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itsdanii · 3 years

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Hello. I loved the rejecting then regretting it scenario with Sakusa and Tsukki. 💞💞 Would you be open to doing one with Inarizaki boys as well? If it's too much, Atsumu would do because I think he is the one most likely to have this happen. Angst to fluff, please. 👉👈 Thank you!

Rejecting you and Regretting it pt. 2

a/n: hey, bub. as much as i wanted to input all inarizaki boys, i only take 1-2 characters per request. the reason for this is for me to avoid being repetitive with the scenes. i hope you understand. that being said, here's your request for the part 2 with atsumu. this was supposed to be short but i kind of got carried away with this, 'm sorry😭

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: cursing, rude behavior (resolved), please do remind me if i missed anything else

ft. atsumu miya

Atsumu Miya

You met Atsumu during your first year

It was exactly the first day when you bumped into him on the hallways and ended up being in the same class

From there on, the both of you formed a good friendship since you have the same tastes in things

Along the way, you managed to fall for him

It wasn't impossible to fall for him after all

He was fun to be with, that it felt as if there were no dull moments when you're with him

But you were afraid of confessing to him because you didn't want to ruin your friendship

However, that all changed when somebody entered the picture

"Another one?" you asked Atsumu as he sat on your usual table at the school's cafeteria.

Looking at the two boxes of chocolates given to him by a fangirl, Atsumu nodded. "Mhmm. They just keep on coming every single day."

You can't help but laugh at what he said. You took one of the boxes and stared at the familiar name written on it. "Yuki again? Isn't she that girl from the other section? The one who kept on giving you stuff every day?" you asked and the smile you had awhile ago completely disappeared from your face.

"The one and only. She's kind of cute though," he said as if it wasn't a big deal.

Maybe for him, it wasn't, but it's a different case for you. You were aware of what you're getting into the moment you realized that you have feelings for Atsumu. At first, his fangirls didn't bother you since you knew that he doesn't really pay attention to them but hearing what Atsumu said just now sparked a feeling of jealousy inside of you.

You knew that what you're feeling right now is selfish. He isn't your boyfriend. Sure, you might've been in love with him for 2 years now but that doesn't mean that you have the right to tell him who he should and shouldn't date, right? After all, you're just his friend.

In fact, you've thought of confessing several times already but fear always overtook you. Afraid of ruining the bond the two of you have, you disregarded the idea and settled on keeping your feelings a secret.

But that might change today. Seeing Atsumu smiling at the chocolates right now made you think that if you don't do something about it now, you might just lose him to another girl.

And you'd rather lose him by getting rejected than lose him to another girl, knowing that you didn't do something.

"You think she's cute?"

Atsumu nodded as he swallowed the whole onigiri Osamu packed for him. "Mhmm. Kind of my type actually."

You tilted your head a bit to the side and rested your cheek on your palm with your elbows placed on top of the table. "So cute girls are your type of girls... What about me, 'Tsumu? Do you think I'm cute?"

Atsumu placed his chopsticks down and stared at you intently, a small grin now forming on his lips. "Of course."

"Cute enough to be your type?"

You knew that you were playing a dangerous game but it was now or never. This time you wouldn't let fear win over you, now that Atsumu mentioned that his attention was caught by someone.

You know Yuki. She's pretty and kind of popular for being a member of the cheerleading team, and the more you thought about it, the more your confidence wavered.

A volleyball player and a cheerleader? What a good match.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Atsumu laughing. "What are ya saying, y/n? Did ya hit yer head or something?"

Crossing your arms over your chest to fake confidence, you frowned at him. "Just answer the question, Miya."

"Of course yer cute but to be my type?" He shook his head and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, angel, but I don't date my friends, let alone someone whom I consider my best friend."

You took a deep breath before finally letting the words out. Your heart was beating erratically as cold sweat started forming on your nape out of nervousness.

"I like you, Atsumu. I tried to hold myself back because I didn't want to ruin our friendship but hearing you talk about how someone finally managed to catch your attention just..." You sighed and looked down at your lap. "I don't think I can hide it anymore knowing that I could lose you anytime."

Silence enveloped the two of you and the anticipation made you more anxious than you already was.

"Was this yer plan all along?"

You turned your gaze towards him upon hearing his words. "What do you mean? I don't know what you're talking about.."

You felt yourself freeze when Atsumu chuckled before answering. "Ya really think I'd fall for the same trick? C'mon y/n. I'm not as stupid as what people say."

"I don't understand-"

"Did'ya think that two years of friendship will let ya accomplish yer goal? I didn't expect ya to be like the other girls. Ya don't like me. Ya just like the idea of dating me for my popularity."

Your lips parted at his words. You wanted to reason out and defend yourself but the way he was looking at you made you almost cower in fear.

He's looking at you the way he looks at his fangirls when they shout during his services.

"Tsumu, that's not true. I really like you." You gave him a pleading look, hoping that he'd see your sincerity but he only glared at you.

"Pathetic. Get out of my sight," he said without any sympathy.

"You could've just rejected me like a normal person would, instead of insulting me." You wiped your tears with the back of your hand as you stood up but before you left, you looked at him straight in the eyes once more. "You know what? Out of the two of us, I'm not the one who's pathetic. It's you. Goodluck on your game tomorrow, Atsumu."

You walked away without turning back, knowing that once you spared him another glance, you'd go back and fight for your feelings.

But what's the point of fighting when you're the only one who's willing to fight?

A week later, you were back to your usual attitude or at least that's what you wanted yourself to believe. At least you're trying, right?

There were times that your eyes would drift towards Atsumu's direction but you kept on reminding yourself that you won't be able to move on unless you really put effort on throwing away your feelings.

When classes ended, you were left alone in your classroom due to cleaning duties. While you were sweeping the part near the door, you managed to catch Atsumu's back and saw that he was talking to someone - it was Yuki.

You stared at his back longingly and let out a sigh because you knew that despite how much you're trying to disregard your feelings, you miss the feeling of being beside him.

You missed his voice, his goofiness, everything.

"Bestfriends, huh?" you whispered to yourself and chuckled at how pathetic you must've been, pining over someone you knew who'd never look at you.

After doing your cleaning duties, you exit the room and decided to walk on the opposite direction since Atsumu and Yuki were still talking on the direction where the exit was supposed to be.

Who would want to hear their crush talking to their girlfriend anyway? Certainly not you.

The only downside of going in the direction you chose was that you weren't familiar with it. Even though you've been studying here for three years now, there were still places you weren't familiar of.

It was now getting dark and you brought out your phone to use the flashlight. You noticed that you're already out of the building, however, the surroundings weren't familiar to you.

You decided to continue walking, realizing that you somehow made it to the back of the school. Trees surrounded you and only a few lights were there to guide your way.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself as you realized that you were getting nowhere.

You decided to go back to the direction you came from but you only seemed to confuse yourself even more. Tears were now starting to well up in your eyes as you nervously tried to find your way back.

You sqealed as something rustled behind you. You immediately ran out of panic and fumbled with your phone, dialing the first number you could click.

"Y/n?"

It's him.

"'Tsumu, I-" you paused for a moment to catch your breath and sat down on the ground, your back resting against a tree. "Help me."

You hear some shouting and some wooshing sounds from the other side of the phone before Atsumu's voice filled your ears. "Where are you, angel?" he asked with concern lacing his voice.

"I don't know. I was just looking for the exit and the next thing I know I'm surrounded with trees and there's this sound of rustling so I ran away," you said without pausing. "Tsumu, I'm scared."

"I'll go find ya, okay? But first calm down. Can ya do that for me? Just breathe and tell me the directions ya can remember."

After explaining all the things you could remember, Atsumu didn't drop the call. Instead, he stayed on the line and comforted you with his words.

It wasn't long then when Atsumu appeared on your line of vision and the first thing you did was wrap your arms around him. You were quickly enveloped in his warmth as he rubbed your back soothingly.

"It's okay now, y/n. I'm here," he whispered as he kept on rubbing your back.

After having a few moments to calm you down, Atsumu instructed you to climb on his back. You wanted to decline but due to how tired your legs felt because of running, you had no choice but to agree.

"I'm sorry for calling you. You must've been busy," you mumbled while resting your head on his shoulder.

"I was actually still around school when ya called. I saw ya cleaning and decided to wait for ya but Yuki wanted to talk to me. The next moment I know, ya were gone but I still waited because I knew that if ya went home already, you would've passed by but ya didn't," Atsumu explained, his grip on your thighs tightening as he spoke.

"I guess Yuki and you are now-"

"I spoke to her to tell her to stop giving me random stuff." Atsumu licked his lips nervously before continuing, "When you left, I realized how much I messed up. I spouted some offensive words to ya and rejected ya without thinking of the consequences."

"Tsumu..."

"Let me finish, okay? This is the only chance I'm getting and there's no way I'm going to waste it. I already wasted a lot of time."

You gave a small nod as the memories of what happened all came flooding back to you. You fisted your hands and bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying.

"I was scared. Ya were the only one who was genuine to me. Everytime I'm around you, I'm just me. I'm just Atsumu. Not the setter of the volleyball team nor the noisy twin of 'Samu," he said, followed be a chuckle.

"I was used to girl fawning over me. I have this mentality that girls are just after my reputation and when ya confessed to me, the first thing that entered my mind was that you were the same as them, that you were only going to use me. In the end, I didn't only lost my bestfriend but also the person I love. I'm sorry for hurting for you, angel."

Atsumu placed you down once you both made it infront of the school gate. He was looking you intensely and you didn't fail to notice that his eyes were glossed with tears as well. "I like you, and if this time, ya realized that yer feelings for me are no longer there, I'd respect it."

He took your hands in his and squeezed them tightly, not enough to hurt you but just enough to let you know that he was afraid to let you go.

"It's always been here. My feelings for you never faded despite how much I wanted them to disappear," you said as you stared at him lovingly, tears of happiness now flowing freely down your cheeks. "I still like you, 'Tsumu."

"Fuck. You don't know how much hearing ya say that makes me happy right now." Atsumu let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around you. His scent filled your nose and you couldn't stop yourself from burrying your face to the side of his neck.

"I love ya."

"And I love you too, 'Tsumu."

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nsheetee · 3 years

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One Foot in the Golden Life

Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course. Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])

a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!

You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.

The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.

The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.

When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.

However, today is different.

You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.

“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.

“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.

Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.

“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”

“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.

“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.

“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.

“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.

“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.

You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.

By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.

Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.

The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.

You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.

Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.

“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.

Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.

“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.

“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.

“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”

“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.

In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.

The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.

“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.

This is going to be a long game.

“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”

“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.

“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.

“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.

Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.

“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.

“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.

“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.

“Really? Which department?”

“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”

“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.

Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.

The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.

Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.

“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.

You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.

“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.

“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.

“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.

“Is that the only thing you can say?”

Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.

A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.

Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.

He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.

Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.

These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.

When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?

“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.

“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.

“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.

“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.

One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.

After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.

“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.

“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.

“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.

“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.

“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.

“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”

Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’

“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.

“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.

“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.

“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.

“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”

“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.

“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.

… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.

“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.

“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.

Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.

“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.

“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.

“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.

“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.

“You can go first.” You suggest.

“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”

“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.

“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.

“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.

“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”

“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.

You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.

“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”

He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.

“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.

“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.

“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”

“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.

“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.

“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.

“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”

Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.

“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”

“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.

“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.

“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”

“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.

“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.

“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.

Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”

The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.

“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.

“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.

He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”

The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is throwing at him with his eyes.

Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.

The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.

Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.

Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.

As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.

He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.

You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.

While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.

“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.

“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.

“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.

“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.

“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”

“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.

“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”

“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.

“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.

‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.

“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.

“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.

“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.

And what he wants right now is you.

He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.

There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.

“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.

“Do it.”

It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.

The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.

He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.

“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.

“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.

“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at you from his position.

“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.

“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.

When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.

“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.

“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.

That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”

You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.

“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.

“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.

“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.

“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.

Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.

“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.

“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.

“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.

“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.

“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.

“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.

“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.

There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.

“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.

“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.

Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.

“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”

“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.

