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#To assure them that it was all a misunderstanding
evergone · 3 days
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Misunderstandings
Ominis Gaunt x Reader (Jane Austen inspired)
Warnings: some angst, drinking.
Description: Ominis and the reader broke each other's hearts as teenagers. When they meet again as adults, the reader disguises herself as Natsai's cousin and they fall in love all over again.
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Shoo-ing your friends away and promising each of them that you would not be long, you sat down in a quieter room adjacent to the ballroom to catch your breath. If you had to dance with one more minister or minister’s son you may well have danced yourself to death. You held your fan to your breast and fluttered it rapidly in the hopes to find some cool air in the cramped heat of the Minister for Magic’s yearly ball.
You reached for a glass of white wine from a passing server and allowed yourself the mercy of a long sip unfit for a gentlewoman of your blood. The glass came from your lips with a grateful and exhausted sigh as you turned into the table you were at and placed down your fan.
A man was sitting on the other side of the table with a distant look. His hair was bright, his skin fair, and when you attempted to catch his gaze (a fruitless action) you noticed his eyes were a cloudy sort of grey-white. He was sitting in bored silence beside a brunet man far too engaged in conversation with a woman in purple to notice his poor companion was nearly falling asleep.
“Sir, are you quite alright?” You inquired over the music being played by the young lady behind the pianoforte.
The man’s grey eyes searched for your face in vain, never landing and just moving quickly around your general space. It was an action that seemed quite familiar, and suddenly you recognised the man as Ominis Gaunt. During your Hogwarts days he had been one of your closest friends, and the object of your affection. You had ended your friendship on bad terms, and had your heart broken. On realising this, you were frozen with terror.
“Please, I suffer from blindness, my apologies that I cannot look at you when you speak to me,” said Ominis and you managed to squeak out a soft acceptance of these apologies, “This ball must be wonderful, but with my companion occupied there is not much for me to do. Never mind me, though — How is your night, Miss…?”
“Onai!” You lied, using your dear friend’s name to mask yourself from him, “I am Miss Onai.”
“As in Natsai Onai? Your voice is familiar, but I did not think…”
“Oh! She is my cousin,” you cringed as you said it, but anything to draw suspicion away from you, so you thought up the first Shona name you could think of and used that instead of your real name, “I am Tsitsi Onai. Natsai’s father’s brother’s daughter.”
Ominis’ brow creased with a frown, but he accepted her word as truth and you let some tension release from your shoulders. A quick glance to his side, and you gathered that his companion must have been Sebastian Sallow, a man whose sight was not so impaired that he could have mistaken you so easily for someone else. His presence was a danger to your lie.
“Well, I really must be going, sir,” you said as pleasantly as possible through the stress, then you stood up.
To your dismay, Ominis rose, too. It was manners and respect, is all, or at least that is what you tried to assure yourself as he circled the table to be slightly closer to you.
“You remind me so much of an old friend of mine,” he said, “Please, would you do me the honour of a dance?”
He held his hand out towards the direction of the music leaking in from the ballroom and you cursed good etiquette for forcing women to dance with every man who asked, and then you cursed yourself for ever leaving the floor in the first place. You obliged his request, and led him into the ballroom by slightly tugging at the cuff of his sleeve. He had not even bothered to tell Sebastian where he was going, and your heart panged with concern that they would never find each other again and you would end up stuck caring for Ominis until the end of the night.
The music slowed slightly as you reached the ballroom floor and his hands took their dutiful places. Dancing in itself was not a sensual touch, but even so, he touched you with such delicacy, such gentility, that you could not help but wish his hand was slightly firmer. It seemed it was not him touching you, but his shadow. Had he known who you were you would have teased him, and elbowed his hand until it was gripping at your waist as if you were the only thing stopping him from falling from a great height.
As you began to dance, conversation flowed somewhat freely. So far from anyone you knew, there was no fear of being exposed to him. You would enjoy yourself, you decided.
“You know my name, sir, but what is yours?” You asked, and he introduced himself, “I think Natty has spoken of you.”
“Goodness, you must tell me what she has said. If I have reflected poorly, I would be mortified,” he said with a flustered blush on his nose.
“Either she has not spoken at length, or I do not listen to her enough to remember anything of import. You must tell me of yourself so that I might build my own judgement,” you smiled.
“Truly, there is not much to tell,” he said modestly, “I was educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (this is how I know your cousin), and I am apprenticing to be a barrister currently.”
“And what of your hobbies? Do you fancy gardening? Music? A good game of whist?” You said.
“Recently, I have become a fan of the opera,” he explained, “My companion, Mr. Sallow, is learning Italian, so we saw Otello in London and he translated as best he could. I have seen the play, so I understood what he did not, and I much enjoyed it.”
“Molto bene! I love the opera!” You nearly grinned with excitement. “I am no enjoyer of Otello — It is regrettably muggle in its racial concerns… But I saw Faust in Paris and it was wonderful!” He nodded along as you spoke, hanging on to every word that left your mouth. “I think that performance is the magic of muggles.”
“How incredibly insightful, Miss Onai,” he said thoughtfully and you blushed, “I must agree. Wizards can perform, certainly, but we do not know art like they do.”
Soon after, the dance ended. You and Ominis exchanged bows, and you politely led him back to Sebastian. You left with a quick good-bye without much decorum at all so as to avoid being seen, but not before you gave him the address of the townhouse you were staying at with your “cousin” and friends. What did you intend to gain by giving him the address? Of this, you were not completely sure. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped he would call on you.
The next day, Ominis awoke with three things: a start, a headache, and a realisation. The first of these things made him gasp and place a hand on his chest, the second made him groan and order his house elf to fetch him some water, and the third made him drop his water all over himself and run into Sebastian’s room without any warning at all.
The poor brunet squinted as his friend drew back the curtains and let the sun pound in through the window. There was no clock in his room, but Sebastian could tell it was much too early for him to be awake. He voiced this complaint, but Ominis cared not, so Sebastian dropped back into his pillows and let his friend speak.
“My good man, I think I fell in love last night,” he said with wide, unseeing eyes.
This made Sebastian sit up again, this time with a curious raised eyebrow.
“Ominis,” he started, “For the last — What? Three years? — For the last three years, you have been whining about how Y/n L/n from school broke your heart. I have not heard a man so adamantly declare that he would be a bachelor for life as you. Yet, today, on this eighteenth of April, you tell me you have fallen in love!”
There was a sense of disbelief in Sebastian’s speech that made Ominis sigh deeply. He sat down on the edge of Sebastian’s mattress, and tried his best to stare him seriously in the eye (Sebastian laughed at this, grabbed Ominis’ head, and positioned it correctly).
“She was just like Y/n,” said Ominis.
Sebastian rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, knowing he was safe from being seen, but Ominis felt the movement in the air and slapped Sebastian’s arm in annoyance. Sebastian hissed and slapped Ominis back. They were as immature in adulthood as they had once been as boys.
“Well, then it was good it was just one night!” Sebastian frowned.
“I have her address,” Ominis admitted in a state of pure bliss and Sebastian threw up his arms in defeat, “I am going to call on her.”
“Do not call on her!” His nose was scrunched up in disgust.
“You should have heard her talk, Sebastian! I was so entranced that I thought she was Y/n. She sounded exactly like her,” Ominis said.
“Are you sure it was not the ghost of loves past?” Sebastian teased, “Should we be on watch for a jolly bearded giant now? And what after that? The phantom of loves yet-to-come?”
“Do not jest,” Ominis scoffed, “This woman is a needle and thread. She has sewn my heart back together.”
“And what is this seamstress’ name?”
“She is cousin to Natsai Onai, her name is Tsitsi. Is not it as beautiful as she?” Ominis mused lovingly.
“I have not seen her, so I cannot attest to her beauty,” Sebastian said, unconvinced, “In fact, you have not even seen her.”
Meanwhile, in your townhouse, you were anxiously pacing in the parlour. You had been awake since you arrived home, the jitters not offering you a minute of sleep. One of your house elves, the first to wake, had found you writing in your diary in the earliest hour of the morning and suggested you take a bath and get ready for the day in a well-meaning, but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to calm you down.
Finally, Natsai, Poppy, and Imelda awoke, and the house elf ushered them into the parlour as quickly as they were dressed. Imelda carried a cup of tea in with her, a scowl already plaguing her otherwise handsome countenance. Natsai and Poppy, on the other hand, wore looks that only read as confusion.
“Have you not slept, my darling?” Natsai asked and you shook your head vehemently.
“Oh, dear! Y/n, go to bed, please! You cannot go about your life exhausted,” Poppy said, placing a hand on your back as she tried to lead you to your room.
“Girls, I am not tired,” you said and sat Poppy down on the couch, “I have the most exhilarating, horrible, interesting, wild information to share with you about my time at the ball last night.”
This made Imelda’s ears perk up and her scowl softened slightly.
“I danced with Ominis Gaunt.”
“What?” Imelda gasped, placing her tea in her lap, “And you did not immediately tell me this in the carriage home?”
“I was far too flustered to speak about it then, Imelda!” You exclaimed, “He did not know it was me.”
“How did he not know? He may be blind, but he is not stupid — nor is he deaf, he must have recognised your voice at least,” said Imelda.
“I disguised myself as Natsai’s cousin, Tsitsi—”
“— I have no cousin Tsitsi,” Natsai interrupted.
“Well, you do now, and it is I,” you said firmly.
“How did you fool Mr. Sallow? I assume Mr. Sallow was with him?” Poppy asked, her attention entirely encapsulated by the scandal of the conversation.
“Nay,” you replied, “He did not see me. I fear I have trapped myself in a terrible lie, for I have yet again fallen in love with Ominis and know not how to tell him.”
“Yet again?” Imelda cackled, “You never fell out of love with him, Y/n. This is a continuation of love!”
“This conversation is all for naught,” Natsai said matter-of-factly, “He does not know it was you, he does not know where you live, so you will not see him again. Do not forget how he broke your heart, Y/n. Do not allow him to take hold of it once more.”
“Natsai,” you said gravely and she frowned in concern, “I told him our address.”
Natsai scoffed in a mixture of disgust and disbelief, and circled to the back of the couch so she could stare at the wall behind it instead of at your face which appeared to her in that moment as the face of a traitor to your own emotions. She could not fathom how you could be so easily deceived by your own heart (the very same heart which had not three years earlier been torn to shreds) to fall once again in love with Ominis Gaunt.
Had you forgotten how he betrayed you? How he strung you along for years like a guitar stuck playing a sad song? Had you forgotten how you ran to her in tears? To Natsai, it was only yesterday that she held you in her arms as you wailed that he was leaving you.
“I will not watch you carry the pieces of your heart back to him,” she said in a stern tone.
“My heart rebuilt itself the moment I saw him,” you told her.
She opened her mouth to say something more, but there was a knock at the door that made all four of you go silent. Your eyes made contact with Natsai’s first, but then moved over to Imelda’s as she shouted for one of the house elves to go see who was there. A little elf scrambled to the door and you faintly heard her talking to someone before she returned.
“There is a gentleman here for Tsitsi Onai,” said the house elf.
The frown on Natsai’s brow deepened, but you ignored her and went to the entryway. Ominis stood there in his day attire, fiddling with his cravat like he used to do with his tie at Hogwarts. He looked absolutely spectacular. Beside him was Sebastian, who stared at you as if he had seen a ghost, and then quite loudly announced your name, exposing you to Ominis.
“Ominis,” you said and his brows furrowed as he put two-and-two together.
You and Ominis were given space in the study while the girls entertained Sebastian in the parlour. The silence in the room was so quiet and all-encompassing that it seemed to make the room sharp and cold. Ominis was seated on the big leather chair while you leant against the desk with your hands folded in your lap.
“You lied to me,” he said finally.
“I was scared,” you admitted, “We did not leave on good terms. And to be truthful, I tried my best to escape you last night, but good manners kept me shackled to you.”
“Shackled?” he scoffed, “Well, I apologise that you had such a horrible time with me.”
“It is just like you to take that personally,” you rolled your eyes, “You had the blessing of ignorance, but I had to pretend as though everything was fine. As though I was not dancing and conversing with a man who could not care less about me.”
“It was not I who destroyed our bond,” said Ominis.
At that, you laughed loudly and sarcastically. You could not think anything but pure rage at his audacity.
“It was not I who invited you to the most romantic night of your life just to tell you that I was moving hundreds of kilometres away,” you said with venom on your tongue.
“I was going to propose to you that night!” Ominis’ voice raised and he stood up so he was facing down at you, “You kept asking me if I had some lint in my pants because I would not cease shoving my hand into my pocket — the ring was in there! And I thought that if you loved me you would ask me to stay.”
“I do love you! That is why I could not ask you to give up your career for me!” You shouted at him, your arms thrown wildly to the side, and tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
All time stopped. It did that excruciatingly painful thing where it drew itself out like a rubber band so that one second became one minute and one minute became one hour and one hour became a whole day. And then, once it felt like a week had passed, time started again, and you were right where you left off — attempting to breathe through your sobs so that the blind man in front of you could not hear you crying, even though you could see the tears on his cheeks.
“You love me?” Ominis asked.
“You were going to propose to me?” You said.
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celepom · 6 months
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No, you don't have to accept an apology from someone who wronged you. Especially when the apology is obviously for THEM and not for you.
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malewifesband · 1 month
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it is insane, crazy, nuts how good for kabru being friends with laios is on multiple levels
he has to be honest and direct with laios to communicate. laios is so so earnest and thoughtful to him, and genuinely shows him affection thru food (and kabru cant cook or care for himself) with the harpy omelette (despite the um. misunderstanding between them), promising to take him to a restaurant as a sign of how sincere he is about being kabrus friend now, and kabru returns that favor by not just helping the faligon, but eating it, and staying to eat it until its almost done even though laios assured him he didnt have to. he can get angry with him and not feel like hes fucked it all up by showing his real emotions. something about laios puts kabru more in touch with his deeper desires--he acts in ways he doesnt understand around laios, betrays himself to his conscious mind, because he wants to badly to put his faith in laios and laios did not let him down, not where it mattered. he gets to take on a job laios cannot do for himself as prime minister in training where his skillset is valuable and he can indulge in work that really interests him and it will always be appreciated deeply by not only laios but the whole nation theyre building. for as long as laios is around, he never has to worry about monsters hurting him or his home--and laios is actively working on building a world where monsters can be made tamer through knowledge about them, and has already defeated kabrus biggest fear, the dungeon. laios gives him a safe context to conquer his fear of monsters at his own pace rather than forcing himself into traumatic situations where he dies all the time
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all4yoi · 2 months
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only you
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !
after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.
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★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)
the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.
after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.
he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.
heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.
spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.
and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.
"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.
heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..
because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.
feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.
shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."
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other members utc!
★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)
3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.
jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.
so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.
jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.
he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.
the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.
call him cliché but you were the only one for him.
"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"
"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.
jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.
"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"
"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.
"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.
i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.
you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."
he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."
★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)
the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?
after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.
"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.
after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.
you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.
"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.
"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.
you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.
"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.
there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)
to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.
he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.
he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.
but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.
sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.
not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.
"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.
sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.
"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.
he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."
he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.
"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."
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hazyhae · 4 months
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rose bud | jjh
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stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun x fem!reader
summary: friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.
wc: ~9.2k 18+ mdni
cw: angst, eventual fluff, weed/alcohol use, sexual activity under the influence, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected pinv sex, nipple play, baby + pretty + angel as petnames, jaehyun calls reader "my girl" once, different positions, misunderstandings, jealousy, a lot of cursing, oral (receiving), reader borrows clothes from members, explicit sex descriptions, pining, jungwoo getting caught in the middle of everything
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
you walk into the dimly lit house, music blaring through the speakers and deafening chatter ringing through your ears as your eyes scan for your target.
a vaguely familiar face pulls you to the side to take a shot, which you gladly join in for, but you leave it at one as you continue on. you’d so much rather be mind numbingly high than drunk, and there was one person you knew to go to for just that.
you make your way further into the house, eyes landing on a corner of the living room when you see him - the backwards hat nestled on top of dark hair and dimples you could spot from a mile away.
you scan his surroundings, relieved that his only company is johnny, a friend you know well. johnny’s eyes meet yours and crinkle in recognition.
“__!” he calls, beckoning you to come closer. johnny gives you a quick hug before excusing himself, leaving you with the one you had been wanting to see.
“jae,” you smile, holding your index finger and thumb up to your lips. “you know what i’m here for.”
he rolls his eyes playfully. “whatever happened to hi jaehyun, how are you?”
you laugh and take the seat next to him on the loveseat he’s currently occupying.
“hi, jaehyun how are you, do you have my weed?” you bat your eyelashes at him.
“that depends, pretty, are you gonna let me be the luckiest man in the world tonight?” he mirrors you, putting on your same innocent look while batting his eyelashes.
you lightly smack his arm while he throws his head back to let out a deep, hearty laugh. he pulls his pen out of his pocket and hands it to you.
“hold onto this for now baby, left the j’s in my car. meet me outside in 10?” you nod, taking a long hit from his pen as you watch him disappear into the crowd.
how long has it been now since you’ve had this routine with him? you think back to the very first time you met the man at one of these parties, the only setting you really get to see him in.
at a party many months prior, you decided that your energy for getting wasted wasn’t as good as it used to be, instead opting for a chiller alternative - getting high. your best friend of many years, mark, had started this connection.
“…i’ve got bad news, dude.” you were one drink in and itching to smoke, but a look of panic in mark’s eyes after fumbling through his pockets told you all you needed to know.
“mark, really?? i knew i should have just grabbed them myself..” mark had left the joints he rolled at his place, where you two had pregamed before the party. luckily for you, he also had a solution.
“dude, i know a guy who’s always got weed on him. trust,” he assured you, leading you to the porch out front where you saw a few people gathered. you could already smell the pungent scent of weed coming from the huddle, and you trusted that mark knew what he was doing.
“thought i saw you out here jae, could we join y’all for a bit?” mark asked after dapping up the one you assumed was “jae.”
“i mean i guess, only cause it’s you, mark,” the man said, turning his sights to you. “but i don’t mind if your plus one joins too?”
“this is __. we’re just friends, but appreciate it bro,” mark quickly clarified. jaehyun nodded in understanding.
“i’m jaehyun, nice to meet you, pretty.” taking in the sight in front of you, you were met with his deep brown eyes, perfectly messy black hair, and lovely dimples for the first time that night.
he was really attractive and just your type, and with this along with the affectionate name right off the bat, you knew you were a goner.
after joining their rotation and meeting some other friends in the circle, you fell into a comfortable mood, conversations and laughs flowing. you found out jaehyun and a couple of his friends rented the house where you all were at, letting it be a regular party grounds.
you’d known a couple of people lived at that house, but you’d only met johnny, another host and one of jaehyun’s roommates, so it was nice to meet the dimpled man.
as the night went on, you were still aware of the presence of the new man next to you, maybe too aware, but you knew somehow in the back of your mind you would be seeing a lot more of him. now that you know your regular party spot was his house, you hoped so.
and to your pleasant surprise, you did see him a lot more. the next couple of parties, he always somehow found you, inviting you to smoke with him even without mark. you usually had brought your own weed, but you’re never one to turn down a free smoke, especially when he was always the one to seek you out.
he always seemed to throw in a flirtatious remark or a pet name that had your stomach in flips whenever you spent your time smoking together. you acted like you didn’t mind, but your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to keep your cool.
otherwise, conversations were always pleasant and comfortable with him, and you two just clicked.
at some point, you found yourself pocketing your own weed and going straight to jaehyun. you were getting more and more familiar with the butterflies in your stomach.
looking good, angel.
god, you hold your smoke like a champ, pretty.
i think i deserve a smooch for how good i rolled this for you, baby.
with each party, he got more and more bold, but never went beyond words. it sent a thrill through your being, making you crave his presence more and more. something about him infatuated you. you wanted to get to know him, to see if there was any room in him for you.
your curiosity was cut short as you quickly learned to dismiss his flirting as nothing more than playfulness once you learned more about him.
after all, it wasn’t a secret that jeong jaehyun was a player.
you had to learn this yourself by seeing him tangled with some random girl in front of your own eyes. the first time it happened, you remember how you stopped breathing for a second, the feeling of your stomach dropping far too uncomfortable.
you couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. you didn’t even know him that well, didn’t even know him outside of the low lights, burning alcohol, and smoke clouds. how could you think you were special? you learned then and you know now, and as time helps, it hurts less.
you got yourself up to date. you’ve heard the rumors about him around the different friend circles, and even know a few girls he’s hooked up with. who were you kidding?
whenever it happened, you always turned on your heel, pulling out your own forgotten joints, pushing down the disappointed feeling in your heart by finding another friend or two to get high with. the next party would roll around and jaehyun would come find you as if you weren’t completely gone from his mind the last time you shared space.
all feelings of disdain for him would fade with the sound of his deep, hearty laughter, and everything would continue on with the addition of you swallowing your feelings. he just wasn’t someone you could let go.
it’s been a while since you’ve been met with the unpleasant sight of his hands on another, but it’s happened enough for you to know.
you know better than to expect something like that between you and jaehyun. if you could just keep the role of his smoking buddy to yourself, then you were content keeping things the way they are. it’s easier.
it’s nights like these, however, when jaehyun’s actions make it hard.
a warm jacket is dropped on your shoulders as you step onto the house porch, meeting your friend as promised. jaehyun’s looking at you with his deep brown eyes, pulling the jacket’s hood over your head.
“don’t know why you always somehow forget to wear something that won’t get you sick,” he says warmly with a hint of a teasing tone. he’s done this more than enough times for you not to argue.
“no jackets went with the fit.. thank you though,” you thank him as he pulls out his array of joints. he looks through them under the dim porch light when he picks out one holding it in front of your mouth to take.
“you’ll like this one,” he assures. weed is weed, so you don’t think twice.
you grasp the joint between your fingers, and jaehyun lights it as you inhale slightly, watching the paper glow. you take a deeper inhale, holding it a few seconds before blowing out smoke and passing it back to jaehyun.
it is a little different than usual. a slightly floral taste and smell invades your senses, almost a little perfume-y but not unpleasantly so.
“what did you put in there?” you question, trying to decipher from the smell.
he grins, handing it back to you.
“mixed in a liiitle bit of dried rose petals to the grinder. you like?” he asks, but he knew you would like it when he packed it.
“i do actually, what made you think of doing that?” you fall back into your usual conversation with him.
“just thought you’d like it, nothin much to it,” he replies, taking the joint from you to ash it. “kinda romantic though, no?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
you laugh, letting the high carry the weight of his words from your heart.
“yeah def, the ladies are gonna loove this one,” you joke, masking any bitterness.
he looks at you for a second, gaze seeming to soften before turning to relight the joint, rotating it a few times to make sure it was burning evenly.
“nah, you know i don’t smoke with them like that,” he holds up the joint for you to take a hit. you let him hold it as you inhale slightly, and he brings it back up to his own lips.
“that’s why i’ve got you, pretty,” he muses, taking another hit. you can’t bring yourself to come up with a smart response, heart pounding as you change the subject to something random.
you try not to lose yourself to your thoughts, but you feel yourself go into autopilot. your body keeps up with jaehyun’s conversation as your mind dwells on his previous words.
you’re special to him in some way, and you’ll take it even if it isn’t exactly the way you’d want.
you finish the joint, letting it fall to the pavement as you stomp out its embers.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
the next time you come around, it’s a special celebration - a birthday rager for jungwoo, one of jaehyun’s housemates and another host of the house parties. jungwoo’s regularly in jaehyun’s rotations, so you’ve gotten to know the puppy-like man pretty well. meaning he is comfortable enough to put you in your current predicament.
“__, please please take this shot with me, it’s literally my birthday.” you showed up a little later than usual to the party because of work, but a tipsy jungwoo somehow caught hold of you before you could even get anything in you.
you give in, taking the shot, but the birthday boy is relentless.
“you need to catch up, okay?!” he hands you another double shot, whining as you look at him incredulously. as much as you cared about your friend, you were itching to find jaehyun. jungwoo’s next words make that itch stop.
“stupid fucking jae, ditching me to go mess with some girl.. it’s literally my birthday..” jungwoo pouts, pouring another shot for himself as well.
you still for a second. it’s just another one of those days, you remind yourself. it’d honestly been so long since you’ve run into him messing around with some random girl that you’d thought he might have changed.
but he hasn’t, and you’re not gonna let that ruin your night. deciding to come out of drinking retirement for tonight, you place your hand on jungwoo’s shoulder. fuck it.
“bottoms up, birthday boy.”
jungwoo smiles big, clinking his cup against yours before the two of you down your shots, swallowing down your feelings along with the alcohol entering your system. a couple more friends join you, including mark, and you soon find yourself more drunk than you planned to be.
jungwoo was a convincing host, getting you, everyone around you, and himself absolutely sloshed.
after multiple rounds of shots, a few drinking games, and a body shot between jungwoo and a red-head whose name you can’t remember, you’re wasted.
you end up in some bathroom with jungwoo and a few others, jungwoo throwing up into the toilet as you all bring him water and care for him to the best of your drunk abilities.
you don’t know how, but you get tasked with taking the birthday boy up to his room. you aren’t sure where his roommates are, but you can assume what one of them is up to. it makes your stomach turn.
pushing the thought from your mind, you head up the stairs with your lanky friend draped around your shoulders, somehow making each step.
the red-head, who you eventually remembered as yuta (after he told you), let you know his room was the second door on the left. you stumble into the room, letting jungwoo topple on the bed.
“woo, let me borrow a shirt, you spilled your beer all over me earlier.” he hums, but looking at him he’s already wrapped in the blankets of the bed, starting to doze off.
you go into his closet, not caring and still drunk, swapping your soaked shirt for a random long sleeve. you go back to check on him, sitting at the foot of the bed while chuckling at his light snoring.
“__?” a deep voice cuts through the room. you left the door wide open when you came in, still a little drunk to think clearly. you turn to see the one you spent all night trying to wipe from your head.
“oops, hi jae,” you greet, suddenly conscious of how drunk you might look.
“hi, what are you doing in my room?” he asks. your mouth opens, no sound coming out.
“is this not jungwoo’s room?? the second door on the left?” you question, embarrassment starting to sprout. jaehyun laughs.
“how much did you have to drink? can’t tell your rights from lefts?” you let out a gasp at this, hands coming to your face.
“ugh, why did they put me on jungwoo duty anyway?” you mumble into your hands. jaehyun enters the room, standing in front of your sat form. he looks at you for a second, leaning down slightly. your drunk mind jumps right way to something else, but jaehyun passes you to shake jungwoo.
“woo, get up. go to your own bed,” jaehyun says, shaking him awake. jungwoo grunts, eyes stubbornly shut, but he’s awake. “no more weed for a month if you don’t go to your room,” jaehyun tries again, and it works.
jungwoo springs up at the threat, stumbling out of the bed as you watch jaehyun help him to his feet. jungwoo slumps over jaehyun’s shoulders, similarly to how had done to you earlier, and you follow them across the hall to jungwoo’s room.
jungwoo lands on his bed with a grunt, seemingly falling back asleep almost instantaneously. jaehyun places a water bottle on his nightstand before turning back to you.
“nice shirt by the way,” he winks. you look down, forgetting what you were wearing, confused at his compliment when you come to the realization.
that wasn’t jungwoo’s room, so it wasn’t jungwoo’s closet. you aren’t wearing jungwoo’s shirt.
