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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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Jealousy

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Drama | NC-17 | College AU Summary: It comes as a nice surprise when you saw your ex-boyfriend at your workplace and you thought everything was going to be fine. You both have moved on, right? Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, thinks otherwise.

Warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral sex, slight choking, slight dirty talk, this is just pure filth you guys I’m so sorry I had too much feels

It’s the continuation of Before Our Story Began but can still be read separately if you want.

It has been months since you first dated Lee Donghyuck, also popularly known as Lee Haechan, and things were great—more than great, even, but all good things have come to an end at one point. Your relationship with Haechan is still going pretty strong, but now that you have passed the Honeymoon Phase—where it’s all just sex and raw passion—things can sometimes get a little tense.

While he’s been certainly fun and charming for the most times you’ve been together, not to mention adventurous when it comes to sex, Haechan can be really stubborn and selfish that you often start to bicker with him over the simplest of things.

Like yesterday, for example.

“Look, I said I’m sorry!” He whined and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes because that was so him and it wasn’t really cute anymore. Especially after he arrived an hour late at the cafe that he’d asked you to meet a day before.

“I’m not angry,” you stated, emptying the rest of your coffee. On the other side, Haechan’s ice americano was still pretty much full considering he just got there and you had ordered the drink for him an hour before, thinking that he was going to be on time for your date. But no, he was so into the new online game Jaemin had told him about a week ago that he began to lose track of time. It seemed to you that was all he’d been doing for the last few days, and you were fine with giving him some personal space but clearly not if he was wasting your precious time instead. Not everybody is as smart as him when it comes to keeping good grades. Maybe he doesn’t have to study much, but you do.

“You are! You’re totally angry!” He pointed out and you sighed because of course, I’m angry, you idiot, I had to spend an hour by myself doing literally nothing because you asked me to go out when I’m supposed to be working on my papers that’s due tomorrow but you kept yourself in silence. You had to be the adult in the relationship, especially when you’re dating a goddamn brat.

“Whatever.” You placed back your phone—which had been your only companion—into your purse and wore back your coat. “I have to go.”

His eyebrows—his thick, beautiful eyebrows that you love so much (though not that day) were knitted in both desperation and annoyance from how you acted. “Noona!” He wailed, grabbing your hand when you stood up from your seat. “What do you want me to do? If I could go back to the past, I would, but I can’t and you being unreasonably angry like this isn’t—”

“Unreasonably?”

Haechan’s jaw hung slackly on his face when he noticed the anger radiating off your body. You were angry before but not this angry. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, pulling your hand out of his grip. “I’ll see you later, Donghyuck.” It was cold, the way you said it, and Haechan sensed that. But being the whiny brat that he was, he just kept on shouting back, gathering people’s attention.

“Can’t we be adults and talk about this—Yah!” When you didn’t answer—or even glanced back at him—he threw his hands in the air, yelling, “You know what? Fine! I don’t really want to hang out with you anyway! In fact, it’s actually better for me if we don’t hang, ever!”

But you already had your feet out of the door.

On the next day, he came by to your dorm at four in the morning, making your roommate groan with a hellish fire burning in her eyes. “If that’s your boyfriend, I am going to kill him.”

“Don’t bother, I will,” you muttered in response before you stepped down from your bed, turned on the lighting (which earned another loud groan from your friend), and reached for the door. Haechan stood there with his hair looking like a bird’s nest, his cheeks reddening from the morning cold, and his eyes bleary from lacking sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he softly said in all of the sincerity he could emit. “I’ve been an asshole.”

“It’s four in the morning, Haechan-ah.”

“I know, but I can’t sleep thinking about what happened before and I don’t think I can before you forgive me.” He did his best pout. It was cute, but not cute enough to wash your vexation away. “Also, it’s raining heavily outside, if you haven’t noticed, so I thought it would add some dramatic effects to my apology.”

“You’re not wet though.”

“Neither were you before you met me,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows but when he noticed you glaring at him in reticence—oh if looks could kill—he flinched and hastily added, “Sorry, bad timing. I don’t know why I said that. Well, umm, it was kinda cold when I stepped under the rain so I decided to just bring an umbrella with me.” He suddenly seemed like he remembered something. “Oh yeah, can I leave it here? I’ve got an early class today and I don’t really want to carry it with me everywhere.”

That earned another flat stare from you. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, are you?”

“I am! I swear!” He squeaked, shuffling inside his bag before he took out a white box with a red bow wrapped around it. “Look, I brought you some chocolates.”

“I’m on a diet.”

“Well, now, how am I supposed to know?”

“I literally told you that yesterday.” To say he was testing your patience would be an understatement at that point. “Remember? When you arrived late on our date and you asked why aren’t you ordering anything and I said I’m on a fucking diet!”

“Yo, chill, I was just trying to be nice.” Haechan grabbed you by the shoulders, massaging the sore spots and it would probably feel good if you weren’t so pissed-off over his antics. “Also, Noona, don’t you know? Men have a harder time remembering things than women do. And that’s just scientifically speaking, not me.”

You exhaled so loudly into the air, slapping his hands away. “Look, it’s literally four in the morning. Can we talk again when the sun is up? Like normal people?”

“Noona, pleaseeeeee.” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I said I’m sorry! What else do you wa—”

“JUST FORGIVE HIM FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU GUYS ARE TAKING FOREVER AND YOU’RE GIVING ME HEADACHES!” Maybe you and Haechan were getting a bit loud, but your roommate was just shouting like she was about to march on a war so you didn’t really have the choice. It was either take your boyfriend’s apology or have your roommate kill both you and your boyfriend at the same time.

Haechan sheepishly and annoyingly smiled at you. “She’s got a point, you know.”

But, of course, he does learn his lesson from time-to-time so things don’t always end up in fights. And Haechan can be considerate, if he wants, noticing the little things that you do. Like when you’re wearing a new skirt (or new underwear, for that matter), giving you his jacket when you sniffle from the cold (as cheesy as that sounds, it does make your heart flutter a bit), or intertwining your fingers together when you’re nervous before your presentation.

Hopefully today this considerate version of his comes out to play again because there’s something you want to talk about with him.

“I think I need to start looking for a part-time job,” you say, sighing contently as he has his lips on your neck, suckling on the soft skin. Your fingers are playing with the soft strands of his hair, unconsciously tugging at them when he brings his tongue into the game. You know it’s not really the best time to have this conversation—especially not when he has his hand under your shirt as you sit on his lap at the back of his car—but with Haechan, it’s almost always like this whenever you’re alone with him so you don’t really have that many options. “I’m running out of money.”

“From dumping too many dead bodies in the swamp?” He chuckles next to your ear, unbuttoning more of your shirt and pushing the fabric off your shoulder. “Babe, I’ve told you,” he mouths against your skin. “You gotta search for a new swamp that’s free of charge—”

“Shut up.” But you’re laughing anyway. This inside joke you two have has become somewhat of a routine—a topic that pops out anytime in any conversation.

You can feel his grin pressing against the sensitive skin below your ear. “Told ya this swamp thing could be our thing.”

“No, I’m serious.” But despite that, you have to hold back a moan when you feel his hand roaming around your chest, his fingers slipping underneath your bra. You can’t tell him exactly why you need this job because you don’t want him to feel sorry for you. But the truth is, your parents back home have been having financial problems and you know how costly your college tuition can get. You just want to help out, even if it’s not much, and try to survive on your own without using your parents’ money. “I need some pocket money.”

Haechan has your earlobe between his teeth, his breathing feels warm and extremely sexy in your ears. “Mmm, for what?”

“To buy personal things.”

“What personal things?”

“Like…” You bite your lower lip, having the hardest time concentrating when he starts to play with your nipple, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bud. “I don’t know, like girl things.”

Haechan suddenly pulls away, looking you straight in the eyes with his own gleaming in excitement. “You mean like a customized dildo?”

“Make-up, Donghyuck.” You flatly stare back. All your sexual excitement from before? Gone. “I mean, make-up.”

“Sure, that too. But,” he insists and you roll your eyes, knowing where this is going. “Have you ever considered playing with a dildo in your spare time? Because I have. I mean, picturing you using it. Not me using it in my ass, oh God, no.”

“Are you done?”

“No, seriously.” It turns out, he’s not finished. And he still has a long way to go, judging by the enthusiastic look in his eyes. “Because I would totally buy it for you if it’s a dildo you need. Or any sex toys, for that matter. No matter how expensive it is, I’ll pay! I’ll save up some money and buy some so we can use them together in the future!”

He’s making it look like he’s talking about buying a house for your future marriage and it’s cute and disgusting at the same time so you stop him by pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s pathetic, the way he whines, but as long as it can stop him from sputtering nonsense, you’ll do it again.

“Why do you need make-up anyway?” He eventually gives up, rubbing his red nose, still wincing from the pain. “You’re already pretty without it.” And it really does sound sincere, the way he says it. Haechan flirts a lot, even when you’ve been together for months, he still does it pretty often. But he does have his sincerity from time to time, just like now, and you can’t help but blush a little because of it.

“Well, I’m more confident with it.”

“Well, of course, you do look smoking hot with your make-up on, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, lazily circling his arms around your waist as he leans his back to the car’s seat. “But you’re beautiful the way you are too. Like, you literally can wear that I woke up like this shirt every morning and you won’t find me complaining.”

“You complained about my morning breath this morning.”

“That you should work on.”

“Asshole.” You push a palm against his face, which he licks playfully like a dog. This is your favorite Haechan, if you have to be honest, with his lips pulled back showcasing a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you, and his voice sounding light and airy with a hint of teasing in his words. And of course, also with the way he has his hair slightly pushed back, his forehead shown and his eyebrows raised whenever he throws flirty lines at you.

You really should consider yourself lucky to be able to call someone like him, who has the perfect balance of cute and sexy, as your boyfriend.

“I really like you,” you say, abruptly out of nowhere that it surprises you too. Haechan’s laughter stops almost immediately, his eyes searching yours. There’s silence hanging in the air, slowly suffocating you, and you’re about to beg him to say something when he smiles, so gentle and soft, with his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb.

“I really like you too,” he says, almost like he’s sighing. His eyes go up-and-down your face, switching from your eyes and your lips. “I like you so much that it drives me crazy sometimes.”

It’s insane how fast he can turn your steady heart rate into something that beats too loudly for your ears. “Okay, stop right there. I can’t with all this cheesiness you’re throwing at me. Let’s just make-out.”

And that sexy smirk of his grows back almost immediately. “I won’t argue with that.”

***

It’s not easy getting a job these days, especially when you don’t really have a set of skills you can be proud of but luckily enough, you’ve found a part-time job as a waiter at a family restaurant nearby. The salary is slightly below your expectation so maybe you have to recalculate your budgeting again but beggars can’t be choosers. You thought it should be enough for now. And the most important thing is, you only have to work three days a week so you can fit in well with your campus’ schedule.

The only remaining problem is your boyfriend because, believe it or not, he demands more time than all of your classes and assignments combined.

“I can’t believe we have our Netflix account renewed like two months ago and yet we haven’t watched anything on it,” Haechan complains, a bag of popcorn on his lap. He’s in his black sweat pants, hair all tousled from lying around on the bed all day. He’s already munching more than he should, even way before you can log in to your Netflix account. “At this point, we’re just throwing our money away.”

“Don’t blame me,” you retort, taking the bowl into your arms so you can climb into his lap, snuggling close to his chest. “I’m not the one who got my dick hard during the first half of literally every movie we decided to watch together.”

“You literally rubbed your ass against my crotch every single time. What a man gotta do in that situation?”

A smile creeps up your face. That you certainly did. It’s just so funny to have him flinch every now and then whenever you move slightly in his arms so you often just exaggerate your movements a bit, sometimes leaning forward in a suggestive way whenever you tried to change the brightness of your MacBook screen—so Haechan could take a good look of your ass—before settling back between his legs, making sure to give him enough friction as you slid down. Or sometimes you just laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a random kiss to his neck, and just went back to watching the screen as if you didn’t do anything. It really didn’t take long before Haechan groaned in exasperation, threw the bowl away, tackled you down to the bed, and pulled your shorts down your legs.

“Should I move away then?” You offer. “We can stay, like, five feet apart from each other as we watch this.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, pulling you closer again to his chest. “I like to snuggle. You’re warm and you smell really good, it comforts me. Besides, having sex with you is so much better than watching every movie out there.”

“Even better than watching The Kissing Booth?”

“Yah!” The way his cheeks turn scarlet almost immediately is too cute for you to handle. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me! See, this is why I—”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss, letting your lips linger on his the way he likes it before you pull away and pat him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Forgive me?”

Haechan unconsciously juts his lower lip out, just a little. “Fine,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist before he skims his nose along the nape of your neck. “Only because you’re cute,” he whispers.

“Oh right, that reminds me,” you say, closing your eyes as you listen to his breathing. It’s somewhat calming your nerves, after a long day of doing… well, nothing, actually. “I’ll be busy every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday from now on so we won’t be able to hang out during those days.”

“What?!” He shrieks, almost turning you deaf. “Why?!”

“Because I have my part-time job, didn’t I tell you that before?” You can honestly hear your ears ringing from the loudness of his voice. “Or did you not listen to me again?”

“I can handle it if you work during the weekdays, but on the weekends too?” He’s actually looking pretty upset, though not that you haven’t expected him to be. “That’s our time! How can you do that to me? To us?! This is so not fair!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop being a drama queen. You literally spent the last weekend playing Overwatch at Jaemin’s place.”

“Whoa, hey,” he crows, pulling away from you with both hands raised in the air and forcing you to turn and look at him in the eyes. You do it as you nonchalantly munch on your popcorn, enjoying how dramatic your boyfriend can be at times like this. “Once again, lady,” he stresses on the word, narrowing his eyes at you. “They were holding a very, very important Anniversary Event and that does not happen every day. It’s not like I have any other choice! They were giving out new skins and other rewards!”

“Your choice was to spend your Saturday night with your fingers on your keyboard or in me. That was your choice.”

Haechan opens his mouth to say something, already holding out one finger in the air as if he’s about to make a good excuse but he fails almost immediately when your point begins to sink in his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I should’ve been wiser.”

You pat his hair as you would do to a child. “Look, we can still hang out. I only work during the day, you know. You can always pick me up after work and we can get dinner together or something.”

He pouts, lowering his head as he murmurs, “It’s still not the same, though. I like spending time with you.”

You can feel your heart flutter from the way he says his line so genuinely. “Me too, Haechannie. Let’s just promise to always meet up on the weekends after I’m done with my work.”

The pout still does not falter away but it’s nothing a kiss can’t fix.

***

“Haechannie, I really need to go.” You struggle to slip yourself away from his long arms, holding back a laugh as you do it, and you almost reach the end of his bed but your boyfriend easily hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest.

After not seeing each other for five days, you could finally see your boyfriend with his dazzling bright smile in person when he picked you up after work on a Saturday evening. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed him until he snatched you back into his embrace, intoxicating you with his amazing scent and airy laughter that sounds like music to your ears. It was a good thing being separated for a few days like that because Haechan became much more clingy in the most adorable way, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Even during sex, he was all giggly and soft, gently asking you how you feel, whether he was being too fast, or simply just telling you how beautiful you look even when you were pretty much exhausted from work. It was a nice change.

Both of you are still pretty much naked from the morning shower you just took together—or rather, the morning shower you took when suddenly your boyfriend came barging in, greasily saying, “My, my, there’s a naked lady in my shower. This must be my lucky day,” and ended up moaning against your mouth instead of washing the soap off your body.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, smiling into the kiss just like you do and you let him part your lips with his, slowly slipping his tongue in and tasting the roof of your mouth. “Oh man, I must be a freak for being so turned on from the fact that you’re wearing my shampoo.”

“You’ve always been a freak,” you snicker, pushing his face away with your palm. “Now, get off me. Jaemin can come back any second.”

“Jaemin’s too busy sucking Jeno’s morning wood, I’m sure. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Well, my shift is starting in thirty minutes.”

“Which leaves us twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds to get each other off and ten seconds for you to get ready.” He lowly chuckles, his voice still sounding quite deep from sleep as he nips against the column of your neck.

“I’m serious…” You can tell that your voice becomes way less convincing. It’s just Haechan feels so warm and he smells so good, you have to literally offer your best effort to deny him and his touches. You’re still in the middle of putting in that so-called effort when you notice he’s sucking on the supple skin, to the point it begins to hurt a little bit. “Don’t suck too hard! You’ll leave bruises and I am not gonna wear a scarf again.”

“Good,” he murmurs against your skin. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You sigh, tangling your fingers around his hair, arching your back to press your body closer to him. “You can be too possessive sometimes, do you know that?”

“Any man would if their girlfriend is as pretty as you,” he replies, pulling away from you a little so he can bore his eyes into yours. “Stay with me today.”

As much as you want to, especially with that hooded eyes looking at you with so much passion and desire, you have to be the responsible adult for today. “I can’t, Haechannie.”

“Noona~” His serious demeanor falters, and the whiny brat that he is comes back to the surface again. “Pleaseeee~ I’m lonely and I’m hard, can’t you just be kind to me for just one day?”

“Are you using your aegyo on me to get a quickie? Seriously?”

“What, it’s not working?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sexy smirk and his eyebrow raised seductively. “I thought aegyo was your thing.”

No, but your goddamn smirk and eyebrow raise surely are. “Fuck, okay, ten minutes. Can we finish in ten minutes?”

“I can guarantee that you will.” His smirk grows wider, licking his lower lip. “But I’m not sure if you can make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You push him with both hands until he falls back to the bed, with you straddling his lap. “I’m going to make you take your words back, Lee Donghyuck, you better be prepared.”

***

You’ve broken two plates so far, and you’re sure you’re about to be fired if you even do a tiny mistake in the next hour but you try to keep yourself calm and composed and promise yourself to do better. It’s not that you’re a lousy waiter—okay, maybe a bit from the lack of experience—but the restaurant you’re working in can be surprisingly packed during lunch hours and it’s really taking all that you have to carry three porcelain plates on a tray as you walk on high heels that are killing you in every step you take. You often complain about the blisters at the back of your heels when you sit next to Haechan in his car, which usually ends up with him massaging your feet, while mumbling, “See, this is why you should’ve agreed with me when I told you about buying dildos. I would work my ass off to pay for that, and you can just lie around in my room all day.”

You’re getting better at your job the more days go by, and you’re much confident now in talking with customers. You’re already standing pretty in your uniform with a menu book in your arms, ready to greet the next customer but when the front door opens, all of your professionalism just goes straight out of the window.

“No way…” Your jaw hangs loosely on your face, eyes blinking twice in surprise. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. There, walking through the entrance door of the restaurant, is your ex-boyfriend from high school, Jeong Jaehyun. Dressed perfectly in a light blue buttoned-up shirt and a pair of black khaki pants, Jaehyun looks much, much better than how you remembered him to be. His dark hair stands in contrast to his pale skin, his veins appearing along his wrists and you have to remind yourself to stop staring and proceed with your work.

You take hesitant steps to meet him, swallowing your nervous breath and hoping that you don’t look as awkward as you think. You almost trip on your own feet when you notice Jaehyun looking back at you, his eyes widening in surprise before his lips turn upward into that gentle smile that reminds you of how he used to be back in high school. Maybe some things never change.

“Hi,” you greet with an awkward smile on your face.

“Hey.” The way his eyes droop slightly when he sees you feels nostalgic, and perhaps he’s much taller now because you have to look up to meet his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. It’s been a while.”

“You’re right,” you reply, chuckling a little to mask how tense you really are. “Would you like me to take you to your seat?”

“Oh no, I won’t be long,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to talk to the manager for a sec.”

You furrow your eyebrows, trying your best not to get distracted with the way his hair ruffles almost perfectly under his touch. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, just wanted to see the latest financial report.” He smiles, showcasing his teeth. “My grandfather owns this place, and I’m helping him take care of the business while he’s overseas.”

Fuck. “A-ah, is that so?” Meeting him once as a customer is already painfully awkward enough for you to bear, but actually working for him?!

“I won’t bother you, I promise,” Jaehyun immediately adds, “I wasn’t aware that you work here, actually. Has it been long since you started?”

“About two weeks.” You fidget on your feet, having the hardest time making eye contact with him. “And I’m not very good at this.”

“Wait, are you the one who keeps breaking plates?”

You wince. “Yes. Can you please not fire me? I’ll pay for them, I promise.”

And Jaehyun laughs, his deep voice booming into the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for them myself if that’s what it takes to keep you around.” He says his lines so naturally that it surprises you both when the words finally sink in. “I—I mean,” he clears his throat, “It’s just really been a while since I last saw you so I thought we should really catch up on things. How are you?”

“I’m—”

“Boss,” your manager suddenly comes to interrupt, carrying some paper sheets in her arms. “These are the reports you wanted. I can e-mail you the rest if you need more details.” And when she sees you standing next to Jaehyun with the worst looking smile you’ve ever had on your face, she squints her eyes menacingly at you, “What did you do this time?”

“She didn’t do anything,” Jaehyun hastily answers before you can even form a word of protest. “She’s a dear friend of mine. It’s been a while since we talked, so do you mind if I borrow her for a while?”

Your manager seems utterly shocked and you kind of dance happily in your mind because she’s been kind of mean to you—though you were the one who gave her the reasons to be—and seeing her speechless, only able to mumble out a small, “S-sure,” before she trails away back to her office like this becomes the highlight of your day.

“Thank you,” you say to him, not sure why but it feels right.

“Let me know if she bullies you again,” he says, gently patting you on the head and you can feel his fingers slowly brush your bangs off your temple. It seems like he’s unaware of what he’s doing and you can understand why because that’s just his habit, even from the time when you hadn’t started dating yet. You remember the time when he said he liked your eyes—he thought they were beautiful, and hiding them under your bangs like that was a shame.

You take a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Umm…”

“Right, sorry,” he fumbles with his hands, the tip of his ears growing red. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Can we just sit and talk?”

You smile, genuinely this time. He really hasn’t changed despite his appearance. “Sure.”

***

Jaehyun doesn’t visit the restaurant every day and you don’t really expect him to, but when he does, he always spares some time to talk to you privately—usually during your break time so your manager can stop throwing ice daggers from her eyes at you.

“I’ve tried to call you after graduation,” he confesses as he takes you out for some coffee at the nearest cafe. Your shift is over and you’re waiting for Haechan to pick you up but he’s running late because he has to take a quiz that he missed from skipping the class the previous week—you guess it had something to do with him pulling an all-nighter playing Overwatch again—and you told him to take his time.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Several times, actually, but I couldn’t get connected.”

“Maybe you called after I lost my phone,” you reply, taking a sip of your hot latte and wincing when it nearly scalds your tongue. “I had to change my number. I lost my contacts and everything.”

“That makes sense. Would it be okay if I ask for your numbers now?”

“Only for business purposes,” you tease, and he grins back, almost boyishly.

“Only for business purposes,” he confirms, “Just so I can give you a heads-up when I’m about to fire you.”

You gasp, half-amused, half-terrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.” And he only responds with another laugh. Talking with Jaehyun is easy and comforting, and he really listens to what you’re saying like a loving older brother taking care of his sister. It’s a nice change considering it’s always you who have to act like the mature one when having a conversation with Haechan—not that it isn’t good. It just can get quite tiring after some time.

Jaehyun is in the middle of walking you back to your workplace when he tells you stories about the things he did after graduation, and how he’s planning to continue with his study overseas to get a master’s degree in business management as soon as he’s done with his work here. You’re so entranced with his story that you barely notice your boyfriend waiting with his back pressed against the side of his car, eyes busy staring at his phone screen.

“Haechannie, you’re here!” You run to his spot, a grin spreading wide on your face before you lean up and kiss his cheek.“When did you get here?”

“Noonaaaaa,” he pouts, voice becoming whiny as usual. Compared to how he acts, he’s dressed maturely in a white shirt and a black leather jacket, his silver necklace hanging low on his neck. It takes you a good five seconds to ogle at his amazing looks while telling your heart not to get too excited. At least not until you get back at the dorm so you can rip that shirt off him with your own hands. “I’ve been calling you three times already. Where have you been?”

“You have?” You immediately check on your phone, noticing that yes, in fact, he did call you three times. You didn’t notice before because your phone was on silent. “I’m sorry, I forgot to switch it back after work. Did you wait long?”

“A bit,” he pushes his bottom lip out but it soon turns into a cheeky grin. “But nothing a kiss can’t fix.”

“Haechannie.” You pat him softly on his cheek. “We’ve got company.” And at that, he begins to widen his line of sight—because he usually just focuses on you and forgets his surroundings—and spots Jaehyun standing a few meters behind you with his hands buried deep within the pockets of his pants.

“Oh,” he comments, acting nonchalant though you notice by the slight raise of his eyebrow that he’s already annoyed by his presence. “Who are you?”

It’s kind of rude to suddenly ask for his name, especially in the cold tone Haechan is using and Jaehyun’s lips twitch at his words. “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Well, Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan says with mockery on his tone, straightening his posture and you wonder whether it’s because he feels slightly inferior to Jaehyun’s height. “My girlfriend and I would like some privacy from now on, so if you can just run along now, that’d be great.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder, gasping in disbelief before you turn around to face the other man. “I’m sorry, he can be quite rude sometimes but I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Meant it with all my heart.”

“Be quiet.” And even Haechan can tell for his own good that he shouldn’t push your buttons further than that.

“It’s okay, I have to go anyway,” Jaehyun casually says, smiling angelically like how he always does though his eyes don’t really play along. “Your boyfriend is cute. How old are you? Does your mom know you’re still playing outside at this hour?”

Oh my God, not you too. You immediately grab Haechan’s hand to stop him before he flings himself forward and throws an arm toward the other man. You can see him clenching his jaw, almost baring his teeth when Jaehyun laughs quietly to himself, saying, “I’m just kidding. Have a good night, you two,” before he walks back to the restaurant, most likely to have another business talk with the manager.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Haechan blurts out, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. You stroke his arm, trying to soothe him down but what he does is relocating his glare on you instead, almost yelling, “Why were you with him? How many times have you guys seen each other? And why on earth did you take his side?!”

You’re too tired to care, to be honest, let alone answering him. You’re also suffering from the cold of the night, wanting desperately to climb into Haechan’s car and put on the heater to warm yourself up. “I’ll explain on our way back,” you sniffle, squeezing his hand. “Can we get inside the car? Please? I’m freezing.”

You can tell he’s still very much upset but his gaze softens when he sees puffs of air flowing from your chapped lips and your nose turning red. He sighs into the air but opens the door for you. He doesn’t really talk until he has his engine started, and you can practically see steam coming out from his ears as he drives into the night.

“Have you had dinner yet?” You ask, trying to keep as casual as you can.

“No.”

“Should we order something—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“O… kay…” You hold yourself back from sighing too loud. He’s testing your patience again, but it’s fine, you’re the mature one. You can handle this. “We’ll just go straight back to my place then. I’m sure I can make you something. I think I still have some pasta with—”

“I think I’m just gonna go back to my room right after I drop you off.” His words don’t hurt as much as the tone he’s using. You’re trying to patch things up even though you’re sure you haven’t done anything wrong but he’s not even trying to apologize about how rude he acted earlier. You can’t help but snap, probably because your fatigue is taking its toll. You figure you can act mature any other time, but not today.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” You can feel your voice rising and it forces him to sneaks a glance at you but only for a split second before he brings back his eyes on the road again. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you but you keep on acting like a brat—”

“Oh, of course, now you have a problem with me being a brat.” He grits his teeth, sinking his nails into the steering wheel. “I think we both know that’s pretty much how I act around you—around anyone, really—and if I remember it clearly, you said being a brat was part of my charm. That was, of course, before you met this oh-so-mature Jung fucking Jaehyun and suddenly, now, I’m fucking annoying.”

“I didn’t just meet him, Hyuck.” You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been friends with him since high school.”

He clicks his tongue in aggravation, quietly adding, “Friends that fucked each other whenever your parents weren’t around, I’m sure.” And he probably didn’t mean his words to be heard because he just said them out of spite, but you did hear him and it makes your blood sparks in fury.