“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”

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kaiqarker · 3 years

Text

the watchtower’s lighthouse | stan vogel

pairing: stan vogel x reader

warnings: smut, swearing

summary: months after a disasterous first date with stan vogel, your paths cross once more when you’re lost within the depths of kern canyon national park during a thunderstorm and stan happens to have inherited a shift patrolling from the watchtower.

a/n: back from the dead because of this man. hope y’all enjoy :)

THE SKY EMULATED STAN VOGEL'S morals, consisting of gray unpredictability. If he was within the familiar walls of his assigned cabin, located along the grounds of Kern Canyon National Park, it would be an indication he wouldn't have to do much patrolling. Campers usually stayed put if there was rainfall, sticking to their own site and not off doing God knows what to the land Stan takes pride in preserving. Cascading a thick husk of superiority and knowledge was his favorite thing about the job, which is why he was disappointed he was stuck maintaining the watchtower for tonight.

The surveillance for the watchtower was run by a tight knit schedule of volunteers and the occasional firefighter that needed a change of scenery for a couple days. Needless to say with all the strange occurrences and sightings, there have been less and less people willing to take on the task. And now the duty was bestowed upon the park ranger— at least for tonight. He swore to himself that at sunrise he would be out of there and back to being the persistent, vexing gum stuck to the bottom of everyone's shoe.

Stan now sat in a wobbly chair, feet propped up on the desk and his trusty binoculars in hand. His surroundings were darkening, quicker than they would at his cabin because of the parade of trees towering over the area. He could mostly only see shadows and the outlines of the forest. His paranoia kept him on the lookout, knowing all too well what kind of perilous entities the park harbored, dark secrets he was trusted in keeping.

It was why his body jolted and he nearly fell out of his seat at a sign of movement. His hands itched to drop the binoculars and reunite with the shotgun propped up in the corner. His burst of anxiety was halted, however, once the lenses revealed a person. A wandering, soaked person clearly becoming victim to the thunderstorm that had been periodically easing and worsening for the past two hours.

Stan stood, walking over to the window with his binoculars hanging from the strap around his neck. He easily pried it open and stuck out his head. The drizzle of rain didn't reach him because of the roof stretching out along the perimeter of the watchtower, but he still felt the dip in the temperature. He estimated that it had dropped at least fifteen degrees since the start of the storm, the disappearance of the sun only escalating the drafty change.

He was about to shout down at what is most certainly a woman who had strayed too far from her campsite but then she twisted around, finally noticing the light emitting from up above. Recognization crumbles both of their attentive expressions. She becomes more than a drenched, carmine tank top, huddled body, and ropes of wet hair. He transforms into the exact opposite of a saving grace when his beige uniform and ironically angelic face are perceived.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Stalking your ex, eh?" Stan called down to her. The pattern of swift and drawned out words, swirled into a provoking and often mocking Australian accent, reached her ears over the light patter of rainfall.

She sighed, dramatically enough for Stan to see the rise and fall of her diaphragm. She considered turning around and braving the unknown of the wilderness again. If it wasn't for her sore feet and her prediction that she would develop some sort of hyperthermia if she stayed out in the cold, then she would've already been on her way.

"We went out on one date. You don't count as an ex," she clarified, craning her neck up at him. His smirk from knowing she was in a miserable condition and that he was the only one that could do anything about it ignited the first sense of heat she had felt in awhile. Her fists clenched against her crossed arms. "And you're the one with the pervy binoculars. On the prowel for half-naked campers, are you?"

He scoffed, winding his head to the side for a moment. "Enough with the bullshit. Are you coming up or not?"

In any other situation, he probably would've dragged their reunion out, teased her for being so helpless and naive. But she was shivering and looked so small curling into herself; it was a sight that played his heartstrings like a mystical harp. Even after a date gone wrong and the resentment that followed, he couldn't bare to see her like this.

She, on the other hand, still clung to some hesitation. Cozying up in a small, confined space with Stan where there were no other people around to ground her into the realms of sanity wasn't a compelling option. The both of them simply didn't get along. The nightmare of their date was very vivid in her mind, too, and she didn't want tonight to be a repeat of that.

Almost like nature could sense her doubts, thunder crackled and reverberated around the forest. Lightning flashed, incandescent and forbiding. The rain intensified, hitting her bare skin with a harsh force. Muddy shoes stumble forward a few steps but still don't gravitate towards the ladder.

"Better move your ass, sweetheart! Unless you'd prefer to get struck by lightning? Not to mention all the dangerous things lurking around that you haven't the slightest idea about."

Undeniable complacency was weaved into his taunt. However, it did get her moving. If she would've bothered to look up or if there wasn't such vast distance between them from their differing heights, she might've seen the concern nestled into glimmering, cobalt eyes.

Suffering through a climb where her wobbly legs and white knuckles were put the use, she eventually made it to top. Stan already had the latch swung open, bent down in the center of the room and waiting for her with an outstretched arm. Reluctantly, she took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her inside the watchtower.

"Crickey, you're freezing," he murmured. There was a softness to his features and the low timber of his voice. He'd even began rubbing over her fingers with his own, attempting to summon some warmth back into him, before he realized what he was doing and backed away.

"That's what happens when you get lost and separated from your friends and then get caught up in a storm," she summed up, monotonous.

"Your friends are idiots," Stan muttered.

She was about to deter the insults back his way until she suddenly felt a subtle weight on her shoulders. The scent combination of spearmint gum and lingering campfire smoke was sensed with a mere sniffle, and soon her hands were reaching up to pull on the sage green trim of his coat.

"You don't even know them," she settled for saying.

"They let you get lost, didn't they?" Stan's eyes found her wide ones, squinting slightly in familiar anger, but she could tell—this time at least—it wasn't directed towards her. "Yeah, bunch of mates, they are."

It was her turn to break the intimacy blossoming between them. She disconnects their stare that was inevitably going to convey all the unspoken feelings that still flourished inside of her to spare a glance over his shoulder. The furnace filled with a burning stack of dry wood lures her away from Stan, and she kneels down in front of it.

His hands go to his belt, elbows bent outward like he was posing as a chicken. He was unsettled by how consumed he was by his emotions. He wanted to give her space but then he finds himself reaching for her. He wanted to remain civil but the distaste in her tone and her infuriating, unreasonable glare casted towards him causes him to delve into his own hostile urges. The confusion of what to do and how to deal with her presence was boardering on insufferable.

But facing her, watching her beneath the firelight, the strain of his internal compass ebbed. He was no longer directionless or purposeless. The orange glare enducing a riveting shine to her hair and her tranquil countenance she upheld gazing into the flames had him feeling certain in just about every single thing that made the universe, the universe.

"You're staring," she whispers, a tremble in her reply she blames on recovering from the weather.

"And you won't even look over at me for a second." His observation coaxes her into peering at him, finding that he enclosed the distance between them by a few steps. A playful smile twitches across his lips. "What? Don't like a man in uniform?"

"I wouldn't be bragging about your outfit, Stan. You're a glorified Boy Scout," she remarks, rising from her position on her knees. Her thumb and pointer finger pinch the small, golden slate pinned to his shirt. "Even have badges and everything,"

"Get your grubby little hands away from my name tag. You're gonna smudge it," he grumbles, smacking her hand away; she lets out a humorless, short-lived laugh at his overreaction.

"Still an uptight asshole, I see."

"Still a mouthy brat, then?"

His retort makes her face harden. "Being honest doesn't make me a mouthy brat."

"Just inconsiderate?"

"You're preaching to me about being inconsiderate? You live off of ridiculing people. On our date, you insulted and humiliated our waiter because he didn't know the exact species of deer mounted to the wall."

"I was just taking a moment to educate him!"

"You called him a fumbling idiot who didn't know the basic fundamentals of biology!"

"Oh, like you were any better! Shoving your tits into the bartender's face to get free drinks!" He throws his hands up, easily overtaken by frustration and unresolved jealously.

"I know how much you make, Stan. You should be thanking me for that," she says slowly, deliberately, bringing up the one thing she knows will push him over the edge. He takes the bait, but she doesn't expect what he throws back at her.

"You're right. Thank you, sweetheart, for acting like such a slut on our first date that all anyone had to do for dessert was crouch down between your open legs."

Her mouth dropped at his statement. His exasperation dissolves to shock at processing his own harsh comment. He isn't able to focus on it for long, though, because she properly acts by allowing her palm to connect to his cheek.

Head snapped to the side, he can begin to taste a droplet of blood on his tongue, emitting from where his incisor pinched his bottom lip. He licks over the minor wound thoughtfully, heaving out a breath of false amusement. When he looks at her again, his face is dark and full of cruel intentions of revenge.

Stan surges forward and doesn't stop until her body crashes against the wall like she was just a bag of dismantled bones. His coat falls from her shoulders and slumps against the hardwood floor during the journey. His towering height and weight pin her in place, leaving her at the mercy of splayed hands and the relentless motions of his mouth against hers.

The awakening, leftover flavor of gum he must've chewed eariler just sinks in when he bites down hard on her lip. A whimper, the first sound she makes besides the ejection of a surprised gasp, is forced out her from the harsh gesture. A metallic taste replaces the one prior, one eager swipe of his tongue rolling past her parted lips.

The instinct to shoot her hands up and enmesh them in the soft, chestnut strands of his cropped hair is interrupted by an action of his own. He eases the intensity of the kiss, allowing her to breathe through languid, desperate puckers she reciprocates, but his fingers hook around both her bra and tank top straps, yanking them down her arms. She lifts herself out of them only to have him grasp the collar of her shirt and pull it down, her bra in tow, until they were just bundled material around her midriff.

Calloused hands fondled her breasts while his mouth diverts to her neck, sucking and nipping until her skin resembled the colorful patches of a quilt. She throws her head back against the wall, leaning into his touch and letting out the most delicate moans that had all of his blood gushing to the apex of his legs; she felt proof of it when he rutted himself against her.

Her forearms are squeezed between their bodies so she can reach the buttons of his shirt, manicured fingers working hastily and with not as much care she knew Stan would've liked, but he seemed to be too preoccupied by kissing her all over. Soon her hands were tugging up the white t-shirt he always wore underneath his uniform, and he helped her out by shifting it over his head and discarding it to the growing pile of clothes.

His chest was warm and inviting compared to hers. Her skin felt like cool marble underneath his fingertips, keeping her nipples pebbled and sweat from the heated exchange at bay. It was quite a contrast as their bodies continued to press together, her hands sliding along the expanse of his taut back while he concentrated on undoing her shorts.

"All mine," he mumbled against her jaw; it was certainly hard to disagree with him and all his handsy clutches and kisses that left her craving more.

"All yours," she confirmed softly.

The words barely left her mouth before she felt the heart-jolting sensation that was his hand sliding past her unzipped shorts and underwear. His fingers ran up and down down her folds, taking his time, ever the explorer. He often grazed her clit, encouraging her hips to arch into him for more direct contact, but he was careful to only give her a slight, fleeting amount.

"Stan." His name parted from her in a low whine—somewhat shamefully because she never thought she'd be in this circumstance, begging a hardass park ranger with a major superiority complex for a release.

"So wet for me. Awful naughty of you to get this soaked from one arguement with me, don't you think?"

She nuzzled her face into the side of his, nose brushing along his chiseled cheekbone. "Please."

"Aw, look at you. So sweet. You'd never think that you live to slander me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am nothing but nice to you."

"Oh?" He inserts his middle finger into her, curling it precisely, while the heel of his hand grinds against her clit with every deliberate pump.

"Yes," she gasps.

Shallow pants gradually rack through her torso, and the ache of his throbbing cock becomes unbearable at the sight of her defenseless against his advances. He adds another finger, the grip and warmth of her slick walls causing him to shudder in anticipation.

"Such a little liar," he groans out after a particularly provocative contraction around his digits, one that rids him of whatever patience he had left.

He abruptly removes his hand from her shorts, something that makes her closed eyes flicker open. Her mouth immediately morphs into a pout and she squeezes his biceps in protest.

She isn't left waiting for long, hands on her hips guiding her away from the wall until the underside of her knees hit the edge of a cot. His mouth parts from hers once more, a sweet dragging of overlapped lips exchanged during the slow steps, so he can pull back the blanket. She looks over her shoulder at the neatly presented cot, which Stan must've brought with him along with his own fitted bedspread. She was now appreciative that he always came prepared.

