#gritting my teeth it is Good actually to leave the comfort zone it’s good.
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loverslover · 9 months ago
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wild that I haven’t ever freedrawn inked and colored a fully finished piece of art with a background ever before in my entire life and I thought it was gonna be something that wouldn’t be that hard. To do. Just on a lark. Man
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cloudcountry · 2 years ago
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SUMMARY: Floyd is your most trusted bodyguard.
WARNINGS: Reader gets overwhelmed and grabbed by a reporter.
COMMENTS: this is a direct attack on @siphoklansan I DID NOT FORGET!!!! here is your bodyguard au (and i hope your floyd fever is treated soon <3)
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Flashing cameras and screaming reporters was just your way of life. Being a celebrity wasn’t easy. Your life was constantly being monitored by the press, and every single thing you said was taken and scrutinized.
The limousine you were riding in was comfortable, but your stomach was churning with nerves. The award ceremony you were attending for your work had sent you an invite months before, and you were shocked at the prospect of meeting with so many others who shared your passions. It was to be your first event ever, your chance to do some actual networking. It was exciting, but it was also overwhelming.
By the time it was your turn to enter the hall, your nerves had been reduced to tatters and your hands were sweaty in your gloves.
Floyd opens the door and swings his body downwards, making direct eye contact with you as the camera flash and the reporters scream. To an outsider, it might look like he’s teasing you, but you quickly put together that the real reason he’s doing this is to provide you with a safe haven. He’s the one that helps you adjust to the cameras, he’s the one that offers you his hand, he’s the one that protects you from most of the camera flashes with his body. Question after question is being hurtled at you, but you just smile and wave, knowing better than to try and answer them.
Literally seconds before you enter the hall in which the event is being held, Floyd grabs you by the arm and yanks you into his chest. You feel fingers brush against your other wrist a second too late, and your head whips towards the foreign touch.
There’s a reporter standing there, thrusting his microphone into your face with a desperation you’ve never seen before.
“Is it true that you’re seeing someone?” he screams, eyes bulging out of his head.
You flinch at the loud noise and curl into your bodyguard’s chest. You don’t see the look on his face, but you can feel the muscles in his arms flexing and you just know he’s furious.
“Back away from Shrimpy!” Floyd yells back, keeping a firm grip on your waist as he tucks you into his side, “They’re not answerin’ any of your dumb questions!”
You cling to him as he practically drags you inside, away from the reporters and away from the man screaming your name.
“What is he, a super fan or something?” Floyd grumbles, squeezing your waist, “Tch. He should know better than that. Grabbing my Shrimpy.”
You say nothing, staring at the floor in shock. With your rise to fame being fairly recent, you’d never experienced someone actually grabbing at you. It didn’t feel good.
It didn’t feel good at all.
“Hey, you okay?” Floyd murmurs, brow furrowed. This is the first time he’s looked into your eyes since you stepped out of the car, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat when you feel his hand circle your wrists.
“I can go back out there and squeeze that guy for you.” he grits his teeth, sounding so angry it almost scares you.
“No!” you grab onto his shoulder, eyes darting around the entrance hall in a panic, “Don’t, it’s...it’s not worth it.”
Floyd looks up at all the people milling around, talking loudly and laughing. He pouts—an expression you would normally find amusing—and you try to breathe.
“Okay.” he huffs, standing up straight, “You’re right. He looked pretty wimpy, wouldn’t even be a fun squeeze.”
You swallow your panic and try to face the room, but as you take a step forward you realize Floyd is still holding onto your wrist. You look back at him, confused, and he still has that pout on his face.
“I don’t like that he touched you like that.” Floyd says softly, zoned in on your wrist, “Mm...c'mere Shrimpy.”
A strangled squeak leaves your throat as he brings your wrist to his lips and presses a single, gentle kiss to your skin. Your inner wrist burns as he lets it linger, pulling back just enough for you to feel his teeth scrape against the skin.
“Floyd!” you yelp, and he pulls away with a wide grin.
“There. Now you don’t have to think about that bottom feeder anymore.” he giggles, taking his place by your side, “Enjoy the party, Shrimpy.”
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zeroducks-2 · 1 year ago
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Let's get you out of your comfort zone with "Please, shut up" and Eobarry. :3
I was hoping/fearing you'd do this to me hahaha
30. "Please, shut up." - Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne
«I haven't come here to talk.» Barry says through a wince, trying not to grit his teeth and tense up. «Give me what I want and then I'll leave.» «And what is it that you want...?» He's being held and that's already something. But he would much rather the other speedster to just shut his mouth and do as he was asked. «Barry.» Eobard sounds like he's chiding an unruly pup. «I can't help you if you don't explain what ails you.» Sure, like the man actually wants to help him and hadn't agreed to this solely for his own satisfaction. And there's isn't much to say anyway. Barry has been suffering through painful heat flashes and there's nothing nobody can do to help; maybe Wally could but he's a little more than a child, and no, he can't think about that. Just picturing it made him slightly sick. He had thought about Clark but his alien physiology doesn't come in his favor. The man barely has any smell, less than a Beta would, and surely can't pop a knot. It's so frustrating. Going through his heat cycle alone and with his enhanced metabolism has been a challenge ever since he was struck by lightning, but this time... this time he feels ill. He doesn't know what changed, and he's tempted to blame this on the monster who keeps gloating over him like he'd just managed to push him into a corner. He kind of did, actually. It's just that Barry pushed himself into said corner. «Alright, I guess I will do my best even if you refuse to explain.» Eobard says placidly, and the trill that courses through Barry's body is so pleasant he has to sigh. He wonders why it just happened, then realizes the man placed a palm on his belly. «Look at you... I'm barely touching you, Barry. What are you going to do with my knot in you? Cry...?» «Please, shut up.» Barry closes his eyes, leaning back and allowing his weight to rest on Eobard's chest. He's already regretting this but he has no choice, if he spends another heat without an outlet he might die, he can feel his body straining even now, even if the other's smell already worked into placating his cramps and his nausea. «Just shut up and give it to me.» There's a rough but overly pleased chuckle at that, then gentle kisses on the line of his neck down to where his swollen mating gland throbs and hurts. Barry expects the contact to be painful and tenses up again, but there's just long licks of pleasure going down to his belly once the other starts sucking and nipping on it, working the upper part of his suit off of him. He squirms, suddenly self conscious of just how wet he's getting, but he's held fast and a quick scenting makes him involuntarily relax. «I am going to make you feel good.» Eobard says in a rumble which sounds so distinctively Alphan that Barry squirms again, possibly at that more than at the hand cupping his crotch. The Speedster made it sound like it was a reassurance, and in a way it is; Barry just expected not to die. Feeling pleasure was essentially an afterthought. «This is going to be good for both of us. Alright?» His chin is being held up by the other's knuckles and Barry needs to consciously ignore the rising heat flashes to muster a reply. He doesn't really manage and instead lets out a disgruntled growl before surging up for a kiss, digging his fingers into Eobard's nape and shivering hard at how scalding hot his fangs are against Barry's own tongue. He can tell that the man is surprised but he doesn't care, he just wants to be touched. «Just shut up and get to it, Thawne.»
Thank you for the prompt FTL! Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)
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humongousabysmal · 23 days ago
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oxob rambl
jade and oxob only knew of each other prior to their battle. post-duel, both grown respect for the other (jade->oxob because she found his recovery during battles remarkable, he did not give up despite pain or limping; oxob->jade bc she was mad powerful and aided oxob by having her crew fix his prosthetic hands and gift him leg braces)
ending scene of oxob v jade, jade helped oxob up and tpd them both to nemesis’ base, where there they discussed whatever special mission they wanted oxob to do for them
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Im assuming they just wanted him to wipe out certain duelists. some people speculate oxob was out /specifically/ for gg but i heavily disagree, i dont think they even knew about each other. oxob was on his way to a colosseum and just happened to stumble across gg, then they fought on their own accord
in the morning post-gg v oxob where we see oxob heavily injured, gg calls nemesis for healing and leaves him. jade tps to wherever they are in aegis fields and is surprised to see oxob there. im pretty sure she teased him because he was supposed to be on his way to the colosseum, but now hes injured real bad after just one fight completely unrelated to the mission. she doesn’t respect him less, but is now questioning if hes actually suitable for the job. jades buddy heals oxob, oxob is taken back to nemesis hq for new leg braces. he’s pretty embarrassed it’s like being called to the principals office
he’s gifted new bandages and advanced prosthetics, let off with a warning by jade. so oxob goes back to the fields and heads to the colo or wherever he’s supposed to be fighting ppl. he does pretty good and the more he fights ppl the more it sparks his love for street fighting. however his last battle goes bad and he damages his enhancements….again
oxob: *burns buck* hi……. jade: oh my god oxob: :-/………… jade: come on man
however she’s not that upset lol he did his duties. taken back to nemesis hq, observing how he did a darn good job taking out nemesis’ targets, decide to assign him more special missions
oxob: so I’m just your errand boy now? jade: yeah :-P
so oxob, with his real powerful gifted gear now, goes and does his missions. he explores aegis (and probably more areas & meets cool duelists along the way-idk rhg lore that well sry) and goes on his merry way doing his tasks, genuinely looking forward to it each time because it gave him the opportunity to improve his fighting skills as well as just… something to do
one night it’s snowing while oxob is traveling near a village in aegis, cant find sticks or materials anywhere so a freezing oxob, with no other choice, runs to the closest house he sees and knocks
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ITS. THE FRESKING. GILDEDGUY……yes because i love that roommates idea ppl came up w a while back im stealing it. its pure genius
oxob: *through gritted teeth* heey it’s freezing outside if it’s not a bother could- gg: Just Get In Man
because gg is SO FREAKING KIND, oxob is allowed to stay. the moment oxob is dragged in gg immediately falls back to sleep in his bed so oxob just sleeps on the floor. i guess. in the morning gg wakes up before oxob, and completely forgetting he just let some guy in last night, freaks, hey my mind is blanking ok just get tot he point: gg finds out oxob is homeless decides it’s cool for him to stay at his house For Just a Moment. as a wise individual once said “gg is lonely, oxob is homeless, it’s a perfect match.”
of course, gg is wary at first, i mean this IS the guy he had a passionate anime ass fight with we’re talking abt here, but as time goes on he finds out more abt oxob, and since he didn’t really have people to hang with, aside from penny and i guess lillian, For Just A Moment unintentionally slowly turns into Stay For As Long as You Like to Please Stay. it benefits oxob too, as he’s basically forced to get out of his introverted comfort zone and meet the village people, who gladly take him in with open arms! he meets penny, who is….an interesting person to him, to say the least, and oxob learns to open up more and takes gg on his travels. maybe on missions. if nemesis allowed it. idk
introverted poor homeless raggedy shoes errand boy who gets bullied by the leader of aegis’ most powerful group turns into local boy with dubiously gay relationship with his roommate. Thanks for Reading
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minjiseos · 9 months ago
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“No, it’s actually an immaculate conception and there’s a betting pool to see which god decided to place a squatter in my womb, do you want in on it?” The intensity of the moment didn’t affect the words that were tauntingly ready on the tip of her tongue. She could have feigned stoicism, to have crawled away from him in exhaustion yet something had sparked alive in her chest the moment he walked into the room. Silence slipped in, however, allowing several beats to pass where her knuckles whitened with the grasp of her robe until she released a deep sigh. “But yes, it’s his.” To speak Phoenix’s name felt like a calling card, that if she dared to even whisper it, he would creep out from the shadows to put an end to the pathetic existence she’d become. “And as far as staying away goes, it’s best for me if I don’t ever go back.” She had always been displaced; she never truly had a home or a family, and still, the idea of running away from the small reliefs she had built had broken the spirit that kept her fighting all those years. Theo exuded warmth in ways that Minji couldn’t grasp or find comfort in, not when she was a hindrance to an open heart instead of someone who could ease his burdens. “Nothing I feel for him right now is love.” Minji gritted her teeth while she spoke; struggling in response to the kindness and zoning in on the mention that she had loved Phoenix; a disastrous choice of feelings for a child of a god although they were spiralling towards hatred. “And you should feel the same for me, you shouldn’t want to be here with me after what happened at the ball and you shouldn’t want to deal with this.” She slipped from the edge of the bed, abandoning her robe once her feet were planted on the ground, white chemise grazing her knees and giving only a shred of concealment. Her hands came to rest on her stomach with a step towards the window, bringing her closer to him, an acceptance that hiding herself was futile. “I won’t kick you out or scream at you to leave, I can’t make you do anything apparently, but I can tell you that you’re stupid and if you’re staying, you’re here to plan my funeral because I’m good as dead when he finds out, pretty boy.” 
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“You surely know how to make someone feel welcomed.” Theo showed her a tender smile before taking the hint, standing up to make his way to the large windows, perfect when the sun was rising. Even now, the room lit up, and the sun was no match for how she glistened the second he saw her. “The baby is his, isn’t it?” His arms clasped his wrists from behind, and he glanced down at a small family walking around the facility with a brand-new baby. Theo maintained his charming composure, anger subsiding as he thought about how she was left without a word and the man she loved was out enjoying himself, unaware of what he did. “How long were you planning to stay away?” He had no right to hold a grudge after what he did months ago, leaving her without a single letter, and he believed it to be karma. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back, and I thought about you every day. I wondered if you were eating well, sleeping well, and if you finally found an inch of happiness.” Theo respected her wishes by not looking at her; instead, he focused on the fact that this house seemed light-filled. It was peaceful, and he was glad that her time spent there wasn’t all alone with the amount of laughter that filled the hall. “If you’ll allow me, I want to be your shoulder to cry on. I’ve come to terms with my position in your life, and you will never love me the way you love him. I can’t change that about you, but I can be by your side for every minute of it.” There was an emotion Theo couldn’t understand fully, unrequited love, but he couldn’t bear to leave her even if it hurt him. Minji became meaningful to him, and everyone knew his feelings for her. “I’m sorry for coming here announced. I was simply worried about you because you vanished from my life, and I couldn’t handle the thought of never being able to see you again.” His footsteps were careful as he made his way to the window seat, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he found relief. “I finally found you.” He didn’t mind staying in the same spot for weeks, waiting for her to call out to him, and Theo found peace in his place. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stay with you for a while.”