“oh my god jae, i’m so sorry, i’ll steal another from jungwoo’s closet and give you this one back ” you ramble, but he just leads you out of jungwoo’s room with a warm hand on your back, turning the light off and closing the door.
“just wear mine, it’s cool,” jaehyun says nonchalantly. “wanna smoke? i can pull out the bong,” jaehyun offers. there are still partygoers downstairs, but you don’t feel like joining them.
the sound of a freshly packed bowl is like heaven to your drunk ears, and you find yourself agreeing before you can catch it. you let the reason why you are only seeing jaehyun now this far into the night leave your mind.
you get to spend alone time with him, and it fills your heart with good feelings.
leading you back into his room, jaehyun closes the door behind you as you take in the room. when you brought jungwoo in here earlier, you weren’t focused enough to actually get a good look at everything.
“it’s cleaner than i thought it would be in here,” you decide to poke fun a bit. jaehyun rolls his eyes at you. he sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. you trust jaehyun, but being in his room for the first time is nerve wracking.
your eyes follow his careful hands as he pours some water from a bottle on his night stand into the bong, pulling the bowl out to add the ground leaves.
“how much did you really have to drink? do you need water?” jaehyun looks at you a bit concerned.
“i’m good, just haven’t drank this much in a while though. i think a hit of that might make me feel betterrr,” you point to the bong in his hands. jaehyun grins.
“anything for you, baby,” he says handing you the bong. you bring it to your mouth quickly as he flicks a lighter on to light the bowl. smoke slowly fills the bong and with a quick inhale you take in the smoke in an effort to try and hide the warmth on your cheeks.
“that’s my girl,” jaehyun murmurs proudly, in awe of how you know your way around a bong. your ears almost miss his praise, but it takes everything in you to not choke on the smoke you exhale. my girl. the words ring in your ears, and your cheeks are burning hot now.
you pass the bong back and forth for a while until your drunken haze has faded into a raging high, and jaehyun’s right up there with you.
you both watch as the other lights up, and jaehyun’s gaze shifts from where your hand grips the neck of the bong to your where your mouth meets its entrance.
there’s a moment of silence where he seems to be thinking before he speaks up.
“looks like you were having fun, sure you made jungwoo’s birthday so fun, downing all those shots with him,” he recalls.
“you were watching?? when you coulda just joined?” you question.
“was busy with a friend,” he replies curtly. it stings a bit.
“right,” you choke out, falling into a silence. after a brief pause, he looks at you with a gaze a bit too serious for his next words as the smoke clouds the room further.
“can’t believe your first trip to my room was with another man,” he says lowly. your eyes widen at this, and he keeps going.
“dunno, just thought the first time i’d bring you up here would be special, and with me.” he finds nothing wrong with his words, pondering as he looks up at the smoke.
“you wanted to bring me here?” you ask, finally letting yourself speak.
“yeah, why wouldn’t i?? you’re one of my best smoking buds, my rose bud,” he says and you recall his last custom blend for you.
“bud..” you say quietly. one of his buds, his friends. he was keeping himself busy with a friend earlier.
the weed creeps up on you as your mind thinks of a million different things, and its either you took one too many hits or there must be leftover alcohol in your bloodstream with the way your words leave you like lightning.
“would you kiss one of your buds?”
“what?”
“i mean, you’ve been kissing your friends, so i was wondering if i made the cut.”
his eyes slightly widen, yet still look so heavy as you make out their faint redness and glossed over look.
the high must have taken jaehyun too, and everything moves in slow motion as he crashes lips onto yours.
you’re amazed at just how good it feels to have his lips on yours. his lips are warm, moving slowly across yours as he deepens the kiss further, hands creeping around your waist. your eyes are shut tight and you feel like you’re seeing colors with how he’s taking your breath away.
when his tongue prods at your lips, you’re quick to let him in. everything feels like its burning, from your mouth to the place where his hands meet your hips. and you feel the unmistakeable burning from down below, too.
he kisses you, not letting up until you move to start to adjust yourself over him. his hands move to your ass, and you let out a gasp at his firm grip. you’re sat on his lap, kisses messy and getting deeper by the second.
his hands move to your hips pushing you down onto him as his hips jerk up, and you let out a sweet moan at his hard member pressing through his jeans into you.
his eyes open wide at the sound.
as if awoken from a deep sleep, the sweet sound that comes from you breaks jaehyun out of his lustful daze. he stops kissing you, hands moving back up to your waist to gently guide you back to your original spot next to him.
your disappointment is through the roof, and if not for the substances running through your body, the embarrassment could bring you to tears.
“jae? what’s up?” you try to set a lighthearted tone, hoping it’s not over, but jaehyun looks you at you with an apologetic expression.
“sorry, i went too far.. i’m kind of gone. we’re both really fuckin high, don’t wanna do something you’d regret.” he says in the same curt tone that dampened your mood earlier. “i don’t think we should be doing that.”
your breath catches at that last part.
you had wanted to cut him off, saying he didn’t need to be sorry and that you actually liked it and wanted even more. but he made it very clear he thought it was a mistake.
suddenly, you’re reminded that those same lips were on another’s not even a couple hours before yours, and it makes you sick to your stomach.
your mind starts to ask questions you don’t have answers to, but you’re not gonna let yourself sit in the shame of expectation.
you find your quickest escape route, acting as if you’re checking your phone for a notification.
“gotcha, okay. mark is texting me, he’s getting us an uber,” you say, getting off of his bed and scanning your area for any forgotten items. he seems to have something to say, but he keeps his mouth glued shut as you fix yourself.
“have a good night, jae.” you make your way to the door.
“see you next week?” he asks as you turn the door knob.
“maybe.” you walk into the hallway, silently shutting his door behind you.
for the first time since you’ve met, you hope you don’t see him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
from that moment on, you decided to do everything in your power to not be around jaehyun. as much as you’ve tried to justify his actions, you can’t. the rejection burns and just the sound of his name brings up the same queasy feeling.
you decide to skip the next few parties, but after a while you’ve been itching to be back in that atmosphere. you debate not showing up to the next party that rolls around, but mark catches you before you can hole up in your apartment.
“dude, you have to go, johnny would be so sad,” mark reasons.
johnny had gone back to his hometown for his own birthday and was gone for quite some time. once he came back, you heard he had thrown a small fit about jungwoo’s birthday rager. not only was he feeling left out since he missed it, he just knew he could throw an even better one. soon enough, he texted all the groupchats promising just that.
it was just like him to throw a birthday rager more than a month after his birthday. johnny was just as crazy, if not worse than jungwoo when it came to parties. you knew you would have a good time, but the lingering presence of jaehyun looms over your head.
“if i go, you need to stay with me, mark..” you tell him seriously. he scratches his head.
“you’re always the one ditching me to find ja-”
“i won’t do that anymore, let’s just go?” you interrupt him, silently praying he wouldn’t question you. he shrugs.
“okayy, whatever you say. we’re having a bestie joint tonight though okay?” you’re grateful he didn’t pry, and as the two of you head to his party, he lights up that bestie joint you promised.
as you exhale the smoke, watching it rise as you walk with mark, you’re grateful that it alleviates some of the tension you felt returning after being gone for a while.
you can hear music bumping from down the street, and once you reach the house, mark pauses at the sight of a vaguely familiar, yet beautiful girl.
“oh shit,” he says under his breath. “didn’t know she was coming tonight.”
you take a closer look as her face, and you turn to mark with a mischievous grin as you finally recognize her.
yeri. one of jungwoo’s coworkers who you met briefly at his birthday. you probably took a shot or two with her, but it was a bit of a blur.
mark, on the other hand, would not shut up about her on the uber ride home. he regretted not getting her number, and was too shy to ask jungwoo, so he hasn’t seen her since.
“markie-pooooooh.. go get your girl,” you tease him.
“fuck, dude i didn’t prepare my heart for this..” mark breathes in and out, calming himself.
“you’ve got this dude, and i can get myself home tonight so don’t worry!” you assure him.
he looks at you a bit worriedly. “but i thought you wanted me to stay with you, are you sure?” he truly is your best friend.
“we can do this anytime, i need you to get her number before i go and do it first,” you jokingly threaten, and mark gives you a quick squeeze before heading off to talk to her.
smiling to yourself as you see her light up at his presence, you walk into the house, just wanting to get a bit of alcohol in you before finding the birthday boy.
you are instead met with jungwoo, and he’s puppy-like as always. he gives you a big hug, swaying you back and forth in his arms. you can smell the alcohol on him as he gushes.
“__, my hero!!! my heroine?? whatever, it’s been so long, i thought i scared you off!” he looks at you, pouting his bottom lip. “thank you for taking care of me on my birthday, i swear i won’t be messy today..”
you laugh, breaking an arm out of his grasp to ruffle his hair. “it’s all good woo, i’ve just been busy for a bit,” you assure.
he’s quick to lead you to the kitchen to grab a drink and a shot or two. after catching up for a bit, he puts on a curious face.
“by the way.. can i ask you something?”
“you just did.” he rolls his eyes.
“ok anyways.. are you and jaehyun like, a thing?” he asks, and you almost choke on the drink you’re sipping on.
“wh-what? no, to me he’s literally just the weed guy,” you stutter out. you could have just said you were friends, but you said the first thing that came to mind.
jungwoo lets out a booming laugh at this, hysterical at the nickname “weed guy.”
“i’m soo dead, he needs to hear this shit, it’ll humble his ass,” jungwoo says between his laughter, holding his stomach.
“i already did.”
you both gasp and turn to the kitchen entrance, seeing jaehyun there with a flat expression.
immediately the drunk jungwoo starts hounding him, and your face burns. he was so much more than just the “weed guy,” but you know he probably could not care less.
jaehyun turns to you. it hasn’t even been more than a couple of weeks since you’ve seen him, but you missed him so bad. he isn’t wearing his usual hat today, leaving his black hair to fall over his forehead. his features pull into a glare.
“weed guy? i guess that makes sense from the way you always mooch off me,” jaehyun says a little too coldly.
you and jungwoo are speechless for a second, not sensing any joking tone from him. jungwoo laughs awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
“oh you don’t mean that, jae.. you missed her, i mean the past few weeks you’ve be-”
jaehyun turns on his heel before jungwoo could finish, and the two of you are left confused in the kitchen.
“why is he so pissy?” jungwoo asks, gasping when he turns back to you and sees the expression on your face.
your cheeks burn with shame as you recall all your past interactions with him. you had always been so eager to smoke with him, to see him. were you just annoying him this entire time?
if this was the first thing he has to say to you after rejecting you and leaving you out to dry, you really are not as special as you thought you were.
it hurts, and you can’t hide it.
“no, no he didn’t mean it!! he’s probably just stressed or something,” jungwoo panics.
as if on cue, the birthday boy who had somehow left your mind strolls in with a full red solo cup. johnny is clearly wasted as he lights up seeing you.
“why were you hiding out here??? you didn’t even tell me happy birthday,” johnny slurs as he comes to pull you into a hug. his long limbs are not coordinated as the alcohol runs through his veins, and one wrong step leads his cup flying onto you.
you stand there, shocked at the turn of events in the last 10 minutes, as johnny fusses over you. he hugs you as the alcohol seeps uncomfortably into your clothes.
“happy birthday johnny, i want you to have so much fun but i’m sorry, i’m gonna head home,” you tell him, trying not to make it apparent that you’re holding back tears.
“no, no, let me get you some clothes to change into,” johnny tries, but the party guests are already calling him back into the living room for another shot.
“it’s okay, i got it,” jungwoo butts in, having witnessed everything. johnny tries to argue, but the two of you nudge him out of the kitchen, wanting him to enjoy his night.
the walk up the stairs to the bedrooms is miserable, with you and jungwoo silent as you hold your arms around yourself. once you’re in jungwoo’s room, he hands you a hoodie and some sweats.
“i’m sorry, __, i shouldn’t have provoked him,” jungwoo apologizes, notably more sober than when you first saw him.
“it’s fine. i just don’t know what his problem is when he’s the one who..” you trail off, feeling the tears start to prickle at your eyes.
jungwoo pats your head as a few tears slip. you think it must be the alcohol, but you know you’ve sobered up. at his contact the tears just flow.
jungwoo is silent as he lets you cry, not wanting to push you to talk until you initiate it yourself.
your tears have stopped after some time passes, and jungwoo has not left. he places a towel he grabbed on your shoulders, and leads you to the bathroom attached to his room.
“maybe a warm shower would help, you don’t have to go back out there if you don’t want to. you can chill for a bit and i’ll call you an uber home later?” jungwoo offers.
you nod, grateful for his understanding. if only you liked him instead, maybe you wouldn’t be going through this. he’s here taking care of you when he could be downstairs having fun.
at your urging, jungwoo goes back down to the party. he promises to come back to check on you, and rushes down once he hears johnny announcing another house shot.
you peel off your soaked clothes, placing them to the side as you step into the shower. your eyes scan his soaps, landing on the body wash. opening it, you find it has a very woody, masculine scent, but you would take that over going home sticky.
the warm water really does make you feel better, and you spend a bit of time in there making sure all of the alcohol is scrubbed from your skin.
you hear the bedroom door open as you are wrapping up and turn off the water, assuming jungwoo came back to check in. you change into the clothes he gave you, taking extra care to wipe any signs of tears from your face.
to your surprise, the person sitting on the bed when you exit the bathroom is not jungwoo.
“what the fuck, jae? what are you doing here? where’s jungwoo?” you question.
“i should be asking you the same thing,” jaehyun bites back.
he takes in your form, skin looking refreshed from the shower and your cozy form wrapped in jungwoo’s clothes. his eyes darken.
“so is this your thing? just going into any dude’s room and stealing his clothes?”
jae’s eyes shift to jungwoo’s bedside table.
“so you and jungwoo are fucking now?” his gaze is piercing through you. in any other case you would be paralyzed by his stare, but it only makes you livid.
all you wanted to do was recover from what the very man in front of you did, and he’s putting you in the interrogation room? hell no.
“it’s none of your fucking business, jae.” you meet his gaze with your own. he’s silent, moving his eyes back down to a box resting on the table, and your eyes follow.
that’s why he thinks that. sitting there is a box of condoms, and it makes you feel extra guilty, knowing you’re probably cockblocking any plans jungwoo had for the night.
jaehyun’s deep voice cuts through the silence.
“was he good?”
“oh my god, why the hell are you even here?” he’s ignoring you, and he gets up and stands right in front of you.
“he must have sucked then, seeing that you’re still standing and he’s down there drinking his ass off with some random chick.” jaehyun has venom leaking from his words. what a hypocrite.
“as if you weren’t doing the same exact thing? we aren’t like that, so can you just get out?” you’re boiling at this point at his audacity.
“i bet i could do better, so much better,” he says and just like that you’re stunned at his words.
“what?” your voice comes out in a whisper, shocked at his implications.
he wraps his hands around your waist, moving backwards as he pulls you closer to the bed. the familiar scent of jungwoo’s body wash fills his nose, and he feels anger prick at the back of his head.
“i said, i could do you so much better, baby.” his gaze is the darkest you’ve seen from him. you’re still in shock to say the least, body on fire from his proposal and the affectionate name you’ve been missing.
he’s fully sat on the edge bed with you standing in his arms, but you don’t want to melt in his hands just yet, especially after what he put you through.
you take a step back, glaring at him. a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.
“oh yeah? i don’t know.. i’m kind of sore,” you rub your lower back for dramatic effect, challenging him to see his reaction.
jaehyun seethes, tugging you back into him, pulling you so he can lay a sloppy kiss to your neck. his hot breath is on you and you know he can feel your heart beating.
“he left you sore, but i’ll make sure you can’t even walk out of his room without me.”
with that, he angles his head up, lips molding to yours as he keeps a hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip.
his lips are familiar, but the way he kisses you is anything but. unlike the first time, which started out slow and a little unsure, jaehyun roughly kisses you now with hurried passion.
he flips the two of you over, hovering over you so that he can kiss you even deeper, and you can’t help but thread your hands through his hair.
the anger you felt before still remains, but even if you wanted it to, time away from him hasn’t changed the fact that you want him more than anybody you’ve ever met.
he slots a leg in between yours, pushing up against your core. it doesn’t help that you don’t have underwear on under the sweats, and you move your hips with him trying to get more friction.
breaking from you with a thread of saliva connecting your lips, he trails down your neck, leaving soft bites. he growls at the hoodie in the way, remembering that it isn’t his.
“arms up, baby,” he says, backing up a bit. you comply, and he pulls the hoodie off you, chucking it to the side not caring where it lands.
he lays kisses down your throat to your collarbones and leaves a particularly harsh kiss right above your chest. his mouth moves to your right nipple, tongue flicking it up and down as his other hand moves to knead the other side.
his hands trail down your waist, tugging at the waistband of the pants. he sits up to pull them completely off, reveling at your uncovered core glistening with arousal.
“on all fours,” he instructs, and you quickly flip over, pulling a pillow to clutch. he pulls your hips up, gripping your ass as he admires the view.
“naughty baby, one guy wasn’t enough? still so wet, he didn’t satisfy you?” he slides his fingers between your folds, circling your clit as you moan out.
he inserts one finger, wetness gushing around as you take it in, and he moves it around a bit as it reaches the base. just one of his fingers feels overwhelming, and he hums as he adds another, slowly pumping in and out.
“are you sure he fucked you right? you’re squeezing around me like crazy,” he makes his point with a curl of his fingers, feeling you clench tight around his digits.
his fingers move in and out faster and faster as you moan desperately into the pillow in your grip, hips moving with his fingers.
“bet he couldn’t even make you cum, pretty, want me to help you out?” he asks, fingers not slowing down in the slightest as his other hand reaches for your clit.
“j-jae, yes, please,” you groan into the pillow.
“then fucking cum,” he growls, and his hands move even faster and press deeper at your most intimate parts.
the pressure builds and builds in your stomach, jaehyun coaxing you along, and you cum hard around his fingers.
“jae, f-fuck, fuck!” you cry out as he helps you ride out your orgasm. his fingers leave your entrance with a wet sound, and your hips collapse at the lack of his support.
he gets up for a bit, and you hear a rustling sound. you peek over your shoulder to see jaehyun, stripped naked and lowering a condom you assume he grabbed from jungwoo’s box onto his cock.
you had gotten just a sneak peak of his size from how hard he was through his pants the first time you made out, but it did no justice to the real thing. he is huge.
he comes back to you, pulling your hips back up and slotting himself between your legs. you grip onto the pillow harder as he rubs his tip up and down your slit. his tip catches on your entrance and you gasp, legs tensing.
“jae, ‘s too much,” you moan out at the slight stretch.
“you can take it, all warmed up for me already,” he chokes out, inching his way to fill you up completely. his grip on your hips is bruising, and you know without his strong hold you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
he groans deeply, a sound that seems to come deep from his throat, as he bottoms out, and your eyes prickle with tears at the feeling. he gives you a second to adjust before pulling out fully to his tip, then thrusting back in harshly.
the motion sends you forward slightly, and the air seems to be pushed from your lungs. it feels so good, and you want more.
“fuck me jae, p-please fuck me, oh f-” you moan out, and he obliges, giving you another harsh, deep thrust.
once he’s bottomed out again, he pauses. you push your hips back into him, expecting him to start pistoning into you, but he lets out a sigh before pulling out of you completely.
your heart sinks.
“this isn’t how i wanted it to go..” he murmurs frustratedly.
the same feeling of disappointment and rejection hits you like a train, and this time you can’t hold yourself together for long enough to get out of there.
your shoulders are shaking from tears before you know it, and jaehyun’s face falls in realization.
“wait, wait, no, i’m sorry,” jaehyun starts, scooping you up into his arms at the sound of your tears. “give me a second to explain, baby.” you push at his chest.
“just say you don’t want to fuck me and go, jaehyun, save me the fucking humiliation please,” you let out between your sobs.
he tries to start talking, but you don’t let him, wrapping yourself in the bed’s comforter.
“you must be high, i must be fucking wasted to think you were serious, just like before.” you put your face in your hands, trying to calm yourself and catch your tears.
jaehyun grabs your hands away from your face, leaning in to give you a deep kiss. the kiss is slow and steady, more sweet and tender than any one you had shared before.
when he separates from you, you can’t speak. you have no idea what’s going on through his head, and you want more than anything to just go home.
“i’m more sober than i’ve ever been, please just listen to me. i didn’t mean it like that, ok?” jaehyun explains. you stay silent, and he takes that as his cue to continue.
“i want more than anything to fuck you, pretty, i wanted to back then and i want to now.” you start to speak, wanting to question him, but he continues.
“it’s just, i know i’m not exactly the, uh, most innocent person out here..? i mean- i’ve done a lot with different people, but with you… i couldn’t just do what i always do..” he admits.
you raise your eyebrows, still trying to understand what he’s getting across as your heart finds a new spark of hope that you desperately try to extinguish.
“i didn’t want you to just be a quick fuck, i still don’t. i want to take my time, to treat you like you deserve, and that wasn’t the time and place for that,” he explains, looking down at your hands in his with a guilty expression.
“..then why didn’t you say that?” you asked him, still trying to process. the spark of hope is burning hotter and brighter by the second.
“believe me, i wanted to.. but i was such a pussy about it, i kept telling myself i should wait to talk to you in person, and then you stopped showing up.” he grimaces.
“i’m sorry for acting like a jerk earlier, i wanted to apologize for all of this, but then i saw you going upstairs with jungwoo.. and then he came back down, and you didn’t,” jaehyun rambles, trying to articulate his feelings.
“you could never mooch off me, i’m actually happy whenever you come find me.. you know i always roll an extra joint or two hoping you’ll show up?” the tips of his ears redden at his revelation.
“i hope i’m not just the weed guy to you, because i think— no, i know you’re so much more to me than just that,” he confesses, finally looking you in the eye.
“i don’t know what you’ve got going on with jungwoo, but i don’t like it, at all," he concludes.
“and what about your friends?” you ask incredulously. it’s feeling a but too good to be true.
“i stopped fucking around a while ago, way before jungwoo’s birthday,” he assures.
“but.. jungwoo said-” you start.
“fuck whatever he said, he was drunk and i just wasn’t feeling social that night,” he recalls that night, wishing it had ended differently than it did. he squeezes your hands.
“i just know i could treat you so much better than jungwoo ever could, than anyone could, and i want to.” his eyes are softer than before, and you melt at his confession.
for the first time in a while, you are glad you’re both sober. you know that what he’s saying is all his own thoughts.
you come closer, wrapping your arms around him, restless heart now full of ease and excitement. “i’m not fucking jungwoo, i was just messing with you because i was angry,” you explain.
he wraps his arms around your waist, head falling onto your shoulder with a sigh of relief. “thank god.. i thought i was going to have to fight one of my best friends.”
you laugh, feeling your heart lighten, but you feel the unmistakable ache from between your legs. you got a taste of him, and you wanted it all now.
“so are you gonna show me just how good you can treat me? orr…”
“oh baby, say less.” he jumps into action quickly, pushing you to lie on your back.
he lowers himself between your legs, nipping at your thighs.
you get shy, and he sees you covering your face with your hands. he moves to grab them, holding your hands at your side.
“look at me, pretty,” he says in that deep voice of his, and the sight of him between your legs is unreal, hair falling over his pretty face. not breaking eye contact, he brings his mouth down to your core.
your legs start to close and he nudges them back with his chin. he gives you a few kitten licks, testing the water before diving in with the same passion he gave your lips earlier, slurping at your core messily.
he watches your face, contorting with pleasure as your hands strain at his grip, and he moves to lace his fingers through yours, not letting up at all as continues to lap you up.
you’re already sensitive from earlier, and he has you cumming in no time with a harsh suck on your clit and his thumb entering you shallowly. you’re dizzy from the orgasm, and he releases your hands.
as you catch your breath, he lays kisses all the way up until he reaches your face, pecking you all over. you feel his aching hard member at your thigh, and you want him so badly.
“can i fuck you now, baby?” he asks gently, hearts radiating from his eyes. “i’m so hard i could burst any second now.”
you laugh, still in disbelief that the man you thought hated you is now in your arms like a lovesick puppy.
“anything you want jae, i’m all yours,” you beam. at your words, the energy shifts completely and jaehyun is more eager than ever.
already slotted between your legs, he gives you big smooch before he sits upright to line himself up with your core. he lifts your hips up slightly, and starts to push into you slowly.
he moves his eyes from where your lower bodies meet to your face, watching how your expression shifts with each inch.
“i’m so happy i can see your face,” he muses, breath quickening as he bottoms out with a deep groan, “can see how good i fuck my baby.”
he moves a hand over your thigh reassuringly before holding your his in a firm grip. he starts moving his hips into you, and the pleasure of him reaching deep into you has your eyes rolling back.
“so g-good for me, and only me,” he chokes out with gritted teeth as he pounds into you. the sight of him above you is all too much — body illuminated from the dim warm lighting of the bedroom lamp, neck straining as his hooded eyes never leave yours.
the pleasure is so dizzying and the sight of him has you melting. you reach out your arms to him, and he too melts at the sight of you wanting him in your arms.
he moves over you so he can hold you, continuing to slam into you once you’ve gripped onto him. your nails scratch at his back as he hits a spot just right, and it has you seeing stars.
you shut your eyes tight as jaehyun’s hips snap into you hard, feeling pressure build in your stomach.
“ah, sh-shit, so close baby. look at me, baby, let me see you,” he groans out, moving to his forearms to hover above you while his hips do not falter in the slightest.
you open your eyes to see him, expression enamored as he bites his lip in concentration. his lips fall into a grin as he meets your eyes. you clench, feeling your heart fill with affection.
“cum for me baby, please, need to feel you cum around me before i fucking explode,” jaehyun grunts, voice deep and strained.
you nod, moving your hips up to meet his thrusts. only the sound of your moans, his grunts, and skin on skin fill the room, getting louder and faster until you cum around him with a loud cry.
he groans loudly at this, feeling himself finish the second your orgasm has you squeezing him too tightly. he thrusts shallowly, riding out both your orgasms as he holds you close, lips meeting yours hungrily.
as he comes to a stop, the two of you lay there kissing, just basking in the warmth of each other’s embrace. your lips slow against each other, and he starts to give you little pecks until you hear the creaking of the door. oh shit.
“__ are you o- WHAT. THE. FUCK.” a red-faced jungwoo stands there in disbelief. he’s clearly intoxicated, not knowing if this is a drunk dream. “really? in my fucking bed??”
you hide your face out of shame and jaehyun just smiles shamelessly from under his roommate’s covers.
“i’ll wash the sheets, just take my room,” he says nonchalantly.
“hell no, i’m gonna crash in johnny’s, this room better be spotless tomorrow..” with that jungwoo turns on his heel, slamming the door behind him.
“fuck, i think we really made him mad,” you say worriedly to jaehyun. you feel bad given how jungwoo had cared for you earlier.
“nah, don’t worry about it, we’ll make it up to him,” jaehyun muses, looking at you before pulling the covers off. he smiles big, dimples on full display, taking in your features and brushing a stray thread from your forehead.
you lean up to surprise him with a sweet kiss, and he returns it eagerly. he pulls back, beaming at you with a slight rosy red tint to his cheeks.
“actually, i need to end tonight with you in my bed and my clothes, so let’s take it back to mine.” he grins cheekily as he nuzzles into you, and you can’t help but smile.
“maybe let’s take a quick shower first?” you suggest, poking him in the side.
in a flash, he’s up, tugging you alongside him as you both make your way to jungwoo’s bathroom.