Without having to be told, she crawled underneath the covers after ridding herself of the remainder of her clothing. Stan did the same once she was settled, becoming the final layer that draped over her body. The blanket and the crisp white of a top sheet stopped at the dimples of his back, and she was trapped in warmth, intensified by the glorious weight of his bare body on hers. Arms on either side of her head latch the cage as he leans down for another kiss.

"Don't mistake me keeping you warm as forgiveness. I'm still very mad at you. You drive me crazy," he sighs against her jaw, his eyelashes fluttering against the apple of her cheek.

"Don't mistake me moaning for you as an apology. You don't deserve one." Her strokes at the nape of his neck never faltered. Her thighs spread, legs winding around his, desperate for him to do something with his cock that laid twitching and swollen on her navel. "Well, you might if you fuck me hard enough."

"Shut up already."

Long fingers brick over her parted mouth in time with the repositioning of his hips, muffling the cries of consumption that came from him sinking inside of her. Eyes roll to the back of her head, almost completely sated by just the feeling of being filled. The head of his shaft glided against her most sensitive spot like a brush of shoulders, and her thighs tightening around his waist was her turning around, ready to chase shattering gratification.

Although slow, his thrusts into her were brutal. They held onto to each other like you would to ropes of a ruinous bridge connecting two cliffs, like they would be faced with a plummeting death if they were to let go. And yet, they were fighting along the wobbly planks, the semicircles of hip bones clashing together like medieval swords. It was all extremes, but neither of them would have it any other way.

He was making the most beautiful sounds above her. Through his ruthless motions, were breathy moans and whines of her name, the occasional praise intertwined into his enticing responses. Eventually, he allowed his hand to stop sealing her lips, sliding it down to clutch the flesh of her thigh with the promise of bruises. Her soft pleas and moans of euphoria joined his to create a symphony worthy of a ballet orchestra.

Strings of saliva conntected rouge lips to the marked skin of his neck, where she continued to suckle and playfully nip. The roll of their bodies picked up speed, both becoming impatient by the delicious ache they kept provoking, daring one another to spasm out of control. They craved for their muscles to become a tightrope and for the most intimate parts of them to pulsate from the finality of release.

"You've never looked prettier than you do right now. Your cunt squeezing me so tight, your mouth only able to form breathless whispers... completely wrecked. I love it."

"Please," she cannot help but beg, flickering eyes undecided on whether to shut her continue their hazy, half-lidded stare into his own.

"You want to come?" The inward pull of his eyebrows and the slight curl of his parted mouth way as well have been a mocking pout. "I know you do. I shouldn't even let you, though. You've been intolerable. I should just come all over your writhing body and leave you here without any satisfaction. Even if you were to finish yourself off, it wouldn't be enough. It would only feel subpar, and you know that, don't you?" His breath fans her face like the furnace had moments ago, and she can only whimper in reply. "Only I can sate you, sweetheart."

Her hands, whose nails had already inflicted damage to the freckled canvas of his back, sweep over his shoulders to cup his jaw. Her thumb strokes his jawline while the other ventures down the column of his throat, feeling the bob of his adam's apple with every constristing swallow he took. She could tell he was close, too, and decided to nod her head gently in agreement to his words, to wave her white flag.

Her surrender is reassured by fingertips dragging down her torso to her enlarged clit, granting bone-vanishing swipes that causes stuttered gasps and limbs going slack. It only takes a few seconds of coaxing rubbing for her release to erupt, the molten lava bursting from the pit of her stomach to electrify just about every nerve in her body. Her encompassing walls clutch around him so tightly that it summons a delirious climax from him.

His strenuous pace wavers, his hold on the cot becoming prudent, as if it was a buoy keeping him afloat through the thrashing waves of pleasure. White, sticky ribbons coat the inside of her thighs, and it's only when his heartbeat ebbs from his eardrums that he cracks his eyes open and collaspes into the small remaining space between her and the wall.

Stan speaks after catching his breath, remaining pants interwoven into his declaration. "This should've happened sooner."

"It would've if you weren't such a prick," she noted, sparing him a quick glance.

"Okay, maybe... I wasn't on my best behavior. But I was nervous. I liked you a lot. I wanted to impress you."

"And you thought bragging about how you're a know-it-all when it comes to plants and wildlife and the park's terrain was going to the trick?"She questioned, snorting at his logic. His nose twitch, an indicator of embarrassment, and she grabs his arm and tucks herself into his side. "You're such a dork."

He smiled at the gesture before she continued, "I'm sorry that I flirted with the bartender. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were second best or anything. Honest to God, I just wanted free stuff."

"Well, the cream puffs you got out of it were actually delicious," Stan admitted, tilting his head in her direction.

She smiled back at him. "I know, right?"

Stan may not be a prime example of a good guy but he had always took glory in being good at his job. That's what kept him going, that's what fueled him all these years. Now, he was considering what life entailed outside of that. Outside of the stressful responsibilities and government conspiracies and the never-ending studious tendencies. She came to him for refuge tonight, but, the truth is, he had been relying on her for a long time. To fascinate him, to stand up to him, to guide him back to where he belonged.

He felt like he was finally pursuing something that was more important than his duties here, than anything else he's ever experienced. He was an off-bound ship, cruising blind into the dead of the night, and she was a lighthouse, promising purpose and salvation from every bad thing that ever tried to sink him.

// idk who to tag but i think @sojournmichael @fckinsupreme & @instinctsxbaby might be interested (you’re all so talented)!

#ahs #cody fern #american horror story #american horror stories #stan vogel #stan vogel smut #cody fern smut #xavier plympton smut #ahs stories #stan vogel x reader

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Every day, it feels like I've lost them again

Synopsis: Sam shouts at Zemo for the things he has done. Though Zemo doesn’t show it the words hurt him deeply. Later on the reader finds Zemo and talks to him about his past.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Bit of angst, Sad Zemo, mentions to his family’s death and his attempted suicide

Author note: I had plans for another Zemo one shot but then I watched a sad Zemo edit which made me cry and here we are

Cross posted on my Ao3 account under the same name

MASTER LIST

The streets seemed silent as you sadly walked home. The only sound was your footsteps dragging along the floor. The silence between all of you was piercing. Today had been an enormous failure, and you all were feeling it weighing down on you. Pushing down your hopes for things to improve. Zemo had somehow found out where the flag smashers would be, from a trusted source, he said, so you all went charging off to talk to them. It was a trap. Zemo didn’t know it was a trap either, though Sam still believed otherwise. You all had barely got out of there safely. It had been close, too close for your liking.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Zemo says, hating the stone cold silence coming from everyone.

“But there’s not,” Sam spits back angrily, “That was the one proper chance we could've had to talk to Kali, and we failed”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic,” Zemo argues back, rolling his eyes.

“Pessimistic. Are you for serious, pessimistic,” Sam says shaking his head at Zemo, “You hear this guy I’m the pessimistic one”

“Leave it Sam” Bucky mutters trying to push him along, but Sam refuses.

Sam steps towards Zemo, standing just a few centimeters away from his face, his eyes glaring daggers at him. Zemo stops walking, clenching his jaw and tilting his head to stare back at Sam, not breaking eye contact.

Both you and Bucky glance at each other, not really sure if you should stop this or let it happen.

“You could have led us to our deaths today, Zemo, which I am sure was your intention. You make it clear that you wouldn’t hesitate to see any of us off to our funerals. All because you got butt hurt about the avengers preventing Ultron from destroying the earth at the cost of your country.”

The breath leaves your mouth as the words slip out of Sam’s mouth. Your lips, slightly ajar, turn to look at Sam. He’s breathing heavily, glaring at Zemo. Zemo’s lips curled down into an angry frown and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see his fists curl up, something Bucky must have noticed as well, and he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to pull him away from Zemo.

“Sam this isn’t the time”

Sam finally gives in and pulls back, but Zemo steps forward, grabbing onto his jacket. Bucky reaches for his gun, but Zemo waves his hand at him, motioning him not to.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Sam.” is all he says, letting go of Sam’s jacket roughly and storming off.

It would be hours later till you saw him again. During that time your mind was often thinking back to Zemo. When you really thought about it, you realised you knew nothing about him. Heck, until recently you didn’t know he was a Baron. All you had been told was that he was a Sokovian who wanted to split the avengers up because of what they did to his country. Being a Baron, you supposed that made it more personal for him. Still, it felt like something was missing. Something didn’t add up.

You laid in one of the many guest rooms tossing and turning while all these thoughts flooded your mind. Eventually you gave up on the idea of ever getting sleep tonight and got up. If you weren’t sleeping, you might as well get some midnight snacks. Heading into the main room, you notice the door leading to the back was open, letting a chilly breeze float in.

Heading over to check it out, your eyes lie upon Zemo sitting on top of a fallen over tree trunk in the back patio, looking up at the night sky. His coat was wrapped around him to keep him warm, and his face was expressionless as he looked up to the night sky that was scattered with the stars. He hadn’t noticed you staring at him, his mind was far from where his body was.

After a few moments of just staring at him, you broke the silence, “Zemo?”

His head instantly snapped to you, surprised to have been caught unaware.

“Oh, hello y/n, can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, taking his question as an invitation to go over and sit next to him, “No, to many thoughts in my mind to go to sleep”

“Ah, a common problem for an insomniac”

“I assume you have similar reasons, since you are out hear”

He looks away from you, smiling weakly at the floor, “Yes something like that, sleep comes rarely to me”

Your eyes flutter down to the ground, not really sure what to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” you whisper

You both sit there in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t an awkward silence like what you were used to. No. It was a comfortable silence. You were both thankful just to have someone beside you at that moment. You shudder slightly as the wind picks up, making the hairs on your arm stand up. Zemo notices and slowly shrugs off his coat, placing it around you. You smile politely up at him in thanks.

“May I ask what your thoughts were?” Zemo asks gently, glancing back over to you

“You probably think it was about our failure, right?” you say and Zemo nods his head slightly

“They weren’t, actually. I didn’t suspect us to accomplish anything. It seemed to good to be true. No, I was thinking about what happened after. Between you and Sam”

Zemo’s face instantly shifted, his mouth pulling into a frown and his eyebrows furrowing, “Ah” is all he says

“What Sam said was way out of line. I can’t understand the pain you must feel about losing Sokovia”

Zemo hums to let you know he heard but doesn’t say anymore, his gaze just returns to the sky.

You didn’t want to push him too far. Over this time you had gotten to know him and almost considered him a friend, but you couldn’t help but be curious. You wanted to know more about him.

“But there’s more isn’t there. Something we don’t know,” you say gently

You can see him swallow and his fingers dig into his palms as he tenses at your question.

After a moment he finally responds, “Yes, you’re right. I... I had a family who died that day. My father, wife and child. I told them to go out of the city to the countryside. That was where my father lived, you see. I had to stay behind as I was a part of this Sokovian kill squad. Even as royalty, I still had duties. I had faith in the avengers. They would sort everything out. But they didn’t. When the battle was one they just returned home, leaving us with the hard task of finding all the dead. I assumed my family would be safe, yet it took me two days after to find their bodies.”

Your body gets overwhelmed with coldness as you hear his story. The memories of the battle flooded your mind and you could feel a bitterness creep into your mouth. You could have stayed behind to help. Why didn’t you? Your eyes water slightly as you sympathise with him and feel the guilt lie on your soul.

“Oh god Zemo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked,” you are quick to respond

“No...it’s okay. If I didn’t want to tell you, I wouldn’t have said anything”

You look up to the night sky and reflect over his words. All the pain that Zemo must feel, holding onto, and you did not know. None of you did. You were sure if Sam knew he wouldn’t have said the things he did. You knew what Zemo did was wrong, but damn you couldn’t help but empathise with him.

“If you want…” you start, hoping what you were choosing to ask wouldn’t be going too far, “would you like to tell me about them?”

Zemo finally looks away from the sky, his eyes looking to the ground. He swallows again, slightly sniffing before speaking.