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obi-wkenobi · 3 years ago
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1/? Okay but 5+1 fic featuring 5 times Obi wan accidentally caught anakin in a compromising position/anakin + Obi wan were in a compromising position &one time he put anakin in a (com)promising Position 😏😏😏 idk man I’m just think of scenarios like Obiwan & anakin having to hide in a really tight space &anakin’s ass is presssd against Obiwan & force help him but anakin won’t stop wriggling or Obi wan catching anakin leaving a room butt naked: “I swear master! It’s not what you think!!”
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aswdelncoijw *wails* anon!!!!! the noise i made when i found this in my inbox the other day was inhuman. this is chefs kiss, perfect, wonderful, magnificent, and exactly my type of thing. i’m more inclined to go with the second option, just because the idea of them actually being together and obi-wan’s control getting progressively less lax each time they find themselves in a compromising position makes my brain turn to static. the rising tension between them has me panting just !!!!! fuck. okay, here’s a thing:
“Dance, Anakin. Now,” Obi-Wan warns, shoving them further in amongst the press of bodies around them.
Obi-Wan rolls his hips, all slow rocking and easy thrusts that speaks of his senior Padawan years spent traversing the lower levels of Coruscant with Quinlan. His former Padawan on the other hand merely grimaces, shuffling his feet and rocking his hands from side to side, looking like a lost tooka amongst its predators.
“You’re going to get us caught,” Obi-Wan hisses, his voice harsh, having to pierce through the rhythmic thumping of the music.
Anakin glares at him, indignant. He sways harder and winces when an enthusiastic Twi’lek bumps into him. Obi-Wan forces himself to not roll his eyes, instead choosing to watch as the Iradu guards currently chasing them stand in the corner of the room. The dance floor is crammed and they shouldn’t be seen, except Anakin is as stiff as a protocol droid.
“Master,” Anakin whines, “why the kriff are we here?”
“Just dance, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snaps. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
He is aware that his voice is too severe, his demeanour too irritated, yet he can’t find it within himself to care. Not when sweat is already gathering under his shirt, dampening the line of his back and in between the crevices of his elbows and knees. Even worse is that he can smell Anakin, and he finds that he doesn’t dislike the dark scent.
“Master,” Anakin complains again, his face pinching in distress, clearly uncomfortable.
Obi-Wan gives him a look, a look that says do as I say, and watches as he attempts to move once again. He’s gangly. All elbows and knees and awkward feet, and Obi-Wan is reminded that for all of Anakin’s bravado and frequent arrogance, underneath them is a man who is mostly unsure. Sometimes Obi-Wan forgets that Anakin’s insecurities can be found in the oddest of places. He reins it in most of the time, especially when Obi-Wan himself is around, but here on this planet, shoulders hunched forward and dark eyes skittery, he looks incredibly self conscious.
The music continues to pulse and the lights continue to flicker, all crimson red, purple noir, and electric blue as a uniform of bodies roll and twist together. Anakin continues to shuffle; those insufferably tight trousers he’s wearing are undoubtedly not helping, the white mesh shirt revealing the embarrassed blush on his chest. Obi-Wan averts his gaze. This is probably good for Anakin, to get him out of his comfort zone and introduce him to missions that involve tact and don’t just include blasting his way to success.
Still, Obi-Wan consciously gentles his tone. “You took dance classes at the Temple, didn’t you? Just remember those lessons.”
Anakin scoffs. “They didn’t teach dancing like this,” he says defensively, voice strained.
Obi-Wan grits his teeth, forcing himself not to lash back. Force, but why did Anakin have to be such a brat?
“Like what?” he asks lowly, grinning as a new song starts, featuring a filthy bass that has him rolling his hips, slow and deep. 
“Like that—” Anakin growls, additional heat immediately rippling across his cheeks.
Obi-Wan curls amusement between them in the Force and peers at him in the dimness of the room, waiting for him to explain.
“Yes?” he prompts, smirking.
“Grinding,” Anakin spits out, gesturing towards Obi-Wan’s moving figure.
Obi-Wan laughs. “No, I suppose they didn’t.”
Anakin inhales, exhales, swallows thickly and looks anywhere but at Obi-Wan. He is perhaps enjoying Anakin’s unease a bit too much, but well, there is something extremely endearing about—
“Well I’m not doing it,” Anakin bites out, panic edging his voice.
Obi-Wan’s fondness is immediately replaced with vexation. He puffs out a frustrated breath and rolls his shoulders, annoyance twisting his mouth. How typical of Anakin, to snarl like an animal when placed in a situation he is unfamiliar with. He is about to reply, something calm and not at all maddened when movement in his periphery catches his eye. 
The Iradu guards are entering the crowd—
“—kriff!”
He grabs Anakin’s wrist and forcefully pulls him forward, twisting him around so that his back thumps against Obi-Wan’s chest. Anakin makes a panicked sound and flails until Obi-Wan grabs at his hips and presses them close together, something tight winding in his stomach as he moves Anakin to dance against him—to grind against him.
“What—what are you doing?!”
Obi-Wan huffs unsteadily behind his ear and whispers, “The guards are in the crowd. You need to dance with me, we can’t be caught, Anakin. You know how much trouble this will cause in the senate if it's found out that Jedi were sent here.”
Anakin makes some wounded noise that he can’t parse before nodding, and Obi-Wan lets out a relieved breath. He keeps one hand gripping at Anakin’s hip, encouraging each hesitant movement. The other moves up to Anakin’s throat, silently urging him to tilt his head back until it rests against Obi-Wan’s shoulder and ensuring that his face is hidden. Obi-Wan burrows his own head in Anakin’s neck, frowning as Anakin's Adam’s apple bobs beneath his hand and his breathing comes out shallow. 
It feels horribly intimate and for a wild moment Obi-Wan considers changing the plan, except Anakin’s hips then begin to purposefully roll against his, his—Force, his ass grinds perfectly against Obi-Wan’s groin, just like it should if they were two strangers in a club caught up in nothing but the sweaty, intoxicating heat of each other.
Obi-Wan gasps and swallows a wanton moan and meets Anakin’s thrust. They move as one, Obi-Wan tightens his hold on Anakin’s hip and Anakin digs hands into his own thighs. The intensity of it, the rocking—kark—the dragging of Anakin’s ass against him, even over his trousers, has his cock hardening.
It feels—
Arousal coils tight and hot in his gut, his breathing nothing but shaky, damp exhales against humid, golden skin. He bites at his lip, stopping himself from groaning as the throbbing of his cock becomes an ache, so hard and sticky and wet that the friction of Anakin’s repeated grinding has him almost coming in his kriffing trousers.
Obi-Wan grits his teeth and moves slower, changing his rhythm to a patient, hard roll that causes static to pulse behind his eyes. He could fuck Anakin like this, fuck him deep and relentless—
A high, loose sound comes strangled out of Anakin’s throat. It is desperate, and enough to knock sense back into Obi-Wan. He promptly creates space between himself and Anakin, ignoring the needy whine that comes from Anakin as he does so, and scans the room, seeing no signs of the Iradu guards. 
“Let’s go,” he rasps, instantly moving away and trying to keep himself from doing something ridiculous, like grabbing at his former Padawan and asking him how he wants to take it.
“Obi-Wan?”
Why does Anakin have to sound like that? All insecure and worried, needing reassurance. Obi-Wan can't deny him when he sounds like that.
Obi-Wan glances back at him, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He looks positively debauched; chest heaving, pupils blown, and cheeks bright red. Needy and hungry and aroused, so beautiful that it hurts. Strands of hair have fallen into his face, plastered to his forehead by the droplets of sweat trickling down his temple. Obi-Wan has to look away as he tries to smother down the traitorous arousal returning to boil in his stomach. He digs his nails into his forearms, biting at the skin so he won’t reach out and touch.
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin repeats, and despite the worry there, his voice still comes out grated and husky, and Obi-Wan has to blink against the sound of it.
“Anakin,” he says, a warning or a plea, he doesn’t know.
Anakin’s steps up to him, eyes dark and blown. “Did I dance well, Master?” he asks, coy.
Obi-Wan's jaw clenches and he breathes deeply, shuddering as Anakin leans in and places a hand on his thigh, too close to his still straining cock to be unintentional.
“You did,” he croaks, feeling fraught and strung taut, ready to strike. 
If possible, Anakin blushes even more so, and the moment of sincerity allows Obi-Wan to take back the reins he had let fumble from his grip.
“I sense that this is a conversation for a different time,” he says, voice both exasperated and fond.
“If you say so, Master,” Anakin pants, far too pleased with himself.
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and pushes through the crowd, knowing that Anakin is following his lead and scowls in both delight and dread as he remembers that he and Anakin must tonight share a bed.
this ran away from me and ends quite abruptly but i desperately want to see them dancing and grinding away at each other and obi-wan basically being on the verge of nutting because it’s so good
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obsidiancreates · 3 years ago
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An Honest Talk
(Got to the episode where Valerie gets the ghost hunting stuff. I just want her to be happy and not Filled With Vengeful Rage so, here's this.)
Jazz sees the whole thing.
Really, Valerie isn't even good at hiding it. As soon as that Ghost Hunter shows up at that school game, Jazz figures it out. Not just because her voice is the same, but because of the insults she shouts while hanging in that basketball hoop. Sure, Jazz is in a higher grade, but she's heard that A-Lister group plenty of times in the hallways and after school.
They're real jerks. But not murderous jerks.
So she decides to do something about it. No-one attacks her baby brother. ... Well, except other ghosts. But Jazz can't always help with those.
This? No problem.
"Hey, Valerie."
Valerie jolts, yelping and almost dropping what is clearly some kind of ghost-detecting device. "Who are- ugh, aren't you Fenton's sister? What do you want?"
"To talk to you," Jazz says in her most empathetic voice. "I noticed you're having kind of a rough time."
"Why do you care?"
"Because my brother does." Cares about not being pummeled, at least. But Jazz is sure Danny hopes the best for his schoolmate, even with the attacks.
Valerie huffs. "Great, pity from the loser kids."
"Come on, it won't hurt to talk about it?"
"Talk about what? That some ghost kid and his dog ruined my life? That we're broke, and all my friends hate me for it? yeah, talking will fix everything."
Jazz sits down on a bench, and pats the seat next to her. Valerie looks away.
But then... she sighs. And sits. "I keep thinking about that five hundred dollar shirt I ruined. Maybe if e hadn't bought that, or I hadn't worn it to school, we'd be a little better off right now."
"It's not your fault."
Valerie grits her teeth. "Yeah. It's that ghost kid's."
"Ghost kid?"
"... You believe in ghosts, right? Because of your parents?"
Jazz nods. "Plus, that thing during the school game,, Kind of hard to deny."
"Heh. Yeah. ... That dog broke into the place my dad was working for. he was showing off what he did for their security, and none of it stopped the dog or the kid. And then they showed up again at the garage sale and wrecked our moving van, and the dog stole my lunch after all my friends rejected me!"
Valerie wipes her eyes, scowling. "It's not fair!"
Jazz hands her a tissue. "It's not, not at all."
"I wanna destroy that kid," Valerie growls. "Like he destroyed me."
"... Valerie... how old is he?"
"About my age, I think."
"And he's a ghost."
"Yeah. And?"
"So... how do you think a ghost kid comes to be?"
Valerie doesn't reply. But after a moment, her eyes widen a little. "Oh... no, no, but... but he's a kid. He can't be any older than me."
"Yeah," Jazz says softly. "So something horrible must have happened to him already."
Valerie looks at the device in her hands. "... But... he still ruined my life." She sounds a bit unsure now.
"Maybe he didn't mean to. I mean... imagine one day you wake up and everything is... different. Suddenly you've got no gravity, and-and no-one can see you sometimes and you're this weird thing-"
God, how scared was Danny when it happened? She's pretty sure by now that it was The Accident that did it, she can't think of anything else that explains it. What was it like for him, waking up as something different?
"It would be tough," Jazz finishes, looking at Valerie.
Valerie still won't meet her eyes, looking at the beeping device. "Then why is he following me around?"
"... Well... does he show up first, or the dog?"
Valerie thinks for a long moment. "... The dog. It's always the dog."
"So maybe he's trying to catch it."
"... I mean, I guess that could be it. But he's been fighting me!"
"And you've been fighting him."
"But-! ... Aw, geez..." Valerie deflates. "What do I do now, then? I can't... I can't keep attacking some kid who... we've barely lived, I can't just make it so that he's barely lived twice."
Jazz stands up and offers her hand. "How about we try talking to him?"
Valerie looks at her. "For real?" She's skeptical.
Jazz nods. "For real. Maybe we can clear some things up."
Valerie turns away again. And then, with a hefty sigh...
Takes Jazz's hand.
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"Cujo?" Danny calls out. "Cujo! We need to get you back to the Ghost Zone, buddy! Come on, where is he?"
Someone clears their throat behind him, and he yelps as he shoots up in the air.
He turns around, and sees possibly the worst thing he could see right now.
His sister, and his hunter.
"Hello, Ghost Boy!" Jazz calls out.
"Um... hi." Danny waves, still looking startled.
Jazz nudges Valerie, and Valerie huffs. "Hi," she says shortly. Jazz smile at her, though.
"I'm here to mediate a talk between you two," Jazz says, walking closer (and somewhat pulling Valerie along behind her). "I figured there might be more to this story than we all three think."
"Um, you're not- I mean, I'm a ghost, you're just... casual about this?"
Jazz nods. "My parents are well-versed with ghosts, this is nothing."
A straight-up lie. Jazz hadn't even believed in ghosts until she peeled Spectra. But maybe it's to save face for Valerie? Or maybe Jazz recognizes him as the ghost from that day.
"Anyway," Jazz says, "Valerie here has something to say."
Valerie, arms cross and back hunched angrily, glares at Danny. "Who are you, and why are you out to get me?"
Danny floats back down to the ground, standing on it now. "I'm, um... Phantom-"
Valerie gives him a disbelieving look.
"Uh, Ghost Names are uh, different! It's this whole thing. And, I'm not out to get you, I swear. It's all been terrible coincidences."
Valerie scoffs.
"Val, we're here to listen," Jazz reminds gently. "Let him explain his side of things, and then you can explain yours, and we'll come to a solution. Trust me, I read a book about this."