“Actually, yes,” you jeer back, “We did. He was the one who took my virginity away, just so you know and—WHOA!”

The sudden turn of the wheels makes you yelp and scramble to wrap your fingers tightly around your seatbelt as if you were hanging for dear life, and Haechan suddenly stomps his feet on the brakes, messily parking his car on the side of the street and earning a lot of angry car honks from the drivers behind him in return.

“What?!” He shouts, eyes wide, completely ignoring the passerby or the fact that you’re still trying to catch your breath. “You had sex with him?!”

“Once, Donghyuck, Jesus Christ!” You almost yank every strand of your hair out of your head. “Just once! And I never did that with anyone else until I met you!”

“I can’t believe you never told me this! And now you just hang around with him behind my back?!”

“What’s there to tell?! It’s in the past, way back when I didn’t even know your name. It’s not like you tell me things like this too. I don’t have problems with you sleeping with hundreds of girls before you met me.”

The sudden silence that surrounds you snap you back to reality and you regret everything you just said because you know you didn’t mean it. Well, it certainly has been bugging you for quite some time whenever you think about how easy and casual he’s always been when it comes to sex—not to mention how experienced he is—so you can’t help but wonder. You do understand that it’s not fair blurting about it to him like this, though. Especially not in this situation.

And the way he just suddenly becomes mute almost makes you shudder.

“Hyuck, I didn’t mean—”

“So that’s how you think of me?” He asks, voice low and deep. “Is that the reason why you’re seeing him? Because you don’t trust me?”

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you almost scream from all this frustration you’re venting out. “This is getting out of hand. Okay, first, that was wrong of me to say that and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. And second, stop being so jealous—I was only out with him to get some coffee. We no longer have feelings for each other, I can assure you that.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “Sure. Whatever.”

“Hyuck, he’s my boss! I was just being polite—”

“Well, that’s just fucking great, isn’t it? No wonder you keep insisting on taking this job. It’s not even about the money now, is it?” He slams his hand against the steering wheel, groaning out, “I’m so fucking stupid,” before he throws his head to the side, glaring at the scenery outside his window instead of you.

There’s silence hanging in the air again and you take a deep breath to calm yourself as much as you can because you know where this is going. You just hope you’re wrong. “Why does it sound like you’re accusing me of cheating on you?”

“Because maybe deep down, that’s what you’re doing?” He’s not even looking at you when he says it, but the bitterness in his voice is clear and it’s loud enough to finally tweak the final string of patience you have left in you.

So you grab your purse, carry your jacket in one arm and step down from the car. “I’m taking a cab,” you say and when he still doesn’t look at you, you add, “Come talk to me when you’re mature enough to have this conversation.”

And not knowing your own strength, you slam the door until his ears begin to ring.

***

It’s the worst fight you’ve ever had, not just with him but with anyone else too. You’re more the type that avoids situations like this—one that says sorry even when you know you’re not doing anything wrong just to reduce the tension, so this fight you’re having with Haechan has been ruining your mood for a whole damn week since day one. And the fact that he doesn’t come to apologize or even send a text or two is driving you insane.

You can’t help but to dwell in his way of thinking, trying to see whether it’s really your fault that this is happening. Yes, maybe you should’ve explained better, but he wasn’t really giving you the chance to do it, was he? And yes, maybe you should’ve told him about you hanging out with Jaehyun every now and then or the fact that he’s your boss but you just couldn’t find the right timing before. Well, it’s certainly too late to start now.

Should I call him…?

Because you miss him. You miss Haechan so badly. You miss his bratty smile, you miss his annoying whine, you miss his stupid dazzling smile, you miss his scent, his kiss, his embrace—everything about him. You didn’t realize how close he was to you—already becoming a big part of your life—and you just really notice it now when he’s completely out of your sight.

“Fuck this.” You’re in the middle of searching his name in your contacts and about to press dial when suddenly you get his message.

Can we meet tomorrow?

It’s really weird that a simple text can make your heart race and almost send you jumping in delight. Trying to keep your heart rate back to normal, you type back.

Of course. What time? Where?

You wait for his reply and it seems like the time suddenly slows down where seconds feel like hours. You nibble at your bottom lip, hesitating at first but sending it anyway.

I miss you, Haechannie.

Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage again. A lot of thoughts begin entering your mind at the same time, making you worry about what if he wants to meet me because he wants to break up with me? What if he doesn’t miss me and he’s grossed out with my text? What if—

His reply arrives with a slight ding coming from your phone, and with shaky hands, you open his text.

I’ll text you the time and place tomorrow morning.

There’s a disappointment that bubbles up inside your chest but the next text from him erases all of that almost instantly.

I miss you too, Noona. Good night.

And you think that maybe tonight, you can finally have a good sleep.

***

“Can you fill in for tonight?”

It’s the first thing your manager said to you the second you stepped inside the restaurant. You haven’t even taken your jacket yet, and it’s really rare to see your manager walking around the place on a Sunday morning but here she is, and she’s already ordering things around.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. “Pardon?”

“There will be a banquet tonight for the Jeong family and we need every waiter we can get. I know you’re lousy at your job but Jaehyun-Sajangnim seems to like you so I hope you can stick longer for a few hours.”

“I…” You wet your lower lip anxiously. “I can’t. I already promised someone—”

“Look, this is not a request. It’s an order.” She seems like she’s running out of patience. “But I’ll pay handsomely for your time. I think you need the money to pay for those two plates you broke anyway. You know how expensive they are.”

You wince. “Yes, Ma’am.” It’s not like she’s leaving you with any other option. You figure you can call Haechan later during your break time. It’s still not confirmed anyway, your date with him. You’ll think of a way to make it up to him.

It’s only for a few hours anyway, right?

I’ll just text him now. You dip your hand into your purse, trying to find your iPhone as fast as you can. You run your fingers along the screen, typing letters with your thumbs.

Haechannie, something came up and I have to stay longer at work. I’ll see you later tonight at your place and we can talk then.

“What are you doing standing around like that?” Your manager suddenly shouts and you almost drop your phone in surprise. “Go and change your uniform now, we’re opening the place in ten minutes!”

“Y-yes, Ma’am!” You fumble with your steps, throwing your phone back into your purse in a hurry. You inwardly sigh. Today is going to be a long day.

I’m sorry, Haechannie.

***

“Great work today,” Jaehyun says when most of his family members have left the restaurant. You didn’t realize how big and wealthy his family was so it amazed you that one family could occupy the whole seatings they have in this place. There were more than thirty people in the room before and you had to change your high heels into a pair of flat shoes so you can run from one table to another while carrying several plates at once.

“Not really, I almost broke another plate today,” you respond with a sigh, which earns a low chuckle in return. Jaehyun has his back leaning against the wall just an arms reach away from the front door, waiting for you to finish shoving all your belongings into your bag before he curls his fingers around the doorknob and twists it open.

“Thanks,” you say, almost sheepishly because it looks weird, no matter how you see it—your boss is opening the door for you. “Stop being so nice, Jae, you’re making other staff jealous.”

“But I do this to all my staff,” Jaehyun snickers, following after your trail.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey,” he calls, placing his hand on your shoulder so you’ll stop on your track and turn around to face him. “Thank you.”

You raise your eyebrow questioningly. “For what?”

“For acting like how you normally do around me,” he explains, smiling a little bit bashfully. “For not being so awkward after our break-up.”

“Oh… Well…” You try to focus your gaze somewhere else, suddenly finding the silver watch you wear around your wrist entertaining. “It’s been years since then, I think we both have moved on by now, right?”

There’s a thick tension growing between the two of you and you almost beg him to say something before it starts to suffocate you.

“Sure,” he says, but the pressure in his tone speaks otherwise. You look up to meet his eyes, expecting him to smile and bring another topic into the conversation, but all he does is just gazing at you with these gentle, almost longing eyes that make your heart stops for a split second.

You know this can’t go any further.

“Well, uhh,” Jaehyun clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, perhaps feeling rather embarrassed himself. “It’s already late. Do you want me to escort you back to your place?”

And you find it hard to form a sentence, still somewhat baffled from the way he’s acting around you, and you’re so unfocused that when another voice enters your hearing, it shocks you down to your spine.

“I’ll be taking her from here,” Haechan says, startling you both and you turn around so fast on your heel to face him that you almost stumble forward. Your boyfriend is standing with one hand carrying a black suit and another one digging inside the pocket of his pants, dressed nicely in a white buttoned up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has the top two buttons of his shirt loosened, showing a glimpse of his collar bones and the silver necklace he usually hangs around his neck. His short brown hair is parted to the side, slightly pushed back to showcase his temple. You’ve never seen him dressed so sharp and elegantly before since the first day you met him and you can’t help but feel a little bit starstruck from the way he looks. But you soon realize that there must be a reason why he’s so dressed up and you feel terrible because you don’t know what it is.

What day is it today?

“Haechan—”

The way he grabs your hand shows how agitated he actually is despite the calm facade he places on his face, and it’s glaringly possessive the way he drags you to match his step on the way to his car but you follow him without a word, not even sparing a glance at Jaehyun who’s looking at him as if he just stole something important from him. Haechan opens the door to the passenger seat, and you climb in with your heart thrumming loud against your chest.

Haechan walks to the other side without making eye contact with Jaehyun but even at that point, your ex-boyfriend doesn’t dare to say a word or make a move, probably because he knows he has no right to do so. Haechan does not look angry and neither does he act like it but the quietness that fills the space between you, even when his car engine is blaring noisily outside, speaks louder than everything that he does.

“Umm.” You suddenly feel parched, your throat burning with every word you try to form. “T-thank you for picking me up.” You’re about to flinch from how terrible you just sounded. “I thought you were waiting at the dorm. Didn’t you get my text?”

It takes a few seconds that feel like forever for him to answer. “I don’t know, did you send me one?” He simply asks, voice flat and nonchalant, as he switches the gears of his car.

Did I not? You gulp in horror and begin to frantically search for your phone in your purse. Your heart almost leaps out from your chest when you see your phone is dead, probably ran out of battery sometimes during your hectic hours. You didn’t check on it before because you thought that Haechan most likely had seen your text and was waiting for you at the dorm, so you decided to just run in a hurry without texting him that your shift had ended. You were also busy talking with Jaehyun and felt it wouldn’t be polite for you to check on your phone while he was around.

But, as you connect your phone to your power bank, turning it on, and run your thumbs along the screen, you notice one thing: you didn’t send him anything.

“I’m—” A shiver runs down your spine. “I’m sure I texted you before—why—” You remember how your manager suddenly interrupted you when you were about to send the text. You must have forgotten to press send, and seeing how there are suddenly a lot of messages coming to your phone at once from him makes your heart drop to the floor.

I’ve made a reservation at Boccalino at 7 p.m. I know how you’ve always wanted to go there. Wear something nice.

Where are you now? Are you still at work? Do you want me to pick you up?

You’re probably busy at work. I’ll just see you at our table, okay? Don’t be late.

I haven’t heard from you. Where are you? I’m on my way to the restaurant to make sure our reservation is still on.

All my calls are going straight to voicemails. Where are you?

You’re an hour late. Where are you?!

You can feel the tremble in your fingertips as you hold your phone, your eyes running back and forth in horror. Haechan still doesn’t speak a word, focusing his eyes entirely on the road that lays in front of him.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Even though you know you’re already so out of line and probably won’t be forgiven anytime soon, you still apologize because what else can you say? “I didn’t realize my phone was dead. And I was sure I’d texted you but—”

“It’s fine,” he says as he props his elbow against his window, rubbing the side of his temple with his fingertips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. Your thoughts are running fast, trying to come up with a better apology or find a way to patch things up but you can’t. The more plans you make, the more you hate yourself for being so stupid and ruin this whole thing for him. The drive back to your dorm is filled with nothing but silence, and you spend the entire time counting the street light that glows faintly on the side of the road.

You do notice something, though. Haechan’s phone keeps on making little sounds, notifying him that he’s receiving text messages and chats. There was also a phone call which he ignored even when the street light was red, only saying, “I’ll just call back later,” when you nervously ask him about it.

It’s when he walks you back to your dorm, that you begin to gain the courage to ask about it. “You’re getting awfully a lot of texts today.”

“They just want to congratulate me,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets so you can’t take a hold of any of them as you walk beside him.

“On what?”

“My birthday.”

You wish the earth could just swallow you whole because how fucking ignorantly stupid can you be? It’s the sixth of June today, and you were so busy dealing with the fight and minding your own business that you forgot the birthday of the most important person in your life right now. You can feel how your legs almost give out under your weight, your head’s spinning.

And apparently, you’re doing it again, so lost in your own thoughts that Haechan has to say, “We’re here,” to snap you back to reality. You’re now standing gawkily in front of the door to your room, palms getting sweaty from how nervous you are. Haechan murmurs something about seeing you later and you’re about to burst into tears from how terrible you feel for him so you hastily grab him by his wrist, fingers almost sinking into his skin from how desperate you’re being.

“Stay with me,” you beg with quivers in your voice. “Please, just—I need to talk to you.”

Haechan stares at you with cold eyes, his jaw clenching slightly. But he doesn’t pull back his arm and follows your trail with heavy steps as you step inside your room. He closes the door behind him and leans his back against it, still not saying anything.

You’re so occupied with trying to form a coherent sentence that you forget to be thankful about how your roommate is away for the weekend again, providing you the opportunity to have the entire room for yourself. You decide to not make any excuses and apologize for every little dumb thing you’ve been doing for the whole day—no, for a whole week even, since the time your fight started. But no matter what you say, Haechan is staring at you with lifeless eyes, as if he’s just too tired to listen—as if he just no longer cares.

And that scares the life out of you.

“Hyuck, please,” you whisper, closing the distance between you until you can feel his warm breath caressing your cheek. You have your palm pressing against the side of his face, “Say something.” You know it’s not right, but you lean in for a kiss. It’s not just because you’re desperate to pull an emotion out of him; it’s more because you miss him so terribly so, it’s driving you crazy.

Haechan has his eyes closed by instinct but he doesn’t kiss back, only letting your lips linger on him, sharing his breath. And though it feels like there’s a javelin slowly sinking into your chest, you try again, kissing him with more passion, hooking your arm around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan tears himself away, his gaze turning dark as he stares at you and you look at him back with desperation in your eyes.

“Haecha—”

It’s like something snaps inside him and he suddenly no longer has control over his own free will, because Haechan is now pushing your body against the door, slamming your spine against the surface none too gently with his hands on each side of your head, lips chasing after yours. You let out a gasp, both from the shock and the pain that stings from the back of your head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue delving in to explore the inside of your mouth. His fingers trail down from your cheeks to your jaw, before they rest on the sides of your neck, his fingertips probing against your veins. You’re not sure whether he does it unconsciously from the sheer excitement or something else but the way his hand is holding you by the neck, his fingers low key choking you make your adrenaline runs faster.

He doesn’t give you the chance to process every single thing that’s happening, or even breathe, for that matter. The next thing you know, he already has his hands running down to your thighs, pulling them up so you have no other choice but to tangle your legs around his waist and groan when he presses your hips together. Hearing the sound of his name tumbling down your lips in a desperate, needy moan, Haechan groans at the back of his throat, his hands moving up to palm your breasts before they start to struggle with your shirt.

You’re doing the same thing, just as eager to get him out of his white shirt so you can latch your lips on his smooth sun-kissed skin. But unlike you who struggle to unbutton his shirt one by one, Haechan’s patience is wearing thin so he ends up just ripping your uniform, buttons clattering down to the floor.

“Wait, Hyuck—” You’re forced to swallow whatever it is you’re trying to say when Haechan sinks his teeth down to the skin that connects your neck to your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your shirt down to expose more of your bare skin. Your whole body shudders, clutching to him with every strength you have. It hurts, the way he bites and nibbles along your sensitive skin, but at the same time, it sends electricity down to every inch of your body.

“Do you have any idea how fucking pissed I am right now?” He says in a low, dangerous voice as he gnaws around your earlobe. “Turn around.”

With his nails sinking into your hips, he forces you to turn on your heel, pressing the side of your face against the door and tears your shirt away from your body. He doesn’t immediately take off your bra like he usually does, and instead focusing first on slipping his fingers underneath the band, thumbs glossing over your hardened nipples as he applies wet kisses on your nape. You almost let out a sob when his hand travels south, raking his fingers against your stomach before he takes off your skirt in such a hurry, leaving you in nothing but your black stockings and your laced panties.

Your entire body jolts when he slips a hand between your legs, rubbing you over your underwear before he suddenly pushes the fabric down and runs his fingertips along your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning your neck. “I’m surprised you like being treated like this.” But when you cry out his name, begging for him to stop teasing you already, he chuckles lowly. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You’re sure that you’re just reacting this way because it’s him and not anybody else and you want to tell him that but you can barely form a word with him rubbing his fingertips along your clit. “You’re actually quite dirty, aren’t you?” He brings two of his fingers to your lips, forcing you to suck them into your mouth and you oblige, knowing what he’s intending to do. You coat them with as much saliva as you can before he brings his hand down to your heat again, this time inserting one finger into your entrance with another one following soon after.

You hiss his name under your breath, becoming a little lightheaded from all this sensation you’re having at once. “What do you want me to do?” He asks tauntingly, knowing he’s in charge of everything.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, eyes tightly shut at the feeling of him finger fucking you to oblivion. “I want you inside me, Hyuck, fuck.”

“Maybe in a few minutes.” His teasing tone is back but it’s different. It’s almost menacing this time, somewhat heartless. He picks up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you until you find yourself biting your lip to contain your sob. “Do you know what I want?” He carves his words against your skin, taking a handful of your hair with his other free hand and yanking it back so you can’t help but face the ceiling. His lips are hovering dangerously close against your ear. “I want to fuck you raw. We’ve never done that before, have we? I want to come inside you—want to see my cum dripping down your thighs when I’m finished with you.”

Fuck. You almost cry from the temptation. “Then do it. I don’t care just—” You arch your back, sinking yourself down to his fingers, moaning against the side of his neck. “Please, just fuck me, Hyuck.”

“Good girl,” he replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice but you don’t care. He can be as cocky as he wants for the night because you secretly like it. You like how confident he is during sex, how passionate and sexy he can get, and how desperate and uncontrolled he becomes at the end. You can feel your stomach flip at the anticipation, especially when you hear him working on his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down only low enough for him to free himself.

“Let me fuck your mouth first,” he demands and you find yourself succumbing to his orders, turning around to face him before you drop to your knees, the tip of his cock protruding against your lips.

Haechan is still holding himself back, you’re sure, because he lets you take your own pace at first but his dominating persona comes back almost immediately when you only give him tentative licks against his slit. “Open up,” he orders, his fingers finding home in your hair and you loosen up your jaw to take him deeper.

Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes from how hard he’s hitting the back of your throat but you try to keep up. He moves his hips, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. When you feel him twisting his fingers around the strands of your hair, you look up to see his expression. Haechan has his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted in a silent moan and you hum proudly to yourself when he brings his eyes down to meet yours. They’re glazed with lust and he’s so sexy like this with his breathing ragged, soft moans flowing like music to your ears. And he’s probably feeling the same about you, from the way he pushes the bangs out of your eyes, taking every detail of your face as you hollow your cheeks, swallowing when his taste falls upon your tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “You look so perfect like this. You’re so fucking sexy, do you know that?” You hum, running your tongue along the prominent vein, giving kitten licks around the tip. Something gleams in his eyes and suddenly he commands you to stand up and pushes your body against the wall again, face first.

“Do you know how excited I was for today?” He grabs you by the waist, pushing his palm against your shoulder blades so you’ll bend lower, and positions himself against your entrance from behind. “I wanted to celebrate my birthday with you—just with you, Noona—even after our fight, I still wanted to spend it with you—”

“I know,” you gasp, thighs trembling when he rubs his tip against your folds. “I’m sorry—I was too busy with—“

“With work?” He taunts, “Or with that guy you’ve been seeing?”

“No—” A sudden yelp flows out of your mouth when he abruptly pushes himself entirely inside of you in one quick motion, his nails digging into the skin of your hips. Haechan moans a tad louder, much breathier, with his eyebrows knitted together in ecstasy. He’s more sensitive now since he’s not using a condom, directly feeling how wet and hot you are around him, how every clench makes him lose his mind and you can feel him twitching inside you. “Haechan—wait—”

He thrusts forward with such brute force, you find yourself pressed against the door. The dorm is quiet and with the way he’s slamming his hips against yours, the door making rhythmic banging noises against its frames, you’re sure you’re going to be noticed sooner or later.

“The bed—” You gasp, searching for the hands he has on your hips. “Let’s move to the bed—”

“Later,” he groans, his mind sinking in the way your heat is enveloping him.

“People can—” You have your eyes tightly shut when his thrusts get stronger. “They can hear us, Hyuck—”

He tangles his hand around your locks, making a messy ponytail out of them so he can yank on your hair as he rocks his hips faster. “I don’t fucking care,” he growls, “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

It feels fucking amazing the way he’s all breathless and rough, fucking you senselessly as if the world is ending, and it’s not long before your legs start to give up on you, quivering under the sensation.

“Fuck,” Haechan takes a sharp intake of breath, pulling you back against him when you’re about to fall. “Tired already, babe?” His chuckles are unfamiliar to your ears, as if he was mocking instead of teasing but you can’t really comment on it because he’s now pushing you down to the floor, forcing you to stay on all fours. “Now, now, what do we do?” He asks, spreading your thighs but holds your ass firmly in the air. “I’m just getting started.”

Every thrust of his hip feels like fire running all over your body and you can’t believe how good he is at hitting that particular spot deep inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep your voice down and Haechan notices it so he leans close, his chest pressing against your spine and you feel his lips and teeth caressing the crook of your neck as he speaks.

“Stop holding back your voice.” His voice sounds sultry, almost sinful to your ears. “I’ve told you before, right? I like hearing you say my name when we do this. Let me hear you moan.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want anyone to hear—“

“Well,” he doesn’t even let you finish. “I guess I’ll just have to force it out of you then.”

He slows down his pace, and instead of giving you fast, shallow thrusts, he focuses his strength on making each thrust hard and deep. You can feel your breathing being knocked out of your lungs, your toes curling in pleasure and if he keeps doing this, you know you’re not gonna last long. Your orgasm hits you so hard, a whimper falling from your mouth the way he likes it, and your body begins to shake.

Haechan laughs quietly against your ear. “You came, didn’t you? It feels so good—you feel so good around my cock.” He grabs you by the chin and roughly angles your head to face him. He kisses you hard, leaving you even more breathless than you already are before he says, “It’s my turn now.”

Haechan flips you to your back, spreading your legs wide as he sits on his knees, holding your ankles in the air like how he did the first time you had sex with him. Maybe it’s his favorite position, almost splitting your body in half, and seeing your face and your breasts bouncing up and down with every movement of his hips. You’re still dazed, reeling in the afterglow when Haechan pushes back into you again without warning, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, his lips parted forming your name between his breathy moans.

“I’ll never get tired of how you look when I fuck you like this,” he says, smirking in the sexiest way you’ve ever seen him do. “You’re so goddamn irresistible, you know that?”

It’s frightening how different and rough he’s being right now, and you’re about to cry out because you miss him—you miss the way he used to be. The adorable, annoying little tease that he was. How can you bring him back?

“Haechannie,” you call out, voice soft and quiet almost in a whisper. “I love you.”

His movement stops almost immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. He locks his gaze back with yours, his grip on your legs becoming loose. “What?”

“I love you,” you repeat, placing your legs down so you can sit up from your position. Your back feels sore, screaming in pain but you try not to wince. You reach out to grab his face, running your thumb along his lower lip. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck.” You kiss him gently, merely pressing your lips against his and you can feel how his body stiffen under your touch. “So calm down, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, as long as you let me.”

Haechan is still very much speechless and you decide to take control. You carefully push him down so he can sit back on the floor before you climb into his lap. You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair before you slide down, enveloping him once again. There’s a small moan escaping his lips, which you immediately capture with your own and his hands find their way back to your hips again.

“That’s not fair,” he says, his cheeks reddening slightly though he’s still scowling at you. “You’re just saying that so I won’t be angry with you anymore.”

“That too, but,” you’re interrupted by a moan that departs from your lips, can barely handle the way he twitches inside you. “I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time now. Especially when we fight. I just missed you so much, I couldn’t stand it.”

His pout is growing back on his face, though not as apparent. “Well, whose fault do you think is that?” It’s perfect, the way he moves inside you and it’s driving him crazy whenever you clench your walls around him.

“There’s nothing between me and Jaehyun, I promise you,” you softly murmur as you place open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “I’d never cheat on you, Hyuck. You know that, right?”

He shivers slightly under your touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Still,” he breathes out, “It doesn’t mean I’m fine with you meeting him behind my back.”

“He’s my boss, I wouldn’t be able to avoid him even if I wanted—” You have to end your sentence short when he rubs his thumb against your clit, reeling in the sensation. “Hyuck, you’re going to make me come again at this rate.”

“Good, because I intend to make you come at least three times tonight.” He snickers against your lips. “So you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

His movements become sloppy, going out of rhythm, even more desperate with each thrust and when you whisper with his earlobe between your teeth, “Happy birthday, baby,” he comes undone almost immediately with his face hiding between the slope of your neck.

He lays you down to the floor again, gently this time, before he hovers above you, his arms shaking slightly. “Holy shit,” he exhales, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his temple. “I think I came a lot inside you.”

“Glad I’m taking some pills then,” you reply, smiling a little as you cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the mole under his left eye. “You okay?”

“Are you okay?” He asks instead. “Was I too rough? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Why is it that whenever we have sex, you end up asking me these questions?” You chuckle. “Yes, you were. And yes, I am hurt. My back is killing me.”

“I’m…” There’s a slight panic flitting across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was kinda hot seeing you all riled up like that. It’s like you turned into a completely different person.” You pull him down by his necklace, murmuring against his lips, “I won’t mind if you fuck me like that again sometimes.”

It’s funny that after all of this that just happened, he actually blushes over your words. Quietly cursing under his breath, he leans back on his heels, slowly pulling out of you and stare intently at how his cum starts to seep out of you.

“Goddamn…” he mumbles, eyes unblinking as if he’s in a trance. “I really did come a lot inside you.”

“Consider that your birthday gift. Also, can you stop looking at me like that—it’s embarrassing.” You don’t usually get embarrassed about sexual stuff, especially now that your boyfriend’s shamelessness kind of rubs off on you, but Haechan really knows how to push your buttons.

Seeing you fidget out of shame, Haechan’s eyes twinkle, his lips forming a teasing grin. “No, wait, let me clean you up.” Despite what he says, he slowly pushes one finger into you, with another one following right after and you part your lips in a gasp but loss for words when you see him playing with his cum that’s mixed with yours, smearing it on the inside parts of your thigh.

“Haechannie,” you gasp, feeling his fingers inside you once again, with his thumb rubbing over your clit. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grins, showcasing his perfect teeth. “I’m going to make you come again. And then you’re going to make me come again.” His face hovers above yours, wetting his bottom lip as he stares lustfully at you. “Since it’s my birthday and you’re obliged to do whatever I want.”

You gulp. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

***

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

Headcanon - When he thinks you’re going to kiss him

Original title: 当他以为你要亲他

Original author: 君兮耶君兮 (jun xi ye jun xi)

[ VICTOR ]

Your gaze flits from Victor to the bookshelf, as though pondering on something quietly. While reading his documents, Victor’s sharp senses cause him to notice this. His eyebrows arch slightly as he waits for your next move.

Finally, you come to a decision. You step forward slowly, then lean down in front of him. “Victor...”

“Dummy,” he mumbles with a chuckle. He cooperates, closing his eyes and tilting his chin slightly.

“Hm? What did I do?” You express confusion, reaching out for a novel from the shelf behind him. Since he’s blocking your way, you have no choice but to grab the book through this intimate posture.

Victor stiffens, and he opens his eyes instantly. Your face is filled with question marks as you hold the book before him.

“Why did you close your eyes?”

“...my eyes were tired, so I was resting them.”

“Oh?” You glance at him slyly. “Even though you looked pretty weird smiling with your eyes closed, I believe you.”