“whatever my baby wants,” he beams, lips meeting yours as he shuts the bathroom door behind him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
a/n: thank you all so much for reading and for everyone who interacted with the preview, hope you enjoy!!! i wanted to post this for 127 day, but it's coming a little late. hope everyone is taking care, shares and feedback are always appreciated! ♡
⋆ coco ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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oukabarsburgblr · 25 days
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honestly would love a continuation from the karasuno version, but like at the same time i want the seijoh version 😭😭
i cant choose huuu, tho whatever u decides to write im sure it'll be great (still tho karasuno continuation got me vv 🥴🥴)
Bullying the First Year Pt. 2 [ONESHOT] [HQ KARASUNO]
I'll give you both💜 but the seijoh part will probably take a few days since i dont want the seijoh ver. to be an exact replica of karasuno with diff names and i want to finish watching s2 so i can capture their character properly. I hope you enjoy!
FEATURING : DAICHI SAWAMURA, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, ASAHI AZUMANE x male reader
Continuation of Part 1! Set in Season 2 during Away Games. Drabble!
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NSFW stuff, DUBCON AF
Find out more under the cut!
"Ne, Sugawara...Looks like you guys finally got along with (m/n) huh?"
The setter who was drinking from his water bottle turned to Tanaka. The second year glancing at the male manager who was being harassed by Hinata about how cool his spike was. Sugawara only tilted his head in innocent faux. "What do you mean?"
Tanaka hummed as he swirled his bottle. "Well...usually you guys have this weird tension. And Daichi doesn't talk to him but yesterday I saw the captain and (m/n) walking home together and they looked like they were fine." Ennoshita chipped in. "So I wasn't imagining it. Asahi seemed like he always tried to provoke (m/n), but now they're okay with each other. Did anything happen between you guys?"
Tanaka and Ennoshita only asked Sugawara because he was the most approachable out of all the third years. The second years have noticed the beef between their manager and the seniors although they only discussed it in secret. Currently, they're at their away training camp in Shinzen and everything was running smoothly, albeit their losing streak and the fact that (m/n) couldn't make it to their first training camp in Tokyo.
It was weird to think that (m/n), who was not even a player meaning he had more time to study, had failed two subjects and had to take the supplementary exam. Although he denied the offer of riding to Tokyo with Tanaka's sister with Kageyama and Hinata in tow. Daichi didn't give much of a response, only saying he would talk to the (h/c).
That same night they heard Kiyoko scolding, and the beautiful manager never gets mad, but oddly Kiyoko was reprimanding the rest of the third years. Although they couldn't quite capture why was she mad but apparently it involved luring and trapping someone?
Sugawara's face didn't falter as he waved off their concerns, assuring the second years that they had a minor misunderstanding at the start of their introduction and it was all settled.
Free practice ensued as Karasuno went on with their respective goals, Sugawara and Daichi doing a synchronization attack with the others although Asahi was nowhere to be found.
"Sorry! Got caught up with something." The ace sheepishly entered the gym, looking eager and fresh to hit some sets. Nishinoya glanced behind Asahi to see a panting (h/c) who was all sweaty. "What were you doing, (m/n)? You looked like you did a major workout!" He teased the manager who only scrunched up his nose and limped his way to the rest of the managers.
"Huh? Is he injured or something? Why is he walking like that-" "Don't mind him! The night isn't going to be young forever. Let's practice!" Sugawara cut off Nishinoya's sentence as he pushed the libero towards the court, his eyes flickering to Asahi getting smacked by Daichi.
"See (m/n)! Told you, you would get along with us!" Hinata cheered behind the (h/c), who didn't say a word as he accompanied Hinata to the third gymnasium, where Kuroo and Bokuto is playing as well as Akaashi and Tsukishima. "Although it seems that you're more close to the third years than I am. Even though I've known them longer..." The ginger mumbled as he twiddled his fingers.
Again, the manager didn't respond as they entered the gym and (m/n) helped them by collecting stray balls and tossing it to Akaashi. Tsukishima would glance at him a few times before getting lectured by the Nekoma captain.
Daichi stared at the gym doors where (m/n) had exited before turning to Asahi. "...I told you to go easy on him." "Sorry. Got a bit excited. He's cute these days, all fidgety around us." "Do you want to blow us over? Cover your tracks, you idiot." Sugawara hissed as he jammed his elbow into the ace's side.
"The others said that we look like we're all getting along, especially you Daichi." The setter spoke as he ignored the crestfallen ace on the floor. "Really? I didn't think there'd be that much of a difference." The captain tapped his chin, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"You were the meanest out of all of us. I guess he was scared of you the most." Asahi propped himself up as he spoke, ignoring the glaring ravenette.
"...he's obedient now. I prefer it that way."
The setter only laughed as he waved them off. "I'm getting dibs on him in the showers. Don't you dare try to join us." He hissed at the two before hopping off to drag Tanaka into another set, leaving Daichi and Asahi to themselves.
If any other normal person would have listened in on their conversation, they would've been creeped out with how normal they spoke as they danced around the topic.
The boy manager of Karasuno, (m/n) (l/n) who has been reduced to a quiet footman for the seniors. Daichi wouldn't say 'reduced' but more to 'tamed'. It was known that the (h/c) is a brash person, especially around people his age but he would watch his mouth more around his upperclassmen...until he gets angry that is.
When Daichi first saw him stumbling through the gym doors, making a scene, he was quite annoyed, reminded of Hinata and Kageyama's first introduction. He thought it would be another rude junior that would ignore him and the obligated seniority but he was impressed to find that he was a reliable manager and an overall pleasant person to be around.
Maybe he was in a bad mood on that specific day, but he wasn't up for playing 'nice' nor welcoming someone new. His players were already a handful, especially the four idiots and he simply lacked the energy to usher someone around in the already socially established club.
Usually, he would apologise the next day, saying his head was clouded but he saw how annoyed (e/c) leered at him whenever (m/n) thought he wasn't looking or the silent curses he would mumble. That ticked him off and he was cold ever since. And when he found out they were neighbours-
"Daichi. Don't you think you're being...malicious to the new manager?"
The captain turned to the long-haired ace. He didn't respond, only raising an eyebrow to Asahi. Sugawara cut in. "What he meant was why are you acting like a little bitch to our new member? Ignoring him and stuff. The others are starting to ask." He teased the ravenette.
Daichi didn't say much, he only stared at his gym shoes and glanced to the (h/c) who was conversing with the second years. He scanned his figure, his eyes wandering a bit too long on his face and frowned. "He's rude." Sugawara wanted to roll his eyes and spite the captain.
"I want to ruin him."
Both Asahi and Sugawara immediately turned their heads to the captain who held a nonchalant look, a foreign expression for him, while still staring at (m/n). "...Or to see him cry, at least." "..."
The setter scoffed. "I always knew you were a sadist, Daichi." The captain only hummed as he knelt down to tie his shoelaces. "Don't act as if you're oh so innocent, Mr. Refreshing." "Shut up." He stifled a chuckle and stood up again.
"So are we gonna do it?" Asahi turned to glance at the (h/c), gazing at his glistening (s/c) and his fluttering eyelashes on his (e/c) eyes. Sugawara rolled his eyes. "I think he already started it." Daichi was silent, his eyes unwavering.
He didn't think much of it back then. Bullying was always a functioning outlet anyways.
Slaps of skin resonated through the small clubroom with a crying naked manager who was too aroused from the heavy thrusts he was receiving. His back was sore against the wooden table in the middle of the room and his throat was parched from all the screaming and wailing he had done.
"You're so adorable, (m/n)." Asahi groaned into the manager's ears, holding him down and kissing down his neck. The (h/c) only squirmed against the strong brunette, helpless against his ticklish facial hair as his hips stuttered against Asahi's. "-'s too much-ngh! Too much fu- achkk!"
He choked as the brunette sped up his motion, increasing his tempo as he felt his release. "You're our junior and manager, (m/n)." Sugawara cooed as he jacked off the (h/c)'s dick. "This is practically your job, don't you think? Helping us release some steam."
(m/n) wailed as he felt Sugawara squeezing him, he shivered as he felt his hole filled and Asahi biting into his shoulder. His pants were getting heavier as he placed his hand across his face. "I-I don't want anymore..." He whimpered as fingers shoved into his ass, digging out liquids that were stuffed deep into him.
Daichi trailed his fingers over (m/n)'s neck as he took Asahi's spot, pulling the (h/c) closer by his waist. "Be good and we'll play nice with you." Partially a lie, the captain was talking about himself. If the manager was compliant, then he'll be gentle. Not that he hated the contrary.
The manager only cried into his hands as he shakily nodded, not that they could see. "Please b-be gentle to me...Daichi- hiks!" He wheezed as the captain pulled him onto his lap, his naked thighs shivering and Daichi only gripped his hair, already holding his favourite spot.
The captain didn't say anything, only crashing his lips on the (h/c)'s who mewled against his mouth, Sugawara and Asahi smearing their hands all over the pair, drowning them in debauchery and temporary bliss.
Ever since then, (m/n) had been more quiet and polite, especially around the third years. Hinata was confused when the (h/c) mentioned about a study group and at that moment something clicked inside the (h/c)'s head.
He tried avoiding the trio truthfully, it wasn't that hard outside of club hours but he dreaded stepping inside the gym or the clubroom. Sugawara was a clever person, always whisking him away to fuck him under a staircase or asking him to stay after practice and would double penetrate him with Asahi inside the storage room.
He would walk home with sticky cum running down his legs or being cleaned by Sugawara who would take his time with him inside the school communal showers. Asahi would only bother him when he was frustrated, either from studies or not being able to hit his spikes right.
Daichi wouldn't join on their frisky escapades. But Sugawara knew that the captain preferred to be alone with the (h/c).
-
Training camp was over, Coach Ukai finished the debriefing and everyone was dispersing to go home in their respective ways in the late night. (m/n) cursed to himself as he accidentaly slipped on a rock. A hand reached out to stabilise him and the (h/c) glanced to see the captain pulling him up.
"Be careful. It's dark and dangerous right now."
They did live close after all.
"...Thanks." (m/n) mumbled as he pulled his arm back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continued his way. Daichi silently followed, two steps behind the (h/c).
Their relationship had progressed significantly, after...midterms. (m/n) didn't know what to call it. What he had with the other third years. And it was especially passionate with the captain.
(m/n) was sure his body would give out one day, or one of the second years would find out with how frequent they would pull him in an isolated area and was determined to make him cream his pants as much as he could. At first, he resisted and melted every time one of them would shove their deep fingers into his hole or fucked him nice and slow that would made all of his rebellion disappear.
Sometimes, he caught himself looking forward to those moments. Wondering when will one of his seniors pulled him so they could shove themselves into him, letting him drown in that sinful pleasure.
The grey area he was shoved into was suffocating and risky, but lust conquered all and it conquered him.
"Is anyone home?" (m/n) hadn't noticed that they had arrived at the front of his gates. He turned to see Daichi looking at him, the streetlamp next to them illuminating his handsome features. The captain rarely divulge himself with (m/n), not as frequent as the other two. The scariest of the third years definitely had something in his mind.
"..."
-
"Urmmff- mmng haa ah ah anghh!!" (m/n) moaned as he Daichi pounded his penis into the (h/c)'s hole that was so wet and puckered from the unnecessary amount of lube and fingering the captain did. He definitely appreciated foreplay.
Both of them were in (m/n)'s room, on his bed missionary and only the (h/c) was fully naked as Daichi immediately ripped off all of his clothings as soon as they stepped inside his room.
(m/n) wasn't sure why he let Daichi step in his house. His family was gone, visiting their relatives up north while (m/n) was away at training camp. He could've lied to the captain. Rejecting his advances although he wasn't sure it would be as effective but the fact that he willingly let Daichi enter through the gates of his home and let him follow to his room wasn't so much of a wonder.
Daichi huffed as he gripped one of (m/n)'s thighs, giving it a slap as he watch the flesh bounce from the impact. The (h/c) had his arms around the ravenette's neck as his legs was pushed upwards. His hole tightened around Daichi's cock as he cried when the captain began to shove himself in harder and deeper, going in as far as balls deep inside (m/n)'s puckered and reddened hole.
The captain gazed down at the (h/c)'s face, his eyes wandering and scanning his features as he felt his release nearing. "(m/n)." The manager huffed as his own (e/c) stared down black ones.
Daichi leaned down to kiss the (h/c), pressing his lips oddly in a gentle manner but pushing his legs to his shoulders roughly. "I think you should raise your tongue a bit more." The captain stated as he fucked the manager faster.
(m/n) stuck his tongue out with a confused face although his bottom was shaking from all the sex Daichi shoved into him. The ravenette licked and pressed his tongue all over (m/n)'s who was whimpering feverishly.
The (h/c) doesn't know what to do. What to do of him. What to do of them. But for now, all he could do was to play the nice little junior for them. He was also no longer allowed to show support for his cousin at any volleyball event.
Daichi pushed (m/n) into a mating press, making sure his cum filled the manager all the way in, not wanting for any of it to go to waste. The (h/c) whined as his own penis spurted white semen.
The manager could not see him running away from the third years any time soon.
[END SCENE]
[unedited]
Afterthoughts :
aftermath
I am literally falling asleep as I write this but I wanted to post it asap. I will fix it dwdw although I felt this didn't align with the first part very well. I'll add tags tmrw. Next up is Seijoh
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ghostofhyuck · 1 month
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NCT Dream when you don't talk to them for one week straight.
AN: Featuring husband! Dreamies because why not <3
Mark Lee
You were surprised to see Mark waiting for you in the living room. After a week of not talking to each other because of a huge misunderstanding, Mark became a ghost to you. Barely in the house and not even sleeping in the bed with you. He stands up, lets out a sigh and looks at you, "Let's fix this," you can sense in his tone that he's tired. He looks at you sincerely, waiting for your response whether or not, you're on the same page as him. "Okay," you simply said, nodding to give assurance to your husband. 
Huang Renjun
"I don't want this to be longer," Renjun blurted out. You two are having a dinner together even though you're not talking to him for almost a week. You stared at him, and you can see that he's desperate for you. The fight was intense and for the duration of the week, you two are walking on eggshells whenever each other are near. "Please love?" he pleaded. You only stared at him, reaching for his hands as you only look at him a small smile, giving him a small nod. 
Lee Jeno
"Jeno, what are you doing here?" you asked. He's standing in front of the doorsteps of the guest room --- which is where you've been staying for almost a week. Your husband only stared at you, there's longing in his eyes and your heart started beating fast. "I'm sorry," and tears starting to fall from your eyes. You ran towards him, crying hard. "Why are you apologizing, it's my fault! Don't say sorry!" Jeno only hugged you back. "I just need you now." he whispered. That's when you started apologizing for what happened, promising him that this won't happen again. 
Lee Donghyuck
"They know that we had fight," Haechan told you. The Dreamies went to your place for a dinner, and while there's a tension between you and your husband, the dinner went smoothly. Instead of answering him, you only gave him a deadpan stare, and before you could leave, Haechan was able to grab your hands. "Now, let's be mature and talk about what happened last week, maturely," he emphasized the words, 'maturely.' You only rolled your eyes but sat on the sofa, knowing that even you, wanted to put a stop to all of this. 
Na Jaemin
The wors thing about having a fight with your husband was that he'll be out of the country for a week. And during that week, there were no phone calls nor text from each other. It's driving you crazy, but you know that the fight started with Jaemin, so why should you be the one who'll talk to him first? The doors opened, and it was just a coincidence that you're sitting in the sofa along with Lucy. "I'm home," Jaemin announced. You only gave him a stare. "Can you now talk to me please?" He pleaded, and before you could answer, Jaemin hugs you. "I miss you so much." 
Zhong Chenle
"I know that we're not talking, but I made you dinner," Chenle said to you, and before you could react. He already left. You watched as he sat at the dinning table, not moving. You closed your eyes and wonder what the hell did you two fought about that you ignored him for a week. A week without Chenle, without his touch and affections, and as much as it was hard for you, you couldn't muster the courage to apologize first. So when Chenle approached you today, you thought of it as a way to settle your fight. So you went to the dining area, sat beside him and began eating the meal he cooked. 
Park Jisung
It was one of the rare occurence where Jisung goes home drunk. As you open the door, you saw how Jisung stumbled his way inside, you stood there frozen as you watched his movements until he turns around to face you. In a split second, he's on you, cupping your cheeks as if he's longing for you. "Are you not going to talk to me anymore?" he asked, his tone almost crying. "Come on, talk to me now, you're driving me crazy you know that?" and you only stared at him, before reaching your hands to cup his cheeks too. "I'm sorry Ji," you whispered. 
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sleepy-writes-stuff · 2 months
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DP X DC PROMPT #25
(#) = Notes at the end of post
(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.
Family Reunion
Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.
Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.
He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.
He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.
He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.
He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.
"It's time to leave, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"
"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."
"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"
Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.
Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.
The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.
Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.
He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.
He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.
(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!
(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.
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starjaeyun · 2 months
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gatekeeper — tsukishima kei !
— tsukishima assures that he is not embarrassed of dating you, you think otherwise
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warning/s : fem! reader, misunderstanding 😁 & a small fight at the beginning, profane language, tinsy bit of angst, fluff & crack from the second half ‘til it ends
note : had this little idea while writing a kageyama drabble so they might be quite similar
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“just give up already”
y/n’s tip-toeing came to a stop. seriously? this was the 4th time this week! with an annoyed groan, she turns around, fists clenched, brows furrowed, and it looks as though a tick mark was formed on her forehead. behind her stood her oh so loving boyfriend, tsukishima kei, who somehow always catches her trying to sneak in the volleyball gym.
“oh c’mon kei! why won’t you let me watch your practice?!” tsukishima sighed, “we’ve talked about this” he grumbled, why does she have to be so stubborn?
“don’t talk like those romanticized, toxic boyfriends on wattpad!” y/n hits his arm, which barely does any damage to him, “and don’t act like them as well!”
tsukishima raises a hand to fix his glasses, “are you saying i’m toxic?”
“i never said that! i just said don’t talk and act like—”
“so you’re implying it?”
“well, you’re going to be if you carry on with that bullshit!” tsukishima grows silent and stares at y/n, who had seemed to be reaching the highest point of her annoyed meter, which would then slowly escalate into anger.
after a few seconds of silence, he spoke, “take these, don’t wait for me and go home. cool your head” in each of his hands were his hoodie and an umbrella, which he brought with him on the way to the gym incase it might rain before they’re able to go back to the locker rooms. with y/n giving no sign of taking it, he placed it on her foot and carried on walking past her.
“i don’t understand you” tsukishima comes to a halt, looking back almost immediately upon noticing y/n’s change of tone. crap, was i too harsh?
“why are you acting like that if you’re embarrassed of me?” he couldn’t tell whether she’s sad or angry.
“acting? acting like what? and what do you mean embarrassed?!” his tone immediately gave away his nervousness.
“in school or when you’re with someone else, you avoid and act like you don’t know me but when we’re alone, suddenly you’re taking care of me! make it clear whether you love me or not to save both our time because i am not about to start losing myself for a boy who can’t love me the way i deserve!” it’s clear that she wanted to say more so tsukishima stayed silent. “if you’re going to love me, at least be honest with me! am i embarrassing or not?!”
“of course not!”
“then why?!” it was a miracle that y/n was not crying nor shouting at the moment.
tsukishima fully turns his body this time, “what’s embarrassing is my explanation…” and the mood suddenly lightens.
“TSUKISHIMA, YOU BASTARD!” tanaka and nishinoya’s yelling made tsukishima sigh.
“you call me selfish but keep shimizu-senpai’s sister all to yourself” kageyama grumbles
tsukishima stands still. hands clasped together behind his back and head bowed down. he looks like a child getting a scolding, or how the the freak duo looks whenever daichi catches their slip ups.
nishinoya and tanaka kneels in front of the first year. head bowed down as if they were praising him, and that they are.
“on this day, we honor you. congratulations on getting a shimizu!” they say in unison.
“you’re overreacting” tsukishima simply says.
“nope, i, too, would congratulate you tsukki. no offense, but you’re not exactly the ideal boyfriend” yamaguchi says with a finger under his chin.
“mhm! so you better treat her right tsukishima! she’s like our little sister” sugawara’s smile does not look comforting at all.
“call me if you need help in buying gifts!” daichi volunteers happily.
“and me if you need advice!” asahi adds.
“why are you guys taking my job?” shimizu comments while giggling. “but, i do think that tsukishima is just right for my little sister” she turns to look at her sister who was now playing around with kageyama and hinata, “she’s as chaotic as those two, he’ll be able to handle her. so i trust that i won’t have to worry much?”
“of course” tsukishima didn’t seem like himself at the moment. his eyes seemed to have soften at the sight of his girlfriend. he smiled, though not too obvious.
“why are you smiling like a male lead in a drama?” tanaka teased. and though tsukishima hates expressing his emotions to his teammates, he certainly loves poking their annoyance scale, “because this is what it’s like to love and be loved”
“Why are you making it seem like kiyoko does not love me back! she does love me! right? right?” tanaka gave kiyoko hopeful eyes and received no response aside from her turning around.
“I’m not talking about platonic love”
“WHY YOU—“
“KEI!” apparently, while he successfully annoyed the second year, his girlfriend heard what he said and would definitely never let it go.
“when have you been so sweet?! love and be loved? seriously?!” she bounced up and down, hands on tsukishima’s shoulder for support.
“she’s no different from the freak duo, i’m afraid” sugawara comments and laughs along with the third years.
“but am i really that beautiful that you had to gatekeep me from your entire team?” she laughed, still bouncing, and tsukishima only stood there with his smile never seeming to fade.
“if that were me i’d be receiving his train of insults by now” hinata says, joining the rest of the team as they watched how tsukishima seemed to be a lot softer around y/n.
“you’re such a gatekeeper kei!” she teased, this time, she stopped bouncing and have started poking her boyfriend’s sides.
“that he is! how dare he gatekeep kiyoko-san’s sister?!” tanaka kneeled back down on one knee with a hand on his chest.
nishinoya followed suit, “and what’s annoying is that she reciprocated his love!”
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© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost
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mypoisonedvine · 4 months
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"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me." + "has anybody else ever made you feel like this?" with mob!bucky
oh, mob!bucky, how I've missed you <3 this turned out pretty um. fucked up tbh
warnings: smut (18+ only!!), oral m receiving and creampie, daddy kink, public sex/exhibitionism, hair pulling, established (sugar daddy) relationship
100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!
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"And what do you say when I buy you something pretty, baby?" he purred as he ran his hands over your exposed back-- funny how the dresses he bought you always showed so much skin...
"Thank you, daddy," you cooed in return, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, and he smirked as he spread his legs a bit wider in his chair.
"Doesn't she look great, boys?" he prompted the men around him, who nodded and hollered in agreement. Sometimes it could be hard to get Bucky alone, with all the guards and 'employees' of various ranking always around him. Of course, you had him to yourself every night as long as you were willing to wait for those late night drinking and poker sessions to end-- which you were, you were used to the way he lived. And you were used to the attention of his colleagues, as well, because he loved to show you off to anyone he could.
What you weren't used to was him reaching down to pet your legs suggestively like this, in front of everyone.
"You know, if you wanna thank me," he continued with a raised eyebrow, "I can think of a much more fun way."
You cleared your throat nervously, glancing at the men around you. "O-of course, daddy-- when you come to the penthouse tonight, I'll thank you all night long."
The men snickered, but Bucky wasn't satisfied. "You can thank me here," he decided. "I don't have anything to hide from them."
Your heart raced, but fuck, it turned you on, too. Especially that look in his eyes, you would've done anything he wanted right then. But you wanted to be sure you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. Leaning in, you mumbled quietly: "Do you really want me to... in front of them?"
"Yes," he answered, looking up at you expectantly; and so you kissed him as you started to sink down onto your knees in front of the chair.
Already there were some strong reactions from the men watching you: cheers, laughs, even clapping. It made you feel... several emotions. It made you fucking wet.
You broke the kiss when you were fully on the ground, running your hands up his legs until he moved his hips forward for you to open his belt. "Can I take it out for you, daddy?" you asked sweetly, and he laughed as he nodded.
"Of course, baby," he hummed.
You didn't waste any time-- you freed his cock from his suit trousers, and dove in to lick a long stripe from the base of it to his tip. He got a bit harder in your grasp, putting a hand on the back of your head to guide you to swallow him down.
"Fuck," he groaned, "she's got such a sweet little mouth..."
Your hips shifted, something sexy and filthy about the way he was talking to them instead of you. But, he did address you next.
"Show them how you can take it all, sweetheart," he encouraged, "show them what daddy taught you."
You bobbed your head lower until your lips were at his base, and his tip was pressing into your throat. They made sounds of awe and amusement, watching him hold your head down and fuck up into your mouth until you gagged loudly. He held you down for one more moment before letting you breathe again-- you pulled back and looked up at him as you sucked in air sharply. "Is that good, daddy?"
"Yes, babydoll," he assured, "you can keep going."
You got back to it, though he gave you a little more control this time, and you used it to bring your hand around him and stroke the rest of his cock while you sucked him. You still deepthroated him when you could, just with breaks in between; all while he bragged about you to his men.
"See how obedient she is?" he announced smugly. "She'll do anything for me. Such a good little girl for daddy."
They certainly seemed to agree: you heard someone say "I bet she is" and someone else notice "she really knows how to suck a cock, huh?"
Just when you thought you were doing well, Bucky grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him; before you could ask what he was doing or if you'd done something wrong, he stood up and bent you over the table roughly, slamming you down hard enough to make the poker chips and cards bounce. "Sorry, baby," he growled as you whined, "you can't get daddy all worked up like that and not expect any consequences."
He was still pinning you down by your neck with one hand while the other pulled up the bottom of your dress to expose your ass-- no panties, just like he'd told you when you left to try on the new dress. He slammed his cock inside you, making you cry and arch your back as he fucked you brutally against the table. Some of the men were still seated around it, and you shut your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of them.
"She's such a good girl for me," he praised again, "always ready to take my cock. Isn't that right, dollface? You let daddy fuck you whenever he wants?"
You nodded as you whimpered, and the men laughed. "She's so cute," one of them noticed, "no wonder he can't keep his hands off her."
"And she likes it when daddy gets rough," Bucky added with a low laugh, and you moaned louder. "Uh huh, I know, babydoll-- you love being mine so much..."
"Daddy!" you yelped as he started to pump even faster-- he certainly wasn't pulling any punches. Probably because he knew what it did to you. "Daddy, m'gonna come!"
"See how easy she is?" he smiled. "Fuck, she can't help it, she just loves getting used so much. You can come, baby, nice and loud so everybody can hear you."
"Fuck, daddy, fuck!" you moaned, legs shaking as the feeling hit you hard and sudden. You hadn't expected at all how easily you would come from this-- if anything you thought it would be harder with all these eyes on you.
You would've collapsed if you weren't being held against that table by his painfully-tight grip on your hair. "Fuck, she squeezes me so good when she comes," Bucky growled, "this cunt really knows how to treat a cock."
He seemed to be going even deeper inside of you, if that was possible, and you felt your own wetness starting to run down your legs.
"I'm close, baby, I'm fuckin' close," he warned with another tug on your hair. "You want daddy to come?"
"Yes," you whimpered.
"You want daddy's come deep inside you?"
"Yes!"
