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#guess i waited long enough. now you get a mini secret. every time i make an i love my friends post. I'm reminding myself why I'm still going
transgender-catboy · 7 months
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I love my friends
#i think im just going to talk in the tags for a moment. got a lot on my mind#for starters. the fnaf movie comes out soon. really looking forward to that. think its gonna be awesome and amazing and I'm super excited!!!#secondly. waiting on funds so i can buy that mask i saw the other day and some Halloween candy from Walmart#i . want to do little goodie bags for the kids in my building. but im too scared to go up to their parents and ask candy preference and#allergy concerns. so. idk. maybe I'll just save it. I think it's a cute concept but it makes me feel like my mother.#she loved to do little gift things for people. but it was always people that didn't like her. i don't want to be that way#i know my value. i know my time and energy means something. i don't want to waste it on people who don't give a shit. ya know?#not saying the kids are those kinds of people. not what i mean. but just as an overall thing. i don't like being like her.#...yeah. i dunno. you get raised by one person your whole life. you pick up some of their characteristics#i can't sob without sounding like her. safe to say i am a little emotionally constipated. so i seek other means to relieve that feeling.#like yesterday when i threw up. i played it off like that was a blunder on my body. but i know what i did.#hey. at least it's not the other method. right?. .. yeah. okay. i know. not great either#but it hurts. and I'm so fucking sick and tired of crying over her. genuinely. it's exhausting crying all the time#but that's the only way I can get those emotions out#I've tried to do the counseling thing. but other things made that impossible. then i moved.#and i tried the grief thing but instead i just got a talking buddy? he helps me get out of the house yeah.#but we dont talk about her#... i dunno. I'm just here.#guess i waited long enough. now you get a mini secret. every time i make an i love my friends post. I'm reminding myself why I'm still going#I'm usually sitting around somewhere in my apartment (desk couch bed) crying. alone. thinking about you guys.#so uh. thank you.#i love you guys so much. and i don't know where I'd be without you#probably dead.#💖#vent
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curvykittyyssmutfics · 5 months
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o.k I am a fan of bruce wayne/batman, so i would like you to write where bruce wayne has a short-size bossy assistant, reader who knew about his batman vigilante secret and he has a secret crush on him. She teased him, one day wearing a short skirt in a hot summer, made him want to bang her against the office table
The Proposal
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So estastic to finally have a night off work, I enthusiastically hum while the evening news plays low in the background as I put the finishing touches on my look. Running my fingers through my long, soft, dark tresses, I twist left and right to asses my sultry outfit through the body length mirror on the wall of my bedroom. I do one spin, then another, smirking at the way my mini skirt barely covers my plump chocolate rear.
I cannot believe Bruce is actually gonna let me outta his sight for more than 2 seconds. It's a God damn miracle and I plan on shakin my ass with my girls all night while sippin the fruitiest dranks I can buy. That is till I hear my phone vibrate and beep from my vanity beside me, notifying me of an incoming text. Hmm.. Need I guess who the fuck that is? I roll my eyes as I grab my phone and see a text from Bruce Wayne tellin, not askin, me to come do his bidding.
Bruce: Hey, honey. Come by the office round 10 tonight and drop of the proposal we've been working on.
Seriously? It was my first night off in 2 weeks and here's comes the infamous Batman, swoopin in to destroy my plans. So, his sexy ass refuses to fuck me and release the tension from years of workin under him but not letting me actually be under him- yet commands I wait on him hand and foot.
My eyes almost tear up from the immediate disappointment and frustration I feel. Not being dicked down in over a year was making my need for a good fuck damn near animalistic. The concept of a fun evening with the possibility of gettin some dick, since Bruce's fine ass ignored each and every one of my filthy advances, is now completely ruined; makes me have to take a deep breath before I pick up my glitter encased cellphone.
Me: Whyyyy? This is the only night I have off for like another couple of weeks and I have plans. Can't you reschedule?
His response back is lighting fast and I can't help but give a small giggle as I imagine his sexy stern ass all frowned up, nostrils flaring at the prospect of me not givin in to his demands instantly. Bruce isn't the kinda man that likes to be told no. Plus, the proposal we'd recently been working on was imperative to the deal he was currently trying to close. Still, I wouldn't be me if I didn't turn into a full blown brat with him for impeding my plans.
Bruce: Late night meeting, no cannot reschedule. Also, thought you said you were staying home tonight..
Me: Omfg Bruce. My girls begged me to go out tonight so I changed my mind! Didn't know I had to goddamn call and let you know.
Jesus did this man have to always interrogate me on every aspect of my life? He knows everything about me- though it was fair to say I knew him almost as well as Alfred. And it was kinda exciting to secretly know about his extracurricular activities, even if that had less to do with any honesty on his part and more to do with my snoopy ass overhearing a heated conversation between him and his long time friend about hanging up the the towel.
Bruce: Well now you know, sweetheart. What time will you be here?
Condescending bastard! He really never has a doubt that he can bend me to his every whim and normally he fucking can but it's time to get a rile outta him.
Me: Well if I gotta cancel my plans to get some fuckin dick tonight then I think I'll take my sweet fuckin time!
His response isn't as quick this time but it's short enough to know I ticked him off. Serves him right, his 'I can't have you but nobody else can' attitude was tiring.
Bruce: You have 15 minutes.
I roll my eyes at his attempt to scare me as I pull up the Uber app and tap in his office's address. Before I can confirm I hear a firm knock on my apartments front door and Alfred's voice speaking loudly from the other side.
"Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Wayne has sent me to come get you. I've recently been updated that he's in no mood to be kept waiting."
Uh oh, perhaps I should've thought this through. I'm not sure how mad he is or what he'll say when he sees me and now I'm directly and knowingly heading into to the lions cage.
"Coming!" I yell back, grabbing the file from drawer and heading for the door.
30 mins later
I exit the elevator and quickly rush to the where Bruce waits for me, catching a glimpse of my reflection through the glass walls of the other conference rooms. I wish I had time to change the skimpy outfit adorning my frame, doing nothing to contain my juicy ass cheeks as I lightly jog to the room where the meetings being held.
I don't bother knocking, quickly entering the room silently. Walking up behind Bruce sitting like a king at the end of the table as he talks on his cellphone, leaning back lazily in his chair with spread legs. His hips flex in his crisp midnight blue suit as he readjusts himself in his seat. The hefty bulge between his legs draws my eyes for a hot second as he spins slowly in his chair to look at me.
It's as if in an instant he's hungry, eyes sharply roving over every inch of me as he licks his lips sensually. He openly stares at the way my mini skirt barely covers my bottom, how my sheer top does nothing to hide my puckered nipples. The loud expletive he groans out as he eyefucks me goes straight to my empty core, has my abandoned, untouched little hole fluttering as I start to get wet.
"Nah I'm good, stomache ache. Let them know who you're here for when you arrive and someone will let you up. We can go over the proposal and see if you agree to the terms."
Bruce hangs up and sets his phone on the long light brown table that stretches across the room as he looks at me slowly from head to toe; wide dark brown eyes that linger at my plump tits and curvy hips. His mouth open and closes a few times, his shoulders now tense as hell as he sits stiff in his seat and stares at my outfit.
"You really are a fuckin brat, you know that? Did I not fuckin tell you to be here in 15?" He snarls at me, quickly standing to grab the file from between my fingers and toss it next to his phone.
The aggressive action has me swiftly backing up, not being able to take more than few steps before my back hits the wall. Absolutely shocked at the way he stalks towards me, arm quickly stretching out to grip my throat. One of his thick eyebrows remain raised as he waits for me to respond.
"I'm sor- sorry, sir. Traffic-" I stutter out, voice low.
"Yeah the fuck right, dont gimme that bullshit. We both know you think you can say and do whatever the fuck you want with me and I'm not into that, sweetheart. Unless you count me enjoyin punishing your pretty ass for it." He tells me, leaning so close that the tips of our noses almost touch.
My heart pounds as his hand squeezes a bit firmer at my neck, the other smoothing down the side of my tits and torso to my hips and thick brown thighs. The bulky protrusion between his legs presses against my center, makin me weakly grasp at his suit jacket as I lewdly hump at him.
"You look so damn gorgeous rubbing against me like this. Almost distracts me from the fact that you left your house dressed like a fuckin whore."
The mean words and sharp smack to the inside of my thigh makes me yelp his name pathetically; has me spreading my legs as I try to fuck him through his clothing, already so damn close to beggin him to touch me. The sting of the slap is so welcoming, has my eyes and pussy simultaneously getting wet.
"Look at you, tiny little fuckin skirt.. Bet you woulda showed off all my fuckin curves tonight huh? Would done more than that. What didcha say earlier? You had plans to get some dick tonight?" He asks me, pressing me closer between him and the wall.
Bruce smells so fuckin good, the clean smell of a fresh shower and his Burberry cologne mixing deliciously. That plus the shock of his abrasive approach quickly culminates into wanton need. I can't care that I'm already rendered speechless, that I can only gasp for air like a fish outta water at his filthy words.
"You sure fuckin do. But now you wanna be quiet, cant even answer cause your slidin that little pussy allover my lap. Now you wanna act like your my good girl. Actin like your nothing more than my own little slut. Cant take you constantly goading me into fucking you whenever you see me. I can't goddamn take it anymore!"
He lets go of my throat to drop to his knees and lift my mini skirt up. Doesn't waste a second pulling my silky baby blue thong to the side and slurping at the opening of my pussy. I wail as he messily licks inside of me, his tongue jabbing repeatedly to get inside. Nails of both hands scratching at the wall behind me, I come unglued at the intense pleasure he suddenly forces on me.
"Plee- ahhh! P-pleeeeeea-se! Haah, uhnuhnuhnuhn Bru- ah!!" I stutter out my pleasure as I look down and meet his eyes.
The way he takes me in as he devours has me trembling even more against his mouth. As much as I need this, I'm too fucking sensitive. From the way Bruce stares as he eats me it's obvious he knows; is fucking using it to his advantage as his grips each of my ass cheeks and pulls me onto his mouth and fucks me with his tongue as deep as he can. His filthy moans about how good I taste but how bad I am are muffled against my cunt.
His right hand slides down my smooth brown skin, rubbing and groping my thick thighs. He sensually massages down my leg to my calf before slowly making his way back up to my clenched cheeks. A hard smack resonates through me and I shove upwards off his mouth from the impact. His answering growl as he pulls me backs down is clear: don't fucking pull away again.
"Toomuch! Ohohoh pleeeeeeease Bruce!"
He sends me into a blissful spiral, the intense sensation spiking in my core. I'm begging for the torture to end, for him to make me cum. But he only wiggles his tongue inside me widly as he moves his hands to my pussy lips and spreads them wider so he can get deeper.
My eyes must be at the back of my skull from the force of how they roll eye back. I wordlessly plead for reprieve, which he seems to only delight in. He chuckles heartily into the pink of me as he leers at my tits jiggling underneath my shirt.
I'm sure my souls about to rip out my body when I feel his thumb lightly swipe at my throbbing clit once. The tumultuous orgasm tumbling to the surface frightens me, has me seriously doubting my endurance to take it. So it's no fault of mine that I tug at my bosses short brown locks, ripping his swollen lips from my frantically pulsating pussy. He stares at me through narrowed eyes, his straight nose inna prominent snarl as I apologize profusely.
"Imsorryi'msorryi'msorry!" I rush out with heavy breaths and a heaving chest.
"No the fuck you're not, goddamn brat." He spits out as he stands and lifts me up against his strong chest with hands to the back of my thighs.
Walking me to the conference table, Bruce's sits me down atop it. He says nothing, towering above me as he looks down at while unbuckling his belt. His stare is lecherous while unbottoms his pants, so god damn domineering as he pulls out his twitching monster cock and presses it through the wetness between my legs.
It's not gonna fit, no way it'll fit. His dick is to thick, somehow his tip flaring out to become even wider. It's fuckin scary and thats without describing the girthy shaft. Still, I moan at the breathtaking feeling of him tappin the head at my opening. Even though my sweaty body is tense, my insides quiver rapidly hoping to catch his tip.
"I have a proposal for you too, y/n.." He leans in close to whisper against my lips, blocking me from the view of his fat cock at my entrance. "Your gonna take this dick like a good girl and I might not fuck your pretty little mouth and bust down your throat till your unconscious. You agree to the terms?"
I nod slowly, helplessly, my gaze briefly straying to his swollen mouth. Knowing how he ate me moments before and the way he damn near pins me to the table now that he's not letting me go till he's done.
"Look at you being a good girl for once." He compliments, smacking my sensitive clit with his rigid dick over and over.
My eyes roll back as I shout Bruce's name repeatedly, feeling my orgasm race back to the surface with double the intensity. My frame shakes like a leaf underneath him as my back arches and I dig my nails into the wood table beneath me. My mean ass boss only slaps his dick at my pulsing little gem quicker, drinking in my frantic reaction.
He greedily soaks in my pitiful body in the throes of the best orgasm I've ever received. The smile on his face is sinister, so damn dangerous as he replaces his dick with his thumb, sliding the head of his dick to my opening and shoving between my drenched, unprepared fluttering walls.
Time almost seems to stand still, as my lids fly open and I choke, trying and failing to pull in a gasping breaths against his pretty pink lips as he bullies his cock into my pussy while I'm still cumming. He groans like a wounded animal and I'm fucking alarmed that he actually gets in on the first push, though no explanation is needed for the unbearable pressure weighing in my gut.
My legs kick out behind him uncontrollably while I grip onto his suit jacket for dear life and stare at him with big teary eyes. Try as I might to inch off Bruce's cock by scooting backwards, I don't get very far before he's gripping me and pullin me back onto his leaking dick by my neck again.
"Keep. Fuckin. Still!"
Each word accentuated by him sliding in and out of my little hole. His other hand holds himself above me as he fucks into me roughly. My head thrashes side to side as I apologize nonstop. Hair from my two buns loosens and falls, sticking to the perspiration on my face.
"Oooooooh fuck, I can't believe I waited so loooong! Ah, ah, ah, pussyfeelssogood! Uhn, fuck y/n! Not gonna last, too damn tight.. so weeet! Haaaaah!"
His cock digs deep, finally in a bit more than half way as he pumps into me ferociously. It's so fuckin amazing, nothings ever felt so good, so intense. I light years beyond coherence as drool unknowingly seeps from the corner of my mouth as I share my pleasure into the air. All my strength is split between processing the sensations between my legs and breathing.
"Fuuuuuck, sweety.. Gonna make me nut so damn hard. You want that? Fill that pretty little pussy till I can't anymore?
Bruce's grip around my throat tightens and it's a bit hard to breath but my normal reaction of instant panic is delayed by the dizzy feeling filling my head. I'm unaware of the suffocating clenches my pussy gives the big dick invading my insides as he huffs and puffs his pleasure at my ear.
"Ooooh shit, your so perfecttome! Haaaa! Mmmm sweetheart, made for me huh? Uhn, thaaaas a good fuckin girl!"
His back hunches him over my body as he stabs in to the hilt, grinding his pelvis into mine as holds my seizing body to the table. The sudden unlimited pressure against my button sends me off; I take in as much air as I can unaware that my hips lightly hump back at him. Black and white spots dot in and out of my vision as the pressure in my tummy explodes through my battered cunt.
I squirt all over Bruce's suit, sliding my hands through his freshly cut hair down his neck to claw at his thick, muscular shoulders. His name is all I know as I desperately cry it out more times than I can count. No man has fucked to the point of tears and I'd tell him that if I could formulate sentences at the moment.
But I know he's in the same boat as his fingers loosen around my neck and he bites his lip hard, eyebrows drawn together from the way my pussy milks the cum from his cock.
"Oh heeell.. Fuuuuuuuuck, take it honey! Aaaaahhh, that's it, allforyouy/n! Take this nut like a gooooood giiiirrrrl!" He groans, eyes locked where we connect as he continuously pumps into me at his leisure.
It feels foreign but oh so fuckin welcoming as large splashes of cum gush my already soakin wet pussy. My needy insides clasp at Bruce's cock as if demanding he shoot more. He definitely fulfills his promise of stuffing my puffy cunt till she leaks.
"Mmmmm.. oh my fuckin God princess. You okay?" He asks between tiny grunts of pleasure, his hips still slowly pumping his cock into me.
I'm not sure how he expects me to answer; my lungs feel tight and my head is so fuzzy. I fight to steady my breathing, fingers remaining inna death grip around his shoulders. I finally feel the heavy trails of make up streaking down my chest and my wavy hair sticking to my sweaty temples. I know I looked fucked out to the max.
I can't even muster energy to cover myself as my head falls limply to the right and I see a group of men staring lewdly at us through the glass walls, each with a tented bulge in their business attire.
Bruce's phone beeps at that moment and he leans over slightly to read the text aloud.
"We agree to your terms of the proposal." He says with a dazzling smile.
Yeah, I fucking bet..
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nobodysdaydreams · 3 months
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Y'ALL I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN. WTF? WTF?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
(Or my reaction to Episodes 53-54 of Wolf359).
Welcome back dear readers! Thank you for enjoying my reaction to the Mission Mishap and mini episodes, which were shorter and a lot easier to fit into my busy schedule. I try to make sure I have time to type out good live quality reactions for you guys, so thanks for your patience on this.
Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.
@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom @lovelyladylavie
Episode 53: Dirty Work
This episode has gotten a lot of hype from the mutuals. I hope that means Pryce and Cutter are actually gonna bother to show up this time. The two of them did their whole ominous “we’re going to space” thing at the very beginning of this season, well hurry up and go to space then since you care so much! Instead they gave us enough time for Doug to have his radio show arc, which (while it was necessary, and I enjoyed it), just goes to show how much time Pryce and Cutter actually put into this. Which should be evident given that it has taken them at least this long to get to space despite it being their “life’s work” (and for some “higher purpose” they’ll probably monologue about too no doubt 🙄. Hopefully they keep their speech shorter or at least more interesting than Whiskey Boy). Laziest villains of all time sending other people to space the dirty work. Which happens to be the episode title, look at that.
And if I had to guess who is going to be doing Pryce and Cutter’s dirty work, my money’s on Whiskey Boy. Well, actually, my money’s on free-will deprived Hera, but I hope I’m wrong.
Well this is rare. No preview ads to skip through. Huh.
Oh, Minkowski 🥺. We know you didn't want to kill anyone. Don't worry, I will give you justice in fanfic if the show doesn't give it to you here.
HILBERT. Shut up. Even in death, you still don't get it do you? Minkowski has a right to be upset. Even if anyone on this ship makes it back to earth, they are still gonna be extremely traumatized.
Doug, what are you up to now?
And no, Lovelace. Minkowski is not okay. None of you are okay.
"23rd time is the charm!" That's the spirit, Doug! 🥰
Oh right, the reset that Hera has been putting off.
Lol, Hera's "Good Boy". There you go Doug. You see, he can be taught.
"Get him to do what he's told!" Well that would likely be Hera's department.
Not the bottles of beer song. I swear, why are Kepler and Jacobi even still here? What are they contributing? 🍻 "Don't do anything stupid?" a bit late for that.
Um...what is this? Who was that? Wait is that Maxwell's ghost talking to Jacobi?
Do not be a bad guy again Duck Boy. ���� That is how your friend got killed, remember? Do you want to be a dead duck?
Well at least we got some music. Nice work, Doug! 🎶
VERIFICATION CODE WHISKEY. a;lsjkfklsdjfk I KNOW Kepler came up with that one. I don't care that it's a legit code, I know it is, but he probably puts Whiskey in every single secret code of his.
Doug. GET BACK INSIDE.
Not demolitions. Jacobi. You fool. You impulsive explosive dumb-dumb. Do not blow up the ship you're on.
"Now I may not be as smart as my late colleague" understatement of the century Jacobi.
Oh great. He's willing to kill them all. Fantastic. Oh and Kepler's coming too. OH. Because Minkowski killed Maxwell and Kepler let her die and had no remorse. Jacobi wants revenge. Oh. Oh no...
"How's your day going?" been better.
Kepler's speech...so was he working with Jacobi this whole time? Convincing plan if he was, but I gotta say Kepler, I don't know if that's gonna work as smoothly for you this time around. Jacobi seemed pretty upset, and there would be no reason for him to reveal that now when he has the upper hand.
SHOOT HIM!
AS:Jlkfjsdlkfjlkds I KNEW IT!!!!!!!
"Pretty please with sugar on top" oh we're going there.
And after hearing about how Kepler bought him explosives...this whole betrayal thing really did go to the next level with them.
"Is this an elaborate prank to teach me a very important lesson?" askjdfkld;jf I love you Doug. 😂 And that would be hilarious.
Poor Doug...that's it Doug! Go into the star! That's what they want! Why do they want this? Who knows. It is weird though. They presumably know that humans die if they do that, and if they wanted them dead there's a million more efficient ways to kill them.
"Blow Kepler's brain's out" "Jacobi...where are you going with this?" Wow, Whiskey Boy really IS slow, isn't he? Maybe it wouldn't have killed him to shed a few fake tears at Maxwell's funeral.
"He was the one who put her in the line of fire, and you should be the one who has to do it."
That does make sense. Because Kepler won't care about shooting Minkowski or anyone else, and while Minkowski certainly wouldn't enjoy dying, she's still tortured with guilt over the fact that she killed Maxwell. But force Minkowski to relive that trauma, intentionally and painfully, and taking everything from Kepler...oh man Duck Boy really did think this through.
"You complete and utter idiot..." YES PUNCH HIM JACOBI! Unconventional grieving process is an understatement.
"I don't want to kill anyone" "Else" ouch.
And yeah... this is Jacobi's "2 birds one bullet solution"
Jacobi is unhinged.
"This is it. Either she shoots you or I kill everyone" yeah it really is over.
Jacobi. You don't need to do this. You really don't.
PHONE CALL?
No. Do not call Pryce and Cutter. Do not call them Jacobi, I don't care if you want to tell them off do not give them information do not call them. Do not call anyone. Maxwell is dead, who does he even have to talk to? Is he gonna call his family? Maxwell's family?
Kepler begging Minkowski for a backup plan...Jacobi really DID beat him...he's nothing now. Though to be fair, he didn't have much to begin with.
"There's no bomb?" Then...what is...oh no. Jacobi what is this game?
"I'm not crazy, that stuff's dangerous!" 😂 Why is Jacobi evil Doug sometimes? I swear if it wasn't for the circumstances they would be friends.
"You've been through plenty, just sit tight. It will all be over soon." I don't know if that's meant to reassure Lovelace or sound ominous Jacobi, but if it was the former, you really gotta work on not sounding like the bad guy.
"Blue, being sucked in, process, killed the original captain Lovelace...the door." There you go Doug! I knew he could figure it out! His science fiction knowledge really comes in handy.
That is a big risk, especially since you don't know what these aliens want, or their history with slimy business man and his evil science girlfriend!