In contrast to what you just said, the words “I don’t believe you” are more or less etched on your face in bold.

“...a certain company’s financial status is in line with expectations. That’s why I was smiling.” Unable to ignore the teasing look in your eyes, he sets down his notebook laptop, then stands up and pinches your face. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You quickly plead for forgiveness. “You’re the boss, so whatever you say is correct!” With this, you rescue your face from his clutches, preparing to flee.

One step ahead, Victor sees through your plan. How could he possibly let you off? He tugs on your arm, pressing you to his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I just wanted to read a book to relieve boredom,” you give him an embarrassed smile. “Since your eyes were closed, I actually planned to give you a kiss reluctantly. It’s your fault for calling me a dummy.”

“Reluctantly?” Victor chuckles in spite of himself. An arm snakes around your waist, causing you to tremble. His finger pad rubs your lips, and his scent occupies all of your senses.

“Since you’re here, don’t think of leaving.”

[ GAVIN ]

Standing in front of Gavin, you mete out your commands.

“Close your eyes and lift your head.”

Gavin is currently sitting on the bed and fixing a jigsaw puzzle. Thinking that you’re playing a game, he follows your instructions obediently. As he feels your soft fingers tilting his chin upwards slightly, he thinks about how his girl is no longer as shy as before, and knows how to initiate intimacy with him now.

But… nothing happens.

Just as he’s about to open his eyes, the hand pinching his chin shifts over to his cheek, giving it a light tug. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t put much thought into it, guessing that you’re just feeling shy.

You lean over, your warm breaths brushing his face. Gavin feels his muscles stiffening.

All of a sudden, something sticks to his lips. He subconsciously opens his mouth, but very quickly realises that something’s off. The thing that made contact isn’t you, but a cold and rounded object.

“Hey, don’t bite my lipstick!” Your heart aches as you stare at the bite marks on your newly bought lipstick.

“Lipstick?” Gavin’s eyes snap open, spotting himself in the mirror behind you. Sure enough, his lips are now dyed a bright red because of you. He freezes.

You point to your own lips. “Mm. I wanted to test if the shade’s nice, but I’ve already applied another shade. I needed you to be the model.” Tilting your head to admire the view, you chuckle. “Not bad.”

The grip around your wrist tightens. Before you can react, the man in front of you nibbles your lips gently. Two shades of lipsticks meld together, forming a new colour.

After a long while, Gavin finally lets you off so that you can catch your breath. As you lay in his arms with your cheeks flushed, he lowers his head to give you a peck on the lips.

“Your new lipstick looks pretty good.”

[ LUCIEN ]

“Professor Lucien!” You interlace your fingers together with his while lying in his arms.

Lucien looks down, meeting your bright and clear eyes. He responds with a knowing smile, lowering his head in compliance. “How did you know that I wanted a...”

Propping yourself up on his shoulder, you reach for a book on the shelf behind him.

Lucien: ...

“Know about what?” You snuggle yourself back into his arms. Based on his expression, you can tell what he thought was about to happen. However, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. You blink innocently. “I just wanted to grab a book.”

How could Lucien not know what’s on your mind? He bows his head to watch you, the deep pools of his eyes almost sucking you in.

“I thought my Little Miss was going to give me a kiss to recharge my batteries.” Lucien sounds wronged. Along with his usual piteous expression, you aren’t able to withstand it.

You gulp. No matter how handsome the fictional men in novels are, they can’t compare to your Professor Lucien - a feast for the eyes.

Seeing your emotions stir, Lucien follows up with his victory. “Turns out I thought too much. It’s okay, you can carry on with what you were busy with. I’ll just stay here on my own.”

He releases his hold on your waist. If you ignored Lucien’s watery gaze, you might have believed he was genuinely leaving you to your own devices.

“Pfft.” You can’t help but burst into a chuckle. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close the distance between the both of you. Giving him a peck on the lips, you grin while asking, “Do you still want to stay here on your own?”

Lucien’s return gift is another kiss.

“I think two people might be happier than one.”

[ KIRO ]

You spot something sticking on Kiro’s hair, and think of getting it out for him.

“Kiro, lower your head.”

Misunderstanding your intentions, Kiro complies and closes his eyes. He rushes you cheerfully. “Go on, Miss Chips! I just ate a strawberry flavoured candy, so my kiss will definitely be really sweet!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a cushion at the side and using it to smack him on the face. “You ate snacks on the sly again! And you hid them from me! I’m telling Savin!”

“Miss Chips, I lied. I didn’t eat any strawberry flavoured candy!” The undisciplined and lawless Little Kiro is most afraid of the Great Agent Savin.

“You changed your story so quickly. Who would believe you?” Although you usually fear Savin’s wrath as well, you aren’t an accomplice this time. If you were to spill the beans to Savin, he might give you permission to eat fried chicken and drink cola right in front of Kiro... Just the thought of this scene makes you happy!

Sensing your doubt, Kiro opens his mouth with an “ah”, showing that there really isn’t anything in his mouth. Then, he reveals a bag of unopened strawberry candies from behind him. “Look, I haven’t opened it yet. I wanted to eat them with you when you got back, but you wronged me.”

Taking the bag, you confirm that it hasn’t been opened. Looks like you truly maligned him. You scratch your head in embarrassment. “Sorry, Kiro. I misunderstood you.”

“Your apology is so insincere. I want a kiss!” Kiro shuts his eyes, straightforward and frank.

With a resigned chuckle, you readily give him a peck.

Your eyes snap open abruptly.

Where did that pitiful Kiro from earlier go to?

All that’s left is a bear cub with a mischievous smile. “You’ve found out, haven’t you? It was actually a tangerine flavoured candy. Miss Chips and I are accomplices now, so you can’t tell Savin!”

[ SHAW ]

You’re standing in front of him, unflinching and unblinking.

“Shaw.”

Meeting your clear eyes, the amusement in Shaw’s eyes darkens. He lowers his head obediently, letting you do as you please.

However, his tone is one of reluctance. “Tsk. I can’t say no to you. Go on.”

You toss a glance at this loose tongued rascal, reaching out towards his hair. Under his gaze of unconcealed joy and an expression which reads, “look at how much I indulge you”… you pluck bits of fur from the top of his hair, tugging on his bluish purple hair in the process.

Shaw, who is just about to wrap his arm around your shoulders for a “deep” interaction: ???

“What? Did you think I was going to kiss you?” You tease, watching his claws hang awkwardly mid-air.

Shaw reacts instantly, retracting his hand and pretending that nothing happened earlier. He glares at you, his attempts to cover up only making matters more obvious. “How’s that possible? I was referring to... yes, the thing you removed from my hair!”

“Little kids who tell lies won’t have girlfriends!” It’s rare to see him like this, and you can’t help but tease him.

“Tsk. You’re so troublesome.” He frowns. Before you can react, he grabs you by the shoulders and seals your lips. You feel a gentle nibble reminiscent of a little animal deathly afraid of breaking something.

Once your breaths return to normal, you lean against Shaw, legs wobbly. If it weren’t for his strength, you’d definitely have fallen to the ground.

Shaw has his arms around you as he presses you to him, the insuppressible smile on his lips announcing his pleasant mood.

“Who wants to be a little kid? Only intelligent adults have wives.”

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: Can, just state the author and the source

#mlqc #cheri shortcake

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logicalbookthief · 3 years

Text

Things Left Unsaid -- An Analysis of Rei & Touya

Apparently Rei has been getting a lot of flack lately, all of it undeserved, and since I had a post analyzing her relationship with Touya in the works already, I figured no time like the present.

Disclaimer #1: There are a lot of issues with the writing for Rei’s character that have nothing to do with her and everything to do with how the storyline is using her, which I will address and examine.

Disclaimer #2: I’m someone who, while always curious as to what kind of relationship Rei had with her oldest son before he died, never thought it would be revealed that Touya was close to his mom. I don’t think you get the Dabi we see in Chapters 290-295 without him being so warped by his relationship with his father yet so dependent on his attention that he was willing to kill his brother and himself simply for his father’s acknowledgement.

But that’s what I find so interesting about Rei and Touya -- it’s a relationship that mainly consists of regrets and things left unsaid. There isn’t the anger or resentment Dabi feels for Endeavor, because that intense level of emotion sprung from the loss of the father who used to be his whole world. His feelings toward his mother seem more amicable, but also more distant.

And while she could’ve done some things differently in regards to her oldest, I want to make it clear that the distance between them was very much by design.

After all, Touya was the end goal of their marriage. It was never any secret as to why Enji wanted to marry her and to some extent Rei must’ve realized that this child was not meant to be hers: the child was the transaction, the thing she was needed to create, to give to her husband. Of course she loved Touya and was likely his primary caregiver for most of his life, but there was no doubt that once his quirk manifested and he could begin his hero training, his life would be dominated by his father. Which is what happened.

Here, I would like to point out something I noticed in the flashback chapters. We never see any panels of Enji alone with any of his children during their infancy -- even with Shouto, the perfect child he longed for, we see Rei holding Shouto, sitting by him as he sleeps. Enji is there tangentially. Once Shouto begins his training, that is when we see him with his father.

So to see Enji with Touya when he was a baby, prior to his quirk manifesting, strikes me as a big deal. But it makes sense if you remember that he’d placed all his hopes, dreams and expectations on his firstborn. Initially, it doesn’t look like he even considered the possibility that Touya wouldn’t be his successor or that his little eugenics experiment would fail; this was his first, most optimistic attempt at a masterpiece. So I don’t believe it’s far-fetched to see him spend more time with Touya right off the bat (it’s what will make the eventual abandonment all the more crushing).

However, Rei isn’t seen at all in the snippet of Touya’s infancy, despite us knowing she was relegated to the caregiver role. Rei is literally out of the picture. Compare this to how she features prominently in Shouto’s infancy or how we see her holding a baby Natsuo. You could argue that, hey, we don’t see her holding a baby Fuyumi either, but there’s other scenes where Fuyumi’s attached to her mother’s hip or crying over her being hurt. Things that suggest a closeness, when the only scene we get of just her and Touya is one where they’re at odds.

As we move further into Touya’s childhood, though, Rei becomes the only voice we hear advocate for him against his father. I’m referencing two specific instances:

When Enji coerces her into having more children to replace Touya now that his father has deemed him a failure, something she knows will hurt their son deeply.

And after Touya lashes out at Shouto, which Rei doesn’t blame on Touya, but rather on his father. She delivers such a satisfying condemnation of his actions, probably the most cutting one Endvr’s received to date, and it so accurately sums up one of his major character flaws.

How can you call yourself a hero when you can’t even face your own son?

The tragedy of it all is that Rei never said any of this in front of Touya -- it was always said in private, just to her husband. That alone took courage, yes, but it would’ve meant everything to Touya to hear her condemn his father aloud. Instead when she does speak to him, she says this:

It’s why I can’t wrap my head around that scene in Ch 302, where after Enji admits he didn’t know what to say to Touya, Rei replies, “Neither did I.”

When we’re shown in flashbacks during that same chapter that she did understand her son. “He just wants to be acknowledged by you” is quite the indication that she, at the very least, understood the cause of Touya’s turmoil even if she couldn’t fully relate to it herself. So why can’t she say any of this to him?

The answer is in the way she addresses Touya, as it is nearly identical to how Nao addresses Tenko in this scene:

Both Touya and Tenko grew up in similar households: the father had all the power, physical and financial, so the mothers were left to try and comfort their children in a way that didn’t go against their husbands’ desires -- and so, to use Tenko’s own words, they would “reject them with kindness.”

So it’s no wonder that Touya lashes out at his mother after she suggests he pursue other things. He isn’t five like Tenko was, he’s thirteen and has a much clearer understanding of why she says this and why it’s a bit hypocritical, since he’s aware of her situation, too.

Just as she was bound by her family, who wanted her to marry Endvr for the money and status, he’s bound by the expectations of his family. I’m not sure if I’ve seen anyone else touch on this detail, but when Touya states that he knows his grandparents sold his mom into marriage so his dad could have a child, we could infer that Touya knows enough to realize that his mother might not have necessarily wanted him.

Not him specifically, but any child — the story has neglected to flesh her out beyond her marriage and motherhood, so we have no idea if Rei wanted to become a mother prior to this arrangement, despite how much she loves her kids now — although it is possible that he might’ve internalized it this way.

So you have Touya, who at least knows with certainty that his father wanted him to exist, yet he comes to understand that his father only wants him if he can meet a specific set of expectations, and if he cannot, he’ll be discarded. If he can’t surpass All Might, he can’t fulfill his reason for existing and his father will have to replace him. So to have his mother urge him to follow a path other than becoming a hero would mean, to Touya, accepting that he is the mistake he fears he is. Of course he isn’t going to respond well to that.

I don’t like when people try to compare Touya’s reaction in this moment to Shouto’s when Rei tells him he isn’t bound by his father’s blood, using that to paint Shouto as the “good” child and Touya as the “bad” one. They didn’t react differently because of any innate sense of goodness or lack thereof -- they reacted differently because the situations are different.

Telling Shouto that he didn’t have to be like his father comforted Shouto, who only knew his father as the bully who hurt his mom. He associated his father, and his father’s fire, with all of that fear and pain -- and thus, he associated the part of himself that took after his father with those feelings. She wasn’t denying his dream of becoming a hero, only assuring him that when he became a hero it could be whatever kind of hero he chose to be, that he wasn’t doomed to be like his father.

Whereas what she tells Touya sounds a lot like what his father told him, which was to give up on being a hero and pursue other aspirations.

Encouraging Shouto to become his own version of a hero still falls in line with what Endvr ultimately wants, which is for Shouto to be a hero capable of surpassing All Might. Whereas this is what happens when Touya continues to train to do that against his father’s wishes:

This is where the framing begins to bother me and where Rei’s characterization becomes inconsistent.

So in this scene from Ch 302, we see Enji abusing his wife for “letting” Touya continue to train, punishing her for her “failure” to stop him. Obviously, none of that is Rei’s fault. If anything, Enji would be more responsible for preventing Touya from hurting himself since he’s the reason his son is hurting himself in the first place.

Moreover, the fact that he hits Rei over this sort of muddies the water of an previously-established narrative. Since the Sports Festival arc, we’ve known that Endvr abused his wife because she tried to interfere with Shouto’s training. It got to the point where she was terrified of her husband and it drove her to a breakdown. Why introduce this new aspect to the abuse, when it was already established that a) he was physically abusive and b) his motivations for abusing her were explicit to the audience?

I’m not saying it doesn’t make sense that a man who hits his wife for one reason could find another reason to do it and justify his actions to himself. And while the scene does portray Endvr in a bad light to show how wrong his actions are, literally draping his figure in shadow, why does it even dare to suggest the idea that Rei was remiss in her duties as a mother? Again, the scene isn’t even necessary, since the narrative has long-since showed the audience that Enji abused his wife.

By itself, the scene would read as further exploration of how Rei was victimized and how it affected her children. When you look at it with the chapter as a whole, though? Remember, this is the chapter where Rei claims that all of the family shares the blame in what happened to Touya, displacing some of the blame that rightfully rests on Enji.

But my major gripe with this scene is how it reframes the sole moment we get of Rei and Touya alone. Because we know that Rei understands Touya, based on her confrontations with her husband in Ch 301 & 302. Rather than encourage him to be what he wants or acknowledge that his father is in the wrong, however, her advice falls in line with what Enji wants -- to stop Touya from training. And this comes after a scene where we see Enji beat his wife when she doesn’t stop Touya from training.

With all that in mind, it could potentially be read as Rei trying stop Touya for the sake of protecting herself and the family -- I don’t think it’s coincidence that in the scene where he hits her that we see Shouto, Fuyumi & Natsuo all as witnesses who are very distressed by what’s happening to their mother -- at the cost of Touya’s need to be validated. And if executed well or at least better than it has here, that wouldn’t be a bad choice of narrative per se, and it would fit into the pattern where the households the villains were raised in -- notably Shigaraki, Dabi & Toga -- mimic the society they live in, just on a smaller scale.

Except. Does that sort of narrative make sense based on what we already know about Rei?

Certainly, it is natural to want to protect yourself under physical and/or emotional duress by appeasing your abuser. This sort of complicated dynamic appears in the Shimura family, too. Just like in the house that Kotaro built, the Todoroki family revolves around the desires of the abuser and is dictated by his whims.

I would argue that Nao does give us a well-written example of this narrative. From the beginning, it’s established that she loves Tenko dearly. But in the house her husband built, there’s no room to love her son as he deserves. She prioritizes the feelings of Tenko’s father for the sake of maintaining peace in the household and this is established quickly and plainly.

Early on in the flashback, Kotaro exerts his control over the house, while Nao + her parents look uncomfortable. Despite this, we watch as they comply with his rules, all at the expense of Tenko’s feelings. When she stands up to Kotaro at last, it is not where Tenko can see and already too late. It’s a painful story, full of regret and sadness, but it is consistent from start to end. Nobody feels out-of-character or there to prop up anybody else.

So why doesn’t Rei feel as consistent in this narrative?

Because it doesn’t fit with everything we knew about Rei prior to her abuser’s subpar redemption arc.

The way she interacts with Touya would make sense, if this was how she was portrayed from the start. However, her behavior in Shouto’s flashback -- where she was first introduced -- contrasts what we get in the later Todoroki flashbacks.

Let’s compare this to the scenes in Ch 302. Here, Rei interferes on Shouto’s behalf. She advocates for her son in front of Shouto where he can hear. She stands up to his bully/villain and tries to protect him, while also validating his feelings in the process. Directly after this, Enji hits her, not for failing to comply with his demands, but for defying him.

It is difficult to reconcile this Rei with the Rei we get in Ch 302. And if you try to find an in-story reason for the inconsistency, the options either do a disservice to Rei or make things even more painful for Touya. But I’m sure most of you have realized that I’m going to suggest a reason for this inconsistency that goes beyond the canon.

Because when Rei was first introduced in the story, Endvr was unequivocally the villain in the Todoroki family, not some misguided patriarch trying to atone for his “past” mistakes. Years later and in the midst of his redemption arc, the narrative seems to be intent on making this man more palatable to readers, and it’s used Rei at every opportunity to prop up his efforts to be better. Often, though, it takes some of the heat off Enji by displacing it onto other family members, most significantly Rei & Touya.

Like, you can literally see the difference in the frame from early in the manga to now:

Ch 39: Endvr trains his five-year-old to the point where he’s throwing up due overextension and being punched by a fully grown adult who is also his father. Rei tries to protect her son and gets slapped by Endvr. All the blames rests squarely on Endvr, who is clearly the aggressor and painted as the villain here.

Ch 302: Endvr hits Rei for not preventing Touya from sneaking out to train, knocking her to the ground. Again, Endvr is clearly the aggressor, but oh this time it’s not driven solely by his selfish desires it’s also cocnern for his son; Rei is the victim but oh she also should have been watching him more closely, and oh well why was Touya going out in the first place, when everyone has told him to stop and he knows his mom will get punished for it?

Honestly, I can understand where some people have mixed feelings over Rei’s character, particularly since the writing has done her such a disservice recently. With that being said, however, it takes a minimum amount of critical thinking to recognize that while you can criticize some choices she made, you cannot hold her to the same standard of accountability as Enji, it’s absurd. The power imbalance was obviously tipped in Endvr’s favor, always.

It is a shame, too, that we can’t have more discussions that don’t turn into some readers (a lot of whom are attempting to make Endvr sound less horrible than he actually was) trying to demonize her. It’s doubly a shame the story itself doesn’t bother to flesh her out as a person, instead using her as a prop, because the complex relationships she has with Touya -- with all her children, really -- has plenty of room for exploration.

Like, there was no reason to add this new dimension of resentment due to her spouting Enji’s words back at Touya, when there was already a source of tension supported by previous canon -- the neglect the Todoroki kids suffered because Rei couldn’t be the parent they needed, due to her declining mental health and eventual breakdown.

Or, if you want to complicate their dynamic further, why not add something that focuses on Rei and has nothing to do with Enji? We learn in the flashbacks that Rei agreed to the marriage more-or-less to please her family, lamenting that she “intended to smile through it to the end,” essentially admitting that her hope was she could grin and bear it. It is telling that she had this attitude before entering her marriage; evidently, she was raised with the idea that she should be acquiescent to her parents’ whims and not express herself if she was only going to be contrary. Maybe she didn’t know how to deal with Touya’s very expressive, very emotional outbursts as a result. And her inability to respond would be the exact opposite of what Touya was seeking.

Not to mention that Touya died, and for the last decade, Rei was under the impression she had lost her son forever. He died while she was hospitalized, torn up with guilt over what she did to Shouto, only to find out that her other son died in a frankly horrific manner, and she could do nothing. By the time she would’ve found out, it was too late to even try to do anything. I can’t imagine what she must’ve felt in terms of regret alone, plus her grief. And I’m still mad we were robbed of her reaction to Touya being alive, because now suddenly there is a chance to do something, to change what was once written in stone.

Or what about Touya’s feelings for his mother, that have yet to be given much depth? As the oldest and most aware of his existence, it seems like he was the first to truly understand his mother’s situation and I can’t help but wonder: If Touya knew he vessel for his father’s ambition, and his mother was sold into role of creating/caring for him, did he question her love for him? Once he found out one parent’s love was conditional, it wouldn’t be a leap for him to consider it for the other. And yet if that’s true, Dabi doesn’t appear to hold any ill-will towards her for that. He was angry at her hypocrisy, because he knows she should understand, but her words to him didn’t reflect that.

All of that is fascinating and so much better than what we got in canon, so far at least. I’m hoping for them interact in the present at least once before the end of the series, and I think they will, but as to how satisfying a reconciliation it’ll be, I guess we’ll have to wait to see how the Todoroki plotline progresses from here on out.

#bnha #touya todoroki #rei todoroki #bnha meta #bnha analysis #this took way too long because I kept having more thoughts which made it even longer lol #and it actually gave me another idea for a touya & rei meta post but this is already a monster so that'll have to be its own separate post

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knjsnoona · 3 years

Text

Restoration

genre: smut || slice of life pairing: jin x reader word Count: 10.1k rating: 18+ warnings: language, light dom!jin, explicit sexual descriptions, choking, fingering summary: Return to your childhood hone with your partner, Jin only to discover how much it’s changed. project: this part of the bcc summer games event~ it’s was for the image prompt which is the one under the name of the fic in the banner lol this was meant to be short, but then i included this whole first half smh credits: a HUGE thank you goes to my amazing beta reader @destructiveasparagus ! helped me find where my weaknesses lie and super incredibly helpful in how to learn from my mistakes! thank you so so much! i hope to improve with my future works!

It had been a long time since you’d been to your hometown, so long you barely recognized it as you drove in with your fiancé. Streets you once ran around on as a child—knowing each backstreet like the back of your hand—now seemed like the paths of a maze; roads that stirred distant memories of laughter and joy.

Eyes catching new shops where your favorite childhood hangouts once stood, a dull ache laced with both nostalgia and discomfort begins to stir within you. It seems the town had decided to be more modern… more suburban you guessed. It kind of made you sad if you were honest with yourself. You were expecting to return to the home you once loved, and to be bathed in the memories of each corner, shop, and alley.

Becoming more frustrated with each new sight you didn’t recognize, you sink into your seat releasing a sigh. Crossing your arms loosely over your chest, you look down at your knees. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you pondered what your neighborhood would look like. You hoped against hope that at least that small corner of your memories wouldn’t be betrayed.

“You okay?”

Catching your attention, you look to the side at your fiancé who had turned to look at you as he made a stop at a red light. His handsome features twisted into concern, which brought a small smile to your lips. Softly nodding, you try to assuage his worries.

“I’m fine, Seokjin. Just realizing how long it’s been since I was home is all,” melancholy weaving into your voice, gaze forlornly sweeping out the windows of the vehicle again.

“Changed that much, huh?” eyes still on you, every so often shuffling to make sure the street light hadn’t changed yet.

You nod, watching as a couple of teenage girls walk with some name brand iced coffees in their hands, eyes glued to their phones, as they giggled about something mundane. Feeling like a creep for staring, you shake your head and look back at the man by your side. “It’s definitely changed.... too much.”

God, you’d never identified with a boomer harder than you did at this very moment. Words of when I was kid at the tip of your tongue, wanting to rant about all the things you remembered as a kid and how it had been ruined now. You’d never regretted leaving home before, not until this moment. All of your treasured spots, destroyed by gentrification. How depressing.

But then you look at what you had gained from your departure from home and you realize how silly you’re being. You had found tons of struggle out in the world on your own. Learned what it was like to truly live in a woman’s world; having to work twice as hard for half the pay of a man; earning the way you had to always be cautious and on the lookout for dangers that lurked around every corner when the sun went down; learned how to pick yourself back up and work harder, when you were passed up on a promotion in favor of the manager’s son.

But you made it through every obstacle. You were a fighter, and never shied away from fighting to get what you wanted. To deal with the dangers of walking around at night, you took self defense classes. You quit the job that underpaid you. And when the manager at that other job finally offered you that promotion, you gave them your two weeks. You decided to take a position at a startup company that saw your worth, valued your opinions and took your ideas into consideration. A company where you were promoted and given more power to help it grow. It had grown into a multimillion-dollar business. Whose technology had been implemented in every hospital in the country. And the genius behind its creation and production sat by your side.

Kim Seokjin had been a godsend. You’d bumped into him one night at a bar after a particularly rough day of work. You had dropped into the seat beside him, not sparing a single glance his way as you ordered a beer. Shoulders slumping, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration pushing your tears back in. Noticing your distress, he reached out to you. He asked after your well being, taking you by surprise. Cautiously you spoke to him that night, only to be pleasantly surprised by his kind nature. While sharing the struggles of your days with each other, he brought up his start up and how he was looking to fill the position. Handing you a card before you both parted ways, he offered you a position without even knowing your qualifications.

Long story short, you took the position, worked your way up and fell in love with the company's CEO. Of course, there were those that always felt the need to fill the office with unnecessary drama. Hushed whispers in the break rooms, and muttered words across the cubicles of how you had slept your way to the top. But you shrugged them all off, no water off a duck’s back right? Besides, how do you sleep your way to the top of a tiny startup? There was no top or bottom. The tomfoolery of the envious, honestly.

The car jerking into motion brings you back to the present. Blinking the memories of the past decade or so out of the way. Vision returning to your present day home town, suddenly not so bothered by the changes. Your home had grown up and adapted, just as you had. That thought alone brings a smile to your face. A hand slipping over your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you completely beam as you take Jin's hand in your own ringed hand. Placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand, as you hold it tenderly in your lap, his quiet laugh filling the space in the car as you continued on your way.

Some ten minutes later, you pull up the front of your childhood home; warmth filling your chest as you notice how little it’s changed. Aside from a few cosmetic changes it was still the same. And there they were, all the memories rushing in at once. The feelings you had been anticipating finally hit you. Now you felt like you were truly home as you were surrounded by all the wonderful memories of your childhood.

A gentle hand on your lower back brings you back, you smile up at Jin who stands by your side. A reassuring smile adorns his plush lips, as he rubs small circles on your back in a show of support and affection.

“You ready?”

Taking one large lung full of air, you hold it for a couple beats before deflating and nodding up at him. The steadying warmth of his hand on your lower back fills you with all the confidence you needed as you made your way up the stone patch.

Worries of how your family would react to you being back niggling the back of your mind. You tried to keep in touch as much as you could but there were times it was almost impossible due to financial stability or work load. Damn, a small bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. So you stand frozen, finger just a few inches from the doorbell. Maybe you should’ve called before showing up.

Sensing your internal struggle, Jin wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Plush lips press to the crown of your head leaving a quick kiss. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe,” he whispers into your hair.

“How do you know? I mean- I’ve been gone so long… they have to be angry with me. What if they think I don't care?” you fret, teeth gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt, wrinkling the smooth fabric in the anxiety.

Chuckling softly, the arm around you turns you to face the tall male. Eyes roam your face, a warmth in them that always somehow seem to soothe your nerves. And sooth they did as you could feel your worries begin to ebb away.

“Hey, none of that,” he chastises, as he presses his hand lightly to your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip down. “You’re going to chew yourself raw. And we don’t want that. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips as if to soothe away any stinging there.