“My Son, Carl, he was four when he... when he died. He always did this cute thing where if he didn’t like the food on his plate he would pretend he was gifting the food to you to show his love for you”

You chuckle slightly thinking about it, “That does sounds cute”

“He was the most precious thing in existence. He always wanted a sibling like his friends had. He loved the idea of being an older brother. Every morning when the mail arrived, he asked if he had a brother or sister delivered to him. Me and my wife… we were planning on having more kids. We knew he would've made the best big brother. We hoped for a girl, you know, to even things out”

“What was she like?”

“She was so beautiful. Like the goddess Venus. Many men tried to win her affection, but she settled for me. I had never felt like a luckier man. She was so kind, so generous, so loving. My perfect angel”

The tears that had been threatening to fall from Zemo’s eyes broke the dam and fell down his cheeks.

“If I could, I would give up everything I have, everything I own just to hold them in my arms again”

A sob breaks out of him and he holds his hand up to his mouth as his eyes crinkle up as more tears fall. He tries to wipe them away, but he can’t stop crying. You put your arm around him and pull him into a hug which he gladly accepts. He wraps his arms around you and buries his head into your shoulder as he sobs.

“I miss them so much”

You say nothing, just rub your hand on his back reassuringly. He takes a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I tried to end my life after I completed my revenge. So I didn’t have to live another day without them. But I failed. I spent the next seven years without them. And everyday it feels like I’ve lost them again,”

“What do you plan to do… after we have finished here?”

You can feel Zemo’s body tenses in your arms as you ask that question, “I think you know, y/n”

You pull back from him to look into his blood-shot eyes. “Zemo, I know this is so very hard for you, but please don’t. I know with your wit and cunning you can think of a way to escape all of this safely. I will not pretend to know your wife, but if she is anything like what you have told me about, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to either. She would want you to find some happiness in life,”

Zemo finally moves away from you, standing up off the tree log and taking one last look at the sky before then looking back at you. He’d stopped crying by now but the tear stained cheek and dark under eyes were evidence of what had just occurred. The side of his lip tried to twitch up into a slight smile but it faltered,

“Thank you, y/n”

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @jayxkelsi @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik

#zemo #baron zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #marvel #daniel brühl #mcu #zemo x you #i love zemo #helmut zemo #sugar daddy zemo #yes this is about zemo

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cherry-glade · 3 years

Text

sleepy sunsets and candid confessions

pairing: tim drake x reader

summary: the two of you are finally getting to spend some time together after being apart for so long, and tim decides to bring something up to you that he’s been keeping to himself for some time.

warnings: mostly fluff with just the slightest bit of angst bc tim is a sad boy for a little while :/

w/c: 1889 words

You’re on the verge of falling asleep with your back pressed uncomfortably against the rough bark of a tree, sunlight warm on your face and shining bright behind your eyelids when you hear Tim, remnants of precious sleep evidently still clinging on for dear life to his voice, soft and raspy, slurring over the syllables of your name.

“Hey.” You look down to see Tim watching you with a tired little smile on his face, head resting in your lap. You’re glad to see his smile—Tim has yet to say anything about it, but you know that he’s been a little upset recently.

“I thought you were asleep, Timmy.”

“I was,” he confirms, closing his eyes again. “But I woke up again so that I could look at you.” He pauses to yawn, jaw cracking as his eyes squeeze tight before relaxing again. “Missed your face while I was sleeping.”

Your cheeks go warm at that and you gently flick his ear. Tim’s eyes flutter open and find yours as his smile widens, playful with a tiny hint of smugness spilling out with the flash of his teeth. It’s a good look on him, especially with that cheeky glint in his eyes, but then again, so is pretty much everything.

“Sap,” you mutter, and he shakes his head at you, the movement looking a little odd being viewed upside down.

“You love it,” he retorts through a second yawn and closes his eyes again, settling down like he’s just won an argument against you, except he actually has and you can’t say that he’s wrong, not really.

“We’re together almost all the time, Tim,” you murmur, pushing a few strands of dark hair out of his eyes. “Aren’t you at least a little tired of seeing my face all the time?”

“Never tired of seeing you, Y/N,” he confesses casually. “You’re my favourite person and the best part of my day.”

“Cool it with the compliments, Romeo,” you chuckle, twisting his hair and curling it around your fingers.

“It’s not just a compliment, it’s the truth,” Tim huffs, then pauses. “Well, I guess it is a compliment, but I’m not just trying to fill your head up with hot air. You make me happy. Happy, happy, happy...” he repeats, humming to himself.

You blink down at him, amused. “I think you need some more sleep,” you say, poking his forehead lightly, but he still frowns.

“No, I wanna stay up with you,” Tim insists, his frown deepening. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. Or at least spent any time with you alone, just the two of us. I miss you all the time,” he sighs, and your heart cracks down the very middle.

“You saw me just yesterday, Tim,” you say softly, a little worried. He hasn’t mentioned this before, and while you agree with him, you can’t help but feel infinitely grateful for the little time you actually have been able to spend together. You’ve known from the start that you can’t always be his first priority, and that quite often, he has bigger things to care about than you.

“For like, five minutes,” Tim says, scowling now as he jerkily pulls himself out of your lap and still manages to gracefully get to his feet, jaw tense as he stares down at you. “We literally just said hi to each other and made small talk about the weather because we didn’t have time to talk about anything other than that.”

His shoulders slump, and you can vaguely see the sun just starting to set behind him, rays shining through Tim’s hair to make him look like an angel with a halo of bright light around his head. An angel who insists on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I know that’s my fault though,” he confesses guiltily, avoiding your eyes now. “Me being a vigilante doesn’t really make it easy for us to see each other, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I’m being a bad boyfriend. You deserve better from me.”

You stare at him for a moment, wide-eyed and speechless, not able to think of what to even say. In the end, you just say his name, not even trying to hide the way his name falls effortlessly from your lips, soft and loving.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours and then dart away, unable to hold your gaze. “Tim,” you repeat, your voice barely more than a whisper as you pat the grass next to you. “Come here,” you offer. “Sit with me.”

Tim hesitates and then folds himself back down next to you with crossed legs, close enough that your knees brush against each other. Looking up as you take his hand out of his lap to link your pinkies together, you notice that the sun has gone lower in the sky, leaving behind soft streaks of vibrant colour, light pinks and blues, fiery reds and oranges.

“You know,” you start, voice breaking the silence you’d both fallen into. “Whenever I get to watch the sun setting, I’m reminded of you.” Tim turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow, patiently waiting for an explanation, and you just smile at him.

“Remember our first date?” You ask, and Tim grimaces, an embarrassed flush crawling up his neck.

“The one that I was really late for so we had to completely replan it? Yeah, I remember that.” You can tell by the snark in his voice that he’s still clearly kicking himself for it, but that’s not what you want at all.

“Tim, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” you reprimand, and he gives you an apologetic smile which doesn’t reach his eyes. You sigh and take both of his hands into yours, lifting them to your mouth to press gentle kisses to his scarred knuckles and then leaving them to rest underneath your chin.

“You were late to our date in the morning, but we both wanted to finally go on a date so badly that we just went out in the evening and sat together in the park, eating ice-cream. Remember?” Tim nods, his smile becoming a little more real at the reminder of what was basically the beginning of your relationship.

“I... dropped my ice-cream because I was tired enough to be on the verge of falling asleep, and you shared yours with me. And we watched the sun set together. That was nice,” he says softly, untangling his fingers from yours so that he can curl his hand over your lower thigh instead, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knee.

“It was,” you agree. “It was really nice because that evening, I looked at you, and the sun was hitting you just right.” Tim grins bashfully, eyes crinkling. “It made your eyes all twinkly and somehow even bluer, and you looked back at me with this really dopey smile, and I thought, all the way back then, that I could seriously fall in love with you. And I did.”

Tim gives you the same dopey smile he’d given you back then, and it still makes your heart flutter. “You did. And so did I,” he says, touching his fingers to your cheek, lingering on the curve of your jaw.

“Exactly,” you tell him. “So now, whenever I see a sunset, I think of that. Of you. And you know, the sun sets every day, so I think of you a lot,” you say nonchalantly, shrugging.

“Even when we don’t see each other for a while, you’re still in here,” you continue to explain, resting one hand on top of his chest, right above the steady beat of his heart. “And up here,” you say, tapping his temple with your other hand. “And I’m sure the same goes for you.”

The way that his face softens tells you all you need to know. You don’t hold your arms out for a hug, but you keep your body language open and inviting, waiting for Tim to move first. And sure enough, he shuffles over and curls into you, resting his chin on top of your head as you lift your arms to pull him in close enough that every inch of your bodies are touching.

“You’re right,” Tim speaks up after a few minutes of comfortable silence, voice slightly muffled, but you can feel his lips moving against your skin, warm and curving into a smile. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and not talking to you about this sooner.”

“You aren’t an idiot, Timmy,” you say, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye and put emphasis on your words. The sun shines on, warm and bright where it touches you. “You just needed a reminder not to be so hard on yourself, that’s all. We all do sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Tim says softly, gaze fixed upon yours, something soft and undoubtedly gooey in his blue eyes. “You know me so well.”

“Of course I do. I’m in love with you,” you reply simply, tilting your head.

“Thank you,” he replies, and you give him a look, confused. “For being you. And for loving me,” he clarifies. “I know that being with me isn’t exactly easy.”

“That’s where you’re absolutely, totally wrong,” you respond, touching his nose with your finger and smiling when it wrinkles and his eyes cross as he tries to look at it. “You don’t need to thank me for something I don’t even have to try to do.”

Tim watches you with widening eyes, lips parted. He might be shocked by what you’ve said but you’ve known this to be true for so long, as true as the sky is blue, that it’s only fair he does too.

“Loving you is—well, it’s practically as easy as breathing. And no, I’m not exaggerating when I say that, so don’t even think about it,” you rush to cut him off as he opens his mouth, and his cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink.

Tim leans forward to kiss your forehead and then huffs out a laugh against your skin, his breath cool and smelling vaguely of coffee and mint-flavoured chewing gum, the staples of his diet. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

Liar. Tim never fails to point out hyperboles in people’s speech, with that smug little shine to his eyes.

“Loving me is as easy as breathing though, huh?” He sounds amused and pleased at the same time, a terrible combination for sure. “Who’s the real sap in this relationship, huh?”

“Still you,” you fire back, and Tim chuckles, fond and exasperated. You’re still smiling at him and your legs have gone numb from sitting down for so long, but nothing can make you look away from the playful grin on Tim’s face, bright and infectious.

“If you say so,” Tim sighs, sitting back to watch the sun finish setting with you as the sky begins to darken and the first stars are about to appear, but you both know that you’re just as hopelessly gone for this boy as he is for you, and time spent apart won’t change that, because it really is true, at least in your case, that absence only makes the heart grow fonder.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #dc #sfw #my fic

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shyanshippingsociety · 2 years

Text

Shyan Shipping Society - New Year's Exchange 2022

hello hello hello!

this new year's, we had a special gift exchange in our server! it's our second new year's exchange and we had some amazing artists & authors participate! we are so excited to bring you their works!

check out the challenge collection here!

share your address by idkspookystuff | E, 4K, complete

It’s never fun when you wake up to your head pounding out of your skull after a night you can’t remember. It’s even worse when you wake up to someone chanting “shit, shit, shit!”

when shane and ryan get a little too drunk on a weird, wonderful world shoot, they find out they got married and it's all over the internet. a few weeks later, ryan learns he's pregnant. the plan? pretend to be a married couple. easy enough to do with feelings, right?

Gift (SSS gift exchange!) by LastBroadcast | E, 2K, complete

Christmas time is a time for giving! So what if Ryan gave Shane... himself?

Snowed In (Minus the Snow) by FireflyAndTheStoryJar | T, 2K, complete

Ryan’s mother would often ask why Shane would leave early on Christmas Eve, but with some half-truths, she was usually polite enough not to push for more. This Christmas, though, she was determined to keep Shane there until Christmas Day. Ryan realized that as soon as Shane couldn’t find his coat and shoes by the door hook and shoe shelf.

i love you in every context imaginable by icantturnthisthingoff | T, 4K, complete

The one where a Christmas trip to Schaumburg finally unearths a drunken "mistake" that happened two years prior.

love put a gun in my hand by bodhirookes | E, 20K, complete

“Evening,” Shane says, though it’s leaning closer to midnight than to dinnertime. “Heard from my deputy that somethin’ was afoot down here.”