Yep. Leap of faith. Scary stuff, especially when your trust has been broken before.
"Why couldn't it be snakes" Doug, be careful what you wish for.
"How could he? After everything we've been through?" Kepler, be serious. You stalked him, brought him expensive Whiskey and sweet talked a desperate and broken man into joining your murder organization, showed him creepy levels of favoritism at various points in time (especially coming from you of all people), and had zero remorse when you let his best friend get killed. That's what you've been through.
"Will he blow us up" "Yeah." "Can you override his override?" "No. He and Maxwell handled that. I trusted them." Yes, Kepler. And they trusted you. Now one of them is dead. Let's think about this for a moment. I'm sure if we all put our heads together, we can get to the bottom of this mystery of why Jacobi has betrayed you for apparently no reason.
Is Kepler's back up plan shooting Jacobi? OH MY GOSH IT IS...AND YOU WONDER WHY HE BETRAYED YOU? Kepler, you moron, he's probably listening to this entire conversation. He might be deciding which side he wants to back at this very moment. Now is the time to act really really sad about Maxwell and very very broken up about how you treated Jacobi. Not openly admit that you threw Maxwell's life away to get what you wanted, and that you'd throw Jacobi's life away to save your own skin. Otherwise, Jacobi might just end up shooting YOU when he walks through that door.
"Who is putting your station in danger?" You Kepler. You are doing this.
"For once in your life, shut up" About time someone said that Kepler.
"You're hurt, we all are. But you don't have to kill anyone." Oh Minkowski, I know you're trying but Duck Boy is not in a rational space right now. He's literally trolley probleming you right now.
Okay now Minkowski is going insane. Minkowski stop. JACOBI STOP.
If Kepler was a better man he would shoot himself to end this instead of muttering "this is crazy" at the drama that he is directly responsible for. He really does not know when to keep his mouth shut, does he?
"It's not too late to change your mind." YES MINKOWSKI. TEACH THEM GOOD MORALS. It's never too late. Thank you, finally, someone gets it.
"After everything he's done, after everything you've done?" Yes, and after everything you've done too, Jacobi.
Tell him Minkowski. "I know who you're angry at. It's you. Because you could have backed down but you didn't. We both did. We killed two people. And that's eating you up inside."
I love this so much.
"We kill them. Whatever orders, whatever they did, we did it. That's what the riddle teaches you. However you make the choice, you still make the choice. The blood is still on your hands." "You know what doesn't help? MORE BLOOD"
The cycle ends here! YES MINKOWSKI!
"What will?" Jacobi is listening! Come on Duck Boy. You're waddling your way there. You can do it!
"Twenty bucks says I figure it out first" is this really happening???? Is this really happening???? Please tell me Duck Boy doesn't relapse. I need someone to come to reason.
She never had a bullet. You never had a bomb.
YES, Shut Kepler up! FINALLY the team up we deserve.
I'm glad Lovelace and Minkowski are checking in on each other. And you two both deserve command. You need each other. You all need each other.
Oh Hera. She missed the whole thing. 😂
"What did I miss?" Well, Jacobi is a sort of good guy now (or at least an ally), Kepler still sucks, and everyone forgot about Doug.
Wait. DOUG WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
NO DOUG. NO DOUG NO. AT LEAST GO BACK TO THE SHIP AND TALK IT OUT WITH THEM FIRST.
Well that WAS a wild ride. Maybe one of my favorite episodes so far. I can see why y'all were hyping it up.
Episode 54: The Watchtower
Huh. No more pre-episode previews again. And who is this?
Oh Doug. Oh dear. Doug, you poor thing, I'm glad you had a breakthrough but you probably should have talked this through with everyone first.
Doug. Oh Doug. You're the main character and there are a lot of episodes left. You can't just casually throw yourself into the star midway through the season and die like that.
Something is coming out of the star? Reaching out towards, Doug? Oh boy. Well...
...yikes. What is he saying?
Hera is probably listening to this like "oh Doug...Doug what did you do?"
I love how Doug is still talking to Hera. 💕 "Any objections? Good girl." Well that certainly parallels the last chapter...
Wait. Two more stars? Triple star system? That's pretty cool.
Um. What is that? Aliens? ...hopefully nice aliens?
...or not. Oh dear.
...and um. Where is Doug now? Woke up? Woke up from WHAT?
Did the aliens put Doug back in the ship?
Or...is this now clone Doug? I hope not.
Well at least there's breathable air and gravity in this alien hotel.
Mirror? Yeah that is a creepy touch. Considerate, yet creepy.
Self-repairing mirror? Again, cool but creepy. And Doug is prefect for this. They got the movie from YOU MIND Doug. They built this creepy hotel for you, I'm guessing.
And when the alien shows up, I bet it's gonna be one that looks like you or your loved ones given that they used your voice already.
What was that noise?
Are they just keeping him there?
"Let's get our probe on" Doug...they are. What do you think this is?
Yep...alien Doug. Hi alien Doug. :) 👋👽
"Tell me this isn't where I die and you take my place. My dad always said I'd die if I wasn't more careful..." it's alright Doug, I've been told that myself plenty of times.
What?
Words. Speak more words.
Why do they need Doug to speak words?
Ah yes. Mirroring and learning. That's what they want. But why? Why Doug?
Crippled by a language limited by what? Yet achieving interstellar momentum? Uh...what? Symbiological base set of language?
Doug singing the alphabet 😂
DIE????
What is die? The concept is unknown? Oh...oh dear. Explain that it's a bad thing Doug. Explain that it's a very bad scary thing.
"I hate it when Kepler and Jacobi are right" Don't we all Doug, don't we all?
Stops existing!
Incomplete understanding of the universe.
Yes, yes, to dust you shall return, no matter is created or destroyed it simply changes form, but you seem very unnaturally calm about this.
All matter is reused and repurposed. Ceasing from existence is not possible. ...well that's true...but...YOU are something else now. YOU are gone. Something else is in your place now.
Bob. Bob. "Limited time?" "Unsuitable for his biology?" So you DO know what death is. Because you understand that a place unsuitable for his biology = no Doug.
Wait. In the NETWORK? WE? Bob. Are you a hive mind?
"You learned to speak English?" "Correct. It has also lead to debate over whether YOU can speak English." Dang, they really came for him there.
The process? Why are you evaluating Doug?
"Terms you can understand may take some time" Well for super intelligent beings, you should be smart enough to dumb it down.
Don't like that laugh. "A place very very far away from here." Interesting.
"The farthest point away from civilized space"
I see. And what exactly does civilized space look like?
"Discomfort should pass quickly" time is relative, so I hope you're right, Bob.
He gave Doug knowledge? Well, that might be a good way to one up Cutter.
Okay transfer between stars...I'm guessing no, because they didn't use the sun. Huh. I was correct.
Red = no, Blue = go. Well, Bob, sometimes the basics are all you need.
Another species. Rearrange matter? I see. So they are basically aliens with god-like powers that join together to form a superpower.
And they're recruiting humans...but they seem unimpressed so far. Why would they...oh.
They want the music don't they? They've never...they don't have music, but they like it for some reason.
Well then just send them up a band, seems like an easy solution.
Examination, evaluation...surrogates of specimens?
"Unnecessarily dramatic description" "The wolf doesn't even know it's a wolf!" "We arranged atoms" "You brought her back from the dead" "The distinction is irrelevant" Doug, please explain it to them. They really did do Lovelace dirty.
OH MY GOSH THIS IS EXACTLY LIKE WHAT CUTTER DOES TO PEOPLE. Spy on them, and if he likes them, they get to join his special secret club. And if they don't like you...I think we both know what happens Doug. They DO have a concept of death. They just prefer not to call it that.
"Ideally isolation" Well at least they are semi-ethical.
"If they can't be isolated" "redistribution into different atoms" SEE I KNEW IT. They call it redistribution because they can't accept the moral idea of killing people.
"They are given a new purpose." Bob...Bob this is immoral. This is horrifying.
"Terminology is inadequate" his terminology is spot on Bob.
"Our interest in your species is not moral. It is technological" Yeah Bob, I think you made that VERY clear when you said you were willing to kill everyone on Earth if they didn't play nice.
You don't deserve our music Bob. Not one note. Which is...a sentence I never thought I would type as a reaction to this show, but here we are I guess.
They can turn back time, escape death, and traverse space, but they don't have music Doug! Most of their language isn't auditory. They have it, apparently, but not to the extent where they'd develop it.
Commander Zhung...valued the tech more than anything.
Oh. I'd like to have met Commander Zhung (I hope I'm spelling that right). She sounds...she sounds nice if that was her reaction to hearing music for the first time.
"You haven't figured out sound recording?" No, Doug. "The music?" There you go, Doug.
And um...I think the aliens might be more into the oldies and by oldies I mean the classics Doug. The old school classics. Stick to classical music. Not sure they're ready for rock and roll or rap or pop or country.
In time they'll learn more about each other, slowly. Okay...so they have some time. That's good. 14,000 YEARS? Oh no wonder they don't fear death. They live a ridiculously long time. And yeah Kepler is in for a treat.
And then...he woke up.
But um...where has he woke up? Near the star? But where is the ship?
"Everything is completely under control"
Why...why does Minkowski sound like a robot? I mean, she usually sounds pretty strict before she snaps at Doug for risking his life, but the actress sounds distinctly creepy here, I don't like it.
Creepy music? Hera struggling and begging him to run?
Oh no. Oh no no no no no...Cutter and Pryce came didn't they? Oh no...Oh no...
Oh Cutter, you bastard.
And I don't have time to listen to anymore tonight. Or this weekend, or for a while, gosh DANG IT, BUT THAT WAS SO GOOD.
Well, I hope you guys enjoy this. I have a lot of emotions so I'm gonna post this with no edits and scream about it in a discord chat somewhere. Bye!
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Dear Ken,
I have to wonder *what it is, specifically* you guys expect to happen. There’s always a mini cooper at what the “best fit” junction in my regular walk route seems to be. There’s a gap toothed idiot with what appears to be a blocking diagram waiting around the library to sit kitty corner at the computer tables. When he can’t clear his throat every few minutes in the background. At present he was the only standing person in the room when I walked upstairs.
I don’t have guilt or shame, which forms the basis for social consciousness and/or humility. And that’s a personal problem.
So I’m not sure *what’s supposed to happen*. 
“Do something else, somewhere else” had long been the byline because your son was supposed to be from the socioeconomic stratosphere. Problem being, you’re sort of “related” to Oregon’s equivalent to Standard Oil back in the Gilded Age, making Ashland, and moreover the region proper, “Company Town”. Now he’s married with lots of kids after decade(s) of government responsibilities. Is that enough?
A goal I started to observe when were “relocated” back to Talent, we’ll say, was that there were a lot of hopeful “not Bryan’s” for me to take up with. None of them panned out because it seemed very petty for an organization such as that to be meddling in middle school classrooms. After that, the “story” turned to alternately trying to mute the merit in my activities and/or the visible worth of social interaction with me beyond token (unlucky childhood friend etc) status. And yet, Bryan and I remained friends. After living in the closest thing Ashland has to resembling a ghetto, I took up at “the Ashland store” following Cantwells. An obscure location dead-end job off I-5. I thought that was enough obscurity. I guess not, because I had endless coworkers and customers about Ashland to talk to; maybe that didn’t sit so well my aunts who are long-time friends of your sister. I got promoted after avoiding it. And again. Even with all those rollover injuries from the “skid turn that ended the Montero” I limped my way through.
As Ashland is a theater town, I question where the wardrobe, dialogue, blocking diagram and setting is, for me. I don’t see where “we’d really like to see...” having any kind of tangible impact when “The Company” happens to be the largest donor on and off the books to social services, the sum of many, many, shell companies, real-estate and otherwise, and also the largest secondary employer around (though all the subsidy business automotive wholesaling generates). I’m *certainly* not looking for cooper cars. Or people who are supposed to look like me in profile or otherwise. At least I get the vicarious Chinese experience on account of it though.
Some of this has become concerning in the last couple years, because I thought it would go with mom and her poisonous relationship with her step-sisters. And it did not. All of these things (cars meeting me at intersections, expy types, proselytizing attempts that don’t even pretend to be anything but) cost time and money, and more, utilize other people’s stuff like a public messaging utility.
I don’t do hints and impressions, to reference that pesky problem with social consciousness. So nothing happens where there was I guess, supposed to be some kind of emotionally motivated response leaning in any number of “dog and pony” directions. Shoji’s “secret” not secret seating chart comes to mind in fronting an experience from a set of notes. Aside from that, I find it VERY coincidental that the Ashland addition to the Carnegie library is roofed *exactly* like May’s room addition out on the ranch. After passing “wood theory” on applegate way. There’s no love lost on that place for me; a lot of bad memories.
The cars, the expys, the staged stale discussions with religious bent now and again at the library, they don’t speak to specific problems. 
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returnofevolniki · 2 years
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So I've been doing a lot of work on this future Evol Empire of mine and I wanted to do everything right including my mini blog! I wanted to introduce myself, explain my vision I guess, explain why I'm starting out with a mini blogs on Tumblr, and provide contact information BUT right now I'm pissed and since I'm pissed and it's Friday I am hereby declaring every Friday from now on to be: RAGEFUL FRIDAY (keep in mind that this name may change!) So every Friday from now on I'm going to post a rage about whatever... whoever is pissing me off! So keep your eyes open today I have at least 2 bastard ass platforms that have it coming today! Eventually my rages will be turned into a list for everyone to use as a resource, you know a rage list for places to stay away from and a respect list for places that are ok in my book, lol! (I'm not sure yet which day of the week is gonna turn into respect day where I do the same and post about places and people who deserve a shot out I figure I'll just wait for it to hit me like it did today!) As for the other stuff, I promise to work on getting it up but my living situation is very unstable at the moment it's kind of hard staying on top of things when I have no clue where I'm gonna sleep every nite! And PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE that was not a call to action or a plot to get sympathy, it's an example of what this aspect of my Evol Empire is about, brutal truth, I'll share my completely fucked up life with you both past and present while you watch and participate in my beautiful redemption! I'll let you in on all my secrets; every time I fell and got back up, things I've done to survive or thrive it won't be long before you know it all! Part of the reason for it is selfish, I admit, opening up gives me a chance to let the bad shit out and keep it from festering, creating cancer, it allows me to vent! The other part, though, is the better part of me and it's something I sort of went to school for but also sort of not, something sort of close to a field I once worked in before I went out and got myself a nifty criminal record, oddly enough with all the higher education I've had (I'm a semester away from two different bachelor's degrees one in literature and one in behavioral science) it's something I learned about myself in rehab of all places! I learned that I was really really good at taking the worst parts of my past (and I'll get to that eventually but I've already admitted to being a homeless drug addicted felon who failed miserably at 2 possible civilian type futures I really don't wanna scare you away I mean this is my first real post and look at the shit that just fell out of my mouth!) So...Oh, yeah so I discovered I had a certain talent for taking my past, my shame, my own fall from grace and 1) unapologetically blurting that shit out cuz truthfully I just have no shame! And 2) telling the worst, darkest parts of my history in such a way that not only do I make it sound like a bunch of hilarious escapades bit by doing that I show others who have similar emotional scars but actually do carry shame and remorse, that there's nothing to be sorry for and that there is power in owning your history, EVERY SINGLE PART OF IT! So that's it, my first official post! I hope it was enjoyed, feel free to comment! Keep your eyes open for today's rage post and stay on your toes I'll be coming a lot more regularly now!
LOVE ALWAYS, EVOLNIKI
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shinsouskitten · 3 years
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Hi, so I just read your Bakugou NSFW alphabet, and I was wondering could you do one for Karma Akabane? There's a lack of content for him on Tumblr in general compared to Bakugou and I'm THIRSTY.
ME TOO HONEY. love me some sadistic redhead moments
also sorry for this being like RLLY late 😔 i hope you're not too dehydrated
Warnings: nsfw, mdni, this one is dirty
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Okay hear me out. He’s kinda shit at aftercare. He tries, bless him, but he’s just not really a nice guy (I love the guy but c’mon). Likely the most you’ll get is half a glass of water he forgot was on his bedside table and a towel to clean yourself off. At least, that’s all you’ll get while you’re awake. Once you’re asleep he’ll clean you properly (as well as he can without waking you up) and make sure you’re lying comfortably so you don’t wake up too stiff
There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re okay (and alive) then just lay there stroking your hair until you come (no pun intended) back to him
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
He likes his hands, especially around your throat or gripping your hips like a vice as he completely ruins you. Something makes me think Karma is a neck guy, cause he can cover them with hickies that you can’t hope to hide unless you have some really good concealer. He’s a bit of a vampire
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Everywhere and anywhere. Karma loves to make a mess, and then constantly tell you how dirty you are and demand that you clean yourself up. One of his favorite moments is after he cums inside you, and warns you not to waste a single drop. If you do, oh boy, I guess he’ll just have to fill you up again
D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)
Karma doesn’t really have any dirty secrets. If he wants to try something out, he’ll tell you. Really he’s shameless. He’s not gonna hide anything from you, even the darkest thoughts born from his deepest depravity
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not many people would be able to go a night with Karma, cause he can get a little intense, so before you he’s not incredibly experienced. He’s not a virgin by any means, but he hasn’t had the chance to try out most of the crazy things he wants to try. So for the most part he knows what he’s doing, but when it gets to the really fun stuff… well it’ll be a learning curve for the both of you
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Karma doesn’t really have a favorite position, simply because you never stay in one for long enough
G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)
If you whine, or beg, he will laugh at you (the low chuckle 😩). This dude just really enjoys mocking you, but he’s still very serious about pleasuring you
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Tbh he doesn’t really put too much effort into grooming. Mostly he’ll just try to keep it trimmed, and occasionally he’ll shave. Don’t worry tho, even though he doesn’t groom like crazy, he still keeps everything clean
I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)
He’s a fucking sadist. Don’t expect him to kiss your forehead and shower you with rose petals cause that’s just not Karma. This man will fuck you until you’re drooling and shaking and unable to talk with absolutely no remorse
J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)
Honestly likes it a little too much. Is there such a thing as a masturbation addiction, cause if so, Karma has it. He has an incredibly high drive, and you’re not always there (or able to keep up with him) so if the dick goes up, the hand goes down
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He puts the S in BDSM
L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)
Once again, anywhere and everywhere. He’s also not shy about being caught
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)
When you talk back to him. Did someone say brat tamer?
N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)
He’ll try anything once, so don’t be shy to suggest something. This man is truly depraved, so anything you could think of, he’s thought of worse
O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)
Receiving, 100% receiving. And he’s not gentle either. Get ready for a face fucking cause he will use you until he’s satisfied. If he’s going down on you, it’s because he wants to overstimulate you and see those pretty little tears run down your cheeks
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He will break your back. ‘Nuff said
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)
Karma looooooooves quickies, especially in public. There’s something about being so needy that you just can’t wait and the thrill and risk of being caught by unsuspecting onlookers
R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)
He once fucked you through a midnight showing of Fifty Shades of Gray, as a demonstration that that movie knows nothing about the real good stuff (his words). Surprisingly, no one in the cinema caught on to what was happening in the back seats, and even if they heard something, they most likely ignored it as part of the film. So yeah, he’s down for some risk
S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)
It just doesn’t stop. Like- HOW CAN ONE PERSON HAVE SO MUCH STAMINA?! TF?! If you’re not literally shaking he’s not stopping (unless you ask him too of course, he may be an ass but he’s not a completely terrible person)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)
Oh my. If it exists, he has it. And he’s not shy about trying toys on himself either. He’s very open to new things so it’s not uncommon that you come home to find three new boxes on the kitchen counter and Karma standing over them with a maniacal grin
U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)
Dude. It’s Karma
V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)
A small groan here and there, but most of the volume coming from your bedroom will be your own screams. The neighbors know his name, they’ve heard it so much it’d be impossible not to. He uses a fair amount of dirty talk, but he keeps most of his own sounds quiet. He wants to hear your voice, not his own
W = Wild card (a random headcanon)
Now cause it’s not technically a dirty secret I left this one until now. One time he had a dream where you topped him and he woke up harder than he’s ever been in his life. He’s way too proud to ever admit wanting to see you take the lead, but if you surprise him and steal the reins, he may just protest a little less
X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)
Mini Karma stands tall at a good 7 inches. He’s slightly leaner than average, but there’s a slight curve that has him drilling into your sweet spot with each and every thrust
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
You know Mt Everest? Yeah? Keep going up
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
With his stamina levels it’s highly unlikely he’d fall asleep before you. There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re still alive
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I Hope I Never Lose You, Hope It Never Ends
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Summary: Spencer and Reader are roommates, but she's harboring a secret that has the power to ruin everything good she has.
Content Warning: Kissing while drunk
Word Count: 3.6K
Note: I made this Boyband Reid for Nat bc she's been helping me trudge through this. This fic has taken me nearly two months to get through, so I hope you enjoy it. I appreciate hearing your thoughts on this! I have a couple fic/mini series that I am excited to get out too!
JOIN TAGLIST | PERVIOUS FIC | MASTERLIST | THOUGHTS? SHARE 'EM? |
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I Hope I Never Lose You, I Hope It Never Ends
The weather has gotten cold enough for you to draw shapes on the windows. You breathe out warm air, making the window fog up and drag your finger over the condensation. The melted snowflakes sparkle from the glow of the Christmas lights. You try to soak it all in. The smell of Spencer’s shampoo, that smells like something familiar, as he dozes off on your shoulder, the feel of the frosty air on your skin when you wait for the cab, the sound of laughter at the bar when Spencer would pull you in closer and closer. His hands would flirt with your skin, barely grazing to be considered touching at all, but leaving your skin warm nonetheless.
A sudden brake jolts Spencer from his alcohol-induced snooze. He stretches his long legs and lanky arms in the cramped cab. The seat cushions are ripped, patched together with duct tape, and the heat doesn’t work and it seems like the driver is hitting every single red light. And yet it’s probably the most romantic place you’ve ever been. Spencer’s hand rests on your knee and you move close to him, hoping that if he questions your uncharacteristic affection, you can use the excuse of being cold in the taxi cab.
“Do you think it’s weird that we’re still roommates,” Spencer asks, the lingering worry filling the silence. The question catches you off guard; in the 5 years you’ve been living with Spencer neither one of you ever mentioned the strangeness of the situation.
“No, do you?” you ask, suddenly wondering if your arrangement with Spencer is weird. It’s not like you can’t afford to live on your own, even though it started that way all those years ago. Now it’s more companionship, but somewhere along the lines the companionship morphed into love.
You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment you knew you loved Spencer. Loving him is as natural as breathing. You can’t remember a time before you loved him and you sure won’t know a time when you don’t love him.