Your lips can’t help but spread into a smile at how he was being such a mother hen. He was always like this, not just with you but with his employees as well. It’s what made him such a good boss, and an even better partner. Lady luck was feeling extremely generous the day she led you to Jin in that quaint bar.

Returning your smile, he quickly places multiple kisses around your face—on your nose, your cheeks, and your forehead. Arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, as you giggle at the onslaught of kisses he bestowed you with. The sound of his mirth joining yours, pulling back to hold your cheeks gently. Eyes looking into your own as he assures you, “Everything is going to be fine, so stop stressing for once. We’re here to relax okay?”

Sighing, you nod with a smile still perched on your face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. And the most handsome!” all the confidence in the world seeping out of his words, smugness painting over his pretty features.

You scoff playfully, smacking his arm. “And yet you like claiming you’re humble,” shaking your head you turn back to the door and ring the doorbell without hesitation.

“Well, I’m not bragging if it’s a fact,” comes his witty retort which has your eyes rolling. This was nothing new with him, the man knew he was good looking. I mean you’d have to be blind to not think so as well. But you know, can’t let his ego inflate too big.

“I don’t know… I've seen better looking,” you shrug nonchalantly as you press the doorbell again, hoping someone was actually home. Yeah, you definitely should’ve called ahead.

“What? Where? Who is he!? Wait, are you talking about that kid in marketing? What’s his name?” he instantly barrages you with a succession of questions, jealousy bleeding into his tone. “That pretty boy with the deep voice! You-”

He’s suddenly cut off by the jingling of a handle and the lock being turned, as the door swings open. Your mother stands before you, surprise marring her features. Features that remained the same after all these years, a few wrinkles showing her age joined the painting that was your mother’s face. You’d pictured—imagined—scenarios of seeing her again, of how it would go but the feelings you felt now were far more intense than anything your mind could conjure up. .

You were sure the shock she wore was mirrored by you, as you stood there taking the other in. Your heart hammered away at your chest, pumping emotions into every vein throughout your body until it began to leak out of your eyes. As the first drop made it’s journey down your cheek, you stepped forward prompting your mother to mirror your actions, crashing into each other's arms. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so much and up until that point had been unaware that you had missed being held in the arms of your mother.

You could feel her tears seep through the shirt on your shoulder, happy greetings and words blubbered in excitement. Laughing you pull back enough to look at her, a watery smile greeting you.

“I’ve missed you, Momma,” your voice trembling with the emotions overtaking you.

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you safe and healthy. I was worried you weren’t eating well this whole time. I know how you can get, you get too involved in what you’re working on and forget to eat,” your mother rambles on, word vomit just pouring out of her. All the words she hasn’t been able to share with you now fill the space between you. As a teenager you would’ve been annoyed, but now as a grown adult you were endeared by her light nagging.

“She still does that,” Jin's voice catching both of your attention. “Not eat, I mean.”

You turn to him, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, and an incredulous look on yours. Wow, not even two minutes, and he was already selling you out to your mother. You shake your head at him, eyes trying to signal for him to stop. He simply chuckles back.

“Oh is that right?” Your mother gives you a look, before looking back at your handsome partner. “And who might this be?” Eyebrows raise in question to you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Momma, this is my, um, fiancé, Kim Seokjin. Jin this is my mother,” you awkwardly introduce them. Biting the corner of your lip as you look at your mother out of the corner of your eye.

She looks at you, surprised at your engaged status, which you hadn’t had the chance to bring up during the brief, rare calls home. You can see the message hidden in her eyes, we’ll talk about this later, before turning to Jin. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My, you’re a handsome one.”

You close your eyes and internally groan before turning to Jin pointing a cocky smile your way. He sure was annoying when he was proven right. Gloating prick.

He gives you a quick eyebrow wiggle before turning to smile at your mother. “You’re too kind, really,” acting embarrassed, as he rubs the back of his neck and bows in gratitude once more.

“Oh! And he’s modest!” your mothers cheers delightedly.

Wow, he pulled the fake modesty card. You shake your head at him as you quietly scoff, lips almost quirked in a smile, as he winks at you. He was something else. But he was your something else. He was worth it. Headaches, terrible jokes and all.

“So… is anyone else home?” you questioned, curious as to whether your father, or if any of your siblings, were around. You weren’t sure if they’d be as welcoming as your mother, but her warmth and acceptance of you returning gave you the confidence to continue forward.

Your mother nods at you excitedly, wrapping an arm around yours and moving you towards the door. Jin follows behind amused as your mother explains how one of your aunts was visiting with her family, and how a couple of your siblings were in town. She went a mile a minute, spewing out even the latest family gossip—your father’s brother had cheated on his wife, your cousin had come out of the closet after being caught mid act (“What a scandalous event that was!”) and even how your mother’s eldest sister had beat breast cancer.

You sighed happily as you let your mother lead the way, Jin flanking behind you. Man it felt good to be home.

“We got incredibly lucky,” you said loudly, as you placed a small pile of folded clothes in a drawer. Pacing back over to the suitcase on the bed, pulling out your underwear to place in the same drawer to one side.

“What?” Jin called from the room over.

“I said we got lucky!” you replied, voice louder than before.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. We‘re lucky they didn’t charge a cancellation fee at the hotel.”

Your mother, after making the rounds with the family, had insisted you stay in your old room. You were surprised that it had remained as you had left it. You were sure it would’ve been turned into a home gym by now, or a man cave for your brother that was still home. The fact that it was still intact, filled you with emotion. Your mother must have held out hope you’d come back, so when she insisted you agreed, unable to deny her request.

Of course there was the task of cancelling your hotel reservation, which everyone knows last minute cancellations come with some hefty cancellation fees. You felt bad as you had dialed the number on your cell, but Jin assured you it was fine and was worth it if you were happy.

As Jin worked on unloading the luggage, you spoke with the concierge who upon looking up the reservation, gifted you with the surprise of not incurring a late fee. You had been surprised and tried to verify the cancellation policy to which the male on the other end confirmed there would be no charge and wished you a pleasant day. You returned the sentiment as you hung up and looked at your partner in mild stupor before relaying the information to which he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, bringing in the rest of your belongings.

“You're still stuck on that?” he points out, humor ringing in his voice.

“Well, isn’t it a bit surprising to you?” you huff, cheeks puffing a bit in a pout.

“I guess…” he trails off momentarily. You could hear the gears turning before he returned with, “Maybe it’s because they saw who I was.”

“What? Why would that matter?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and could already feel your eyes preemptively rolling.

“Because, I’m the youngest, most handsome CEO in the nation.�� A wheezing laugh following his words, almost sounding like windshield wipers.

Your eyes roll so hard, you see the back of your skull, and into an alternate universe. Why did you put up with him again? And as the sound of a door opening fills the space, you remember one of the reasons as he walks through the door. Towel wrapped loosely around his hips, muscles flexing as he rubbed his hair dry with another towel, he stood in all his glory. Your eyes chase drops of water running down his wet skin, swallowing hard where they disappear into the material knotted around his narrow hips.

“Sweetheart, you’re making me blush with all the ogling,” he chuckles smugly. “I get it though.”

You snap out of your daze, eyes narrowing at his cocky face in annoyance. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore him—turning back to your bag, grabbing some of your toiletries to place on the dresser. Distracted by your task you don’t notice Jin walk up behind you, until you’re tugged back into his wet torso.

“You know,” he mutters into your ear, “I haven’t forgotten that little quip from earlier.” One of his large hands slides up your body, finding its home wrapped around your jaw. He tilts your head back into his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you further into his form. “You think that kid in the office is better looking than me.”

You take a few calming breaths, body becoming alert with excitement as Jin invades your space. Every word and touch begins to stir desire within you.

“I never said that. You assumed… you know what they say about when you assume,” you can’t help but gibe, lips tugging up in a smirk.

A growl rumbles through you as the grip on your jaw tightens slightly. “Don't be a smart ass… I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no one is aware. I’m not an idiot.”

You chuckle, unable to help yourself. His jealous words turn you on more than they should.

“I can’t help it if he’s pretty to look at,” you state complacently.

“Pretty?” he chuckles at your audacity, grip tightening slightly around your jaw. Swinging your jaw away from the direction of his face, the feel of his lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. “You do look at him. Tell me, do you fantasize about him?”

Your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath traveling through your trapped body; an aching starting to pulse between your thighs. Hands moving back to rest on his towel covered thighs to help maintain balance, but more importantly to assist in feeling grounded.

“You do, don't you…?” His nose nuzzles at your ear, lips pressing behind your ear. “Is that why you stare? Because you imagine what it would be like to have him inside you?” the arm wrapped around your waist loosens, hand traveling south to the apex of your thighs.

You bite your lip, unable to answer his questions. His touch leaves trails of flames wherever they roam, burning any words from you. His words are simmering your blood.

“Is your silence an admission?” he says with a slight edge to his voice. “You imagine him sliding into you? Taking you? As if you're his?” His grip on your jaw moves to your throat, fingers wrapping deliciously around the smooth muscle and flesh.

“You’ll never be his,” he hisses. The hand between your thighs grips your core tightly, a whine escaping your lips at the slight pain and pleasure. “This,” grip tightening for emphasis, “is mine! Your cunt belongs to me. My cock will be the only one to ever claim it,” Jin growls into your ear, hips pressing his hard member into your ass.

Fuck, that was enough to ruin your underwear. His words release the floodgates, slick escaping your lower lips to soak your panties. The growl rumbling against your back, and vibrating in your ear has your mind blanking for a moment, thighs clenching involuntarily around his wrist.

“Turned on by that?” he crows, self gratification filling every word. “Do you like hearing me claim you? The affirmation that no other man will ever ruin this pretty pussy like me?”

Your breath hitches, a strong pulse running through your body like seismic activity relaying that an eruption is imminent. With the way Jin is rutting into your back, hand gently petting your mound, it was only a matter of time before he had you bursting in ecstasy.

His lips lightly trail up and down the shell of your ear, removing his hand from your throat to grip at your jaw and tilt your face up at him. Faces so close, your noses brush, breaths intermingling. He pulls back his head, looking down at you as the corner of his lip lifts in smirk just as he shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear. Long, warm fingers softly run over your lips, massaging gentle circles into them.

Licking his luscious lips, he hisses when one his fingers swipes between your lips. “Fuck,” he groans, biting his thick lip. “You’re this wet from a few words... '' A finger swirling around your opening, spreading your juices. The digit slides up to your sensitive nub, giving it the same attention. Pressing down with a bit of pressure, rolling it around making you arch your back, eyes clenching.

You feel Jin nudge your nose with his own, brushing his lips against yours. Eyes fluttering open, they meet his dark eyes, completely blow black from his arousal. Pink muscle slipping from his lips, sliding across yours teasingly while his hips slowly press against yours to get a bit of relief as your hands grip the towel resting over his flexing thighs. Your lips part, inviting his devilish tongue in, the prelude of you parting your legs for his length.

Taking the invitation, Jin shoves his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The moist muscle wrestling with yours as you kiss each other desperately. Both of you beyond the point of slow and steady when he shoves two digits into your core, his mouth trapping the groan he rips out of you. With no patience, the digits set a steady pace as his palm presses into your clit. Your hips buck at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Your lips crash against each other like waves, teeth clacking as you try to get closer.

He pulls back from the kiss provoking a whine from you. His jaw clenches as his fingers fuck into your hole, scissoring your walls, preparing you for him. You press your ass into him, feeling how hard he is, your walls quiver around his fingers.

“No more,” you moan quietly.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” he lazily grins down at you, grinding the palm of his palm down on your nub.

Your eyebrows pinch at the stimulation, lips parting without a sound escaping before you’re able to gather your senses again. “No… no more foreplay.” Your lusty gaze meets his, your chest heaving as you try to even it out. “I want you inside me now,” reaffirming how it was only him you wanted.

He pulls you into a hard kiss, pulling his hand out of your pants. Releasing your jaw, he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs. Lifting your legs to kick them off, he rotates your bodies to walk you back into the bed, nearly ripping your shirt off you. You almost fall as your legs hit the bed, ripping his lips from yours. You both gasp for air as you stare at each other for a moment.

His hand slides into your hair, scratching soothingly at your scalp before gripping it in a firm hold. Turning your face to the side, he leans in, licking a stripe up your neck to your ear. He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth teasingly tugging it. Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, he nuzzles the hair behind it, breath tickling your ear pleasurably.

“Turn around. I want you bent over this bed, with your ass in the air for me. I want to see how your cunt weeps for me.”

His words strike a hard cord within you, goosebumps appearing all over your flesh. You bite your lip, turning your body away from him and move into position. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he uses the grip on your strands to push you down further into the comforter, back completely arched now.

Strands slipping between his fingers as he removes his hand, the other palms your ass cheek, pulling it to the side to look at your core. The groan that leaves him makes you clench.

“Look how pretty… so wet and inviting. Look how your hole clenches, begging for my dick.” His other hand grabs onto the opposite cheek, pulling it away to open you even more to him. Pressing his hips to yours, he slots his length against your soaked lips. Slowly rubbing his member up and down, lubricating himself with your slick.

Every word makes you clench, the desire raging inside you growing desperate for him to fill you. Every throb of the thick shaft almost makes you delirious.

Eyes previously squeezed shut flutter open, as your hands grip the comforter. A childish print catches your attention, suddenly the realization hits you. You’re back at your childhood home, in a house full of relatives. You weren’t alone in this house, and they weren’t asleep. Now that you had awareness, you could hear them beyond the door chattering. You had let lust get away with you.

“Jin wait…” you hiss.

He stops all movement, one of hands gently petting your lower back. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” worry slipping into his words.

“No no. You didn’t hurt me. I just… I realized we’re not alone. We can’t do this here. My family is right out there,” you explain in a loud whisper, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

Silence reigns for a moment.

“So?” Jin's single word pierces the quiet.

“What?” you question, baffled by his nonchalance.

“What does that matter?” He shifts before pressing against you, the head of his cock prodding at your bud. He leans over your back, hands resting on your hips. “It doesn’t bother me, and it never has to you either. You never complain when I fuck you in my office, surrounded by all of our coworkers... our employees.”

You swallow hard.

“In fact, you love initiating it. Teasing me in front of them, riling me up.” His hips thrust, length slipping between your lower lips, cushioned comfortably between them.

“T-that’s different.” you try to argue, but his throbbing manhood against you makes it hard. “Thi-this is my family… who I haven't seen in a long time. I can’t h-have them thinking badly of me.”

He’s quiet but for a minute before wrapping a hand around your mouth. “Then you better keep quiet,” is the quick warning he hisses in your ear as he pushes his length into you.

His hand traps the sound of your yelp. Your walls stretch deliciously but sting at his abrupt intrusion as he buries himself completely. He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust, placing gentle kisses over your shoulder. His hand massages circles into your hip.

Unable to verbally notify him it was okay to move, you opt for using your hips as you push back against him. Getting the hint, his hips pull back slowly before pushing back in at the same agonizingly passive pace. Lips still pressing kisses to your soft skin, hips lazily snapping into you .

You whine, wanting more.

“Needy already,” he chuckles and places one last kiss to your flesh before standing to his full height. Both hands now resting on your hips, pulling you back so he can grind himself inside your spongy walls. “Remember, not a sound. Your family is out there.”

What a jackass, you can’t help but think as you glare back at him, that damn cocky smile on his lips. You open your mouth to retort but it quickly snaps shut as he pulls back and snaps back in. The action was so hard, you almost thought he’d speared straight into your stomach.

He slides out slowly again before plunging roughly back in. Filling you so completely, each hard impale burning pleasurably. Hands sliding to push your cheeks apart, he watches himself disappear between your folds as he sets a steady pace.

The sound of your sex gushing with each probe of his shaft makes you grow wetter. Slick running down the inside of your thighs, as he pushes it out of you, clit pulsing with each invasion.

It isn’t long before he angles his hips, in search of that spot he enjoys so much. It’s with one particular push that he finds it, as you lifted onto your toes and arched your back signaling him. A whine trapped behind teeth that bite down hard on your lips as he hits it again is all the confirmation he needs.

He sets about burrowing into you, head meeting that patch of spongy tissue over and over;building an inferno in the pit of your stomach with each visit. Your legs begin to tremble as you part your lips.

“H-harder, please,” you quietly moan, almost breathless, trying to keep your volume down.

“Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” His thrusts turn piercing. Hips smacking into yours hard, hands gripping you bruisingly hard. Over the smacks of your hips that filled the room, you can hear him groan softly with each shove. It made you clench around him, causing his hips to stutter briefly before returning to their bruising pace.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. You're soaking my thighs baby,” he groans out, smacking into you harder. “Squeezing me so tight, begging me to fuck you harder.”

A smack to your behind pulls a yelp from you. Panicking, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, hoping no one heard that. Worry niggling at you again before it’s promptly fucked right out of you by Jin's hips speeding up their brutal pace.

“I wish I could hear you baby,” he rasps, sounding just as breathless as you are. “I want to hear you moan for me… begging to cum… I want to hear you scream my name.”

You feel the bed dip beside you, as he places a foot down. Elevating his leg, he creates a new angle to spear your core. Hands finding purchase above your hips, he anchors his hold, hips pulled back.

“Remember… we don't want to get found out.”

With those words he pushes into you quickly and roughly. Each thrust drags you to and fro on the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against the material. His hips unrelenting in their assault of you. Pistoning deep, making sure to brush your g-spot with each insertion.

His actions have you crying into the comforter, as it catches and cushions your cries, groans and mantras of his name. Hands clenching the material so tight, your fingers were going numb. You wanted to fuck back into him, but his tight grip on you and his brutal pace allowed no room to.

“Fuck your so good to me. Your pussy is so perfect. So tight and warm. And it's. Only. Mine.” Accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. Laying his full claim to your core.

Fingers wrapping in your tangled strands, he guides you to stand, back leaning against his chest as the other hand grips your throat, fingers pressing down on your pressure points. The pressure fueling the fire of your impending orgasm, as the new angle only adds fuel to the already roaring wildfire.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he growls into your ear.

You hardly breath, nevermind gracing him with an answer. But as he adds pressure to your throat, you gasp out, “You.”

“That’s right,” he moans, self-satisfied, slowing his pace to grind into you slow and deep. “Mine. Only mine to ruin. Only mine to paint with my cum.”

His words hit you hard, as you clench hard around him, groaning in sync with him as waves pulse through you. You were so close, you knew he could tell as the fingers previously tangled in your hair, now pressed circles into the bundle of nerves buried in your folds.

You throw your head back, gasps of air leaving your parted lips. Your nails dig into the sweaty flesh of his thighs, hips bucking back into his. You try your hardest to not be too loud, as your face twists into nothing but pure pleasure.

You were so close, so close you were quietly pleading Jin to cum. His name becomes a prayer on your lips, that fuels his own need. The sound of his name desperately falling from your lips makes him almost feral in the way he fucks you. Plunging into you so hard and fast, that the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard through the room, the sound accompanied by the filthy sounds of your dripping arousal.

A guttural moan leaves your lips, as he pinches your bud, which he promptly cuts off by slotting his mouth over yours. Kissing you greedly, wanting to swallow every wanton sound.

The next moment, a fire spreads through your veins, as your whole body seizes at the arrival of your orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure, swallowed as promised by Jin's mouth as he kisses you sloppily. Your hips buck into his digits as they continue to stimulate your nub.

Jin’s hips continue to push through your ever tightening walls and begin to stutter in their assault, just before he pushes deep inside as you feel him paint your walls. Now it’s your turn to ingest all the sounds of his orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens, making you light headed with pleasure, as his other hand over stimulates your nub, thighs tightening to stop him.

Milking himself dry, he soon slows down and comes to a complete stop. Pulling your lips apart, a string of saliva keeps your bruised lips connected. The grip around your hips sustains your standing position, as your legs feel weak post orgasm.

Jin’s ever softening length, slips out of you making you both shiver. Gentle as he could be, he guides you to take a seat on the bed.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you at all?” He looks you over, checking for any bruises from his manhandling.

This is what made him such an amazing lover. How caring he is about his partner after making love to them. It was always so fascinating to see him turn from domineering to self-effacing. Always taking care to ask how you felt after, soothing any places he may have gone too far and holding you gently in his arms.

It simply warms your heart, as you smile up at his broad shouldered form standing before you. Placing a hand over the one he’d placed on your cheek and giving it a reassuring squeeze, you say, “I’m fine, Jin. I always am when I'm with you,”

He beams down at you just before he places a kiss lovingly on your forehead. Thumb caressing your cheek, resting his forehead against yours. A warmth radiating from his eyes as he traps you in his gaze.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the words said so simply, stomach a buzz with a storm of bees. You would never tire of hearing him say them to you, always feeling like the first time he’d confessed the depth of his feelings.

“I love you more,” you return, biting your lip giddily.

A smile reaches his eyes, as he grins widely. His cheeks puff up, giving him the look of an adorable squirrel storing acorns. His lips press to yours, no movement necessary. Just a simple press, feeling more intimate than what you had previously been engaged in.

He pulls back with a questioning look in his eyes, when he feels you shiver, almost spilling from his lips before you speak.

“Sorry, um just felt it slipping out of me,” you murmur, embarrassed, eyes not meeting his.

He chuckles, wide shoulders shaking in his mirth. Kissing you again he mutters, “You’re so cute sometimes.”

Slipping an arm around your back and one beneath your knees, he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in confusion. He ignores your inquisitive eyes, making his way to the door he’d left not long before that led to your en suite bathroom.

“I think we should take a shower.”

“You just had a shower.”

“Yes, but after working up a sweat I need another, and together we can help preserve water.”

You roll your eyes, skeptical of him. “Sure, but no funny business!”

“No promises.”

You disappear into the bathroom with you protesting and Jin laughing.

You had been back home for a couple of days, and it had been enjoyable to say the least. Getting settled in, introducing Jin to more of your family that stopped by when they heard about your return, catching up with the extended family, and even some of your friends who still lived in town.

Jin seemed happy to be able to relax, your family welcoming him completely. He had admitted to you how much he appreciated being welcomed with open arms. He loved how large your family was, and the affection they shared so easily, compared to his small family of just his parents and himself.

You knew he also loved that they ate up his terrible jokes like hotcakes. Not to mention how your mother seemed to love cooking him meals, always blushing when he praised the meals and asking for seconds. It was also obvious how much your family stroked his ego when they complimented his looks. You knew this would be bad once the time came for you to go back to your shared home, ego so inflated you weren’t sure you’d be able to fit in the car with him. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t content at how things had turned out.

You had only gone out once since arriving, taking a stroll through the new town center, hands held in his as he listened attentively to you recount tales of your childhood. Every so often you’d stop and point out a location, describing what once took up residence in the spot of a newly erected business or apartment complex. You had stayed out till the sun had begun to make its descent, ice creams in hand as you walked back to your home.

It was that same evening upon returning home to have dinner with your family—filling your family in on your adventures—that your mother informed you about the state of your favorite place growing up. Feeling your heart drop, as she described it in more detail. When you had made your way to your room afterwards, Jin had stopped you and asked you if you wanted to visit the location. After hearing your mother’s disheartening news you weren’t sure, but Jin simply encouraged you to go see it with your own eyes.

That’s how you now found yourself tripping over a root as you trekked through the small forest not far from your parent’s home. A large hand steadying you before you eat dirt, you murmur a thank you before continuing on your way. It’s not long before you reach a clearing, that only cements your mother’s words as true. Your sad eyes survey the once beautiful lake, now nothing but a public garbage disposal. The water was murky, filled with so much debris and garbage it looked like sludge. The land surrounding the water was no better. The once pristine swimming hole was now a small landfill.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you feel Jin give you a comforting squeeze. You rest your hand over his, intertwining your fingers, you sigh defeatedly, turning to bury your face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he kisses the crown of your head and lays his cheek on it. The two of you bathe in the silence, all signs of forest life now muted in the wake of the destruction of their home. You doubted anyone even still lived here, the land so completely uninhabitable.

“This place used to be so beautiful,” you muse dejectedly, laying your cheek over his heart. “So full of life…”

Jin glides his fingers through your hair, listening closely.

“As a kid, I used to think this was the secret home of a fairy kingdom. Where a kind prince ruled over his subjects with a gentle fist. Adding color, and brilliance to nature here. At least, that’s the story my mother would tell,” you regale him, hands clutching his thin shirt.

“When she would bring my siblings and I here, and the water shimmered so beautifully, she’d say it was the fairy prince welcoming us to play in his kingdom. And when we’d visit in the evening once the sun had dipped down, balls of blinking lights dancing through the cool air, she’d say they were the fairies dancing in glee at our visit.”

You could feel tears form behind your lash line, tilting your head up as to not let them fall. You feel childish speaking of fairy tales to your fiancé, growing upset to the point you’re about to cry over it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. This place was such a large part of your childhood, and if you were honest with yourself, it was the place you had been most anxious to visit. To see it destroyed to this degree broke your heart.

Sensing the dive in your emotions, Jin pulls back, taking your face in his hands, eyes roaming over your face in sympathy. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Maybe we can do something.”

You tilt your head, wondering what he could mean. Blinking up at him, wet lashes sticking together. “What do you mean?”

Placidly smiling down at you, his thumb wipes away the stray tears beneath your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could try to clean up. Try to restore it to its former glory,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping the clearing.

You stupidly blink at him, mouth slightly ajar. Your heart begins to swell with so much affection that it feels as if it could pop out of your chest. The waterworks come back full force, lips trembling with emotion.

Noticing your silence he glances back to you, eyes widening with panic, hands hovering in front of him in uncertainty. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Shaking your head, you throw your arms around him. Burrowing your face into his neck, standing on your tiptoes. “I love you so much,” you tearfully declare.

He returns your hold, lifting you up, an affectionate smile pulling at his plump lips. “What’s all this for, you big softie?” he teasingly murmurs.

“I just… I just feel so lucky to be with you.” You can’t help the emotions pouring out of you, unable to keep them inside when it comes to him. You weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve him, but you swore to whatever entity was out there that you would prove yourself worthy of him. For all the days you were gifted with being by his side, you would be the best partner possible.

“Well you are pretty blessed to look upon this handsome face every day.”

You smack his arm, body shaking with restrained laughter. “You’re incorrigible!” you exclaim, barely containing the joy glowing on your face.

Windshield wiper screeches fill the air, as he backs away from you rubbing at the spot you’d hit. His laugh was something uniquely him that always called attention. No matter whether you found it odd, or not, it always made you join him. It was a trait you found completely endearing.

Your laughs begin to quiet, a few residual chuckles escaping you. You look at each other, affection and mirth mirroring one another.

“Did you really mean it?”

He hums questioningly, raising his brows.

“About trying to clean up here?”

“Of course, I do,” he nods. “We’ve still got a few more days left here. We can go buy industrial trash bags, maybe some equipment to help us pick up the garbage, and we’ll definitely need some protection,” he continues to list off.

A smile growing on your own lips, you hug his arm, squirming against him excitedly. “Okay! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah?” he questions, amused at your behavior. You nod enthusiastically and chuckle, beginning to walk off. “Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present right?”

You agree, a pep to your step excitedly discussing the possibility of hopefully saving a part of your childhood.

“It’s so hot!” you whine, stretching your aching back as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You roll your neck, trying to loosen your tense muscles from being hunched over with the trash pick-up stick.

Since your first visit to the Fae Kingdom, which you had taken to calling it affectionately, you had spent the last few days clearing the area around the body of sludge. It was hard labor and the two of you always arrived home sorely exhausted, passing out as soon as your bodies hit the bed. On a couple of occasions, your siblings joined you carrying some of the workload.

Thanks to their help and the determination to see things through, you were actually able to now see the floor of the hidden glade. There wasn’t much trash left, so you were currently taking care of what was left while Jin was using a pool skimmer to collect the junk in the lake.

It was a particularly sunny, and humid day. The air felt incredibly thick with moisture, making it a bit harder to breathe. Not to mention how you were sweating buckets. You had both shed some layers, hating how uncomfortable it felt to have the fabric sticking to your skin.