TJ carefully tips his head, gesturing at the table of men. “They rolled in about an hour ago. It took me until now to recognize them—Bergara and his boys.”

Shane looks at the table again, and this time, one of the men is looking back. Even across the room, his eyes are fierce and devastating to gaze upon, like taking a pair of bullets to the gut. Messy black hair escapes the brim of his hat, brushing the top of a long, vivid scar that runs from forehead to cheek over his right eye, and the expression on his handsome face is as arrogant as it is enticing, like he’s inviting anyone who seeks him out to start a fistfight and end it with a good, hard fuck. Shane would know that face anywhere, and has seen it on more WANTED posters than he could ever hope to count.

Or, Shane is the sheriff of a town that infamous bounty hunter-disguised-criminal Ryan Bergara has set his sights on, and will do whatever it takes to keep Bergara from burning it to the ground

Sacrificial Lamb by tanabubbles | M, 6K, complete

When Ryan half-heartedly did a summoning ritual, the last thing he expected was to gain a hot demon butler out of it.

Hold On To Me by PlatinumPussycat208 | T, 2K, complete

His heart was racing and he could feel the fear coursing through his body. His throat choked up and there were tears welling in his eyes. Ryan wanted to leave, to run back up those stairs and out of the mansion and never look back. But Ryan was frozen. - Ryan encounters something supernatural in the basement of an old mansion. Shane is there to help him through his fear.

Howl (Snowstorm Song) by ghoulfriends (sungoldened) | E, 4K, in progress

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."

When a snowstorm strands him in Schaumburg, Illinois, Ryan stays with a stranger.

The Slow Realization by red_crate | G, 2K, complete

Five times Shane has feelings and one time he voices them.

Stars in Your Soul by Blue__Jay | M, 7K, in progress

Ryan is an unconventional kind of Angel... Meaning he owns a second-hand shop in downtown LA and wants no one to bother him. As fate would have it, though, a rogue demon shows up with an offer Ryan can't refuse. It shouldn't surprise him that fraternizing with a demon brings all sorts of trouble to his door, after all, demons are known for causing problems. So why does Ryan find himself agreeing to help with a smirk on his face?

The Coldest Winter by BittyBergara (Pennstram) | E, 2K, complete

“Because I’m fucking tired, Ryan.” He was tired of walking around in the snow. Tired of the cold. Tired of pretending. It was grating and draining. Pretending to be happy and in love with the one person you couldn’t stand to be around.

a kiss at midnight by verilyvexed | G, art

Fanart: At a party, more than half-drunk on good champagne, warm and soft around the edges. The clock strikes midnight and they turn to each other. Hesitantly, the inevitable becomes the actual.

I Want Ours To Be An Endless Song by sunlight_sonata | T, 11K, complete

“I promise.” Shane frowns for a moment. Maybe he sees the look on Ryan’s face, because something in his own expression clears. “In fact, let’s make an oath. I swear to never abandon you, Bergara. You’ve got me hooked, goddamn. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

For one, fleeting moment, Ryan wants to kiss Shane right there in the front yard of this random suburban home. He wants it so much that it terrifies him, and the thought of wanting something so unattainable is such a familiar feeling it’s like it’s never left him. Like his mind is a haunted house where the spirits of “what if” and “maybe” roam the halls and wake him up at night.

“I swear too, big guy,” he manages. “I… yeah. I’m gonna stick around for a while.”

Or, When Ryan puts an ad in the newspaper for a room to rent, he doesn't mention the ghosts. What he ends up with is more than he could ever have bargained for.

But... what if we held hands? by madnerding | G, art

Demon Shane and Mothman Ryan holding hands. Done with alcohol markers.

Bergara Family Art by noviosfantasmas | G, art

My recipient asked for kidfic, and I’m always game for an opportunity to draw cute babies

helping hands by Artemis | E, 1K, complete

At this point, Ryan felt his attempts were futile. He had already come three times and he was working on a fourth chasing a feeling that he had seen many times, but had never done himself. Squirting was something he always wanted to try, but had never been able to achieve so he figured since Shane was working late at the office, it was the perfect time to try.

Or so he thought.

thank you so much to everyone who participated in this event! we can't wait until the next one!

#shyan shipping society new years exchange 2022 #mod ve #shyan #skeptic believer #watcher after dark #buzzfeed after dark #buzzfeed unclean #shyan shipping society

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urne-buriall · 2 years

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Apeiron/Uncreation locales

She called this place Uncreation because it was where angels went when all the cosmic realms had been destroyed. Cas suspected it before, but he knew for certain now. She had entirely missed the point. This place was a world of trial runs and test drives. It was a record of the past as much as a model of the future. It was a world of endless creation, running parallel to the still, small centre of humanity, Earth.

will this ruin the magic? let's hope not. there were a lot of things I drew from, some more specific than others. the deserts and galaxies I leave to your imagination, as to the rest...

In the sand he passed a giant foot carved of stone, as tall at the top as he was, and reaching higher only to leave off just above the ankle with a jagged break. Not far from it, half-sunk in the sand, a broken head. One empty eye watched him. He approached and placed his hand upon the bridge of the nose, out of which time had taken a deep cut.

“Ozymandias, King of Kings,” he said. The stone did not move, but he felt from within it a respondent hum of recognition.

this one's pretty direct, a reference to Percy Shelley's famous poem "Ozymandias" and the fallen colossal statues of Rameses II in Egypt. given that this post only gets longer from here, the rest are going under a cut.

As they spoke, he led Cas to an opening in the ruins of a jungle city. Elaborately carved stone crawling with ivy and the reaching roots of spung trees that rose high above their heads. [...] They passed stone-relief devatas, ensconced in their ornamental arches, nearing some central temple.

Ta Prohm, Cambodia. I think I must have been reading an article about jungle cities and there was something about this temple, specifically, that opened up a door to thinking about this otherworld of Creation. it immediately became a palimpsest of past and future. as if it were created in its current state in Apeiron, but to be in its current state it has to have been a living place where thousands of feet pressed the stone in years of use and traffic. it cannot be separated from its past or its purpose. and this inherent contradiction made sense of Apeiron to me.

To one side of them stretched the red dirt of the badlands, starkly cut against a dark and starry sky, while on their other side an immense buddha towered, cut from the surrounding rock and draped in crawling green vines, gazing down with benign indifference. In contrast, Cas gripped Dean’s lapels fiercely, knuckles white, eyes searching Dean for some anticipated sign of injury.

look at these guys! so cool. obviously I got a little obsessed with scale in Apeiron and everything is just massive. here we've got the Giant Buddha of Leshan (China) and the Great Buddha of Nihon-ji (Japan), though honestly they are BOTH giant AND great.

They stood at the side of a wine-dark body of water, with ancient paving stones beneath their feet and Italianate pillars at their back. Briny water lapped against the straight stone edge of the seawall. In the sky above them, a moon perpetually eclipsed a sun, with the light of the glowing corona reflected on the water’s rippling surface.

a little less specific, we've got a sense of the Italian coast at any time during/after the Roman Empire. the image of the eclipse comes from that book Cosmigraphics, which I heartily recommend. historical depictions of the order of our universe are just so neat!

The dark-brick building, less changeable than anything else in the indefinite world of Apeiron, read ‘Public Library’ on the outside. The glyphic gold outline of an eye spanned across the heavy wooden doors; an uncanny watcher, an inscrutable talisman.

pretty much.

but okay in seriousness apparently I have to make a second part to this so I can share all the cool celestial mechanics stuff I have.

#our lights in ashes #writing inspiration #locales #apeiron

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animationnut · 3 years

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Of Broken Spirits and Renewed Hope

Spoilers for True Colors.

Rating: K+ Summary: Three human girls arrived in Amphibia. Only one made it back home. Note: If Google has any degree of accuracy, นางฟ้า is Thai for angel.

“Home.”

Anne felt her vocal cords vibrate in her throat, felt her tongue curve around the syllable of the word, felt her lips as they moved to accommodate her vocal cords and her tongue. But she was speaking from instinct, not intent, as her brain swam in a haze of mixed colours—green, pink and blue, and the orange glow of a blazing sword—

Anne could feel herself wavering on the edge, practically see the black abyss threatening to swallow her whole, but three harsh coughs interrupted her dark spiral.

“What’s that smell?” rasped Polly, covering her nose as she wheezed. Her gags racked her small form and Hop Pop quickly whipped a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to cover Polly’s face.

The buzzing in Anne’s ears stopped and the world exploded with sound and sensation.

Dozens of horns blared from commuters who were impatient and annoyed with traffic that should have been as familiar to them as the back of their hands. Heat seared Anne’s exposed skin as the metal of the vehicle they were lying on burned from the exposure to the Californian sun. Exhaust rose in black clouds, sour and noxious, burning Anne’s nose and making her eyes water.

There was the click of the car door opening and Anne snapped her head around. The portly man gazed blankly at her as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was witnessing. With a boggled expression, he looked between the girl wearing an armoured chest plate and the three large, anthropomorphic frogs sitting next to her.

“Hi,” chirped Anne, managing to sound upbeat and cheerful. “Sorry, dude. We’ll just be on our way.”

“Where did you come from?” he asked. Anne couldn’t identify his dialect, but his accent coupled with the maple leaf-shaped air freshener and his outfit screamed ‘tourist’. “And what the heck are those?”

Sprig opened his mouth, no doubt to introduce himself, but Anne seized the Plantars in a one-arm hold, squeezing just tightly enough for speech to be difficult. “Sorry,” she repeated, using her free hand to snag the strap of her backpack.

She slid down the hood and if it weren’t for months of walking over sticks, stones and hard, uneven ground, the hot asphalt seeping through her worn-out sock might have crumpled her. But she ignored the pain as she swung her bag over her shoulder. The weight of Frobo’s deactivated head nearly sent her sprawling, but she regained her balance and took off running.

She weaved her way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic, climbing over vans and sports cars and SUVs, ignoring the shouts and curses aimed her way by the disgruntled owners. She reached the metal barrier that separated the embankment from the freeway and she hoisted herself over it.

They tumbled down the grassy slope and Anne sprinted through the trees. The sounds of human civilization eventually quieted and Anne halted her sprint when she registered Sprig smacking at her arm.

She quickly let them go and they dropped to the ground. Anne’s knees buckled as the adrenaline drained right out of her. Her mind was a mess of thoughts and her lungs felt like they were going to collapse.

The flaming blade piercing through Marcy’s chest. The stunned expression in Marcy’s eyes, the way all colour faded from her face. The tears that spilled down her cheeks, and the final words that tumbled from her mouth as her eyes rolled back into her head.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Anne’s agonized scream was promptly choked by the vomit that filled her mouth.

Hop Pop was by her side in an instant, hands gripping her shoulders as she hunched over and hacked into the grass. Her throat burned and her limbs trembled, the sight of Marcy falling lifeless and the sound of Sasha’s horrified howl haunting her.

The sobs that pealed out of her came from somewhere deep inside the girl. They were filled with pure loss and devastation and it echoed amongst the towering trees. Tears poured down Anne’s face, snot leaked from her nose as she cried and her fists pounded into the grass as emotion overcame her.

“Marcy!” she wailed. “Marcy, nooooo! Maaaaarcyyyy!”

Hop Pop wound his arms securely around her neck and pulled her close. Sprig and Polly clung to her, and all of his grandchildren were in a state of grief, tears glimmering on their skin and their small bodies shaking.

Hop Pop swallowed back his own sadness. As traumatizing as it had been to see a child slain in front of his eyes, he had to be strong for his family. He stroked Anne’s hair, patted Sprig and Polly’s heads, and gave comfort not with words but his presence.

Anne cried herself hoarse. When she found she had run out of tears to shed, she weakly sat up and wiped at her face. “It’s not fair,” she said croakily. “Hop Pop, it’s not fair.”