“I mean we both hate change so us not being roommates would mean that we’d have to move. And moving makes me anxious and when I’m anxious it makes you anxious. So it’s like a big pile of anxiety that neither of us handle well,” you say, your nervous rambling uncharacteristic when you’re around Spencer.
“I guess so,” Spencer says, “It’s just, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I really can’t imagine a future without you there with me,”
“So what does that mean?” you ask, daring to put your heart out there. It might get fractured into a million little pieces, but it doesn’t matter. Your heart was always his to break.
“What do you mean what does it mean?,” Spencer says, his head still heavy on your shoulder as the taxi takes you home to Cornelia Street, “I’m so drunk that your metaphors are really confusing, Y/N,”
You chuckle, seeing Spencer let loose is always a good thing to see. From the first time you’ve met him, he was nothing but a tall wall of bricks. Yet, slowly he allowed you to peel away the heavy bricks. One by one till all that remained was the real Spencer, the very same Spencer with the messy brown hair and sad eyes. The Spencer that you loved and the Spencer that’s been through too much.
“It means, Spencer,” you say, darting your eyes towards him as the cab stops at the red light, “that you can’t say things like that,”
“Like what?” Spencer asks, clearly so drunk that even though he’s the smartest person in all of this city, he’s the dumbest in this cab, “Come on, Y/N. You know what I mean. You always know what I mean,”
“Just forget it, Spence. We’re both drunk and tired. And I just really want to go to bed,” you say, turning to face the window. He doesn’t reply after that, getting the message that you want to be left alone with your thoughts. He does, however, reach down for your hand, squeezing it as he brings it to his lips. Spencer leaves the tiniest kiss on the back of your hand. His lips barely touch your skin, so you’re not sure if you can even consider it a kiss. You don’t pull back. You love him too much to pull away from his kiss, even if his kiss will be the death of you.
You watch as the cab rushes by the people on the street. Hopeful couples that linger on street corners just because they can’t take another second without holding hands or being close in some way or another. Elderly people, with decades of experience, still holding hands. You crave that familiarity, the way they love without hesitation, without pause. And you just might be brave enough to think that one day you can find it with Spencer, even if today you can hardly look him in the eyes.
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The first thing you noticed about him was the way he ended his sentences like it was a question. It was a clear sign of lack of self confidence. Why someone who looked like him didn’t lack confidence was lost on you. From his perfectly pink lips that had a perpetual purse to his soulful brown eyes that flickered to a charming green in the sunlight, the man who sat across from you was nothing short of beautiful.
“Besides, the odd hours will mean you’ll hardly see me,” he chuckles wryly, “And I’m clean, my Aunt Ethel said that makes me husband material. Not that you’re looking for a husband. I mean, I’m not going to be making messes,” Spencer says, flushing crimson as he attempts to save himself from embarrassment.
“That’s good to know,” you say, looking down at the table between you. Spencer fiddles with his fingers, clearly unsure if you’re going to approve of him becoming your roommate. In the split second that you look at him, you know it’s truly impossible to take him in for all he’s worth. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever met someone so attractive, not just physically but emotionally as well. He has an almost vintage quality about him. From the powder blue Volvo that he showed up in to the clearly homemade sweater vests he wears, you look at him and know that he’s going to be the death of you.
“I bake. I mean, I like baking. It’s relaxing and I’m pretty good at it. Well, it’s actually pretty much just chemistry. You know, knowing the temperatures to bake cakes at or how much baking soda is needed for cookies,” Spencer says, his voice trailing as he rambles, “But yeah, I like baking,”
“That’s neat,” you say, forcing a smile as you look at him from across the table. Gesturing to you half eaten chocolate doughnut, you tell Spencer, “You know if your chocolate doughnuts as half as good as these, then I’ll let you be my roommate,”
You break the chocolate doughnut in half again, handing it to Spencer. He smiles, the layer of awkwardness and insecurity still there. You sit together, finishing the doughnuts and coffee and it’s like an outer body experience. Soulmates, the one, the love of your life. The idea that there was an individual out there in this universe that is perfectly suited to you and you are perfectly suited for them hurts your brain. Love, you always assumed, was never in the cards for you. Yet, sitting there eating stale chocolate doughnuts and drinking overly sweet coffee, you have a sneaking suspicion that the tables may have turned.
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In hindsight, you should have known that living with Spencer would only end in heartbreak. You weave your arms through his, holding each other up as you climb the stairs to your apartment. You can feel his side flush against your body and you can’t help but revel in. He feels so solid and strong next to you, familiarity warms your entire body. It’s the kind of safe feeling that you know you’d love to get used to.
“You smell like lavender soap,” Spencer whispers, his nose grazing your cheek as he smells your hair. You hold your breath, not daring to breathe when you feel him so close, “Sometimes I steal your shampoo,” he confesses, his face so close to your face you swear you can feel his lips move against your cheeks.
“Is that right?” you ask, attempting to come off coy when in reality you’re dying inside. You arrive at the door to your apartment. Spencer leans against the door as you rummage through your purse for your keys. Unable to find them, you look up at Spencer in frustration, only to find him smiling like a Cheshire Cat.
“Looking for these,” he says, his voice dropping low as he smiles. He looks so beautiful in the awful hallway light. He must be really beautiful to look like he does while bathed in ghastly fluorescent light. You grab the keys from his hands, noticing how perfectly your hand slips into his. Letting go quicker than you want, you take the keys from his hand to unlock the door. It’s quiet in the hallway, way past the bedtime of your neighbors.
“Did you steal those from my back pocket?” you ask, watching Spencer with a narrowed gaze. You’re not sure if it’s him that’s swaying or if it’s you that’s moving. Whoever it is, the alcohol at the bar is to blame.
“Yup,” he says, his mischievous smile making your cheeks hurt from returning the smile. Your thoughts darken at the very idea of Spencer’s hands slipping into your pocket to swipe your keys. As you unlock the door, you can’t help but wonder what his hands would feel like against your skin without the barrier of your jeans.
Silently, you walk into the shared apartment. Spencer shuffles in, clearly more drunk than you are, on account for the difficulty it is for him to take off his shoes. He hops around, one arm searching for stability while the other flails around ready to brace his fall. Spencer, in all his endearing qualities, was never graceful in the five or so years you’ve known him.
“Spence,” you whine, giggling through a smile as you rush over to catch him, “It’s a good thing you didn’t bring that bartender home. One of you would have probably broken a leg or something,” you tease, even though it hurts your heart to joke about Spencer bringing someone else home.
It stings your soul to imagine a day when it’s not you Spencer rushes home to talk to when his days are hard and long. It’s a fatal wound to realize that one day these apartment walls will be painted over and you’ll only have the memories of Spencer to occupy your dreary heart. It breaks you to know that he’ll never be yours and it breaks you all over to know he can never be the one to glue you back together.
It’s like the room is spinning because all of the sudden you feel your head grow dizzy. All you can smell is the sweet strawberry daiquiris on Spencer’s breath and all can see is his brown eyes in the moonlight. For now you’ll live with stolen glances and innocent touches and familiar teasing.
For five years now, you and Spencer have been a team. You’ve filled in the blanks as you went; through all the wrong ones and all while still hoping to fall into the right arms. And Spencer may not love you back, but you’ll settle for loving him in secret if it means you’ll never lose him. It’s a cyclical torment; being petrified of watching him walk away when you’ve never had him in your arms in the first place. You’re too scared to lose him to have him. Because you’ll never walk Cornelia Street ever again.
“Y/N, I’m too drunk for cryptic puzzles,” Spencer laments, sitting on the edge of the armchair. You stand in front of him, eyelevel. The moonlight casts a halo around his head, reminding that he's an angel heaven sent.
You never believed in angels. Or a heaven. Because life was hell if it was a life where Spencer couldn’t love you back.
“The woman at the bar,” you repeat, staring at his shiny eyes, “You know Mandy. Or Brenda. Whatever her name was. She was really into you,” you tell him, scoffing internally at his look of confusion.
“The one that kept asking to see my badge?” Spencer asks, the double meaning totally lost on him, “What makes you think she wanted to come home with me?”
“She was fawning all over you!” you shout, the booze in your system making you forget civility, “Spencer, open your eyes. She wanted you to take her home…and,” you can feel your face heat as the conversation nears that forbidden territory you never wanted to cross for fear of reality setting in.
Giving you a quizzical look, Spencer’s bemused expression usually amuses you, but now, drunk off something stronger than what’s at the bar, it’s like looking into his eyes in a mirror image of a life that you never could live. After spending five years in a dark night, you think to yourself what’s another year or two or even another five? As long as you don’t have him in the way you dream of, you can’t lose him in the way you fear.
“And what?” Spencer repeats, his voice sounding like he’s swimming deep under blue waters. In the mysterious moonlight, he’s painted an ocean blue, but the kind that’s treacherous and reckless. But then again, you don’t want another shade of blue but him, “Was she like, flirting with me?” Spencer asks, spitting out the word flirt like it’s a disease that he’s immune to.
“You had to notice, Spencer. I mean she wasn’t exactly subtle about it,” you tell him, being subtle about the woman’s lack of subtlety when flirting with Spencer. You’re used to people flirting with him when you go out, in stereotypically beautiful women wanting him has increased ever since he traded in his long curls for something a bit shorter and conventionally handsome.
You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit you loved his new haircut. But you’ve loved him in all his forms and you’ll love him in all the ones that fall like a shadow. You always loved Peter Pan, the boy that never grew up, never lost his dreams. And sometimes you think you’ll be haunted by those dreams that never could. Peter lost Wendy, like you’ll lose Spencer. And you’ll forever wonder if he’ll search for his shadow in grocery lines.
“No, Y/N,” Spencer says, your name sounding like the sweetest thing on his lips. You wonder the countless ways he could say your name; some more sinful and some sweet and some nestled into the happy medium you long to know, “I didn’t notice,” he finishes, something in the tone of his voice making your words catch in your throat.
“Because you probably had too many strawberry daiquiris,” you tease, smiling as you thread your arm around Spencer’s neck, holding him loosely and lovingly. You hope that he can hear it in the silence, the secret message that you’re desperate to reveal.
“No,” Spencer says, shaking his head as his eyes twinkle with the reflection of the Christmas lights.
“Then was it Emily and Shannon’s antics? I mean those two are so ridiculously in love it’s sickening,” you say, the pain of watching Spencer’s close friend and her wife love each other without pause hitting you in the very place Spencer owns, your heart.
“No, even though Emily does turn into a girl with a crush when Shannon is around,” Spencer admits, his voice playful in contrast to your strained one.
“Then why didn’t you notice her flirting with you, Spencer? I mean she was pretty and seemed nice enough, I suppose,” you reason, even though you’re lying through your teeth to the only man you swear you love, “And she was really into you,”
“I didn’t notice, Y/N,” Spencer starts, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling closer to him so you’re wedged between his legs. Somehow, your bodies fit together like a perfect mold. You want to close your eyes so you can pretend that you’re dreaming, because if this is all a dream then it will be real.
“I think we covered that much, Spencer,” you laugh, wrestling with your emotions as you try to quell the thumping in your heart. You close your eyes and you smell Spencer’s cologne. You close your eyes and you still see the Christmas lights that will stay up till well past January. You close your eyes and you can almost imagine what it would be like to kiss him till you’re tired of kissing him.
But then. But then you open your eyes and you can see the imaginary life you’ve built crumble into dust. You open your eyes and you can see yourself stuffing your things you’ve collected over the years into boxes too small to fit your heart and your pain. You open your eyes and it’s all gone, nothing but a heartbreak that will never mend. You’d never walk Cornelia Street again.
“Do you want to know why, Y/N?” Spencer asks, the playfulness in his voice gone and all that remains is a curious timbre that leaves you desperately wanting to figure the unknown parts of him out.
“Yes,” you whisper back, hoping that you’re sealing your fate, hoping that he’ll be the one that whispers the sweet everythings in your ear at night, “Please tell me, Spencer,” you say, hoping that like you, his name is the sweetness thing on your lips.
“It was you,” Spencer confesses, those three little words having more impact than another set of three little words, “It’s always been you, Y/N. From that day at the diner with the chocolate doughnuts to all the nights that we’ve spent on the roof, just you and me. Right now, where are you holding me up because I’m too drunk to think straight. God, Y/N, it’s always been you. I don’t know how you haven’t seen it,”
Red. Yellow. Green.
You used to ask the traffic lights if you’d be alright. If it was green then yes. If red then no. But that fickle yellow light always would say to you ‘I don’t know,’. In the moments that you stare at him, it’s like you’re driving past millions of greenlights, the road ahead screaming in color the loudest yes you’ve seen.
“It was me?” you ask, terrified of his answer and hating the pause in your voice, “You were…”
“Distracted by you,” Spencer says, finishing the one sentence you’ve always wanted him to complete. His hands on your waist burn like a promise of something more. Spencer shifts forward so he can rest his forehead against yours. Your noses brush, sending electric shocks throughout your body. You always thought that couples would be silly and a tab bit gross for thinking that touching their lover could do things like that to them, “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since I’ve known you, sweetheart,”
“Spence,” you whisper, feeling your heart soar into the sky as those little words process in your mind. It flies high above the sky on angel’s wings. And you don’t care if it falls and shatters, because you’ll have someone to stitch it back together, “It’s a little hard for me to wrap my head around you loving me,” you reply, “But even if it’s hard to understand, it’s the easiest thing I’ll ever do,”
“Let me show you,” Spencer says, his beautifully haunted face mysterious and elegant in the blue moonlit shadows, “Let me love you like you deserve,”
Standing there, with Spencer’s arms around your waist and your arms hooked around his neck you feel as if you could fly. You nod, the iota of doubt that courses through your system dissipating as Spencer’s hand comes up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, treating you as if you’re made of glass. The world disappears when he finally kisses you. You let him set the pace for the kiss, wanting to memorize the way his soft hands and even softer lips feel against you.
Slowly, Spencer breaks the kiss and his eyes come into view again. For a second they look scared. You’re at an impasse. The forbidden bridge crosses and burns in one simple touch. The words shared and hearts swapped could never be undone. It’s natural to be hesitant, to question, to wonder.
“Kiss me again,” you command, smiling as Spencer chuckles darkly as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck, “Kiss me again and again till all the other kisses are washed away. Because they mean nothing compared to you, love,”
“Love,” Spencer whispers, a teasing smile and a playful tone breaking across his face, “I think I like the way that sounds,”
He kisses you again, letting himself get lost in the motions. His lips slip past yours, stealing your breath and heart in a single move. Part of you wants to curse your past self for not having the courage to do this sooner, but the more romantic part of you wants to enjoy him for all he’s worth. Spencer, still kissing you, stands to his full height. His hands move down your body, slowly guiding you to the worn out couch.
You’re not sure where this will lead tonight, with both your hearts and souls bare to the elements. But what you are sure of is that Cornelia Street is home.
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visionofhope04 · 3 years
Note
Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason
This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!
This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!
f/n = friend name
Y/G/N = your group name
N/S = news station
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5
---
You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.
Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.
So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.
It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.
The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.
You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.
Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.
Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.
He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?
Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?
Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.
He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?
Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.
He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.
“What do you want Demon Spawn?”
“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”
“You mean my sister?”
“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.
“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”
“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.
“She’s not here.”
“Then where is she?”
“Not here.”
“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”
“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.
“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because I demand to know!”
“Okay and?”
“Tell me!”
“No.”
“Why not!”
“Because you don’t even care.”
“And you do?”
“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.
“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.
“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.
“...” Was Damian’s reply.
“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.
Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.
---
It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.
Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.
You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.
However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.
“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”
You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”
“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”
“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”
“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”
“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”
“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”
“Yes, it is true.”
“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”
“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”
“You’re saying it in the past tense.”
“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”
“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”
“No family is actually perfect.”
“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”
“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”
“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)
---
Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.
He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?
He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.
---
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sleephyjhs · 3 years
Text
When You’re Expecting (Taehyung Headcanon)
pairing: taehyung x pregnant!reader
warnings: mention of fertility & pregnancy complications
note: i’ve been craving to write a bts x pregnancy series for a while so here we go !! if there’s a specific member you’d like to see next, shoot me an ask :)
m.list
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FINDING OUT
even before finding out you were pregnant, you both had so much love for your child
there was nothing either of you could have wanted more than a baby
it was always at the forefront of your mind how much you wanted a little human of your own
it was approaching a year since you began trying seriously
a few false hopes and two miscarriages later, fertility drugs were looking to improve the chances of conceiving
the raging hormones which came with the drugs were all worth the positive test
early september - sickness had hung around your throat for days
headaches lasted longer than usual, and crying at the most mundane things had become an unwelcome habit
in the bathroom cabinet, you’d collected a small stockpile of electronic and stick pregnancy tests
one of them would eventually show positive, right?
taehyung sat on the bathroom tiles with you
waiting two minutes felt closer to waiting two months
he crossed his legs, bouncing his knees impatiently
your knees came to your chin; high hopes weighed heavily on your heart
the alarm set on his phone beeped quietly
your heartbeat rose suddenly to your throat
taehyung reached out for your hand as you turned to read the results
two blue lines - as clear as day
they became less clear as your eyes coated with thick, salty tears
he began to chuckle as his happiness trickled down his cheeks
“we did it baby! we’re gonna have a baby!” he whispered, choked up by his own anticipation
no words were left swirling in your mind
your jaw hung open as though the hinges were faulty
shakily, you lifted the electronic test to triple check
pregnant.
as you crashed into taehyung’s open arms, memories of the past loomed in your mind
it was only inevitable
a positive test was a familiar joy to you both
however this familiar joy had only ever been followed by crippling devastation
as much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but retain maternal caution
however, this time also felt different
taehyung’s spirit, your spirit - it was as though fate didn’t want to disappoint you any more
someone out there decided it was finally your time to grow a mini human to bring into the world
of course, no time was wasted in contacting the maternity clinic
seeing your baby on a screen was now a top priority
just to see their little head, maybe even hear their heartbeat
just to know they were okay
just to know you were keeping them cosy and safe, that’s all you needed
taehyung couldn’t hold his excitement
from leaving the house to reaching the hospital, his toothy grin never wiped from his cheeks
he never said anything at the time since his main focus was always on comforting you
but losing his babies near enough tore him apart
even when you tried to comfort him, taehyung restricted himself just to protect your wellbeing
of course, the worse had already crossed his mind
but it wouldn’t get the better of him
it couldn’t.
you soon learned you were already 6 weeks pregnant
the midwife had to point out where your little baby was hanging out; they were such a tiny thing after all
briefly, you took the opportunity to hear their heartbeat
it was faint over the machine, but fast
there really was a life within you.
“there’s something else, if you just look over here...” the midwife prompted, turning the monitor so you could grasp a better view
taehyung leaned slightly over your chest to peer closely at the smaller monochrome screen
with the mouse, she circled a second bean shaped figure
“the fertility drugs increase the chance of twins. looks like you guys got lucky!”
twins. you were having twins.
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THE PREGNANCY
like with most pregnancies, you were advised to wait until the 12 week milestone to begin announcing your impending delivery
and even though he understood the importance of patience right now, taehyung could hardly contain his excitement
it didn’t help that a little bump had already begun to grow
keeping a secret was much more difficult when the evidence was near impossible to hide
already, taehyung spent early mornings talking to his little angels
telling them stories he seemingly made up on the spot
or even borrowing some from his own childhood
“you know they can’t hear you yet? it’s about 7 weeks until they’ll be able to, honey.”
“i know, i’m just practising for when they can.”
of course, you wouldn’t admit that you did the same when you were alone
you attended more midwife appointments than other expectant mothers might
the pair of you much preferred being on the safer side
in the car, when on a quieter, less congested road, taehyung often reached over to cradle your still-growing bump with a free hand
you slotted your fingertips between his for additional sappiness
“you two have so many people waiting for you here, hmm? many people are already so in love with you both. me and mummy included.”
on a sleepless night, you’d made a small pact with tae
it was a rash decision, but sincere nonetheless
“no matter what, they are always going to know how wanted they were. always.”
taehyung hardly needed reminding of this, but it was still a weight off your shoulders
as you tried to conceive, the pregnancy diet had already been implemented into your daily routines
however now that you were carrying two precious babies, there really would be no more ‘cheat’ days for you
no more extra half cups of coffee on slower mornings
although you usually took over the role of head chef in the house, taehyung dedicated extra effort into preparing you both healthy and yummy foods
sautéd rice with green vegetables and lean meat/tofu appeared to be his go-to
but you still opted to supervise just in case
finally being able to announce your pregnancy was another heavy weight lifted from your mind
the other members were over the moon for you both
particularly when they reminded themselves of the struggles you had experienced previously
and also remembering the utter devastation of their taehyung when he had to break it to them
all of them kept their eye out for little gifts and outfits
each week, taehyung came home with a new stack of pale rompers or neutral-tones teething toys
these babies would have the best uncles; at least that much you could be certain of
announcing your pregnancy on social media was a looming task, but one he was determined to pull off perfectly
for filler content between schedules, the members had been asked to film a 5 minute vlog of their daily life
well, what a perfect opportunity!
towards the end, taehyung made sure to include some shots of your now protruding bump overlaid with some more vintage camera settings
safe to say, that day you had broken the internet
love, congratulations and blessings poured in from every corner of the earth
a few comments complimenting how much pregnancy suited you touched you especially
self image is commonly effected by the progression of pregnancy, and you were no exception to that
although it was amazing how your body grew and made a little home for your tiny babies, it was still quite strange to see yourself changing so quickly
your favourite clothes didn’t fit around your doubled bump anymore
and your skin seemed to hate sharing nutrients with two extra people
but for the days where you struggled to love yourself, taehyung easily filled in the gaps for you
sneaking up behind you in the bathroom
(although the mirror kinda gave him away)
he’d wrap his arms around your just-moisturised bump and carefully rest his chin on your shoulder
“tell me all your worries honey.”
you gushed over how much you missed wearing your favourite jackets
and how strange it was to look at yourself in such a new and confusing way
“i know it’s normal, and i know i have to do it for them. but i guess it’s just weird - i don’t look like myself anymore”
he sighed and planted a kiss on a spot of bare skin
those small kisses still tickled you like they always had
“well, you definitely look different,”
you really hoped there was a second part to that sentence, mostly for tae’s own good
“but why does that have to be bad? not gonna lie, it actually kinda makes you hotter. maybe we should make babies more often!”
“make~?”
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LABOUR AND DELIVERY
originally, you had wanted to try and stick to the natural route for as long as you could
but after a few contractions, that idea was immediately out of the window
to help steady yourself and wait out the pain, you held onto the kitchen island and swayed to your own pace
eventually, taehyung joined you
copying the same movements while timing your contractions
“they really must be desperate to come out, huh?”
“well do you think they could hurry it up a bit?!”
the pair of you had been prepared for this for over a month
the hospital bag was ready by the door with all of your essentials packed tightly inside
not forgetting the pots of instant ramen taehyung insisted he must bring in case of an emergency
just as he was readying to back out of the driveway, taehyung took a mental stock check of everything packed in the back
“do you think we have everything?”