"Fuck, fuck," he groaned, and all at once he stopped, grunting through his teeth as he filled you as deep as he could go. "Fuck, babydoll... god, look how pretty you looking getting filled with come... doesn't she look pretty, boys?"
He slowly pulled out of you, but put both his hands on your ass to spread it out and get a better view of your hole.
"Damn, look't that," he praised, "can't hardly tell daddy just beat you up, you're still so tight. Push it out, honey, I want them to see how good daddy filled you."
Your face was so hot now you honestly thought you might melt-- and you kept your eyes shut tight to hide from the embarrassment-- but you heard the men leaning and looking around you to get a glimpse as you flexed your muscles to push his come out of you.
You felt a thick drop run down from your opening, and they all reacted aloud. "Good, sweetie, keep going," Bucky praised, and you whimpered as you pushed more and an even bigger wave oozed out of you.
The men couldn't keep their mouths shut now. "Damn, that's a lot of come." "She really does whatever he says." "Look at it running down her legs, what a whore." "You can tell she likes it too, look-- fucking slut."
Bucky guided you to stand up straight again, pulling your dress down to cover your ass. You blinked your eyes open, though you couldn't be too surprised as the lascivious stares of all the men in front of you. "You did so good, baby," Bucky praised softly in your ear, holding you close from behind. "They all want you so fucking bad, hm? But whose are you, doll?"
"Yours, daddy," you answered weakly.
"That's right, sweetheart," he cooed as he kissed you on the cheek, "you belong to me."
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loaksky · 6 months
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i don’t celebrate thanksgiving, but could you guys imagine college!ellie taking roommate!reader home to jackson because she’d be alone for the holiday? short lil oneshot to get back into the groove of writing. do i hate this? yes.
recommended songs: alabama haint — penny and sparrow + what once was — her’s
warnings: language, a few brief mentions of family issues, suggestive content (kissing among other things) + mild sexual content, a lil misunderstanding and angst bc who am i if i don’t ??, CONFESSIONS because i’m a sloot for them. i think that’s it? not proofread ofc heh
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it’s the weekend before thanksgiving, sunday to be exact, and ellie’s packing her backpack for joel’s. the energy in the the room’s a little off despite the fact that you’re normally reserved, and even though the two of you have only met this year, ellie’s learned to read you pretty well.
“you goin’ home for thanksgiving?” ellie asks absently, trying to make small talk as she rolls a sleep shirt and some pajamas haphazardly to stuff at the top of her bag.
there’s a pause that makes her brain itch before she sees the way you shake your head from where you’re hunched over a textbook at your desk.
“my family’s all over the place right now,” you answer honestly.
and ellie doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally, but the lack of emotion in your voice tells her that maybe she shouldn’t pry. she can’t help it, though. because you’re her sweet and quiet roommate who’d been serious (and maybe a little scary) at first, but turned out to be a goofball with a little bit of prodding.
so seeing you like this, checked out and maybe a little stressed, ellie treads cautiously.
“so you’re gonna stay here?” she asks.
you don’t even spare her a glance.
“yeah.” your shoulders shrug. “no point in dropping so much money for a plane ticket if i’m going to be sitting home alone anyways.”
ellie makes a noise in the back of her throat and you throw look over your shoulder.
“sorry,” you offer softly, smile sheepish. “that was a little depressing.”
ellie shakes her head.
“no, i get it,” she assures you. “my family’s not really...”
you blink at her as she trails off.
“conventional? i guess?”
another quiet blankets the two of you and ellie’s speaking before she can even filter through the repercussions of her next words.
“you’re always welcome to...y’know...come with,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “it’s not even a two hour drive.”
you hope ellie can’t tell that your cheeks are burning.
“you don’t have to, of course,” ellie blabbers. “but joel’s cool, so’s my uncle and his wife. it’d be nice, i think. and jackson’s pretty fun around this time of year...”
“i don’t wanna imp—”
ellie breathes a laugh.
“don’t,” she warns you, tips of her ears burning. “you’re more than welcome, seriously.”
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it’s how you end up in the passenger seat of ellie’s old 4runner, heater on blast while sublime plays on the radio.
the car ride had consisted of ellie munching on cold fries the two of you had picked up from mcdonald’s before the interstate and you finally opening up about how your parents are divorced and how the holidays are a lot more stressful than they are pleasant.
ellie really feels for you, definitely knows the feeling losing her mom at a pretty young age and being adopted in middle school by a single, bereaved father. she tells you that they’d found each other when they needed the other the most.
and you don’t particularly know why you’re so nervous when ellie finally takes the exit off the interstate and you guys make your way through the suburbs. perhaps it’s the domesticity of meeting her family, or that you’re over a hundred miles away from familiarity, but your fingers are trembling when she turns into the neighbourhood and cozy brick homes line the frost-laden streets.
she’s pulling up and parking on the curb in front of a warm two-story that has a blue pickup truck and a gold SUV in the driveway when she notices.
“hey, hey,” she whispers, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands to stop the shaking. “you okay?”
her hands are warm when they close over yours and her thumbs is brushing over your skin soothingly.
“i’m being dumb,” you admit.
ellie’s eyes are crystal clear under the setting sun.
“don’t say that,” she says softly. “you wanna take a second?”
you swallow and shake your head.
“no, we can go,” you assure her.
she’s searching your face for any tell, but when you offer her a soft smile, she’s leaning back in her seat and nodding. before she completely pulls away, you’re stopping her.
“thanks, ellie,” you say gently. “this was really kind of you.”
she flashes you an easy smile, squeezes your hand a final time before climbing out of the car and rounding the front to help you out.
and truthfully, you realize you were nervous for nothing. because when the door swings open to reveal an older man aged with smile lines and greying hair, ellie seemingly softens infinitely.
“hey, kiddo,” he greets, crushing her in a hug so tight, she’s spluttering out a laugh.
“joel, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes.
you’re standing there awkwardly, backpack slung over your shoulder when joel finally loosens his hold on ellie and glances over her head.
“who’s this?” he asks, but the smile he wears is knowing.
“________, my roommate,” she introduces quickly, cheeks warming an awful shade of red as she begs every force above that joel won’t blow her cover.
because, okay, maybe ellie’s talked about you on the phone way more times than she’d care to admit out loud. talked about how intimidating you were at first, then graduated to talking about how you were actually so cool. and maybe she’d brought up the fact that she thought you were pretty. like...super pretty. and that maybe she was crushing a teensy bit.
“nice to meet you,” joel replies simply, sparing ellie this time around.
you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto, offering a smile that makes ellie wonder if she’ll survive the week with you in such a new proximity.
“nice to meet you, too,” you almost whisper, relaxing as he reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder.
“here, let me take this for you,” he says.
and it doesn’t take you long to realize where ellie gets it from. her kind spirit and fierce yet gentle heart. joel is soft-spoken, a little rough around the edges, but a warm energy that radiates through the home he’s made for himself and ellie.
it makes infinitely more sense enter tommy and maria, her uncle and aunt who tell you the silliest stories about the starry-eyed girl in her youth over dinner. who bring out her boisterous laughter when they sing old 80’s music over dishes and evening TV.
“your family’s so cool,” you say in awe, wrapped in one of her coats she’d dug out of the closet under the stairs.
you’re nursing a mug of hot chocolate that steams in the icy air of jackson on her back porch.
ellie breathes out a little laugh.
“they’re something,” she jokes, watching you over the rim of her mug.
you make her heart thud hard in her chest as she takes you in, bundled in pieces of her that make her think that she wouldn’t mind making you hers.
“i miss times like these,” you whisper.
ellie shifts closer, catching you by surprise when her thumb swipes over the curve of your top lip.
“sorry,” she hums quietly. “you had...uh...”
you let out a hollow laugh and shake your head, tell her that it’s fine as a silence blankets the two of you.
“i’m glad you like them,” ellie admits softly. “sometimes i get a little self-conscious because, y’know, everyone expects a nuclear family and...”
“i’d take this any day,” you assure her, and the true implication of your words is latent, but something hopeful pricks her tummy.
i’d take this any day...with you.
and locking eyes with you usually scares her, usually makes her queasy with nerves because there’s always something searing in your gaze, but it’s like you see each other for the first time, no barriers.
ellie’s so close she can feel the warmth of your body coiling and drawing her in. her breath’s caught in her throat as she chances a glance at your mouth and her own lips begin to tingle.
she’s on the brink of asking if she can kiss you, but the back door is sliding open and two familiar faces are surfacing.
“williams!”
ellie’s daze melts away as she shifts to put distance between the two of you at the arrival of her friends.
“jess!” she calls. “dina!”
the moment clings heavy, but ellie writes it off. maybe she’s jumping the gun, reading too much into tender moments. it’s colored on your face, though, as she stands to meet her friends halfway, that the two of you are tethered and you feel it too.
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ellie’s friends are another reflection of her character. they take you under their wings in the days leading up to the holiday with jesse teaching you to ride his minibike and dina telling you stories of their childhood while excitedly painting your nails pretty shades of autumnal colors because both jesse and ellie vehemently decline.
joel graciously relinquishes his kitchen to the four of you the day before thanksgiving. lets you guys gather around and bake an array of different desserts for tomorrow’s dinner over a few beers and winecoolers.
perhaps ellie’s a lightweight, you come to find, when she’s a lot more giggly and rosy-cheeked than she’d ever let anyone see. she’s feeling a little bubbly and you definitely don’t help the fact when you gaze upon her so fondly as you smear away the streaks of flour across her cheek.
jesse and dina are merely observers, watching with knowing grins as ellie practically melts against your touch.
and as the desserts cool on the kitchen island and the two of see jesse and dina out, ellie can’t keep her hazy eyes off of you. the two of you vote on a movie and she’s taking her usual seat in the right corner of the couch. it starts out with the two of you on opposite ends, but as the film plays, the space between you and ellie diminishes and she swears you can hear the way her heart’s pounding behind her ribcage with your ear pressed to her chest.
it’s uncharted territory considering ellie’s never been big on physical touch and she can’t even be sure that there's anything there, but you have to know. ellie’d mentioned past girlfriends, wasn’t really subtle when it came to wandering eyes on campus, hell, she’d even—
suddenly your arm’s tightening around the narrow of her waist and you’re nestling impossibly closer and christ, ellie can’t help herself when the coarse pads of her fingertips brush your jaw to catch your attention.
your gaze is illuminated by pixels and there’s a hitch in your breathing as you search her features for any hesitation. it’s long gone, you find, when ellie’s mouth is slotting yours, lips warm and tongue still flavored with sparkling wine.
ellie kisses like you’re air and she needs you to breathe. it’s almost embarrassing, way her body reacts to your proximity, how hot she us under the collar and achey as you move to straddle her. her fingertips are skimming down your spine, past the small of your back to take a—
your teeth sinking in the plump of her bottom lip and the way your soft palms find purchase against the rigid expanse of her tattooed abdomen is sobering. has her bony fingers cupping the flesh of your jaw.
“wait, wait,” she whispers, chest heaving and breaths shallow as she looks up at you.
the dust is starting to settle and you take in ellie’s kiss-bitten lips, swollen and slick. her pupils are blown wide, sweater riding up to reveal reddened flesh like you’ve branded her. you lean back.
“fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i’m so sorry.”
ellie’s mouth is drying.
“why are you sorry?” she whispers.
you seem to chew on your words, eyes teary and expression scared.
“why are you sorry?” ellie repeats, not caring enough to mask the hitch in her voice as she pries.
“you’re always so fucking good to me, ellie,” you whimper. “you’re a great roommate and an even better friend and—”
ellie blows out a deep sigh, falls slack against the cushions as she levels you with an indiscernible look in her eye.
“don’t do that,” she breathes.
“ellie.”
“c’mon, you know me better than that,” she says, tone tinged with annoyance. “you don’t have to let me down easy. you can be honest.”
and color you confused because how couldn’t she fathom that you’ve fallen and head first at that? she’s reading it all wrong, you realize, when defeat shutters over her pretty face.
“i—”
the floorboards outside the den creak and ellie’s pushing you off just as the door squeaks open to reveal joel’s aging face.
he reads the room a moment, decides to blow by the sheen in your eyes and ellie’s rigid posture.
“tommy and maria are leaving, kiddo,” he says. “if you wanna say bye.”
ellie nods, stands and leaves you in the television-illuminated room.
you realize she won’t come back for you when the telltale sound of the front door closes and the stairs seem to groan under her weight.
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it’s half past two in the morning when you slip from the den, glass of water condensating on a coaster as you try to collect yourself on the screened-in deck out back.
the icy chill stings your lungs, makes you gulp in breath after breath. the night’s starting to dawn you, the gravity of the situation overwhelming you enough to choke.
“fuck,” you whisper, that familiar feeling of dread squeezing your chest.
meanwhile, ellie can’t sleep. has been staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom for the past two and a half hours. you’re all she can think of. pliant curves of your body settling over hers to fit like you two were made for each other, the smell of your subtle perfume, the taste of your mouth.
and she wants to be annoyed, angry at the fact, but she’d brought you all the way here, extricated you from your comfort zone and showed you parts of her she wouldn’t dream of revealing to anyone else.
she recalls the resignation in your tone on the drive up, how you’d divulged the dysfunction of your family and the troubles you carried with you as a result. it’d be your first holiday with someone other than yourself for a while and she’d be damned if it soured because she couldn’t push her feelings aside.
the tv’s off and the blanket’s folded when she musters up enough courage to enter the den again, heart sinking to her ass when she slides back into the kitchen and finds that the sliding door to the back deck is cracked ever so slightly.
she’s seen you in a lot of ways these past eleven-odd months she’s known you, but she’s never seen you like this, hands over your heart and chest heaving like you’re trying to ground yourself.
when your watery gaze swings to her, ellie’s melting, cushion sinking as she settles next to you.
“sorry,” you whisper shakily. “i don’t—”
ellie’s shifting to face you, arms winding around your shoulders as one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.
“let’s talk about it later,” ellie offers softly. “we can just go to bed for now and—”
“i really, really like you, ellie,” you say in one breath, and it has her body locking up, the audible catch of her inhale sounding near your ear.
“but?”
“no buts,” you admit. “just that i don’t want you to think that i kissed you because you’re being nice to me. well, i guess you’re always nice to me. it’s one of the reasons why i…”
and ellie doesn’t mean to tune you out, but you’re so fucking cute and so sweet and she shouldn’t have doubted you or herself because you’re hiccuping and shivering and—
you taste better the second time around. now ellie’s a little less unsure, still a little nervous because you’re the first girl to make her feel like this and she doesn’t want the bubble she’s built around the two of you in this corner of her little world to burst, but kissing you feels so right.
she’s dragging you back inside, past the den and up the stairs, and maybe the two of you do things you shouldn’t in her twin size bed in her childhood room when her dad’s only a few walls away, but she can’t help herself. not when you’ve always been an arm’s length away and she can finally have you.
it isn’t until the two of you lay under the dim glimmer of the glow-in-the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, her face pressed in your neck, that she says it.
“i really, really like you, too,” she whispers. “i realized i didn’t say it back.”
but it’s not like she needs to. you knew that already.
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neng ©️2023
808 notes · View notes
shibaraki · 10 months
Text
LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO
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synopsis: slow to heal and forced on sick leave, a lonely Todoroki Shouto decides to download the latest popular app, Enigmail, to cure his boredom. he finds you. the rest is… well. moderately disastrous.
tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, pen pal au, hero personal assistant reader, prohero shouto, strangers to friends to lovers, injury recovery, online friendship + eventual romance, feelings development, misunderstandings, identity reveal, pining, sexting, masturbation (male chara), making out + heavy petting, getting together, *slaps roof of fic* you can fit so much fluff in this thing
wc: 17K
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It started unexpectedly—with a tremor.
Rather, it started with Oda Shuichi, the prolific villain known as Tremor. At the time of the incident his quirk had been unregistered, but doctors quickly found that it severely affected an individual's motor neurons. According to them the length of time that he has a five point touch hold on someone influences how long they will lose motor function—and how poorly their muscles atrophy.
Shouto spent three uninterrupted minutes trapped in his clutches.
“I promise I’ll come by and visit whenever we can. You’ll still get updates and reports through your work email,” Midoriya tried to assure him with that signature smile, brows drawn together into an almost pleading expression. “It’s just for a little while!”
“For a month,” Shouto pointed out petulantly. Nori, his elderly adopted cat, stirred from her place on his stomach while restless fingers combed over her short pale fur.
“A month,” Midoriya parrots. He offers an apologetic grimace and leans over where he lies horizontal, slumped and agitated, to fluff up the couch cushions behind him. The newly crowned Symbol of Peace obviously felt needlessly responsible for the situation at hand. Shouto had only allowed Tremor to grab him so Deku and Suneater could get the hostages out, after all.
“Taking a break isn’t so bad, Shouto. And Hawks told me you’ve yet to actually use any of your vacation days,” he continued. “Even Kacchan takes time off. Do you know how many hours you have to work to outdo Kacchan?”
“I’m sure you could tell me exact numbers”.
“Don’t be mean,” Midoriya said, dithering as he peers around the room, slightly unfamiliar now that the furniture has been temporarily moved around to make navigating the space easier. Thanks to an on-call specialist Shouto would still be able to walk in short bursts, but he’d have to gradually build up strength and stamina over the weeks to come.
A pleased sound reverberated in Midoriya’s throat as he finally discovered the TV remote, setting it beside Shouto’s phone on the arm of the chair. “Okay. There,” he hooked an ankle around the coffee table and dragged it a little closer. “If you need us to get you anything from the store just text us”.
Shouto grumbled. Midoriya sighed, fondly exasperated at the childish display. Before leaving he moved the nearby pair of crutches within reach, listing off all the things he can think of, “Hey, maybe you can catch up on Quirky Hearts now! Or read that series Iida said you’d enjoy. There’s that new app I heard about, too. Enigmail? That might be fun”.
The anonymous pen pal app, Enigmail, exploded in popularity after its release in the spring. Shouto barely knew a thing about it, only that you needed to be over eighteen and chatting partners were assigned at random. Nothing about that sounded tempting.
Midoriya’s suggestion hung over his head for the rest of that afternoon. Quirky Hearts droned on in the background. Halfway through the first episode Shouto had yet to retain any information. Nori hardly left her spot. Jaws stretched wide around a yawn, lips pulled back to display what remained of her teeth. He liked to think she sensed his inner turmoil, though realistically, she was likely too lazy to move.
Curiosity prevailed in the end. The logo featured a pink post mounted mailbox, the slot unhinged to receive a folded paper plane. Shouto opened the app onto a pretty basic interface that followed an almost pastel theme. The profiles are barebones. He supposed that was purposeful. It asked for pronouns and a nickname, offering the option to pick an icon from their default library, but nothing more.
From what he could discern skimming over the rules he would be assigned to a random chat room with another person in a speed dating style interaction. A timer would count down from two minutes and upon completion prompt the user to either switch partners or remain talking.
A simple concept. But anything had sounded better than sulking horizontally and staring dead eyed at reality television for the remainder of his night. And when was the last time he met somebody new?
Almost every username he could think up had been taken. Even his hero name was unavailable. In a last ditch effort he settled on a miraculously accepted Sooba and scrolled through the icons. “Hey, it looks like you,” he murmured, pleased by the regal white cat icon. She hadn’t heard him, but sunk her dull claws into the meat of his forearm as he turned the image to her, those dramatic yellow eyes dilating at his coo, “Don’t worry. You’re the only Nori in my life”.
Shouto clicked start.
The first few users are odd, and without tact. Others communicated in languages he couldn’t understand. He stuck around regardless—luckily the developers had thought to include a translation tool, and Shouto managed to befriend one or two people with innocuous pictures he’d taken on previous patrols alone.
Then there’s…
XpLoveGuest ▻ Hey sexy
By that point early evening had already flooded through his balcony doors and drenched everything in a gauzy orange glow. His nose wrinkled. “You have no idea what I look like,” he thought aloud, switching to his right hand to roll the ache from his left wrist
▻ ASL?
Shouto frowned in faint confusion. He minimised the app to search up the term. Results flowed in, and after a brief look over everything he discovered they all repeated the same description. It’s an old acronym.
His thumbs tapped across the keyboard in quick succession.
Sooba ▻ Age: 27 ▻ Location: Tokyo ▻ Sex: No thank you
The chat immediately disappeared. A loading symbol blinks in the centre of the screen. He snorted, and suddenly a new chat opened with a different username blinking at the top corner. It’s a bit on the nose.
‘InsertNameHere’.
You shared the same default cat icon, which he took as an immediate plus.
But a minute elapsed and nobody spoke. There was an unusual trepidation on your part. Shouto chewed his bottom lip. He contemplated starting the conversation when suddenly three dots skipped across the screen, indicating the other user was typing something.
InsertNameHere ▻ You’re not going to send me a picture of your dick, are you? ▻ If you have one that is.
Shouto’s mouth parted in soft surprise, then pressing defensively thin, and he had glanced around his living room as though someone were there to witness this weirdness alongside him.
Sooba ▻ I have one.
InsertNameHere ▻ Ok. Well I don’t want to see it.
Sooba ▻ It sounds like you see a lot of dicks.
Not once taking his eyes away from the screen, Shouto felt for the TV remote and paused the show, brow arching at your next response.
InsertNameHere ▻ And it sounds like you’re new here.
Sooba ▻ I am. My friend recommended I try this to cure my boredom while I recover.
A few beats passed. He eyed the countdown looming over your shared interaction, conscious of how little time is left. You were the first interesting person he’s come across. Though he supposed that isn’t saying much.
InsertNameHere ▻ Recover? That sounds bad. Are you alright?
Sooba ▻ Injury at work. I’ll be fine in a few weeks.
Just as you were beginning to respond, the timer cut out. Shouto reflexively expelled his frustration and Nori lifted her head toward the abrupt movement of his chest, ears twitching. She blinked up at him in disapproval for shaking her. “Sorry sweet girl,” he murmured, wearing a small smile as he scratched under her chin. So temperamental.
A familiar pop up in the cartoonish shape of a postcard covered the chat. Your messages blurred into the background. It read: Do you wish to continue corresponding?
Shouto clicked ‘Yes’. And apparently you did too, because your contact pinned itself to his in-app mailbox.
A melodic chime pinged from his phone. Confetti burst across the off white background in pixelated blooms.
✎ CONGRATULATIONS! You have a new pen pal ✐
InsertNameHere ▻ Guess I can keep you company in the meantime. ▻ You’re the only sane person I’ve come across so far.
Shouto smiled, even as the muscles in his cheeks protested. It’s a stubborn reminder of his condition. He repositioned himself to lessen the strain on his wrists, chin tucked to his chest where his phone is propped, and said:
Sooba ▻ I’d like that. :)
The fortnight that followed is slow to pass. An endless cycle of wake, stretch, eat, lightly exercise as instructed by his physiotherapist, play with Nori, eat, watch Quirky Hearts, stretch. Midoriya stopped by, bringing Iida along with him. Jirou sent him playlists to listen to. Fuyumi called every evening and shared the phone with his mother, gentle in their fretting. He assures them all that he’s coping just fine from the Shouto-shaped depression in his couch cushions.
But there’s also you; the stream of consciousness keeping his seams together, lest he fall apart from the complete and utter boredom he’s been forced to endure. In the beginning he wasn’t sure of the rules. Talking online is not his forte and neither is making new friends. That entire first morning was spent ruminating whether or not texting you ‘good morning’ was strange, and estimating how many times was appropriate to message you before he violated some invisible social boundary.
Normal had been irrelevant until now. Normal, to Shouto, consisted of avoiding his father’s phone calls, sending the occasional concussive text message—indecipherable to even the greatest cryptanalysts—and giving Nori updates in the 1A Grad group chat.
Sometimes he’ll open the app to see you typing, pausing, typing. Imagining you, a faceless someone, equally uncertain about your footing pleases him a little. In the end he figured if you didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t respond. Evidenced by how you often saved him the trouble by messaging first, sometimes as early as five o'clock in the morning. Apparently you worked irregular hours in a rather unpredictable industry. Shouto weighs the possibility that you might be a fellow hero—or something close—more than he cared to admit.
Any trepidation he felt would always dwindle as soon as a notification lit up on the screen. He reads your username and his insides turn over.
InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve escaped to the break room. ▻ Do you ever think about how we don’t have muscles in our fingers? How fucked up is that?
Shouto smirks, pulled away from the conversation at hand. He unlocks the phone in his lap, beneath the kotatsu to remain hidden, an attempt at being inconspicuous as he replies.
Sooba ▻ I try not to think too much about anything.
You throw back a few laughing emoticons and satisfaction washes over him. “You’ve been texting a lot. Who’s got you smiling like that?” Natsuo asks slyly. He’s cross legged, tie tossed irreverently over his shoulder, shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, having come straight from work. “A special someone?”
Shouto forces the muscles in his face to relax into feigned nonchalance. “Nobody. Nothing,” he says unconvincingly.
Rei enters the room with a modest tray of dango before Natsuo can open his big mouth. She’s wearing a bi-coloured hoodie. The sleeves slip as she sets the treats down on the table beside the green tea Fuyumi brewed earlier; another gift from Yaoyorozu’s family travels. Natsuo’s face twitches under Shouto’s unbroken stare, which is daring him to bring it up while their mother is here.
Then his phone vibrates and any possibility of peace is shattered.
His mother glances curiously at him, expression soft in the dewy afternoon light, and she smiles. “Are you speaking to one of your friends?” she asks. “Please tell Deku ‘thank you’ for sending me your new Shouto hoodie. It’s very warm”.
The words fill something cavernous inside him. Soothes the ache with gentle wonderment. She smiles down at his hero logo printed proudly across her chest, rubbing the hem between her finger and thumb. A younger Shouto could have only ever imagined it.
“I’m not so sure it’s a friend this time,” Natsuo teases, spoken with a playful, sing-song cadence. “Shouto wouldn’t text at the table and risk facing Fuyumi’s wrath just for a friend”.
Shouto does not pout. “I would risk anything for my friends,” he says, affronted; anything maybe except his older sister's well intentioned nagging. “…It’s a new friend, that’s all”.
Rei perks up, settling on her knees and laying the kotatsu blanket over her thighs. The quiet sound of plates and cups clinking together fade in from the kitchen. Natsuo hums, unconvinced, and hides a smile behind his mug. It's moments like this, when the people he loves are gathered in one place, and he can hear them in every corner of his home, that he’s glad for buying a smaller apartment.
“That’s wonderful, Shouto,” Rei murmurs as Fuyumi pads into the room, Nori not long behind her, threading through his elder sister's ankles. She too arrived right after work, donning a suit-skirt and blouse. “What’s their name?”
His thoughts stutter. Fuyumi’s nose wrinkles seeing the panic stark on his face. “Who are we talking about?”
“Beats me. Ask him,” Natsuo says, taking a stick of dango between his teeth as he tries not to grin when Shouto’s phone vibrates a second time. “I want to know who’s so eager to talk to my little brother”.
InsertNameHere ▻ Sooooobaaaaaaa ▻ I’m on my lunch keep me company
Shouto snatches up his phone to respond. He brings it closer to his face to allow Nori access to his lap. She monopolises the space instantly. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Shouto,” Fuyumi laments. “No phones during family time”.
“I know. I’m sorry, nee-san. I just need to…” his thumbs dance over the keyboard, head ducked in amalgamated shame and apology.
Sooba ▻ Question ▻ InsertNameHere ▻ What is your name?
InsertNameHere ▻ At the personal info stage already? You move fast. ▻ Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.