“I know, kiddo. I’m so sorry.” Hop Pop rubbed his thumb gently over Anne’s knuckles.

“She sacrificed herself to save us,” said Sprig, squeezing his eyes shut against the swell of despair. “Her and Sasha.”

Anne gave a distraught moan, her head bowing slightly as the weight of two worlds crushed against her shoulders.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” ordered Hop Pop, and Anne reluctantly lifted her chin. “We don’t know what happened to Sasha. She’s a tough one. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“We don’t know that!” shouted Anne, her voice cracking. “Marcy should have been fine, but she isn’t! She’s dead, and Sasha might be too! This isn’t how it was supposed to go! We were supposed to come home together!”

She began to dry heave, stress and panic and grief clenching tight around her heart and making her feel sick. Hop Pop grabbed her face with both hands and stared steadily into her wet eyes. “Breathe with me. In and out.”

Anne’s first attempts resulted in strangled gasps, but eventually she gained control of her breathing. “I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“We worry about that later,” said Hop Pop firmly.

“But what about Andrias? And if Sasha is still alive—”

“Anne, right now, none of us are in a state to do much of anything,” said Hop Pop calmly. “To be honest, I don’t know if we can do anything.”

Anne blinked at him before realization hit. “The music box is still in Amphibia.”

Polly was crestfallen. “Does that mean we’ll never be able to go home?”

“What about Bessie and MicroAngelo?” asked Sprig desperately. “And Ivy! I didn’t get to say goodbye to Ivy!”

“Hush,” said Hop Pop soothingly, pulling Sprig and Polly into his arms. “The townspeople will take care of our snails, and I’m sure Ivy will understand, Sprig. As for going back home, I don’t know.” He let out a heavy sigh, feeling every year of his existence weigh down his bones. “Maybe we can figure something out. But if we can’t, we have each other. Home is where we are, even if we aren’t in Wartwood.”

He swept his eyes over his grandchildren, biological and adopted, and saw the words provided little peace in the moment of intense sorrow. But he knew they would come to appreciate how fortuitous it was that they returned to Anne’s world as a family, even when the losses they suffered hung darkly over their thoughts.

Anne was staring numbly at the ground and Hop Pop tugged lightly at her elbow. She fell easily into his embrace, as if she were made of nothing but feathers, and her forehead rested against the top of his head. For a moment they just stayed there, Anne’s body radiating warmth and causing Polly and Sprig to nestle closer to her, seeking her familiar heat.

Polly was the first one to hear the musical twinkling. She blinked over at Anne’s backpack. “Anne, your bag is singing.”

Anne slowly turned to follow Polly’s gaze, and it took her several seconds to register the noise. Suddenly it was as if a live wire had touched her and jolted to action, shrieking, “My phone!”

The Plantars were jostled as she dove for her bag. She ripped Frobo’s head out and Polly said furiously, “Hey! Don’t treat him like he’s junk!”

But Anne barely heard her. She plunged her hand into her bag, the bristles of her brush and points of her bobby pins sticking her flesh. Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she yanked it out.

Her text alert, which she hadn’t heard in months, was jarring to her ears. The notification center on her phone was being flooded by dozens and dozens of texts, missed calls and voicemail alerts. They poured in so fast Anne was only able to glimpse the names attached before they were replaced by another batch of notifications.

The majority of the texts were from Sasha, Marcy and Anne’s parents. There were a couple from the local police station, which caused Anne’s stomach to grow cold with fear. She hadn’t even considered the consequences of literally disappearing off the face of the Earth.

And then her phone froze, unable to keep up with the backlog of messages coming in all at once. Frustrated, Anne stabbed at her screen with her finger, but it was no use.

Her eyes fell upon the last text to make it to her notification center. It was from her mother.

Oh, นางฟ้า, your father and I miss you so much. We pray for a sign that you and the girls are alive, and that you will return home soon.

“Oh, Mommy,” whispered Anne, her fingers digging into the rubber material of her phone case.

Hop Pop approached and set a hand against her back. “Let’s go see your parents,” he said softly.

“But I don’t even know what to say to them,” she said helplessly. “I don’t know if they’ll understand. It’s…the things I’ve been through, the things we’ve been through, they don’t happen here. Not ever.”

“Well, we’re here to help you explain things,” said Sprig earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m…I think I might need some time to prepare them for you three,” muttered Anne. “They are so gonna freak out.” She glanced back at her frozen screen, and her heart plummeted as she read the most recent message from Marcy’s father. “Oh, how do I tell them?” she said in despair. “How do I tell Sasha’s parents that I had to leave her behind? How do I tell Marcy’s parents that their daughter is…is…”

Her voice wobbled and her eyes started to sting once more. Anne wanted to cry, but she didn’t have the energy nor the water for proper tears. Hop Pop gently set her phone back in her bag, which Anne allowed without protest. He laced his fingers with hers and said, “We’ll tell them the truth, Anne. That’s all we can do. We’ll tell ‘em how brave their daughters are.”

Anne gave a sniff. She tugged her hand free from Hop Pop’s grasp so she could rub at her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.”

She took a few minutes to gather herself, to try and clumsily sort through the heavy emotions swirling in her chest. She wanted to mourn, but there wasn’t time. She had to see her parents, had to tell them what happened.

“So, how long have you been gone?” asked Polly in a small voice, embarrassed by her earlier outburst. “Does time work the same way here?”

“Um…I don’t know.” Anne gestured to her pink backpack, where her phone was once again nestled safely inside. “It froze on me, so I can’t check the calendar or anything. And I didn’t get to see the dates on the first few rounds of texts.” She looked over to see the pollywog nuzzling Frobo’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Polly. I shouldn’t have thrown him around like that.”

“S’okay,” mumbled Polly. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just really sad and upset right now.”

“Me too.” Anne leaned over and brought Polly into her arms, pressing a gentle kiss against her head. “I’m sorry, Polly. Maybe we can fix him.”

“Yeah,” piped up Sprig. “He just needs a new body, right? When we get home, we can go back to that weird machine place and get him a fresh one.”

Polly perked up at that. “Yeah…yeah!” she said. “If we keep his head safe, we can rebuild him!”

There was hope in her eyes. It glimmered and shone and Anne found herself hypnotized by it.

Something flickered in her heart.

“Until then, we’ll do what we can here.”

Hop Pop, Polly and Sprig looked at her in surprise. The teen’s chin was set, her mouth settled in a determined line. “Anne?” ventured her best friend. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not just going to sit here and wait,” said Anne. Her own hope ignited, and the spark soon blazed throughout her whole being. “I’m not gonna just do nothing.” She set Polly down and stood, her fists clenched by her sides. “You’re right, Hop Pop. Sasha’s fine. Marcy…Marcy made the mistake of turning her back to Andrias, but that wasn’t her fault. Sasha won’t do that. She’ll find a way to take the box from that monster and open the portal again.

“But until she figures that out, I gotta do my part. That music box came to Earth somehow. The thrift store where Marcy found it, they had a wardrobe with the Amphibia symbol engraved into the wood. And Marcy knew what the box could do, which meant she found some information about it somewhere.”

She thought about Wartwood, her home away from home. She thought about Wally, Mrs. Croaker, Archie, Bessie, MicroAngelo, Toadstool, Toadie, Loggle, Ivy, Sylvia, Felicia, Stumpy, Maddie and the rest of her friends from the humble country town. She thought about Sasha, who despite her need for control and her habit of lying to get what she wanted, came through for her friends in the end.

She thought about Marcy.

She had tricked them into leaving their parents, their lives, and trapping them in a world so beyond imagination that Anne never in a million years would have dreamed it up. She had done it because she was so scared to lose the friends she loved most, so desperate to stay with Sasha and Anne forever.

She had been inconsiderate. She had been selfish.

So had Anne. So had Sasha. Marcy didn’t deserve to die for her mistakes—none of them did. They were just three teen girls who sometimes did stupid, stupid things.

But they cared about each other—Anne believed that. Even if it was misguided, even if it was manipulative, she knew Sasha and Marcy cared about her—they sometimes just went about it in all the wrong ways.

And even though Marcy was the reason they were in this mess in the first place, and even though Sasha’s trickery was the reason Anne didn’t initially believe her about Andrias, she cared about them, too.

Right now, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t sure if she still wanted to be friends with Sasha after all she had done. It didn’t matter that she still stung over Marcy’s own manipulative scheme to take her friends away from everything they ever knew.

However complicated her emotions currently were, it didn’t mean she couldn’t still care about the two girls she’d shared her most precious memories with.

She was going to find a way to get back to Amphibia. She was going to save her friends. She was going to bring her frog family back home. She was going to save Amphibia and countless other worlds from Andrias’ tyranny.

She wouldn’t let anyone else she loved die by his hands.

“We’re not helpless!” she said fiercely. “We won’t let him make us helpless! We’re gonna stop him!”

Her pupils and irises illuminated a bright blue.

“They did it again!” exclaimed Polly.

Anne blinked and the colour of her eyes returned to normal. “What?”

“Your eyes! They did the funny light-up thing! Are you gonna turn blue again?”

Anne flexed her fingers, but she didn’t feel numb or tingly, like she had when Andrias had thrown Sprig out the window. “No, I don’t think so.” She glanced down at her hands, brow furrowed. “To be honest, I have no idea how that happened. I don’t even really remember it? I mean, I know what I did, but it felt like I wasn’t in my body while I was doing it.”

Sprig looked between Polly and Anne in confusion. “I clearly missed something when I was falling to my death.”

“Oh, it was so cool, Sprig! Anne went all glowy, and she was using blue magic, and she was flying! She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias!” said Polly excitedly.

The words reverberated through Anne’s mind; She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias.

She could beat him. She was still connected to her stone, and that fact seemed to cause Andrias great unease.

“Do you think you’d be able to use those powers again, Anne?” asked Hop Pop, following her same train of thought.

“I’ll learn,” said Anne firmly. “I’ll figure it out. Once I get control of my powers, Andrias won’t stand a chance.”

There was no question of whether or not she’d be able to gain control of her newfound abilities—she had to. It was her best bet to defeat Amphibia’s king.

Sprig tilted his head to the side. “Do you know what activated them in the first place?”

Anne regarded him, intense warmth and adoration bubbling in her stomach, and she gave a soft smile. “You. When he threw you out the window, I thought you were dead, and I was so angry.”

At a momentary loss for words, Sprig’s eyes filled with touched tears and he jumped into her arms. “Oh, Anne.”

“I love you,” said Anne passionately. She lowered to her knees and brought Hop Pop and Polly into her steel embrace. “I love all of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“We love you too,” said Hop Pop tenderly, lightly running his fingers through her curly hair. “That’s what we’ve got over Andrias—love for one another. Pardon the sappiness of it, but that’s what we’ll use to beat him.”

“It’s not sappy at all,” said Anne. “It’s the truth.” She gave them one more tight squeeze before setting them back down. She grabbed her backpack, swinging it over her shoulders, and she picked up Frobo’s head. “Come on. I’ve kept Mom and Dad waiting long enough. I can’t wait for you guys to meet each other.”

They headed back to the freeway, where Anne hoped one of the stuck commuters would be willing to lend her their cell phone so she could call her parents to pick them up. As they made their way up the littered slope, Anne closed her eyes briefly.

Hang on, Wartwood. I’m coming back for you. Do what you can until I get there, Sasha. I know you can do it—you never give up.

A lump swelled in her throat, and she swallowed back a sob.

We won’t let him win, Marcy. I promise we won’t. You saved us, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t return the favour.

A breeze kicked up, ruffling her thick, curly hair, and in the caress of the wind she swore she could hear a carefree giggle and a sweet summons of Anna-Banana. She let out a slow breath, and a lone tear spilled from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

I forgive you, Mar-Mar. I forgive you.

#amphibia #amphibia spoilers #true colors #amphibia fanfic #true colors fanfic #anne boonchuy #sprig plantar #hop pop plantar #polly plantar #grief #mourning #angst #hurt/comfort #byanimationnut #tw death #death

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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years

Text

Chrollo + Phantom Troupe Teaser

Word Count: 5.2k

(Teaser my ass, holy shit this is going to be a long one)

Name: (y/n) Kurta

Nen Type: Conjurer

Nen Ability: Terracotta gauntlets with a lion head on top of the hand. The lion head can detach from the clawed gauntlets and act as physics-defying grappling hooks.