“i love you but stop talking please.”
thankfully, he understood well that the sheer pain made you cranky
so long as he assured himself that it was ‘just the contractions’, he’d be just fine
as much as he couldn’t wait to announce he was about to become a father to everyone, he kept himself grounded when walking you to the maternity ward
one corridor in and you’d suggested that a wheelchair might be a better mode of transport
breathlessness and contractions didn’t sound like a favourable mix to you
the assessment of your fast dilation granted you an immediate spot in the labour ward
you’d picked this suite specially due to its expansive space
the option of a birthing pool was still available if you so needed it, but the mood lighting and access to aromatherapy was what attracted you to the room in the first place
a serene paradise for your angels to be born into
it was perfect
taehyung explored while you adjusted to your new surroundings
of course, it didn’t take him long to find the birthing ball
“what’s the difference between a yoga ball and a birthing ball?”
there obviously was none, but you took a few seconds to try and be smart with him
“well, sit on that and you might have a baby the size of a watermelon come out of you soon.”
taehyung cradled his torso and pulled a shocked expression, which was enough to make you giggle and cause another contraction
less than a few hours passed, and you had already attempted to scream the building down once or twice
“get these babies out of me. no i’m serious, i need them out.”
realising your deadpan expression, taehyung soon attended to you at the head of your bed
stroking your slightly sweaty head and patting a ice cold flannel on your clammy forehead
he braced himself for a crushing hand grip which came about sooner than he’d prepared for
you weren’t the biggest fan of commotion, and so being surrounded by nurses and doctors was close to being your worst nightmare
taehyung focused his voice into your ear, trying to minimise the tension coming from below your pelvis
his motivational words were broken up by short bursts of pushes
many of which were followed by a string of curse words which just slipped out
and then, there it was.
the first piercing cry belted across the room
a tear or two may have happened to slip from your eyes
finally the moment you’d waited for, nearly two years in the making, was here
the first of two, a little girl who already had a head full of the most luscious black hair
taehyung wanted to hold back his happy tears in order to show some kind of strength
but you and him both knew he’d never hold it back for long
within the space of 4 minutes, the second baby was born into the world.
but this time, there was no immediate cry
the whole world seemed to slow down in that moment as you waited
and waited
midwifes gathered around the new infant, looking for any kind of obstruction
but, soon enough, your son said his first hello to the world
796 notes · View notes
ahatintimepieces · 3 years
Text
It Comes Down in Buckets
Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!
Word Count: 7,678
The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.
She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.
Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.
As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.
She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.
But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.
Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.
After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.
She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.
As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.
“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.
“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.
“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.
“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.
She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.
Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.
Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.
Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.
The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.
She misjudged the distance.
Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.
“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.
Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.
“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.
“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.
“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”
Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.
Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.
Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.
Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…
“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.
After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.
She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).
She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.
By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.
She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.
“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”
“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.
“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.
“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.
“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”
“Oh.” She blinked up at him.
“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”
“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”
He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.
“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”
“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.
“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.
“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”
“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”
He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.
“But—” she hesitated.
“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.
Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.
“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.
Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!
Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.
“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.
The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.
“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”
“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.
“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.
“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.
“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.
Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.
“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.
“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.
“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.
“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.
“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”
“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.
The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.
“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.
“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.
As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.
“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.
“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”
He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.
“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.
She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.
“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.
Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.
But how much did he spend on her?
“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”
“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.
“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”
“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.
He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.
After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.
“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.
He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.
“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”
She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.
“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”
Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.
“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.
“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.
“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.
“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.
The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.
“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”
“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.
He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.
“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.
“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.
“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.
But they didn’t form a tail.
They just pooled out uselessly behind him.
“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.
He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.
“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.
She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.
“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.
After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.  
“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.
They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?
“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.
She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.
“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.
*
Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.
Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?
A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.
He couldn’t lift his hand.
He couldn’t lift his hand.
He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.
“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.
“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.
“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.
“Hold on!”
He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.
While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.
“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.
Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.
“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.
“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.
“Oh my god, I melted.”
“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”
“Um.”
No.
“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.
“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”
“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”
“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”
He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.
“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!
In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!
“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.
He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.
“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”
“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”
“Promise?” She stared him down.
“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.
She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.
“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.
“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.
He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.
Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.  
“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”
“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.
He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.
“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.
“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.
Hattie cracked a grin.
“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.
“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.
“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.
Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.
“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.
Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.
“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”
“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.
He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.
When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”
With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.
“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.
Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.
After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.
If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.
He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.
“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.
“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.
“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.
Luka groaned.
“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.
With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.
“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.
“No,” Hattie replied slowly.
“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”
“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.
“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.
“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.
He blinked up at her.
“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”
“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.
He stared at her.
“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”
“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”
“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”
“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.
“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.
“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”
He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.
“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.
“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.
“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”
She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.
Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.
“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”
His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.
“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.
“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”
“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.
“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.
“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.
“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”
“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”
“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.
“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.
“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.
“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.
Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.
“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.
He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.
“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”
She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.
“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”
“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.
“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.
“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.
“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.
“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.
Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.
Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.
He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.
Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.
Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.
“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.
“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.
“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.
“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.
Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.
“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”
“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”
“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.
He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.
Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.
257 notes · View notes
amazingmaeve · 3 years
Text
basorexia
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the overwhelming desire to kiss
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summary:
y/n and pansy have a complicated past. y/n was a slytherin but didn’t hang around the little group they had. til one night they get closer than they thought.
warnings - smut
word count - 1757
a/n - a writing challenge that @chokemepansy is doing! smut prompts 36 from her prompt list!
h.p masterlist // pansy parkinson masterlist
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Pansy and Y/N had a complicated past.
They started out as friends and even got close to being best friends but that was before she started to hang around Malfoy and his gang when they got to Hogwarts. Y/N and Pansy were both put in Slytherin but they drifted apart when they got their own group of friends.
Y/N only has one good friend who she could tell anyone to. Daphne Greengrass. She was always there for her and she could tell anything to that girl and she kept that a secret.
She didn’t like the way that Pansy and her friends treated some people and even stood up for some of the people they bullied. For example, Hermione Granger. She was a Gryffindor and a muggle born which meant she was a perfect target for bullies. Pansy would always give her a glare when she stood up for Hermione which she glared back.
Ever since her 5th year she has been having these…. Feelings. Y/N always thought she liked guys since she’s dating Theodore Nott. But lately she’s been having dreams of a certain someone and that certain someone was Pansy Parkinson.
She knew she liked guys but these feelings were confusing her and especially when she had these dreams of Pansy touching her in various ways. But it ended in the same way Y/N waking up with a class and a throb in her pussy.
Y/N usually got rid of this throbbing by going to the bathroom and started to please herself and thinking about the dream with Pansy.
She didn’t even know why Pansy. Y/N guesses since in this last year, which was her 6th, Pansy has been very flirty with her and she didn’t know why. At first she thought it was Pansy messing with her but it kept going on and before Y/N knew it, it was the middle of the year after Christmas break.
When she caught Theodore picking on some first year she finally decided to end it with him since she could not stand his bullying.
Y/N wasn’t even sad by dumping him. She always thought that he was extra mean but never saw him doing it to anyone. She was glad that she got away from him since he would’ve been incredibly toxic in her life.
The day after breaking up with him she heard there was going to be this party in the Slytherin common room and she didn’t know why but she only knew that she wanted to go. It would be a good thing for her to get her mind off of Theo and maybe have some fun, which she hasn’t had in a while.
It was a Saturday and she could stay up late and party since it wasn’t a school night. School was important to her so she wanted to get good grades but she was going to let loose that night.
Y/N looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a black mini skirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination and green tub tube top.
“You almost ready,” Daphne asked as she knocked on the door. Y/N could hear the rumbling of music.
“Yes I’m done,” Y/N yelled before stepping out of the bath room. “What do you think,” She asked and twirled around to show Daphne what she was wearing.
“Looking good love,” Daphne complimented as Y/N gave her a smile.
They walked to the common room where everyone was either dancing, making out, or drinking. The room was dark and you could see the flickering green lights flowing through the room.
Daphne yelled something about going to go and dance with some guy, who Daphne said was hot. Y/N walked to the table with alcohol on the table and downed it and started to feel the alcohol running through her veins. She looked across the room and saw that there was this girl dancing with Theo and he gave Y/N a wink and she just rolled her eyes.
She didn’t care that he was dancing with some girl and she wasn’t afraid to admit it. Y/N didn’t know why since she was with him for a long time but it didn’t feel real to her.
She didn’t even sleep with him which would’ve been good to let out some tension.
But now she could let out all of the tension that has been building up for the past few months. The dreams of Pansy and Theo took a toll on her and her school work. Y/N was sure she was going to get a letter from her parents about her grades.
Her parents wanted to achieve hard in everything so that’s why Y/N tried so hard. And when she failed she wasn’t only failing her parents. She was failing herself.
“What’s got you down love,” Y/N heard someone ask her and she turned around to see who it was. Pansy Parkinson.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Y/N sassed back crossing her arms across her chest.
“You break my heart every day,” Pansy puts her hands on her chest to where her heart is. Y/N looks over Pansy and sees that she is wearing shorts and a tank top and she tries hard to not stare at the cleavage. A smirk is etched on her face as she stares at Y/N. “You seem tense,” She hums.
“I’m always tense,” Y/N counters. Her voice is as monotone as a person who’s just woke up.
“I can see that,” Pansy looks over her and then looks up at her face. “Lipsticks a good look on you darling,” She flirts making Y/N’s heart race in anticipation, she was wearing a dark pink and it was the first time she’s ever worn that.
“Thank-thanks,” Y/N stutters then turns around trying to not look at Pansy. She didn’t want her to see the reaction she had on her.
“Maybe I could help you with that tension problem,” Pansy whispers sultry in her ear and trails her fingertips on her arm, taking note of the goosebumps in wake.
In a flash almost Y/N was being pushed against the wall of the bedroom as Pansy kissed her roughly. She returns the affection and puts her arms on her neck. Pansy’s hands were on her waist and were rubbing up and went up to her stomach.
Pansy continues to kiss Y/N and traces her tongue across her bottom lip wanting to enter. Y/N decides to tease and not let her in. Pansy gives her waist a squeeze making her moan letting her in.
Pansy leans back to take a breath and puts her lips on her neck sucking and nibbling hard on her collarbone making Y/N moan out her name.
“Don’t worry love, after this the tension will be all gone,” Pansy whispers in her ear, making her whimper. She could feel her pussy already starting to get wet.
Her hands go to her tube top and pull it up and Y/N raises her arms to make it easier for her. Her nipples finally meet the cold air and straightaway get hard. Pansy’s fingers trace across the outline of her nipples making them get even harder. She leans her head down and wraps her lips around the nub and gives it a suck.
Y/N moans and tangles her hands in her hair as Pansy twirls her tongue at the peak of her nipple. Meanwhile her hand travels up her stomach and gives her boob a squeeze making her whimper and moan even harder. Pansy looks up at her making her moan louder as she wiggles in anticipation.
Pansy let’s go with a pop and grabs her hand leading her to her bed. Pansy pushes her on the bed to where her feet are dangling off. Y/N pushes her heels off as Pansy starts to trail kisses down her stomach and she knows where this is going.
She pulls the skirt off just leaving her in the white panties she put on that day. Pansy lets out a moan noticing the little wet spot right above her pussy.
“I barely even touch you and you’re already wet,” Pansy smirks up at Y/N who looks down at her embarrassed. “No need to be embarrassed love I’m flattered,” She rubs her thighs comfortingly.
She runs her fingers up to her pussy and lets her thumb trail across her covered clit making Y/N whimper her name. She smirks up at her as she fully presses her thumb against the clothed nub making her lurch up and moan.
Deciding that Y/N has had enough teasing, Pansy takes off Y/N’s panties leaving her fully naked in front of the girl who has been occupying her dreams. Pansy admires how wet Y/N’s pussy is. It’s leaking with juices and she can practically see her throbbing waiting for her.
“My poor baby,” Pansy coos using her fingers to rub her folds together. Y/N puts her hands on her chest and twirls her nipples and pinches them. She could the pit in her stomach wanting to explode.
Pansy leans her mouth close to her pussy and sticks her tongue out and gives her clit a lap. Y/N cries out in pleasure, she’s never had anyone’s mouth down there and now it feels amazing. She continues to lap and Y/N continues to moan. Pansy decides to finally wrap her lips around the swollen and needy nub and give it a big suck.
“Pansy,” Y/N moans loudly, one of her hands traveling to have it in her hair and tugging at it.
Her eyes look up at her and give her a wink before giving her clit another harsh suck making Y/N’s orgasm coming faster and faster. Pansy’s hand travels to her entrance and decides to circle with her finger making Y/N an even louder moaner.
Pansy decides to do it quickly and sticks her finger up there and immediately curls it to her g spot. When she gives a suck and her finger hits her g spot hard Y/N lurches up.
“Pansy,” Y/N moans loudly, tugging on her hair as she releases all over fingers and clenching around the finger. Y/N feels herself start to calm down from the orgasm she had just experienced.
“Hope I made that tension go away love.”
288 notes · View notes
looooooooomis · 3 years
Text
F I N A L  G I R L  |  O N E
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You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.
p a r t   o n e  |  c o r n   m a z e
masterlist here 
pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader  word count: 4.3k warnings: implied/referenced cheating, swearing (obv), angst, drinking, fluff, pending smut + mentions of smut. as mentioned, part 2 will be allllllllll the smut x
You were going to kill Randy.
In fact, as the five of you crossed the threshold into the corn maze, you thought of the various ways you could do it without it coming back to you. You could strangle him with the tape of one of his precious Jamie Lee Curtis flicks, you could push an entire shelving unit of said movies on him during one of his shifts, hell, you could just lure him over to your house with the promise of sex before ultimately throwing him out your window. Any of the above sounded good to you tonight because the bastard was running late. Which meant that you were currently fifth wheeling on what was supposed to be a slightly boozy corn maze with your friends. Only now it was a slightly boozy corn maze with yourself and two loved up couples as you all impatiently waited for the idiot to arrive.
Yeah, you were definitely going to kill Randy.
You and Randy were friends, had been for years, and you were always there for each other when it came to these types of activities. Nobody liked being a fifth wheel but at least with two single people in your little gaggle of friends, it made things easier. You were happy as a clam being single, you preferred it in many ways if you were being honest, but at least with Randy around, you could ignore the weight of his stare.
Billy’s stare.
His brown eyes were on you constantly. You could feel them on your skin, feel them raking over every inch of you as though he was trying to soak you in from afar. His stare had a weight to it, you found. No matter how far away he was or where you two were – be it at school or hanging out or even in a goddamn corn maze – you felt him all over you.
At least with Randy around, it was easy to ignore. The two of you could joke around and escape the couples long enough to focus on anything else but the weight of Billy’s stare. But tonight, it was impossible to ignore, and you hated Randy in that moment for unknowingly leaving you with the one man you hadn’t been able to get out of your head for the better part of three years.
You hated Billy more, though, for making you feel as though every inch of your skin was on fire. For making you feel this level of guilt each and every time you hung around with Sid. Sid was one of your best friends, as was Tatum, which only made this entire situation so much worse.
“You think they’ll kick us out if they find out we’re loaded?” Stu asked with a quiet chuckle, glancing behind them for effect as though he was being tailed by the owners of the farm.
Tatum smacked his chest. “Maybe if you said it a little louder, Shit for Brains.”
Stu giggled again and slipped his hand into his jacket before pulling out a mickey of cheap vodka wrapped haphazardly in a brown paper bag. “Then I guess they’d be really mad at this.”
Tatum opened her mouth to tell him off but seeing it as your only saving grace, you reached across the divide and plucked it out of his hands to take a big sip. The vodka burned all the way down your throat, and you could feel all eyes on you as you licked the remainder of it from your lips and bottled it back up before handing it back to Stu. “You’re a saint, Stu.”
“Damn, Y/N,” Tatum laughed, “I can’t even be mad at that.”
Stu was smirking across at you, knowing exactly why you were choosing the bottle tonight which only made you feel worse than you did. Of course he knew. Where there was a Billy, there was a Stu. The pair didn’t have secrets between them much to your chagrin which only made nights like this all the more awkward.
“Everything okay, Y/N?” Sid asked, sweet as ever.
Your stomach twisted in your gut at the genuine concern radiating off of Sid’s features and your heart fell into your stomach when you watched her lovingly place her head on Billy’s shoulder. Where the fuck was Randy?
“All good, Sid,” you smacked on a breezy grin and shot her what you only hoped was a convincing wink. “I haven’t done a corn maze since I was a kid, just preparing myself is all.”
Tatum leaned into Stu’s lean torso and frowned. “Why? You scared?”
“Nah, she’s not scared,” Stu hummed, grinning across at you with a gleam in his eye. “On edge, maybe. Why so jittery, girl?”
You rolled your eyes and flipped him the bird just as Billy spoke up. “She’s not jittery, pencil dick,” his velvety voice was closer than you’d expected and when you saw him reach for the bottle in Stu’s pocket to take a rather big gulp himself, you swallowed hard. “She’s just getting this party started.”
You held his stare for a moment, feeling your entire body light up like a switchboard, before the familiar voice of Randy rang out. Breathlessly, he waved you all down and grinned. “What’s this I hear about a party?”
Tatum rolled her eyes and hugged her jacket closer to her body. “About time you got here, dick, it’s fucking freezing out here.”
“I know a way we can warm up,” Stu teased as he leaned down to nibble at her neck.
Despite your mood, you found yourself smiling across at the pair. They were a good match and you could tell that Stu genuinely made Tatum happy. Just as Billy made Sid happy. Your smile fell at the thought.
Randy’s eyes circled around your group of friends briefly before he threw an arm around your unsuspecting shoulders. “What did I miss?”
“The usual,” you chimed in, smiling across at him. “Tatum and Stu sucking face, Billy and Sid cuddling up and me drinking my weight in cheap beer from Stu’s dad’s mini fridge in the garage.”
Randy grinned. “I chugged a couple beers before I left the video store, so good to know we’re all on the same level.”
Your chest was already starting to feel lighter now that Randy was around. Granted, Billy’s eyes hadn’t left yours for a second since Randy slung his arm around you, but that was to be expected. At least you had Randy here now. With that kind of distraction, you’d be just fine.
“Why don’t we make this interesting?” Billy suggested, running a hand through his unruly mop of brown hair. When everyone’s eyes were on him, you could have sworn he gave you a little smirk before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “We should split up.”
“Fuck that,” Tatum laughed, “no chance in hell.”
“Yeah,” Sid agreed quietly, “I don’t know.”
“That’s literally what they tell you not to do in scary movies,” you chuckled. “When everyone splits up, trouble starts.”
Sid shivered and leaned into Billy’s chest. “Yeah, Billy, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“Oh, come on,” he was grinning excitedly now, looking between Stu and Randy for backup. “It’ll be like the movies. Dumb teenagers wander into a corn maze and split up for the sake of the plot. Halloween’s tomorrow - why the hell not, right?”
A slow grin began to pull on Stu’s face as he listened to Billy. There was a mutual understanding between the two men in that instance and if you blinked for just a second longer, you would have missed it.
It made you nervous.
“Dumb teens wander into a corn maze on the night before Halloween,” Randy repeated, “you know what, I like it. I’m in.”
You snapped your neck up to look at him. “What the hell happened to the Do’s and Don’ts of a horror movie? This is easily number one: Don’t split up.”
But Randy only shrugged. “I’m still a virgin, I’m safe.”  
“How about you three idiots stick together,” Tatum gestured to the boys, “and the three of us stick together. Whoever makes it out first gets a prize.”
You and Sid were nodding along to her words, but Stu simply pulled her in for a quick kiss and laughed. “Or we all split up and see where the night takes us.”
“I’m not Lewis and Clark, Stu,” you grumbled, “I had every intention of letting Randy and Sid lead us out of here alive while the rest of us idiots followed.”
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Billy smirked across at you, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
Sid seemed to still be unsure of the entire situation as she mulled over the suggestion. “Y/N is right, what if people get left behind?”
“It’s corn, not the berlin wall,” Stu pointed out incredulously. “Fucking walk through the stacks until you find an exit if you get too lost.” As if on cue, Stu’s eyes lit up as he noticed one particular bend of the maze that held six different options. With a burst of laughter, he took off running towards it and pointed to his newfound discovery. “If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”
You, Sid, and Tatum begrudgingly followed the boys to where Stu now stood giddily beaming across at everyone. “This is a stupid fucking idea,” Tatum grumbled as she took her place in the row beside her boyfriend. “We only brought one flashlight, how do you idiots plan on seeing the route?”
“Here,” Billy gently tossed the flashlight to Tatum and shrugged. “Moon is bright enough for me.”
With another roll of her eyes Tatum flicked the flashlight on and scowled across at her route. “Girls, if you see a flashlight, come to me.”
Stu laughed. “What about me?”
“You lost that right when you agreed to this stupid idea,” she groused. “You’re on your own.”
Grinning – and probably much drunker than he gave himself credit for – Stu rubbed his hands together and began counting down from three.
“You okay to do this, Sid?” You found yourself asking. Her mother had only died a few months prior and the idea of the poor girl meandering around alone in a cornfield sounded barbaric considering what she’d just been through.
“I’m fine,” Sid vowed, “I’ll see you guys soon.”
“It’s okay, Sid,” Randy muttered. “You’re safe, I promise.”
By the time Stu reached one, you took a hesitant step forward and embraced the darkness that surrounded you once you delved further and further down your path. You could hear the footsteps and crunches of the stacks around you as your friends eventually all split up to take their own trail and you swore that you heard Randy bump into Sid a few minutes in, putting you slightly at ease to know she wasn’t going through the maze alone. But, as time went on and you continued to circle the gigantic moonlight maze by yourself, your nerves began to eat away at you.
You weren’t one to scare easy but there was something about being on your own in the middle of a corn maze that was eerily off-putting. You’d seen Children of the Corn one too many times to feel at ease right now and the fact you could only see a few feet in front of you at any given time wasn’t helping one iota.
Hugging your denim jacket tighter around your body, you turned left and were met with a dead end. Groaning, you threw your head back in defeat and turned on your heel to retrace your steps but stopped when you heard a loud snap come from the wall of tall corn stacks before you. Swallowing hard, you narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see through the wall of decaying crop, but it was to no avail.
You couldn’t see a damned thing.
Another snap of a corn stock echoed out before you, making your skin crawl. Why the fuck had you agreed to splitting up? This is exactly how every horror movie you’d ever seen started and sure enough, here you were. About to be killed by a child of the corn on the eve of your favourite holiday.
Another snap.
And then, just as you were prepared to run for your life, a husky raccoon came bounding out of the thick hedge with a mouthful of hard corn. Your scream caught in your throat as you jumped back from the wild animal but, before you could think of bounding away, your back connected into someone’s chest.