Danny doesn't doubt it. "I don't own that dog, I found him wandering around outside. I thought he was cute at first, and then he turned into the big dog that keeps haunting you."
"And why's he doing that?" she snips.
"I don't know yet." Danny rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm trying to send him back to the Ghost Zone, but he keeps coming back out! I'm starting to think it's some cliche 'unfinished business' thing. But until I can figure it out I don't know how to get rid of him. All I can do is try to minimize the damage."
"Doing a great job." Valerie rolls her eyes. "Ruining my father's business, ruining our garage sale, ruining my lunch!"
"I swear, I was trying to help! He's really, really hard to get under control! He's like five times my size!"
"And you can't grow bigger and handle it that way?" Valerie retorts.
"No! I'm only a few months into this, I-"
He cuts himself off at the look on Valerie's face. "What?"
"A few months? ... So... so I could've known you?" Horrified, is the best word for her expression.
Danny shrinks, holding his bicep and hunching a little. "Um, nevermind. I just mean I'm not super powerful."
"No, no, we're going back. Did I know you? Is this a revenge thing?"
"What? No! I already told you, I'm trying to help prevent things from getting worse! And... no. I'm a loser kid, and you're popular."
"... Was," Valerie says quietly. "... All my friends ditched me when I lost my money."
"That's awful."
Valerie nods. "I don't know why I thought they liked me for more than money, looking back. But it still hurts. Being a lonely loser is the worst."
"Tell me about it," Danny mutters. "I mean, I have friends, but sometimes some stuff just makes you feel alone no matter what."
He thinks he sees Jazz tear up at that, but he's not sure. He's distracted by Valerie letting out a sob.
"I don't have anything left," she says, voice quavering. "I don't have the popularity, I don't have money, I don't have the grades..."
"... So you turned to revenge?" Jazz's voice is soft.
Valerie sobs again, and Jazz gives her some comforting slow pats on the back. She looks at Danny, nodding at Valerie.
Danny gets the hint. "You... you could, um, make something, more?"
Valerie gives a somewhat bitter teary chuckle. "What is that supposed to mean, huh? I'm already hunting ghosts. It's... something."
"... You could try to make new friends."
"Oh sure, that's easy. I'm a social pariah."
"So am I. But even just one or two friends helps a lot."
"You got a lot of ghost buddies?"
"... Humans, actually. An if I can make friends with some high school kids as a loser and a ghost, you can make friends too. You just might have to lower your social radar a bit."
Valerie rubs her arm. "... You're really not out to get me, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I want to protect people, not hurt them."
"... I'm sorry I shot those missiles at you."
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep the dog contained."
"... I'm sorry you're a ghost so young."
Danny snuffles a little. "... Thanks." Sometimes he is, too.
Valerie looks at her hand, and then holds it out to him. "Truce? I won't mess with you. I can't promise the same about that dog if it keeps showing up, but I won't mess with you."
Danny sighs. "So you're keeping the weapons."
"Oh, you know I am. Even if I'm not hunting you, now that I know about ghosts I want to be prepared."
"I guess I understand that." Danny shakes her hand. "Truce."
Jazz grins. "See? Just needed a real, meaningful talk!"
Valerie laughs a little, wiping her eyes again. "Yeah, I guess. But... now what? Who do I blame for this?"
"Probably the boss who decided that Ghosts Suddenly Existing was your father's fault," Danny says.
Valerie's eyes harden. "Yeah. Yeah, I can go with that."
"But," Danny and Jazz say at once. They look at each other, and Jazz let's Danny speak.
"But," Danny says again, "Maybe focus on making some more friends, first. One thing about us losers, is we don't ditch someone just for money reasons."
"... I'll give it a shot." Valerie smiles a little at Danny. "With better aim than the ones I took at you."
Danny chuckles a bit.
They both wave goodbye, Jazz and Valerie leaving Danny to continue his search.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hi."
Danny, Sam, and Tucker all look up. Valerie is standing nervously with her brown paper bag of lunch. Tucker brightens up, and Sam gives a little, slightly suspicious, wave.
Danny scoots over. "Wanna sit with us?"
Valerie looks over at the A-Lister table. They're all staring, smirking, whispering.
Mocking.
She looks back at the 'losers'.
They're looking at her with... openness.
"Yeah. Sure."
She sits down, and gets out her lunch. For a minute, she just listens to them talk while she unpacks the sandwich.
"Hey, is that peanut butter and honey?" Sam asks. Valerie nods.
Sam holds up a thick roast beef sandwich. "My parents are trying to get me to eat meat again, but I'm staying vegetarian. Want to trade?"
Valerie blinks. "Uh... sure?"
They swap sandwiches. Valerie looks at the sandwich, mentally trying to figure out the carbs and calories and fat content-
She looks around the table. No-one else is analyzing their food. Or, judging hers.
She takes a bite. It's pretty good.
This... is pretty good.
She smiles, and laughs a little at a joke Danny makes.
Yeah. This is pretty good.
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t3kandson · 2 years ago
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Friendly Fuckery
Wordcount; 2,261
Fandom; The Boyz
Pairing; Reader X Choi Chanhee (other members in later Chapters)
Characters; Choi Chanhee, Ji Changmin and mentions of the Boyz without direct names.
Warnings; angst, fingering, Mentions of Police, Alcohol consumption and multiple partners.
Notes. Happy Anniversary Debois ❤️❤️❤️❤️ will be posting every day for the next 11 days. There will also be a bonus Chapter on 22nd for Eric’s birthday 💗🦄. Rest of Learning Love Chapters here.
Taglist; @ilovechanhee
You stood feeling uncomfortable with the strangers crowding the living room space. It was a sight that things had changed, his new group of friends all being boisterous in the corner while you and his old friends hugged together in the rowdy room. Your eyes roaming the boys, the only familiarity was your best friend Choi Chanhee.
His blue hair he had styled for his birthday, his youthful feminine features had you take a breath from his beauty. As you was admiring Chanhee, confused about the reasons to why you was viewing him slightly differently, you was startled when a pair of hands heavily landed on your shoulder.
The chuckle in their mischievousness had you grit your teeth in the direction of yours and Chanhee’s college friend, Ji Changmin.
His hair all crimped in curls and his wide grin washed over you. “What the fuck Changmin,” you scoffed as he sat on the side of the chair next to you. “You know your at a party right,” he said pulling you towards him. “Yes, yes I do,” you said rolling your eyes as Chanhee made his way towards you from his other friends. “Then why don’t you join the party rather then this library meeting,” he teased letting his hands roll alongside you and your four other friends. “Why you all hiding away?” Chanhee asked arms folded as he reached you. His nagging voice had you usually roll your eyes, but you suddenly became aware of the attraction to your best friend that had hit you from no where.
“Well it’s not really our kind of party,” Your friend Channa said rolling her glasses to her nose to scoff. “Well it needs to be, so come meet the guys,” Changmin scowled in her direction. “Boys, you know this is the no Boy zone right,” you teased chuckling. “On my birthday it isn’t,” Chanhee said grabbing your wrist and pulling you up as Changmin went to grab the others.
Chanhee brought you over to meet the guys. There eyes all washing over you made you nervous with anxiety hitting you, making sure that your eyes rarely left the view of Chanhee or Changmin. Some of them tried to encourage you to engage with them but your fears had you step away from the group, it was far too much being the opposite of social. You was almost relieved when someone called the cops and the party went on to the clubs. The excuse of your missing ID gave you the excuse to leave to the comfort of your bedroom.
You bailed on my birthday don’t let that happen again.
Was the message you woke up to from Chanhee. You rolled your eyes as you typed back
Ok mum.
Rolling out of bed you made your way to the kitchen when you saw the blue haired boy himself, his arms folded glaring your way.
“What are you doing here?” you gasped startled by his early appearance home.
“Mum!” he growled in your direction that you almost laughed at how high pitched he sounded. Continuing towards him chuckling, you shook your head and made your way to the cereal boxes. “Ok Mum, what you doing here,” you teased as you poured the cereal into the bowl. “I lived here last time I checked,” Chanhee said giving up his nagging for a mere minute to sip his green tea.
“So was it a good night then?” you asked as you placed a spoonful in your mouth. “It was really good, quite a lot of fun actually,” he said with a devilish smirk, that almost made you choke as you twisted your face in disgust. “I knew those Boyz was bad for you,” you scoffed. Chanhee raised his eyebrow, “No those boys that you refuse to get to know had nothing to do with that, it’s called being a grown up,” he said taking another sip. “Your an adult for a day and you decided to be a fuck boy,” you said sounding disgusted. “Your just jealous that I’m getting it and your not,” he snorted placing his cup on the table and made his way to his room. His words leaving some what of a stir in your stomach.
You stepped into the living room from your shift at the local shop. The room looking like a bomb had hit it, Chanhee wincing on the sofa clearly hungover. “Really Chanhee?” you moaned grabbing up the instant ramen bowl from the coffee table with his several orange juice containers. “Don’t shout my head really hurts,” Chanhee whined into the air. Grabbing the paracetamol from the kitchen cupboard, you poured a glass of water and made your way to him. “Here take this,” you said sitting down next to him as he opened one eye to grimace at you. His eye locking with yours felt as if it stunned you as you lost your words. A subtle cough emerged as Chanhee’s hand hovered over the glass you still hadn’t released to him.
“Y/N stop staring me out with fuck me eyes and let me have the water,” Chanhee whispered. You blushed passing him the glass making your way to your room. What was with you, you had known Chanhee since you was five, he was your best friend. Why suddenly was your thoughts being flooded by him?
Chanhee tapped your bedroom door hours later, as he walked in suddenly looking fresh. “You haven’t eaten,” he asked worried as he sat on your bed by your side as you listened to the music. “I’m ok,” you replied loud due to music flowing into your ear.
He shook his head popping out your ear pods, “you need to eat Y/N,” he moaned as your hands fought with his for your pods back. “Seriously Chanhee I’m fine,” you scoffed.
He put his head into the crook of your neck avoiding your attempt of his tight grip around your belongings. Lips resting along the skin, his warm breath fanning leaving a tingling sensation. Goosebumps flowing down your neck as you yeeted yourself back from him, eyes widening watching his grin at your reaction.
“What’s up Y/N?” He chuckled, “nothing, what are you cooking me?” you replied changing the conversation. “Well I thought now my headache passed,”, “hangover,” you cut him off to his glare. “Whatever, I thought maybe a takeaway and movie night,” he finished. “Oh you dumping your friends tonight then?” you scoffed. “Just because your jealous of them don’t go hating on them,” he said standing up. “I don’t hate them I’m just bored hearing about how amazing they are,” you said rolling your eyes as you sat at the end of your bed. “There only boring to you because you won’t take the time to get to know them,” Chanhee said folding his arms.
“I know Changmin and he’s boring,” you lied. “Oh I tell him that shall I,” Chanhee threatened with a eye raised. You stood up to him, “no don’t he would,”, “bite you in places you’d never imagined,” Chanhee cut in with a hint of mischievous in him. “Eww no, he’s my friend and Changmin’s not like that,” you scoffed scrunching up your face.
“Y/N baby we’re not kids anymore, we’re both like that,” Chanhee said with a wink as he made his way out your room. You sat at the end of the bed trying to stop your thoughts of Chanhee and Changmin suddenly biting your neck, your arousal hitting fire on your body.
The credits rolled on the screen as Chanhee rolled to the side of the sofa turning the lamp on for some sudden light. “Well that film was,”, “interesting,” you added for him. “No I was going to say hot,” Chanhee gasped hugging tighter around his pillow. You gasped in his eyeshot. “What? Y/N you really need to stop being such a prune, enjoy life, be Minhae, enjoy a spicy sex life,” Chanhee said swigging his beer. “What and become a Ho, no thanks I wait for a decent guy to snap me up,” you scoffed stealing his beer to take a swig. His eyes watching you with a look you never witnessed before.
“Its the 21st century love, relationship’s are so yesterday, tomorrow it’s all about fun,” he said snatching his beer back. “How many you slept with? you sound like a Ho yourself,” you scoffed pulling your legs up to tuck under you. “Ten I think,” he said taking another swig, “what the fuck Chanhee, Why so many?” You choked. “What about you?” he asked ignoring your question. “None I’m happily a virgin,” you replied proudly. “Really?,” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is that why you keep giving me those fuck me eyes,” Chanhee said taking another mouthful of beer.
Your body freezing to his words, “Chanhee what the fuck no I don’t,” you scoffed. He pulled his face closer, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip. Closing your eyes momentarily, you let a gentle hum leave your lips before he showed his thumb to you with a chocolate smear. “Missed your mouth,” he said placing the thumb into his sucking it. Your eyes widened as your body flushed a dark shade of pink ashamed with thoughts that he was about to kiss you.
He smirked at you as if he knew what you was thinking. “If you want a kiss you should have asked,” he chuckled. “Why would you want to kiss me?” you said, his eyes widened to your comment for a few seconds before pressing his lips into you. His lips was soft and his kiss was gentle as his tongue slipped in. Time evaporated as you sat there kissing, enjoying exploring your best friends mouth.
“We should stop this before we get carried away,” Chanhee said pulling away from you. “Huh?” you panted confused at his sudden change of direction. “We’ll only fuck and fall in love and I’m too young for that,” Chanhee said. “However much I want to have that pussy,” he said brushing his hand down your clothed crutch. “Then fuck me, I don’t want a relationship neither,” you said without thinking.
“Your my best friend I don’t want to lose you, plus your a virgin I can’t just fuck you today, your first time like this,” he said looking around the room. “Then train me, what are best friends for,” you said removing the pillow from him which was covering a large bulge. Your hands fell to stroke the outline alongside his pants. “Fuck Y/N,” he growled closing his eyes as you stroked him. “Fine,” he said, his eyes snapping as he got off the sofa taking your hand to take you to your room.
“Right hand over your heart no romance, no feeling, I’m just your teacher right?” He said watching your hand press over your chest, “promise,” you whispered.