That stirs a faint unease in his gut and he understands better then. Anonymity is what gives people a sense of security and he isn’t exempt from that. In truth, right now he doesn’t want to know what might change if you knew who was on the other end yet.
Sooba ▻ You can call me whatever you want.
“Shouto”.
InsertNameHere ▻ That’s not even a line is it. ▻ Man. You’re dangerous.
Sooba ▻ ???
Shouto stares at the flickering dots by your username. You type, then stop. Type, then stop. As if you were deleting and starting over again. A habit of yours he’s quite endeared to. “Shouto!” Fuyumi huffs, poking a manicured finger into his side. Though short, the nail still causes him to flinch, and he’s quick to stretch his phone out of reach as her hand swipes through the air. “I mean it!”
Nori is jolted. She voices her immediate displeasure and Rei titters into her sleeve. The sleeve with his name stitched into the fabric. He breath catches, like it always does when his mother laughs. “Shouto doesn’t have to tell us anything until he’s ready,” she assured, offering him a gentle look—a look so sincere he feels awful for being evasive.
And his feeble resolve fractures.
“I don’t know,” he confesses bluntly. Natsuo and Fuyumi frown, at one another and then back at him, in unsettling synchrony cultivated through siblinghood. Shouto shrugs and pulls at a stray thread in his jeans cut loose under Nori’s claws, “I can’t tell you a name because I don’t know it”.
Natsuo appears mildly surprised. Fuyumi sinks into disbelief, feet curled beneath her body, going lax at his side. She drops her arm. “You… don’t know it?” she repeats.
“The app is anonymous,” he supplies hastily, attention flickering to his mother, far more worried about discerning her reaction. She’s unreadable. “My name isn’t on there either. We just talk about stuff”.
“Stuff?” his siblings' voices overlap, told apart only by the difference in tone. Natsuo’s shock has melted into some strange mix of pride and innuendo. “Is it that penpal thing everyone has been talking about? Enigma?”
“Enigmail,” he mutters. Natsuo lights up. Fuyumi does not share the sentiment.
“You’re a hero, Shouto! What if it’s someone with bad intentions?” she frets, brows drawn down and together, mouth pressed thin. “They could be tricking you. The internet is rife with predators, and—!”
“Nee-san. I’m a grown man. I understand the importance of internet safety,” Shouto interjects.
Natsuo slumps onto the table with a mawkish sigh, the sound steeped in fondness. “Let him have fun. You know he’s right, ‘Yumi, he’s an adult. It’s a wonder where all that time went,” he says. A few beats later he’s abruptly straightening his spine, “Gods, Fuyumi. You’re almost thirty five!”
Fuyumi glares from behind her glasses. She reaches across the kotatsu and swats lightly at his bicep, “Do you have to say it like that? You’re thirty one!”
“Please. Stop arguing,” Shouto says. He pets the unperturbed cat curled up on his thighs, “You might startle Nori”.
“Shouto. She’s deaf”.
Rei cuts their bickering short as she breathes, “When did you all get so big…” a serene smile hung on her lips, not a hint of grief to be seen. The answers surrounding your identity—or lack thereof—are lost to the nostalgia cloying in his throat.
They return to enjoying tea and dango after that. Shouto sets his phone face down on the floor and turns off vibrate. For now, he wants to ward off further interrogation.
His mother intuits this and steers the conversation in another direction, “Natsuo, how have things been at your new job? Are they treating you well?”
Things are good. Fuyumi’s class would soon be graduating, an award for Best Teacher polished and positioned on her desk. Natsuo had landed the job he always wanted—a medical welfare officer working closely with trauma survivors—and was already making waves. His mother, Rei, finally finished cultivating her traditional garden, weaving tales of lush foliage and water spouts. Touya too has been improving in his rehabilitation programme, according to his psychiatrist’s reports.
A tremor quakes through the tendons in Shouto’s forearm as he lifts his tea to sip the remaining dregs. Yaoyorozu outdid herself this time. If he hadn’t already known the price he would have discerned it from the refreshing, uniquely sweet taste. Thoughts of you cross his mind in these instances without warning. Would you like it? What’s your favourite tea?
Shouto scrunches his eyes shut as if it might wash those thoughts away. How is it that the stranger in his pocket possesses the ability to awaken such yearning in him; he feels mildly ashamed to have realised his loneliness with an audience.
The hour rolls into another. Shouto scrapes the last dango along the skewer with his teeth, jutting his chin to evade Nori’s curious sniffing. “This was lovely, Shouto. Thank you for having us over,” Fuyumi expressed as she carefully ran her hand along the feline's back.
Sensing the finality, Shouto motions to stand and sets Nori on the couch. Everyone protests it. He huffs, sliding a crutch over from where they lay nearby and letting it take his weight. A good decision, he thinks, inwardly grimacing as the blood rushes to his feet, prickling like violent white noise under his skin, and his knee almost gives out.
“I’m okay. The doctor told me I should be trying to move around more anyway,” he tells them, deigning to mention that he expended most of his energy tidying up this morning before their visit. “You’re my guests. I want to walk you to the door”.
Shouto tries not to bristle under their wary scrutiny. A cool hand slips around his arm then. His mother’s natural chill seeps through the sleeve of his shirt and allays the irritation. “We appreciate it, sweetheart,” she says.
“We do,” Fuyumi gently insists. “We’re happy to see you recovering well. Right, Natsu—?”
“Kiss tax!” Natsuo exclaims, oblivious to his surroundings. He scoops Nori up from the arm of the couch. She is comically tiny pressed against his chest. A continuous indignant drone rumbles in her throat as his brother peppers firm kisses to the top of her head.
“Put my baby down,” Shouto deadpanned.
“She isn’t your baby,” Natsuo slides one hand under Nori, the other carefully tucked into her armpits. He holds her close to Shouto’s face. Dramatic round eyes stare back; a flat expression emphasised by prominent cheekbones. Barely a hair's breadth between them, Nori begins to swipe her rough tongue against his scarred cheek. “See? You’re her baby”.
“Mine, too,” Rei rises to her tiptoes and scratches behind Nori’s ear, turning a smile toward Shouto. That same hand moved to cup his cheek. Though far taller than his mother, Shouto tips his head and finds himself feeling incredibly small as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Your hair is getting long again,” she adds as she pulls away.
“I can trim it if it’s bothering you,” Fuyumi nods, sidling up beside Rei to survey the growth together. She brushes back the wayward strands framing his face and Shouto blinks. “Though, I think I like this look on you. What’s it called? A wolfcut?”
“I’m not sure. This is how Mina cut it a few months ago,” he replies.
Natsuo interjects without Nori in his grasp, now notably covered in short cat hair. He claps Shouto on the back and pulls him into a firm side hug, “She did good. Our handsome little Shouto”.
Initiating physical affection with his family was still a weary affair after all this time, though patently one sided. Having them touch him so freely always left him a little stupefied.
After they depart, Shouto hobbles to find his phone with all the grace of a newborn fawn. It is face down under the kotatsu cover right where he left it. And as it blinks to life, he skips the notifications from the 1A group chat to find your screen name at the bottom.
InsertNameHere ▻ My boss has these awful little nicknames for everyone in the agency. Mine’s ‘Maestro’. Nerd and butterfingers, too, but mostly Maestro. ▻ To do with my quirk and role, I suppose. Good for morale etc. His creativity astounds me (๑ಕ̴ _̆ ಕ̴) ン? ▻ Not that I don’t appreciate it but. Well shit, what about my morale? Lol ▻ You there? ▻ Sorry if I scared you off by getting personal.
Shouto worries at his bottom lip. Maestro. Something new about you. A foreign feeling churned in his chest. Faint, barely there, but new enough for him to notice. He’s not sure how to pin it; whether your mention of working at an agency bothers him or the fact that others, people who are not Shouto, get to see you everyday, close enough to give you a personal nickname.
Sooba ▻ Sounds like you have a good relationship. I’ve got a close friend who sounds similar. People say it’s just his love language ha ▻ And you didn’t scare me off. I’m the one who asked. Some family came to check on me.
He barely thinks it over before adding:
▻ My mother said hi by the way.
Your reply isn’t immediate but it is quicker than he expects.
InsertNameHere ▻ You’re right. I do like my boss sometimes. Maybe. And I love this job but I think it has aged me ten years. My ulcers have ulcers! ▻ Also—telling your family about me now too? We really are moving fast.
A soft huff of laughter jumps in his throat. There’s a distant clamoring near the kitchen. The sound of Nori’s bowl being pushed around the tile. Her absence clicks in place when he looks at the clock. He should feed her soon.
Sooba ▻ Technically it was only my mother, older sister and brother. ▻ But I can relate about the work stuff.
InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah? You mentioned being on leave because of an injury. Do you like your work?
That’s a question he has never asked himself, nor has he ever felt the need to. Heroism was the path life handed to him. The path he ultimately followed of his own volition. Shouto loves his family, his friends. He’s good at his job—enough to have made it into the top ten. And isn’t that all that matters?
Sometimes he would take a long, weary look out the revolving agency doors, recognise the heaviness in his bones and give the entire thing a second thought. But that never made any difference. Because people needed him. And he needed them too.
There’s a fleeting urge in that instance; a temptation to come clean, if only to sate his own curiosity. To compare the idealised image of what you looked like or how you sounded. He’s spent many a shameful night thinking up romanticised scenarios in his mind about what it would be like to meet you in real life. Shouto always squashes it. He doubts you’d believe him.
Ever perceptive to his moods, Nori chooses that moment to pad in from the kitchen and sit herself directly in his line of sight. She wails, demanding attention and lacking any volume control.
Right now he is not a hero but a man alone on two unsteady legs with a small living thing reliant upon him. He’s just Todoroki Shouto. He’s just—
Sooba ▻ As of right now my occupation is ‘Nori’s dad’. I like it pretty well.
Your reply is immediate.
InsertYourName ▻ Oh you have a kid?
Nori’s frustration grows. Her tail swishes back and forth, agitated. “It isn’t time to eat yet,” Shouto tells her, pulling up his phone camera and zooming in. On her next yowl the shutter goes off. The picture is perfect. Mouth wide open, large ears flat and nose wrinkled in displeasure, lips curled up to display her pink gums.
Sooba ▻ [IMG_0243] ▻ Something like that.
It’s a risk and he knows it. Though infrequently his team has posted Nori to his social media in the past at the delight of his fans—she was younger in those pictures, but if you were well acquainted with him there was the possibility of you putting the puzzle pieces together.
InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god sooba. She’s so cute. Give her everything she asks for, you monster. ▻ Hey. Are those Ingenium themed crutch pads?
Anxiety rockets through him. He pulls up the photo and sure enough, his crutches are in the corner of the frame, laid within reach beside the couch. Secured around the handles are Ingenium themed pads to cushion his palms.
Sooba ▻ They are.
InsertNameHere ▻ Is he your favourite hero?
He turns his phone over in his hands before he types, overcome by an abrupt restlessness.
Sooba ▻ One of them. ▻ Do you have a favourite hero?
Nori wanders off in his periphery and not long after he hears the telltale sound of cardboard being torn apart. You stop typing, replies coming to a halt. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
It becomes clear you’re offline. Shouto spends the evening imagining your answer—ducking sheepishly at the idea that you might say him, then cringing at his reaction—and reading through his work emails.
Partnering with Hawks hasn’t been the worst thing in the world. Despite his carefree demeanour and general lack of personal space Hawks was professional and meticulous when it came to his work. As promised, Shouto was CC’d into every important thread and forwarded every significant incident report each day. Apparently there’s a big fundraiser tonight that he is unable to attend.
Hawks suggests matching Endeavor’s donation in spirit. Shouto doubles it.
The night air barely touches him. Leaning against the balcony railing he surveys the cityscape. A kaleidoscope canvas. He stares until the pinpricks of light stretch and bend, streaking his vision, regaining shape when he blinks. Nori is curled around his calf, playfully kicking her back legs at his ankle. She’s careful to never break skin.
It’s nearing midnight when you get back to him. A disconcertingly vague reply of:
InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve had enough of heroes.
Shouto waits for you to elaborate before presuming anything nefarious. He would hate for Fuyumi to be correct. She’d never let him forget it.
▻ Shit that made me sound bad, didn’t it? I promise I’m not a villain
He snorts, reclining himself into one of the chairs on his patio. Yaoyorozu insisted upon helping decorate the space. This piece in particular had been chosen by Uraraka, if only for its cocoon, egg-like shape. She always sat in it if she came over; Shouto can’t say he blames her, now curling up inside it himself, leaving one foot flat to the floor for Nori to cling to.
Sooba ▻ Only a little bit lol.
InsertNameHere ▻ I just mean for today! I’ve had enough for today! ▻ There’s… a whole lot of them at this work event I’m attending is all. ▻ See! ▻ [IMG_0589]
It’s the first picture you’ve ever sent to him that wasn’t a meme. Your legs are crossed, turned inward to show more of the showroom floor. There are people everywhere. You’ve overturned your lanyard in your lap, straps dotted with the charity logo, to display the back of your security pass. No identification. Just proof that you’re there—
Proof that you’re a real person, giving colour to the vague, shapeless figure in his head. The figure once outlined only by random tidbits, like your favourite food, the music you like, the movies you loved as a child. The figure now clad in tight fitting, seemingly pearlescent sheer material from the waist down.
—Shouto swallows dryly.
You have nice hands. He tries not to linger on that.
▻ That’s why I disappeared, btw. Sorry about that. ▻ I feel weirdly underdressed.
The logo on your lanyard has recognition prickling in the back of his mind. Hours earlier Midoriya had texted him two pictures from the ‘HEROKIND’ fundraiser Hawks mentioned. One being a selfie of him and an aggrieved Bakugo, each wearing their own fitted suit, and another of Uraraka in an evening gown stood behind the imposing silhouette that was his father, stealthily pointing her middle finger at his back.
He saved that one to his camera roll.
Sooba ▻ In that case I will close the HPSC anonymous tip line ▻ Sometimes people try too hard at those events and forget why they’re there. You look good from what I see.
InsertNameHere ▻ How very gracious (´・` ) ▻ Sounds like you have some experience with this kind of thing. My condolences lmao ▻ But thank you. I’m glad you think so.
Shouto entertains the idea of sending you something back. His eyes surreptitiously flicker around as though being watched. Nothing revealing who he is, but enough to maybe—
The camera captures a few of the modest flower beds and cat grass lining his balcony, Nori coiled around his bare ankle. He looks at his hand. Shuffles his hips further down to mirror your angle and flexes his fingers in his lap. Heat floods his body, guided by the shameless desire to inform the image you might have of him in your own head, too.
Sooba ▻ [IMG_288] ▻ At least you’re having more fun than I am.
You type for a long ten second interval. Then restart. A tedious minute elapses and just as regret creeps in, your messages come through.
InsertNameHere ▻ I’m not so sure about that. ▻ Actually it would probably be more bearable if you were here with me.
The sound of his heartbeat floods his ears. So warm it’s like he’s standing under the sun. Shouto belatedly realises it’s just his quirk, as the steam blows out through his nose. Nori butts his ankle in complaint. He bends to take her into his arms, feeling ridiculous and somewhat bad at being a person.
Sooba ▻ Think so? ▻ Just so you know I have been called socially inept on numerous occasions.
InsertNameHere ▻ Then we can hide together in the corner, get tipsy and sneak bits of the fancy spread.
This—doesn’t happen to Shouto. “Nori. I have feelings for a person I’ve never seen,” he pushes his face into Nori’s fur, and she purrs, feeling the vibrations of his voice. Admitting it aloud only highlights the absurdity. He feels out of his depth. And he decides he’s glad for the anonymity. Grateful, even. Lest he publicly humiliate himself and set off every fire alarm in the vicinity.
Sooba ▻ That sounds perfect.
InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll hold you to that. There’s another one of these coming up in two weeks. ▻ Prepare yourself (ꈍᴗꈍ)
“You’re really not helping,” he continues. Nori rubs insistently under his chin. “Fine, fine. I get it,” She croaks as he presses into the touch, mimicking her movement and cradling her as he gets up.
Before retiring to bed he pulls up Yaoyorozu’s contact. He settles into a comfortable position in the covers, propping his phone on his stomach, and he types:
Shouto : 00:14
I think I need help.
Consciousness eases into him slowly. It’s a sleepy pastel morning. Dust dances in the soft spotlight cast through his curtains. Shouto’s jaw unhinged to release a long yawn, limbs stretching every which way under the covers as his joints click.
Shouto props up on his elbow, twisting in place to reach and unplug his phone. He blinks away the blurriness hemming his vision and squints at the stack of messages from Enigmail right at the top of his notifications.
InsertNameHere ▻ Oh shit. Hero Shouto donated double the amount of what Endeavor gave and he couldn’t even be here tonight. That’s hilarious. Can that guy get any hotter ▻ I didn’t intend for that to be a pun. ▻ These cocktails are becoming suspiciously easy to drink. ▻ You’re probably sleeping like a good boy but I miss you. Wake up! ▻ Have you ever had feelings for someone you’ve never met
The loose tongued messages stop there, at around one o’clock in the morning. Then there’s a seven hour jump to only ten minutes ago.
▻ Oh my god. Please ignore all of that. And then kill me.
Hardly awake, sleepsand still crusty at the corners of his eyes, Shouto’s mind reels as he considers pinching himself. He doesn’t know which part to focus on. Your apparent—and unknowing—attraction to him as a public figure or the implication that you had feelings for Sooba.
But you’re obviously embarrassed. So he bites back a smile and starts with something simple.
Sooba ▻ Good morning to you too ▻ Remember to drink water and take some bufarin.
Sitting upright with legs hung over the bed, Shouto clicks out to his text app by way of distraction. There’s another photo from Midoriya. This time it’s just him. Speckled light glitters along his cheeks, expression beaming as the hero holds a piece of sashimi in front of his pink face. Shouto heart reacts to the text.
InsertNameHere ▻ Send more Nori
He chuckles, sleepy. That makes known Nori’s absence. Strange, he muses. She is usually the one to wake him. Rather than search he scrolls through his albums to find a photo you hadn’t seen yet. It was taken a few months ago. He’d slipped his camera under her chin and pressed the shutter when she looked down, looming over the viewer with a dumbfounded look.
Sooba ▻ [IMG_142]
After a few minutes with no response, assuming that you had accepted his bribe and sought out some painkillers, Shouto braced against his bedside table and stood, phone in hand. Every muscle in his body felt like wet sand, held together by too tight skin. This morning, though, the incessant ache that beat alongside his heart was gone.
Walking still felt as though he was wading through molasses but strength was steadily returning to his physique.
The floor is cool under the soles of his feet as they shuffle down the hallway. There’s a noise in the kitchen that gives Shouto pause. A voice, hushed yet high pitched voice, cooing like someone might to an infant.
He drops into an ungainly defensive stance, pyjama bottoms and all. Worst case scenario they at least hang low on his hips, loose around his legs, leaving room for flexible movement. He rounds the corner without a sound.
And relief beats like a drum in his chest.
Yaoyorozu meets his gaze from the kitchen island where one hand is petting a very happy Nori, sipping from a glass of water with the other. Her face is bare, shadows soft under her eyes, hair pulled haphazardly into a low ponytail as if she had just rolled out of bed and rushed here. Creati in a bleach stained hoodie and leggings. The press would have a field day.
The sight brings a small smile to his face. Their schedules have been misaligned for months. It’s good to see her—if only her expression had not then darkened. “Todoroki Shouto,” she says with all the authority of an older sibling, “What on earth was that text last night? You had me worried sick”.
“Text?” he parrots dumbly, looking to check his phone.
InsertNameHere ▻ Painkillers acquired. Thank you Nori ▻ I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.
“I let myself in with the key you gave me. I hope that was alright,” she continues, quiet and apologetic now. He skims over your reply and switches to check his text app. Sure enough the last thing he sent to her was an ambiguous plea for help.
“Of course it’s alright,” he replies, regarding her with a meaningful look to cover for how sheepish he truly feels. “I gave you the key because you’re always welcome here”.
Yaoyorozu smiles on the end of an exhale, idle hands smoothing down Nori’s cheeks. “Of course,” she echoes, examining his form closely now her anxiety is assuaged. Over him comes the muted awareness that he’s being judged. “How about we go on a short walk for once, since I’m here? The weather is quite pleasant”.
Shouto steps forward with mouth downturned, “Momo, I assure you I’m fine. You don’t need to walk me like a dog,” he says, wincing thereafter at his bluntness. She only hums.
“When was the last time you went anywhere?”
Very uselessly he replies, “I go places”.
Yaoyorozu’s potential to lead and assert had never escaped him, not even in his teenage years, and it was something he staunchly admired her for. But never has he resented his own affinity for compliance more than he does the moment she ignores his pouting and tells him to finish his morning gait training and get changed.
Dressed casually and statuesque in the centre of his living room, left leg lifted to mimic a flamingo, Shouto’s limbs shake far less than previous days. He can hold his phone while he balances now, too. You haven’t sent any new messages. Probably waiting for him to assure you that he isn’t upset, but even so he’s a smidge disappointed.
Sooba ▻ I’m here. A friend appeared in my kitchen. ▻ You don’t need to apologise for anything, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I've received worse drunk texts I assure you.
He switches to his right leg and chews the inside of his cheek. Facing villainy was far less daunting than navigating his feelings.
▻ I thought it was cute.
That’s about as brave as he felt today.
Yaoyorozu resurfaces from the coat closet with a jacket in hand and a pep in her step. There’s something else coiled around her wrist. Nori’s cat leash, red and attached to a blue harness, matching Shouto’s hero colours.
“Can we bring her along?” she asks, bouncing in place. Upon recognising the leash Nori makes her opinion known, releasing a drawn out yowl. “Oh please, Shouto”.
Nori didn’t regularly enjoy walking but she had been trained to do so from a young age. She was peculiar and picky, and Shouto trusted her to let him know if ever she wanted anything—something she never failed to do.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs, bending to tap her nose. It wrinkles, a stray tooth flashing between her lips. “If you get tired I won’t carry you”.
Nori blinks. A lie and they both know it.
Shouto sighs, defeated. “Okay. She hasn’t wanted to in a while so I can’t really deny her”.
“Wonderful,” Yaoyorozu breathes, handing him his jacket before undoing the harness and crouching to slip Nori’s paws through one by one. “We can grab a warm drink to go from the cafe downstairs and talk”.
Shucking the jacket on and flattening the collar, Shouto dithers in the genkan with his crutches nearby. He tucks the wayward strands of hair into a knitted hat and loops his mask around his ears. The scar couldn’t be helped but atleast this way a majority of people would not think to look twice.
They leave the apartment together, all three. In the short time it takes to step out of the building's lobby you still haven’t replied. He shoves his free hand in his pocket, fingers clasped around his phone in case it vibrates.
The establishment across from Shouto’s home has been open for longer than he’s been alive. An elderly couple named Pierre-Louis and Tsutomu run the place. The two men moved back to Japan decades ago to care for Tsutomu’s sick mother, and with Pierre-Louis’ incredibly unusual coffee quirk ‘Bean Boost’, opening a cafe seemed the right route to take.
Since moving here they’ve endeared themselves to Shouto. If they see him on his way to work Tsutomu will often rush to offer him a takeout cup. This morning is no different.
“Mon petit chou!”
Tsutomu slides open the walk up window and calls his name, beckoning them closer. The breeze tousles the short grey curls around his ears. Shouto’s heart near stops when the older man leans out to greet Nori as she stretches upward and almost loses balance. “Tsutomu-san, please be careful,” he says.
“I am still rather spry, young man. Don’t worry about me,” he returns happily, gaze moving to Yaoyorozu when he rights himself. “Lovely to see you again, Momo-chan. Have you come to rescue our prince from his cave?”
Indignant, Shouto grumbles, “I wish you would all stop acting as though I’m a hermit. I haven’t been stuck indoors that long”.
The two level him with a look of doubt. Tsutomu gently pinches his cheek and rubs a thumb over the swell above the mask. “Your pallor betrays you, Shouto. Let the sun kiss you more, no? We worry”.
“Tout va bien?” another voice interjects. Pierre-Louis squeezes up next to his husband, ignoring his disgruntled noise, and brightens when he sees Shouto on the other side. “Mon chou, you’ve emerged! And with two beautiful girls at your side”.
Yaoyorozu muffled a laugh while Nori busied herself chewing on the nearby grass, leash never pulling too far. “Pierre-Louis,” Shouto murmurs, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice. “It’s good to see you both”.
“And you,” he beams. The wrinkles by his eyes deepen. Shouto never met his grandparents but he thinks perhaps this is the closest he’ll get. “Are you going anywhere special?”
“We’re just taking a walk, Pierre-Louis. I thought it might be nice to get a warm drink for the journey,” Yaoyorozu spoke warmly and nudged his side. “Where better than here?”
“Bien sûr! Will that be one earl grey and one green tea?”
Shouto nods at her questioning glance, “Loose leaves today, please”, he adds.
Pierre-Louis disappears to make their drinks, shortly returning with two takeout cups, steam pluming softly from the mouth. Shouto swaps his crutch to his right side and accepts the green tea with his left hand, heat seeping through the cardboard sleeve.
“How much will it be—?”
“Nonsense,” Tsutomu interrupts with a sudden switch to English. He shakes his finger, silencing any protest, and his husband gives a resolute nod in support. “Take it, mon chou. Call it a family discount”.
Shouto bids them a dazed goodbye, leaving the walk up window; a lump in his throat that he tries to wash down with hot heat, tongue impervious to the temperature. “They’re very sweet. I’m glad you have them,” Yaoyorozu muses. “What is it they call you? ‘Chou’?”
“Mon petit chou,” he repeats clumsily, accent slightly gawky. “I asked Aoyama a while ago and he told me it means ‘my little cabbage’”.
Yaoyorozu pauses and Nori continues ahead, leaping up onto a nearby half wall with her tail hooked high. She pounces on a crack between the bricks, blissfully unaware of the nearby traffic, trying to eat a ladybug.
“My little cabbage?”
Shouto hums, squinting up at the early sun, rising in a blanket of pale blue and mottled grey clouds. The air is refreshingly cool. “Apparently it’s something French parents call their children,” he shrugs, as though he were not then warmed from the inside out at the reminder that they truly did see him as one of their own.
“That’s lovely,” she says, slowing to match his pace. He’s not tired so much as he is enjoying the morning dew. They follow a familiar path. Turning down a hidden narrow walkway that leads to a neighbourhood park. Nori’s chitters fill the spaces left by comfortable silence.
Yaoyorozu suggests sitting at one of the picnic tables. Tall trees flanked the area on either side, columns rising to create a weave of foliage that shrouded them in gold. The old wood is cold under his thighs. Nori hops up onto the bench, ears flat to her head, and hisses at a dog across the way which hasn’t even noticed her presence.
“So,” Shouto glances over toward Yaoyorozu as she speaks. Her arms are settled on the tabletop, fingers curled around the disposable cup and swirling the liquid inside. “Are you going to tell me what you were panicking about last night?”
He picks at the cardboard sleeve, twisting it, and supposes this was inevitable. Slipping down his mask, Shouto brings the tea to his lips in distraction, grasping for a way to articulate his situation without simply saying: “I have feelings for my anonymous online friend”.
In the end he realises there really isn’t any other way.