With a high-pitched yelp, you turned only to be met with Billy’s wide brown eyes watching your every move. “Hey,” he cooed, reaching across to steady you. “You okay?”
That familiar cologne of his hit you like a tonne of bricks and for just a second, you allowed yourself to get lost in it. You knew that smell well. You couldn’t count how many times you’d woken up to that smell all over your pillows and sheets, wafting all over your bedroom like a slow mist that never quite subsided. Swallowing hard, you blinked out of your reverie and took an instinctual step back. “I’m fine,” you breathed out, “a racoon just scared me, is all.”
He glanced over your shoulder briefly before those brown pools soaked you in yet again. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You’ve barely said a word to me all week.”
You offered him a polite smile. “I’m fine, Billy. Just been a busy week. With swimming practice and—”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he muttered, voice strained. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Billy,” you sighed, pinching your brow, “I’m not doing this here. We can’t.”
His brows pulled together and a pained look crossed over his handsome features. “I meant what I said,” he rasped out. “You’re my girl, Y/N.”
“No, see that’s bullshit, Billy,” you bit back, “Sid is your girl. I’m just an easy lay. That’s all I’ve been for the last six months and I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.”
“You can’t believe that,” he stepped towards you and visibly flinched when you stepped back. “Sure, Sid’s a good girl but it’s compli—”
“Complicated,” you choked, “yeah, you’ve mentioned that a few hundred times in the last six months, Billy. And you’re right. It is complicated because me and you are making it complicated. For god’s sake, she’s one of my best friends, Billy. I’m fucking one of my best friends’ boyfriends. Do you get how fucked up that is?”
“Me and Sid are complicated,” he reiterated, ignoring your little tirade entirely. “But me and you, sweetheart, we work. We’ve always worked. You’re it for me. You’re my final girl.”
You shook your head and grabbed his wrist, yanking him closer to you to avoid having one of your friends creep up on the two of you and hear him rambling on. “Jesus, scream it a little louder, moron,” you growled, pulling him into the corner of the maze where the racoon had just jumped out of. “What is wrong with you? Do you want one of them to hear you?”
“I don’t care,” he admitted, “I miss you. I miss feeling you squirm against me when we watch a scary movie. I miss smelling you all over me the next morning. My fucking pillow smells like your shampoo and the fact that you haven’t so much as said a word to me this week is killing me, Y/N.”  
Looking over his shoulder to ensure none of your friends were coming, you nearly hissed as you pulled him further into the thick wall of corn stocks. The tall stacks towered over the two of you and shielded you away from any prying eyes.
“One week, Billy. It’s been one week and it’s hurting you? Try being in love with someone for three fucking years and watching them fall in love with someone else. And then, when he can’t get his whistle wet with his girlfriend, he ends up in your bed.” You ground your teeth together in an effort to control the burst of emotion pounding in your chest. “That is the shit that hurts, Billy. I wasn’t good enough to be your girlfriend, but I was easy enough for you to sleep with and I was so enamoured with you that I was willing to overlook the fact I’m hurting Sid each and every time we do it. I won’t do it anymore.”
The moon managed to seep in through a barren patch of the maze wall and struck Billy in such a way that you lost your breath. Those brown eyes you’d fallen in love with all those years back were glued to your face. He’d always had this air of intensity about him but, right now, looking at the long shadows cast against his face from the illumination of the moon, that intensity had all but dissipated. You’d never seen Billy look more beautiful in your life.
The silence that followed your words was thick and tense, but those damn eyes never left your face. Not even for a second. Slowly, Billy leaned in and, in the softest voice you’d ever heard him speak, he managed to break your heart all over again. “You love me?”
“Oh, shut-up,” you snarled, “like you didn’t know.”
“How the fuck would I have known that?” he whispered, taking a step closer to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you?” You snapped. “Billy, you have a girlfriend. I’m already fucking you, what am I going to do? Confess all of this in between sucking your dick and packing up before Sidney catches wind of us?”
“Don’t cheapen it,” he cautioned, “not when it comes to us.”
“There is no ‘us’, Billy!” You reminded him. “There is a you and there is a Sidney. Then there is me.”
“Fuck Sidney,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “And don’t act like it’s only been sex between us.”
You snorted. “Maybe the odd movie, sure.”
Anger flickered across his face as he took another step closer, backing you into a particularly sturdy corn stock. This was a side of Billy you rarely saw, this unhinged almost animalistic side that came out when his emotions got too overwhelming. You’d seen this look only once before. It was few weeks into your sneaky little affair when Billy had snuck in through your bedroom window with red, bloodshot eyes and bleeding knuckles. It was the night his mother had left, and he’d just had lost a one-sided fight with the brick wall of his house.
“You were there for me when nobody else was,” he leaned his forehead against yours and you watched the muscle in his cheek clench several times over as he chewed on his words. “When my mother left, you were the one that was there for me. Not Sidney, not my father – you.” You felt his hands trail up your jean-clad hips before guiding your hips towards the thick corn stock behind you. You should have pushed him away, stuck to your guns, and ran off to find the rest of your friends. But, you couldn’t. Not with Billy looking at you the way he was.
“Billy,” you tried, but there was no conviction behind it. “I meant what I said.”
“Which part?” He asked. “When you said you loved me or when you said you couldn’t do this anymore.”  
“Both,” you told him. “Sidney’s a good friend and—”
A growl escaped his throat as he shut his eyes, but he never stepped away. With his forehead still leaning against yours, it was as though he was afraid to break contact in fear of losing you all over again. “Can we not talk about Sid for one goddamn second?” He took a few even breaths before those brown eyes opened back up, capturing your gaze instantly. “I love you.”
“Don’t,” you warned him. This time it was your turn to shut your eyes as the pain of hearing those three little words sliced you from stem to stern. “That’s not fair, Billy.”
“What? You don’t believe me?” You felt his hands slither up the side of your waist and up the length of your body until they cradled your face. “Look at me.”
“No,” you griped, “to both of your questions. Don’t say shit you don’t mean, not when it comes to that. It’s cruel.”
His calloused thumb danced across the apple of your cheek. “Look at me,” he demanded, barely above a whisper. “Sweetheart, look at me.” Frowning, you opened your eyes but remained silent. Bumping your nose with his, Billy pushed your hair back and away from your face and shook his head. “I fucking love you.”
“You’re with Sidney,” you reminded him, sounding like a broken record. “If you loved me, we wouldn’t be hiding in the middle of a goddamn corn maze while our friends blindly stumble around looking for the exit.”
“Stu knows,” he admitted. “And when it’s a good time, so will everyone else.”
“Colour me shocked,” you rolled your eyes. “Stu knows everything.”
“You think I don’t want to parade you all over town?” Billy questioned. “I get so heated when I see Randy or any of those goons on the football team flirt with you. I want you every second of the day.”
You swallowed hard. “Then please, Billy, just be honest with me. Tell me why things are so fucking complicated with Sid? I get break-ups are hard but cheating on her isn’t the answer.”
Billy was truly torn as he took in the desperation in your eyes. Things with Sid were complicated but not in the way you thought they were. There were no feelings involved with Sid, at least not the romantic kind, but there was no chance in hell he was divulging his plans with Sidney. Not with you. He couldn’t stomach the idea of losing you knowing full-well you’d try and sway him on it. Or worse. What if you went to the police about it? What if you tried to stop him? No. He wasn’t getting you involved. You were the one person in his life who hadn’t let him down and he was hell-bent on doing the same for you.
The less you knew, the better.
“Just give me some time, alright?” He pleaded, grabbing your hands to ghost his lips across your knuckles. “She’s still dealing with the loss of her mother. I can’t spring a break-up on her, too. Not yet. But soon,” he kissed your hand, “I promise.”
“I don’t want to hurt her any more than we already have, Billy,” you told him, “we could end this here and now and then when you do break-up, we can continue whatever the hell this is. But we shouldn’t d—”
Before you could say another word, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Everything about this man was electric and despite everything –  the guilt, the secrets, all of it – the way his lips seemed to mould against yours so perfectly, stopped you dead in your tracks. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “I really do fucking love you.”
You leaned into the kiss and tangled your fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he continued his assault down your jaw towards your neck where he nipped and sucked at the sensitive flesh. “You give me a fucking hickey and you’re dead,” you chastised breathlessly. When he responded with a gentle bite, you gave his hair another gentle tug. “I mean it, Loomis.”
Pulling back from your neck, you were met with one of Billy’s rare but genuine grins. He was all teeth as he leaned his forehead against yours again, scraping his thumbnail gently across your cheek as he fought to catch his breath. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
“Your girlfriend would beg to differ, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Groaning quietly at the mess you and Billy had created for yourselves, you reached up and pushed a strand of his brown hair back and away from his face. “We should go,” you told him. “Before anyone besides Stu finds us.”
Giving you one final peck, he nodded in agreement and pushed a few stocks aside for you to escape from. Before you stepped out of the covering, however, Billy reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I promise, Y/N, everything is going to work out for us.”
Giving him a small, resigned smile, you leaned in and gave him a quick, chaste kiss. “I’ll leave my bedroom window open tonight,” you told him. “Do what you will with that information.”
Billy watched you disappear back into the maze with a shit-eating grin on his face. God, he was in deep with you. Too deep, perhaps, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not yet, at least. For now, he had you back and he had no intention of letting you go again.
part two HERE
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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years
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All I Want For Christmas
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A/n: so this started off as a blurb......then i got carried away.......so.......happy christmas everyoneeeee also HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO MY SECRET SANTA GIFT PARTNER !!!!!! (also this is not thoroughly edited I'm soso sorry )
For: @hansoulmin  HAPPY CHRISTMAS BABY!!! I was your secret santa! I hope you like it! 
Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @strykiss​ @skzwriternet​
Warnings: cussing, lots of sexual tension maybe...idk
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: Minho and Y/n have never gotten along for reasons unknown to anyone. After circumstances arose, Y/n is stuck with Minho driving him up to the cabin the boys rented. It seems that things go terribly wrong at every turn as Y/n is kept from her long desired Christmas vacation. Will she be able to change Minho’s mind about Christmas....and possibly his view on her? 
Genre: Christmas au, enemies to lovers au, fluff, romance, slice of life au, forced to share bed trope, Fem reader
Out of all people, the universe seemed to only choose you to throw misfortune on. You were nice. Some might even call you kind and selfless! You were by all means a good person! So why? Why out of all the eight other people going on this vacation did you have to stay behind a day and drive Satan’s spawn up to the cabin?
Lee Minho was a grown man of twenty two years. He should be able to drive himself! Also what was his deal? The rest of the boys had cleared their schedule for a week and a half of Christmas vacation.What was so important he had to delay your winter getaway as well?
The frigid winter wind bit at your skin, latching onto the soon disappearing warmth. You rolled your eyes watching the coat clad form of Minho come down the stairs of the entertainment building at a painstakingly slow pace. You had no clue why, but ever since you met, Minho had been nothing but cross and hateful towards you, and it seemed like he had no intention of changing. 
“Y/n.” Minho said coldy, tossing his duffel bag into my arms. 
“Satan.”
‘Clever.”
Deciding to be the bigger person, you securely placed his bag along with yours in the trunk and walked over the the driver’s side. The door slammed shut as Minho sunk into the passenger seat. “This is going to be a long ride,” you mumbled. 
An hour into journey and your prediction was already coming true. The two of you sat in awkward uncomfortable silence. Minho stared out the window seemingly unphased by the unwieldy tension. “Should I turn on some music?” You asked, reaching for the radio.
“No. It will just make things uncomfortable.”
You scoffed, retracting your hand. “I don’t see how it can get more uncomfortable than this.” Minho rolled his eyes turning to look at you. 
“It will be annoying for me when you start singing along to the radio and I have to tell you how utterly shit your voice is.” There was no hiding the scowl on your face. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel. Only five and half more hours with this asshole. 
You sighed, glancing over at the man in your car. He was messing around on his phone, completely ignoring you. It was like the conversation you had only a few seconds ago had never happened. “Look. I know you hate me and you definitely aren’t my favorite person either.” No response came from Minho. He simply rolled his eyes. “What was so important that you had to delay my Christmas vacation? Don’t you like Christmas? What possibly would be worth setting back such an amazing holiday?”
Hearing no response you looked over at Minho in question. He was looking out the window with a rather pointed scowl. “Not everyone loves Christmas.”
“What? Everyone loves Christmas! Christmas is the best time of the year!”
“Well, not me. I don’t like Christmas.”
“WHAT?!”
You turned to him eyes wide. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” Minho grabbed the steering wheel and jerked the car back into the right lane. “What’s so wrong about not liking Christmas?” Light snow flurries began to fall on the windshield. “Christmas is just another stupid holiday. There’s nothing special about it. Plus it’s cold.”
“Maybe you really are satan....” You mumbled under your breath. 
“What was that?”
“Nothing.....I just can’t believe you hate Christmas...”
Two painful hours later you were driving your impossible passenger down a long stretch of snow filled road. The windshield wipers screeched as they pushed snow off the glass. The storm had really picked up as you drove further out of the city. The roads were icy and you did your best to keep your old run down car from drifting. 
“How much longer?” Minho sighed, resting his head on the cool glass. 
“Quite a bit-” BANG!
Suddenly, it was much harder to control your car. You felt a rumble in the back wheels. Minho shot up in his seat. “Wait- what the fuck is going on?” Easing your foot off the gas, you pulled over onto the side of the empty road. 
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Hitting your steering wheel, you tried to hold back your frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes, begging to spill over. There was no way you were going to cry in front of Lee Minho. Couldn’t one thing go your way this year? As if this wasn’t bad enough, a loud bang came from your engine and smoke started spilling from the hood. “Fuck...” 
Defeated, you let your head fall onto the wheel. A long continuous blast came from the car horn. Minho grimaced, covering his ears. “Can you like....stop?” You turned to look at him. Feeling even more dejected under his gaze you lifted your head, ceasing the blaring noise. 
Taking a moment to gather your emotions, you blew out a shaky breath. “Just....stay in the car, I guess. Not like you’re gonna help anyway.”
Jerking open the car door, you stepped out onto the snowy road. Deciding to look at the hopefully less damaged part of your car, you wrapped your coat further around your body and walked to the back of your car. Just like you thought, the rear left tire was completely blown out. 
“I knew my car was shit, but I thought it was going to last at least another two years.”
Now it was time to face the music, or rather the smoke. Snow falling at a fast pace, you shuffled through the cold and around to the front of your car. Raising the hood more smoke rose into the winter air. Looking around you saw it was getting darker. You had told Chan you and Minho would be at the cabin the boys rented by dinner time. It was already six o’clock.
A quick glance under the hood was enough to tell that this car was going no where. Brain trying to solve the prediciment you somehow ended up in, you crouched down and attempted to come up with a way out of the situation. So deep in thought, you didn’t even hear the sound of the passenger door opening and closing. 
“I’m assuming you can’t fix this.”
Looking up you saw Minho standing over you. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets and white snow flurries floated onto Minho’s dark brown hair. “Do you just assume I’m useless at everything?” Minho rolled his eyes. The man turned around and opened the trunk. He returned with your bag as well as his. 
“Come on.” Not even casting a glance your way, Minho tossed your bag at your kneeling figure. The momentum sent you falling onto your butt, the wet cold snow immediately seeping through the one warm layer you were wearing. 
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“There’s a hotel a couple miles away.” Minho said holding up his phone. 
Pushing yourself off the ground you grabbed the bag and hurried to catch up with the sulky hateful man who was already walking further into the snowfall. “Are you serious?” You questioned, trying not to slip on ice. “Hey- Minho! What the fuck, dude?” 
“Come on, idiot. Keep up.”
“Minho! Wait up!”
The sky was almost pitch black by the time the two of you made it to the hotel. Whether it was from the snow clouds or time you weren’t sure. Minho had not bothered to wait for you. He was already through the sliding doors of the building before you had reached the hotel’s driveway. “Selfish jerk.” You mumbled, dragging your bag through the rising snow. 
You did your best not collapse as you were embraced by the warm heating in the hotel lobby. Minho was brushing the show from his hair as he confidently approached the front desk. The clerk greeted him with a friendly smile. 
“Hi. We need two rooms please.”
Her smile faltered a little bit. “I’m so sorry, sir.” She wrung her hands together, keeping that hospitality smile on her face. “With the snowstorm, almost every room is booked.” Minho sighed, casting an annoyed glare your way. 
“Are you sure?” 
After catching your breath, you joined the singer at the desk. The lady typed away on her computer. Looking over, you could see red boxes by all the rooms she scrolled through. “I’m so sorry, sir. But all but one of our rooms is booked.”
“We’ll take it.” You jumped in, eager to have any relief from the storm outside. 
She smiled and Minho grumbled something under his breath. “Okay then. Here is the key to our Honeymoon Suite. It’s on the fourth floor at the end of the hall.” There was no stopping the blush flooding your cheeks.
“H-honeymoon suite....?”
“Yes. It’s our last room.” 
Minho snatched the key card from the woman’s hands. “You’ve already said we’ll take it. Stop blubbering and get your stuff.” Grabbing his duffel, Minho began walking towards the elevator with no intention of waiting for you. 
The concierge looked at you with pity. “You’re boyfriend isn’t the nicest...is he?” 
With a scoff you replied, “Believe me, Minho is not my boyfriend.”
Rushing through the lobby, you squeezed through the elevator doors just as they were closing. Minho remained silent as you both rode up to the fourth floor. Your wet feet against the plush carpet was the only sound to be heard as you walked to the end of the hall. 
Before he could slide the keycard, Minho scowled at the heart engraved on the door. The happy beep and green light prompted him to push into the room. His scowl deepened as he flicked on the lights. 
Even with the lights turned on, the room was cast in a warm dim glow. There was only one bed, shaped like a huge heart with rose petals strewn across the duvet. Your eyes widened seeing a tall metal poll in one corner of the room, red light shining down on it. Subsequently a similar color grew on your cheeks. The whole room was lavishly decorated and had several interesting adult objects lying about.
“This is.....”
“What? You can’t handle a little atmosphere, Y/n?” Minho taunted with a smirk. He tossed his bag onto a chair, seeming to enjoy your embarrassed state. 
You sat on the bed only to jump up and scream feeling it move beneath you. “It vibrates?! What the fuck! Who makes a bed that vibrates?!” Minho chuckled, possibly the first time you had ever seen him give anything remotely close to a genuine smile. 
“Not kinky are you, Y/n?” 
You froze. Your hands gripped tightly onto your bag and you pulled it higher to cover your chest in embarrassment. “Regardless, there is no way I’m sleeping on that thing.” He shrugged and flopped onto the bed, rose petals flying into the air. He looked rather comfortable, completely unphased by his surroundings. 
“Suit yourself.”
Cautiously, you sat on the plush couch holding your bag like a teddy bear. This was certainly not how you imagined your Christmas. You were so looking forward to spending Christmas with your friends. Decorating the tree. Sitting by the fire in the rented cabin. Eggnog with slightly too much rum. Giving gifts you spent way too much of your paycheck on. Now you were stuck in some hotel sex dungeon with the devil spawn. What a Happy Christmas it was turning out to be. 
After getting used to the room, you showered and changed clothes to leave Minho to do the same. While he cleaned up, you phoned a nearby auto-shop and asked them to tow your car in and fix it. Finally able to resolve the stressful phone call, you let your head fall into your hands. Minho exited the bathroom rubbing his hair with a towel. 
Just as you were about to tell him the only slightly good news, the lights shut off. Both of you looked around in confusion. “Minho, did you do this? Is this some kind of prank? Cause, I’m not afraid of the dark.” He shook his head and grabbed his phone from off the dresser, using it as a flashlight. 
It was then you noticed that the room was getting colder by the second. Rubbing your arms, you shuffled over to your bag and grabbed a cardigan. A knock sounded at the door. Sighing, Minho answered it.
“Ah- Mr. Lee! We are so sorry about the inconvenience. It seems the powerlines have frozen over and the hotel has lost all electricity.” A man wearing a bellhop uniform said. Hearing the news, you came to stand next to him. “We are doing our best to get our generator up and running. It seems our heating system is also down.”
“How do you expect us to stay like this?” Minho asked with a cold stare. The man shrunk under his gaze. 
Slapping Minho’s shoulder you pushed him aside. “Stop being a grinch. Thank you so much for letting us know.” The man nodded and pulled a blanket from a nearby cart. You flinched awak from his cold hands as he passed it to you. The poor thing. He must be freezing walking around the halls in his uniform. 
“Here. This extra blanket will help. The hotel will also discount your stay.”
“No, take the blanket. We’ll be fine. You need it more than us. Thank you for doing such hard work!” The man smiled and thanked you profusely before you closed the door. Turning, you found Minho looking at you strangely. “What?”
He looked you up and down before scoffing and turning away. “You’re just so nice to everybody. You’re so gullible.” 
“Gullible?” You couldn’t believe him. “I’m not gullible. It’s called being nice. Have a little Christmas spirit will you.”
He rolled his eyes, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “I already told you. Keep all that Christmas bullshit to yourself. It’s all just an excuse for the tinsel and ornament industry to make money off losers like you.” 
There was no convincing him otherwise, so you simply watched as he pushed back the covers of the bed and climbed in. “Fine. Be a grinch or a Scrooge or a Hans Gruber for all I care.”
“Hans Gruber?” Minho questioned, head popping up in the dark. 
“Die Hard is a Christmas movie too, okay?”
You were shocked to hear a chuckle come from the big heart shaped bed. Sure, you must be imagining things, you took down a rather thin blanket from the closet and headed to your spot on the couch. Your barefeet flinched at every step on the cold hardwood floor. Curling up into a ball on the sofa, helped your body temperature rise a little bit, but you still froze with the tiny blanket you used. Eventually, you fell into a cold restless sleep. 
You awoke to some shuffling in the room. Assuming Minho was getting up to get a glass of water or something you tried to go back to sleep. But, you were puzzled as you heard his footsteps come closer to the sofa. Unsure what he was doing, you pretended to be asleep, wrapping the blanket more around your shivering body. 
“I’m only doing this cause I can’t sleep with all that teeth chattering,” Minho whispered under his breath. “It’s not like I care...” 
Suddenly you felt his long fingers gently reach out for your ankle. Still pretending to be asleep you resisted the urge to flinch away. Brows furrowed and eyes still closed, you tried to figure out what he was doing. Minho tenderly pulled what you imagined to be a pair of his socks over your cold bare feet. Your breath hitched as his soft hands brushed over your skin. He was....being kind? 
Hearing movement, you shut your eyes tighter as Minho pushed himself off the ground. “That should be fine.....” He whispered. You waited, but didn’t hear him walk away. “Why am I even bothering...” Again it seemed like he stayed. After another moment of silence he shifted. 