After complaining about the heat, you toss your stick on the ground, making your way over to a small blanket you laid out to take breaks. Lowering onto your knees, you grab a bottle of water and take a generous gulp. The cool liquid soothes your rising body temperature. Capping the bottle, you roll it on your forehead, trying to cool yourself down.

Rolling back on your knees, you land with a soft thud on your behind, enjoying the shade the tall trees provided. Taking a deep breath, you release it slowly before choking on it. Coughing violently, as your eyes almost bug out of your head.

Standing about ten feet in front of you, by the edge of the water was a broad shouldered god. Muscles flexing beneath lightly sun kissed skin, beads of sweat rolling down his back, burly arms bulging with each bend as he lifts the skimmer out of the water.

How in the hell was this herculean man real?

You sigh in awe, before looking up, hands clasped together as you whisper a thank you up above.

“What are you doing?”

You jump as his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. Your eyes hastily fall on him as you reply in a high pitch, “Nothing!” Your cheeks begin to warm, staining with embarrassment.

His brows pinch, not fully believing you. Shaking his head, he turns to shake the skimmer into a large black bag. Setting it to the side, he swipes sweat off his brow. He turns and makes his way to you, pulling the work gloves off his large hands, stuffing them in the back pocket of his dark jeans. Coming to a stop at the edge of the blanket, he crouches down reaching his hand out for a drink.

Leaning back, you pull a cool bottle out of the cooler and hand it to him. You watch as he takes a large swig, before swiftly emptying the rest over his head. Brushing his hair back, his dark eyes rest on you. One corner of his plush lips pulls up at the unhidden admiration on your face.

“Come here.” He crooks a finger, signalling you closer.

You blink, lifting up and shuffling on your knees over to him. His hand locks behind your neck pulling you in to steal a kiss, lips brushing yours affectionately. One of your hands finds purchase on a burly shoulder to steady yourself. He pulls back, placing a succession of quick pecks over your pouting lips, pulling giggles out of you.

“I’m sorry. I suddenly realized I hadn't kissed the most beautiful woman today. It had to be quickly amended.”

A large grin breaks over your face at his cheesy words.

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Kim.”

His eyes flash, tongue swiping over his thick lower lip. “Am I? Does that mean I can charm you out of these?” he teases, fingers tugging at your shorts.

You swallow hard, painfully aware of the warm thrum between your thighs. Biting your lip, a protest on the tip of your tongue threatens to expose the unabashed yearning of your heat.

Before you can utter a word, his lips are yours again. The hand behind your neck pulls you closer as he leans over you. A hand on your waist guides you to lie on the blanketed ground, his knee nudging your legs apart to settle between them comfortably. He kisses you languishly, hand releasing your soft strands and sliding to your cheek as he rests his weight on the arm placed by your head. Hips grinding in lazy circles against your mound, drawing a quiet moan.

Suffice to say all thoughts of the heat are replaced by a different kind of heat as your hands slide up the plane of muscles you had been admiring not long ago. You feel every flex of his back as his hips continue their languorous movements. You bend your knees, widening the space for him invitingly.

It’s as his hand descends to take hold of your left breast that you hear something in the distance. You ignore it thinking maybe it was a rustling branch or bush. Giving your breast a squeeze, Jin spreads even more heat to your core, and just as you’re about to groan your breath hitches as the sounds are closer this time.

“Jin! Sis! Are you guys here?”

Your eyes bug open, staring into Jin's equally stunned gaze before you both spring apart. A tangle of limbs, wrestling to separate from each other. It’s when you’re finally sitting in your own personal spaces that you notice a hitch in your situation. Jin’s erection was pitching a lovely tent in his semi loose jeans. His hands covered it, a pained look on his face as he cursed. Hearing the crunch of leaves close by springs you into action just as your siblings walk out of the tree line.

“Oh there you guys are,” the oldest declares, pointing you out to the others.

You smile over at them innocently from your position between Jin's legs, back resting against his naked chest, his arms resting around your waist. You both wave at them, thanking powers at be for the humidity today helping to disguise your flushed skin.

“Oh, hey! We didn’t know you guys were coming by today.” Jin greets nonchalantly, raising an arm to wave at them.

“Well,” the youngest speaks up this time, hand rubbing the back of their neck, ”we weren’t going to but when we realized what the weather was like out, we couldn’t let you guys deal with it all alone.”

You can’t help but smile at them in appreciation. “Thank you guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“This is our waterhole, we have to help too,” your middle sibling declares, pounding a fist into their chest dramatically.

You roll your eyes as they grin at you.

“Well let’s get to it, fam!” cheers the youngest.

“We’ll join you in a moment, just taking a short break,” you inform them.

“No worries, take your time. This heat is no joke.” They wave you off as they set up their equipment and bags.

You realise a sigh, reiterating your thanks as they go about cleaning. You watch them a moment before twisting your head to the side. “You wanna get a hold on yourself now?” you hiss over your shoulder. Jin’s prominent erection poking at your back, showing no signs of deflating any time soon.

He wraps his arms around you pulling closer. “I can’t help it, not when that perfect ass keeps pushing back on me.” he whispers into your ear. “And did you know your shoulders turn me on too? They’re so perfect for grabbing onto when I fuck into you from be-”

A yelp of pain gets your sibling’s attention, heads swiveling to look over you guys. Jin folded over, hand clutching at his right side where you’d elbowed him.

“He’s got a stitch in his side from cleaning out the lake. Sorry to scare you guys,” you give as an explanation, waving off their concerned gazes. Feeling bad, your oldest sibling decides to take over lake duty, telling you guys to take your time resting.

You nod gratefully, before turning your attention back to the frustratingly handsome man behind you. “Get a hold of yourself! Or you won’t be touching me for the next week!”

He looks at you in indignation, sputtering to find a response. “You can’t do that! We leave in a few days! We can finally go back to loud unfiltered sex!”

You twist around and smack a hand over his mouth. “I’m not kidding! Get it together, my siblings are here,” your eyes blazing with intent.

He removes your hand as he clears his throat. A playful glint in his eyes before he opens his obnoxious mouth. “You know you’re hot when you’re angry?” he manages before breaking out into his signature high pitched laugh.

Face flushing in annoyance, you smack his bare arm. “Fine! Good luck hiding it on your own!” you fume, leaning forward to push yourself up.

You don’t get far, as he cages you quickly with his arms, pulling you back against him, a panicked no permeating the humid air. You huff, as you feel the wind almost knock out of you at the force he uses to pull you back into place.

“Well are you gonna behave?” an unsaid ultimatum weaved into the question.

“Ah! It’s not my fault you’re so attractive! How can you blame me like this!” he continues to whine, like a petulant child not allowed to play with their favorite toy.

The pair of you continue to bicker, as your siblings slave away in restoring the clearing. It’s not long before they grow hot, exhausted by the muggy air engulfing them. Their patience and kindness waning, complaints for you both to hurry and join them—which you promptly do, with bottles of water in hand to help them cool down. Your small group makes quick work of the left over trash, as Jin takes care of what’s left in the lake.

The sun was just beginning it’s descent, stars just barely dotting across the darkening sky, when your small rag tag group finally finished; spent bodies leaning on each other, as weary eyes surveyed your hard work. It wasn’t what it once was, but it looked damn well on its way there and you couldn’t help the happy tears that brimmed your waterline. The arm around your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze, Jin's voice filling the air thanking everyone for their hard work.

The evening chill that cools your sweat soaked layers has the small group shivering. Giving the place one last sweep, you all agree to high tail it back for much needed showers and rest.

Tomorrow would be your last full day there and you wanted to make sure of one last thing. You would be trying to find a way to purify the lake water. You had been doing research and had read about techniques aiming to bring a lake back to or closer to man-made undisturbed conditions. You had found a lake restoration company not far outside of the town. Jin had already agreed to accompany you, willing to help in any way possible as you brought it up before going to bed that night. You had happily accepted, beholden by the revival of the Fae Kingdom.

The night was comfortably warm, filled with happy chatter in the beautiful glade. Fairy lights lit the area in a soft glow as many visitors sat around the lake, eating meals they had just pulled off grills or brought with them from home. Small clusters of families or couples relaxed after a day of fun and thrills.

Somewhere someone had brought a speaker, a soft pop melody permeating the air, as you quietly sing along to it, swaying in your fiance’s arms, his own angelic voice serenading you. Your family surrounded you, their loud boisterous laughs bringing you joy and comfort.

It had been a year since your visit, a year of the lake restoration working its magic. A year of love and care for the watering hole, which was almost a mirror of its former glory. Beautiful shades of green once more filling in patches of the ground, all the colors of the rainbow blooming, giving the space vibrance and life. There were signs of life all around you as creatures began to inhabit the area once more.

But the most amazing part is being able to witness the breathtaking globes of light that dance before your eyes. Soft, blinking lights that waltz around, unbothered by the visitors. The fairies had returned, they had come back home to their kingdom.

“They’re happy.”

“Huh,” you ask dumbly, breaking out of your reverie.

“The fairies, they’re happy to see you,” he voices.

A tender smile rests on his lips when you turn to him. He remembered. The childish story you had told him. And it’s in that moment, with blinking lights reflecting around him that you come to a realization.

“You’re the fairy prince. Well, you’re my real fairy prince,” you admit quietly.

He looks down at you, eyes searching yours before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling your back flush against him.

“I guess that makes you the future princess of the Fae Kingdom.”

You cling to his arms happily, taking in the gorgeous scenery before you.

“Besides, it only makes sense that someone as good looking as me is royalty.”

“And there goes the moment,” you grumble as you leave the safe space of his arms to join your family in their merriment.

“Hey! You know it’s true!” he exclaims, chasing after you, accompanied by a squeaking laugh.

#btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #purplearmynet #bts x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts jin x reader #ksj #kim seokjin #bccsg

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justanotherblonde23 · 3 years

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I Want You - A Din Djarin Story

Author’s Note: Hey there, internet friends. So I had an ask from my friend @hdlynnslibrary that I can’ find to save my life. Luckily, I wrote it down! “Hi Kat! My darling! I must admit to feeling #horny okay? Soooo what about a prompt for my fav space man Din? Like maybe with an #inexperienced reader?” Oh Heather, my love, ask and you shall receive! What started out as a little somethin became 14 pages, double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman font. So my darling, I hope you enjoy this Din x reader fic, it was made with LOTS of love <3

Warnings: SMUT, there is definately sexy times going on over here, all aboard the horny train, leaving the station as we speak. Choo-fuckin-choo! Also, language because I am me and since I was born and raised in Boston and I have been swearing like a goddamn sailor since, well, ever lol. Oh, and there’s a slight breeding kink, just an FYI. I’m sorry, it just all came out and I couldn’t help it and Din Djarin wants his clan to expand, okay?

Thank you to all who read, like, comment, reblog, etc. It warms my heart that you all are enjoying my work. Please let me know what you think of this one :-)

You had been traveling with Din on the Razor Crest for the past year or so. He found you on Arvala-7, working alongside Kuiil. You were good with your hands, fast with a blaster, and most importantly, you connected with the Child. From the second that kid saw you, he decided that you were his. He was the largest reason that you were here right now. How anyone could resist those big eyes, his floppy ears, and that cute baby smile. He turned your heart to putty.

Your days were spent mostly on the Crest, keeping an eye on the little one and tending to the ship the best you could. The baby required a fair bit of effort, but you didn’t mind; he had become like your own child without you even realizing it.

Somewhere along the way, you had become closer with the Mandalorian that you traveled with. Clipped sentences became more extended conversations as you gently urged him out of his shell. Soon, he became curious about you, asking all sorts of unimportant questions, ranging from where you grew up to what your favorite color was. Dinners alone with the kid turned into Mando joining you, lifting his helmet ever so slightly so that he could take a sip of the broth you made or a bite of the ration pack you heated up. Every time he did this, you made sure to keep your eyes on your plate, never wanting to disrespect his Creed in any way.

As the months progressed, your feelings for one stoic Mandalorian grew. You caught yourself lingering in the cockpit more when after you put the little one down at night. You also caught yourself staring on more than one occasion, and you knew for a fact that Mando saw you, too. How could you not stare at that imposing figure that you shared a home with? The duality of the man was awe-inspiring, to be sure. He was a fearsome warrior, and you had witnessed his prowess first hand many a time. He brought bounties in nonstop, always jetting off to the next one before the last quarry had been frozen away in carbonite for a day. And then there was the gentleness that he had with the baby. You could tell that this was his first time taking care of another person by himself. Sometimes he was a bit rough around the edges, but he did try his best. He was learning how to be the best parent he could for the kid, and watching that play out warmed your heart.

Often times, when he took the kid up to the cockpit so that you could use the refresher and wash the day away, you could hear him up there talking to the kid gently. Sometimes he speaks in Basic; other times, he speaks in what you assume is Mando’a. Every once in a while, you hear him sing the baby a lullaby on those restless nights where nothing seems to calm that sweet baby down. The first time you heard him sing softly to the kid, you knew that you loved him.

You never felt right acting on your feelings; you didn’t know how he thought about you. Also, you were terrified of making a fool of yourself. Truth be told, you have never been in a man’s bed before. The life of a refugee of the Empire didn’t leave much time for amorous encounters. By the time you found Kuiil, all you wanted was to keep your head down and do your work. If you happened to meet someone along the way, fantastic, but you had more pressing matters to attend to, like surviving in the desert.

That all changed one night when you least expected it. Mando had taken the kid to soothe him and put him to sleep, so you took the opportunity to use the fresher. You had been working hard that day, repairing areas of the Crest that needed maintenance while juggling an inquisitive little one. You took your time, relishing the way that the water felt against your bare skin, the warmth seeping into your muscles and soothing your bones. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but you viewed water as a gift from the Maker itself. For the first time in your life, you didn’t have to scrounge and save every last drop. You’d never had the luxury of using actual water the bathe daily; you’d never been in the financial position to have such a thing. For the Galaxy working class, a sonic was the best you could hope for most of the time. It cleansed the body of dirt and grime just fine, but it wasn’t pleasant like water was.

In all honesty, your idea of a luxuriously long shower was well under ten minutes, but it was a dream come true for you. After you were clean and smelling of the fresh soap that you used, it was time for you to get out. You grabbed the small towel, drying your body, and then reached for your clothes. Your hands floundered around a bit until you realized that you had inadvertently forgotten to bring a new pair of clothes or your sleep shirt in with you. You had been in too much of a rush to hand off the baby and get just a few moments to yourself.

You groaned at your flightiness. Kriff, that only left you with two options: you could either put your dirty clothes back on, or you could try to make your way back to your sleeping quarters wrapped in this tiny ass towel. Neither option particularly appealed to you, but your desire for cleanliness finally won out.

You gathered up your belongings and quietly opened the refresher door, careful not to be too loud. It usually took a bit of time to calm the baby down enough for him to go to sleep, and you didn’t want to interrupt that process. The lights in the hold were dimmed, leaving you with the ability only to see a few steps in front of you.

Unfortunately, your quest to be stealthy was in vain. You had forgotten that you had moved a particular toolbox during your work project this morning. Said toolbox ended up being placed right where you could smack your little toe on it. You yelped in pain, dropping everything in your arms in favor of hopping up and down on one foot and clutching the other in your hands. This caused the towel to also fall to the ground, leaving you bare. A noise drew your attention up, and your eyes met a helmet, staring right back. Mando was standing right in front of you, apparently drawn by the noise.

You dropped your foot, standing up straight, eyes wide in shock. You didn’t move; you barely breathed. Your mind was short-circuiting, and you didn’t even have the sense to pick up your towel off the ground. Your body was overflowing with embarrassment, horror, and- was that arousal? Stars, you were standing here, completely bare, across from the Mandalorian who has every inch of himself covered.

Ever so slowly, he reached down and grabbed the towel you had dropped, carefully wrapping it back around you. His hand accidentally brushed your breast, causing you to suck in a breath of surprise. He murmured his apologies, beginning to withdraw his hands, but you were faster. You reached out, stilling his retreating hands and placing them back on your body. You wanted this, you wanted him, and you wanted to make sure that he knew it.

He tilted his helmet curiously, waiting for you to give him a prompt. He took in your labored breathing, your increased heart rate, the way you bit your lip. Your eyes met his visor, and he could barely even see your eye color because your pupils were so blown with lust and desire. He groaned a deep, low sound in his chest at your obvious reaction to his presence.

“What do you want, sweet girl?” he ground out, trying to keep himself in check.

You moved your hands, gently cradling his helmet where his cheeks would be, breathing in his scent swirling so close to you. You could smell the blaster residue, the leather, the metal of his beskar, the soap you both used in the shower, and that smell that was uniquely his. You’d never get tired of it, not in this life or the next.

“I want you,” was your reply. “Touch me, Mando, please.”

“Din,” came his reply, almost in a whisper, as if it was something sacred.

You frowned, your nose scrunched up in confusion. You studied this helmet, eyes searching for answers.

“My name, it’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, eyes wide with confusion. You knew the sacredness of a name in this Galaxy. Stars, you hadn’t even told him your own name for a solid three months. The only reason he had found out was because he overheard you talking to the kid one day. A name was even more sacred to a Mandalorian. It was precious, something to be guarded with the utmost care. You’d never even wagered that he’d give it to you, ever.

“You can use it, but with just me and the kid around. No one else gets to know it, no one but you.”

You nodded, understanding just how much it had taken for him to tell you. His name was a gift, something that you would keep close and cherish.

“Din,” you spoke the Mandalorian’s name for the first time, testing it on your tongue, relishing the taste of it in your mouth. It was a good name, a solid name, a name fitting for the warrior before you. “Din Djarin, a beautiful name.”

Hearing his name in your mouth set Din’s soul on fire. The way you spoke it, the way you had considered it and acknowledged the importance of what he had just given you, it made him want to hear it again and again. He wanted to listen to you moan his name in ecstasy, begging him for more, begging him for pleasure. He wanted to hear you yell it, mutter it, say it in everyday conversation. He wanted to hear his name drip from your lips for the rest of his life.

That night was the first time he took you and gave you pleasure. You had come on his tongue and fingers three times before you were strung out and exhausted. You fell asleep in his bunk wrapped tightly in his arms. That was two months ago.

You still had yet to take him fully, to allow him to be inside of you. You had admitted that you were nervous, that you had no experience to work off of. Din had been nothing but patient and kind, never pressuring you into anything that you weren’t comfortable with. He had told you that, “We have all the time in the world, sweet girl. There’s no need to rush.” You believed him wholeheartedly, but in the past weeks, you had found yourself wanting more. Sure, you were still frightened, you didn’t know what you were doing, but that burn and ache inside of you kept getting more intense as the days went by. You know that Din would take care of you.

It’s been a rough day, and that’s an understatement. You helped with the bounty this time because the information you were given indicated that this quarry was heavily guarded. Mando couldn’t say no to an extra blaster covering his ass. Thankfully, this mission was on Tatooine, meaning that you could leave the little one with Peli. Maker knows that woman loves your little green bean; how could she not? Green bean loves her right back and seems to be particularly fond of the pit droids. You think it has something to do with the fact that he can bonk their noses to make them spring to life, but you can’t be sure.

Unfortunately, it turns out that this asshole was much more protected than you had been led to believe. You would have some choice words for Greef Karga to pass along to whoever had commissioned this kriffing bounty. You both had more or less emerged unscathed, but there would most certainly be bruises covering you two from head to toe.

Once the bounty was frozen away in carbonite, you could breathe a little better. He wouldn’t be giving you any trouble now. When Peli saw that state you were in, she insisted that she keep the little one for the night, which was a relief. As much as you loved that sweet little boy, you needed a breather. Hopefully, you’d be able to spend some much needed time with just you and your Mandalorian.

You found yourself on Din’s lap with a blindfold covering your eyes so he could kiss you. You would rather not see anything at all and have his lips on yours than have your sight with his helmet on. You both were in your underclothes, your legs straddling him.

That’s when the kisses began. There was something about kissing Din Djarin that was otherworldly. The way he poured all his love and care into a kiss never ceases to blow you away. He always started so gently, building you up and setting you on fire. How could anything be that good, that pleasurable? He licked into your mouth, moaning at your taste. Your Mandalorian loved to kiss you. He nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp, pleasure shooting straight down to your core.

He moved his kisses to your jaw and down the column of your neck, leaving bruising in his wake. Din whispered in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how good you tasted, how you were just for him. The thought that you were his, that this fearsome warrior had opened himself up enough to let you in, it urged you forward.

You began to rock back and forth on his thigh, chasing that feeling of bliss. He stopped you for a moment, helping you wiggle out of your panties, before urging you to start once more. This felt even better, your slick dripping out onto his thigh, helping you create beautiful friction. By the sounds he was making, Din was enjoying it, too. The feeling of his muscles hard beneath you, your clit rubbing deliciously against him, was heavenly. You could feel the sparks in your tummy, the clench of your cunt around nothing; you were so close.

Din urged you on, his hands at your hips, moving you. He muttered about how gorgeous you were as you took your pleasure on his thigh, how he wanted to see you cum on him, how he wanted to taste your sweet pussy after you came. His words were what finally did you in, the dam bursting and your orgasm hitting you full force. Your hips began to stutter, but your Mandalorian kept you moving, riding the waves of pleasure, extending your bliss. Finally, your whines led him to stop; you were far too sensitive to continue. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

As you sat there, your head on Din’s shoulder, centering yourself once more, you realized what exactly was pressing against your thigh. You could feel his rock hard, dripping cock, just within reach. The thought of it made your pussy clench and your mouth water. You wanted Din Djarin, all of him, in every way possible. You wanted to feel him inside of you, wrecking you and making you see stars.

“Din,” you murmured, “I want you.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing you in. “You have me, Mesh’la, any way you want me.”

You sat up straight on his lap, facing him. If you didn’t have a blindfold on, you’re sure you’d be looking him directly in the eye. “No, I want you. I want you inside of me; I want your cock, Din.”

Your Mandalorian groaned at your admission. There was nothing he wanted more. He took in the earnest expression on your face, looking for any sign of hesitance or anxiety. He never wanted you to feel pressured into doing anything that you didn’t want to do. He didn’t want you to feel as if you needed to do something to please him. He wanted you to explore sex at your own pace, never another’s.

“Cyare, are you sure? There is no rush for us. My satisfaction comes from the fact that I can satisfy you and that you trust me enough to allow me to be the first to touch you in this way. There is no timetable besides your wants, needs, and desires, mesh’la. I don’t want you to pressure yourself.”

You smiled at his words, his voice so soft and sweet for you. He was always so considerate, never rushing you or telling you that you were going too slowly. The kindness and care this great warrior continuously showed you reminded you of this complicated man’s duality. You felt safe with him, and you wanted all of him.

“Din, baby, no, I don’t feel pressured. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now. I want to feel you inside of me; I want you to make love to me, please.”

He cradled your face in his palms for a moment, his thumbs gliding over your cheeks. Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of passion, sinking you deeper into arousal. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that he loved, and maybe he did. Perhaps you and the kid were his whole heart. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, causing you to mewl and moan. He knew just what would get you going.

He pulled away, sucking in precious oxygen as you did the same. Carefully, he turned the both of you around and laid you down on his cot. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the galaxy, not by a long shot. It was designed more for efficiency than comfort. The thing was, though, you didn’t care. It was Din’s, and he was willing to share it with you. You could feel him hovering over you, his breath warm against your face.

“Let me taste you, sweet girl. Let me get you ready to take my cock.”

You gasped, feeling his cock rock back and forth, covering himself in your slick. You were at a loss for words, so many sensations happening all at once. All you could manage was a nod, and a whimpered, “Please, Din.”

Your Mandalorian kissed his way down your body, leaving behind bite marks and bruises where he wanted to cause heightened sensations. Before he even made it to your pussy, you were already painfully wet for him. You could feel his breath ghosting over the place where you wanted him the most. You lifted your hips in an attempt to spur him on, but all it got you was a muscular arm forcing your hips back down to the cot.

“Patience, cyar’ika, I want you to feel every ounce of pleasure that I can wring out of you. Enjoy the moment, feel the suspense, don’t simply rush to the finish line, little one.”

You yelped as you felt him bite into the juncture of your hip and thigh, sucking in hard to leave a mark. He soothed the skin with his tongue, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough. He repeated the process on the other side, marking you in a place only the two of you would ever see, like a secret that you both would share.

Unexpectedly, his tongue licked a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit. You sighed; that was the feeling you so desperately wanted. He lapped at your cunt like a man starved, and you were the best thing on the menu. He knew how to work you into a frenzy, and quickly, he played your body like an instrument that he had been practicing on for a lifetime. You quaked and shook as your second orgasm of the night took hold, bursting and pulling you ever forward into the bliss you so desperately craved.

Even after you had ridden out your orgasm, Din didn’t stop. He worked you over, inserting one finger and then another inside of you, hitting that one spot inside you that made you see stars over and over. His mouth never stopped, his tongue lazily drawing loose circles around your clit, never slowing down, but keeping a steady pace. Your hips fought to lift off the cot, simultaneously fighting and chasing that feeling of ecstasy. When he scissored his fingers inside of you and twisted his wrist just so, you lost it once more. A scream that sounded something like his name tore out of your throat as the stars exploded behind your eyes.

You felt like you were floating in space, freely and without a care in the world. You reached a new height of pleasure that you’d never even imagined before. You could touch the sky and would never ever come down. You thought every encounter with your Mandalorian was pure rapture, but this was beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were panting, gasping for the oxygen your body so desperately needed, and you felt better than you ever had before. As your head left the clouds, you realized you had a dopey smile on your face, and your lover was covering you with kisses everywhere he could reach.

Vaguely, you heard his whispers in the dark. You were so good for me, mesh’la. You looked so beautiful cumming on my fingers and tongue. You taste divine, starshine. Those words went straight to your heart and to your pussy, flooding you with more arousal than you had ever thought possible. A deep kiss on your lips finally brought you back to the present, the warm body on top of you centering your mind.

“Are you ready for my cock, sweet girl? Do you still want to feel me inside of you? I promise I’ll go slow.”

You nodded in response, your words failing you.

“I need to hear you say it, cyare. I need to hear you tell me that you want this, that you’re sure.”

Your head lolled a bit as you processed his words, still feeling slightly hazy.

“Din Djarin, I want you inside of me. Please, please, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”

He chuckled at your pleas, a smile pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll be most delighted to give you what you want, sweet girl. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Are you ready for me?”

You breathed out a yes as you felt him coat himself in your slick, making sure he could ease into you. You knew he was quite large. You had curiously wondered aloud one day if all men were built like that. Even though his size intimidated you, you wanted everything he could give you. The excitement fizzled in your belly; you were getting wetter by the second.

Ever so slowly, your Mandalorian lined himself up with you and began to press in. You gasped at the feeling of just the head of his cock inside of you, the blunt tip spearing into you. He paused before he began to move again. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed himself into you, stopping ever so often to make sure that you had time to adjust to him. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the girls in your hometown had made it seem. Maybe they hadn’t been with the proper lovers, or perhaps the boys they were sleeping with were just inexperienced and too young. All you knew was that there was a pinch of pain, yes, but the pleasure outweighed any discomfort you may have felt.

You could feel every delicious inch of him inside you, splitting you open and filling you up like nothing ever had before. You could feel every ridge and vein as he inched his way into you. You couldn’t even put a name to this feeling, but you wanted more. Eventually, he was fully seated inside of you; your hips flush against his own. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim, and Maker, you loved it. He waited for a minute or two, allowing you to adjust to him and have a chance to take in all these new sensations. You had thought his fingers were terrific, but they were nothing compared to the feel of his cock deep inside of you.

He kissed you. It was all teeth, tongue, and lips, and stars; it was perfect. He devoured your mouth, taking what was his. You couldn’t help the little sounds that sprung up from your throat when he did that. He answered you with guttural groans of his own. You could feel the way those sounds made his chest rumble; you could feel it in your chest pressed against him.