Yaoyorozu listens intently, as he expected she would. Of all his well intentioned friends Shouto knew she’d be the most open to his reasoning. Her expression visibly softens while he wrings his hands and rambles about the palpable connection that he first attributed to his own loneliness—
Rambles about you; you, the one now carried with him everywhere, the presence weaving his days into tapestry; you, accepting of his random thoughts, giving of your own; you, unintentional charm and bad jokes and sharp wit; you, faceless and voiceless, the one to receive first and last thought.
He expels his fears. Concerns of who you really are. Of what you might think upon learning his identity—if you wouldn’t like him anymore, or if his own feelings might change after meeting you offline, and if that makes him a terrible, shallow person.
Then he mentions the photo from the Herokind event and her head cocks in interest. “May I see?” she asks. Shouto murmurs his agreement and pulls his phone out from his pocket.
You’ve messaged him.
InsertNameHere ▻ Appeared? Like, teleported?? ▻ I’m glad we’re ok. I would miss you otherwise. ▻ But you can’t know I’m cute. You’ve never seen me lol
Shouto is typing back with unfounded confidence before he realises it.
Sooba ▻ I don’t need to see you to know that.
Then his eyes flicker to Nori, staring up at him clad in her Shouto themed harness, lip caught on her scraggle tooth. He takes a quick picture. Examining it before sending, he notices Yaoyorozu’s slender hands in the background, and wonders if you might be jealous.
He scoffs inwardly at his own childishness and sends the photo.
▻ Not teleported hah, just came in with a spare key. We are out walking now.
“Sorry—I just wanted to reply first,” Shouto clears his throat and presses his phone into her now proffered hand. Given without question.
Something flickers in her expression at your photo; it’s a brief shift that flies over her gaze like a shadow. Her thumbs pinch and part on the screen as she zooms in. “I was there for a few hours last night,” she says. “I recognise this outfit. Would it not be easier to check the list of attendants?”
“…That doesn’t feel fair,” he admits soberly. “I know that’s silly”.
“It’s not silly,” she affirms with a small smile, fingers now moving as she types. “You are aware of your position. You have the resources to find them and presumably they do not. Of course it seems unfair”.
It’s testament to their friendship that he feels no need to check what she’s doing. Her brows furrow slightly, then arch into her hairline, eyes brightening. Pleased, Yaoyorozu locks the device and hands it back.
“What did you do?”
“Don’t worry. I didn't do anything untoward,” she replies. “But I do know who you’re talking to now”.
Shouto’s fingers flex around his phone. “You do?” he breathes, incredulous. Just like that?
Yaoyorozu nods, lending her attention to Nori. “I don’t have a name. But if you want to find them I think you’ll want to speak to Bakugo-kun”.
“Bakugo…?” Shouto echoes.
“I believe your friend may work for him,” she clarifies. Ah. The clamouring in his head comes to a halt. In hindsight it’s clear. Your nicknames make sense now.
“I’ll think about it,” he swallows, bringing his tea to his face for another sip. He finds it tepid and warms it again with his quirk. Yaoyorozu doesn’t push.
They spend the hour catching up on the things Shouto has missed in the weeks he’s been absent, and the weeks prior. Midoriya’s claims of him being a workaholic become a reality he can’t outrun. Tea finished, Shouto takes both cups and disposes of them in the recycling bin. Yaoyorozu stands from the picnic table with Nori cradled to her breast—Nori stares back at him, smug—and they make their way back to his apartment.
“Shouto,” she coaxed, now standing outside the tall glass doors leading to the lobby. Nori’s claws sink into the collar of his jacket as she’s passed to him. He takes her leash from Yaoyorozu, bunching it up; and she covers his enclosed fist with her hand.
“Go for it,” she tells him, giving a firm squeeze. “I’m rooting for you. Just be safe”.
Stepping back into his apartment, his cheeks are warm and his limbs are trembling. You’ve buzzed inside his pocket three times.
InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god. How can such a perfect creature exist? And her harness! Shouto colours? ▻ I hope you’re having fun. <3 ▻ You know, you never answered my question from last night
“You don’t think I’m hopeless, do you Nori?” Shouto asks the thin air—Nori has already scrambled toward the nearby shoebox, bunny kicking at the corner as she chews. He sighs.
Yaoyorozu’s encouragement rings loud in his ears while he replies.
Sooba ▻ Yes. I think I’ve had feelings for a person I’ve never met.
And it feels like a confession.
Shouto sees the week come to an end before he finds enough strength, physically and mentally, to visit Bakugo’s agency.
Your conversations have evolved. They carry a flirty undertone now, the verbal toeing of the line that makes his heart pitter patter. You send pictures throughout the day. Always angled away from your face. Swathes of skin. A pen between your fingers. Stacked paperwork and an empty coffee cup. The burgeoning skies on your walk home. Comfortable at home, your legs crossed over the other, a fluffy slipper hanging at the end of your foot.
He never knew so much thought had to go into making a photo appear candid, effortless. At one point he purposefully shuffled his workout shorts lower on his hips and spent the remainder of the afternoon mortified with his head deep between the couch cushions.
Liking another person is humiliating. He feels exposed, like a flesh wound that you won’t stop prodding.
InsertNameHere ▻ [IMG_412] ▻ I hope you have a good day!
You’re sitting at your desk, presumably. A slide knot bracelet hangs loose around your wrist. Hand held out over the mouse and keyboard, you’ve pinched your thumb and finger—smudged with black in—together to make a heart shape. It’s cute. You’re cute. He files the pose away for any later run-ins with paparazzi. His PR has been getting on about trying harder when they photograph him for months.
Shouto’s body rocks with the train car as it careens down the tracks and readjusts his grip on his crutch. He smiles behind his mask, sinking into the confines of his hood which he has pulled over his cap. There are eyes on him today. It can’t be helped in such close quarters. But they’re uncertain—too afraid to bother him and be wrong about his identity.
Sooba ▻ You too :) ▻ Remember to take breaks. I read that you should spend five minutes away from your screen every hour.
InsertNameHere ▻ You have to stop making me smile at work. My coworkers think I have a secret husband or something.
Sooba ▻ I promise to send you off with a homemade bento tomorrow morning.
InsertNameHere ▻ And a kiss.
Shouto grabs the nearby pole as he is almost knocked on his feet. Passengers board, others depart, and his heart hammers in his throat like a fist.
Sooba ▻ A kiss?
You’re still typing a reply when Shouto hears the hesitant evocation of his name. It’s timid and hushed, belonging to a person trying to restrain their excitement. She covers her mouth with a gasp when he meets her eyes.
“It is you,” she bubbles. A metallic taste pervades the static air around her, short hair wiggling on end as if it were responding directly to her excitement; behaviour unbefitting of a typical reporter, he notes.
Your text box jumps onto the screen in his peripheral vision, bumping up the chat. He jolts and angles the phone away from her just to be safe.
InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah! A bento box and a kiss to get me through the day, obviously. As my husband.
There are three others a few feet away, huddled together beside a pillar and abuzz with energy. Mild dread churns in his stomach. Definitely not a reporter, then. “If you have a moment…” the young woman spares a glance over her shoulder and her friends excitedly encourage her forward. “Um. Would you maybe be interested in—”
“No,” Shouto replies. The young woman winces at his tone. Ah. She’s embarrassed now. He really should make a habit of lying in consideration for other people's feelings. Fuyumi did mention that, though not in as many words. Before her face can crumple further he continues, “I’m very sorry, that was rude of me. I’m in a bit of a hurry”.
Her relief is palpable, near contagious. Expression softened with understanding she folds her hands against her stomach and ducks into a slight bow. “Of course, I understand,” she says. Somehow it makes him feel worse. “And—I’m glad you’re well, Shouto-san. We’re all wishing you a complete recovery”.
Gratitude bubbles inside him. He smiles, pressing a finger over his mask, and her complexion turns a bright shade of pink. She nods in understanding, scurrying to her friends.
Shouto departs the train without disruption. The conductor takes stock of his gait and the crutch at his side, offering to lay out the ramp, but he politely refuses, stepping onto the platform with ease. He feels good; closer to his other self, the one before his muscles were run through a metaphorical centrifuge.
Sooba ▻ Obviously. ▻ I suppose I can add ‘house husband’ alongside ‘Nori’s dad’ on my list of occupations now.
Blast Zone isn’t far, a fact for which he’s grateful. Bakugo insisted on rooting himself in the centre of the city, right in the spot where all transport routes seemed to meet; there stood the symbol of victory’s headquarters, imposing in the skyline.
According to journalists at PowrStruct magazine The Blast Zone agency is an ode to modern architecture. A steel frame structure surrounded by reinforced concrete, an outer coating embossed with a texture that gives the award winning building the fragile appearance of having been meticulously glued back together while simultaneously being both blast proof and earthquake proof. Shouto cares not for design in general. He does, however, steal a mini Dynamite themed pen from the front desk while he’s waiting to be signed in.
There’s a thin chain attached to the cap with a Chibi Bakugo hung on the end. Sue him.
“He’ll see you now, Shouto-san,” the receptionist states, pupil-less eyes blinking back at him. Shouto tucks the pen into his sleeve, feeling foolish and somewhat nervous. “Head on up to the office on the twelfth floor. He knows you’re on your way”.
Shouto clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, weakness in his knees that has nothing to do with his nerves. The Ingenium handle pads cushion his palm as he braces onto his crutches, supporting him toward the nearby lift. There are eyes on his back as he goes. They’re heavy, lingering like physical touch. Something in him spoils at the unnecessary pity.
The lift remains mercifully empty. He presses the twelfth floor button and it glows green. The ride up is smooth, and quick. Double doors slide open onto a sprawling office space flooded with natural light. No one bothered to glance in Shouto’s direction as he gawked. If he remembered correctly this area was specifically for employees that worked closest to Bakugo. They’re all so nonplussed and focused. No nonsense. He likes that.
“Loser,” Bakugo grunts. He appeared from thin air, standing aside with arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Shouto’s stiff form with suspicion. “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re still on leave”.
Shouto makes a noncommittal noise, inwardly miffed. He straightens his posture and takes more of his own weight. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe I missed you,” he says. Bakugo’s expression suddenly soured, as though he swallowed a lemon, mouth thin against his teeth.
Amusing as it is, acknowledging the disconnect aloud makes him truly accept the distance he had put between himself and his friends; how he’d worked too hard, untied himself from the tangle of their lives and ended up isolated.
“Nori told me to say ‘hi’ by the way”.
Bakugo sweetens. “She like that cardboard house I sent you?”
“She already destroyed it,” Shouto admits. And Bakugo laughs, irritation split by a crooked grin.
“Atta girl,” he nods in approval, turning on his heel and starting toward a pair of towering doors. “Oi. You comin’? Or are you going to stand there all damn day?
Dynamite’s office is anything but corporate. Professional, yes, but it’s also so plainly personal in a way that screams Bakugo. A setup reconfigurable for days that he can’t sit still, a folding treadmill under his large mahogany desk to keep him moving. Bakugo works better on his feet, something Shouto knows well.
Built in shelves line the accent wall, filled with framed pictures of friends and family, newspaper clippings and awards. There are even fan creations—mostly from his debut era, when being favoured felt far more significant, but Shouto finds it sweet all the same.
Walking ahead of him, Shouto approaches the desk. Bakugo lingers for a beat to holler something out the door before returning to his desk.
Two consult chairs face the head office chair opposite. Lowering into one of them, Shouto props his crutch up and takes his phone out of his pocket. Ever hopeful, he unlocks it, opens Enigmail and refreshes the chat list. There are new messages from a few other people he added in the beginning, but nothing from you. He tries not to sigh too obviously.
“What’s got you all fuckin’ mopey?" Bakugo leaned over to look down at the phone. Shouto hastily locked it and the explosive hero narrowed his eyes at the impassive veil Shouto pulled over his face.
“Nothing. How did the first Herokind event go?” he asks, fiddling with his newly acquired Dynamite pen. “Midoriya always sugar coats things for me”.
“Went fine. You didn’t miss anything,” Bakugo waves off. The leather office chair creaks as he leans back. “Boring as all hell since it was just the kickstarter. Food mild enough for a toddler to eat and too much alcohol. The auction will be more interesting. That birdbrain partner of yours was hilarious, though”.
“Hawks?” Shouto’s mouth twitches, failing to conceal his mirth. “What did he do this time?”
“Spent the night antagonising your shitty old man,” Bakugo pauses for a brief moment and rescinds his words. “Or aggressively flirting. Can't tell the difference with him”.
Shouto keeps his thoughts to himself on that one.
“Ended with Endeavor triggering all the sprinklers at the after party though,” Bakugo ends, eyes crinkled under the weight of his wicked grin. Shouto pursed his lips tight. Amusement huffed through his nose. He imagines his father standing in the middle of the room, pathetically soaked through, wisps of smoke rising from his put-out embers, and he laughs.
Bakugo looks rather pleased by the reaction. But then his gaze flickers over Shouto’s shoulder and his brow arches expectantly. “Did’ya need something? I shouted for the Egghead because I thought you were on your break”.
Shouto’s laughter dwindles as he follows Bakugo’s line of sight. His breath catches. An employee stands in the doorway peeking around a tall box of paperwork. Wide eyed as they examine him.
Wrapped around their wrist is a familiar sliding knot bracelet.
“I just—uh…”
His head spins. There’s a smudge on your finger where your pen's ink leaked, just like in the photo. Could this be you? You are—
“What the hell has gotten into everybody today,” Bakugo tuts, pushing up from his desk and striding over to receive the box himself. Your shoulders slump when you are relieved of the weight. Bringing your hands to your chest and massaging the joints.
—still looking right at him. Cute. He cannot help but think how cute you are, tripping over your words, losing your footing.
“Oi, maestro,” Bakugo clicks his fingers in your face and startles you out of your stupor. “Get it together. I need you with a clear head when that sleepy bastard from the HPSC gets here”.
You glare at Bakugo, “Mera-san is the least of your problems, Dynamite. Worry about yourself and the six unanswered emails I forwarded to you from the claims manager”.
You’re beautiful. And your voice, it’s so—his lips part, and he tries to speak, to interrupt Bakugo’s incessant teasing, but words fail him.
“Whatever. Those insurance claims are bullshit and you know it,” Bakugo mutters. He turns and moves to shove the box of paperwork beside the desk. His mouth downturns into a smirk when he stands and notices your attention drawn to Shouto once again.
“Is that everything? I’d appreciate it if you stopped gawking,” Bakugo drawls, a dry rasp to his taunting that seems to embarrass you further. Shouto isn’t sure he’s breathing. You’re right there. You’re within reach and he’s rooted to his chair.
“You’re such a—! Y’know what, no, I’m leaving now,” replying harshly you start toward the open door where you come to an abrupt halt. Shouto feels the distance like the pull of a leash. You incline your head into a short bow, losing strength in your voice as you acknowledge him, “Have a good afternoon, Shouto-san”.
Then you’re gone. He stares after you dumbly. In all the years he has worked in the hero industry Shouto has never been more thankful for choosing to make his given name his brand than he is now.
Bakugou falls heavily in his chair and sighs.
Shouto swallows, “Who was—”
“Don’t,” Bakugo stresses the command, as though telling a dog to heel. Shouto can feel the heat behind his pointed glare. Undeterred, his eyes linger after you, stuck on the spot where you once stood, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wing.
“I mean it, Halfie. Run off the only competent PA I’ve ever had with your pisspoor flirting and I will kill you,” Bakugo barrels on. There’s no true malice but it comes through gritted teeth, like he has resigned himself to the impending stupidity. Because Shouto is already looking back at him with that small, impish curl to his lips.
“I’m not that terrible at flirting,” he says.
“Making eye contact for three uninterrupted minutes is not flirting,” Bakugo scoffs.
Shouto hums. “And what is? Pulling their pigtails for ten years?”
“Watch it,” Bakugo grouses, bottom lip jutting. He kicks the leg of Shouto’s chair and he laughs; he’s missed this.
Hoping to get back on track then, Shouto asks, “Will you be attending the charity auction, then?”
The other man grunts an affirmative. “I’ve put some memorabilia and shit up to be sold. Sparky somehow convinced Eijirou to auction himself off for a date,” Bakugo snorts and gives an amused shake of his head. “I’m willing to bet he’ll rake in at least ten million yen. Minimum”.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Shouto agrees. Kirishima had grown a lot since graduation all those years ago. Pair a stocky build with a big hearted guy like him and everyone is tripping over themselves to get a piece. “Is he nervous that he won’t make much?”
Bakugo clicks his teeth, interlocking his hands across his midsection and getting comfortable. “He really hasn’t got a fucking clue. The HPSC schmuck I’ve got to talk to today has already suggested extra security in case certain high profile guests get resentful,” he says. Crimson peeks through narrowed eyes, considering, calculating. “Are you gonna go? You’re looking steady enough”.
The last Bakugo had seen of him was directly after the incident—crumpled into the fetal postion and involuntarily spasming with six second intervals. Unable to speak, to walk, to turn his head. Worst case scenario presented on scene was that he could lose the ability to function at all, and Shouto had been thrown into a pit of depression so oppressive that he withdrew from himself all together.
There’s an underlying relief in Bakugo’s question that comforts him in ways he wasn't aware he’d been seeking. Pleased, Shouto drags his crutch between his thighs and twists at the padding around the handle. “I’ll be in attendance. I plan on bidding on a few things. David Shield’s original design sketches maybe,” he admits. “…Will ‘maestro’ be there?”
Bakugo seems to parse the response carefully, as if it cracked open a hole into Shouto’s psyche. “Izuku is shooting for those, you know. I’m the one that’s gotta deal with him cryin’ if he loses”.
“I know,” Shouto’s mouth splits in a wry, intentional smile. “If I’m not outbid then I’m happy to give him whatever I win”.
“Shill bidding? Ha. Izuku never believes me when I tell him you’re secretly a dick,” Bakugo smirks. A thought visibly crosses his mind. He props his elbow on the arm of his chair, chin resting in his palm and considering Shouto closely. “…My PA will be there for the auction. Working. So if you show me up—”
“I won’t,” Shouto interjects.
“—I will see you to the pearly gates myself,” Bakugo continues, unperturbed. There’s no true malice to his tone, moreso fond resignation, and Shouto’s chest bubbles with affection for his hard headed friend.
“That’s nice of you,” he says sincerely.
“Get fucked. You want an update on the cases we opened this week or did you seriously come here just to annoy me?”
“To annoy you, mostly,” Shouto ducks away from the hand that swiped at him. “Hawks forwarded me the arrest report. Tremor ended up going for a plea deal?”
“Yeah. Sold out the extras that helped him gather the hostages,” a forceful click of the keyboard; Bakugo slaps the spacebar to wake his monitor and makes clear his disapproval. “They went too fuckin’ easy on him,” he sneers. “Deserved a longer sentence”.
“As long as they’re off the streets,” Shouto muses. He isn’t one to hold a grudge against villains who’ve harmed him, but he can understand his friends' frustration. Had it been Bakugo or Midoriya, Shouto too wouldn’t be so quick to accept this outcome.
The gentle light flooding through the office windows recedes a fraction as a dense cloud covers the sun. His visit to the Blast Zone is but a blip of time, cut short by the foreboding ring from Bakugo’s emergency pager. He’s up and moving immediately, routine woven into him like muscle memory, and Shouto can’t help feeling jealous.
Under the door to his office, Bakugo clears his throat. He cocks his head toward the impending rain, “You need me to have someone drive you home?” And appears to regret it right away as Shouto smiles up at him, touched by the suggestion.
“No, thanks but I’ll be fine,” he waves off. Bakugo departs with a grunt, demanding he take an umbrella from the receptionist, because who doesn’t check the weather before they leave the house. The thud of his work boots reverberate off the walls as he disappears around a sharp corner, and Shouto shifts in the residual silence.
He takes out his phone as he pushes upright on his crutch; a habit rather than necessity. You haven’t messaged him since before your paths crossed—though you wouldn’t know that. He sighs. A niggling guilt has burrowed into his chest but it remains largely outweighed by his impatience.
Employees greet him on his short journey to the lift he arrived in. Bowing their heads, evoking his name with appreciation and awe while he’s scanning the space for signs of you. It’s a fruitless affair. Coming up short he steps inside, frown etched into his brow, and presses the ground floor button.
The speaker alerts him that the doors are about to close. He turns on his heel, leaning a hand on the support bar. Looking up from his shoes his eyes fall on your figure. You’ve stepped out from one of the closed off rooms, thumb tapping away at the phone in your hand. Shouto swallows, watching his own with trepidation.
Sensing a heavy gaze your eyes flicker to meet him at the last second, contact through the crack right as it shuts. He can hardly think. If this were a scene in Quirky Hearts he thinks he might just cast aside his dignity and sprint up the fire escape to confront you. The mere idea has heat simmering under his skin; it makes him want to fold himself into singularity. Shouto, a top five hero, a sword without ire.
Waiting dutifully, the receptionist hands him an umbrella from behind the staff desk. He squints at her name tag, muttering “Thank you, Akiyama-san” while he tucks the umbrella under his arm, deigning to mention the murky blueish blush that floods her skin, those pupil-less eyes shimmering. Shouto pulls his mask up over his nose, breath warming his cheeks, and takes a moment to observe the street.
Throngs of people scurry along the pavements to get away from the unforgiving chill. Raindrops can become a thousand paper cuts when the wind wills it. Afternoon starters amble into the lobby with wet shoulders. In his departure nobody so much as looks his way.
Sooba ▻ Hope you didn’t forget an umbrella today. Stay warm.
His thumb stopped mid-air, right above the “send” button. Sparing a lasting glance to the upper floors, Shouto quickly presses it, pockets his phone and opens up the umbrella. Stepping into the storm white noise fills his ears, tapping harshly on the PVC canopy over him.
Shouto tugs his jacket closer to his chest. The pavements are soaked, water fed into the uprooted cracks. He threads through the moving bodies back toward the station. With the streets overcast he feels better concealed.
A train is already waiting at the platform, decorated in yellow. The colour identifies it as a slow running train, taking the local stops route rather than the rapid one. He hides in his collar and stands in the corner of the carriage, umbrella collapsed and hooked over his wrist.
Six stops later—rather than three—and Shouto is closer to home. In the time it took to reach his street the rain had thinned out, now a sparse sun shower as the clouds pushed eastward.
Nori yells accusingly the very second his key slots into the door. He turns the lock and pushes it open, holding out his foot to keep her from rushing past. “I know, I know. I’m sorry sweet girl,” he scratched her head while bent to line up his shoes. “I missed you too. Bakugo said ‘hi’”.
She mewls and circles in place on her delicate paws, flicking her tail at him. Shouto takes it as forgiveness. “I think I met someone special today,” he recites to her, “The one I told you about…”
Stopping in the middle of his warm apartment, Shouto becomes unbearably aware of how damp his clothes are. He fishes his phone and wallet out from his pockets and sets them on the kitchen island before padding toward the bathroom.
A thorough rinse and long soak later, Shouto sprawls himself across his couch, phone laid on his chest and arm hung loosely over the edge while Nori plays with his fingers. She clings to his forearm as he cups her full belly, lazily dragging her back and forth across the floor.
He’s sipping on the mouth of his water bottle, mindlessly watching as Aki-or-something begs for Saeko-or-other to take him back after going on a date with another contestant, when your messages come through on Enigmail.
InsertNameHere ▻ Guess what happened today ▻ Saw Pro Hero Shouto at work. ▻ I think he might hate me? lol
Shouto inhales sharply, choking on his mouthful of water. Tears prickle behind his eyes as his diaphragm spasms, and he tries to catch his breath, fist thudding at his chest. Oscillating between mortification and delight—it really had been you.
Sooba ▻ Why would you think he hates you?
InsertNameHere ▻ I left an awful impression. And he looked at me like this (⊙_⊙’) the whole time.
Heat burns at his nape; embarrassment spilling over into every crevice of his body. The air around him distorts and he exhales, steam curling from his lips. Nori watches on from the floor in fascination, sparing no sympathy. Maybe Bakugo had a point.
Sooba ▻ Maybe that’s just his face.
InsertNameHere ▻ Maybe… ▻ It is a pretty face though. Prettier in person.
Shouto feels all the air deflate from his body. He sinks into the couch, head lolling against his shoulder as he turns to press a grin into the cushions, gripped by a sudden rush of endorphins. It had been you. You’re real. More importantly, you are attainable.
Now did he want to do anything about it?
Sooba ▻ You think so??
The typing dots bounce along the chat room border as you reply.
InsertNameHere ▻ I know so. I was there. Beautiful even when he is staring right through me ( ̄ロ ̄lll)
The memory of you speaking his name echoes like a broken record. He has yet to tire of it. Though he’s lightheaded and hazy, your features are still clear in his mind. The sure fire in your eyes, your sharp tongue and your pouty lips. A slow, warm tension trickles into his gut, swooping in anticipation and breathless longing as he imagines the face you might make if he touched you.
Sooba ▻ That’s presumptuous. He was staring at you. Why wouldn’t he be
InsertNameHere ▻ I. ▻ You’re so unfair you know that ▻ If you were here I would
His breathing picks up ever so slightly.
Sooba ▻ What would you do with me
InsertNameHere ▻ Are we veering into sexting territory right now
Sooba ▻ Unintentionally.
Shouto shifts his hips. The movement pulls his sweatpants tighter around his hips and a familiar tingling rushes below his waist. When was the last time he touched himself? He brings the phone to his forehead for a moment of clarity, peering up at the screen through his eyelashes.
InsertNameHere ▻ Is this the part where we come full circle and you actually send me a dick pic
He tucks his chin, a lazy smile playing on his lips. The gentle throb in his briefs pulses throughout his body and he answers, reaching to squeeze himself through the fabric, just for relief.
Nori sneezes. He falters, reminded of her presence and overcome by the urge to cover up. Proverbial tail between his legs, Shouto retreats to the privacy of his bedroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. Evening filters in through the windows, mauve and rosy. He kneels on the bed and it yields under his weight, frame silent while he crawls to the headboard and reclines back, phone in hand.
▻ Shit, sorry. I was joking you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to
The message goes over his head. He opens the front camera and stares back at his flushed, disheveled face before tilting the device, angling it toward his body.
Frosted fingertips trail up his stomach and it jumps, laying the hem of his shirt across his chest. Down again to the fine dark hair below his belly button, goosebumps rising across skin, blood rushing to the surface. Hooks his thumb suggestively into his waistband, hand splayed across his hip, and takes the photo.
Sooba ▻ [IMG_628] ▻ I want to
Shouto. Shouto. Shouto. Abuzz with salacious apprehension he wonders what would it sound like above him? Under him? Breath knocked from your lungs, whining through the motions. He traces the outline of his clock. Covers his eyes with the crook of his arm and releases a shuddered breath, hips rising into the heel of his hand. A hand too big to be yours. Sweatpants pushed halfway down his thighs he pictured it anyway—you laid on your side, at his side, loose fist stroking him root to weeping tip.
Shouto thumbs at the head, smearing precum over his sensitive frenulum. Panting heavier, he squeezes his cock and wonders, would you tease him? Lick into his mouth and tell him not to be quiet?
The phone in his hand buzzes. Anticipation grips his heart. He almost drops it on his face when he squints up to read the screen.
InsertNameHere ▻ Fuck. You’re so gorgeous ▻ I can’t concentrate
Sooba ▻ You like it?
InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll show you how much ▻ [IMG_447]
Heat races through him. You’re in a loose tank top, touching yourself over pale boyshorts. The dark straps have fallen around your shoulders in an almost demure manner, collar slipping forward to reveal the soft cleavage of your chest. You’ve mirrored his position, albeit a little higher, enough for your mouth to be in frame. Wet and rouge, if he thinks hard enough he can imagine he left them kiss bitten.