His hands cupped your face, his dark eyes swallowing yours. Pushing you to the bed catching your head as you fell in a lump, had your heart thundering. Body curving between your legs his clothed bulge hit your throbbing nub. His lips found there way back to yours, as his hands brushed your naked thighs right up the bottom of your dress to your clothed crutch. Fingers playing with the lace of your knickers while his other hand cupped your clothed breast. Brushing your sensitive nub he made your body jolt at the touch.
“Oh your so sensitive, this is nothing yet,” he said with a wink as his fingers pushed your pants to the other side. His bare flesh touching you rolled 8 into your nub, your body buckling as moans hit. “Oh Y/N, training you is going to be so much fun,” he said as he slipped a finger into your core slowly as you gritted your teeth to this new unusual feeling. Pumping himself in and out slowly at first your walls was so tight that they was squeezing around him.
“Y/N relax,” he said soothingly as he picked a speed,” relax and let my fingers take you to heaven,” he whispered. Relaxing to his words letting the speed increase, the feeling of his digit sliding up against your walls became Pleasurable. When he was sure you was ready a second digit joined, the feeling of being stretched caused your walls to tighten again as your nails gripped into his shoulder.
“Baby relax,” he repeated, his thumb finding your clit as the new feeling helped heighten your pleasure as he curved them hitting your sweet spot. “Oh fuck that feels so good,” you moaned out as he picked his speed up. You felt your stomach warm as you felt a burning sensation flow up your core making your body begin to feel tingling.
“I feel weird,” you cried, “baby that’s because your about to orgasm,” he chuckled. “Let your self go, lose your self to the feeling of my fingers fucking you,” he cooed. Your hands pulled on the bed sheets as your body shook from the excitement. Walls clamped around his fingers, moans flowing into the air as you went crashing into your first ever orgasm. Your body convulsing to the fingers Chanhee still was fucking into you as you came down from your high, as your body went limp.
Chanhee removed his fingers sucking the juices off seductively looking at you with pride in his eyes. “You did so well baby,” he coo’d as the door flew open to Changmin’s shocked face. “What the fuck are you two doing?” He scoffed into the air.
Next Chapter
Masterlist
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writemekpop · 4 years ago
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Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong
Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...
Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU 
Word Count: 1.8k
Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship 
Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2
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Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.” 
Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.
His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction. 
You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it. 
Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades. 
“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.
The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy. 
When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them. 
Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone. 
You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake. 
Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside. 
Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it. 
Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right? 
Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.  
“W-wait,” you croaked. 
You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist. 
He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you. 
He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that. 
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 
You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave. 
But you didn’t feel him get off the bed. 
Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine. 
Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.
You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.
Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.  
“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.
So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.
---
Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying. 
You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it. 
Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram. 
Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery. 
You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway? 
Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.  
---
The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.
You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.  
Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.
Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned. 
It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’. 
You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?” 
Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.” 
You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin. 
“Ah… it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing. 
“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled. 
Of course. You should’ve seen this coming. 
There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted. 
“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper. 
Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already. 
“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck. 
When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them. 
“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.” 
A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile. 
Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him. 
----
A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment. 
All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you. 
You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing. 
To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist. 
But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing. 
Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part. 
“Taeyong?” 
Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on. 
But they were all empty. 
Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined. 
Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:
“Really? My god.” 
Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong. 
You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks. 
“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking. 
There was a pause as they all laughed. 
Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying. 
Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!” 
Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe. 
“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming. 
Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.  
But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.” 
That was it. 
You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.
Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed. 
It had finally happened. 
Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was. 
Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up. 
Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls. 
After all, you’d do anything to keep him. 
Anything.  
Read Part 2 here.
---
MASTERLIST
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deluluass · 4 years ago
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Then, the dam breaks.
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Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization
Kuroo's not a bad person. 
Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.
Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.  
No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor. 
Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology. 
And he means it. (Occasionally.)
There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.
There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same. 
So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you. 
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There wasn't much of an option to begin with.
Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.
Then a flyer was handed out to you.
"V-volley," the boy trailed off. 
Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands. 
He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria. 
"You...want me to join?" 
You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway. 
A soft grumble left you. 
"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."
You were the volleyball team's manager since then. 
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"She's not much of a talker."
Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.
It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.
" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze. 
Someone was talking to you. 
Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.
Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench. 
"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."
And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued. 
Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others. 
"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself. 
How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail. 
What he does remember was the first day.
Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.  
He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.
("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)
(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)
It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are. 
Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.
Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.
(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)
His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. 
Water . Water was what he needed. 
Right. 
You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.
He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.
"Say," Kuroo began.  
You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself. 
"Mind telling me what was that about?"
You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo. 
The attention hits him like a freight train. 
That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright. 
It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him. 
(Just for him.)
"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."
"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again. 
Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.
"Got a test coming up?"
"Cram school. He's in the same class."
Of course .
"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."
Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity. 
He sighed.
"Nothing too bad, I hope."  
The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted. 
From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.
Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.
He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel. 
Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it. 
Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.
Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.
Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping. 
Oh.
"Oh," Kuroo whispered.
Oh .
"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."
And it did snap.
"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on. 
You were leaving.
Kuroo stood up.
"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"
"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."
There it is. You were meeting his gaze again. 
" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none. 
Your arms are trembling and you look  uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good. 
"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."
He raised both his arms in a show of defeat. 
"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."
Kuroo shrugged a shoulder. 
"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously." 
Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then." 
That made you stop in your tracks. 
"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.
Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.
"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away." 
"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination. 
"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.
You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.
Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart. 
First, the disbelief. 
Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this? 
So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?
Then—
Then, the dam breaks.
Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.  
Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.
That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.
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You're not a good person.
Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.
You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean. 
It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.
So you take it. 
Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness. 
But that's neither here nor there.
The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.
(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)
It was a bad day. 
You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do. 
And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it. 
He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing. 
"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)
It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.
But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked. 
He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you. 
That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)
So it blindsided you, to say the least. 
The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did. 
When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.
(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.) 
This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs. 
But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things. 
(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)
Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.
You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut. 
"I have to go," you murmured.
It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.
You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears. 
You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor. 
The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.
Except for silence. 
The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind. 
All you needed was silence.
Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.
Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales  soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —
"There you are."
You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless. 
The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile. 
Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.   
"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."
"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please." 
You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?
"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later." 
It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.
"C-captain..!"
He was right there. 
Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours. 
Your legs shot upwards. 
"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.
"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.
He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him? 
And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.
"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"
Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."
Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really? 
(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)
"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."
(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)
"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."
He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way. 
Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—
"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .
He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze. 
And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.
The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness. 
"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."
You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks. 
"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."
He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die. 
"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"
You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."
No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening. 
"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around. 
And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.   
You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.
"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.
He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.
You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly. 
All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants. 
"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.
He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."
After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle. 
"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit. 
It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.
"You like it, hm?" 
Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.  
"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.
"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."
"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."
As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that . 
"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole. 
You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.
(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.) 
For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises). 
He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.
That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.
"Don't scream," he whispered. 
Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth. 
You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.
The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.
They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong. 
You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong. 
"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."
He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.
"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."
"So cry all you want."
802 notes · View notes
hispipsqueak · 4 years ago
Text
A Workplace Affair
Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader - NSFW
Summary: As the new tour guide at the Sendai Museum and presenter of their space exhibit, you have to work closely with the head of the dinosaur exhibit. Can you and Tsukishima learn to put aside your differences or are you going to have to work things out a different way?
Word Count: 3781
A/N: AHHHH. I put my soul into this piece I swear. As you know, Tsukishima is the absolute love of my life and I actually based this piece on this lovely commission from @/novaasoph on Instagram! I spent so long looking up dinosaur facts and the dress in the picture and story is actually a dress I own. Yes this is EXTREMELY self-indulgent, but I tried to make it as inclusive as possible because WE ALL NEED TO BE RAILED BY TSUKISHIMA IN A CLOSET OKAY?? As always likes and reblogs are hella appreciated 💕
TW: unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, slight public sex, oral sex (m receiving), workplace sex, my simping for Kei is v apparent
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Here you were, a fresh-faced college graduate. After years of grueling nights spent studying and pulling all nighters to reach your goals, you had finally landed the job of your dreams working for the Sendai museum. The museum had hired you for their new Space exhibit and you would be one of their lead tour guides. The man who hired you, your new boss technically, had been desperate. The museum was preparing for an onslaught of tours now that the space exhibit was open. As Mr. Hashimoto excitedly explained, “Kids love space and dinosaurs and we finally got them both! Now we just need a good tour guide!” Mr. Hashimoto was an older grandfatherly type man, with large glasses, and a bushy grey mustache. Immediately you felt comfortable and warm from his friendliness.
He led you through a short tour of the museum, finally stopping at the last and largest exhibit, a cheery green sign declaring it the “Dinosaur Zone!”. You were in awe over the large T.Rex skeleton in the center of the room. 
“It’s beautiful!” You excitedly turned to Mr. Hashimoto.
He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling. 
“It really is, isn’t it? One of our prized displays. And of course, here comes the man of the hour.” He gestured toward a tall man walking towards the two of you.
The man was tall, at least 6 feet. His hair was blonde with a slight curl near his ears. He wore black half-rim glasses and his eyes were a bright golden hue. You could tell through his suit he was toned and muscular. His white button up was fitted very well against his broad chest and you felt your body heat up. Whoever this man of the hour was, he was HOT.
And the hot guy was staring at you, clearly annoyed.
“Miss Y/N, this is Mr. Kei Tsukishima, the “Dino Man”, if you will. He used to run the tours on this end, and now works more on the exhibit handling. If you need to know anything about this area, he will be your go-to!” Mr. Hashimoto chuckled. 
You extended your hand happily and after a beat, Tsukishima shook your hand. His hand engulfed yours in size and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
“Since you are new here, Tsukishima will be assisting you on running the tours, at least in this area. You two will be spending a lot of time together, so I suggest getting to know each other well!” He clapped you both on the shoulder and walked away. You saw Tsukishima stiffen and you were slightly disappointed when he began heading back toward his office, leaving you alone.
“Um, Tsukishima!” You called out, your voice echoing in the empty room. The blonde turned back, an eyebrow raised. You waited for him to respond but when he was silent, you spoke again.
“Uh...I look forward to working with you!” You smiled. He stared at you blankly and gave the briefest nod, before turning back around and walking away.
Well...that was...terrible.
Feeling dejected, you headed back to grab your bag and head home. You heard a door close in the distance. What you didn’t see was Kei with his back pressed against it, face red with a blush.
---
“As you can see here, these guys were pretty ferocious. I mean look at how big they were!” You stretched your arms out exaggeratedly, earning a loud laugh from the children you were currently leading on a tour. A few of the kids also started stretching their arms, growling at each other and laughing. You smiled, before hearing Tsukishima clear his throat.
“Well...ferocious if you were a tree. That’s an Aralosaurus. They were herbivores. Meaning they only ate plants.” Tsukishima gave you a pointed look, the ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips. You could feel your face heat up and turned around to face the children.
“Either way, it’s a pretty scary guy, I think!” You said smiling at the kids. You were determined to not lose your cool in front of the group you were leading. 
“Actually, they were pretty docile creatures. They used this bulge to blow air out and scare predators away, but they weren’t a ‘scary guy’ as you so eloquently put it”. Tsukishima interjected.
You could feel your eyes about to roll back into your skull and you forced your smile to remain cheerful. 
“Thank you so much for the information, Mr. Tsukishima. Or as we call him around here, Dino Boy!” You gave a fake laugh, feeling satisfied at the little crease appearing between his eyebrows as he gritted his teeth. You directed the children to the interactive sandbox where they could dig for plastic fossils. As the kids excitedly grabbed their buckets and shovels, you took a much needed mental break. Your exhibit was last, as the kids needed to burn out their excitement before the planetarium show and the dino exhibit usually tuckered them out well enough.
Lost in thought, you didn’t hear Tsukishima walk toward you. He stopped right next to you, his shoulder practically touching yours.
“Dino boy, really? That’s what we are going with today?” he muttered as the two of you watched the kids dig in the sandbox. You smirked and turned to face him.
“At least I don’t spend all day correcting people.” 
“Well if you actually researched anything for your job instead of acting like a child, I wouldn’t have to correct you.” He looked at you with a withering stare. You felt yourself crumble inside. Tsukishima’s gaze could kill a man, but fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.
The two of you held similar arguments every day. Whether it was an incorrect fact, going down the wrong “order” of displays, heck even the way you wore your badge, Tsukishima was there with a snide comment and you were sick of it.
“So I don’t know every little thing to know about dinosaurs. There are better ways to correct people you know!” You let out a short huff, before turning your head to walk back to the group. You could feel his gaze on you and you held your head high as you led the children to the space exhibit. As you began to talk about the galaxies, out of the corner of your eye you saw Tsukishima walk into the room and find a seat near the back.
Curious, as he usually didn’t interact with you outside of annoying corrections in the dinosaur exhibit. You chose to ignore him and kept talking, getting more excited as you explained the Milky Way galaxy and described the show you would put on for the tour group. You started the exhibit and sat down in your usual seat, which happened to be next to Tsukishima. 
As the lights dimmed and the stars began to display on the arched ceiling, you could feel how close you actually were to Tsukishima. Your arms were nearly touching and you became very aware of how your heartbeat began to race. You attempted to focus on the program, as the built in narrator discussed the difference between the planets. You turned to sneak a look at the man next to you and found him already looking back at you. Your breath caught in your throat. His expression was unreadable but he didn’t look angry. His honey colored eyes were fixated on you and you felt your body tremble.
Before you could process what any of this meant, the narration stopped and you jumped up. 
“As the video discussed, the planets fall into multiple categories! The cool thing about that is that even though we perceive them as something solid and perfectly round similar to basketballs, some of them are gas giants...”
You continued on, feeling only slightly disappointed as you watched Tsukishima sneak back out the door.
-----
“Are you kidding me, Tsukishima?” you shouted. You were standing in the break room, hands on your hips. He was standing in front of you a white mug in his hand, with his eyebrow raised.
“What are you even talking about?” He looked almost bored with the whole interaction as he poured coffee into his cup.
“Somehow all of my mugs are on the tallest shelf. The shelf only YOU can reach.” You glared at him.
He placed his mug down on the countertop and turned to you, lazily.
“Why on earth would I do that?” His eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed his face. 
You crossed your arms. 