He grabbed your leg, propping it up on his hip, and he began to move. He never went too fast for you or too hard, keeping a steady pace that kept you comfortable but still dragged you forward to a fourth orgasm. You didn’t even know you had it in you until Din used two of his fingers to assault your clit, encouraging that bundle of nerves to give you one more burst of pleasure. The combination of his cock deep inside you and his fingers on your clit was enough to send you toppling over the edge once more. This orgasm was more intense than the others, blazing white-hot through your veins and setting your soul on fire. If you thought you had been screaming before, you were mistaken. You writhed and squirmed under your lover, your pleasure causing your body to shake like a leaf. You sobbed his name over and over, tears spilling out of your eyes from sheer ecstasy.

Your Mandalorian groaned deeply at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him like a vice. You were so tight, to begin with, and your orgasm grabbed him and shoved him into his orgasm. As he emptied himself deep within you, he couldn’t help but mumble praises. “Oh Mesh’la, you’re so tight for me, so beautiful laid bare just for me. You’re such a good girl, a sweet girl, my girl. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. Adventure, new experiences, my love- fuck if you want it, I’ll give you warriors, children of our own.”

You both laid there for a while afterward, basking in the glow of post-sex haze. You carded your fingers through his curls, gently scratching his scalp as he pressed sweet kisses into your skin. He was still inside you; neither of you could bear the thought of being parted just yet. You could stay like this forever, caught in this in-between time, not yet floating back into reality.

“I would like that,” you murmured, never stopping your movements in his hair.

“Like what, cyare?”

“For you to give me warriors of our own, Din.”

You could feel him twitch inside you, clearly interested. His head shot up, studying yours closely, looking for any falsehood or hesitance in your blindfolded face.

“You mean it?” He breathed out.

You grinned, feeling around for his face. You traced his sharp jawline, the proud cure of his nose, the pout of his plump lips. This was the face of the man you loved, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Wherever he was in the Galaxy, that was home.

“Yes, my love, I mean it. We have our little green bean, and eventually, he’s going to need some friends to play with. We wouldn’t want him to be lonely. And besides, there’s no one I’d rather raise warriors with than you.”

You heard a faint sniffle before his lips were on yours once more. You had a family, but there was always room to add more to this clan of three.

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Fred Weasley x Reader- The Worry of Wealth

Hey! As promised, I will be posting my three part Fred story in celebration of reaching 100 followers so quickly! Feedback is always welcome!

"Fred? Fred? Freddie? Hellooo? You're staring again." Fred was snapped out of his thoughts by his twin clicking his fingers in front of his face.

"What?"

"Y/N. You're staring at her again, it's getting a bit creepy if you ask me." George tugged his brother's arm out to the courtyard.

"Yeah well I didn't ask you." Fred quipped back, slumping on the wall. George raised an eyebrow at Fred's tone and nudged him. "It's just so bloody frustrating Georgie. I like her. Like I REALLY like her." He groaned, hitting his head back on the bricks and closing his eyes in annoyance as you walked past him and gave him a small smile.

Y/N L/N- the most gorgeous girl to ever grace the grounds of Hogwarts. You were clever, beautiful and one of the funniest people Fred had ever met- some of your pranks even leaving him in awe. If that all didn't already make it hard enough for Fred to catch your attention you were part of the L/N family. The one family that was even more wealthy than the Malfoys. You could have anybody you wanted. Poor old Fred fell for you hard the moment he was paired with you in second year potions and you kept catapulting random ingredients into everyone else's cauldrons so you and him had the luxury of being the first to finish and escape Snape's words of wrath, all while enjoying the confused looks of the other students who were adament they had followed the recipe step by step. That was 4 years ago. He'd always noticed you before then but never really paid you too much attention, knowing from the get-go you'd never be interested in a Weasley. He opened his eyes and looked down at his clothes. His shoes were his dad's old ones, the soles tearing from the leather and scuffing at the front. His robes were fraying and his jumper sleeves both had holes in after being both Bill's and Charlie's before he got given them and grimaced.

George just looked at his brother and frowned. Y/N was genuinely one of the nicest people he had ever met but he'd be lying if he didn't think his family's financial situation would stop her from seeing Fred in any way more than just a friend rather than embarrassing herself by dating the guy from the poorest family at Hogwarts. Still, he'd always try anything to help his brother get what he wants.

"Come on Freddie, we've got quidditch practice next. That'll take your mind off her for at least a little bit." Fred still sulked and wouldn't move. "Oi." George slapped Fred's arm. "I'll race you. Last one there is a soggy mandrake." And with that George started to run. Fred rolled his eyes and jogged behind him. All of a sudden a huge crash was heard as George tripped and fell straight into the group of you and your friends, sending the books and papers you had stacked in your hands flying through the air and landing on the ground. "Ooopppss." George spoke childishly. "Sorry Y/N, gotta run. I’ve got a race to win." George finished continuing to run to the quidditch grounds after shooting a wink in his brother's direction. Fred immediately went to help you.

"Sorry my brother is such a bloody idiot. If you think this is bad, imagine living with him." He attempted to joke as his piled your discarded papers in his arms. He offered his hand out to you to help you up and felt his face flush as your skin came into contact with his. You just laughed it off and stood.

"It's fine honestly. I have 3 sisters, I'm used to it." You grinned, taking the pile of books and papers from him. He nodded in response and wiped his hands on his trousers, noticing they had become clammy. "Thanks Fred." You smiled, leaning up to kiss his pale cheek, trying to hide your amusement as you watched his face become redder than his hair. Fred zoned back in from his little daydream and opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh do you want a hand? With the books I mean. Not that I'd give you a hand with anything else. Obviously. Unless you wanted me to. Then I-" Your giggling cut him off.

"I'm actually free next period. Do you want to help me carry these back to my dorm? We could hang out for a bit after if you wanted as a thank you?" You asked, feeling your own heart beat a little rapidly for finally asking out the boy you'd been fawning over since you were 14. You watched as his face dropped and panicked. "You don't have to don't worry.."

"NO! Uh I mean.. I'd love to... but I can't. I can help you carry your stuff but there's quidditch practice I've got to go to since we have that big game against Slytherin in a couple days." Fred shouted inwardly at himself. The one bloody time he had an opportunity to be with you for a bit and he couldn't go. Although he was tempted to drop everything then and there for you.

"No worries! How about you sneak me into practice and then we can go grab a butterbeer afterwards?" You tried again, mentally crossing your fingers for luck. Fred nodded, for once in his life being completely speechless. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up and that this was just going to be an innocent drink among friends but he was still excited. He took all of your stuff from your hands, despite you saying you could carry a little bit before thinking through what you had said earlier and turning his head towards you.

"Hey Y/N?" You hummed in response. "How did you know I was Fred anyway? I'm pretty sure no one said our names when George rugby tackled you." You grinned and felt your cheeks warm a little. After having a soft spot for Fred the last four years you could tell the difference between him and his brother in a heartbeat.

"You're my favourite." You answered innocently.

"Right. Yeah okay. Makes sense." Fred swallowed deeply and carried on walking beside you.

In the distance George watched on and grinned to himself.

"Oh George Weasley you genius. 10 points for supreme wingmanery." He grinned to himself, actually making his way to the quidditch pitch now.

Barely 10 minutes had passed before Fred came sauntering out onto the quidditch pitch.

"Oi what took you so bloody long? Do you want us to lose?" Ron shouted at his brother. Fred said nothing and instead turned to face the stalls, giving you a quick wave and kicking up on his broom. "Bloody hell is that Y/N? As in THE Y/N L/N?" Ron's eyes widened as seeing your face in the distance.

"Freddie here is just a boy in love." George teased, making kissing noises as he flew around his twin.

"No way. Sorry Fred but it won't happen." Ron quipped, tightening his grip on his broom. "Have you seen her? She's gorgeous." He trailed off. "Not to mention stinking rich."

"Well rumour has it that Fred is going to Hogsmeade with her after practice for some butterbeer as 'friends'" George grinned.

"How did yo-"

"Eyes and ears everywhere Fred." Before anyone else could say a word Madame Hooch came out to begin training.

Spending 60 minutes ogling Fred Weasley was definitely one of your best choices of time wasting. You hadn't even realised they had finished until Fred came flying over to you, red faced and sweating slightly.

"Could you give me like 10 minutes to get cleaned up then I'll be ready to go if you're still up for it?"

"Of course I'm still up for it. It was my idea after all." You grinned.

"Wicked." He turned to fly back down when you called him back.

"Fancy giving me a lift down there? The stairs are a killer, I'll look like I've played 12 rounds of quidditch by the time I reach the bottom." You joked, slinging your small bag over your shoulder.

"You'd still look gorgeous." Fred muttered; realising quickly he said his thoughts out loud and coughed, hoping you didn't hear. "Uh I mean yeah. If you want. I'm a bit sweaty, mind and my broom's not the best but I reckon it could take your weight too.." He stopped and groaned. "Bollocks that's not what I meant. Obviously it would take your weight, you're perfect.. I mean, not perfect. Nobody's perfect. Not that you're NOT perfe-"

"Fred you're all good." You blushed a little at his words and his nervousness. He nodded and turned around and shuffling forward a little.

"Your chariot awaits Madame."

Fred stiffened as you used his shoulders for balance to climb behind him on the broom. You wrapped your arms around his frame and squeezed a little, both faces burning from the close proximity as you made your journey to the bottom of the pitch near the other players.

"I'll see you in a minute?" Fred asked more than anything, still not quite sure if you were going to go through with going out with him. You nodded and smiled, taking a seat on the bench there as the team walked through to the changing rooms.

"Not even been on a date yet and she's already ridden your broom."

"Bugger off George."

/./././././././././././././././././././././././././

The journey to The Hogshead was silent. Not awkard but equally not NOT awkward. It was unlike either of you to have nothing to say so this was definitely a new experience; you just hoped the conversation would pick up when you sat down with your drinks. Thankfully, it did.

"You know, I'm kind of glad your brother launched me in the courtyard. I've been wanting a good enough excuse to talk to you outside of class for a while." You admitted, awkwardly wiping away the condensation from the side of your butterbeer glass. Fred's cheeks dusted pink a little and he smiled.

"You didn't need an excuse; I'd have said yes anyway. Unless of course you like getting thrown to the ground before every date." OhshitFredsheneversaiditwasadate. "Not that this is a date. Is it? I wouldn't not like it to be. I get if it-"

"I've never heard you stumble over any of your words before. To be fair, I don't think I've heard you finish your own sentence for a while. It's cute." You grinned. "This can be whatever you want it to be." You finished. Fred tested the waters by reaching his hand over the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your knuckle.

"Thank Merlin for that. That could have been bloody awkward." With that interaction dealt with, the two of you spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything, neither of you having laughed so much before. Why hadn't he just manned up and asked you out sooner? You were just so amazing it enchanted Fred; enchanted him enough the past 60 minutes that he forgot he only had enough money for one butterbeer until the waitress came over with the bill; he had just finished his third but now he was sure he was going to throw it all back up. What was he going to do? Fred felt his hands sweat and his cheeks burn.

"Fred? Hey, are you okay?" You asked, placing the money for your drinks on the receipt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Fred croaked, pulling his hand out his pocket to show his few measly coins that he had. Mixed in it was 2 buttons and a piece of gum, none of which Fred was sure would work as accepted currency.

"Don't worry about it, I got it." You smiled, taking out some more money and setting your purse back in your bag. The waitress gave Fred a look and smiled at you before walking away. Fred had never felt so embarrassed- now he remembered why he didn't ask you out before. Then he felt himself doing something he hadn't done in years- his eyes started to water and he had to get out of there.

"Sorry I've uh. I've got to go. Thank you for the drinks." And with that he all but ran out of there, turning multiple corners until he found the side street next to Zonko's that led to a small seating area he could be alone for a while. What was he thinking? Did he honestly think going out with the richest, most popular girl in school was going to work in his favour? Stupid, even for you Freddie. He hung his head in his hands and groaned, so lost in thought that he didn't hear someone walking up to him, only startling when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"Fred?" Oh god, it was you. Let's play a game called 'How Many More Times Can Fred Make Himself Look A Complete Moron'.

"Hey. I should be able to pay you back in a few months after my birthday. Sorry again." He muttered, standing up to get ready to leave again. You tugged him back by his sleeve.

"Don't be silly Fred, you don't have to pay me back at all. You paid me enough just by agreeing to come with me." You smiled, slipping your hand from his sleeve to his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Fred sighed again and gave you a weak smile.

"You could literally have anyone el-"

"What if I don't want anyone else?"

"Then you're weird."

"You're weird too."

"Mean.."

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me." Fred still just stood there dumbfounded so you rolled your eyes and pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms round his neck and kissing him. After the shock settled Fred kissed back, bits of confidence coming back to him as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling your body as close to his as he could. Eventually the need to breathe called and you pulled away, resting your foreheads together.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." You both said at the same time and started to laugh. "Second year potions?" You laughed again and pecked each other's lips once more.

"You know I can't take you out to fancy restaurants and buy you expensive gifts right?" Fred breathed, still trying to recover mentally from what just happened. Christ George wouldn't believe it.

"Fred you could take me to a junkyard bin diving and as long as you called it a date I'd love it because you'd be there."

"You're giving me some good ideas here. Hold on a sec, just need to grab my quill." He laughed, taking a step back from you but reaching for your hand to still keep you close. You slapped his chest with your free hand and laughed. "So it really doesn't bother you? Genuinely? I won't be offended. Although after that kiss I might cry a bit." You smiled as you made your journey back to Hogwarts hand-in-hand.

"Not even a little bit."

././././././././././././././././././././././

"No way. Harry, give me your glasses." Ron slapped his best friend's arm as he watched you and Fred walk through the courtyard holding hands.

"What?"

"Jammy git he is. Look. Fred and Y/N. Holding hands." Ron stated, pointing obviously towards you two. Harry stared too, equally surprised.

"That, Ronald, was the creation of yours truly." George appeared from nowhere. "This morning I ran into Y/N, knowing little lover boy would help her. She asked him out as a thank you. I'm practically Cupid." George beamed, genuinely happy his plan worked for Fred's sake (and for his own bragging rights).

"Bloody hell. We've got divinations next, fancy tripping Hermione down the stairs?"

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed.

"What?"

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley smut #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #fred weasley x you smut #fred weasley x reader smut #Fred Weasley #weasley twins #george weasley

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou fluff #[ris writes]—✧

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maeiso-trash · 3 years

Text

Perfection shatters like glass

Isogai is only perfect because he has to be, not because he wants to be.

A bit of character study(?) and making Isogai cry lol.

Word count: 2,925

Ao3

-----------------------------------------------

The soft glow of the sunlight filtered in through the window, casting a yellow hue inside the living room. Books lay scattered on the table, disorderly stacked. Maehara sat on one end of the couch, observing Isogai, who was positioned at the opposite end, head buried in a book. He observed how delicately Isogai handled the pages, admired how focused he was, golden eyes fixated on the story in front of him. His expressions constantly changed as he read, and Maehara could only assume he was mirroring the character’s emotions. How cute. Makes him want to call Isogai something equally adorable.

"Hey, can I call you darling?” Maehara asked, his head in the clouds, a dumb grin on his face.

"I dunno, try it out," Isogai replied, not bothering to look up from his book. He felt the couch sink next to him as Maehara sat beside him.

"Okay, darling." Maehara's gaze softened, and he felt his heart melt at the taste of the nickname on his tongue. It made him feel old-fashioned, absolutely smitten with his best friend. He stares at Isogai, taking in how his eyes dart up from the book to Maehara, only just processing his words. Maehara chuckles to himself at how cute Isogai's reaction is, albeit delayed. He's way too stupidly in love with his best friend. But he doesn't mind. He admires how the light pouring in from the window makes Isogai's eyes shine. How the curve of his lips tugged up just a little. How his eyes gaze back at him, a little surprised. How his antenna sprung up with his emotions before quickly returning to normal.

Isogai felt his heart skip a beat, and butterflies in his stomach. Blush starts to blend into his cheeks, though it's faint. He can't help but smile, giggling a little inside. He rolls his eyes affectionately, used to Maehara's flirts and sweet nothings. Why he puts up with Maehara, he doesn't know. But they've been close since childhood, and understand each other better than anyone else. He doesn't want to lose that bond. "Since when did you become such a romantic?" He half-jokingly asks, putting his book on the table.

Despite their history together, they feel like inexperienced kids, trying to figure out love for the first time. It's just a simple, sweet pet name. A name that kisses the back of one's hand, makes someone feel like they're floating on clouds. It makes one feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's a feeling akin to the aroma of fresh bread, the personal thought of a handwritten letter. It’s watching the rain pelting down gently on the pavement, staring through frosted glass windows with a warm drink in hand. It’s the sun reaching through the windows at dawn, encasing everything in a warm yellow glow when the world hasn't woken up yet.

Maehara slowly wrapped his arms around Isogai's waist, peppering featherlight kisses along his shoulder. "Ever since I fell in love with you, darling." Maehara purposefully says it again, and Isogai can practically hear his smile.

"Pff- stop," Isogai giggled softly, ticklish from the onslaught of kisses. "Th-that tickles."

"Fine, fine. Whatever you say-" Maehara relents, kissing him a final time, "-prince charming."

Ah, that old nickname.

Isogai doesn't really think it suits him.

"Prince charming, huh?" he repeats, testing how the title rolls off his tongue. It's a foreign feeling. He doesn't think he deserves such a fancy title. Maybe he's just being modest. "You of all people should know I'm really not that perfect like others say."

Maehara sighs. Having been best friends with Isogai, he knows there is more to him than his charms. He's seen him frightened, and scared. He's witnessed the forgetful and panicky side of Isogai. He's helped him through his meltdowns when the weight of the world on his shoulders was too much to handle. He's seen him angry, and tired. Although, these aren't really flaws to his character. At least that's what Maehara thinks. He ponders deeper, wondering what exactly his friend's weaknesses are.

Perhaps it's his overly self-sacrificing habits, his selfless acts and priorities. Maybe it's his perfection itself that's his flaw. His own downfall. Maybe it's the outcome of his backstory. The aftermath of the long nights and forced smiles. Taking care of others so much that he forgets to take care of himself. Thinking that he isn't good enough, downplaying his self-worth as he's used to it. He wants everyone else to be happy. He thinks his own opinions don't matter.

No. It can't be that either.

Maehara frowns a bit, and wishes Isogai can realize that he's worthy of the nickname of 'prince charming.' That he's perfect even with imperfections.

"I do know. But you're still perfect to me. I always called you that when we were kids and you never had a problem then."

"Yeah, when we were playing pretend," Isogai says, a hint of nostalgic melancholy in his voice. He misses those days, when he was happier, when everything was simpler and there wasn't much to worry about. When Maehara would make him a flower crown ‘fit for a prince’ and pretend to be his knight. He isn't too sure how the whole prince thing started, or why Maehara would think of him as one. But that was back then, and now they've grown older. Now they have responsibilities and duties to take care of. He can't live in a world of fantasies and reminisce about the past forever. He wishes he could, but he can't, no matter how much he yearns for it. "This is reality, Hiroto. We're not kids anymore."

"Don't wanna believe it," Maehara spat out with a pout. "You just grew up faster because you had to."

Ah.

That came out wrong.

But once the words left his mouth, it left a bitter taste on Maehara’s tongue. His throat goes dry and he regrets it immediately. Maehara never really cared for his responsibilities, choosing to fool around and have fun instead. Isogai didn’t have that luxury.

"Oh, I. . . I see," Isogai trails off, unsure of how to respond. He knows it's the truth, and that Maehara wasn't trying to be mean. Isogai did have to grow up faster than other kids his age. He had to be someone his family could depend on, someone others could rely on. He prioritized others' needs before his own. He still does. He pushes himself a lot and it tears him apart mentally and emotionally. He's tired. He's ‘perfect’ because he has to be. Admittedly, it hurts, not having a normal childhood. Forced into maturing and growing up from a young age. He technically still is a kid, though it doesn't feel like it with the overwhelming weight of the world on his shoulders.

"N-No, Yuuma, I didn't mean. . ." Maehara panics and hugs Isogai just a little bit tighter. He doesn't want to see his best friend cry. Especially because of his own mistake. He would never forgive himself for that. "Sorry." It sounds like a shallow, half-hearted apology, just one measly word. But he can't seem to say anything else. He falls silent and stares blankly at the floor.

Isogai doesn't break away from Maehara's hold. Maehara’s kisses linger on his skin. The feeling is bittersweet. Isogai gets a sense of deja vu, and he remembers the name he was given that day in class when everyone was given codenames. 'President poverty,' they called him. Almost mockingly, like salt being rubbed on the wound. He bites his bottom lip, remembering who gave him the codename in the first place.

Maehara Hiroto, his best friend since childhood, the one who understood him most out of everyone. The one who he shared his secrets with, the one who’s been with him through thick and thin. Thinking about it, it almost feels like a betrayal. He glares at the floor.

"President Poverty," he drawled out, venom injected into each syllable.

"Wh-what?" Maehara questions, confused at the sudden change in Isogai’s tone.

Maehara's ignorance, intentional or not, sends Isogai off the edge. "Are you fucking dumb? Wasn't it your idea to give me that codename? My personality isn't just being perfect and poor, y'know!" He practically hisses, prying himself away from Maehara. Isogai frowns at him, glaring at him through misty tinted eyes, pale golden irises losing their shine. "You’re so mean, Hiroto. It's not like I wished to be born into a poor family, for my dad to die, and for my mom to become ill. I didn't want this. I never wanted all these responsibilities. I never wanted to be perfect." He didn't want to be perfect. He wanted to be a kid again.

"Hey, hey, what's with this all of a sudden?" Because while Maehara knows Isogai well, he can't read his mind, can’t follow the trail of thoughts that lead Isogai to this point.

"You wouldn't understand. You don't have to work your life away just to make sure you survive."

What started from anger turned into tears, and Isogai isn't too sure himself of why he's crying. It just hurts, and he's tired of this life. His life. Overwhelmed with everything, his emotions bottled up only to crash in waves. All his life, other people always reminded him that he was poor. They’d point and laugh at something he couldn’t even control. His financial situation was always their go-to insult. And he’d always brush it off with a forced smile, trying to block the insults from his memory. It always hurt whenever he remembered them.

Maehara never really made fun of him for being poor. Or at least, not until the ‘president poverty’ thing. It hurts now that he’s realized it. Isogai considered Maehara his best friend, and yet, it doesn’t feel like it. But Isogai genuinely can't hate him, and he hates that.

Maehara isn't too sure how to respond, not wanting to make the situation worse, only watching Isogai cry out of supposed anger. Maehara lets Isogai cry, he probably needs it anyway, and decides to talk when he's finished. In the meantime, he reflects on Isogai’s outburst and yeah, maybe he was rather insensitive, unintentional or not.

The air around them is still, the tension thick. Time ticks by, but to them the world doesn't move. They're suffocated by a silence filled with regret. Maehara desperately wants to reach his arms out and envelop Isogai into a tight hug, but he knows him well enough to know the other will only push him away. Out of anger, out of fear, out of pain.

Fights have never happened between the two of them. They were always too understanding for that. Of course, they had their arguments, avoiding the other out of shame and guilt, before making up like friends do, learning from their mistakes, trying to better themselves. But it rarely happens, and sometimes they forget about the silly disagreements. But this argument isn't as silly as which one of them kills the spider or turns the light off before the monster gets them. They know you can't turn back time, hit rewind and start over. So they wallow in the pond of regret and guilt, distant from one another as they try to sort out their thoughts.

Isogai begins to regret saying his thoughts. Perhaps he should've just accepted the nickname of 'prince charming'. Maybe they wouldn't feel so awkward right now. Maybe he wouldn’t be bawling his eyes out, sobbing like the child he never allowed himself to be. Deep down, he knows it isn't selfish to speak out his feelings, tell the truth of his thoughts, but it feels selfish to him. Almost like he’s begging for help, for some sort of comfort when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He wants to go back to a time where everything isn’t so complicated, when his mom isn’t ill, and his dad isn’t forever gone. He wants to go back to a time when he wasn’t working a part-time job, when smiling wasn’t such a chore that made his cheeks hurt, and when his wrists weren't sore from carrying trays and plates and cups all day. He never wanted these things to mold him into the person he became today, sculpted and shaved down and crafted into perfection.

Although right now, he isn’t so perfect, breaking down in front of his best friend. His eyes all red and puffy and his tears streaming down and into his mouth, his sleeves stained with snot. His throat is hot and sore and he almost chokes on his cries. In a way, he feels relieved, letting everything out. Allowing himself to feel something, to cry, to feel human. Breaking the carefully sculpted character he chiseled himself, the one that adapted and matured to life all too quickly, the one that hid all his flaws and imperfections behind a wall.

He cries and cries until the tears dry out, and in the end he just feels kind of pathetic. He doesn’t say anything, wiping away the last of his tears. Maehara gently rubs a hand on his back, which Isogai doesn’t bother trying to swat away. He’s just tired.

"I'm sorry, really, I am," Maehara says quietly. He feels really bad but he's mostly mad at himself and he should've just kept his mouth shut but he never learns his lesson. "I know about your situation and I didn’t really take your feelings into account. I just thought that a name like that could help you relax a bit and not worry about being perfect all the time. I was uh, very wrong on that. It's unfair that you have all these responsibilities when you never asked for it in the first place. I acted like it was your fault when it never was to begin with. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I'm. . . really sorry."

Maehara wouldn't be surprised if Isogai never forgave him. He's made a lot of mistakes in the past. Way too many, for his liking. Now that he thinks about it, he's done a lot of things he regrets. Mistakes he can't erase, no matter how hard he tries. But he never really confronted his problems, opting to move on and run away instead.

Isogai takes some time to process Maehara's apology, wiping away his tears. He gazes solemnly at Maehara, his eyes all puffy and glassy, and Maehara's heart breaks. Right, he caused that. Maehara feels really guilty, almost wanting Isogai to be mad at him rather than upset. He repeats the word 'sorry' in his head, over and over again.

"Please never call me that again." Isogai doesn’t really know whether to forgive Maehara or not. If he does, it’ll probably take a while. But the request should be a start, he decides.

"You have my word," Maehara mumbles quietly, stretching out his pinky finger.

Isogai interlocks his pinky finger with Maehara and his lips stretch into the faintest smile. “You better keep it,” he laughs weakly. He almost can't tell if it was genuine or not.

"I will. Promise." Maehara began to trace gentle patterns on the back of Isogai’s hand, something he always did when the other was in need of comfort. "Do you miss being a kid again?" It was a genuine question, no ill intentions.

"A little, yeah," Isogai admits. He almost forgot what it was like to be one. To be carefree, unaware of the harsh realities of the world in front of him. He doesn't really mind it, or at least that's what he tells himself.

Unlike him, Maehara hasn't forgotten, and he wiggles his fingers lightly against Isogai's waist in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Isogai stifles a laugh, before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Wa-wait! Stop- Hiroto stop it!"

“You’re as ticklish as ever.” Maehara says with a smirk, letting his hands fall to his sides.

“And you’re as annoying as ever.”

“Hey!” Maehara lightly punched Isogai’s shoulder. And really, he shouldn’t take offense when he insulted his best friend where it hurts most.

Isogai doubles over with a laughing fit, and Maehara is about to ask why until Isogai quickly composes himself and turns back to face him. On his face is a stupid grin as he wipes away a tear. "I love you though.”

Maehara softly glares at him, lips curving into a half-smile, half-frown. "Hmph. I love you too." He gently caressed Isogai’s cheek with his palm. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his expression softening as he gazed adoringly at Isogai. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve Isogai. “Could I. . . hug you again?”

Isogai gives him a nod and Maehara practically bursts with happiness as he tackles the other in a hug, pressing their bodies close together. It’s warm. And feels like home.

“It’s okay to let loose sometimes, y'know. I know you have to work because of money issues and you have to take care of your family and all that but you should take care of yourself too. Don’t push yourself too hard, alright? I care about you a lot. Your health and happiness is just as important as everyone else's.”

Isogai is pleasantly taken aback at Maehara's words, and he can't help but smile. He returns Maehara’s hug, wrapping his arms around the other tightly. It's times like these he's glad to have put up with Maehara all these years, happy to have him in his life. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind."