Surprisingly, you felt his hands reach under your legs and behind your back. He lifted you into the air and pulled you into his chest, carrying you as if you were the most fragile thing he had ever touched. Minho moved across the room before gently placing you on the bed. The covers were pulled up to your chin and you felt him tuck in the fabric around your body. You were shocked to say the least. 
Surprising you further, Minho climbed into bed next to you. His arm cautiously wrapped around your stomach and pulled you flush against his warm chest. You were feeling very conflicted for many reasons. Deciding to test just what was going on, you turned around, eyes still closed, and hugged onto him tighter. You buried your face into his chest. He froze obviously contemplating what to do. 
Hesitantly, like his body was stuttering, he let his arms fall around you in an embrace. You found yourself....content. His scent was comforting. He smelled like amber and some sort of spice you couldn’t quite name. Just as you were about to fall asleep, Minho sighed and let his fingers tenderly stroke your hair.
“This doesn’t mean I like you....” He whispered. There was something in his voice that made you not believe his words. You didn’t have time to think about them, because you were soon lulled into a deep sleep. 
The next morning you woke up to soft white light streaming through the hotel curtains. Minho was still asleep next to you, fingers still tangled in your hair. The room around you was cold, but your body was nothing but warm in Minho’s arms. You smiled remembering Minho’s kind action last night. Not knowing how he would react you decided it might be best if you weren’t in the room when he woke up. 
Each time you moved, you were sure the man was bound to wake up. Finally you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You smiled, looking down and seeing his gray warm socks on your feet. Your eyes widened as realization passed through your mind. 
Did you like Minho?
Looking over at Minho’s sleeping face, you felt your hears start to beat faster. Grasping at your chest, you tried to still your literally beating heart. This was not a problem for now. Minho could wake up any second and you didn’t really want to confront these possible feelings with him awake. 
Sliding into a pair of the hotel slippers, you shuffled to the door, rubbing your arms to keep warm. Slipping the keycard into your cardigan pocket, you closed the door quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping singer just yet. 
“Oh- I am so sorry!” Someone said, bumping into you. 
“It’s fin-...Hey, I know you!” You turned to find the bellhop from the night before. “Has your shift not ended yet?” 
He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The roads are icy, plus they have everyone staying because of the power situation.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. He seriously was a hard worker. “By the way, we got our back up generator working, but there seems to be something still wrong with the heater.” 
“Don’t worry about it! Minho and I were fine last night so I’m sure the other guests were as well.”
He chuckled. “You’re really nice. You’re like walking Christmas spirit.” You smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh- the kitchen staff managed to scrap together our usual breakfast service downstairs. You should go check it out. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Lee! Merry Christmas!”
“Oh- I’m not...” But it was too late. The bellhop was already swiftly moving down the hall. 
Deciding to move past the conversation, you headed downstairs to the breakfast buffet. The lobby was full of Christmas decorations; something you had missed last night in your urgent desire to get a room. It made you smile. A reminder that Christmas Eve was tomorrow. 
Following the delectable odor of breakfast food, you wandered into the buffet area and built two plates for you and Minho. Balancing the full platters of food like a professional circus performer, you journeyed back up to the room. By some feat, you opened the door and entered the still freezing room.
Minho sat up in bed, still looking half asleep. “I...I- uh... I brought breakfast. I wasn’t sure what you liked so-”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat anything warm right now.” 
Wearing a nervous smile, you sat down on the bed across from Minho and handed him a plate. The two of you ate in semi awkward silence, this time for a very different reason. “So-”
“About last night...” Minho started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-...I-...you're teeth were chattering pretty loud and-”
You smiled, stopping his train of thought. You could practically see every word he had planned to say leave his brain. “You don’t have to say anything. Thank you, Minho.” The boy nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the plate of food.
Another silence followed only slightly less awkward. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Minho’s head raised at your voice. “Why do you hate Christmas so much?” He sighed, shoving a sausage in his mouth and chewing on the savory food. 
“I just never really got the whole Christmas thing. My family never celebrated. Every time we try to get together for the holidays everything just seems to go wrong. Just like how things are going now.” He scoffed picking up another sausage.
“Okay...I can respect that. But...you’re hatred of Christmas seems to be more than that.”
Minho rolled his eyes. Contradicting his actions, he reached over and placed a piece of his toast on your plate. “It’s just....I don’t get it. Like, explain to me what is so great about Christmas.”
You set your plate down with a grin and ate the piece of toast Minho gave you. “I don’t know. I just get this warm feeling around Christmas time. I love seeing all the love that people share. There is just something about Christmas that brings people together. It’s beautiful everywhere and everything is just bright and happy.”
Minho smiled watching you talk. You rambled about all the things you loved about Christmas, from making snowmen to decorating the tree, to watching people unwrap their gifts. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way you spoke that made his stomach twist in knots. 
At some point you stopped talking and noticed the dazed look on his face. “Did you even listen to me?” You looked down at your lap, slightly disappointed. Not liking the frown on your face Minho quickly nodded his head.
“Yeah, of course.” 
Before he could remedy the tension he accidentally created, your phone rang pulling away your attention. Minho watched you get off the bed and walk away to answer the phone. Your back turned, he started beating himself up about not paying full attention to what you were saying. 
“So, Minho,” You said turning to face him. “That was the auto shop. They said we should be able to pick up the car tomorrow afternoon. Thankfully we’ll be able to see the boys on Christmas Eve!” 
Minho smiled, watching your face light up at the good news. “That’s great.”
After two nights in a hotel, you were finally pulling into the driveway of the rented cabin. It was gorgeous! The huge vaulted roof was covered in snow and the warm wood stood out against the blanketed white backdrop. “Minho,” You said slapping his arm to get his attention as you parked the car. “Look how pretty this is!”
He looked up from his phone, first looking at your bewildered grin, then the lodge in front of you. “Yeah,” You stared in wonder at the place you would be staying for the next week. “Really beautiful.” Turning you found Minho already looking back at you. For some reason, just the way he was looking at you had your stomach doing somersaults.
Pushing your hair behind your ear, you attempted to calm the heat on your cheeks. Both you and Minho awkwardly laughed and looked away from each other. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you tried to pat away the blush like an idiot. 
“THEY’RE HERE!”
Suddenly, seven rambunctious boys stampeded out of the house and came bounding through the snow to your now fixed car. They pounded happily on the windows and had you not known them, the event would be absolutely terrifying. “Guys, let us out of the car!” Minho shouted with half a laugh. 
Eventually, you were dragged into the cabin by the idols and hugged until your faces turned blue. The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. Everything was made out of wood and there was practically a wall of huge windows overlooking the snow covered forest. 
“What took you guys so long?” Jisung asked hanging off your arm. 
You sighed, ruffling his fluffy hair. Minho watched with a pointed stare. “Well, my piece of junk car broke down and so Minho and I were stuck in a freezing hotel honeymoon suite. but, now we’re here and I cannot wait to start our Christmas vacation!”
“Woah, woah, woah, woah. Back up. Honeymoon suite?” Chan asked with raise brows, looking between Minho and you. The look stopped when Minho made a slice motion across his neck. “Well....um...guys I hate to break it to you, but there's only like 5 rooms and the rest of us have already paired off.”
The band collectively ‘oo-ed’ and started jokingly shoving Minho around. “Think you lovebirds can survive without biting off each other’s heads?” Jisung said jokingly. Obviously he was kidding, but you were blushing more in the last hour than probably ever in your life. 
Thankfully, Chan noticed your embarrassed state and ushered everyone away to let the two of you settle in. Christmas Eve with the rest of Stray Kids was quite possibly one of the greatest nights of your life. By the time everyone retired for the evening, it was almost midnight. Your room was smaller than the hotel suite but shared the commonality of having....one bed. 
While Minho was in the shower, you snuck downstairs to get a better look at the tree Hyunjin, Chan, and Jeongin had put up the other day. The lights twinkled on the real tree that was standing tall in the living room. A fire was raging in the fireplace. The glow of the flames reflected in the red, gold, white, and green ornaments. 
The tree reminded you of the one your parents used to put up when you were little. Feeling the urge to act childish you crawled on your hands and knees until you could lay down under the tree and look up into the lit branches. Resting your hands on your stomach, you smiled looking up at the shiny glass orbs. 
“Y/n?” Minho called out into the wide expanse that was more than an excuse for a living room. “You in here?” Turning your head, you watched his sock feet come down the stairs two at a time. 
“By the tree,”  Through the branches you watched him approach the large Christmas tree. 
Minho chuckled and kicked your leg lightly. “Whatcha doin’ down there, idiot? you look like the Wicked Witch of the East!” He soon regretted the comment as a swift kick was directed at his unprotected calf.  “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing his leg. “But, really, what are you doing down there?” 
“You never did this as a kid?” He shook his head. The strong smelling fronds obstructed most of his face from your view, but you could make out the glint of his round spectacles in the firelight. “Come here!” 
Letting out a sigh with an intention you couldn’t decipher, Minho got on all fours before crawling to lay next to you under the Christmas tree. His shoulder brushed up against yours, making your skin tingle. “What’s the point of this?” He whispered after a few moments of staring at the lights. 
Shrugging, you answered, “I don’t know. When I was little, my parents fought a lot. I used to walk down in the living room and lay under the tree. Sometimes I would pretend all the little lights were stars and I would wish for a Christmas miracle hoping maybe that this year they would stop fighting. Or at least fight a little less.” As you spoke, you watched the ornaments and colorful Christmas lights sparkle and twinkle. “Some years it worked. I really did get a Christmas miracle.”
“I think you were the Christmas miracle.” Minho said turning to look at you.
“I doubt that.”
“Well...you’ve made me not...not like...Christmas. I’d say that’s miracle quality.”
You laughed, reaching for his hand on instinct. His eyes widened, but the boy let you grasp onto his fingers. “Minho, you really aren’t so bad. I feel like maybe I just didn’t take the time to get to know you.” Minho grinned. You felt like it may have been the lights, but a rosy dust filled his cheeks. 
“Yeah, well....like I said. You’re my Christmas miracle.”
You were at a loss for words. Minho shifted his fingers to interlock with yours. “Can- can I kiss you?” He asked with baited breath and furrowed brows, eyes trained on your lips. If you weren’t sure of his feelings, you knew now. Fearing your voice would betray you with any attempt to speak, you nodded and looked through the glass lenses into his deep brown eyes. They were softer than you had once thought. 
Slowly leaning over Minho pressed his lips against yours. That warm feeling returned to your stomach and slowly traveled until you’re whole body felt like it was glowing. Minho kissed you under the twinkling colorful lights of the tree, earasing every other bad thought or thing he had ever said to you before. He pulled away as the grandfather clock in the hall struck twelve. 
“Merry Christmas, Minho.” You whispered, his lips still inches away from yours. 
“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”
“GOOD MORNING CHRISTMAS LOVEBIRDS!” Hyunjin screamed, bursting into the room you and Minho shared. He shrieked seeing the two of you, legs tangled together under the sheets. With sleepy eyes, Minho sat up and tossed the pillow you were using at the blonde’s head. 
“Minho! That was my pillow!” Groaning, he just laid back down and pulled you into his chest, letting you use his arm as a headrest. 
Chan pulled Hyunjin from the floor shaking his head at the drama queen. “In all serious, guys, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin are very eager to start opening presents so get your butts downstairs.” Minho raised his arm to shoo his leader away. The door closed returning you to your original state of privacy. 
Minho kissed your forehead, snuggling back under the warm duvet with you. “You know this is the first Christmas morning I’ve been excited to wake up. This time I’m just excited to see you though.” 
“Never would have pegged you for the cheesy type, Lee Minho.”
He chuckled, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. You were unable to keep the smile from creeping up your face. “We should get down stairs. The boys will be missing us.” 
“Fiiiiine.” He grumbled, pushing himself off the bed. Slowly, your body still waking up, you swung your legs over the side. Before your barefeet could touch the ground, Minho’s hand once again wrapped gently around your ankle. He smiled up at you, kindness in his dark brown eyes. Tenderly, his long fingers slid a warm pair of his socks over your feet. “My Christmas miracle can’t have cold feet, can she?”
Smirking at your blush, Minho took your hand and led you out of the cabin bedroom. You joined the rest of the boys around the tree, Jisung already tearing open a gift and Seungmin passing out presents. Minho found the last empty spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap. 
“You too seem pretty cozy,” Changbin stated, with a knowing look on his face. 
Completley oblivious to the conversation, Jisung chimed in. “So, Minho, did you finally figure out what you want for Christmas? Shopping for you was so hard!” Jisung groaned, holding his new gifted plushie in his arms. 
“I gues all I want for Christmas this year is Y/n.” Minho said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, not afraid of any of the boys making fun of him apparently. 
“SO I SHOULD JUST RETURN THE $475 JACKET I BOUGHT YOU HUH?”
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fybillielourd · 4 years
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I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.
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stayndays · 3 years
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𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐬! - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧
part of my anime!skz series, this story is based off of “Toradora!” and will include spoilers on the plot of the show.
genres & tropes: fluff, minor angst (mostly at the end), high school au, love triangle/square, enemies & neighbors to lovers au, tsundere!jeongin (i guess?), gender neutral reader, reader is misunderstood as a cold person
disclaimers: drowning (but no death), mentions of rumor spreading & outcasting, mentions of anxious feelings/actual anxiety, one or two swear words, i have not proofread this so if the last few episodes seem really wonky that’s why
word count: 11k... we don’t comment on that
summary: “Y/L/N Y/N. Yang Jeongin. Kim “Chuu” Jiwoo. Kim Seungmin. You like Seungmin, Jeongin likes Chuu. You’re best friends with Chuu, Jeongin’s best friends with Seungmin. You don’t like Jeongin, but you know about each other’s crush. It’s time to play a game of Cupid, while being struck with Cupid’s arrow yourself.”
a/n: happy valentines day and belated jeongin day! this is the first story i’ve decided to tackle for my anime!skz series as well, so i get to hit three birds with one stone with this fic. also, i decided to take out a couple elements in the original anime (such as the addition of a character that’s like ami, taiga’s family issues, and some events) just so it’s simpler and totally not because i’m on a time crunch. i hope you enjoy reading this! <3
taglist: @skzwriternet​ @dayawantstosleep​ @desertofdessert​ @mr-jisung​ @dreamylunarnight​ (sorry if i forgot you i’m running on 0.2 braincells)
anime!skz masterlist is here!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Episode 1: Collision Course
“Psst, look over there!”
“Huh? What?”
“The fennec fox is about to face off against the dark delinquent!”
You turn to face the two students after overhearing the words “dark delinquent”, making the duo back away in fear. Cursing your parents who gave you these intimidating genes, you heave out a breath out of annoyance, and continue walking down the hallway.
Alas, maybe your appearance is the reason why people never approach you unless it’s absolutely necessary. You still manage to give off this dark atmosphere despite how much you try to change your appearance. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” your best friend, Chuu, attempts to reassure you. “It’s only the first day of school! You still have an entire school year to prove them wrong.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy your best friend, who basically embodies the definition of the sun. Always smiling and having a positive attitude regarding the situation, you just so happened to be the exact opposite of her. Boys are constantly crushing on her, she’s one of the most popular girls of your year, but she just so happens to be buddies with you. 
“Oh, watch out Y/N!” Distracted by your thoughts, you process Chuu’s warning just a second too late, and collide with a particularly tall boy, somehow smacking your face right into the torso part of his male school uniform. The force manages to knock the both off you to the ground, sending your papers flying all over the place. 
Oh, that’s right. That’s what the two girls were talking about. You’ve heard rumors of who this “fennec fox” person is, and how he has a really bad temper when you push his gears. But this guy you just bumped into? A fennec fox?
You guess you can see some resemblance of a fox in his facial structure, but his figure literally towered over you, making you feel like an ant standing next to a tree. The small crowd of passing students trying their absolute least to hold in their giggles make you feel even smaller, your neck growing hot because of how embarrassed you are.
“Watch where you’re going next time!” the boy scolds you, brushing off the paper that landed on top of his head. His voice makes you flinch slightly, and it’s only in that moment that you realize the rumors, so far at least, were true. 
“Er, sorry,” you quietly mumble out, scratching the side of your face. He definitely looks pissed, you thought, smoke practically fuming out of the guy’s ears. “Here, I’ll help you gather your stuff.” 
“I’ll help you guys out, too!” you hear a familiar voice, and meet the eyes belonging to a face you know all too well. 
Kim Seungmin: your secret crush that nobody truly knows about (you’ve tried approaching the topic to Chuu multiple times, only to be interrupted by her other friends). He’s the vice president of your school, a role he’s gained through the student body president herself. The definition of hardworking and kind at the same time, who would you be not to fall for a guy like him?
Your breath gets caught up in your throat as you try to answer him. “Oh- Uh- Thank you, Seungmin.”
“Of course! Wouldn’t hurt to help out my best friend, too,” Seungmin replies.
Best friend?
“Thanks..” the boy simply mumbles in response, and you almost did a double take on what you just heard. Seungmin and this guy... best friends? Before you can dwell on it long enough, however, you’re already being pulled to your feet by Chuu, and your papers are back in your hands. 
“Let’s go, Y/N!” Chuu beams with enthusiasm, and you could only afford a small smile in return. “Say, which class are you two in this year?”
“2-A,” the boy answers in a composed manner, the anger he released on you must’ve vanished by now, and you could almost see the pink dust coating his face. “What about you, Chuu?” 
You can’t even process the way the guy completely skipped over you to only ask Chuu personally before you blurt out, 
“We’re in the same class?!”
Episode 2: A Bold Strategy 
Bad news: your love letter is gone. 
That bastard fox dude, Jeongin, you learned his name was, must’ve taken it when you bumped into him in the morning. Not that you blame him entirely, because how could you remember to grab your letter in the ocean of textbooks and notebook paper?
Good news: you have his own love letter.
Why good news? Well, that just means he’s in the exact same boat as you, and now you can call yourself even with him. An exchange of love letters, it almost makes your heart calm down for a split second.
Until you read who the letter was addressed to.
There’s no way in hell this guy could get with your best friend. Jeongin, based off of first impressions, is a literal firecracker (who, for some reason, shouts at people he just met), while Chuu is a ball of sunshine. You don’t blame him, though, as almost every male classmate you’ve had has taken some sort of interest in her at some point, and you guess he’s no exception.
Then again, you’re in the same situation as him, crushing on somebody way out of your league.
While Seungmin is a star student, always willing to help people out and socialize, you’re a total outcast who can barely get average grades in school. Seungmin just so happened to be one of two (the other being Chuu) who’s approached you willingly, and that’s why you fell for him. That charming smile of his, and his caring nature. It was all too much for you.
As you thought about it more, flipping Jeongin’s love letter to Chuu between the flesh of your fingers, it’s not a terrible idea to help out Jeongin. He may currently have a 0% chance of getting with Chuu, but if you succeed and play a bit of matchmaking, he could return the favor to you.
You like his best friend, he likes your best friend...
You gently rip open the envelope encasing Jeongin’s letter, and start reading.
Episode 3: The Cupid Game Begins
“Uh, Jeongin-” you tap the boy’s shoulder once, which was conveniently right in front of your desk. He continues to talk to the people around him, which makes you tap his shoulder harder.
Jeongin whips his head around to meet your calm eyes, only turning slightly frightened when you flinch at his sudden movement. “Wha- Ah! What do you want?” He says in an aggravated tone.
“Sorry,” you apologize quickly for making him jump, not wanting to cause another scene like yesterday. “I just need to talk to you about something for a few minutes.”
Jeongin lets out a groan, fixing his position so he can look behind him more comfortably. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”
“Something I’m sure you don’t want your friends to hear,” you respond casually, picking at the skin on your fingers. The boy’s eyes visibly perk up at your reasoning, and finally nods. “Thanks,” you say to him and stand up, pushing in your seat.
“Careful Jeongin!”
“Fight back if they hit you!”
You let out a deep sigh at the comments directed towards you, not even bothering to shoot them a glance in response. It’ll only make the rumors worse, you think as you walk out of the classroom, Jeongin trailing behind your footsteps after closing the door.
The hallway was silent once you stepped out of your class, no longer hearing the chattering of your fellow classmates about the latest gossip and homework. You could only hear your very own footsteps, along with Jeongin’s feet, which were behind you. Once the two of you made your way to the vending machines near the school stairs, you take out the coin you were holding in your hand and insert it into one of the machines.
“Which drink do you want?” you ask the boy without turning to face him, fishing out another coin in your mini wallet.
“The melon one-” Jeongin does a double take, not believing what he heard as he watches you insert another coin into the vending machine. “Wait, why are you buying a drink for me?” He questions your antics, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.
You stick your hand into the machine to grab Jeongin’s drink, making eye contact with him as you hand it over. “Why not? Is there a reason I should be buying you a drink?”
“Well, I mean,” Jeongin scratches the back of his neck in confusion. “Aren’t you supposed to be... a delinquent?”
You chuckle at his explanation, “Does that mean you’re a fox? Our nicknames in this school are only based off of our appearances, isn’t that funny?” Joining him on the floor, you crack open your own drink. “So no, I’m not a delinquent, and I’ll never be one.”
“That’s not what I’m here to talk about anyways,” you don’t bother to check Jeongin’s facial expressions as you continue, starting to take out his envelope before you’re stopped by him.
“Wait! I have something to give you too,” Jeongin stops your movement, slipping out something from his pocket as well.
“Is this yours?” 
You both say at the same time, revealing each other’s envelopes. There’s yours, with a tacky, red heart sticker stamped onto the envelope to seal it. Then there’s Jeongin’s, with only the word “To: Chuu” on the back.
Jeongin quickly snatches his letter from your hand, and quickly throws your own onto your lap. “Uh, thanks for returning it. You didn’t- Give it to Chuu for her to read... right?”
“Of course not.”
“And you didn’t read what’s inside?”
“..You got me there, I’ll admit it,” you chuckle slightly, raising your hands in defeat as your face starts to grow hot. Jeongin hums a bit, surprisingly not even a tad bit angry at your confession.
“Well,” Jeongin leans back against the wall. “I guess we’re even then.”
“What?!” you exclaim in surprise. “I mean- Yeah, cool. Actually, this works out perfectly.”
“Why?”
“I have a proposal for you,” you start. “We both like each other’s best friend, right? So we could be each other’s wingman and try to get with our crush. It’ll just take a bit of cooperation, though.”
Jeongin scoffs, “You made me look like a fool on the first day of school, why should I?”
“Well, besides being the apparent ‘delinquent’ of this school, I’d say I’m quite good at matchmaking thanks to Chuu, a cupid, you could almost say,” you cross your arms in defense. “Then again, since I’ve already read your sappy love letter to Chuu, I could always tell her that-”
“Fine!” Jeongin finally gives in. “I’m in, I’m in. I have absolutely no idea how I could get somebody like Seungmin to like somebody like you, but if you’re able to get me and Chuu into a relationship, I’ll try my best to play cupid. Okay?”