“I don’t know, because you are just a giant bully?” Your eyes lowered and before he could react you grabbed his cup of coffee and stalked off. 
-----
“What is the matter with you?!” Tsukishima yelled from his office, his voice echoing in the empty exhibit hall. The next tour wasn’t for a couple of hours.
You gently placed the box of files you were carrying on the cart in front of you. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?” You looked up at him with false innocence in your eyes. 
“Why are all my pens now pink sparkle gel pens???!” He shouted at you, a fluffy topped pink pen in his hand.
Your eyes widened in mock surprise. 
“Now Tsukki, why on Earth would I do that?” You turned to push the cart and ran right into Mr. Hashimoto, who cleared his throat, smiling at the two of you.
“Now I am always one for inter-office tomfoolery, but the two of you are going a little overboard. So unless morale improves around here, I may have to take drastic action.” He kept the smile on his face but there was a warning look in his eyes. You both gulped. 
“Sorry, Mr. Hashimoto. This will never happen again.” Tsukishima was the first to speak. You bowed your head in agreement and Hashimoto, satisfied with your responses, walked away. You turned to walk away back to your cart before Tsukishima grabbed you by the wrist, and dragged you into a tiny storage room.
“Look, I know you despise me but I am not going to lose my job to some little girl in a stupid dress.” He hissed at you.
You looked down at your dress. It was dark blue with galaxies and planets patterned all over, quite fitting for your job actually. 
“Shut up, dino boy. My dress isn’t stupid! And I am not going to lose my job to some mean schoolyard bully.” You raised your hand to flick his forehead, and he grabbed your wrist, pushing you against the wall.
“You need to learn some manners, little girl.” His voice dropped to a dangerously low whisper, and the two of you glared at each other. He was so close to you, his chest nearly touching yours and you felt your blush creep up as his brilliant eyes pierced into you.
You felt the heat pool between your legs and you squeezed your thighs together. The shadow of a smile passed over his face.
“Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now.” He said, letting out a soft mocking laugh. You gritted your teeth.
“Of course not, asshole. You’re the one who dragged me into a closet and are now pressing yourself against me, perv.” You spat back.
The sound of voices interrupted your argument and Tsukishima quickly clapped a hand over your mouth. The two of you being caught in this position regardless of the reason would be a terrible look for both of you. Your eyes widened and you held your breath until the voices outside the door faded away.
He slowly pulled his hand away and the two of you looked at each other. Before either of you could think, his lips were against yours, pressing you into the wall of the storage room.
His hand cupped your face as he deepened the kiss and you fell back, letting him take charge. He tasted like peppermint tea and citrus and you felt dizzy from the overwhelming sensations. You wrapped your arms around him, running your fingers through the curly hair behind his ears, gently tugging to pull him closer towards you. 
He let out a low groan into your mouth, and you nibbled on his lower lip. He had one hand tangled in your hair and the other was making its way down your body, pulling down the strap of your dress. His kisses moved lower, soft lips pressing down your neck. He sucked a mark into your skin, grazing his teeth over the spot before soothing it with his tongue. You closed your eyes, arching your back away from the wall.
“Fuck...you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” He whispered into your skin, before kissing your collarbone. Your skin intoxicated him and he needed more of you in every way.
You breathed out a sigh, “Could have fooled me.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, gazing into your eyes.
“You’re annoying, childish, ridiculous, absolutely over-the-top stubborn. And fucking gorgeous. You don’t know shit about dinosaurs, and yet you can make dead stars seem like the most interesting thing in the universe. You captivate the room when you walk through the door and I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”
This time it was you who kissed him, your tongues exploring each other's mouths. His hand slipped under your lab coat and tugged slightly on the zipper of your dress, waiting for confirmation. You moaned into his mouth and he dragged the zipper down slowly, his fingertips brushing your spine. You slid your hand to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. You could feel the muscles and ran your fingers over his abs, chiseled from years of athleticism.
He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, as you let your dress pool to the floor. His eyes roamed your body, wanting to claim every inch of it as his. You were ethereal and Tsukishima had the urge to worship all of you. 
You looked up at him, eyes shining brightly even in the dimly lit room.  He placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his.
“Stunning.”
You giggled, and pressed a kiss to his neck, leaving a mark from your lipstick. He leaned back against the wall as you kissed down his chest, leaving a trail of cherry red over his porcelain skin. Soon you were on your knees, running your fingers over his soft happy trail before undoing his belt. Slowly, you slid down his slacks, noticing the dark stain of precum on his navy boxers. You pressed a kiss on each side of his abs, in the indentations of his V line. You ran your nails over the head of his erection, teasing him. He let out a soft hiss and you grinned. Perhaps another time, you would have spent all day teasing him, his whimpers like music to your ears.
But today, you were in a time crunch.
Using two fingers, you tugged down the elastic waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock.
It was beautiful, just like the man it belonged to. Long and slender, with the prettiest pink tip, dotted with a slick bead of precome. 
You gave kitten licks to the tip, savoring his taste. Tsukishima threw his head back biting his lip. He needed more of your mouth and you were oh so happy to please.
Taking his length in your mouth, you deepthroated him, pressing your nose to the base, and felt the soft curly blond hairs tickle your skin.
Tsukishima's eyes rolled back as you began to suck him down, your throat clenching around his cock. His hands gripped your hair almost painfully, though it only added to your excitement.
You bobbed on his cock, pulling it nearly all the way out of your warm mouth before forcing it back down your throat. Swirling your tongue around the head with each thrust. You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears.
"Fuck you look so beautiful wrapped around my cock like that. I just wanna ruin you, pretty girl."
He started face-fucking you, slowly at first but when he felt no resistance from you, he began to speed up. His fingers grasped your hair, forcing his cock deeper down your throat with each thrust. Your tears fell freely now and you could see red smears of your lipstick decorating his shaft.
You moaned around him, your face wet with spit and tears and you could only imagine how wrecked you looked. Tsukishima let out a string of curses under his breath, jerking his hips upward to meet your mouth.
"Shit, fuck, just like that, baby. Fuck yes just like that…fuck gonna cum, gonna cum…" His eyes were screwed shut and you could see the blush enveloping his face, small drops of sweat running down. You forced yourself to take him as deep as possible, gagging on his cock.
With a loud moan, Tsukishima exploded inside your mouth. You could feel the hot ropes of cum sliding down your throat and you whimpered as you swallowed all of him down. 
You finally released him from your lips, strings of saliva connecting you to his cock. He pulled you up, pressing a kiss to you. 
"Fuck that was incredible." He whispered, wiping the smeared mess off your face. You felt something poking your thigh and realized he was still hard.
He looked at you and chuckled.
"Yeah turns out being an athlete gives you stamina." he said teasingly before pushing you up against the wall. “Don’t tell me you think I’m done with you yet.”
His fingers slid down your body, roughly tugging down your bra. He buried his face in your chest, biting and sucking on your tits, grazing over the hardened buds with his teeth. While he busied his mouth, his hands continued down, circling the wetness on your panties.
“You want this, pretty girl? You this wet for me?”  he whispered, before easing a finger into your soaking hole. You threw your head back. His fingers were long and slender and hit the deepest parts of you. He began to roll his thumb over your clit softly, listening to your quiet moans. He pressed another finger inside you, fucking you on them in preparation for his cock. Your arousal dripped down his wrist and his mouth watered thinking of your taste. Soon, he wanted to bury himself between your thighs, making you cream on his tongue over and over. But that would have to wait.
“Fuck...Tsukishima...I need, I need your cock. Please, please, please.” you panted, almost like a prayer.
“Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who’s cock you need. Do that for me baby.” He grinned, working a third finger into you.
“Fuck...Kei...please, please Kei. Fuck me. Need your cock, Kei.” You pleaded, your body ablaze with your imminent high.
“Such a good girl.” He smirked, before pulling his fingers out abruptly. You whined as you clenched around nothing, but not for long as he pressed his cock to your entrance.
“Look at me.” He demanded. You looked up at him. Your hair and makeup were ruined, your eyes lidded with desire. Your lips were puffy and parted, whimpers of his name falling from your lips like a mantra as you begged for him. You were so goddamn beautiful.
He gripped your thighs, spreading you open, and slammed himself inside you. You swore you could feel the walls behind you shake. He pistoned his cock in and out of you, each thrust hitting deeper spots. You felt like you were breaking in half and coming together at the same time. 
“Fuck Kei!!! Feels so fucking good.” You cried into his neck. You could taste the sweat on his skin as he gave all of himself to you.
“So tight, pretty girl. So fucking tight. God you’re so fucking perfect.” He panted into your hair, as he dug his fingertips into your plush thighs. 
Your eyes rolled back, stars dancing in your vision. Your cunt clamped down around him, squeezing around his cock tightly. His balls slapped against your ass as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you. You were rapidly approaching your climax, each thrust taking you higher and higher.
Kei bit down on your shoulder, his movements sloppier as he neared his own release. You could feel his body tense, his shoulder muscles flexing under your fingers. 
“Cum with me, please y/n. Please pretty girl, cum with me.” He groaned into your ear, and his voice sent you over the edge.
“Oh god, fuck….Kei!” You screamed, and he quickly swallowed your shouts with a kiss. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, unloading streams of cum as your pussy milked every last drop from him. Your combined juices coated the tops of your thighs and you held each other for dear life, both of you gasping for air.
Your legs threatened to give out underneath you and he held you closer, pressing soft kisses to your hair, whispering inaudible words of praise. Your body melted in his touch and the two of you stood there for what felt like hours, but must have only been minutes.
Your phone chimed from the pocket of your labcoat, drawing the both of you from your post-coital haze.
“Shit, tour in twenty minutes.” The two of you scrambled to get dressed and you checked your face in your phone camera.
“Fuck I can’t give a tour looking like this!” You panicked, wiping furiously at your face. Tsukishima laughed, before producing a box of tissues from a shelf behind you. 
“I’ll grab some water, though I must say it’s a damn shame since you look so beautifully fucked out.” He teased, before adjusting his tie and walking out. He returned quickly with a water bottle  and you attempted to make yourself somewhat presentable, to his sarcastic yet sweet commentary.
As the two of you prepared to leave the room, he glanced down at you. 
“So, dinner tonight?”
You grinned. 
“Sure Dino Boy.”
-------
Bonus:
The two of you left the room as nonchalantly as possible, though still a little disheveled from dressing in a dark closet. A booming voice rang out.
“There you two are! Your tour is just about to start, Y/N!” Mr. Hashimoto motioned for you to head to greet the group. As you walked away (and Kei attempted to not stare at your ass), Mr. Hashimoto turned to Kei.
“You know, Mr. Tsukishima. Red is quite a good look for you.” 
467 notes · View notes
katsukavi · 4 years ago
Text
"OH SHIT!" part 2
"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."
Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.
"(M/n)! Stab me!"
"HELL NO!"
"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"
"Fine. I'll stab myself."
"No!"
The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.
"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."
"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."
Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.
"How did you even conceive this child?"
"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."
"I see. It must've been a heat."
"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."
"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"
"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.
It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.
[The Orion System is extremely happy!]
[☆*:.。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆]
[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]
[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]
"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."
"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."
[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]
[Yay! Baby! \\\\٩( ^ω^ )و ////]
'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.
That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.
[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]
[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω`*)]
[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]
'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."
"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"
"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.
"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."
"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"
"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."
"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"
"I'm pregnant."
Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"
"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"
"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?
"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"
"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"
(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.
[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]
[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]
"He's the father of my child."
Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?
Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?
Then all those times they left together..
"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"
"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."
'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'
"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"
"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."
"What?"
"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"
"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."
[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]
[Calm down, host!! \\\٩(๑'^'๑)۶////]
(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.
"I'll see you then."
Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.
"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"
"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.
As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."
"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"
"It doesn't taste good."
"It tastes just fine, get over here!"
Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'
The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.
'I haven't even done half yet?'
[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]
[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]
Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.
["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]
"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.
[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! \(٥⁀▽⁀ )/]]
FWOOSHHH!!
On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.
"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"
"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.
[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ロ ')]]
[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]
Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.
"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.
"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"
[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]
[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]
"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.
[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! \(º □ º l|l)/]]
"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.
[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! \(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]
"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.
"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.
"I was a little offended, you know."
[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]
[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]
"Orion, shut up."
[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]
[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]
[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]
The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..
But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.
But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?
"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.
As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.
[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]
"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.
[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]
[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]
[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]
"Oh nice. This is your room?"
"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.
"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.
"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."
"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.
(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.
"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."
"You can use Google Maps."
"I don't bring my phone everywhere."
"You don't? I thought you were an addict."
"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.
"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."
"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].
"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"
Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'
Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."
(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.
"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."
"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.
"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.
"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."
[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]
[(¬‿¬ )]
Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."
(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?
But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?
"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"
"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"
"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.
"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"
"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"
(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.
It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.
"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"
"I didn't—"
"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.
His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.
"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."
"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"
"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."
"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"
[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]
"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.
"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"
"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.
"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"
"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.
"No.. That's not.."
"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!
But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!
"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"
Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.
"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"
"Who?!"
"The author!"
(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)
"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.
He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?
"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."
"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.
"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.
Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?
He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.
"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.
"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."
"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.
(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.
"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"
"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"
"Yeah."
"He suits it well, right?"
"Yeah."
"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"
"I agree."
Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).
"Yeah."
"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"
'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.
"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"
"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"
"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"
"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.
"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."
"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"
"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.
In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"
"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."
"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"
"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?
"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."
Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!
(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.
[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]
[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]
Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.
276 notes · View notes
dashielldeveron · 4 years ago
Text
and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo
hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.
summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.
No, you are not.
“We’re engaged to be married.”
No, you are not.
After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?
fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.
When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.
When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”
That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”
The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”
He left.
Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.
Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.
Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.
He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.
But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.
He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.
“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”
“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.
“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.
“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”
“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”
You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”
He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”
“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”
“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.
“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”
You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”
You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.
“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”
You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”
His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”
Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.
“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”
How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?
You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.
A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.
You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.
Would he take credit for your work again?
You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.
You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”
“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”
A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.
“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”
“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”
Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.
You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.
One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.
You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.
“C’mere, you little shit—”
He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”
“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”
“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”
Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.
You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—
Yeah.
While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?
What an idiot.
When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?
You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.
God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.