Example of Ability: You can use the grappling hooks to grab and throw whatever is caught, this can include people or other large objects. It will feel fairly weightless.

| Part 2 |

~~~

You remember the day perfectly, it was humid and moist, yet just cool enough to stop you from sweating. You had on your usual Kurta garb, purple and yellow with symbols and designs in honor of your heritage. You stayed home that day, being two months pregnant with your future child made your father worry too much.

You were barely showing at this point, but he still kept you home despite your line of work. You were a protector of sorts, a guard to your clan, keeping everyone protected as well as leaving to explore the world and bring back new things. You enjoyed your job, but your sweet old man didn't want you to over exert yourself.

"When you leave again you'll have to bring your secret lover." Your father would constantly start. "I bet he's a gentleman considering what your mother taught you." A fatherly smile gleaming over his wrinkling features. "If he runs off I'll hunt him down and strap him to our dinner table." He would joke.

You would lightly scold your father, knowing he would surely follow his words. "Stop. Keep acting like that and you'll chase him away."

You sighed at the fond memories, glancing out the window of the kitchen to watch the bright sun set below the horizon line. Deep purples and rich oranges decorated the clouds in a comforting glow. Another color, rich and warm, too warm, littered the skies. Coal black smoke rose above the tree tops and covered the beautiful sky in a suffocating cloak.

A lump got caught in your throat at the sight, you knew the colors and smoke anywhere, the burning trash of Meteor City making it a familiar sight. The smell too, burning your nostrils and making you cringe further confirmed what was happening.

Fire. Burning, raging fire was engulfing the village and eating it whole. Screams and cries for help filled the air as buildings crumpled into the ground. That was your call to action, you jumped out of your window and summoned up your nen, claws outstretched and prepared to slice any unknown mother fucker you could find.

You found one, a dark silhouette in the night with a slim build and intense pink aura coming from their hands. It felt familiar, the aura, but you didn't pay it any mind before shooting out the lion head on your gauntlets.

With chattering teeth they by harshly into the figure's forearms, dragging them across the floor and above your head into a burning building behind you. You cried and quickly jumped on the figure, slicing at their chest. Large, long gashes oozed out buckets of blood, and you quickly silenced the figure's cries with a even deeper gash to the throat... their head now hanging by a thin thread of flesh.

The blood that coated your nen gauntlets were nothing compared to the crimson that flooded your eyes. You would slaughter anyone that was not a clan member, you swore on that. Looking around your red tinted gaze fell upon the horrors caused by the raiders.

Bodies, bloodied and broken beyond recognition littered the ground. You wobbled over to one of them, barely making out who it was, an elderly woman you could almost call a grandmother. Her wrinkled features were slack and littered with blood, but the empty, oozing sockets where her eyes should be haunted your nightmares. You wailed louder than the dying screams, fat tears streaming down your cheeks and landing in the empty holes.

"Papa!" You shrieked, stumbling up off the ground and rushing further into the carnage. Your legs barely kept up as you rushed past the fire ridden village. "PAPA!" You screeched into the crackling night.

You paused, breath caught in your throat making you choke on the smoke. There was a silhouette shrouded by ash and darkness and flames, a distinguishable fur coat lining its figure. You gagged at the smoke, hiding behind a broken building to listen to the mumbling figure.

"Has anyone found her?" A smooth, honey like voice echoed past the dying screams.

Chrollo? Wha-? What's going on?! You stumbled on a piece of debris, tripling and falling onto a warm, bloodied corpse. You gave out a strained whimper, almost a shriek, as you tried to collect yourself and run away.

You could hear him behind you, you could almost feel him behind you. His nen spilled from his pores and surrounded you in a suffocating hold. You quietly gagged, hand over your mouth as you held back the bile rising in your throat. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes, blurring your vision with smoke and tears.

~~~

You bit your bottom lip, whipping your hair over your shoulder and staring at the man across from you. He was large, muscles bulging through the thin black shirt he wore, yet he was no where near strong enough to take you down. Theoretically, the only person out of this year's batch of hunters that could possibly stand against you was yourself and that clown whom got his ass kicked out for attacking one of the wardens. This guy was no where near your level, you couldn't even sense any nen.

"What's wrong little girl?" He spat, crouching down and preparing to bulldoze you. "Shaking in your boots?"

You narrowed your eyes with a scowl, scoffing and looking at the chairman across the plaza. "Hardly."

The large man growled and dashed with his arms out stretched. Typical. You jumped high into the air and twisted around, your leg coming back down on his thick skull. Your foot clashed against the crown of his head and shoved his face into the ground, bringing him to a dead stop. Jumping back to the ground you inspected the damage, the floor was cracked and you could barely see his head past the new hole in the ground. The man wasn't moving, you knocked him out.

There was some clapping from the end of the plaza, shoes clacking against tile as he wondered closer. His steel grey eyes trailed down to your chest as he neared, old perv. "I'm a little disappointed." He mused, looking back up to meet your stern gaze. "I thought he would have a better chance against you. Though, it's always a treat to see a first timer beat the Hunter Exam."

You lightly smiled at the praise, a small memory of your father coming into mind. "I appreciate it."

Netero grinned at your words, but it slightly faltered when he glanced back at the designs of your clothes. "So, what hunter are you aiming to be?" He started as he shuffled through his clothes.

"Bounty Hunter, there are a few people I want to find."

"The Phantom Troupe, hm? I can't blame you, they have done some pretty horrible things."

You glanced over at the old man, your gaze being met with a knowing expression and a Hunter License. "Thanks...." You warily replied, taking hold of your new license. It should serve you well, you hoped.

A few hours later you wondered into the fancy hotel you were staying at. A few strangers glanced at you with a disgusted look, you couldn't blame them as you were still covered in dirt, leaves and a few splotches of blood. A tired sigh escaped your lips once you finally got to your room, taking the card and swiping it you entered with a delicate smile. "Kurapika! (S/n)! Where are you guys?"

A tuft of blond hair wizzes past the corner of the small living room. Dark grey eyes quickly following and staring back at you with a disgruntled expression. "Your son is a handful." Spat Kurapika.

Behind him a small, pale skinned figure peeked behind the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on his chubby face. "Momma!" He screeched, rushing over and running into your waiting arms.

You gave him a kiss on his forehead, using your hand to push away his fluffy raven hair. "Pretty sure you were the handful Kurapika, no way this little angel was was trouble."

Kurapika slightly smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Only when you are around, anyway, how did it go?"

You sighed and sat on the marble flooring. "It was really easy, but I've had the training for it to be easy. You will probably have a hard time, especially if that clown shows up again." You mumbled the last part, moving to the kitchen to grab you a snack, you were starving.

"Then teach me the "magic" you claim to know."

"I wanna see magic! Momma can you teach me too?" You took a big bite out of your snack, giving a glare to both of the kids.

"Sorry squirt, when you get older I'll teach you."

Kurapika furrowed his brows. "You keep telling me that if I pass the hunter exam you'll teach me."

"Change of plans-"

"Change of plans?! What do you mean change of plans? I still don't understand why you won't teach me this "magic" you keep talking about! I would be strong enough to fight the Phantom-"

"Kurapika." You sternly glared in his direction, the look in your eyes forcing everyone to quite down. "You know I don't want you to even get involved with this. Besides the change of plans isn't that bad, I want you to figure out this "magic" thing yourself and return when you are ready. I still want to teach you, but I don't want you to get killed in the process.

"I have a plan to find and hunt down the Troupe, but it will take time. If you aren't ready by the time I am, you will not be permitted to help. Instead you will stay somewhere safe and take care of (s/n) for me."

Kurpaika's dark grey eyes stared into the back of your head and burned holes into your skull. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, yes I am. Even if you learn this "magic" there is no telling how powerful you will become. Even with years and years of rigorous training like myself, I won't stand a chance against more than two of them at a time." You kept your stance, standing tall above the blond you called a little brother. "I don't want to see you get hurt, Kurapika. I can't see you get hurt."

Your son waddled over to your tense form and wrapped his shirt arms around your thighs. "He won't get hurt momma, I'll make sure of it!" A beaming smile did it's best to comfort you.

"I know you will, (s/n)." You turned your attention back to the blond, giving him a stern stare that told him you meant what you said. "I want to protect him too."

Kurapika growled, you knew how important finding and slaughtering the Troupe was to him, so why make it so difficult? Wouldn't it be easier to teach him and make him stronger so the both of you can fight?

You looked away from the blond as he stormed into one of the off rooms, you knew what he was thinking, but that wouldn't change your mind. You blamed yourself for your clan's slaughter and you wouldn't be able to live if he was to die too. You didn't want him to get involved in our own affairs, especially when they were so dangerous.

"Momma," You glanced down at the head of fluffy black hair still clinging to your legs. "Why do you and Uncle Kurapika argue so much? Who is this Phantom Troupe?" His chuffs cheeks puffed out, his brows furrowing in thought.

"(S/n)... it's a long story. One you aren't old enough to hear I'm afraid." You leaned down, picked him up, and rubbed your nose to his own rosy one. "Till then I'll keep you safe."

"From the Troupe?"