“I’m just going to ignore that comment about me and take it,” you shrug, standing up after checking the clock on the wall. “I’ll give you my address on a piece of paper later, so we could meet up and start planning.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jeongin follows your actions, standing up and tossing his drink into the trash can. 
“Remind me to pay you back for the drink, by the way.”
Episode 4: His Angelic Neighbor
“How ironic.”
“How ironic, indeed,” Jeongin agrees with you, the two of you standing at the entrance of Eda Apartments Complex, your backpacks on your back.
The studio apartment complex the both of you just so happen to live in, that is.
Part of you is relieved that you live near Jeongin, so maybe you could get to know him better (not as a friend, of course, but to see if Chuu would actually like him), and of course to work out your cupid plans together. However, the other part of you is confused as to why you’ve never even seen him around your apartment until now. 
These thoughts run through your head as Jeongin leads you to his apartment, walking up a lengthy three flights of stairs, as opposed to your usual two. 
When he’s about to open the door to his place, Jeongin turns around to face you, key in hand. “Whatever you do, don’t comment about my place.”
“Okay...?” you comply with an incredibly confused tone, but it seems to be enough for Jeongin, as he swings the door open.
Soda cans upon soda cans are messily piled up near a trash can, which was overflowing with paper plates and tissues. His bed, which is in the corner of the room (which, to be fair, it’s a studio apartment, and you have the same bed layout as him), wasn’t even made, and what you could assume to be a dining table had leftover Chinese takeout boxes on it.
When you peered into the sink after reluctantly placing your belongings near the door, it’s almost clogged up with muck and filth, making a shiver run down your spine. Not to mention, when you asked Jeongin if you could have a drink from the fridge, all your eyes could see were frozen meals & rows of soda and juice. How long has Jeongin been living this way?
“Uhm, hate to mention this to you,” you close the fridge gently after grabbing a can of soda. “but your place is really-”
“What did I say to you before I opened the door?” Jeongin fires back before you could finish.
You stay silent.
“Exactly. Now can we please start talking about our ‘Cupid Plans’ as you like to refer to it?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow at you, taking out the items in his backpack. 
“It’s a cute name, okay?” you respond, making your way to the table as Jeongin pushes the takeout boxes to the side. “And we’ll be studying too, we have a quiz tomorrow, remember?”
“I’ll rather do the studying later,” Jeongin. “So what does Chuu like?”
“Hmm...” it takes you a moment to think about what your best friend likes when it comes to love, which is a bit strange, because you’d think you’d know what Chuu likes after watching people confess to her after all these years. “I think she’d prefer something planned? Even extravagant, if you really push it. She likes plushies and small gifts.”
“What about Seungmin?” you ask Jeongin.
It also takes Jeongin a second to come up with an answer. “He’s always been into nerdy, yet bubbly people, I guess? Since you’re so antisocial, though, he probably won’t like somebody like you right now.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“I’m only trying to help!”
The conversation shifts slightly, and to your surprise, flows well despite your polar opposite personality. You and Jeongin discuss possible ideas as to how both of you could help each other out while studying for your upcoming quiz. 
“And for equation 17, would it be-” you lift your head up from your math textbook, only to see Jeongin using his arm as a pillow and sleeping on his own book. You blink a couple times in disbelief, but remember that you’ve been over at his house for a little over three hours at this point. Shrugging, you gently close your textbook and decide to call it a day at Jeongin’s place.
But then you go back to your senses and remember how filthy of an apartment you’ve been at this entire time. The more you look at your surroundings, the more you desire to clean up the place.
A neat freak, that’s what everybody calls you. It’s what your mom taught you all throughout your childhood, and it’s a trait you’ve kept until now.
Your mind goes into autopilot mode as you start moving around his place left and right. Somehow, you were able to find a box of plastic gloves stored in the back of the sink cabinet, so you put a pair on and start cleaning. Tying up garbage bags and cleaning out the sink, you also make the effort to place the leftover Chinese food into the fridge after checking if it’s spoiled or not. Most people would stare at you in confusion, but you shake your head at the thought, only hoping that Jeongin would at least appreciate your efforts. 
By the end of your cleaning session, you could now call the studio apartment an apartment, and not some kind of swamp. Pleased at your work, you take out one of your notebooks and rip out a piece of paper, grabbing a pencil along the way. You write a quick note for Jeongin to read when he wakes up:
“Cleaned up your place while you were asleep, I could also cook for you and teach you how to cook? (Chuu likes food) text me: xxx-xxx-xxxx”
Swinging your backpack onto your pack, you leave his apartment and make your way to your own.
Later that night, your phone dings with a message from an unknown number.
[Unknown: i’m so tired of frozen meals and takeout, please cook for me (and teach me how)]
Episode 5: However
“Here’s your lunch, Yang,” you pass your spare lunchbox to the seat in front of you, which Jeongin takes gratefully. Chuu, who was making her way over to the seat next to you, catches sight of your interaction with Jeongin.
“Y/N’s food is good, isn’t it Jeongin?” Chuu strikes up a conversation right away, leaving Jeongin flustered, and most likely burning hot.
“Y-Yeah, it is.”
“Say, you two have been talking a lot lately,” Chuu starts talking as you tilt your head up to take a sip of your drink. “Have you two been, or should I say, has Y/N finally gotten a-”
You choke on your drink, almost spitting it all over Jeongin’s back before catching yourself. Jeongin has almost the same reaction as you, only choking on the food you prepared for him instead. It had only been two weeks of school; two weeks of talking to Jeongin solely about each other’s crush, and yet Chuu believes that you two have something going on.
“Absolutely not, Chuu.”
“Yeah, no way.”
You exchange a glare with Jeongin, almost in a panicked manner. If Chuu believes that you two are dating, that would practically be the end of your chances to be with Seungmin, same going for Jeongin with Chuu.
“Alrighty then, I trust you two,” Chuu leans back in the chair she’s sitting on, before promptly getting up and making her way to the door of the classroom. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”
As soon as she closes the door, Jeongin immediately leans over to your desk, ignoring his bento box. “We have to do something about what Chuu said.”
“Duh, there’s no way we could let her think that about us,” you agree with him. “What are some solutions? We could try to be more distant with each other, which honestly I don’t think either of us would mind too much. I could simply tell Chuu that we aren’t even close friends, or-”
“You need to confess to Seungmin,” Jeongin bluntly tells you, catching you off guard. 
“What- why would I do that?!” you almost yell at the boy in front of his face. His plan is all kinds of crazy, you would’ve never thought of it yourself.
“You’ve known Seungmin longer than I’ve known Chuu, so you have a lower risk of being rejected. And if you actually end up dating Seungmin, then Chuu would know that us two aren’t a couple,” Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s a win-win situation.”
You scoff, “And if I get rejected?”
“I’ll like- I don’t know, buy you ice cream?” Jeongin attempts to persuade you, to which you sigh as a response. 
“I guess I’ll trust you on this.”
The day passes by without a hitch, to your utter shock, as the churning in your stomach says otherwise. The thought of impulsively confessing to your long time crush makes you feel lightheaded and dizzy, as it was something you’ve never done before. However, your stubbornness is refusing you to back down from Jeongin’s wild plan, so here you are, face to face with Seungmin at the roof of the school.
“Erm- So-”
“The weather is pretty nice today, isn’t it Y/N?” Seungmin casually breaks the ice wall between you two.
The sudden question catches you off guard. “Ah, yes.. yes it is...” Already, you could feel the heat rising up your body, even when the weather today was particularly cloudy. “Uhm, I brought you here to tell you something, Seungmin.”
“Oh, what is it?” Seungmin seems surprised at your statement, but the voice in your head tells you otherwise. He’s smart enough to look through people, you know that already, so why are you trying to hide your feelings when you’re already this far?
It’s time to take a leap of faith, you think, as you take in a large breath before telling him everything. “Uh, you see.. I’ve always appreciated you ever since you approached me that one day. Nobody’s ever done that for me except for you and Chuu, and because of that I think you’re a.. great person... What- What I’m trying to say here is-”
“I like you, Seungmin.”
You tilt your head downwards, almost in shame as you play with your fingers anxiously. Letting out a shaky exhale, you can’t believe that you just confessed all of those things to your own crush. Your heart beating a thousand miles a second, it felt like you were about to explode from either embarrassment or anticipation; quite possibly even both at the same time.
“You, know, Y/N..” Seungmin starts to chuckle, grabbing onto his left wrist with his right hand.
“I used to like you.”
That made you look back up at him in shock, blinking a couple times out of disbelief. “Really?!”
Seungmin simply hums, confirming what he just stated. “That’s why I approached you in the first place. There was something about you that drew me into talking to you. And of course, you didn’t disappoint me,” he flashes you a comforting smile, but it soon goes away at his next word.
“However...”
Seungmin leaves you hanging after that one word: however. His mouth opens and closes, most likely trying to come up with the right words to say. You wobble your feet back and forth, becoming more and more impatient.
But then, he says something. A simple, ten word sentence. Not a compound nor a complex sentence. Easy for a little kid to understand.
“I hope we can be good friends in the future.” 
And yet it cracks your heart.
In a blink of an eye, Seungmin has disappeared from your view. An unexpected wind blows through your body, almost feeling like a comforting pat on the back after being rejected; friend-zoned. 
You make your way to the front of the school, dragging your feet in a lazy manner. Jeongin’s head perks up when he nears footsteps, only to gaze down at your slumped figure. Letting out a deep exhale, you give Jeongin a glare that could cut him in half; one of disappointment and exhaustion.
“You owe me ice cream.”
The ice cream place is about two blocks away from your apartment complex, decorated in obnoxious pastel colors that make your eyes squint. Jeongin is relatively quiet throughout your walk there, only offering to carry your backpack if it’s too heavy for you, to which you declined quietly. You can feel the burn of his eyes on top of your head, anticipating for you to let out a scream in anger, but you’re simply not that kind of person. 
You remain deep in thought even when you sit down, grabbing a menu to cover your face. Jeongin’s eyes remain on your figure, and you wonder if he’s actually, genuinely, worried for you.
“Er, what do you want to order?” Jeongin asks you in an attempt to break the tension. “I’ll pay, since you seem a bit heartbroken right now-”
“Hi, welcome 901 Freeze Treats Parlor-” you look up from the menu at the sound of a familiar, cheery voice.
You forgot Chuu works here.
And you forgot to tell Jeongin that information.
“Oh, Y/N! And Jeongin, hi guys,” Chuu flashes a grin at the both of you, and you can’t help but smile and almost giggle at how Jeongin grows beetroot red. She’s sporting a pair of pigtails in her hair, and the striped uniform topped with a cute hat on top. “What can I get you guys?” “I’ll- I’ll get the banana split Chuu!” Jeongin exclaims a bit too loud, attracting the rest of the customers at the parlor. Chuu, although a bit confused, seems to enjoy Jeongin’s enthusiasm for ice cream and writes down the order.
You set down the menu and point to what you want with a hum, to which Chuu bends forward slightly in order to see what you want. “You always order that, Y/N! Don’t you want to try something else?”
“I’m good, Chuu, thanks,” you give her a gentle smile, praying that she won’t comment about how tired and defeated you look. Fortunately for you, she leaves you alone, and you’re left back with just Jeongin.
“How have my letters been doing?” Jeongin blurts out before he could stop himself, covering his mouth with one of his hands soon after. “I- I mean, I shouldn’t.. really ask when you’re sad.. but I mean I might as well ask you since we just talked to her, right? Sorry-”
“They’re doing good, she likes them a lot,” you reply softly to the frantic boy, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your answer. You’ve spent the past few weeks helping Jeongin write love letters to Chuu, even decorating them with cute stickers. For once, your writing skills can come into play, and you haven’t let Jeongin down yet. “And it’s okay, my head is just in the clouds. At least he let me down gently.”
“What exactly did he say?” Jeongin eggs you on, wanting you to elaborate further.
“Something along the lines of us being good friends in the future,” you explain to him. “He even said that he used to like me, but I don’t know-”
“Then you still have a chance, right?” Jeongin doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence before jumping in. “He left the door wide open for you to walk into, or- something like that at least. And, now thinking about it, I actually do think he used to like you.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re only saying that to make me feel better about this.”
“No, really! He mentioned that he liked somebody quiet and mysterious, and that he was gravitated towards that person. He told me that he would approach that person someday. It must’ve been you! I’ve known Seungmin for years, and this is one of two times he’s told me about his crushes,” Jeongin carries on with his own explanation. “So, in conclusion, I still believe it’s possible to win over his heart.”
Your lips press into a thin line, “You sure? Like, you’re absolutely positive about this?”
Jeongin nods, and for the first time since you’ve met him, he sends you a genuinely positive smile. It’s not like the annoyed snarks or the cheeky smirks he gives you all the time, but rather, something you could find comfort in. Just like Seungmin’s smile.
“Okay then, I’ll trust you.”
Episode 6: Swimming Lessons 
“Did you guys hear that the school’s swimming pool is opening next week?” A masculine voice you know all too well, yet you wish you didn’t at the same time, is heard from behind your back. Seungmin locks eyes with you as he tosses an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder while you continue walking down the hallway. 
It’s all too weird in your opinion that Seungmin is actually even friendlier after rejecting you. Because, shouldn’t the two of you be distant for at least a week or two? You guess that’s just not how Seungmin operates, then, as he dove right back into talking with you after that dreadful day on the school rooftop. 
“Yeah, Seung!” Jeongin answers with a joyful tone, giving you the chance to break your eye contact with Seungmin. You, on the other hand, were not a swimmer whatsoever.
Being submerged into a body of water to the point where your toes can’t reach the ground has never been ideal for you. Any kind of physical action required to even survive in the water is off putting in your option, so you’ve always stuck to dipping your feet into the water and nothing else.
But you guess that changes starting today.
“You know Seungmin,” Jeongin starts to say, “Y/N is actually a pretty good swimmer! I think they could even beat you in a swimming race.”
Your head jumps up in surprise, eyes widening when Jeongin turns to you. He mumbles the words “trust me” before going back to Seungmin. How many times will you have to trust Jeongin and his crazy schemes?
“Oh, really?”
Jeongin hums in confirmation, ignoring the side nudges coming from you. 
“Then we should race once the pool opens, Y/N!” Seungmin suggests with visible excitement beaming from his face. 
Your gut immediately tells you to deny, but then you have to consider Jeongin’s “trust me.” He seems fairly confident that everything would work out, so is the risk worth the possible reward?
“Oh- Uhm... Sure! Sure, let’s.. let’s race, yeah,” you manage to let out before you could change your mind. “Just give me time to prepare, I, uh, haven’t swam in a while.”
“Of course!” Seungmin grins. “Let’s do it in two weeks, okay?
All you could respond with is a nod, which Seungmin takes without anymore questions. He bids the both of you well, and makes a left to the student council room. 
You feel like a puddle of mush, waiting to collapse onto the tile floor of the school hallway. “I. Hate. You,” you scowl harshly at Jeongin.
“What?” Jeongin is caught off guard at your sudden hostility. “You never mentioned that you were afraid of the pool, and I don’t think it’s that bad of an idea. This is your chance to impress Seungmin!”
You scratch your head in confusion and denial. “Isn’t this a bit much, though? And who’s going to teach me how to swim?”
“You could always get me back with any ridiculous idea on how to get Chuu to like me,” Jeongin suggests to you. “And I’ll teach you, I’m a decent swimmer.”
“Sure, sure. Thanks for the idea, by the way,” you comment with a smirk, watching as Jeongin’s expression turns into one of regret.
“Now, teach me how to swim.”
An entire two weeks pass, and with those two weeks, comes the opening of the school pool. Although the vast majority of your classmates are genuinely excited to get a chance to cool down in the recent, scorching weather, you’re visibly less enthusiastic about it. You still try to keep a smile on your face with Seungmin is around though, so he doesn’t see through the lie Jeongin spontaneously made up.
“Y/N!” Chuu approaches you after exiting the changing room near the pool; you’ve already changed prior to her. “Your race with Seungmin is today, right? I see you’re all decked out in floaties.”
“Yeah, I’m just, uh- using them for safety purposes.” you give her a short and sweet response due to the churning in your stomach after being reminded of the event happening today. It’s a shame that your entire class knows what’s going down in just a few minutes, because they’re all anticipating your match with Seungmin. “The Delinquent vs The Student Pet” is what they’ve dubbed the match.
Also, Seungmin was generous enough to add onto the rules that floats were allowed to be used. So now you have floats all around your figure: some attached onto you, some you have to hold. 
“Hey Y/N-” Jeongin stops walking towards you after noticing Chuu, her hair in a braid and only wearing a casual swimsuit. “Oh- Hi Chuu!”
Chuu acknowledges Jeongin’s presence, but quickly turns back to you. “I hope you win the race, Y/N. I have faith that you could do it!”
“Y-Yeah Y/N! We didn’t train all for nothing,” Jeongin adds onto Chuu’s comment. Thankfully, although Chuu doesn’t even know that you couldn’t swim prior to now, she doesn’t question Jeongin’s extra addition of training. “Let’s head over to the start of the pool? Seungmin’s already there, I’m just here to fetch Y/N.”
“Okay! I’m referee as well, so I have to be there too,” Chuu claims, and the three 
Seungmin turns around from a group of boys to greet you, “Hey, Y/N! Ready for our match?
“H-Hey Seungmin,” you greet him with a friendly, yet shy tone, along with a nod.
“Okay!” Chuu gathers everybody’s attention with just the sound of her voice. “We’re here today to watch the race of Y/N vs Seungmin. On the count of three, I’ll blow my whistle and they’ll start swimming. You must go to the end of the pool, and right back to where we are right now. Ready?”
“3...”
“Also, just to calm your nerves a bit,” Seungmin whispers to just you right before the race begins.
“2...”
“I already know that you didn’t know how to swim before this. It’s okay if you fail, I’ll make sure nobody makes fun of you. Just stay safe, okay?”
“1...”
Your breath hitches for a split second, but before you can fully process what Seungmin just confessed to you, the whistle blows. 
Seungmin dives into the water head first, while you jump in measly with your feet touching the water before the rest of your body. By the time you’re able to start kicking your legs, Seungmin is already ahead of you, so you push against the wall using your feet and start doggy paddling. It’s quite pathetic, and you’re sure that’s what everybody is thinking as they watch you swim, but it doesn’t matter at this point. 
Or does it?
Because while you’re swimming across the pool, your brain just had to remind yourself about what Seungmin said seconds before the race started. He already knew you couldn’t swim, so it’s not really about impressing him anymore. 
Then again, it’s not necessarily about winning, but about showing Seungmin that you’re dedicated enough to try new things to have fun with him.
That’s why it matters now.
However, it feels like you’re sinking.
Throughout the race, you’ve lost float after float, and now you only have the two floats that wrap around your arms. The water is slowly starting to touch your lips, and falling into a standing position, making your situation even worse. Your heart pounds faster and faster in a panicked frenzy, struggling to comprehend what to do.
Thankfully, cupid comes to rescue you.
He jumps into the pool like a lifeguard, placing his hands near your armpits before pulling you out of the water with a surprising amount of strength. Despite the midst of chaos you were put in, you’re able to hear cheers and applauds, signaling that Seungmin must’ve finished the race. Once again, you’re left to vanish, with the only other misunderstood student to help you.
You feel the surface of the concrete outside of the pool on your bottom as you cough out water. Yet, Jeongin is nowhere in your sight.
That’s when you realized. He’s submerged under the water.
You assume that he must’ve lost energy while saving you, resulting in the two of you swapping places. Eyes widening at the sight, you sprint across the flooring of the pool site, screaming your lungs out for somebody to help.
“Shit!” you curse yourself when you finally get the an adult’s attention after being unable to get a classmate to help you. All of your classmates ended up next to Seungmin, aka, the opposite end of where you stopped swimming. It’s only when the teacher pulls Jeongin’s unconscious body out of the water for it to lay down that it grabs everybody’s attention, swarming to see what was happening.
That’s when you snap.
“I’m disappointed in all of you right now!” you scold all of your classmates, something you’d never think you’d get the courage to do until now. “All of you were focused on that stupid race, but you never bothered to check on Jeongin. He could’ve died because of your ignorance! I hope you all know that.”
After leaving your classmates’ mouths agape, you storm out of the crowd, and make your way to the changing room. Nobody, not even Chuu or Seungmin, bothers to approach you.
Later that day, after some of your classmates apologized for not noticing what was happening, you, and a now in-stable-condition Jeongin, walk home after an exhausting day. Not many words are said, just like your regular walks after each school day, until Jeongin turns to you.
“Uhm, I just wanna say..” Jeongin starts to speak,. “Thanks for defending me earlier after I drowned.”
You blink in surprise, “Wait, you heard all of that?”
“Yeah, I was already conscious for a few seconds before you started going off on them. But thank you, seriously. I appreciate it after being misunderstood by our classmates for all these years,” Jeongin sighs, and then gives you another one of his kind smiles.
“Of course...” your mouth forms a thin line after you mumble out those two words.
Why is your heart fluttering like Jeongin’s pair of cupid wings?
Episode 7: All For Your Happiness 
“Hey Chuu, listen to this!” you hold your phone right next to Chuu’s ear, which was playing the sounds you’d find at a haunted mansion. She yelps once she realizes what she’s listening to, and pushes your phone away with her palm, making everybody laugh.
Never in a million years would you find yourself sitting on a train with Chuu, Jeongin, and Seungmin all at once. The four of you were on your way to Chuu’s beach house, a place you’ve been to before during every summer break prior to this one, but it was always just the two of you. Now, however, you have your very own crush tagging along, plus his own best friend (and you don’t exactly know what you should call him anymore... Friend? Good Friend? Partner in Crime? Cupid Partner?). 
And you and Jeongin have a plan. One time, for once, you came up with, and you believe that it’s less traumatizing than nearly drowning in a pool.
It just so turns out that Jeongin is a horror movie enthusiast, so he slipped multiple DVD sets of horror movie classics into his suitcase to do a watching marathon at the beach house. It also turns out that Chuu is terrified of anything that could scare her, like jump scares. So, the plan is for Jeongin to become Chuu’s knight in shining armor for whenever she gets scared during this trip.
“Why are you making me listen to all of these things?” Chuu whines with a pout. To be fair, you’ve been making her listen to these chilling noises for the entire train ride, to the point where you’re almost at your stop.
“It’s kind of funny to watch your reactions, that’s all,” you semi lie, because while it is a bit hilarious to see Chuu’s dramatic reactions, you’re waiting for the moment for Jeongin to strike. 
And it’s at that moment when Jeongin finally speaks up, “Er- Chuu! If you ever get scared during this trip, come to me and I’ll-”
You mouth the word “protect” to Jeongin once he stops speaking.