The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”
Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.
“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”
Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—
“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”
You just stared at him.
“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”
Oh, my God.
Holy fucking shit.
���Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”
Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.
Don’t fuck this up.
Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”
“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”
You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.
When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.
“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”
Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?
His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”
You know.
“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”
“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”
You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”
You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.
But so were you.
***
Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.
“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”
“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”
“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”
“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”
You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).
Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.
He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.
Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”
You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”
“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.
“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”
You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.
Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.
But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?
Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.
And gut says make Hawks eat shit.
“You think I’m cute?”
“I know you’re cute.”
You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.
“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”
Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.
He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.
Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.
Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”
Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”
“Was I good?”
Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”
“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.
“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.
You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”
“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”
“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”
“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”
“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”
Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).
Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”
“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.
“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”
Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”
“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”
Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”
“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”
“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”
“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”
Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!
Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?
“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”
“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”
“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”
Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.
Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”
Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”
You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll join you.”
“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.
Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”
“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”
***
“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”
Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”
If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.
“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”
Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.
“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”
Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.
“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.
“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”
Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.
“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?
With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”
Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.
“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”
“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”
You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.
***
When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.
The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.
Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”
“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.
His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”
Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.
“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”
God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”
“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”
“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.
“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”
***
“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.
Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”
“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?
Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”
“No explanation?”
“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.
“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.
“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.
“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”
“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”
He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.
You’re going to wring his neck.
You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.
The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).
“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.
Yet you shook your head.
***
“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.
“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”
“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”
“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”
Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”
“Promise?”
***
When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.
You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.
***
“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”
Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”
“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”
You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.
Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.
The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.
God. You’re going to throw up.
The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.
Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.
The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.
“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”
Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?
You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.
You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.
Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.
Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.
“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”
“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”
From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”
“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”
Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.
“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”
Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—
Time.
You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?
No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.
Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.
You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.
He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.
Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—
“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”
You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.
You can’t deal with anyone new right now.
A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.
Oh god oh fuck not now
“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”
Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.
And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.
And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.
When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”
You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.
He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”
Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.
“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”
Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.
He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”
“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.
“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”
Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.
“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”
Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”
“Window,” you said.
“Window?”
“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”
“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.
Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.
“Better?”
“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.
“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”
“Not right now.”
Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.
Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?
Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?
Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.
But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.
The last ten months had proved that.
“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”
Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.
(Bird man big and safe.)
([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])
(BIRD MAN SAFE—)
Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.
Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.
Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.
For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)
Don’t think!
When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.
Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—
Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.
Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.
It’s what he wants.
Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.
“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”
“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”
It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”
Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”
His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.
You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.
***
“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”
He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”
“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”
“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.
“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”
“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”
“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”
“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”
“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”
Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”
“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.
“It’s your finger?”
“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.
“No?”
“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”
“You’re popping it?”
“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”
“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”
“Can I film it?”
“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”
“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”
“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”
He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”
“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”
“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”
“Describe them to me.”
“I can show you—”
“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”
“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”
“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.
“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”
“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.
Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”
He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).
“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.
You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.
You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.
He waited for you.
“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”
He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”
“I’m missing something.”
“I know.”
“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.
“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”
“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”
“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”
“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”
Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.
“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”
Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.
So, this is it. The way out.
Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.
“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”
Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.
Where do you go from here?
You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”
You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.
***
Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.
You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.
Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.
You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.
And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.
And maybe you do, too.
Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.
347 notes · View notes
simsadventures · 4 years ago
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Gilded: Chapter 2: Our House (The Mess We’ve Made)
Mobster! Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve doesn’t like to be questioned, and you learn that the hard way. When he wants something, he gets it, and now he wants to have everything over with as quickly as possible. But there are a few bumps on the road. 
Warnings: mafia au, swearing, violence, blood, threats, violence on women, slight mention of a rape, fluff, I mean, Steve is very demanding here, but it’s a theme so… 
Word Count: 6087
A/N: I’m beyond excited that you guys liked the first chapter so much and are giddy for the next one. So, here we have it. More of our arranged couple and more mafia stuff. Let me know what you thought, and again, thank you for reading! xx
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Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 
< Previous Chapter 
“You did what? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Y/N, I love you, but you must have hit your head real hard because this is not like you, at all,” Caroline reasoned, but you could see she was close to losing it completely. 
They were both waiting for you to come home that night, and you first had to make sure neither of them would talk about anything you were about to reveal. You trusted both of them with your life, that wasn’t the issue, but you were afraid that if they talked outside of your apartment, Steve might know and the things he could do to them would be the core of your future nightmares, you were sure of it. When they finally agreed, you got to explaining. But you didn’t even get a full sentence out before they started jumping in it, asking questions and wildly swatting their hands, trying to make you see just how stupid of an idea it actually was. 
“Do you think I don’t know it sounds insane? I do, but also like, it’s gonna take care of so many issues, and, I mean, all he needs from me, as far as I understood it, is to go to a few events with him, go to some vacations with him and that would be all. I mean, I can still have the job I actually enjoy and don’t have to slave in that fucking pub with all those weirdos, and I won’t have to worry about money,” you tried to sound reasonable and sensible, but from the looks on your best friends’ faces, you weren’t doing too good of a job. 
“Right, right, cool. So, you wanna tell me that the most notorious fucking mobster in America will let you live here, with us, while he parades you around the city at night? Or that he doesn’t have enemies you should worry about? Or what about the fucking police, Y/N, huh? Have you thought of that? You will be affiliated with a known criminal, and they will start to notice you and your life won’t be as easy as you picture it,” Aidan sighed and massaged his temples, the stress of it all getting the best of him. 
You sat down next to them and smiled at them fondly. It was sweet that they worried so much about you, and just the mere thought that there were people on this planet who gave a shit about you, even to the point of yelling at you at 11 PM on Wednesday night was heartwarming. You understood their reservations, you really did, but you also knew this all before you said yes to Steve. You knew it wouldn’t be as easy, and while you weren’t sure whether you would have to live with Steve in Manhattan or somewhere else, or if he let you just be on your own, you knew you could take it. The police didn’t scare you, you’ve had enough training in diverting the police from yourself, so the police was the last thing on your mind. Besides, you were signing petitions left and right to defund them, so… You were pretty sure they already knew your name from the demonstrations in front of their precincts. 
Enemies were a bit more challenging to handle, but you were sure Steve wouldn’t want his new wife to die on his watch. How would that look for him? So really, all that was at stake was your sanity and your integrity, and thinking about it, Steve didn’t ask you to do something illegal. The only thing he wanted from you was to be a good girl, marry him and be by his side. And you could do that. And you were only human, Steve was a sight to behold, so you didn’t mind being connected to him, even though he specifically told you he wasn’t attracted to you. 
That one still stung, but maybe it was for the better. You wouldn’t have to worry about doing something stupid when the other party was completely uninterested, and knowing it, you could just never let your body have even a minor crush on him, so the situation really resolved itself even before anything could have happened. 
“I really think I can gain more than I can lose, you guys. I didn’t imagine my life being like this, far from it, and maybe Steve and his money can help me get where I want. And I won’t even have to sleep with him or anybody else. He even talked about putting a no-sex clause in our contract so that I would be safe even on paper. You always tell me that I’m not taking enough risks and that I stay rooted in my comfort zone. Well, this is quite the improvement, isn’t it?” You laughed, and they both just shook their heads but chuckled nevertheless. 
“You are a psychopath, babe,” Aidan muttered but gave you a side hug, and Caroline soon joined. 
“We love you and worry about you, that’s all. But if you feel good about this, then so do we. I just hope he’s ready for our wrath if anything even remotely bad happens to you,” Caroline said, and the three of you started to laugh. You would bet somebody like Steve would be scared shitless from two 20-something-year-olds who, one who was scared of wasps so much she almost fainted every time she saw one, and the other having a hard time peeling a grapefruit. Yup, they were the combat duo you would bet your money on in a fight, for sure. 
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Waking up, you had a good feeling about the decision, even more so than the night before. You had mulled it over and over in your head, seeing that this was the way out of everything and also your way to a lot of those things you wanted to have by now. You even thought of the saying, sometimes, the only way out is through, and this was your through. There was no foreseeable way of getting out of debt, of getting out of the depression caused by your hectic and unsatisfying life. Your way through it was accepting Steve’s money and his help for a year, freeing you from the shackles of your current life, in a sense. 
That it would come with a different kind of shackled you were sure of, but everything was better than your life now because you really couldn’t even call it a life. You wanted so many things, see so many places, but the world wasn’t made for the people playing by the rules, slaving in their ordinary jobs. No, this capitalist world was made for sharks, and you had been disguised as a sheep for too long. 
When you got to the gallery, you were welcomed by a sight that surprised you, and not in a good way. Where you were used to sitting every day for the past two years was another girl. She was pretty, and you bet she was wonderful, but at that very moment, all you saw was that somebody replaced you. 
You swiftly unlocked the door and walked in, the girl standing up immediately to greet you with a shy smile and a wave. You couldn’t be a complete bitch to her, after all, this was way above her pay grade. So, you just nodded and strode towards the offices where the director sat. 
“Good morning, Ms Y/L/N. I see you have met Laura, our new receptionist. And before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you that we appreciate everything you had done for this gallery for so long and that we thought it was time for you to learn some other skills, as you are more than capable of that,” he smiled warmly, and you weren’t sure if it was a nice way of saying you were let go of, or if you were promoted. 
“What does that mean, Mr Jones?” You asked incredulously, not really in the mood to search in between the lines. 
“You have become my personal secretary, Ms Y/L/N. Congratulations! I know you have the aspiration of becoming a curator, so, this way, you could get a little closer to art even though there is still some way to go, naturally,” he winked and chuckled, and you let yourself relax with the news. 
Wow! Your life was already taking a turn for the better, and all you had to was to go with your gut and risk a little. You wanted to laugh out loud at the universe and its mysterious ways of working. But, thinking of mysterious, your mind suddenly pictured Steve and his devilish smirk, and your smile faltered. 
“And may I ask, why now? Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for the chance, and I will do my best to succeed in expectations. I just wonder what happened that the chance has come now?” 
Mr Jones scratched the back of his neck, and you gritted your teeth. You already knew that it wasn’t the universe praising you for your bravery. No, this had nothing to do with the universe. 
“More things have come together, to be quite honest, Ms Y/L/N. First, my long-time secretary left for her maternity leave a few weeks ago, as you might remember, and I have been looking for her replacement ever since. And I forgot what an amazing student we had here, who is already established with the clients and with our partners, and that this will be a win-win situation for everybody. And your fiancée was quite adamant that your resumé is remarkable and that I should give you a chance,” he smiled and piled gathered in your throat. 
How Steve managed to persuade Jones to do this was beyond you when you left him only a few hours ago, most of which were during the night, so there wasn’t much room for negotiation between the parties. You just hoped people wouldn’t start treating you differently when they realised your affiliation. That was the only thing you obviously didn’t think through: the opinion of the society. And since the New York society had been one of the most judging and selective ones even back in the 19th and 20th century, you knew not that much has changed since. People were afraid of Steve, with a good reason too, and now they might become frightened of you too. Fucking awesome. 
“I want to assure you that my fiancée won’t be present in my work life, however notorious he is,” you tried to sound as confident in what you were saying as you could, but you weren’t sure if you were doing a good job. But Mr Jones just smiled and sat down, signalling for you to sit down opposite of him, and he started talking about business and about what the job actually was. And while you tried to give him your full attention, there was this angry voice in your head, ready to bite Rogers’ head off. He would meet your famous wrath sooner than you thought, but it was all his fault anyway. 
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The job was, actually, quite impressive. As your boss told you, you got to meet several artists already, you could sit in the meeting where they decided what kind of art the gallery was interested in, and you soaked all that in like a sponge. You were radiating by the end of the day, and the wrath subsided a little, but only till the moment, you saw a black SUV parked in front of the gallery and one of the turtlenecks standing beside it. 
You decided that if Steve could do what he wanted, so could you and so you walked in the opposite direction than was the car, leaving the turtleneck yelling your name and running after you. But you ignored him completely, even when he reached you and patted your shoulder, slightly bewildered that you recognised him and still decided not to do as he said. Oh, these obnoxious mobsters needed to learn that they couldn’t get everything they wanted. 
“Miss Y/L/N, please, you need to come with me. Mr Rogers is waiting for you in the car,” he said, and you finally stopped and looked him deep in the eyes while you folded your arms across your chest. You hoped you looked intimidating, but since the guy was wearing a pair of sunglasses you couldn’t be entirely sure whether it worked. But you didn’t relent and just stared him down, and when he shifted uncomfortably, you knew you were winning this contest. 
“Would you please come with me? Mr Rogers hates to wait,” he mumbled the last thing, and you would have snickered if you weren’t so determined to be the tough guy there. It was only when you heard other footsteps somewhere behind you, and the guy in front of you actually flinched that you realised the big boss himself was there to get you. 
“No, Mr Rogers really doesn’t like to wait, Y/N. Is this the way to treat your fiancée?” Steve asked when he reached you, and you shuddered from the poisonous undertone in his voice. Safe to say, it might not have been the best strategy to try and walk away from him, but you had decided for it once, and now you were gonna stand by your decision. 
“Oh, I don’t know, darling,” you hissed but continued before he could comment on your behaviour, “is intimidating my boss to give me a promotion a way to treat me? You really think you have control over everything and everyone, Steve, but let me tell you something. This is my fucking life, and you have no fucking right to march in and do as you please!”
He just raised a brow, and his nostrils flared before you felt his hand on your upper arm, squeezing it so tightly you were sure your arm wasn’t getting any blood. But you didn’t want him to win, which would definitely happen if you pleaded with him, so you just gritted your teeth and stared him down. Steve nodded at the guys around him to leave you two, and they took a few steps back, sure enough to protect their boss but to give him at least some privacy with you. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me in that tone, huh? I think you’ll understand soon enough that disobedience is punished greatly here, honey! So, stop acting like a brat who gets off from causing scenes in public and come with me. And, for your information, this is a fucking order, and I dare you to move from me again,” Steve spat in your ear, and you trained your eyes on the ground. 
Well, not your best idea, you had to admit that, and you valued your own head enough to just shut up and follow him. And by following him, you meant walking beside him because Steve obviously didn’t trust you enough to let go of your arm, even if his grip loosened slightly. 