Sooba ▻ I want to touch you
He’s desperate to know what you like. The way you want to be touched, how you might yield under his wandering hands. Patterns dance behind his eyelids as he reaches to knead his pecs, pinching the pert nipple with a breathy moan. He smooths over his abdomen, corded muscle tensing beneath the added sensation, arousal coiling hot in his belly.
InsertNameHere ▻ Touch yourself for me instead, yeah? ▻ Gonna think about you too
“Fuck,” he chokes. Shouto loses his phone amongst the sheets. Feet planted flat to the mattress, his knees spread until the waistband protests. “Please. Please. I’m so close,” he whispers to the image in his mind. His pace stutters, feverish as he fucks his fist. Your lips brush soft along the column of his throat to feel him swallow. He turns into the pillow, mouth parted for heaving breath.
“That’s it Shouto. So beautiful for me,” you’ll murmur, so at home in the crook of his body. Amidst the desperation you’ll straddle his thigh, rhythm synchronized, chests rising. Your hand—his hand—slips further, fingers curled to press up behind his balls. He’s on fire. “Cum for me, baby. Let me see you cum”.
Shouto’s head tips back into the plush of his pillow, every muscle clenched. Pleasure rockets through him. His cock twitches in his grasp. He cums with a strung out moan, breaking into short, wet pants as he catches his breath.
Riding the gentle aftershocks, his arm falls heavily to the side and hits his bedsheets with a quiet thud. The smell of old petrichor blows into his room with the draft draws his attention to the darkened window. Streaks of gold sunlight peak between the buildings across the street where it settles under the horizon.
The stickiness between his fingers is difficult to ignore. Drying steadily on his chest. Reality returns to him slowly as he stares at his soiled hand. After cleaning himself up with the wipes in his bedside table, Shouto tugs up his sweatpants and rubs at the pink splotches leading up his throat. With clarity comes a vague haze of shame and he is loudly alone; something vibrates and he is anything but lonely. He lifts his head, rummaging through the sheets to find his phone.
InsertNameHere ▻ Want you to feel good ▻ You there baby? ▻ Sooba? ▻ Hm. That’s not the sexiest of names
Shouto laughed through his nose. Endeared by your awkward jump from flirting to nervously making up for a perceived misstep.
Sooba ▻ sorry can’t multitask ▻ shouldnt make fun of your house husbands name
Exiting his bedroom is uncomfortably close to a wall of shame. He drags his feet; gait unsteady for far nicer reasons than a near career ending injury. Nori has acquired his spot on the couch, retaining warmth in his absence. She observes him, all knowing.
InsertNameHere ▻ No capitalised letters? Punctuation? What have you done with my Sooba lol ▻ How are you feeling?
Sooba ▻ really good. sleepy
He wanders to the kitchen and dithers over his next message, leaning his forearms on the cool countertop. This fleeting, unintended conversation could change everything and that fact is starting to nag at him.
▻ what about you
InsertNameHere ▻ I feel really good. And sleepy <3
The implication is not lost on him. He chews his bottom lip, flustered at just how pleased that makes him.
The next burst of chat bubbles appear in an instant, one after another. Typed hastily as though to outrun your own apprehension.
▻ Can I ask you something?  ▻ Did you mean it when you said you’d come to the event with me? ▻ I have a plus one. I want to see you. But you don’t have to 
Shouto swallows. Tugged between elation and fear. You’ve become all he yearns for and you could be just that, his, yet he panics all the same. Heroism had consistently been his lacquered shield. An excuse for his self isolation that people had to begrudgingly accept. Working himself to the bone afforded the luxury of never having to dwell on it. 
Exhaustion aside he was content with the humdrum life he hid behind. Before you, Shouto rarely wanted for anything. He had his family, and good friends, and a job that felt rewarding; it didn’t seem worth it to lay himself bare and be dissected on the off chance that someone new might love him. 
Because hectic work and risks aside, he’s profoundly aware of the ghosts he has yet to conquer. That somewhere, there is something fundamentally different inside him that you might find disappointing. 
Unthinkingly, Shouto grapples with the courage in him existing on the fringes and replies in much the same way you had. 
Sooba ▻ I meant it. I want to see you too.  ▻ I’d like to go with you  ▻ Don’t worry about a plus one. I’ll meet you there 
InsertNameHere ▻ Wow, okay. That was easier than I thought. I’m so excited  ▻ And super nervous
As it turns out the impending date motivates Shouto like nothing before. Days pass without fault or interruption. The man-shaped dent in his couch rises without the constant weight. He sticks closely to the routine his physiotherapist drew up for him. Walks longer distances and soaks up the sun daily, to Tsutomu’s great delight. 
Too wrapped up in his own coalesced anxiety and elation, he realises he hadn’t found it remotely odd that you hadn’t questioned his ability to get into the auction. 
His train of thought is interrupted by a firm hand coming down on his shoulder. “Man of the hour!” A familiar sharp toothed grin blocks his vision. Shouto clenches under the sudden weight to keep himself upright as Kirishima gives him a shake, “We missed you around here. You’re looking good!”
The charity event is in full swing. An anticipatory lull permeates the atmosphere as the chosen guests, heroes and civilians alike, wait for the auction to finally begin. Shouto arrived fashionably late, as Mina called it, after spending nearly three hours on a group call with her, Yaoyorozu, and his sister. 
The applause upon his entry had not been expected. His palms are still clammy. 
Compared to Shouto's charcoal three piece suit, tailored to precision, Kirishima dons a charmingly loud burgundy blazer over a dark turtleneck, pulled together by a simple chain. The material is tight across his broad shoulders. “Thank you, Kirishima,” Shouto smiles. He looks him over, “You look good too”. 
That signature grin grows weary. “You really think so?” Kirishima lowers his voice into a hush, tugging at the loose hair framing his face. “I wasn’t so sure about tying my hair back. What if nobody bids for me? I’m dying inside just thinking about it”. 
Shouto turns away from the sea of vibrant clothing and chatter to pat his friend on the arm and level him with a serious look. “A lot of people are going to spend money on you tonight, Kirishima. But in the impossible event that they don’t I’ll bid on you myself,” he tells him. “We can go to Mythoscape and try that new rollercoaster”. 
“Bro…” Kirishima’s eyes are wide and glassy. While Shouto expects the firm hug, he is mildly surprised by the long, dramatic kiss to his cheek. His breath smells faintly of white wine. “You’re the best,” he continues as he sets Shouto back on his feet. “But is it really okay for you to do that?”
A flash goes off. Shouto frowns. He scans the crowd and rubs away the wet mark left behind. Yaoyorozu catches his attention with a delicate wave from her place beside Kendo and Uraraka. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, smiling back, yet distracted. You’re still nowhere to be found. 
“Well,” Kirishima draws breath through his teeth. “Bakugo kinda told me about your crush on his PA,” whatever he sees pass over Shouto’s expression has him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and scrambling to explain. “Nothing bad, man! You know he actually seemed pretty approving of it, in his own way”. 
The evermoving mass of bodies sharpens around a few other familiar faces. Midoriya is excitedly gesticulating as he rambles to a visibly overwhelmed HSPC shareholder. Bakugo watches the interaction with no intention of concealing his amusement. 
“I’m not sure about that,” Shouto rasps, narrowing his eyes at the man in question, like the pressure behind it might be enough to elicit his attention. Bakugo of all the people here would know where you are. The phone snug in his inside blazer pocket remains silent. A pout works its way onto his lips before he can stop it. “He said I’m bad at flirting”. 
Kirishima stifles a laugh and clears his throat when Shouto directs the petulant glare to him. “You are a little bad at it. But only when you’re actually trying! And even then that’s part of what makes it charming, y’know?”
“No, I don’t know”. 
“You’re the type to flirt without realising you’re doing it—or atleast people think you are, because you’re handsome and attentive and whatnot. But when you try it’s kinda obvious and bro, please stop looking at me like that,” Kirishima explains clumsily, tone pitching higher the longer he talks. 
Shouto’s lips thin as he tries to suppress a smirk. He rights himself as Kirishima nudges his side, catching a smile of his own, “What I meant is you have a chance. And Bakubro thinks so too. He wants you to be happy”. 
The sentiment warms him from the inside out. But it also makes apparent something trepid and cold in his gut. Regardless of his friends unfettered support there remains the real possibility that he will be rejected. That you will be disappointed or scared away by his status. That you could do as you please with the intimate parts of his life ‘Sooba’ gave you.
Scarier is the hope that you won’t.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Shouto announces, noticing Endeavor prowling around in his peripheral vision. Kirishima’s brow furrows, mouth parted in confusion, no doubt seeking to reassure him. “I’m okay, Kirishima. I just need something to do with my hands”. 
“Alright,” the taller man murmurs. Shouto finds himself at the end of a gentle smile once more. “Make sure to say ‘hi’ to Denks if you see him. He misses you too”.
“I will,” Shouto nods, ducking away from the inexpressible tenderness that has clung to him since stepping into the hall. People part to allow him through. His left leg has already begun to feel weak, not enough to worry but enough to notice, and he hopes he can later blame his gait on the alcohol. 
He reaches the bar and wrinkles his nose at the thick amalgamation of perfume, body odour and over-applied cologne. The bartender slides up to him. “Umeshu, please,” he says. “On the rocks”. 
Another body settles beside him. He shifts to accommodate them but doesn’t look; too distracted as he inhales deeply through his nose and exhales long out his mouth to allay his beating heart. Pulling his phone out from his inside pocket, the screen lights up and he finds it void of messages. 
After the… sexting, things had been fine. Better in a lot of ways. You both felt emboldened to truly act on your feelings. Sharing more pictures, secrets—though never your names—and laughter.  It is disconcerting that you would now go silent. 
The bartender sets his drink down and Shouto quietly gives his thanks, bringing it to his face, briefly caught in the soft glimmer, cubed ice submerged in liquid gold, tasting the sweet aroma at the back of his throat. He tips it back and drinks. 
As the glass hits the surface once more, the person next to him softly asks, “Are you waiting on anyone?” 
And his mouth goes dry. 
You’re bracing on crossed arms, watching him closely. Speckled in the warm low light reflected on the bar, you are more beautiful than he remembers, and just as nervous. There’s an air of uncertainty about you that shifts as your eyes meet, faint but palpable, encouraged by what he can imagine is the wonder on his own face. 
Shouto wets his lips. The plum taste lingers on his tongue. “…I might be,” he murmurs. You brighten at his reciprocation, a more charged kind of nervous—the kind that swoops low in your belly right before you take a leap. 
“If I’m wrong don’t laugh and don’t tell Dynamite,” you turn to face him and smooth your hands over your hips. This allows him a better look at your attire. Silken fabrics that form gentle lines around the waist, loose but elegantly so, not in a way that the clothes wear you. 
Your eyes dipped low, averted to avoid his stare. He cannot seem to direct it anywhere else. The auction has fallen away in its entirety. As far as Shouto is concerned there’s only you. 
“It’s me. And you’re…Sooba?” 
The tremble in your voice shrikes through him and it occurs to Shouto that you have always been the brave one.
He leans into your space, enjoying the way you quickly draw breath at his proximity, forced to meet his gaze. Rather than something remotely suave or cool, he dumbly asks, “You knew?”
Part of him wants to tuck his shoulders to his ears as you begin to laugh. They’re warm, undoubtedly red. Amusement is not at all what he prepared for. He thought this might all end up in his scrapbook memory, to be taken out and pined over now and then. 
“Shouto-san with all due respect, you came to my workplace with your very recognisable crutches and stared at me like a deer in headlights”. 
“Shouto,” he says. 
Your laughter simmers, “Hm?”
“Just call me Shouto,” he tells you, equal parts relieved and embarrassed. 
“Shouto,” you smile at him with a fondness that derails his thoughts. He has the vague urge to whine when it wanes. “I’m—I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. I swear I didn’t know until after you visited the agency. It all made sense after I looked up your socials and saw some old pictures of Nori”. 
“It’s alright. I knew and didn’t say anything either,” Shouto inclines his head, abashed. Then with a sudden sharp sort of clarity, he continues, “So then you knew, when you asked for a dick—?”
Words evade him under the warm press of your hand as you quickly cover his mouth. You glance around the room, closer than before, and you don’t seem to realise. Cautious, he touches your waist; he puckers his lips to kiss your palm; he feels your stomach jump under the silky fabrics. 
Your eyes darken, swallowed by pupil. “You’re a menace,” you simper, and reluctantly pull away. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere with less…cameras”. 
Umeshu abandoned, Shouto wraps an arm around your lower back and allows you to direct him through the crowd. You weave through the moving bodies like thread through a needle, at one point reaching behind to take his wrist, becoming his tether.
Bakugo meets his gaze from across the room. His eyes flit to you, widening in surprise. Shouto flashes a boyish grin before disappearing through the side door. 
The door you choose next opens to a private bathroom. Shouto surges forward, taking you by the hips and crowding you against the bathroom counter, overcome by the need to feel everything that you are pressing into everything that is him.
He kicks the door behind him and settles in the clutch of your thighs as you scramble to balance on the marble edge. Your hands slide over his shoulders, splaying over each cheek. You’re both breathing heavily despite having done nothing at all.
“I said talk,” you remind him with a tremulous smile. Shouto knows you’re being playful. He apologises anyway; rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting the moment simmer, and you comb through his hair with your fingers. A shiver rolls down his spine. 
“Did you know it was me? Before you came to the agency, I mean”. 
He reclines from his crook to look at you. Eye level, silhouetted by the cheap bathroom luminescence. “When I saw you in there—and put it together I was so scared,” you continued. 
“Scared?” he echoed with a frown, knuckles brushing your cheek. 
“Not like that. I was scared of what you might think,” you turn into his caress and his pinched expression falls away. He can’t stop touching you and he can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. “I mean, I looked terrible that day, and you appeared out of nowhere and I wasn’t mad it was you. I was just…”
You swallow thickly, emotion swelling in your eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners. “You’re so big and bright. I didn’t want you to be disappointed”.
You were unaware of it—the profound cord you struck within him. How even in anonymity, your incorporeal fingers always seemed to find it. Even now, as you echo his own fears. 
“Momo first mentioned you might work for Bakugo. I didn’t know before I saw you that day. I still wasn’t certain until tonight”. You peer at him through your lashes then, listening intently. He brings your foreheads together and tells you, “There is no way you could’ve disappointed me”. 
“Oh? I could’ve been a villain”.
“My oldest brother was a villain,” he monotoned, wandering hands squeezing intermittently at your waist as though to make sure you’re still there. “My capacity for love and forgiveness knows no bounds”. 
You snort. The sound is abrupt and the force knocks your skulls together. “Oh—ow,” he grins, insides melting. Together you dissolve into a warm fit of laughter. 
“Hey, Shouto?” 
He hums in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering as your thumb swipes over the red mark below his hairline. “I like you,” you murmur. “I like you so much it’s stupid”.  
Plunged into an ice cold realisation, Shouto freezes to process your words. “You—like me?” 
“Yeah?” you said it like he was dense, like it was clear all along. “I can’t help it when you’re so…yourself”
And isn’t that all he’s ever wanted? To be loved without pretense, without a winner. To be special to someone for no special reason. 
“Oh,” he breathes. “Me too. I like you. I want—” his fingers flex at your hips, grounding. He blinks. “I don’t know your name yet”. 
Affection colours your features. Shouto likes you best like this—sure of yourself, of his feelings for you. You recite your name. He repeats it endlessly in his mind and rolls it around his teeth. He calls to you even when you’re right in front of him. 
“Can I kiss you now?” 
“You were waiting?” you laugh, tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s such a novel thing but it makes something monumental swell in his chest. “Kiss me. I want you to”. 
Given permission, Shouto traces the curve of your jaw with a bold shyness, from the sensitive skin below your ear to your chin. His finger hooks beneath. You’re lovely. He thinks he could spend an hour describing your demure half smile, how your lips yield under the light pressure of his thumb; your tongue darting out reflexively. 
He shakes at the desire that fills him. He’s not used to it—this wanting. It feels like a thousand insatiable butterflies in his chest. Dipping into your magnetism, his heart beat faster and faster with the simple brush of your lips. He kissed you, innocent and honest, and then he kissed you again, licking the seam of your mouth, arms coiling around your middle as you cling to him. 
You tip forward. Your thighs clench at his waist and drag him impossibly close. It brings you chest to chest. He tries to hold you steadfast as your hand wraps around his nape, softly scratching his scalp; he feels you smile against his lips when he shudders. 
You break for air. Arousal shoots through him at your half moan, the sound tapering into a happy hum the instant his lips trail down your neck, tasting your pulse before making his way down to your exposed collar. He peppers kiss after kiss on every swathe of skin he can reach, sinking teeth into every little reaction you give him. 
Big hands at your lower back arch your body into his. You yield, tension sapped from your limbs, grappling his shoulders to keep yourself from falling while you grind down on his lap. Shouto groans, grip slipping lower to cup your ass. 
“We’re getting carried away,” you gasp between kisses. That alone was obvious. His cock strains uselessly in his suit pants. But the light glints tantalisingly along your mouth, swollen and wet with saliva. Shouto kisses you again so you won’t have to tell him to attend to his responsibilities. 
A warm breath scores his cheek as you huff through your nose, nipping firmly at his lower lip. “I mean it. I am technically still at work,” you try again, voice lacking strength. “Dynamite will knock on every door in this building—don’t wrinkle your nose, you know I’m right”.
“Alright. I know,” he rasps, barely an exhale. It takes all his willpower to pull away. He steadies you on your feet, smoothing out the creases in your formal attire while you are quite pleased to simply watch on as he adjusts himself in his pants. “I’m glad my suffering is funny to you”. 
“Don’t be dramatic,” you murmur, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I'll hide with you in the corner like I promised I would. We can make up for lost time after the auction. You know. The one for charity”. 
Shouto hums and reaches for the door, knowing you’ve won. “Oh. I told Kirishima I’d bid for his date night,” he recalls as he turns the handle. “Would that bother you?” 
“Of course not baby,” you reply and take one last look at your reflection, less disheveled than before. The endearment ‘baby’ almost has him walking into the doorframe.
You straighten up. Shouto thinks he must look incredibly dumbstruck, if your concerned expression is any indication. “You okay?” you ask, proffering your hand. “You didn’t bring your crutches tonight, did you?”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” he intertwines your fingers, dizzy as you squeeze around him. 
“It’s just a tremor”. 
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bangficsx · 3 months
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PLANNERS
pairing : jungkook x reader insert
word count : 7777 [coincidence ;)]
synopsis : wedding planner hooks up with the bride's cousin
warning : slight dry humping, teasing, blowjob, fingering, cum swallowing, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it's just a fic), a dick pic i don't think there's anything else..
"I already got the number given for how many tables and chairs are to be set up" the man tells you, leaving you in disbelief.
"I think you have a misunderstanding. I'm the event manager. I was supposed to have a meeting with you about it." You try to put forward your argument which gets dismissed again immediately.
"A certain gentleman came two hours before and told me everything in detail" the man answers getting irritated by your insistence about his mistake.
"Now please do not waste my time miss. I've got a lot of other clients." You turn around and roll your eyes, stomping forward murmuring "again".
It wasn't the first time your job got done by your customer. You have never met one like this before in the hundreds of weddings and events you've arranged. Why pay a hefty sum to you if they want to do everything on their own?
You make up your mind and set out on a quest to find the mysterious man who keeps completing the tasks he hired you to perform. And you've already assumed he must be the typical arrogant asshole from your nightmares.
The next morning, you leave for the photographer's studio three hours early. You were supposed to meet them to decide the lighting and type of camera that is to be used. What kind of shots the couple wants.
In your two year long career, you've never had an upset client. You try your best to deliver the exact kind of wedding they must've dreamt of for their whole lives.
The wedding ceremony is one of the most important events of a human's life. The most joyous celebration that unites two individuals and families together.
And you make those dreams come true. It's in your hand to control all that is controllable on that most special day of someone's life.
This wedding is by far the most expensive one you've ever handled. Usually you would manage two or three in a month. But they put a condition asking  you only focus on theirs for the month the wedding's scheduled in.
The groom started his own tech company at just 20 and earned a name for himself. While the bride is the ceo of a pharmaceutical company her dad left to her.
You ask your photographer if they got any emails about your event and when they checked they actually had one. You asked them for the address ensuring them there would be no consequences.
When you search the email address, you find it mentioned on a linked in account. You assume it must be the bride Si-young's cousin as you clearly remember her telling you she doesn't have any siblings of her own.
You find the man has attended a business school abroad and has professional posts about the company. Again you assume, he must work in the company too. Probably hold some influential position and hence, acts like such an asshole.
You also come from a well to do family yet you never understood why rich people spend money on services they don't even use.
You look at the picture of the man carefully. A pretty good looking man for sure. And you smirk when you find him in the car that's driving up the street just like you expected.
You feel stupid that you'd shared the schedule with them to assure everything would be done in time. There was a fair amount of time left yet you were working everyday as it was a big scale event, a grand affair. Two business tycoons coming together along with their souls and hearts.
You walk upto the spot where he parks his car. Resolute to give him an earful about what has been happening for the last week.
You stand with your hands folded waiting for him to ask what you want and to gladly tell him to let you do your job. He walks past you and enters the studio leaving you gasping.
You stomp your feet and follow him. Fuming in anger, you call behind him "excuse me mister what do you think are you doing huh?"
He keeps talking with the photographer showing her samples that you were supposed to show and tells them they want better ones than those.
"Mr Jeon!" You call him again. He finally turns around.
"Can I help you?" He asks as if he's clueless.
"Yes. I think you're aware that Ms Si-young and her fiancé have appointed me as their wedding planner. I'm the one whose supposed to perform the tasks you've been performing. It's my job" You finally release all your pent up frustration.
"It's complicated" he says and turns around to continue his conversation.
"Excuse me sir do you not understand how much inconvenience you've been causing me. I have been wasting my precious time and money to travel miles only to find you've already done the job" you shout unable to believe something like this could ever happen.
"Look it's not my problem. I told Si-young that I would look after every little detail about her wedding. It's not my fault if she paid someone to do it. Just keep the money." He says with an expression that says he wants you to fuck off but you aren't going to give up so easily.
Going away with free money is easy. But you're not gonna do that. It's a large sum of money that you received. And you need to manage this event to enhance your portfolio. Grabbing this opportunity is so far your biggest achievement. If you do this you'd be able to kick all the asses that laughed on your face when you told them your career choice was becoming an event manager.
And your stubbornness resulted into the gentleman bringing you to a café to explain to you why he wants to arrange everything by himself. How much it means to him. What Si-young denies to accept.
"Her dad died when she was nineteen. She was abroad studying when he was on his deathbed. I was by his side through out his sickness. And his dream was to have a perfect wedding for his only daughter. Look she's the only thing he ever had. Her mother died before he could marry her. He meant a lot to me because you see my dad all our fortune drinking and gambling. Uncle took me in and provided me with the best of opportunities and education and in turn it helped me send money to my family. He saved us and now I want to fulfill his last wish and dream. That's why I want to arrange the whole wedding. Ensure everything is absolutely perfect. Si-young likes to flex her money, she thinks just spending lots of money will get her the perfect wedding day. She doesn't understands only someone who deeply cares and loves her would ensure perfection." You feel attacked and he surely knows he's being rude to make you run but you're not going to, not so easily.
You've had enough experience dealing with people who won't trust you. Parents of brides and grooms, brides and grooms themselves, even your own parents.
You quickly pull your tablet put and open your browser which already has a tab open with your website on it.
"Well Sir I'd like to tell you I've been an event manager with an expertise in wedding planning for two years now. I've successfully managed a hundred weddings now and this is my profile. As you can probably see with your own eyes I'm able to put up the best possible events." You tell him proudly because nobody else ever takes pride in you.
"Look I've told you I want to do it and I'm going to do it no matter how much you try to" he says again and you can't bear it anymore.
You lash out "You don't understand how hard I've worked to get here alright. I've worked my ass off the past four years. Two years as an intern where I worked like a dog and then at my own company. I have been able to get here based on sheer hard work and nothing else. I'm not gonna let you snatch it away from me." He watches your nostrils flare, and your skin turn red.
"Alright calm down. Take a deep breath" he says before he sighs.
"Please" You can't believe yourself and takes everything in you to stoop like this but you speak the word out.
It's the way you ask him that he relates to you in some sense. He knows what working hard is like and can tell from your eyes you're speaking the truth.
"Can we do it together then?" He offers.
You roll your eyes at him, contemplate then answer "fine"
"So easy.. you had to make it so hard" he chuckles and you look away trying to hide your smile.
"At least get a black coffee for self respect. You're embarrassing me along with yourself" You point out that you two have been sitting for too long without ordering something.
"Sorry" he mumbles before ordering.
"It's okay" you respond.
"You just wanna... keep... sitting on the same table" he asks fearing another outburst from you.
"People might misinterpret if I suddenly leave and sit somewhere else." You answer. Think it might benefit both of you.
"How so?" He asks. You don't understand if he lacks experience assuming he might have drowned himself in studies first and now work or he's just messing with you and having his own fun in it.
"We looked like we were fighting. They might think we were a couple... and we broke up" you answer clearing all his doubts.
"You're kinda clever you know" he says.
"No doubt" you answer.
Your coffees arrive and you both silently sip from your cups. He keeps glancing at you then at the table. Covers his mouth not known to you, he's covering a foolish grin, a blush because he can't stop looking at you and get reminded of how cute he found you in control of anger. How he adores a smart woman who can take a stand for themselves and don't give up.
"You know complete silence can be misinterpreted in a way too" he leans over the table folding his arms.
"Certainly" you agree. Also you are finding it impossible to resist the urge to talk to him.
A part of you is unable to believe you are having coffee even that you're sitting at the same table with a person who studied from one of the top business schools of the world.
"You want a sandwich or something... lemme compensate you for all the money you spent at least obviously I can't return you the time" he speaks looking around for the waitress. Before you can refuse he has already ordered two. You didn't say anything because you could hear your stomach grumbling in hunger. You hadn't eaten a proper dinner last night too.
"You know I kinda understand her dad and you too" your words grab his attention. He looks at you, fluttering his eyes, without any shame not moving them away.
"Hmm" he finds himself at a lack of words.
"It's pretty important to my dad too... That someday my wedding goes well if it happens. But we aren't really on good terms anymore so I don't really know what's gonna happen when the time comes" you tell him. Mustering the courage to finally open up. You've been in your shell for way too long now. It's been five months since you and your girlfriend broke up.
"What happened" he asks trying to not offend. "If you're comfortable to share" he quickly adds.
Your sandwiches arrive right before you start answering, "He wanted me to be an engineer but I had no interest in that area. So he didn't help me tuition for undergrad or anything at all. Mom is a homemaker so she couldn't help me as such. Then when I started my business even then he didn't give any seed money or anything. So far I've been able to manage on my own so I guess I'll arrange my own wedding by myself too. I've got one life, I'm gonna live it out on my own terms. I don't give a fuck anymore" you bite a huge piece off your sandwich not caring what he thinks.
"I'm proud of you" he mutters.
You are surprised to hear that and make no efforts to hide that, "What... what did you just say?" You ask.
"Oh you heard it. You're strong and self made so..." he scratches his nape nervously.
"Thanks" you tell him.