“Uh- protect you!” Jeongin finishes after looking at you.
“Oh okay!” Chuu gives Jeongin a heartfelt grin. “I’ll make sure to go to you then, thanks!”
Jeongin nods eagerly, something Seungmin chuckles at, and you lean back in your seat at ease. If you’re able to successfully help Jeongin be Chuu’s knight during this trip, you’re certain that Chuu will at least take some interest at Jeongin. 
The train reaches your destination swiftly after Jeongin’s interaction with Chuu, and after a quick bus ride and a trek to the beach, you’ve finally reached Chuu’s family beach house.
“Wow, this is awesome Chuu!” Seungmin shouts gleefully as he looks at the house. The house is relatively small and gives off a modern feel, but it’s fortunately enough to fit four people in.
Chuu smiles at the compliment, “Thank you! My family is fortunate enough to own a place like this for the summer. But since my parents are always overseas when summer rolls around, this place turns into a paradise for Y/N and I!”
“Anyways,” Chuu continues. “We should probably clean up the house since it hasn’t been used since last year, but I say we go play on the beach first!”
While Seungmin and Jeongin nod their heads eagerly, a lightbulb is turned on in your head.
“Actually,” you speak up. “I’ll go on ahead and clean up the house first. It’s probably messy inside, and you guys know how much of a ‘neat freak’ I am.”
Jeongin seems to catch onto your idea, his eyebrows rising, “Oh, then I’ll clean up with Y/N too!”
“But you seem really excited for the beach Jeongin,” Seungmin questions, but Jeongin waves it off.
“It’s okay! You two can go play first,” Jeongin insists, and the other two don’t ask anymore questions, heading towards the ocean. “You really are a smart person, aren’t you Y/N?”
There it is; that fluttering in your heart again, but why now? “Well, you’re smart for catching on. Let’s go place scary traps all over the house?”
“Heck yeah.”
After some time cleaning up the house (and making what would be Seungmin and Jeongin’s room especially clean) and placing various objects around the rooms to create a horror effect, the two of you had finally joined the others at the beach. It was then that the “Scare Chuu Montage” officially began.
During your time at the beach, you attempted to kick some seaweed at Chuu’s legs to make her jump, but the ocean water never agreed to your intentions and spared her. That night, Chuu walked into the dark bathroom only to meet eyes with a reflection in the mirror. But when Jeongin came rushing over, Chuu had already turned on the light and saw the makeshift face you created on the mirror using face cream and cotton balls. 
The second day, Chuu woke up to the sound of being a woman screaming her head off, making her jump out of her bed in alert. It was simply a sound you found on the internet, but at least it woke up her up. The day was spent shopping at the nearby mall, so you couldn’t do very much to scare Chuu other than to hide at various nooks and crannies. You also ordered for Jeongin to stay by Chuu’s side at all times, but he didn’t do very much other than attempt to hold her hand (which was a very poor attempt, so of course, he failed). At least you and Seungmin talked individually while getting some ice cream, and to your utter surprise, it wasn’t that awkward.
The third day, you finally got Seungmin on board with your plans. Although a bit skeptical at first, you insisted that it would be a fun and harmless prank, and counteracted him by saying he laughed when Chuu got scared during the train ride. With Seungmin teaming up with you and Jeongin (without knowing your real intentions with the pranks), the horror movie marathon started despite Chuu’s pleads (to ensure that Chuu didn’t find any other movie disks around the place, you hid them all on the first day in a location she’d never look). 
With Jeongin and Chuu on the couch and you and Seungmin on the floor, you don’t think it’s possible for the two to still be away from each other after this marathon ends. The first movie starts off generally slow pacing, but it’s enough for Chuu to mutter out pleas of worry for the characters. Jeongin quietly laughs at her antics, telling her once more that he’s there if she needs to be comforted, and you give Jeongin a mental high five. 
By the end of the night, the two were cuddling, Chuu’s face looking especially scarred, while you and Seungmin finished the massive bowl of popcorn. When the lights finally came on, Chuu and Jeongin finally realized the position they were both in, and quickly scurried away from each other to your amusement. 
The fourth morning came shortly afterwards, and with that morning came the end of your trip at the beach house. Although it was spent mostly with your attempts at scaring your very own best friend, you still had fun yourself, and even spent some time with your crush.
And it seemed like your efforts finally paid off, because Chuu wanted to talk with Jeongin privately. 
After Jeongin shoots a glance at you while walking off to a private room of the house with Chuu, you quickly shuffle your feet over when Chuu’s not looking, placing your back against the wall. You hear footsteps inside the room before they suddenly stop, and then hushed whispers are all you could hear.
But then, Jeongin’s voice increases in volume. 
“You.. You knew that we were pranking you?” 
Your next breath gets caught up in your throat once you realize what exactly that meant. 
You failed?
Chuu hums, “I did, but I didn’t bother to tell you because it looked like you and Y/N were having so much fun. Actually, I was only guessing that you were pranking me this entire time, until Seungmin came and confirmed it with me.”
“Seungmin?!”
“Yeah, Seungmin! I guess he played you guys,” Chuu laughs. “At least you had fun on this trip! I actually did, too, because I love scary stuff. I’m not afraid of it at all.”
“Oh...”
“Hey, cheer up! You made me happy, and you’re happy too, isn’t that what matters?” Chuu reassures Jeongin. “Anyways, we should continue packing. I just wanted to get that off of my chest.”
You hear more footsteps, and then something that sounds like a cushioned thud.
“Thank you, Jeongin.”
You must’ve heard Jeongin squeak, because he has to clear his throat before answering. “S-Sure, Chuu. Yeah, of course!” Jeongin says the last few words more confidently as Chuu giggles.
That’s when you rushed into the nearest bathroom moments after the door swings open. The shuffling of footsteps is heard again, until they stop once more, and then somebody knocks on the door.
“I know you’re there, Y/N,” Jeongin claims, and that’s your signal to open the door.
“Yeah, but that’s not what matters here!” Jeongin’s eyes are wide open as he lets out wheeze after wheeze. “I- No- We made her happy, Y/N! She really enjoyed these past couple of days! And, and! She gave me a hug, Y/N!! I don’t think I’ll ever get over this, seriously. I’m falling for her more and more.”
It’s the first time that you’ve seen Jeongin as giddy as this, in the several months you’ve known him. Is this what love does to people? Is it supposed to make their heart burst like what you’re seeing right now?
Because, if so, why don’t you feel like that for Seungmin anymore?
Note to self: Jeongin, out of all people, loves hugs.
Episode 8: And He’s Gone 
Seungmin has been acting.. rather odd lately. 
To be fair, the school festival had just ended, plus the student council election was about to occur, so you’d reckon he must be exhausted as vice president of the council. Perhaps he must be busy thinking of ways to campaign (not that he needs to, everybody agrees that he’s the best person to become the next president) or maybe he’s just getting a good rest.
But that’s not what Jeongin claims.
[Jeongin: he doesn’t want to run for president]
[You: really?!]
[Jeongin: yeah, but he won’t even tell me the reason]
[You: ahhh what do we do now T-T]
[You: on one hand we should respect his decision]
[You: but on the other, the school will crumble without him]
[Jeongin: idk y/n]
[Jeongin: i could try to explain to him why he should run or at least try to get his reasoning]
[You: yeah you should do that]
[Jeongin: cya]
You drop your phone down onto your chest, sighing heavily. Rolling over on your bed to face the window, you ponder as to why Seungmin would make such an impulsive decision like that. He was always so passionate about being a member of the student council, so why is he backing away from it now?
“Bad news: I wasn’t able to get any info from Seungmin,” Jeongin confesses as the two of you walk to school for another day. “Good news: I have a plan in case Seungmin truly doesn’t want to run for president!”
“It seems like all of your plans are either dumb, crazy, or both,” you retort back at him. “But shoot.”
“One of us runs for president!”
“Don’t shoot, nevermind.”
“No no no, you have to listen to me for this,” Jeongin attempts to persuade you. “Because after you hear my explanation, you’ll probably think it’s a good idea.”
You stay silent.
Jeongin continues though, “So, if one of us runs for president, and campaigns really bad, we’re talking ‘I’m going to give everybody six ounces of homework when I become president’ bad, then Seungmin would want to jump in to save the school!” 
“Why don’t we make somebody else do it? Like- Chuu for example!” you insist, but Jeongin’s not having any of it.
“Chuu’s too popular, she might actually win. So it has to be one of us.”
“Then you do it because it’s your idea.”
“Nope.”
You sigh in defeat, “Rock paper scissors?” Jeongin nods, and gets his hands out. You’re quite confident that you’ll win, as you’re somehow incredibly good at rock papers scissors. Jeongin seems like the type of person to throw out scissors as a first move, and since this isn’t a best out of three game, you have to take your shot.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
Your rock is meant with his paper as Jeongin chuckles, covering your fist with his hand.
“Looks like you’re running for president!” Jeongin beams at you.
It’s now a week after your rock paper scissor match with Jeongin, the reason you’re even here in the first place. Next to you is a set of speakers, and in your hand is a megaphone. Taking a deep breath, and taking the time to glance at the boy behind you, you put the megaphone next to your mouth.
“Listen up you morons!” you shout at the confused crowd of students beneath your feet, trying to ignore the burning of your face. “I, Y/L/N Y/N, am running for president! So unless any of you cowards decide to run as well, I’ll be your new president! Get used to it!”
“Y/N’s running?”
“Out of all people?”
“Gosh, why isn’t Seungmin here when we need him?”
You continue on with your speech, going on and on about how you’re basically going to rip this school into shreds. You start to worry that you’ll be doing this until the school bell rings for first period, starting to question how much courage you have left to not collapse out of embarrassment, until he finally shows up.
“Excuse me! Sorry, I need to get through!”
“Why are you doing this, Y/N? And why are you helping them Jeongin?! This isn’t like you guys,” Seungmin demands with a worried expression on his face.
You and Jeongin look at each other, before you decide to answer. “We’re doing this because you weren’t running for president for some dumb reason. This school needs you, Seungmin!”
Seungmin’s mouth forms on “o” shape as he realizes your intentions, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
He chuckles, “You really are something, aren’t you Y/N?” Seungmin’s expression softens when he meets your eyes, showing gratitude. He gently takes the megaphone from your hands, and clears his throat.
“My name is Kim Seungmin, and I will be your next student council president!”
An uproar of cheers follow his announcement, and you let out a laugh of relief. Now you could bail out of the election, leaving Seungmin as the only person the school could vote for as president. It’s a win win situation.
Until the election ceremony rolls around.
All of the students are packed into the gymnasium, each class standing in rows. On the stage you could see the current student council members, along with Seungmin, and your heart races for him. 
He’s called up to the front of the stage after being announced as the school’s new president, and a thunder of applause booms through the gym. Seungmin stands in front of the microphone.
“I’m Kim Seungmin, I’m your new president, and... and-”
“I am in love with our former president, Park Jihyo!”
He’s in love... with Jihyo?
Jeongin immediately turns to look at you, his mouth agape just like yours. The rest of the audience starts murmuring to each other in disbelief. Seungmin, out of all people, pulling a stunt like this? 
Oddly enough though, you don’t feel the same heartburn that you felt the first time you were rejected. It’s almost as if... you’re okay with this.
“You’re the reason why I’m standing here today; because you gave me a purpose at this school! And I know that you’re leaving to study abroad right after I take your role of president, so that’s why I’m shooting my shot today!” Seungmin explains loudly to the microphone, right in front of Jihyo, who’s standing there with an unamused look on her face. “Do I have any chance to be with you? Any chance whatsoever?!”
By the end of his speech, Seungmin is out of breath from shouting so much, and Jihyo seems to be stunned. She quickly shakes her head to clear out her mind, though, and takes the nearest microphone into her hands.
“And here, ladies and gentlemen, is your new student body president,” Jihyo calmly announces to everybody, not even acknowledging Seungmin’s confession at first. 
“I taught him how to be a good leader, and that’s how he ended up on this stage today. I have absolutely no doubt that Seungmin will do an incredible job as body president. I care for him quite deeply, and I hope you will help him succeed at his duties of being president.”
“Please look after my good friend, Kim Seungmin, while I’m gone. Thank you.”
Rejection: unrequited love, but confirmed. To some, it may feel like a glass filled to the brim with water suddenly shattering onto the floor. To others, it’s a gentle, yet brutal, falling of a feather, easing its way to the ground.
While Jeongin thinks that two hearts were broken in that gymnasium, only one truly was.
And it wasn’t yours.
“So you’re saying you’re over Seungmin at this point?” Jeongin’s voice goes higher in pitch when he asks you. “Did I shoot my cupid’s arrow at the wrong person or something?”
You walk in silence for a few moments, letting the both of you ponder for a bit. How do you answer that question without obviously revealing who you truly like?
“Yah,” you ultimately avoid the question. “You never paid me back for that peach drink I bought for you.
Episode 9: Shot an Arrow at Each Other
[Chuu: i think i like him]
[You: who?]
[Chuu: jeongin]
You suck in an unexpected breath, and it’s almost as if your heart stops. Valentines Day is tomorrow, so it’s no wonder that Chuu’s coming to you for love advice. When you don’t reply, Chuu keeps sending texts.
[Chuu: i think i might confess to him on valentines]
[Chuu: and i have suspicion that he’s the one who’s been sending me love letters, but im not too sure]
You gulp, turning over onto your side and tucking yourself further into the sheets of your bed.
[You: then go for it!]
[Chuu: i would but]
[Chuu: i feel like somebody else would be happier with him]
[You: care to elaborate?]
[Chuu: i know there’s somebody else out there who could treat him better than me]
Does Chuu know? Are you that obvious?
[Chuu: y/n]
[Chuu: you have a special connection with jeongin]
[Chuu: you like him, don’t you? ^_^]
That damn emojicon. You could imagine that if this conversation were to happen in person, she would smile at your real big before dropping the bomb.
And you wouldn’t know how to respond. Because she’s right.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to save you from drowning. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to encourage you to confess to Seungmin when you still liked him, and he wasn’t supposed to buy you ice cream
But at the same time, you weren’t supposed to buy him a drink. You weren’t supposed to clean his apartment. You weren’t supposed to cook him meals willingly. You weren’t supposed to help him that much during summer break.
The two of you were supposed to just be each other’s cupid, but because you weren’t, you’ve fallen for him.
[You: but jeongin likes you]
No, you refuse. You refuse to let your emotions get in the way of Jeongin’s and Chuu’s happy ending. You refuse to let your emotions get in the way of what you and Jeongin have been striving for this entire school year. You’re better than that, stronger than that.
But why does it hurt so much?
The next day, Valentines Day, comes faster than you would’ve liked. Normally, this would be your favorite day of the year, because you liked seeing other people happy despite you being alone yourself. The outcasting you’ve put up with for the majority of your school life doesn’t bother you on this day surprisingly, as it’s always fun to see Chuu’s desk swamped with candies and anonymous letters.
It’s fun watching other people be happy.
This year, however, you’re left with a stain in your heart that you’re constantly reminded of throughout the day. Jeongin raves on about how he’s thinking about confessing to Chuu, yet you don’t have the heart or the energy to tell him that Chuu is thinking of the same thing. Then again, it’s better not to get in the way of love, right?
Chuu hasn’t spoken to you much ever since she read your final message to her last night. You don’t blame her, really, but she should do what’s best for her, not what’s best for you.
And Seungmin, to your utter shock, has been pretty chill this Valentines Day, not making a fuss over being rejected by Jihyo. Jihyo has already been abroad for several months at this point, so it’s given time for Seungmin to heal.
You make it through the day without too much distracting you, other than those thoughts buzzing in your head. The bell rings, signaling the end of the draining school day, but Chuu grabs onto your wrist and drags you into an empty classroom.
Your stomach starts churning once more when you see Jeongin and Seungmin in the room. Flinching when Chuu slams the door close a little too hard, you watch as she walks to the center of the room.
“Seungmin, you’re only here if I need backup, okay?” Chuu eases down Seungmin’s nerves, to which he responds with a nod.
“So,” Chuu takes a deep breath. “Don’t you have something to say to me, Y/N and Jeongin?”
You’re caught off guard by the sudden question. “What- What do you mean?”
Chuu only laughs, “You and Jeongin teamed up to make sure I fall in love with Jeongin this year, right?”
You and Jeongin freeze.
“And also, you tried to make Seungmin fall in love with Y/N, yes? But it didn’t work out, which brings us here,” Chuu crosses her arms over her chest. “You know, you almost did make me fall in love with Jeongin. Remember our conversation yesterday, Y/N? About how I was gonna confess to Jeongin?”
You don’t bother to move a muscle, but Jeongin, across the room from you, looks stunned.
“Well, I never bothered with that plan anymore. I realized that I only merely had a crush on Jeongin, and crushes never go that far. So with that being said-”
“Why are you... ruining everything now?” you take the chance to ask Chuu, but your question comes out in a more timid tone than you had anticipated. 
“Ruining everything, you say?” Chuu scoffs. “That’s not what I’m doing here! I’m making sure everybody gets the ending they’re happy with.”
“But this isn’t how it was supposed to go!” you finally yell at the top of your lungs. “Jeongin liked you, and now you like Jeongin. The two of you already have a happy ending, why do you need to push this further?”
“Because you like Jeongin, that’s why!”
You shut your mouth before you could utter another word, panic spreading all over your body. Not even making the effort to look at Jeongin’s current expression, you raise your head up to look at Seungmin, who looks like he could offer you no help whatsoever.
It’s all falling apart.
“Y/N-” Jeongin attempts to speak, but you cut him off without realizing.
“I.. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“You’re running away, Y/N,” Chuu states, which makes you grit your teeth.
“Wait, Y/N, just listen to me-”
“Please, not now-”
“Y/N!”
Once Jeongin shouts your name, Chuu accidentally releases her grip on your wrist, and you flee the classroom, sprinting as fast as you could in your school shoes. Chuu stares at Jeongin once you swiftly exit the classroom, to which Jeongin responds by running after you, Chuu following behind right after after thanking Seungmin for being there.
“You can’t force love! You can’t make two people fall in love with each other!” Chuu tries to tell you while running through the hallways. “Love happens naturally. I might love Jeongin, but Jeongin only had a crush on me, that’s not the same!”
“So I’m willing to put aside my feelings to help two people who truly, genuinely, love each other without any doubt in their hearts! Can’t you see? Jeongin loves you, not me. And you love Jeongin, not anybody else.”
And then Jeongin snaps.
“SHE’S RIGHT!” Jeongin booms. “Y/L/N Y/N, you’re the one I love! I love y-”
But you’re already gone from their sight. The school entrance has no people around, not even a silhouette of you running in the distance. The two catching their breaths at the entrance of your high school, their shoulders slump over in defeat.
Of course, it doesn’t end there.
Hours after the incident, hours after crying over the mixed emotions you experienced this Valentines Day, your doorbell is rung. You hesitate on whether you should even answer the door in the first place, sifting through the possible scenarios in your head. Your feet answers first, though, making your way to the door before your brain could even stop your motions.
It’s a letter, and you know that handwriting.
“come upstairs!”
And despite how reluctant you are, you still head to his apartment.
Jeongin greets you at the door, still wearing his school uniform just like you. In his hand is a rubber spatula, which is somewhat odd because you’ve never seen him hold kitchen utensils unless you were teaching him how to cook.
But there’s the aroma of food coming from the kitchen, one of various vegetables, and even the smell of meat. When you turn the corner, you infer that Jeongin was attempting to cook one of your one pot pasta meals, and it seemed to be almost done.
“Honestly,” Jeongin quickly goes back to tending to his cooking. “I wasn’t even sure if you were going to come, and that would be bad because this is two servings of pasta. But I knew you wouldn’t left me hanging.”
You hum, taking a seat at the dining table that was sparkling clean (something Jeongin kept up with even after you cleaned his apartment). Jeongin brings over two plates of pasta, steam still coming off of them. 
“Try it! It’s your recipe, so unless I messed up something, it should be good,” Jeongin dives in with a fork, slurping up the noodles eagerly as you do the same.
“It’s good, really good, actually,” you compliment him. “But why did you invite me over here?”
“Well,” Jeongin says with food still in his mouth, but he swallows shortly after. “This is a date.”
You almost choke on your food at the word “date” coming out of his mouth. “But what about Chuu-”
“Didn’t you hear Chuu while we were running earlier? She’s content at the fact that we’re about to become a couple. She told me that she rarely ever saw you as bright and as happy before you met me, that’s a good sign, right?” Jeongin smiles at you, and it’s that smile again.
“A good sign that...?”
“You love me too.”
You pause your movements for a full three second, before you laugh tiredly. The realization hits you while you twirl your pasta with your fork. “This is weird.”
“What is?”
“That we tried to be each other’s cupid, but ended up falling for each other instead.”
Your analogy makes Jeongin burst into laughter, nodding his head excessively. “Yeah, you’re right.”
The two of you eat Jeongin’s food in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Jeongin speaks up again.
“Does that mean that I shot an arrow at myself then?!” Jeongin gawks at you comedically, almost making you choke on his food.
“Perhaps,” you simply shrug, leaving your, what you assume you could finally call your boyfriend, up to speculate for himself.
The cupid game was finally over, after many, many months of pinning.
And it ended with a pair of cupids, in love with each other.
~
it’s promo time baby!
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thank you so incredibly much for reading “a pair of cupids!” this story was physically and mentally draining. i wrote the first 3 sections last week, took a 3 day break because my family visited another state, and then wrote these last 6 sections in a span of... 5 days? it was NOT FUN my back is killing me oh my gosh have mercy on me if you think this was bad
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labomi · 3 years
Text
play by the rules [1]
Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.
pairing: nanami kento x f!reader
words: 2.7k
warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings
notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!
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There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.
With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.
To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.
You have no expectations that today will be any different.
With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.
“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.
Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”
You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest. 
“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.
“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.
You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.
Yeah, no kidding.
“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”
Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.
After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.
“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”
Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard. 
This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.
You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.
Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on. 
On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.
On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.
Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.
It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.
So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.
You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.
You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.
You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.
You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home. 
“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.
“I approved your new bodyguard.”
This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.
“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.
He nods at you.
Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”
Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”
In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.
A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.
Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”
Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”
You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.
“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”
You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”
Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles. 
It’s time to get to work. 
In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.
“Hey, Itadori.”
Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.
The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.
Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.
“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”
There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.
“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”
Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.
“Alright. You got it.”
“Thanks, Itadori.”
Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.
Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.
Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.
Nanami Kento, huh.
You flip over a page and continue reading.
What an interesting man.
“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”
Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.
“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”
“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”
“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”
“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”
Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.
Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death. 
Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.
Simply put, Nanami is tired.
This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.
While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.
When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response. 
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”
Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”
“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”
Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.
“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”
Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.
There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:
Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.
Once a job is finished, leave immediately.
Never get personally involved with a client.
And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.
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