He thrust you in the car with a force that could scare many, but it only just slightly surprised you. When he finally sat down next to you, he bid the driver to just go and stared out of the window, not addressing you in any shape or form, and you huffed in annoyance. 
“Look, Steve, you brought me here for a reason, so what do you want? I thought we agreed to meet tomorrow and not today, in broad daylight in front of my job.”
“Show some respect!” He roared, and you saw the eyes of the bodyguards, or whatever they were, flick towards you in fear. It was funny how such huge men were clearly so afraid of one of them. You remained calm, however, and just remained looking at him. Then you realised something. He didn’t mind your mouth the night before that much when the two of you were alone, but he couldn’t stand it when people were around. He needed to be the man, his people needed to know that nobody treated him differently and that not even his future wife could disobey him, let alone publicly. You swallowed your pride and shifted your gaze elsewhere. 
“I’m sorry, Steve, I’ve had a long day, and I’m taking it on you now. I just wished you spoke to me before you called my boss, but still, thank you for the opportunity,” you muttered meekly, and the triumphant look on Steve’s face spoke volumes. He just hummed and patted your shoulder, his own shoulders slacking and relaxing. These people were so easy to read, you were actually quite astounded that they weren’t played like violins by some secret agents or something like that. Well, you thought, at least you could play them, and it would make your life a little easier if you did it well enough. 
“I came because we needed to discuss more things, honey. I had a pressing matter to attend to yesterday so I couldn’t stay longer, but I have the whole afternoon reserved just for you today, so we can go over all the parts of our agreement in great detail and that we can start planning our wedding,” he flashed you a smile, and it was your time to tense up because if you were to have a wedding soon, which was clearly something Steve wanted, you needed to get a move on and that stressed you out. The arrangement might have been just for a year, but you knew that Steve’s wedding was supposed to be magnificent, showing all that he obtained and all that the mere mortals couldn’t have. You included. 
But then you realised something. 
“Sure, but I need to take care of something first if you don’t mind,” you added quickly seeing the mobster next to you tensing up again. “As I no longer work at Joey’s pub, I need to get my things from there. My boss called me this morning telling me that I still had my work shoes and other stuff there and that I should pick it up or they’ll throw it away.” 
“Just give the address to the driver, we’ll get it, and then we’ll go to my place- oh, excuse me- our place and discuss what we need,” he said simply, and you followed his orders. 
The rest of the drive was silent, and you could unwind a little, reminisce about the 24 hours you have had. From taking the subway anywhere you needed to, to driving in an armoured SUV with the most prolific mafia boss of the USA, your life took quite the turn. You needed to set some boundaries with Steve, but you needed to do it tactfully and, most importantly, alone. You hadn’t known him at all, but you knew the type. There would be reasoning with him as long as he thought he had a free choice and knew that his position wasn’t neither threatened nor questioned.  
This was a part of your agreement that you actually didn’t mind. Joey’s pub was not the fanciest of places in New York and while some of the customers were lovely and tipped well, the weekend sort was made of sleazy assholes who would touch you without your permission and not having to be around them would definitely be something you could get used to. 
The boss who’s name wasn’t Joey, surprise, surprise, but Thomas, nodded your way when you came in. The pub was only half full, but the odour of mixed sweat, beer and vomit was ever the same. Gosh, how you couldn’t wait to be out of there. 
Taking the places of the little box by the box with beer cans, you scanned the supply closet one last time and nodded as a goodbye. However, when you turned around, you bumped into somebody, and it sent you flying back a bit as you didn’t expect anybody to be there with you. You looked up to see Thomas standing there, looking pissed. 
“Funny! I never knew you were on the market, pussycat. And now I find out you are newly engaged and to Mr Rogers no less? I thought you said you didn’t want a relationship,” he sneered as he neared you and you instinctively took a step back. That he had a crush on you, you knew, and you told him multiple times that you weren’t interested, that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend and that you just wanted to be left alone. You scoffed at his immature behaviour now and tried to push around him without saying a word because you knew there was no talking to people like him. But he wouldn’t let you go, of course. 
“Maybe if I fucked you, you would see that I deserve you just as much, huh?” He hissed and took your already sore arm, yanking you towards him till you were pressed tight against his chance. You still remained calm, knowing that trashing and screaming would get you nowhere. 
“Let me go, Thomas. Steve is outside, and he is waiting for me, so I suggest you take your disgusting hands off of me and just let me go,” you tried to reason, but, again, there was no such thing with dumbasses like him. What was more, he probably didn’t like your remark about his disgusting hands, and so, without warning, he slapped you right across your left cheek. 
That made you gasp for the first time because till then, you really thought he was just playing and that he would let you go, but now seeing the bewildered look on his face, you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t have the upper hand in the argument. 
“Like fuck he is, what would Rogers do in these parts, huh? I bet it wasn’t even him who called me last night and that you were just trying to get the upper hand. But guess what, you fucking whore, you are not getting out of here until I fuck you unconscious,” he roared and you gulped, trying to think of possible escape routes. But you were in a fucking supply closet, so there was literally just the one door, and Thomas was occupying the whole space in front of it. So, you’d just have to fight your way through. You were a little rusty, but this big-bellied idiot would stand no chance. 
But before you had the opportunity to execute your plan, the door behind him flew open and revealed one fo the turtlenecks (you made a mental note to actually learn their names because this was just awkward) and a very angry-looking Steve. 
Thomas faltered in his movement towards you and checked who had the audacity to interrupt him. The shock and fear on his face were priceless. 
Steve didn’t waste any more time as he lunged himself at the man and punched him straight in the nose, and the sickening crack you heard must have meant Steve broke it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to pity Thomas. You warned him, even though you didn’t expect Steve actually coming to your rescue. There were some advantages to being tied to him, it seemed. 
The turtleneck then took Steve’s place by Thomas, probably so that he wouldn’t escape and Steve marched towards you, still looking too pissed for you to stand calmly under his searching gaze. 
“Did he hurt you?” He sneered but didn’t wait for your reply as he checked your face, seeing your puffed left cheek which told him all he needed to know. The bruise already forming on your arm was both from him and from Thomas, so he didn’t comment on that, but Steve wiped the trickle of blood in the corner of your mouth before he turned around and now calmly walked towards Thomas. 
“Next time that degenerated brain of yours even thinks of her, I will come and slice your throat. Am I clear?” Steve spat into Thomas’s face who just nodded, probably glad that he got out of it so easily. What he didn’t see coming (and to be honest, neither did you) was the turtleneck suddenly pulled out a big-ass knife out of somewhere and the air filled with the bone-chilling cries as he cut Thomas’ finger off as if it was the most normal thing to do before he wiped the knife on Thomas’s shirt and tucked it back in his pocket. The blood flowing from the wound was thick and almost purple, and you had to shut your eyes at the scene. But the image was already seared into your brain forever. 
“Fucking rapist,” Steve said and kicked the already laying man, motioning to the turtleneck and you that you were to follow him. But your legs weren’t listening to your brain, as you were just watching Thomas writhing in pain, wailing and sobbing, and all that because he dared to touch you. An involuntary shudder shook your body, and it as only when you felt an arm around your torso, pulling you to the person’s side that you woke up. Steve didn’t say anything as he came back and wrapped his arm around you, walking you out of there, probably used to that people were dazed when they saw that much blood. And that was just a cut-off finger, how would it look if a person actually bled out there?
“Here, have a piece of chocolate, it should help you,” Steve whispered into your ear as he handed you a little piece when you finally made it to his car, and you took it without question, savouring the sweet taste on your tongue as it streamed into your system like the most delicious medicine. You took a deep breath, your brain recognising that it was a different environment and that the stench of the pub was long gone as was the blood. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” you heard yourself saying meekly, but there was no reprimanding him, there was no anger in your voice and Steve heard that. He knew it was the shock of the scene talking because you weren’t one of them. You didn’t see blood on an almost daily basis as he did and you had the right to be surprised. 
“I actually had to, Y/N. He touched you, he hurt you and nobody hurts what’s mine. And you are mine now or will be very soon, and I can’t have dickheads like him running around the city thinking they are invincible. You are under my protection, and the whole world has to realise that,” he tried to make you see his point, and when you nodded solemnly, he saw you understood it. You might not have been ok with it, but that was another thing, and that would take time. Steve hoped people wouldn’t be so dumb and try anything on you, but, the truth be told, inwardly he knew he would have to protect you more often than not because some people had a death wish. 
“Are you up to discussing our marriage, or do you want me to drive you home?” He asked, and you looked at him for the first time since the pub scene. You shook your head and chuckled a little, not understanding where was this coming from. It was apparent that there were many layers to Steve Rogers, but his mood swings were giving you a headache already. One second he was the infamous mobster and the other he impersonated a caring boyfriend? 
“I’m fine, Steve, thank you. I was just taken by surprise because I thought I would have to take him down myself, and I probably wouldn’t cut off his finger in the process, but we all do our things. I’m good for a discussion, if you are,” you gave him your best encouraging smile and Steve stared at you in disbelief for a moment before he averted his eyes towards the driver and gave him a signal that he was to take you two to Steve’s mansion. 
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Three hours later, you regretted your decision greatly. Steve and you had been talking the whole time, trying to reach a compromise that would be suitable for both of you considering your marriage and your wedding. You were quite surprised when Steve came up with things that were up for discussion because you really thought he would just come with a set of rules for you to follow, and that would be it. Well, the set of rules was there, but so were other things, like where you’d like to live (it was either the New York mansion which he called the apartment or some villa he had in Hamptons, apparently), what were the countries he could take you (which was actually a nice touch) and others. You didn’t give a damn about a lot of the stuff, but the countries were something that caught your attention. 
“I would love to visit different places, that’s beyond doubt, but I do not wish to be taken to California, ever,” you insisted, and while Steve tried to inquire why it was that California was on your hard-no list, you wouldn’t budge. You just told him that you weren’t a fan of the hot weather and the swarm of people you heard was in LA and that it was the only place where you wouldn’t go with him, under no circumstances. After a while, he gave up and just jotted it down with a nod. 
“Now, to the sex thing, do you want it on paper that I don’t want you in this way or are you good with my word?” 
You felt your cheeks heating up, but you tossed your pride away again. This was a business meeting, and Steve was actually extremely honest with you, so the best you could do was to be frank with him as well. 
“I’m good with your word, thank you for asking. What I’d like on paper is that you won’t trade me with information. I don’t wanna wake up one morning to be chained by some of your pistol-buddies who wanted to fuck Steve’s wife,” you raised a brow, and Steve chuckled and licked his lips, which was something that got your attention. You snapped at your brain to stop the thought flooding your brain, and a part of you considered putting licking his own lips around you on the hard-no’s list for a second. 
“Alright, I will never do that, and I will put that in our contract. Now, have you decided where you want to live? And no, your own apartment isn’t an answer. I’m willing to pay the expenses so that your friends can stay there, but you are coming to live with me, either here or in Hamptons. So, which one is it?” 
“Here,” you answered after a while, “I have my job here so I can’t be going back forth to Hamptons every day. Speaking of my job, will you require my presence at every meeting? I’m just asking if I even have a chance attaining my job as is, or if I should quit now because you will never let me go there again.” 
“I would have let them fire you if I thought about not letting you work there anymore, now, wouldn’t I? Most of the meetings that I will need you are at night, so your work is fine. I hope your boss will give you enough vacation days because we will need those, but other than that, I think you will be fine at the gallery. Besides, I’ve assigned a personal bodyguard for you who will go everywhere with you, so you won’t have to worry about anybody attacking you,” he concluded, looking proud of himself. You, on the other hand, were bewildered. 
“A personal what now? Steve, I can’t just show up at work with some huge guy in all black following me everywhere I move. I saw the looks from some of my coworkers, and they would never accept me if I had a bodyguard, c’mon,” you were desperate now because just the thought made you shudder. 
“This is not negotiable, so just learn to live with it. Alright, I think that’s all from that, and we will both sign it before the wedding. Now, the wedding will be next week. I already hired planners, so that the only thing you need to care about is the wedding dress. It’s just for a show, and if it were up to me, we would just go to the city hall, but the world needs to see this wedding, so we’re doing it in the Weylin. Write down your favourite colours and flowers, the cake will be red velvet, and that’s not negotiable, but everything else you want, you write down, and the planners will do it. Also, write down all the guests you’d like to invite, family and all that, so we know how many guests we’re having,” Steve rambled on, but your mind wandered towards your family. 
None of them would be attending the wedding, and your heart gave a painful tug at the thought. You had always wanted your dad to walk you down the aisle, and he was so excited to do so, but now that wasn’t possible. And your beautiful mother… The memories made your eyes water, but you blinked the tears away quickly enough so that Steve wouldn’t see them. But he was used to reading people, so he saw your reaction to him mentioning a family very clearly, he just decided against commenting on it. Yet. 
“Alright, I’ll send you all the lists by Saturday, if that’s good enough, and I’m actually good with red velvet. It would be a problem if you said some cakes with loads of nuts because I’m extremely allergic to a majority of those, you should know about that, but red velvet is fine enough,” you nodded, and Steve did as well, glad he didn’t have to fight you on that one. Not that it would be a fruitful fight since the red velvet was his favourite type of cake on Earth. 
“I want you to move in before the wedding, I’ll have a room set up for you tomorrow, and you can bring whatever you want from your home. You will have access to my credit card, but I’m warning you, excessive spending will not be tolerated, alright?” 
You scoffed and rolled your eyes but bowed your head in mocked understanding. Steve had obviously spent his life with women only caring about the sum on his credit card, while you couldn’t care less. The card would be good for the wedding dress, but that was about it. You realised a long time ago that the fashion industry was one of the most dangerous ones for the environment, and while you still shopped from time to time, you tried to reduce it to a minimum. And if you did shop, you loved local stores and fair-trade manufacturers, who vowed to keep the well-being of the planet their number one priority. 
“I’ll take it that you understood it. Fine, so, you’ll move in tomorrow, I think my people can manage it till that. So, they’ll pick you up, let’s say, around 8 PM? That enough time?” 
You blinked and took the information in. He wanted you to move in tomorrow. Not in a week so you’d have time to actually pack and say goodbye to your friends, even if you still planned on meeting them every other day or so. You wanted a goodbye sleepover where you’d just laugh and drink and hope that the year would be a good one. Or, at least, not a disastrous one. 