You glanced away form his coal black eyes, the painful memories a bit too much to handle at the moment. "From monsters that want to hurt you." You planted a kiss on his forehead, wiping away some of the scars burned into your mind.

~~~

You were going to strangle that boy when you find him. With gritted teeth and blazing eyes, you haven't been this pissed off in years. You stomped over to the glass window of the hotel room your all too kind employer provided.

You gave him simple instructions, go off and figure out the basics of "magic", and then return for more training. It was supposed to be a test for the rebellious teen.

That's what it was supposed to be. Instead, he decided he had enough of you and left to find the Troupe on his own, leaving your precious son to be alone in a secure hotel room while you worked. You might just kill Kurapika next time you see him.

You fanned down the small wrinkles on your slim dress, straightening out the slit that trailed to your thigh. It was black and long enough to trail behind your tall heels. Around your neck was a pearl necklace and a fur scarf hanging on your shoulders. Your hair was curled and allowed to flow freely behind you. You also had some pearl earrings and a pearl bracelet.

Swiping the last of your lipstick on, pursing your lips and giving them a little smack before turning to the small child on the couch. His eyes were glued to a puzzle he decided was more interesting than the television. "(S/n), I'm going to have to go in a minute. You'll be fine right?"

Doe eyes glanced back at you, a puzzle piece tightly held in his hands. "I'll be fine!"

"You remember the rules right?"

"No leaving without you or Kurapika, don't answer the door unless it is you or Kurapika, make sure I call you if something is wrong or when I go to bed,-"

"I get it." You waved a hand in his face, a gentle smile etched onto your painted lips. "My smart little boy remembers everything."

He nodded, leaning into the backside of the couch to wrangle you into a hug. "Come back soon!"

"I will, don't worry. Love you."

"Love you too."

You were off, leaving and meeting with your employer at his hotel before making your way to a dinner with a few high end Mafia men. You quickly met up with the man, he was a son to one of the ten dons and hired you as both a body guard and a rental girlfriend. A little demeaning in your eyes but anything to get close to your targets.

"You look stunning." Mentioned the man, his arm linking with your own. He was a handsome man, that was obvious, a real charmer too. With chocolate brown hair slicked back and bright green eyes you could stare at for an eternity. He was broad shouldered and muscular underneath his crisp dark grey suit, a pale yellow under shirt and a maroon tie adding to his attractiveness. The poor flirt would be dead if you outwardly admitted that though.

"Likewise." Your hand placed itself on top his forearm, letting him guide you to the fancy limousine he had for the two of you.

You decided conversation would be the best thing at the moment, as getting to know a man you are supposed to temporarily date would be best for the illusion. "Where are we going to meet your father?"

"Ah, a nice restaurant just a few blocks uptown from the auction site." He directed his head to take your facial features in. "They have the best steak I've ever had, amazing garlic butter."

You were beyond tense, but a relaxed smile crept onto your lips. "I just might have to try that. Who else is coming?"

"My father's friends, one is another don, and my two other brothers. I wouldn't worry though, they might ask you a few questions but I would just let me do the talking." He gave you a kind smile, turning back to the driver and telling him the name of the restaurant.

"I don't mean to be rude, but if anything happens I'll have to leave and take care of it."

"Oh! I know, they know. My family actually told me to, uh, rent a girlfriend for the auction days." He ran a hand through his chocolate locks, a sigh escaping his lips and he relaxed in his chair. "Rumor has it that something bad might happen during this auction. Something about sleeping? Like death."

"If that's the case, then I might have to take an early leave."

He gave you a cocky grin. "Just tell me what's happening outside the restaurant, I'm curious about what kind of stuff a hunter gets into."

You returned his gaze, finally relaxing just a bit more. "I'll make sure to keep you posted."

"Sir," alerted the driver. "We're here."

"Good! Let's get something to eat, shall we?"

You nodded, sliding your dress to the side to exit the vehicle. "Oh! Please, don't make me look bad." He jested, quickly shuffling to your side to open the door. "I'll embarrass myself in front of my dad."

"About that, I never introduced myself did I? My name is (y/n)."

He gave a dopey grin. "Right, I'm Jason, it probably would be a good idea to know each other's names, huh? Well, let's go before my dad thinks we are doing something suggestive." He winked and held out his arm for you to take, in which you did with a small scoff.

The two of you walked into the restaurant, a grand archway with a fancy chandelier lighting up the entire entrance with a warm glow. Black marble coated the floor with a glossy reflection, and your heels clicked against them with an elegant sway of your dress.

A man stood at the enterence, another shorter version of Jason. "Ah, Jason! How've you been?" He glanced over at you and gave a devilish grin. "Wow, what a catch. Maybe she'll decide to stay?"

The new stranger sauntered over, a shoulder being wrapped around your shoulders. "If he isn't your type I'm always available. Jackson, by the way." He whispered in your ear with a raspy tone.

"Ignore him," Jason mumbled to you, his cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, "He's always like this with any human of the female gender."

Humor yourself, or let the poor man walk away with some of his dignity intact? Nah, if you were going to give some of your dignity with these men you might as well have some fun. "You poor thing," You began, turning with a gentle smile to the brother. "Can't keep it in his pants, hmm?" You softly patted the fluffy hair on his head and pouted, shuffling out of his grip and wrapping your arm back with Jason. "Better luck next time." You retorted with a little wave.

With his breath caught in his throat, he coughed and turned to the direction of where their table was. "The tables this way, dad's already there." His mumbling quieted down as he led the way.

Jason turned to you, kept in a laugh, and shrugged. The restaurant was warm along with the cozy glow of the chandeliers hanging from the tall roof. There were many tables, black with cushioned chairs and blazing candles.

Your eyes zeroed on the candles, the beautifully dangerous flame causing you to start sweating. You gulped down the lump in your throat and forced yourself to relax your tensing limbs. 'It's just a small flame, nothing to be afraid of.' You scolded yourself.

The two of you wondered into a private room in the back. There was a large, round, black table in the center of the room, a few couches on the walls with side tables. There were a few candles in the center along with a crystal vase filled with blood red roses. As much as you loved the roses, they reminded you of him.

To distract yourself you glanced around the room, the father and Jackson were conversing, the other son sitting and listening. Jackson pointed in your direction, a sly smirk on his face.

Jason leaned in. "That's my dad," he pointed over to one of the other walls near the couch. A man was leaning on the side, his crisp suit wrinkling with his crossed legs. He had a beard, small but neat, with deep blue eyes and tan flesh. "That is Manchile, he's the Don I was talking about."

There were a few other notable people, but when Jason and you entered the entire room lightened up. The father stood and sauntered over, a sleazy smile gracing his gruff features. "I hope Jason didn't make a move on you?" He extended his hand, slightly calloused from use, but large and warm.

You took it with a gentle smile, time to suck up your pride and be a darling. "I wouldn't worry about him, he's quite the gentleman." Your hand was in worse shape than his, more rough, and must have noticed. The father's face changed into one of surprise and respect. "I'd watch out for that one though." You pointed to Jackson, the man lightly scoffing with a grin.

"Will do." He said with a chuckle.

Manchile joined the table, a few of his men sitting down too. "I'm starved, let's eat."

"Sure thing." The father returned his attention to Jason and you. "Ladies first."

The table was filled, and you ended up being sandwiched between Jason and Manchile. Your eyes would periodically go back to the candles in front of you, and all you could do was twist a small bit of your dress skirt to calm your nerves. You all ordered, and you took your date's advice with the steak.

As you were waiting, the unknown brother, leaned in and gave you a curious smile. "So, a hunter huh? I've never met one, what's it like?"

All eyes were on you now, and you relaxed with the distraction. "It's dangerous work... but if you were trained correctly then it is worth it. Plenty of benefits as long as you hunt something."

"Who trained you?" His green eyes gleamed begins his thin glasses. "Sorry if I'm prying, just curious."

"I don't mind. I trained myself. I've always wanted to become a hunter."

"Really? Ooh, what about the test? I've heard it's impossible!"

You slightly smiled, Manchile leaning in and joining the conversation. "Some of my men are hunters, they talked about fighting each other and impossible puzzles. My best man had to find the damned test four times before he made it."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Well he's not wrong. All the tests are different but we did have to fight each other. There were some puzzles but I didn't think they were that difficult...." You locked your lipstick and took a sip of your water, keeping your posture and chin held high. "Four times huh? I got my license on my first try."

Manchile cackled in his water cup. "Really? You make my best look like babies." The waiter returned with a large bottle of red wine and began to pour it to everyone who wanted some. You declined, drinking on the job wouldn't bid well if something happened. "Next your going to say you could win against one of the beasts."

You stayed silent, doing your best to keep your smile hidden behind your glass of water. Jason peeked over and noticed your curled lips. "No way, seriously?"

"Not sure, never tried." You commented, giving him a cocky side eye. "But probably."

It was the father's turn to laugh, Jackson joining in with some bread in his hands. "Come on, no one's stronger than the beasts. You've got to be crazy."

The father butted in with a joke. "You're a bounty hunter right? You didn't come here to take us out, hmm?"

"No, no, that'd be bad for business. I'm actually after the Phantom Troupe." The table quieted down, so you continued. "Rumor has it some people will 'sleep' tonight, take that as you will, I'm just here for security purposes. More or less."

Manchile waved over a waiter and asked for another bottle before asking some more questions. "You think they will attack? What makes you think they are crazy enough to challenge the mafia?"

"Well, I will admit I don't have proof, but it would be a missed opportunity. I mean if people are going to 'sleep' then the only criminals crazy enough to try anything would be the Troupe. They are also strong enough to do so. I guess you could say it's a hunch."

A few new waiters entered with the food. They set it on the table, asked if we needed anything else, and left.

"Well, son, you found one interesting woman, huh?"

Jason gave a breathy laugh, as if he was trying to keep his nerves together. "Yeah, I guess I did."

The current conversation died out and turned into useless banter. What they wanted to get from the auctions, who they would be fighting it for, money, fame, glory, all of it. Jason leaned over and asked if you wanted something, but you declined the generous offer. You knew there would be Kurt's eyes, but buying them seemed a bit off. Almost like cheating.

You wanted to collect them through force, just like they did, only then will you be satisfied. Still, you appreciated the offer and made sure he knew you did.

Everything was calm, the food was hot and the candles became a later memory from the conversations you were listening in on. That was until a sudden ding echoed in the private room. Then another, and another, and quickly everyone's phones rang of emergency alerts and messages.

You didn't have to glance over Jason's shoulder to see the message, you already knew what happened. Still, a part of you checked to make sure you didn't have to leave the welcoming lot of individuals.

You didn't know wether to be disappointed or excited, but either way you faced your date. "I'll head over to the auction house to investigate—"

"We all will." Commanded the father. "The merchandise is missing, as well as everyone else."

"Everyone else?"

Manchile pulled himself from his seat. "Owl grabbed the stuff before shit went down. But everyone in the auction house is gone, poof, missing." There was another synchronized ding. "There's a hot air balloon heading south."

"In the direction of Meteor City?" You commented, already heading towards the door. "I'll head over there. Keep me informed, I need a list of the people missing and a list of people chasing down the balloon. Anything else of importance will help." You pointed to Jason, but he held out his hand.

"Do you think it's the Troupe?"

You turned and stared into his chocolate eyes, his brows furrowed with worry. So you smiled kindly. "I know it's the Troupe."

"Get the Shadow Beasts." The father's voice trailed off behind the door.

You were calm as you walked through the restaurant, the hectic banter of the trailing mafia men closely behind. They passed you and exited, you quickly following suit. The outside air was crisp and humid from an old rain and the clouds coated the sky like a blanket.

"Are you calling them Jared?"

"Hurry and get worm on the phone Jackson!"

"You already have the merchandise? Good, good, keep it safe and get the others. Worm, Rabid Dog, Porcupine, and Leech are already on their way."

"(Y/n)! If it's the Troupe you should wait for the other beasts and go with them. Just to be safe." Jason held your hand, finally noticing the toughness of your overworked hands. His were soft, raised with little trouble unlike yourself.

"I'll be fine, I'm strong enough to last against one, maybe two of the members if I'm lucky." You slipped your hand from his grip and tore off your expensive heels, no need for them to get ruined like your dress. "Can you hold these for me? I'd hate for them to get dirty." You handed him your pearls, leaving the earrings because they wouldn't get caught on anything. "I'll have to come back and get them."

You smiled at him again and summoned your gauntlets, dashing off to catch a hot air balloon. He stared at your disappearing form, a clear as day blush spread across his cheeks.

~~~

You made it after a while of running, but the battle had already begun. You stationed yourself on top of the plateau surrounding the battlefield, and already you scolded yourself for not trying to keep the beasts as back-up.

Their bodies littered the floors and blood soaked the dry earth. Biting your lip, you assessed the playing field. Uvogin sat alone, a hairy man you could only assume was the Porcupine character stuck to his fist. The rest of the Troupe members, not all of them, sat along the sides with cards in their hands. Machi, Nobunaga, Feitan, Franklin, Shizuku and Shalnark. You wondered if that was everyone or if someone was hiding.

Next was a few mafia men smart enough to not engage in battle, but why haven't they run off yet? You would have taken more care in who they might be, but you were quickly cut off with an ear piercing scream. You covered your ears and crouched down further, wincing at your late reaction.

Uvogin smiled and waited. Blood spurt from Porcupine's ears and not a moment later he fell to the floor with a dead eyed thud. The mafia men began to make their move, so you wondered closer to where they were stationed.

Then it happened, chains tightly wound themselves around Uvogin and tugged him into oblivion. Chains... chains! Kurapika! With your new revelation you ran towards the car everyone was piling into. But in no time Uvogin was packed in and they began their drive away.

With a low growl you sprinted faster and jumped off the cliff side and towards the first car. You tumbled onto the roof, denting it underneath the impact, and attached yourself with your gauntlets.

Your burning rage dismissed the passenger's window, and you smashed into it without care for who was on the other side. Gripping their shirt and almost pulling them out, the frightened girl screeching. "Kurapika!"

Two pairs of red eyes stared into each other's souls. He knew he was in deep shit. "(Y/n)-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You snapped, pointing your finger to the man tied up in the backseat., but your eyes stayed glued on the blond. "I swear to god if I hear any bullshit I'm going to tear a tongue out!"

"Someone's in a pissy mood." A deep voice reverberated through the small confines of the black car. Finally, you glared at the man in the back seat, his entire body tied under nen chains.

"Eat lead Uvo."

"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."

God, you hated that nickname.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere phantom troupe #yandere chrollo lucilfer #Yandere chrollo #Yandere Phantom Troupe x reader #Yandere chrollo x reader #just a teaser because this one is a long one #Kurta reader #fem reader #Yandere x reader #not even a teaser literally probably the first half #maybe the first third of the full fiction #Yandere hunter x hunter fanfic #puttin grandom tags cause it’s late #love you guys #strong reader

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