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #hiroto maehara #yuuma isogai #maeiso #my writing #this was actually supposed to be fluff #I derailed so much it turned into angst haha ;-;#this was also an excuse to make Isogai cry #me: I love Isogai he's such a comfort character :)#also me: let's make him cry :))#I also self-projected a bit with the 'he thinks his own opinions don't matter' thing #I'm not good at analysis but I can write characters crying :D

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

rascal. (bokuto koutarou)

➵ maybe pirates aren’t so bad, after all.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: f!reader, copious amounts of fluff, tomfoolery

a/n: rachel darling i remember you were the one to request pirates, so here it is! you’re an absolute sweetheart, and thank you for always popping into my inbox and being as lovely as you are! i hope you enjoy this! ren and remy, thank you so much for your help on this fic!

Inheriting your aunt’s tavern wasn’t exactly a blessing.

If anything, you planned to sell it off after a year or two. You were only going to work it for a year out of respect – it was giving you the opportunity to secure some sense of financial freedom, after all.

Not that it was the act of running a tavern that you were uncomfortable with. Not at all – you’d never had access to this much money before, and it was less gruelling work than that of the farm.

And it helped you stave off getting married for a few years – thank the gods.

The issue was one of reputation. Your aunt’s – no, your tavern – was known for playing host to patrons with less than sterling character. It was known for servicing ‘unscrupulous fellows,’ as your father had grumbled. In that very same breath, he’d told you that you had to take it – the money was too good to pass up.

So, you’d moved to this bustling port city, intent on making at least something during your first few months. You’d hoped that the reputation of your patrons was all hearsay; rumours spread by competitors, or maybe gullible travellers.

Unfortunately, your father was right.

Pirates. Pirates, everywhere. How your aunt had built up a client base composed primarily of these seaborne rogues, you weren’t sure.

But you were wise enough to keep your opinions to yourself. These men would be lining your pockets for the foreseeable future, after all.

Had you been scared, at first? Yes! Absolutely terrified! But you had to accustom yourself to it – and fast.

You even knew a few by name; regulars who always seemed to come in at least twice a month or so. Some came weekly, which always made you doubt just how much seafaring they actually did.

Some even brought you spoils from their ‘travels’. Goods like wheat and barley, mostly – stuff that you were wise enough to turn a blind eye to. Most of the time, you would just donate such things to the local orphanage. They had better use for such things, anyway.

You were sure that a few of them, blinded by their drunken haze, couldn’t actually tell the difference between you and your aunt. But it was no matter; whoever your aunt was, she was tough as nails. That wasn’t a surprise, though. She had left this place simply because she wanted to go travelling around the world. You wondered, more than once, if she’d actually run off with a pirate.

There was a certain group of regulars that confused you, though. Admittedly, you were quite fond of them, but you had no idea if they were pirates, or just some old chums. They always came in at least once a week, and they were never short on gold.

But they treated you well, and always made a habit of hanging around the bar.

Their leader was striking, a tall, muscular man with a pair of sparkling golden eyes and the world’s brightest smile. He certainly had the look of a pirate – that typical white shirt that revealed a little more of his chest than maybe it should, the sun-kissed skin, the sword slung around his waist.

But his personality only half fit the bill. Loud, gregarious, bold – but sensitive, childish, naïve.

And yet despite all that, you could tell that he was in charge. Things always seemed to come back to him, no matter what. Even if his stunning black-haired friend – likely the first mate, if they really were pirates – seemed to call most of the shots.

Not that it mattered, in the end. They paid up, and that was enough.

“So, what do you think of pirates?” This leader, who you’d surmised was called ‘Bokuto’, asked, tilting his head to the side. He looked a little like a bird.

A ripple of exasperation ran through his friends.

You laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“Rumour is they’re your main clientele.” Another one of the men – possibly called Konoha, if you remembered correctly – smirked at you from over his flagon.

“Ah,” you smiled, propping your elbows on the bar and resting your chin on folded hands. “It’s hard to tell these days.” You’d play the game, if you must.

“Huh?” The lot of them frowned at you; were they offended, maybe?

“I like my pirates traditional, see,” you sighed, adding a touch more exasperation than necessary. “You know; eyepatches, big feathery hats, peg legs… but nobody who comes through those doors looks the part.”

Konoha and some of the other men snorted, but Bokuto perked up.

“Wouldn’t pirates be bad for business?” Konoha raised an eyebrow at you. “Driving off other clients, and all that?”

You shrugged, biting your cheek. “What use is respectable clientele if they’re not willing to pay for an entire barrel of ale?”

Some of them laughed at that. What a relief; it meant they weren’t paying attention to the discomfort behind those words.

“I just wish they looked like pirates.” You shook your head, standing up to full height again. “If you’re going to be a pirate, you may as well dress like they do in all those romantic tales.”

“So you’re upset that they’re not meeting your personal tastes?” Konoha chuckled. “Isn’t it bad to ogle your clientele?”

“Well, they see no problem with ogling me, so I think it’s only fair,” you shrugged, waving a hand at him. You barely felt the sentiment, but you weren’t about to be vulnerable in front of a pirate.

A small racket erupted from the lot of them, a cacophony of responses that ranged from concern to amusement. You took the opportunity to turn away from them, a serene smile masking your face.

You liked those boys. You really did.

But it certainly felt remiss to befriend a group of pirates. Even if they did pay your bills.

✧ ✧

“Is he okay?” You asked, handing Akaashi two flagons.

“Hm?” Akaashi blinked, a small frown touching at the corners of his mouth.

“Your captain.” You nodded in the direction of the man in question. He was sitting on the other side of the tavern, very conspicuously not looking at you. That in itself was abnormal. But what really made it weird was the eyepatch. And the pointed leather hat adorned with an obnoxiously big feather. Those were both new additions to his get up.

“Oh,” Akaashi sighed, placing the flagons on the bar. “He’s fine.”

“But… his eye…”

“He’s still got both of them, don’t worry,” Akaashi said, shaking his head. “He thought he needed to change up his image.”

“Change up… his image?”

“He wanted to look more fearsome,” Akaashi deadpanned, his eyes flicking down. “More like a true pirate.”

You giggled at the thought. “So, you’re really pirates, then?”

“You already knew that,” Akaashi smiled softly.

He was the cleverest one, that was for sure.

Your eyes found their way back to Bokuto. He seemed to be struggling with his new costume, constantly readjusting the eyepatch and pushing the tip of the hat back up so it wouldn’t obstruct his vision. Occasionally, he would screw up his nose a bit. Not really the look of a fearsome pirate captain.

“I see he hasn’t sawed his leg off, though.” You bit back a smile.

Akaashi chuckled at that. “No, he’s not unreasonable enough for that.” He raised an eyebrow at you before turning to look at his captain. “He did some asking around. Got a good scope of all those romantic pirate stories you were talking about.”

“Really?” You scoffed. If this was his attempt to woo you, it surely was the most creative yet.

“Well, tell him that I don’t like my pirates reticent,” you smiled, winking at Akaashi. “I much prefer it when they talk to me.”

Akaashi laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Will do.”

Within five minutes, Bokuto was back at your bar, the eyepatch replaced by his typical brilliant smile. The hat remained a part of the ensemble, but you didn’t mind. You were quick to assure him that you preferred it that way.

✧ ✧

“Bokuto.”

“Yeah?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine!” Bokuto beamed at his first mate, scratching the underbelly of the parrot sitting on his shoulder. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you Birdmeat?”

The name ‘Birdmeat’ had come from the suggestion that Bokuto should name his parrot after his favourite food. He was the only one who failed to see the issue with it.

“I fail to see how a parrot is supposed to impress a woman,” Akaashi muttered.

“It’ll impress her because he can speak, duh,” Bokuto scoffed, as if he’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Idiot!” The bird squawked, flapping its wings. “Idiot!”

Bokuto’s face fell. But for once, he let it slide. “Just you wait, Akaashi,” he beamed, pointing a finger at his first mate. “This will impress her.”

It did not, in fact, impress you.

“What if it shits?” You grimaced, gazing at the gaudily coloured bird with an expression that could only be described as thinly-veiled contempt.

“It… won’t.”

“It will.”

“Akaashi—”

He just shot Bokuto a look that said, ‘I told you so.’ The fact that it was empty of any malice or self-righteousness just made it more infuriating.

“I’d be… willing to let it slide if it was… restrained, somehow,” you said carefully, your mind running through all the possible ways this could go wrong.

It was just a bird. It couldn’t cause too much mayhem.

But, it belonged to Bokuto. The human manifestation of havoc.

And that made you nervous.

Bokuto nodded vigorously, turning to Akaashi. “We can manage that, right?”

“Uh.” Akaashi looked at you. There was something about his eyes that made it seem like he was apologising. “Do you have any rope?”

Five minutes and a lot of squawking later, and the parrot had a tenuous rope wrapped around it’s belly like a harness. You’d felt too bad about tying its wings or legs up, so you’d made Bokuto swear to not let go of the rope. He’d been resolute, promising that he’d be very mindful of his little companion.

Finally, it seemed, you could get back to business.

“One spiced mead, please!” Bokuto beamed, hands on his hips in some sort of pose.

You swallowed down a sigh. You’d be damned if this man wasn’t entertaining – perhaps even charming, in his own way – but by the gods did he give off the impression of a disaster waiting to happen.

Just go about your business, you thought to yourself. It’s fine, Bokuto’s got a grip on the rope. It’ll be fine.

“Here,” you sighed, placing the flagon on the bar in front of him.

In his enthusiasm, Bokuto used two hands to pick it up.

Two. Meaning one wasn’t holding the rope.

And Birdmeat knew.

Even Akaashi wasn’t fast enough.

It sprung off Bokuto’s shoulder, landing in his flagon with an undignified splash.

Bokuto shrieked, swatting at the parrot with one hand. Akaashi had dove head-first at the ground, missing the rope by a mere margin.

“Bokuto!” He yelled.

Bokuto flinched, realising a moment too late that he’d let go of the damn bird.

Birdmeat shot straight up, its wings flapping at full speed.

You should’ve trusted your instincts.

Chaos erupted.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto shrieked, flailing his hat in the air.

The man in question looked like he had just left this mortal plane. You had half a mind to join him.

The bird was still flapping around the tavern, squawking at the top of its little lungs.

The rest of Bokuto’s crew was on their feet, staring at the bird with some sense of dumbfounded resignation. A normal day for them, you supposed.

“That fuckin’ bird just shat in my ale!”

Oh no. Oh no.

Laughter erupted from one end of the tavern – likely that poor sod’s friends. But you didn’t have time to worry about that. You’d just give him a free drink or two later. Your main concern was stopping that little fucker from doing anything worse.

The last thing you wanted to do was try and calm a pirate who had bird shit running down his forehead.

How were you even supposed to catch a bird? Did you have a net?

Your other patrons had noticed by now, their expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance to anger. Multiple voices were crying out, but you couldn’t quite tell what any of them were saying. All you could do was watch the parrot fly higher and higher, the short leash of rope rising well out of reach.

The bird clattered onto one of the rafters, its claws skittering across the wood. You’d never get those scratches out.

“Idiot!” It squawked. “Idiot!”

You could’ve sworn it was looking at Bokuto.

“Do you have a plan?” You hissed, head whipping round to him.

Bokuto glanced at you sheepishly, his cheeks red as anything. “Maybe?”

Why did that make you feel worse?

“Akaashi…”

“Please don’t tell me…”

“It’s the only way…”

You looked between the two of them, frowning. “What? What are you planning?”

“Trust me,” Akaashi sighed. “You won’t like it.”

You didn’t.

Bokuto’s ‘plan’ was to prop Akaashi on his shoulders, hoping that would be high enough to reach that damn parrot’s leash. And admittedly, that wasn’t the worst plan. But this was Bokuto. Anything could go wrong.

Poor Akaashi looked like he knew that quite well.

You watched in horror as he stood himself on one of your stools, giving you an apologetic nod in the process. You stared at him, dumbfounded. Bokuto dashed forward, turning around so his back was facing his precariously balanced friend.

“Be careful,” Akaashi mumbled, swinging his legs over Bokuto’s awaiting shoulders.

Bokuto nodded with a grunt, clamping his hands over Akaashi’s knees as if to stabilise him. It certainly didn’t make you feel any more at ease.

This was a disaster waiting to happen. You just knew you were about to watch someone split their head open on the floor of your tavern.

The lumbering form of Akaashi-plus-Bokuto ambled towards Birdmeat, each wobbly step taken with great purpose.

You watched, rapt with horror as they inched closer to their target, one of Akaashi’s hands outstretched and the other planted on the top of Bokuto’s head.

Birdmeat cocked his head.

Akaashi leant forward, swiping at the air. He grabbed the rope, giving it a careful tug. Birdmeat flapped its wings, scrambling as it fell backwards off the scaffolding.

One more yank and it was against Akaashi’s chest, caged in by his arms.

A confused cheer rippled through his crewmates as they crowded around him.

You frowned as you watched them squabble amongst themselves for a bit, fingers pointing and voices raised as they disagreed over who should have to deal with the bird.

A hush set upon the tavern, each and every pair of eyes turned to the small gaggle of men bickering amongst themselves. You were sure that your patrons were just as worried as you were that they’d accidentally let it go in the midst of their bickering.

You weren’t about to let that happen.

“Get that damn thing out of here,” you grumbled, pointing at the door. A few more moments of bickering, and the bird had safely traded hands. One of the men, a shorter fellow you’d come to know as ‘Komi’ nodded, scampering out the door with the parrot safely clasped between his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Bokuto mumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest.

This was their captain? This big, muscular behemoth of a man who was sitting on your tavern floor, curled up in a ball?

What kind of pirate crew was this?

“It’s… okay,” you sighed, pressing two fingers to your eyes. “Nobody got hurt, so…”

Bokuto braved a look at you, his golden eyes round and pitiful. Hell, even his hair seemed like it had deflated. How was that even possible?

“We’ll help you clean up,” Akaashi said, giving you a quick bow. “I deeply apologise for the commotion.”

You waved your hands at him, overwhelmed by the sudden formality. “No, no, it’s fine!”

Maybe you should’ve been angrier. Maybe you should’ve been more upset. But something about this was just… delightfully absurd. Nobody but Bokuto would’ve thought that this was a good idea. And it was nice to have some excitement that didn’t involve cutlasses for once.

“Just… just help me clean up, okay?” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Then we’ll call it even.”

A week later, a poster took pride of place above the bar. It read, in big, bold lettering: “ABSOLUTELY NO PARROTS, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. EVER.”

Akaashi had made it himself.

✧ ✧

Bokuto liked to think of himself as a well-mannered man despite his disreputable occupation.

He’d even tried to get Akaashi to market them better; something along the lines of ‘debonair,’ the whole ‘criminals, but with a conscience’ shtick. Akaashi had refused, calling it a waste of time – they were pirates after all, and regardless of how moral their conduct was, they were going to have a bad reputation.

But that didn’t stop Bokuto from trying his very best to be a rogue with a heart of gold.

And he was currently debating whether or not punching an asshole in the face challenged or reinforced that identity.

“Akaashi—”

“Don’t do it.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Bokuto whined, pouting at his second-in-command.

“She’ll be mad at you if you start a fight,” Akaashi murmured, taking a sip of his ale.

Bokuto huffed, head whipping around to look at you again.

To anyone else, you looked unbothered; smiling like you usually did, laughing at each poor joke directed your way. But Bokuto could tell that something was off. That you were uncomfortable. And he didn’t like that one bit.

He’d been watching long enough to identify the source of your discomfort.

Some dude that he’d only seen a handful of times, but had seen enough to know that he distinctly didn’t like his aura.

“Akaashi, I’m gonna do it.”

“Don’t do it.”

“But he’s making her uncomfortable,” Bokuto whined, looking between Akaashi and the bar with a certain hint of desperation.

“Maybe you should ask her about it before doing anything brash,” Akaashi sighed, rubbing one of his temples with two fingers. “Walking up to some dude and punching him in the face isn’t a good way of impressing your crush.”

“I don’t have a crush!”

“Sure you don’t, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, taking another sip from his mug.

“Psst!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Was he trying to be subtle? Because leaning the entire top half of his body over the bar wasn’t exactly understated.

“Yes?”

“If I started a fight with that dude, would you get mad at me?”

What? Your eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes growing wide. “Bokuto, what the fuck?”

“Not, like, a proper fight,” he mumbled, pouting. “Just, like… a warning.”

“A warning?” Why did he think that sounded any better?

“Like a territorial thing!”

You blinked. “Bokuto, what are you talking about?”

“Well, like… if he feels unwelcome here, he’s not gonna keep bothering you, right?” Bokuto asked, tilting his head at you. He always looked like a little owl when he did that, eyes big and round and far more innocent than they should be. Wasn’t he a pirate captain?

But there was something charming about his simple logic. And something touching about the fact he was this concerned.

“Look,” you sighed, reaching over and taking his hand. You didn’t miss how his entire face bloomed red, right up to his ears. “I appreciate the thought, but I’ll be okay.”

A thought crossed your mind. A foolish thought, really. But one you didn’t abhor.

You leant forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Bokuto looked like he’d ascended. His golden eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them, his mouth forming a tiny ‘o’ as he gaped at you.

You giggled, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go. “I’ve got a sword out back anyway.”

Those words yanked Bokuto back down to earth.

“Wait, really?” For some reason, he couldn’t quite comprehend it. But the thought of you wielding a sword made him… feel things he was rather ashamed of.

You giggled, picking up a flagon and turning to one of the barrels lined up against the wall.

“I know how to use it, too.” You shot him a wink. “My father thought that’d be a pertinent skill for me to learn, seeing as I was moving all the way out here.”

“Right.” Bokuto nodded, almost a little too vigorously. “Right.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you smiled, handing him the flagon. Spiced mead. His favourite.

You had to take his hand and wrap it around the handle, shocked and flustered as he was.

“Off you go,” you tutted, waving him towards his friends.

Somehow, he managed to walk all that way without tripping.

“Oh come on,” Konaha groaned, rolling his eyes.

Bokuto wasn’t looking at them. He couldn’t, really. All he could think about was you – about how pretty you were, how soft your lips had felt against his cheek, how you smelt like whiskey and cinnamon and freshly baked bread.

Gods, having a crush was hard.

✧ ✧

“Do you… like it?” Bokuto stood on the other side of the bar, cheeks flushed and hair dishevelled with intoxication.

You’d faced many things in your time as a tavern wench. You’d believed that it meant you’d be ready to face any kind of situation, no matter how bizarre or off-beat or unsettling it might be.

That was naïve of you.

Because as you stood in front of Bokuto, very expensive-looking necklace in hand, you didn’t know what to say.

“I…”

The necklace really was beautiful. It looked like a sapphire of some kind; a rich blue gem grafted into an oval. The faintest of glows emanated from it, adding an air of ethereal dignity that you didn’t quite know how to comprehend.

You were uncomfortably aware of your surroundings. Of the dingy walls, the rafters that definitely needed a touch-up or two, the general stink of sea and men and drink.

You were uncomfortably aware of yourself. Dressed in some prettied-up rags, your hair pulled out of your face with a strip of cloth, your entire body coated in a slick of sweat and dirt.

You shouldn’t be holding something this expensive. It was wrong.

Hell, you didn’t even know where this came from. You didn’t know how he’d gotten his hands on it.

“I can’t take it,” you said decisively, reaching for one of his hands.

He jumped, but the contact was enough to catch him off guard. You turned his palm upwards, placing the necklace in the centre and gently curling his fingers over it.

“It’s too… much,” you said, shaking your head. You tried to smile at him, but you knew there’d be a melancholic touch to it.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned, casting his eyes downwards. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. For putting up with u—with me.”

“If you want to say thank you,” you mused, crossing your arms over your chest. “How about you teach me to sword fight?”

He puffed out his cheeks as he pouted at you. You weren’t sure if he’d meant to do it or not. “I thought you said you knew how to use a sword.”

Those words had been seared into the back of his brain for the past two months.

“I mean—” You swallowed, straightening your shoulders. “I do, but not well…”

Bokuto blinked at you, completely unsure of what to say.

Did he want to spend more time with you? Absolutely.

“Okay.”

The word left his mouth before he’d run through all the options. Did he trust himself not to make a complete and utter fool of himself, should the two of you be alone? Absolutely not.

But when you smiled at him like that, maybe he didn’t mind the thought of humiliating himself.

✧ ✧

“It might be better if you held it with two hands,” Bokuto mused, his own cutlass falling to his side as he took a step closer to you.

You sighed, lowering your blade. “Right.”

Gods, you were tired.

Bokuto had made good on his agreement without complaint. If anything, he seemed a bit too enthusiastic about it. He’d shown up a good three hours before opening, and had launched into his lesson before you’d even had time to process what was going on. You hadn’t even had your sword at the ready.

But it had gone well, all things considered. So well that you’d insisted on doing it again.

This was now your fourth lesson. You had a lot to learn, and Bokuto certainly wasn’t a bad teacher; so long as you could wrap your head around what he was saying.

And usually, you’d be able to have a good time.

But today was different. Today, you couldn’t put up a veneer of joviality. There was too much to worry about.

“Hey, are you alright?” Bokuto pouted, tilting his head at you.

You flinched, drawn out of your own thoughts by his voice.

You hadn’t heard those words in a while. You hadn’t really had time to make friends in this port city, let alone find people who gave a damn about your well-being. You’d just been so busy, running the tavern. Its reputation hadn’t helped you in the social sphere, either. It was hard convincing people you were worth their time when you were known for supplying pirates with their ale. No, the only people who looked out for you were back home.

Like your poor father.

No. No, don’t.

It set upon you before you could stop it. The lump in your throat. The tremble in your hands. The burning at the corner of your eyes.

It took only a second for you to come undone.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Bokuto started, his sword clattering on the ground as his hands came up to clutch your shoulders. That was enough to shock you back to the moment at hand.

“I’m sorry!” You gasped, covering your face with your hands. Gods, this was embarrassing. What sort of tavern owner cried in front of her own damn customers?

“Don’t apologise!” He cooed. “You don’t have anything to apologise for!”

Oh, but you certainly did. Before your days running the tavern you might’ve completely broken down in front of him, dignity be damned. But you were much better at holding your composure now. Several months of serving pirates would do that to you.

“I’m…” You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. “Can we finish early for today? I’ve just got… a lot of things I’m dealing with right now.”

Bokuto gazed at you sadly, running gentle hands up and down your arms. “Of course.”

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, keeping your voice as stable as possible.

“You can… talk to me,” he murmured, squeezing your arms gently.

You looked up at him. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew you might regret it later.

But fuck, you needed to talk to someone.

“It’s just…” You swallowed, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “My father’s ill.”

“Oh.” Bokuto’s whole demeanour deflated. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the look on his face.

“And… and all the money I’m earning out here is being sent home for treatment,” you sighed. “They’ve even called in some mages to have a look at him, but that gets… expensive.”

“I can imagine,” Bokuto frowned, unsure of whether or not he should wrap his arms around you. Would that make it worse? Make it better?

“That’s not even taking into account the cost of running this place.” You bit your lip, gesturing to the tavern in question. “Or how expensive it is to subsidise my family. Mother’s income alone isn’t near enough to help them get by…”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. He didn’t need to hear all this.

“I’m sorry,” you swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey now.” Bokuto shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you into his chest.

You flinched in surprise, but you didn’t move away. He was warm – and muscular. And it had been a long, long time since anyone had held you like this.

“I told you not to apologise, didn’t I?” He hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “It sounds like you’ve got a lot on your shoulders.”

You nodded weakly. Your arms were trapped between your body and his, but you really, really wanted to wrap them around his waist.

“You can just relax for now, okay?” He said, giving you a little squeeze. “Take a breather.”

He loosened his grip a bit. Just enough for you to manoeuvre your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer to him.

He’d intended to let you go, fearing that this was all too much for you. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

But no matter how fast his heart was beating, or how embarrassingly red the entire top half of his body must be, he wouldn’t deny you this moment.

Not if it might just help you smile.

✧ ✧

“Hey, hey, hey!”

That bright smile really did nothing but bring you relief, didn’t it?

“Hello, Bokuto,” you smiled, fighting off your exhaustion. It was about an hour or so until your official opening time, but you certainly wouldn’t begrudge his company.

He half-ran up to the bar, smile in tow. It hadn’t faded even a little bit since he’d opened the door.

“What’s got you so happy?” You chuckled, looking him up and down.

“Well,” he grinned, voice a little more theatrical than usual. “I spoke to the fellas.”

“Huh?”

“Hello,” Akaashi nodded.

You jumped. Where had he come from? Had he even walked through the front door? Or had you just been so distracted by Bokuto?

Oh, but you had something else to worry about.

A fat sack of coins, sitting on the table you’d just been cleaning.

“What’s this?” You frowned, looking between the two of them.

“I may have mentioned that you were… having a bit of financial trouble, and we decided that… we wanted to help in any way we could,” Bokuto mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “So we went around to the other guys who come here and we asked them to throw in a little cash.”

Your eyes focused on the bag again. How much was there? You pulled the string at its neck with a trembling hand, daring a look inside.

Shit, were these all gold?

“I can’t take this.” You shook your head, holding your hands up like a shield. “It’s too—"

“Aha!” Bokuto pointed a finger at you, a triumphant grin on his face. “I knew you’d say that!”

You blinked at him.

“You see, this isn’t a gift! This is a combined tip from all of your patrons! Money given willingly, as a thanks for your service! So, you have no reason to feel bad about accepting it!”

You stared at him. Of course he’d come up with something like that.

“You deserve to be happy,” Bokuto said, cheeks flushed as he struggled to meet your gaze. “And… you’re not going to be happy if you’ve got all this stuff to worry about. So… so hopefully this’ll help.”

Your body moved before your mind did.

You weren’t sure how you cleared the distance between the two of you, but your arms were around his neck, pressing your body against his. The poor boy froze, both heart and mind doing backflips.

“Thank you, Bokuto,” you smiled, loosening your hold around his neck and moving back just enough to get a proper look at his face.

He looked like he was about to burn up, but he was beaming. Strange and chaotic and silly as he could be, you really were fond of him. Fond of the amusement he brought to any and all who interacted with him. Fond of the weird way he looked at things, so optimistic and kind. Fond of how he seemed to bring light with him whether he went.

You noticed, not without some amusement, that Akaashi was no longer in the room.

You could certainly take the hint.

Your hands came up to cup his face, and you marvelled at the look of tentative excitement in his eyes.

“You’re a bit like a typhoon,” you chuckled, gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips.

You didn’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Is that… a bad thing?” He mumbled, hands absentmindedly finding their way to your waist.

“Not at all,” you smiled. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his with the most chaste of kisses. You lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, revelling in the sharp little breath he took.

When you met his eyes again, there was a new glint in them. One you rather liked.

“Can you… do that again?”

You laughed, rubbing one of your thumbs over his cheek.

If you hadn’t inherited this den of rogues and rapscallions, this wonderful mess of a man wouldn’t have come crashing into your life. Life was a funny thing, wasn’t it? You’d been so ungrateful when you’d first arrived, and now look at you. Kissing a pirate. You could never have predicted it.

But maybe pirates weren’t so bad, after all.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuucreations #ew tags #anyway this was fun #boys being dumb #does it get any better

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straight-into-the-animus · 3 years

Text

A Place For Crows To Rest Their Feet (French Fryes)

Cause some people were interested in the idea of older French Fryes apparently and I thought I’d try my hand at it.

Song title and fic inspo from Marbles by The Amazing Devil

Read on Ao3

Arno felt old.

Well, he was old. It was made sure of that when at his last milestone birthday that everyone decided to overload the cake with candles representing his age. He had been able to laugh it off as a joke then. But now everytime he looked in the mirror and saw a new wrinkle near his eyes and mouth, he scowled.

When he saw his favorite music being relegated to the classic station, he flipped the channel.

And when it was cold and rainy and shitty outside and he had difficulty getting out of bed, he grumbled.

Jacob always just laughed at his perturbed expression and would say that they didn’t need to get out of bed anyway and would snuggle in for a few hours more.