“That’s definitely not enough time, Steve. Can’t it wait till next week? I need to say goodbye to my friends, and it’s already late, so we can’t do it tonight and just… Give me at least till Saturday evening, Steve, please,” you tried to bargain, and while you saw he wasn’t the greatest of fans, he agreed eventually. That ended your discussion, and you were soon driven away from the house you would soon call yours.
/ Next Chapter >
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Taglists in reblogs :) xx
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mod-kyoko · 4 years ago
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Hi there! Saw that the requests were open and here I am😂😂 can I please request for kokichi, nagito, kiibo and rantaro with an s/o who has heterochromia (basically a person with condition in which their iris are of two different colors). S/o is really insecure about it and covers one of their eyes with their bangs all the time. But one day they decide to clip up their bangs and show both of their eyes. I don't really know but I find people with heterochromia really interesting and wanted to see how the reaction of my favorite characters would be😂😂
heya, mod kyoko here! thank you for the request :) your headcanons are down below ⇩⇩⇩
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♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧
rantaro, nagito, kokichi, and kiibo with an s/o who has heterochromia
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you've never shown rantaro your right eye before
you told him you had heterochromia, but out of respect he never asked to see it
you always had side bangs covering your brown eye
as far as most knew, both of your eyes were blue
secretly, kaede had been helping you regain confidence so you wouldn't have to hide it anymore
one day, you were sitting in front of the mirror with kaede and decided it was finally time
while she was giving you words of encouragement, you clipped your bangs back and sighed at your reflection
it was that moment when rantaro entered the room
you let out a gasp and instinctively went to pull the clip to let your bangs fall back in front of your eye
kaede nervously glanced back and forth between you two
"wait! s/o," a look of regret immediately washed over his face as he rushed towards you
your lip began to tremble as you glared down at your hands
"s/o," he grabbed your face with his hands so you would meet his gaze
kaede gave a small smile, before leaving the room to give you some space
rantaro delicately lifted your bangs and moved them out of the way, slightly gasping when he saw your eyes
"they are... so beautiful," he breathed, staring into them as if they were something he had lost that he finally found
you blush, breaking eye contact to pull him in for a hug
the two of you share a warm embrace that calms your nerves enough for you to realize that maybe having heterochromia isn't so weird
because of this moment, you were able to clip back your bangs to face the rest of your friends that day
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like rantaro, nagito was aware of your heterochromia
he just never asked about it
one day you decided to be a little courageous and step outside your comfort zone
you clipped your bangs back, showing off your two-toned eyes, and then left your cottage
the first person you saw just happened to be nagito
"s/o! good morni-" he stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open at the sight of you
with a smile, you walked over to him, trying to keep your nerves at bay
"hey," you greeted him sheepishly
"hey," he breathed, still staring into your eyes
finally, he snapped out of his dazed state, and a look of fear struck his face
"s/o! how rude of me, a person like me shouldn't be staring at a person like you like that, i don't have the right-"
you cut him off mid-sentence by going in for a hug, knowing that if you didn't he would have rambled on forever
once he seemed to calm down, he met your eyes again
"s/o, you probably don't want to hear this from me, but your eyes are really pretty," he mumbled nervously, looking away again
a toothy grin graced your lips as you grabbed his face in your hands
"i really appreciate that, nagito," after placing a kiss on his cheek, he seemed to go back to his relaxed self
hand in hand, the two of you walked towards the hotel restaurant to get some breakfast
nagito made sure to shower you with compliments on your eyes all the time after that
he would often find himself getting lost in them too, so appreciative that you would even show scum like him your most beautiful trait
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we all know kokichi doesn't know when to shut up
usually
one morning he found you sitting in front of your mirror in the process of clipping your bangs back, and saw your eyes
he didn't know you had heterochromia, you never told him
when you noticed his presence, you dropped the hair clip in surprise, your bangs falling back in front of your eyes
"what was that about?" he stomped over to you, shoving himself in your face
"kokichi get away-" you tried to dodge his grabby hands but failed
it didn't take long for him to successfully pull your bangs back, revealing your eyes
"haha! that's so weird!" he laughed, staring into them
you grit your teeth as embarrassment flooded you
"get out," you mumbled
he didn't comply, so you repeated yourself louder
"get. out!" you yelled, standing up from your seat
you wanted to put distance between you and him since he deeply ticked you off
he looked genuinely remorseful after that
"wait what?" he asked, trying to take a step towards you
"kokichi, jesus, why would you say something like that?" you continue yelling, making gestures with your hands
his lip starts to tremble
"i didn't mean it, s/o, i was just joking, please don't yell at me," he began shedding his famous crocodile tears, earning an eyeroll from you
"don't you even do that with me, i can see through it"
....
his tears suddenly vanished
you angrily sat on your bed with a loud sigh, resting your head in your hands
not knowing what else to do, he tenderly sat next to you
"i may have faked the tears, but i really do feel bad for what i said, s/o" he frowns, reaching out to grab your hand
you let him
"ouma, you really hurt my feelings. my heterochromia isn't something i show just anyone, i'm actually really insecure about it."
his frown deepened as he climbed onto you for a hug
"i'm really sorry. they do look very cool though, you know." he says
you give him a smile, hugging him tightly
"thanks, ouma."
after that debacle, you decided to take one small step at a time, with kokichi by your side helping you
any time someone insulted your eyes or even looked at them weirdly, he would start screeching at them
you thought it was very funny to watch those people get scared away
boy are you so lucky to have a partner who would stand up for you like that
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kiibo doesn't really know how to "read the air"
so when the day came that you finally gained the confidence to show him your multicolored eyes, the first thing he said was:
"wow, s/o, what's wrong with your eyes?!"
very loudly
so loudly in fact that people started whispering
cue the silent treatment
with tears in your eyes and your cheeks painted red, you stormed out of the room and to your dorm
kiibo decided to follow you (good choice, kiibo)
once he found you he was in a very confused and remorseful state
"s/o, what's wrong? did i do something wrong?"
"yes! yes, you did. i had finally become confident enough to trust you with my biggest insecurity and you asked me what is wrong with them?" you yelled, covering your eyes with your hands
without saying anything, kiibo walked over towards you, and sat next to you on your bed
"i uh, i'm sorry, s/o. it's... hard for me to read the situation, i thought there was actually something wrong with you, please forgive me"
with a deep breath, you met his eyes
a few seconds of silence passed by before you began explaining to him your condition
once he understood, he felt even more remorseful for what he said earlier
"well... if it helps... i think they're really pretty" he tried to smile, but the regret was too heavy
after noticing how hard he was beating himself up over it, you decided to forgive him
"it's okay, love. you didn't mean any harm," you lean onto him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and he is finally able to smile
after that, you decided to clip your hair back for the rest of the day
kiibo was with you as you walked out of your room, giving you words of encouragement as you went to go find your friends
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that concludes your headcanons! i hope they aren't too long, i really got into a groove when writing these. thanks again for the request!
have a great day!
-mod kyoko <3
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the-palmetto-king · 4 years ago
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In Neil's Sophomore year, Katelyn (5'3, blue eyed, slender build, auburn haired Katelyn) has a friend with cancer and decides to cut her hair very, very short (ahem like Neil's). CUE THE DRAMATICS
listen this took very long i've been insanely busy. so um sorry. but also this ended up really long. so. enjoy.
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"I'm thinking about cutting my hair," Katelyn said in the car, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Okay. I mean you don't need my permission, and I think you should do it if you want to, but why?" Aaron asked.
"I mean with Emma and everything, I mean I feel like it's the least I could do," she replied. A few weeks ago, one of the vixens had been diagnosed with cancer and it had been hard on all of them. A few of them had decided to band together and cut their hair in a show of support.
Aaron loved how caring she was, caring about everyone from her found family with the vixens to fucking Josten sometimes. He could never, and probably will never, understand how those two came to be friends.
When he picked Katelyn up from her hair stylist's place Aaron's first thought was that she looked amazing.
His second thought was that she looked like Josten. God. His girlfriend, of all people looking like the Palmetto striker who happened to be fucking his brother.
Auburn hair atop a thin face with bright blue eyes flashing in the sunshine.
"Do you like it?" she asked warily.
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I really like the feel and the look," Katelyn responded.
"Then yes, I do," Aaron smiled. He pushed all thoughts about his twin brother and his boyfriend out of his head.
His girlfriend was amazing and lovely, and nothing like Josten. He kissed her and pulled out of his parking spot.
When he pulled up to practice later, he saw Josten standing next to Andrew and it nearly gave him a heart attack. When he couldn't see Josten's obnoxious face, his first thought was that it was Katelyn. God. He loved Katelyn more than he loved himself, but he had to figure something out if he thought of Neil fucking Josten every time he looked at her and vice versa.
The more he thought about it, the more he didn't like it. Katelyn was kind, forgiving, and the woman he loved. Neil was ruthless, hotheaded, and the boy who was going after his brother.
Maybe they did look a little similar though. He could admit that. Maybe admit it, but not deal with it. If he ignored it long enough, maybe it would go away.
Sitting in front of Bee a week later, it did not. Clearly. When he was sleep-deprived, for example, he nearly called Neil Katelyn, and he couldn't stop thinking about she looked like Neil when he was kissing Katelyn yesterday. It was seriously fucking him up.
Andrew was running late for their joint session, and he would never talk about it with Andrew. They have enough problems as is. Bee could just tell something was wrong. He could see why Andrew liked her. Maybe "liked" wasn't the word; more like "she appealed to him." He would never understand their relationship and he's given up on trying to.
So when she asked him what was bothering him, he said fuck it and told her. Legally, she couldn't tell anyone.
"So does it bother you that Katelyn and Neil look similar, or that it's Neil she looks similar to?"
Turns out Neil, speaking of the devil, was sick and Andrew decided to skip and take care of him. Aaron had no idea how that made him feel, or whatever it was that Betsy asked because he didn't care. Andrew could skip their session with a fake excuse that he was taking care of his multiple-night stand. He was okay to skip his weekly torture, but Betsy asked him to stay.
Which is how he wound up talking about his current issue.
"I mean- they're so different, and Katelyn and I care about each other, and she could never be like him."
"So it's the fact that she looks like Neil that's bothering you," Bee replied.
"I didn't say that," Aaron protested, "I just hate that they are nothing alike but look so similar."
"And how exactly are they different?"
"Well Katelyn's amazing and I love her, and Neil's well- just Andrew's boyfriend and they don't actually care about each other; Neil's ruthless and rude, and everything Katelyn isn't."
"So is this about you and Andrew then?"
"I did not say that."
"But you meant it," Bee quirked an eyebrow. "And I think you might be upset that you and Andrew aren't as different as you may believe."
"Are you going to give me a solution to stop thinking of my brother's- whatever Neil is to him- or are you just going to sit there and psychoanalyze me?"
"You are welcome to leave if you don't want to get to the root of the problem," Bee replied, completely straight-faced.
"I don't want to get to the root of the problem, I just want it fixed."
When Katelyn picked him up, he tried to push everything relating to Andrew and Neil out of his head.
It was small talk before a genuine question about how therapy went before making out in her car and thinking that this was everything compared to his brother and Neil.
But it wasn't that he didn't care about Andrew, because he did and he was learning to; it was that he could never see how Andrew could look at Neil like he saw Katelyn.
Ignoring it worked for a little while, and he watched the sunlight streaming through her hair as she carefully drove her car back to the dorms. Completely unlike Neil's reckless driving, swerving between lanes like he was still on the run.
They said goodbye in the hallway with a kiss as Aaron opened his door. He trudged through his mountain of homework before waiting outside the Maserati for practice.
Neil and Andrew approached the car and hopped in the front seats of the car. Fuckers.
He rolled his eyes and hopped in the back. He looked at Neil leaning back in his seat and watched as his hair caught fire. Just like Katelyn's did. Fuck. God.
When they finally pulled up to the stadium Aaron jumped out of the car as quickly as he could and slammed the door. Neil looked at him weirdly, but Aaron didn't need anything from the source of his problem at the moment.
They had the same hair and the same eyes. They weren't anything like each other, right? Other than red hair and blue eyes. A fairly rare genetic combination doubling up in Palmetto to torture him. Figures, knowing his luck around anything concerning his brother.
The longer he zoned out staring at Neil, Aaron sort of started to see exactly what was bothering him.
It wasn't just that they were different, and that Neil annoyed him whilst Katelyn did anything but. Maybe it was the fact that Andrew had someone that wasn't him.
He remembered the nights on the bus where Neil comforted Andrew and the time Katelyn punched a guy who catcalled her. As much as he hated to admit it, both he and his brother had found people. Similar people, to say the least.
And whether or not they looked similar, well. It was funny that short auburn hair was what caused Aaron's entire predicament in the first place.
Andrew had Neil. Whether it was an actual relationship or just whatever they did, they were happy and Aaron was okay with that. And Aaron had Katelyn with that, and Andrew was coming to be okay with that.
God, admitting to himself that he and his brother were even somewhat similar was uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, more like it was something he was going to have to get used to.
A week later, he was sitting in front of Bee and he made eye contact and muttered a quick
"You were right."
She smiled and offered him hot cocoa. Andrew didn't say anything or even ask, and he silently thanked his brother for his apathetic attitude.
When Andrew left, Aaron stayed behind.
"I think it was more that it was Andrew's person or whatever," he said.
"Was this about Neil or Andrew?" Bee asked.
"Both, I think," he hesitated, "Maybe that Andrew and I had found people, and maybe even that they were similar." What had Josten even done to him. He wasn't exactly complaining about his mending relationship with Andrew, but now he was talking about his problems.
"Well, Aaron, I think that is a good explanation and that you have made good progress, especially with your brother." He nodded at her and got up from his chair.
In the car, Andrew raised an eyebrow, one of his only tells of emotions, and said, "If you're waiting for me to ask about whatever the fuck is going on with you I'm not going to."
"I wasn't waiting for you to do anything, asshole. And nothing's going on with me," Aaron replied through gritted teeth.
Just because he accepted whatever Josten was to Andrew does not mean he had to play nice with his asshole brother or his boyfriend. But for now, he was okay with his asshole brother and his even worse boyfriend.
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