Even though he knew Jacob never meant anything by the things he said, it still made him feel bad. His husband was only a few years younger than him. But the problem was he didn’t look that bad, and if he felt old he never told Arno. He was already aging like fine wine. Arno felt like aged milk.

Jacob had noticed once before, when Arno pointedly avoided looking in the mirror while they were hip to hip in the bathroom getting ready for the day.

“‘ou a’righ’?” He asked around a toothbrush.

“Hmm?” He asked, toweling off and looking over as Jacob spat out the paste and washed his mouth out before trying again.

“You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… off. Didn’t even hear one ABBA song in the shower, either.” He smiled a bit, trying to get Arno to copy. Which he did, but it was gone rather quickly.

“I’m fine, mon amour. Just tired, still.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, pecked Jacob’s cheek and made to leave, but got pulled back. Jacob kissed him deeply, the taste of mint still on his tongue and making Arno hum; his husband’s mouth was still practically sinful after all this time. Jacob pulled away and then went back in for one more peck on Arno’s lips, leaving both of them smiling.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Arno said, meaning it completely as he left to go get dressed.

He tried to make sure that was the end of it, or at least to keep it out of sight of Jacob. But then his pride went down like a kick in the balls when he woke up one morning and saw the roots of his hair turning gray. Like ash gray. Like old gray. He’d gone out to the shops immediately and found the darkest box color for his hair that he could and shoved it in the back of their linen closet the minute he came to his senses.

Really, it was a bad idea. If he did it, he’d have questions no one wanted to hear and explanations he really didn’t want to give. And Jacob would find out anyway. But it was an impulse purchase he didn’t think through and so he hid it until the time was right, if it ever would be.

And then Jacob noticed him as he entered the living room and let Arno in on their small couch to watch whatever inane reality show they both liked, and then he forgot about it, because how could you remember anything at that point?

It didn’t take too long for his husband to find it out, though.

“Care to explain this?” Jacob said, coming into the dining room where Arno was trying to clean, and Arno turned too quickly at the tone in his voice and stubbed his toes on the thick table leg.

“Merde-!”

“Jesus, Arno- Don’t try and die on me now.” Jacob went over quickly as Arno sat in one of the chairs, placing something on the table as he pulled up the other chair next to Arno’s. Arno waved him away and curled up his hurt foot to rub it.

“Don’t touch it.”

“Drama queen. Do you need me to get the first aid kit? Or do you think you’ll live?”

“You’re hilarious. Have I mentioned that before?”

“Only on days that end in “y”.” Jacob replied, and Arno stewed a bit. It didn’t take long for him to look over at whatever it was Jacob had brought into the room, and he grew a bit pale. Jacob, of course, because he had such a great eye when he wanted to, noticed immediately. “Figured it was yours.”

Arno didn’t grace him with a response at first. But the silence wouldn’t give.

“I found some gray hairs.” He mumbled.

“Yeah… Those tend to happen when you make it a few decades.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it! I don’t want to get old, Jacob. I’ll be… Gross, and senile, and you’ll hate me.”

“Please tell me you’re joking. You are joking?”

Arno flexed his hurt foot and quickly set it down, making to leave but stopped as Jacob grabbed his wrist and sat him back down in the chair.

“You know what I like so much about you getting old?” Jacob didn’t wait for Arno to answer. “It shows you made it.”

Arno almost made a rebuttal, but stopped when he tried to parse through the words and actually think about them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve known you for decades.” Jacob still held Arno’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “Since Uni. And you did the dumbest shit. I’m surprised we’ve gotten to this point without you needing a liver transplant.”

Arno looked down. He knew exactly what Jacob was talking about. He had been twenty two and having daily panic attacks about leaving university to actually be a person. Most relationships with girls and some guys were limited to one quick go in bed and then he was gone in the morning.

Jacob hadn’t been much better off emotionally, or financially, but at least he knew how to handle his shit better. They made an interesting match that way.

“You’re getting old because you’re alive. And I get to see that.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well it isn’t.”

Silence overtook for a few minutes as Arno looked down and Jacob studied him.

“Then I guess you must really hate me looking old.” Jacob said.

“I could never. And the difference is, you look good. You still have cute waitresses flirting with you despite the ring.”

“You mean from the diner last week?” Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Leanna had to be forty. And she was just being friendly.”

“She certainly wasn’t giving extra ketchup to me.”

“I would’ve given it to you.”

“So generous.”

“One of my best qualities.” Jacob murmured as Arno’s eyes remained dropped. A hand moved up to Arno’s cheek, and he realized Jacob’s pointer finger was tracing the lines near his mouth and the crows feet on his eyes. “Didn’t marry you for nothing, you know. I knew what I was getting into. And even if you turn out to be a grumpy old hunchback who can’t walk, I would still choose you if I had the choice.”

Arno felt his eyes start to glass over the longer Jacob spoke. It wasn’t some great speech. It was simple, and short, and matter of fact, and just… Jacob. Just as he had been for decades. And it sounded just as sincere now as it sounded when they were much younger men and first said they loved each other. And it was as sincere as when they had finally gotten married not even a decade ago. Arno had a shaky smile and squeezed Jacob’s hand, allowing the other one to keep exploring the tracks in his face.

“‘Sides,” Jacob purred as he leaned in closer, a gleam in his eyes, “being older just means you’re full of experience. And how could anyone say no to that?”

“Jacob-” He didn’t even know where he was going with his sentence, but it hardly mattered when he felt a warm pair of lips on his neck, making their way up his face. He turned his head at the right time and caught Jacob’s lips with his own. They both smiled, a soft thing.

“I love you.” Arno said.

“Love you too. Drama queen.” Jacob smirked as Arno rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Maybe stop putting up such high standards and I’ll consider taking a step back on my quest for perfection.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I gotta put in work to keep you in love with me. Sure as hell it isn’t my personality keeping you locked up.”

“Certainly not.” Arno snorted, leaning in and resting against Jacob. The man held him for a minute before speaking again.

“You believe me yet? That you’re good? And we’re good? Even if you get old?”

“I’ll work on it.” Arno admitted. Whether it was what Jacob wanted to hear or not, he was still welcomed in and let to rest for a while longer.

“Let’s move this to bed so we don’t stiffen up, eh?”

“You’re not going to carry me like you used to?” Arno asked teasingly as Jacob helped him stand up out of the chair. The man shrugged.

“Can’t. I’m too old.”

It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t. But Arno laughed until he coughed, anyway.

They ended up throwing the box color out with much prejudice. And when Jacob started growing his own gray hairs, looking like a salt and pepper shaker, Arno just ran his fingers through each one while they watched inane reality television.

So. I ended up creating a whole other backstory for these two but found I couldn’t fit it in to the story, lol. If you’d be interested in that as well, let me know.

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day and thank you for reading!

#assassin's creed #french fryes #arno dorian #jacob frye #my writings

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jeanmoreaux · 2 years

Note

I hope you don’t mind, I have an unpopular opinion. As much as I love the SoC duology (mainly sentimental reasons), in hindsight I see so many plot holes or thins that didn’t make sense to me (in a practical sense or in terms of consistency with a character’s personality) and I wanted to both share and ask what you might think! (Pls don’t shoot me)

—- Leigh loves having everyone paired up nicely, but I was just thinking realistically how

strange that Inej becomes captain of a ship (as implied by the end of the 2nd book); she had just reunited with her family as well. It’s not wildly OOC to be a slave-hunter at all, but it’s hard for me to grasp Inej being in the position of a leader (whose ship will surely be recognized and soon enough avoided by said slavers); the whole time we see she excels at shadow work, she is deadliest when quiet/least expected—I suppose the whole commandeering a ship in contrast is something very loud. Almost flashy and so it still bugs me to this day 😫

How neat Wylan and Jesper are together, all wrapped in a bow. They are from incredibly different backgrounds, and this is more of an issue with the writing and pacing than the actual pair—but it wrapped up so quickly and too nicely for me. The very common ‘getting past subtle glances and little flirtatious gestures to finally making a move’ trope (??) // (this is more of a YA complaint because this is honestly a standard formula™️, but I just wanted to include this anyway as an example).

Leigh always has these wonderful concepts, but far too many POVs are included in the novels so it retains a surface-level approach, despite some characters having genuinely interesting psyches and stories that could’ve been explored further (personally for me: the characters of Kaz and Genya most of all)

And that…is just a some of the trivial little nuggets that bonk around my head when I remember SoC 🤣 I’m sorry this endedt up being so long!

hahaha yeah i guess that's quite an unpopular opinion! it's really interesting to read your takes on it (so pls don't apologise for the lengthy message!) i really appreciate your ask! i am happy you feel like you can share these opinions with me. they are pretty understandable issues to have with the series. i think your point on inej is definitely something i have asked myself too since she doesn't seem to have much experience when it comes to sailing and leading a crew, but i kind of always imagined her to curate a small team on an agile boat that stealthily takes out the slave-traders? idk that's what my mind came up with. i mean financially she's definitely in a position where she can do whatever she wants for however long she wants. i don't think she'd jump into it right away but rather spend some time with her family first. (but ofc that’s all just speculation.) i can definitely see why you'd criticise the pacing of wylan and jesper's relationship. it could have been executed better especially in soc. when it comes to their background i think that after everything they both experienced across their lives they're actually not that different? i mean wylan lived in the barrel for quite some time and while he grew up privileged i think he's well aware of how life looks like for people beyond his wealthy bubble. jesper was educated and grew up pretty sheltered on a farm that i imagine didn't do too bad since he had the funds to attend university in ketterdam (a university that even royalty attends—i think it is mentioned somewhere that nikolai was supposed to study there too). he is definitely not as privileged as wylan but the discrepancy is probably not as extreme as if jesper had grown up in the barrel. like, i agree their backgrounds are different, but the difference isn't so extreme that it would make a lasting relationship almost impossible. i kind of agree with your point on the POVs, but at the same time i also kind of don't??? i get why you'd want too get a deeper look into individual psyches, but i don't think that's something these books ever set out to do—while there is some strong character work ,the grishaverse books are foremost plot-driven stories. they don't aim for that in-depth exploration of characters' psyches. these novels never had the ambition to be intricate character studies. so it's not really fair to criticise them for not doing something they never intended to do (even though i completely get it, i would love dig a little deeper with kaz and genya too!!!) i never felt like the POVs in soc are too many bc i found them to be overall really effective in telling the story. they made it easier to tell the story in the way it was set up to be told. the different perspectives make it possible to cover the plot-relevant parts of the narrative in an engaging and exciting way bc you get different angles of different characters with different amounts of information. all the POVs revolve around the same ONE plot line that binds them together like a glue. ((that's why the POVs in the nikolai duology are TOO MANY... you have so many POV characters with their own plots and it doesn't really come together until the very end so you're just jumping around too much which consequently takes you out of the story. it's all so disjointed and quite messy which makes it hard to get invested in any of the narrative arcs.))

i think i'll have to stop here bc this is already SOO LONG, but i just wanna add that this series is YA, it just has to wrap up everything nicely. it kind of comes with the genre. (even tho i think the soc duology does leave some things a little open and ambiguous, it's not as neatly wrapped up as many other YA books, and i appreciate that.) in general i think i am just not so harsh on YA, but yeah it does require more suspension of disbelief in some cases.

#sorry for any typos i am writing this in kind of a hurry and don't have time to proofread until later #but thanks for the message!!#hope you're having a lovely day <3 #anon #answer

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Star crossed lovers (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic (there will be a bunch of parts to it) there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

(this chapter is more about setting up the basis of the story so is more context than anything else, part 2 will be more interesting I swear 😭, also it’s like 4am so if there’s any gramatical mistakes I’ll fix it later)

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @simpforpoppy @ognenniyvolk (I’m pretty sure this is my tag list if you wanna be added or taken off for future chapters just ask 😊)

word count: 3.6k

Part 1: The introduction

As the sun began to set, the houses along the street began to bask in its warm glow. The neighbourhood is quiet, like always, excluding the occasional car engine rumbling through the roads until they disappear into the distance and once again the silence is deafening. This neighbourhood was your typical suburban type, their structures stood tall and bold. Looking from an aerial point of view, one could argue that it’s almost like the houses have been copied and pasted along the street, they almost look perfect. One theory is that they were purposely made to look like they're perfect because they don’t want anyone to find out their secrets. It’s harder to catch a true glimpse when everything looks flawless.

If you compare the northside and the southside of Greensburg, it makes it seem like they’re living in two different worlds and maybe they are. The polarisation between the rich and the poor only becomes bigger, demonstrated by the high socio-economic backgrounds of those who lived in the north who go to the best schools, have the best jobs and sometimes own more than one house. Compared to those in a low socio economic background in the south, who usually have to work two jobs just to feel some sort of financial stability in their lives or have no choice but to indulge in illegal jobs just so they can feel some sort of power and superiority and have money of course. Only a few in the south are able to lead a straight and narrow life and successfully do it without having to engage in the culture of illegal activities.

Bea Hughes, a girl who lives in Greensburg is someone who managed to immerse herself in both worlds. She used to be part of the upper class lifestyle but after life fucked her and her family over at the tender age of 8 years old, she was pulled into another world, one that she quickly had to acquaint herself with, because in the south, survival matters. The luxuries she once knew as a kid had disappeared and she constantly lived in a fight or flight situation. Now as her senior year of high school looms ahead, she finds herself still living in a similar situation, but instead of dealing with gangs or her addict of a mother, she had to deal with stuck up rich kids in Greensburg’s most prestigious school, Belvoire, which may have been her toughest obstacle of all. Against all odds, Bea managed to earn a scholarship at this private school when she was 15, and in order to keep her place, she has to maintain a 4.0 GPA, join at least one extra curricular activity and immerse herself into the culture of the school (whatever that meant).

Even though life managed to be shitty most of the time, there was one constant, one thing that made life worth living, one thing that made her the happiest…

“Crap”, the brunette clung onto the branch of the tree trying to regain her footing after narrowly avoiding her death (or more likely a trip to the hospital). After recovering from her mild slip, she rapped on the window beside her and a few seconds later the window slides open and as she enters the room she trips up on her own feet landing face down on the floor.

“Real smooth”

Bea chuckles at the snark comment as she looks up and as the sunlight shines through the window, it highlights all the features of the other girl. She was shorter than Bea (although not in this moment since Bea was practically laying on the floor), her facial features were sharp and her strawberry blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Her plush pink lips were curled up in a small smile as she offered a hand to the girl to help her up.

“I totally meant to do that” Bea takes her hand and lifts herself off the floor, and after she quickly dusts herself off and grabs the blonde’s wrist pulling her towards her while her other hand settles on her waist. “So how much time do we have?”

The petite girl wounds her arms around the taller girl’s neck and slightly tip toes to whisper, “my dad has dinner with a bunch of investors so he’s not going to be back until midnight”. A huge smile appears on her face as she leans back slightly taking in the appraising look of the brunette.

“Perfect”.

Bea moves in to kiss the blonde, passion already igniting as their tongues tangle in a fight for dominance until Bea suddenly pulls away, foreheads touching, eyes blazing with desire as she whispers against the other girl’s lips, “I missed you Pops”.

The other girl rolls her eyes and unwinds her arms from Bea’s neck, slightly pushing her back and while maintaining eye contact she walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge, “shuttup, you literally saw me yesterday” her tone attempting to come across as catty but instead comes out in a more playful manner.

Bea raises an eyebrow as she saunters to where the girl is sitting and places two fingers under the girl’s chin lifting her face until their eyes meet, “so? I’m suddenly not allowed to miss my girlfriend?” She leans in, her lips ghosts around the blonde’s lips.

“You talk too much, come on we’re wasting daylight” the blonde grabs Bea’s shirt and pulls her down onto the bed with her as they tussle in the sheets, lips crashing against one another reigniting the same passion from the kiss before.

“Poppy..” Bea all but moans when Poppy places wet kisses along her jawline and begins biting at her neck. Not wanting her to have all the fun, Bea suddenly flips Poppy over pressing her deeper into the mattress as she ravenously kisses her, as if Poppy is the only one who can satiate her desire, and honestly speaking? She probably is.

“No more foreplay, I want you now” Poppy breathlessly says, breaking the heated kiss. Bea sits up to straddle Poppy, intertwining both hands with hers and places it above the blonde’s head and grinds on her hips earning a low groan from Poppy.

“Ask and you shall receive my queen”

In response, Poppy rolls her eyes and her tongue darts out of her mouth, teasingly moving against her own soft lips and as Bea leans in for another kiss her slender fingers move lightly above Poppy’s inner thigh, touching everywhere except where Poppy wanted her the most. After a few pleads from the blonde, Bea finally indulges her desires and they moved in perfect syncopation.

…..

After a while, Bea and Poppy collapse into each other’s arms, exhausted but satisfied recovering from their physically demanding rendezvous. Bea lays on her back with one arm behind her head and one arm wrapped around the petite girl who fit perfectly in her larger frame. Poppy relaxes her head on Bea’s chest, feeling lulled by her heartbeat which brings her a sense of calm and security. Bea softly kisses her forehead and looks down at the girl, entranced by her beauty, enrapturing the way her breaths are slightly longer and deeper than usual, the way her hair falls around her face and how her fingers subconsciously ghost around Bea’s stomach drawing lazy shapes.

Poppy Min Sinclair, a 5’2 blonde beauty who is Bea’s entire world. Everything about her screams perfection in Bea’s eyes. She’s a straight A student, captain of the cheerleading team, and likes to spend time volunteering at her local animal shelter and is secretly an amazing artist. Though her family was one of the richest families in Greensburg, Poppy wasn’t your average highschool rich girl. Though she would often go on regular shopping sprees and refuse to wear anything that wasn’t designer (unless it was Bea’s clothes), she never treated Bea any differently than how others would. She was a bright girl, who was loving, friendly, fierce when she needed to be and extremely loyal. When it was just her and Bea she could show her true self, not pretend to be someone she’s not or play a certain role, she could just simply be Poppy instead of Poppy Min Sinclair. Poppy often felt the gravity that came with her name, especially since that’s all her father pressured her to be, a Min Sinclair.

Hayden Min Sinclair, Poppy’s father, owned an entire empire of companies, differentiating from technology based businesses to architecture and finance. To say he was a businessman was putting it lightly, he was almost like a god or at least someone who was highly worshipped by business moguls. He built up his family’s name and within a decade he was a force to be reckoned with. Hayden Min Sinclair worked his ass off to lift his companies off the ground because as a person of colour he knew he would have to work 10x harder to get what he wanted. All he ever wants is life for his daughter to be easy, the irony is, that he’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard.

He’s a man of honour and pride and has never expected anything less from his daughter, hoping she would keep the dignity attached to the Min Sinclair name and bring it to new heights. So his traditionalist and conservative views means that he’s expecting Poppy to marry a man, who’s also an aristocrat, in which Bea is 0 for 2 for Poppy’s father’s expectations. Hence, Bea and Poppy have to keep their relationship a secret, a way to protect both Poppy and her future but also Bea from Mr Min Sinclair’s wrath. Reputation means everything to the Min Sinclairs and to Mr Min Sinclair specifically, especially after Poppy’s mother passed away when Poppy was 10 after an unfortunate incident of a drunken hit and run which left Poppy permanently broken from the loss of her mother but had all the socialites gossiping about the tragedy for months. To this day Poppy and her father still mourn her loss and Poppy often turns to Bea for comfort, for her companionship could provide the means of making her forget the empty presence of her mother that was left behind.

They’d known each other since they were 7, when Bea used to live in the very same neighbourhood after the Min Sinclair’s moved into the neighbourhood, and they spent almost every waking hour together, attached by the hip. They were the best of friends and almost nothing could get in their way. Emphasis on the ‘almost’.

When Bea’s father left Bea’s mother, Isabella when Bea was 8 and her sister Aria was 2, after finding out that Aria wasn’t his child as a result of a one night stand Isabella had, Bea’s family struggled to afford to live in the neighborhood especially since Bea’s father was the breadwinner of the house and their main source of income. After a series of bad decisions resulting in Bea’s mother losing her job as a banker, the 3 girls were forced to move to the south of Greensburg since it was the only thing they could afford.

Bea and Poppy were still inseparable at this point, either Bea would take 2 buses to go to Poppy’s house or Poppy would call the family’s driver so she could go over the Bea’s. The breaking point for their friendship was the day when Bea’s mother once took the girls to the park when they were 11 and after she had gotten so intoxicated to the point she threw up in front of all the children, and Poppy’s father prohibited Poppy from seeing Bea again.

“That girl and her family will bring shame to our family’s name, imagine what your mother would say” Poppy can still hear her father’s words ringing in her head from time to time, but everytime she looks at Bea, all her expectations would disappear and she would just simply be happy.

They began dating when they were 14, after Poppy had managed to scrounge up all her courage to kiss Bea on valentine’s day, after the two girls had snuck away to a diner to hang out like they would usually do. Poppy looked as if she was going to pass out from embarrassment when Bea didn’t reciprocate the kiss at first, however in Bea’s defence she was more startled than anything else. When Poppy was about to apologise Bea moved in and gave Poppy a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips and from then they decided they would be together. Bea couldn’t believe her luck when she was able to call Poppy hers, she felt like she didn’t have much to offer Poppy as she had yet to have earned the scholarship to Belvoire, the same school that Poppy had been attending. As well as coming from a troubled family life she didn’t want to implicate Poppy in any way but staying away from her had proven to be too difficult.

The consequences of their forbidden love was much harder on her than it was on Poppy, still nevertheless she would do anything for Poppy, which was proven time and time again when they have to act like strangers at school. In spite of that, the stolen glances, the stolen moments, the stolen kisses, it made it all worth it.

“Are you ready for school tomorrow” Poppy’s soft voice vibrated against Bea’s chest.

Bea lets out a soft chuckle, “What do you think Pops? I’m the school’s lonely girl”

Bea’s reputation at Belvoire could not be worse, in a school filled with entitled brats, it was difficult for her to make any friends considering her economic background. She also couldn’t rely on Poppy and her popularity since she couldn’t be within any vicinity of the girl she loves. Bea and Poppy’s friends had a history of not getting along, and since Poppy couldn’t allow the true nature of her relationship with Bea to come to light, Bea had to deal with all sorts of harassment and bullying from them. Bea often had to remind herself that she was only a target because with money comes a lot of entitlement, especially from snobby teenagers. Moreover, the consequences of her mother’s actions also didn’t help Bea as the stories followed her everywhere, causing all sorts of rumours to spread like wildfire.

Poppy lifted her head slightly to look into Bea’s eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant it’s the last year of highschool, that means one last chance for us to win nationals and for you to come on top for volleyball.”

As mentioned beforehand, the extra curricular Bea chose to partake in was volleyball, not only did being part of a winning sports team look good on a college application, it also helped Bea with releasing her pent up anger and dominating her competition. Her favourite thing in particular was the smaller group of cheerleaders, including Poppy, who were at every game after Poppy made a compelling argument to the principle about the importance of raising school spirit in all sport related inquiries. Bea would often steal a glimpse at Poppy, who always came up with extra dance moves and cheers, sending secret messages that she was rooting for her girlfriend.

“One more year of highschool, do you know what that means Pops?” Bea smiled devilishly at Poppy who returned the smile and leaned her face in, lips ghosting around Bea’s.

“Why don’t you remind me?”

Bea grabbed the blonde’s waist and stole a quick kiss, “One more year means that next year we’ll both be in New York, and we can finally be together for real”.

“I can’t wait to live off campus with you, we should start looking at places now so we can get ahead and find a good place sin-” Bea cuts her off with a kiss while Poppy smiles, “I hate when you interrupt me with kisses”

“No you don’t”

“You’re right I don’t, but you better not slack this year Bea Hughes otherwise I’ll beat your ass if you don’t get into Columbia”

“I would never, I’m literally a better student than you babe. I would say you shouldn’t slack either but we all know daddy’s going to help you get into NYU.”

Poppy playfully slaps Bea on the arm who just laughs, “hey, no way in hell am I going to use the Min Sinclair name like that, when” (she made sure to put extra emphasis as she spoke) “I get into NYU it will be because of how amazing and talented I am”

“Not to mention damn right gorgeous and smart and incredibly flexible”

Poppy moves to straddle Bea, hands on either side of her head and she leans in, “hmm, you think the admission office will be looking at those particular things?” her tone teasing and inviting.

Bea attempts to move her head up only for Poppy to quickly place her perfectly manicured hand around her neck and push her down, Bea’s eyes flash as her voice pulsates with desire, “well I’ll definitely be looking, for educational reasons of course”

Poppy breaks out into a wide grin as the girls share a passionate kiss, tongues tangled together as they fight for dominance, Bea tries to envelop Poppy’s entire mouth with her kiss but Poppy’s unrelenting perseverance pushes through as she tightens the grip around Bea’s neck, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Bea succumbs to Poppy’s kisses and allows the blonde’s tongue to explore the inside of her mouth, getting lost in the wave of pleasure that emanates from Poppy’s lips.

After a few more kisses, Bea looks at the digital clock sitting on top of Poppy’s dresser, “damn it’s getting late I should go”

“Wha- it’s barely 10 o’clock”, Poppy pouts as her eyebrows furrow slightly.

“I know” Bea places a hand on Poppy’s face gently brushing against her cheekbone, “but you need your 8 hours of sleep and I gotta make sure everything is ready for Aria tomorrow”.

Poppy sighs defeatedly as she knows how important Bea’s half sister is to her, she’s practically an older sister to Aria and is also incredibly protective of her too. “Well tell Aria I said hi”

Bea moves to stand and Poppy grabs her hand, “wait, you didn’t tell me, how’s your mom?”

Bea nonchalantly shrugged and gazed at the floor, “same old, same old, she drinks herself into oblivion not giving a shit about the rest of us”

Poppy rubbed comforting circles on Bea’s hand, “don’t worry Bea one day it will get better”

Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I’ve been saying that for almost 10 years”

She stalks over to the window and lets half of her body hang out ready to reach out to the tree, Poppy moves over and gives Bea one last lingering kiss, “You know you can use the front door, my dad’s not here”

“Yeah I know but it’s always so awkward when I run into Rita at this time because she knows that I’m screwing you”, Bea smiles while Poppy raises an eyebrow

“Screwing me?”

“Sorry I meant making love to you” she gives Poppy a quick kiss

“Much better, and anyways Rita doesn’t care, she’s been rooting for us this entire time”

“It’s okay, don’t worry P, I’ve been climbing in and out of these windows and over that gate for years, how else do you think I got these muscles”, she flexes her toned arms while Poppy runs a hand over them, “I love you”

“I love you too”, Poppy watches as Bea moves out of the window, gripping the tree and making her descent, “wait” she shouts down, “where did you leave your bike?”

Bea smiles up at her, “I parked it a couple of blocks away from here it’s fine, I’ll text you when I get home” she blows a kiss to Poppy and begins making her way over the gate and into the street which shone bright from the lampposts. Poppy sighs and closes her window and begins getting ready for bed until a knock at her door catches her attention. Rita, her nanny and keeper enters the room and looks at Poppy with a knowing glance, ‘Bea didn’t want to stay for dinner?’

Poppy laughs slightly and shakes her head, “no she had to get home to make sure her sister is okay”

Rita leaves a plate with a few cucumber and cheese sandwiches on the dresser, “don’t stay up too late Miss Min Sinclair,” and with that she gives a little wave and leaves the room closing the door behind her. After eating half of her sandwich and going through her extensive nighttime routine, she receives a text from Bea

💖 B

Just got home now

Love you and goodnight my love

Poppy smiles at her phone and then sets her phone on her dresser, not before putting it on charge, and drifts off to sleep.

Bea on the other hand was wide awake. When she safely parked her motorbike near her house and texted Poppy as she entered the house. She looked up from her phone into the dark room to see the tv quietly playing while her mother was passed out on the couch with a half drunk bottle of vodka on the table. She moved towards the couch covering her mom with a blanket and then went into her bedroom to check on her sister who was soundly sleeping in her bed. Bea headed into the kitchen took some cold pizza from the fridge and did some last minutes checks to make sure both her and her sister were equipped and ready for school tomorrow. She settled in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about school and how challenging the first day back will be.

read part 2:

#playchoices #queen b #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair

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