You take another bite of your sandwich.
"Also my parents don't know that I'm bi" You blurt out, kinda on purpose to see if he's gonna back off because of that but it doesn't budges him. He seems to be absolutely fine with it. And there have been many who have left after you state that fact about yourself.
When you both finish eating you walk outside the café together.
"Sorry for wasting your time like that" you apologise. "You seem like you have a serious job"
"No it's not like that... it's all for Si-young and she means a lot to me, even more than my own siblings." He quickly explains.
"Wine tasting tomorrow 5pm" You remind him although he must already have it pinned on his schedule.
"See ya" he leaves after getting in his car. He wanted to ask you to get in the car and drop you wherever it was you needed to go but he had a meeting in an hour and had to prepare for it.
The next day, you meet again. You feel guilty of the excitement of sorts that you hold in your heart to meet him again.
You thought about him all day long the day before, all night and all morning. He was beautiful and kind. Inspiring and caring. You'd never met a guy like that before.
You skip your usual pants and shirt work outfit and instead wear a dress. With a denim jacket on top and boots to walk in.
The wine seller was not a long distance away from your place. You had a home office setup and were saving for an actual office.
You find that Jungkook has already reached the location and was waiting for you. You feel embarrassed not knowing for how long he's been there.
He walks upto you and greets you and you do the same. You walk inside together.
"We have a booking for a wine tasting" you ask the receptionist who points at an old man sitting in a corner. She asks him to take over.
You and Jungkook sit at a table with glasses placed in front of you. The old man uninterested to work asks you to just tell whichever tastes best after showing you samples from what they offer at weddings. You know that the place has the best wines so you don't object towards the behaviour.
"Should we try this one first?" He asks.
You both try the same wines and wait for a few seconds for the taste to settle in.
"No way" You answer. He chuckles and nods.
"OK, trust me this isn't their best" you tell him quickly not letting him doubt your choice of wine seller.
"You've had the best one before?" He asks.
"Yeah someone gifted me once" you get reminded of your ex who brought it for your anniversary. It brings back all the bitter memories from your breakup. It was the longest, strongest relationship of your life yet it ended in such a bad way. You still haven't completely forgotten her.
"Jungkook" you take his name as if he's a friend of yours.
"Yeah everything alright?" He senses the change in your tone and expressions because he hasn't looked anywhere else.
"Can you... can you please taste these and tell me which one you like best? I'm sure you have a great taste in alcohol." You request him. He looks at you and nods.
He picks up a glass and drinks from it. You're sure he must have a hundred questions rushing through his mind but he's not asking them out of politeness.
"Don't wanna kill you with curiosity it's just because my last ex and to be honest one of the best ones brought the best wine from here for our anniversary so I don't wanna taste it and remember it all again. It was pretty terrible... the break up" you purse your lips.
"I'm not curious about those things" he sips another wine and makes a face furrowing his eyebrows. You don't know what to make of it, it looks like he's gonna get angry at you for bringing you to a place which has not a single good one.
"How are these their bestsellers... like what the fuck is even happening here" you look around to call someone and ask them if they actually arranged you the best samples.
"No wait... fuck.." he takes another sip. "Heaven" a moan escapes his mouth before he presses his lips together.
"You like it? I was worried, thought you were gonna get angry at me" you sigh in relief and he laughs, giggles looking at your face.
"Why would I ever get angry at you?" He shrugs his shoulders.
"I boasted about this particular place so I'm bound to be questioned if it doesn't turns out as per the expectations I have planted in someone else's mind. Part of my job is to have a varied taste because different people like different things and I have to cater to their needs accordingly." You speak and he was mesmerized with you.
"You speak so well... damn. You really are passionate about what you do" hee says.
"Yes I am" you confirm.
"I like people with passion for their jobs" he says. You feel butterflies in your tummy. You know how he's indirectly pointing at you.
"So... should I go sort it out with them?" You ask.
"You know... you could drink some other wine. I don't like getting drunk alone" he says.
"Well if you feel like that" you buy a mid range bottle for yourself and ask for a glass. It's not necessarily a place to sit and drink in, yet you two are the only ones there. And you don't like making people feel lonely so you'd better get a little drunk too. And wine makes you feel kinda cosy, drunk but still like yourself.
You can see that he is tipsy. He buys the wine he liked for himself. Once you're both finished you step outside the store.
"How did you get here?" You ask.
"Took a cab" he answers. "Driving wouldn't have been a smart thing to do if I knew I was gonna drink" he adds.
"Don't you have like drivers" you ask curiously. The alcohol starts to have it's effects with the passage of time.
"Not me" he answers your query.
"Hope you aren't getting late for any plans" he says checking if you haven't forgotten about something.
"Why are you curious now?" You smirk.
"Don't want you to blame me later that I got you drunk"
"I drank out of my own will. Just say you're curious to know if I have a partner. I can sense your intentions very well Jeon" you walk away from him but he giggles and steps closer again. You move away again and he pulls you, gently holding your arm.
"Hey I have no such intentions" he denies.
"I'm not so naive to not notice" you keep walking forward with a straight face.
You are certain of what's going on inside his mind. You were sure of your attraction when you first saw him. You've had enough of crying over your ex and remembering the things she did to you. All you need is someone else to do even better things to you.
"By the way... how old are you?" He asks hesitantly.
"Not a minor for sure" you try to annoy him.
"Real age please ma'am" he rolls his eyes.
"Turning 24 in a couple months" you tell him wondering if he's older than you or if he would be uncomfortable that you're younger than him.
"I'm 26, means I can talk informally with  you" he states without you asking.
You don't know why you keep walking further. Even though you know you should just take a cab and go back home yet it's like you're waiting for something. You want to just get even the glimpse of an opportunity. Even though a part of you knows it's not completely right but that adds to the thrill of it all.
"Are you sure you don't have someone waiting for you?" You ask him indirectly.
You are begging inside your heart to know that he's single.
You can't stop the trail of dirty thoughts that follows as you see his skin shining with the layer of sweat that's covering his face. He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, you see him bite his lip before he looks at you with a hint of lust in his eyes.
"Umm no. I have been single for like two years now. My ex left behind a lot of damage too. Took me a lot of therapy and strength to get through it all. We dated four years, I thought she was the one and only and well..." he pauses. You understand what he means and nod.
"I'm sure your little heart will heal" you pat his chest lightly and he smiles. His hand brushes yours as he shifts to walk closer to you even though you barely had an inch between you two.
The image of him biting his lip replays in your mind. You glance at his lips again which he parts making you avert your gaze before he notices.
He's in a leather jacket, white t-shirt, black skinny jeans. Your eyes travel south and get a quick look at the fabric hugging his toned thighs. You wonder if how many abs he's got under the shirt. Fuck, you can't believe your brain is fantasizing about a man you've only met twice when the sun has just started to set.
"You're curious about so many things right now but you aren't asking isn't it?" You smile looking at him. Try to ease the tension because you can sense it building in him too.
"Oh come what do you think I'm even curious about?" He scoffs.
"We're all curious about things Jungkook" you say. You almost trip over a rock but he holds your hand. He keeps holding it just in case you lose balance again. You both are equally tipsy.
"Well what are you curious about?" He asks after a moment.
"Well you know like what happens after death? What will happen to me if the number of people getting married keeps decreasing? What cock tastes like?" The last one makes him cough and stare you.
"You're so drunk" he says.
"Not so much" you tell him.
"Then repeat what you just said" he says
"Why?" You fold your arms over your chest narrowing your eyes at him.
"Why is that a thing you're the most curious about?" He blurts out.
"You're asking like you have some position open for a blow job giver" you joke.
"Like you'd apply for the job" he adds.
You look around people don't give a fuck they're busy minding their own business. You regret saying what you said but yet you let go.
"Have you been to the wedding venue yet?" You ask changing the topic.
"Just checked it out on the internet" he says.
"Wanna go check it out?" You ask.
"I'm kinda tired what about tomorrow?" He offers.
"We've only walked like 500 metres" you chuckle.
"I'm sure it's more than a thousand" he says.
You reach the bus stand from where you can get a bus to your place. He stands beside you.
"You should get a cab. I'll just get on the bus." You tell him. You sense the disappointment in his eyes, but for some reason he doesn't express his desire.
"Okay. If that's what you want" he takes his phone out from his pocket.
You feel foolish waiting for him to turn around and say something. He keeps tapping his foot on the ground, looking at his phone.
The next day arrives after much anticipation. You get late, losing time in doing makeup.
The blood rushes to your cheeks everytime you think about him. You slept last night dreaming about his face, his lips, his delicate features.
You wait on the road for the cab to arrive. Jungkook texts you that he's on his way.
The banquet's in a hotel where the ceremony will take place.
Last night you both had no other options. You don't think each other's homes would've been a great option and there were no motels in sight either. He didn't even bring his car which could've been a compromise you would've made.
Now being in a hotel means you have the opportunity on hand you just have to catch it.
You give him a tour of the place. You have permission to enter the hotel at any time since they all know you are a wedding planner and you're managing an event there in a month.
As soon as he finds you both in a secluded corner he's quick to make the offer.
"You do know what I'm expecting?"
"What? For me to pay for lunch?" You tease him.
"For your curiosity to die" he answers.
"I don't wanna die so young" you tell him.
"Sure can't before you taste cock" you cringe hearing him phrase your words. You know it's just skin and flesh, it can't have it's own taste. It's not like pussy which you've tasted many times but only your ex's. You were drunk, wanted to be suggestive towards him and hence made that up.
"Well I don't have anyone right now whom I'd like to suck off" you tease him more. Kinda like to watch him get desperate.
"Think again" he says. You almost laugh but like how direct he's acting. He has hope evident in his eyes.
"Thought so hard my head hurts" you answer to play a level further than him.
"You're killing me" he says making you walk backwards and hit your back against the wall. Although he keeps his hand behind you so that you don't get hurt.
"No I'm not" you say.
"I'll buy you pretty things" he says. Keeps his hands beside your head.
"I'm weird I don't like pretty things" you joke, enjoy the way he hisses with frustration.
"Then I'll buy you ugly things. Or whatever you like..."
"Excuse me.. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy" you clarify. He sighs. Gets closer.
"I know you want me and you're fighting it. And I want you so bad... you can't even imagine" you hold to him for support as he stands dangerously close to you, staring into your eyes. You pull him a little closer and with the tip of your tongue lick his lower lip. The metal of his lip ring feels cold as your tongue glides over it.
Before he ends up losing all control, he takes your hand and barges into an open room. You raise your eyebrows finding it very questionable what he just did.
"I already booked it" he smirks before he  sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you above his lap.
You sit on him a bit hesitantly knowing he has a growing erection underneath his pants, causing him to act like this.
"Don't act so innocent" he whispers before pulling you closer with his hands on your hips. His hardness presses to your crotch.
You wrap your legs tighter around him.
He tangles his fingers with your hair. You lean closer to him but he doesn't kisses you. You try to get your lips on his but he keeps moving his face, touching his lips and his nose on your cheeks and neck and behind your ears.
"Don't" you whisper.
"Like you didn't" he puts a peck on your lips then pulls back again before you can fully kiss him. You let out a complaining groan and give up on trying to kiss him. He'll do it on his own because you know he wants it too.
"So desperate aren't you..." he presses his lips near yours. "Yet you were giving me such a hard time"
"You were the one denying your very obvious interest in me... and I was kinda nervous because I've never before hooked up with my clients or anyone related" you tell him. He chuckles.
"That's because you help people plan their weddings silly... it would be really problematic if you hook up with someone who's about to get married" you laugh at his words. The vibrations of your laugh travel to him, as both of your chests remain pressed together.
"And if it's not them it's their parents, that's way worse" you both giggle before he tucks your hair behind your ear and finally kisses you.
You hold his head to not let him go and slowly move your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your actions with the same passion you show. He gently grazes his teeth over your lip. You squeeze his nape lightly.
His hands travel down your neck and you look down as he unbuttons your shirt. It's brown to go with your black trousers. Your bra is just a cotton one. You washed your only lace one and it didn't dry in time to wear in the morning.
Jungkook cups your breast as he kisses down your cleavage. You fiddle with his buttons too. You really want to see what's underneath. He's insanely beautiful for a man and you feel jealous of his soft, silky hair. You have to carry out a whole ten step haircare routine through out the week to keep your hair frizz free and prevent dryness.
When he kisses you again, you grind yourself against him a little. He moans into your mouth. It's evident how close to the edge he is.
"You know if you want I can help you with that" you say as you feel wetness seep from your own folds as you stay pressed against his hard cock.
"Oh please... please..." he pulls himself away a little. Palms himself before you move his hand away.
You keep your hand on his chest and make him lie down. You have always liked how bouncy hotel mattresses tend to be. He giggles but quiets down as your hand reaches the button of his jeans.
You grip him from above his clothes and he pushes himself up against your hand. You unbutton his jeans after rubbing him for a few seconds.
Slowly you pull down his boxers too. And adore how pretty and thick he is. Your first man in four years and you're glad to grab a nice one. You feel evil to think of him like this but who cares, you both are just here to fool around, have fun.
You had a boyfriend when you were around nineteen to twenty and since then you only dated women. You did go on a couple dates with guys but none of them worked out.
You pull his jeans down his hips around his thighs. His cock is fully hard, the tip shines with precum. You make him lose his shirt too revealing the tattoo sleeve. You had gotten a glimpse of tattoos sneaking up his sleeve but had no idea that he had a whole hand full of them.
"Pretty tattoos" you remark and he smiles grazing his fingers on his arm.
"Tell me about them after you cum" you say making him chuckle.
"For that you have to start somewhere... I'm dying please" he whines.
You're quick to oblige. Your hands wrap around his dick. You give him a few pumps before licking his length.
You keep moving your hands around the base as you suck the top. He let's out muffled moans as you continue.
Somehow you get lost in the way he moans, knowing it's because of you, that you still can make people feel good. You were skeptical of yourself for a while after your ex labelled sex with you at the end of your relationship as average. You had always had a thrilling sex life with your partners, trying new things, new locations, new positions and techniques yet somehow you grew boring to her.
And here a man lay in front of you, groaning and moaning, definitely not faking it, with the way he was twitching and throbbing inside your mouth.
You keep going without thinking much. You find him responding well and if you keep doing it he'll reach climax and that is what you want for him, to get some release. He's been stressed about his cousin's approaching wedding and you assume his work life must be hectic too.
He grabs your hair in his fist trying his best to not hurt you. His grip loosens as you feel a warm liquid fill your mouth. The taste is a mix of things you can't describe with just one word. Before you swallow the first spurt another gets released out from his tip. Your clit throbs so bad, your heart beats so fast, you feel so wet, you just want to pull your pants down and make yourself cum if nobody's gonna do it for you. You feel an ache in your pussy and an urgent need to relieve yourself from it.
Jungkook lies with his head buried in the pillows. When he looks at you there's a shine to his face, his eyes. He has no care for how he came so much that too in your mouth.
"Either you make me cum right now or I'm making myself" you say pushing your trousers down as you lie beside him. You throw your shirt away too.
"Alright do it then..." he says. "Let's see how hard you can make yourself cum" his words sends another chill down your spine.
"Well then" you sit comfortably on the bed. Then part your legs. He watches carefully. You slowly push your panties to the side. Touch your clit and moan as the touch feels heavenly.
But the way that your pussy is all wet and messy and pretty Jungkook can't resist the temptation.
He sits beside you and slowly trails his hand up your thigh. You continue to rub your clit not caring what he thinks. Why would you do it's not like he means anything to you.
He doesn't removes your finger instead pushes his into your hole. "Fuck" you moan as he tries to find the sweet spot.
You increase your pace of stroking your clit.
With his free hand, he pushes the fabric of your bra down to expose your breasts just enough to get access to your nipples. He circles his thumb around the hardened buds.
As his finger continues to circle on your g-spot, he wraps his mouth around your nipple. His tongue circles around. He sucks trying to take in more of your boob into his mouth. You find it hard to maintain your rhythm of clit rubbing.
Yet as you find yourself too close to the climax, you're motivated to keep going. You just know it's going to be very hard. And with your moans and expressions, he finds his motivation too. He presses the tip of his finger against your walls.
You feel an unbearable pressure build inside you. Desperately trying to get relief. He's amazed how fast your hand starts moving. His eyes don't move away from your cunt neither does his finger pressing on your g-spot.
He takes your tit inside his mouth again. Your moans intensify as it finally snaps. Your thighs shake, you see the stars, think you've died for a second. It travels from your head to toe. You remove your hand but he doesn't.
Through the overstimulation he brings to you another unbearable pressure which turns into a wave of pleasure as you lose all control and squirt, shaking uncontrollably. Jungkook pulls his hand away and watches as you rub yourself again and spray more of the liquid soaking the sheets. You keep rubbing yourself and an orgasm combines with it. The control of your body has gone from you to your orgasm.
Jungkook moans watching you as his hand reaches his own cock thats hard again. He starts to pump himself as you catch your breath, your body still shakes.
"You surely enjoyed that" he says.
"Very much" you answer.
"Can we fuck now?" He asks. It's inevitable. You didn't think you'd come this hard in front of him. You look at his cock hard and ready to fuck you senseless.
Your lingering gaze tells him enough. He takes position above you. And before you know his tip is massaging your insides as he thrusts himself again and again.
Your phone starts suddenly ringing and with the surprise he sits up still holding his shaft. You fumble with the objects inside your handbag and take your phone out.
It was the hotel manager telling you they've arranged a special meal for you and your guest. Jungkook rubs himself against your clit and you almost moan yet he doesn't stops instead smirks.
As soon as you cut the call, he starts to fuck you again this time relentlessly. You both struggle to hold for long and come within minutes. He pulls out at the right moment, makes a mess all over your tummy and you clench around nothing as a short quick orgasm washes over you.
It's hard to speak after what you two did. You decided to take turns to shower. Thankfully you had an emergency pair of panties in your handbag which remains there all the time in case you unexpectedly start your period.
It's a rooftop setting where your food was. You had developed an appetite after the things you did that had tired you out immensely. You hadn't expected this at all, you were firm before entering the room that you'll just make out with him but so is life and it's happenings, one thing leads to another.
You sit across the table from Jungkook.
"It got a little crazy I'm sorry. I just lost..." he interrupts you and you wait for him to speak, "It was so fucking good... don't you dare try and deny that" he gives you a serious look and you chuckle.
"It'd been a while since I had fun like that. Sometimes one needs that right?" He nods, mouth stuffed with food. Would've bought you food regardless the hotel offered it or not.
"Bet you can say Si-young did a good job hiring me?" You joke.
He bites his lip before he laughs lowly.
"We're done with bookings now. I talked over a few things with the hotel. Guess I'm gonna see you for the final checks now" you speak in a low tone.
When you think about it you're gonna miss him even though it isn't a long time that you two spent together. There's just something about him that does something to your heart which you don't understand.
"Actually I have to go on a trip abroad and I don't know how long it's gonna take to wrap up the work although I'll be here for the wedding anyhow" he tells you. His voice is low. You know how much he wants to look after preparations firsthand.
"Hey don't worry. I hope you have some sort of trust on me now. I'll work my ass off to make sure your sister has the perfect wedding. And I'll give you updates every fifteen minutes." You say reach his hand that rests on the table.
"I'm counting on you" he says tightly holding your hand.
"You can" you answer.
Over the next few weeks you try to make contact with him but the time difference makes it impossible for you to have a conversation with him in real time. Mostly you send him updates regarding the wedding which is just work for you.
On a lucky day, you catch him online at an ungodly hour. You find out he's drunk. He keeps mentioning the sex you both had. Explains in detail, the things he liked which is almost everything about it. You're surprised he remembers it in such detail.
He sends you a pic of his erect penis says he's thinking about how you came and he hopes you look at it and make yourself come even harder. Everytime you are playing with yourself, you do remember the way his fingers worked and try to replicate it. The orgasms are strong that way and with his image in your mind even more.
You have no idea how you're gonna get him out of your mind. Although it brings you some peace that you're in his mind too.
He was in another country, he could be fucking anyone. It's not like he has to try too hard to get some. Yet he was thinking about you while jerking off. He liked the parts which others found a mess and a pain in the ass.
It was the nicest feeling to have someone accept you, appreciate you, like the way your body is and the way you are.
Much to your disappointment, he could only arrive on the day of the wedding. Hours before the ceremony starts. You had completely forgotten about his arrival, drowned in work as you were.
You were checking the lighting and flowers all around the place when two hands touched your shoulders. You turn around freaked out. Although it could be a friend from the staff trying to tell you to relax.
When you look at him you can't belive that he made it. He hugs you and presses a kiss on your forehead.
"Thank you so much for looking after everything so well" he thanks you but you shake your head.
"I'm getting paid" you say, then whisper "a big sum" you add. Although money hadn't been the only motivation for you to work hard on this project.
"Look at you" he fixes your hair, "What has become of you? You work hard more than you need to" he lightly pats your cheek before he guides you to a room at the back.
"Now show me the dress you're wearing.  Will wank in advance so I don't get too horny if you're gonna look too hot" he says.
"What... there's no dress I'll just be wearing what I'm already wearing" you glance at yourself in the mirror, you put on a shirt with embellishments to look not too plain. You don't get ready for every wedding that you plan.
"Good I bought you one. I just saw this while walking on the street and thought how good this'll look on you" he opens his bag and takes a packet out. He rips it open and gives you the dress.
"And you're still interested in me? The time was enough to fall in love with someone new" you say as if he had ever been in love with you.
"I'm not so easy" he says.
"Tell someone else" you respond with a smug look on your face. He chuckles.
"Now are you gonna change or..." he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt.
You think of taking over for a moment but then let him do it.
You help him pull the shirt down your arms leaving you in your bra. His hand reaches your back and he unhooks your bra.
"Hey..." you hold his hand to stop him.
"What? The dress is padded" you hadn't really noticed even when he was showing you the dress you were just busy looking at him.
Your bra slips off and his hand wraps around your tits. He squeezes them then sucks your nipples one by one, covers your whole chest with small kisses. You feel the wetness growing, you can't get too distracted. You have to go out or everything will fall apart.
His hand goes down your navel and rests between your thighs. Your breath hitches as he presses his fingers against your pussy.
"Oops made you wet. Don't worry will gladly help you with it..." he smirks and you remain numb as he slips his hand inside your panties.
The tip of his middle finger presses against your clit. You whimper.
"I don't have time" you complain.
"Alright" he starts to rub you. Circles his finger around your clit.
You were so wet, so aroused. You started to grind yourself on his hand and suddenly came, your juices gushing, clit throbbing against his finger, thighs shaking, you hold him for support.
"Told ya" he chuckles then pulls his hand away and hands you the dress to wear.
You like the dress, it was complimenting his outfit when you two stand together.
He stands behind you and holds your hand bringing it to his throbbing hardness. You rub your fingers on him a little bit then turn towards him.
"I need to be out there to make sure you can ensure the perfect wedding for your cousin." You touch his cheeks.
"Wait for me here after the reception is over. I'll get here and then I'll make you make up for it" you nod giggling before you leave.
When you left the room, you had no idea this was the last time you were ever going to talk to him.
This was the last time you were ever going to see him.
You did come to the room and wait like he asked but instead of him a girl came.
Said she was just made his fiancé and was supposed to wait for him there like the bride had told her to.
You knew who the girl was. You knew where she sat. She was from a business family too.
In the end, like always you got proved wrong. Money emerged victorious over human emotions or feelings.
You might plan a thousand weddings after that but he will always remain a distinct memory. A mysterious man who won your heart in a way you could never describe.
784 notes · View notes
romanarose · 3 months
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Misunderstanding
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Marc Spector x fem!reader
Join my taglist! Masterlist Read on ao3
Summary: When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.
Warnings: PIV sex, wall sex, oral f!recieving, manhandling, rough needy smut but loving and passionate, anxiety attack, Marc's self loathing but reader adores him. Calling Marc all kinda of cute nick names.
Immersability: Reader is fem, afab. Reader can be largly supported against the wall by Marc's strong arms <3
A/N: Commission done for @minigirl87 thank you SOOOOOOO much for your patience!!! Next time I do commissions i need to not do them right before moving. Left me quite behind. Anyway appreciate you so much!
Support creators! Reblog!
2.2k words
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Chaos made Marc anxious.
So, that’s why you decided to do spring cleaning while he and the boys were at work, hoping to get most of it done before the boys returned from work. What threw all your plans out of whack was a chance spotting on facebook marketplace. The prettiest furniture you’ve ever seen in your life was for fucking free. The owners were cleaning out the house from their mom who just passed, and just wanted the furniture to go to someone who’d love it like their mom did. And boy did you love it. The style was French Louis XVI. Fucking beautiful. So, you were making room. 
A lot was going to be given away with permission from your boys, and you’d be doing a lot of reorganizing of Steven’s books. A lot of trash, oh my god so much trash. Marc sure did love take out, even if it drove Jakey crazy. Then your old furniture was hauled out into the street for the garbage on tuesday, or some desperate soul. You hadn’t quite gotten to organizing Steven’s books and papers, but the trash was picked up, floors swept and mopped, and the old furniture was out. You needed to pick up your dream furniture, so you hopped into your car.
Steven was elated he got to go home early. It was only an hour, but that’s an hour more with you!!! You loved extra time with you!! There was a spring in his step, happily humming along to some song on Jake’s playlist on their phone. 
Until he saw it.
‘Aye, ¿que es?’ Jak asked, interrupting Steven’s happy thoughts.
Marc. ‘Is that… our furniture?’ 
“Oh my god…” Steven murmurs, slowing his steps. All their things were on the street.
‘She’s leaving us.’
“Oh, will you calm the hell down.” But Steven was a little nervous. He walks up the apartment stairs, ready to find you and get it all sorted out but… you weren’t there. The place looked so bare, so empty… The pictures on the walls were taken down, all the memories together, clothes were half-sorted in the bedroom and sheets off the bed…
You were gone. You didn’t want them anymore.
Marc took the body, pulling out his phone and calling you multiple times, but you went straight to voicemail.
“She’s done with us” Marc groans, backing against the wall. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
‘Mate, you need to calm down’ Steven tried to assure Marc, but he was nervous too.
Marc slid down the wall, beginning to panic. “Not this again…”
Jake and Steven attempted to tell him there’s another reason, logically.
‘She wouldn't just us… leave us’ Jake insisted. ‘She’s not like that. She’d tell us if there was an issue.’
None of this helped calm Marc, and he mentally checked out, sitting against the wall on the floor staring out the window.
That’s how you found Marc, dissociating and mentally checked out when you got home.
“Marcy Marc? Baby? Are you okay?” You toss your keys onto the counter and approach him, but stop when he suddenly jerks towards you like a scared animal.
Marc looks up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he scrambles to stand up. “Holy shit, you’re here…” He mutters, dashing over to you. “Baby, whatever it is, I swear to god I’ll fix it-” Marc hugs you so tightly it knocks the breath out of you with the force of him, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Normally, you loved his bear hugs, they made you feel safe and oh-so loved, but right now his actions warned you he was upset. You always knew when your man was in distress, even when he tried to hide it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”
You hug him right back. “Marc, honey, what’s going on? You didn’t do anything wrong.” That you know of, but honestly you couldn’t foresee Marc, Jake or Steven doing anything bad enough for you to be upset about. Only thing would be… Gently, so he knows you aren’t rejecting his affection, you nudge him away so you can look in his eyes. However, you keep hold on his arms. Marc’s love language was physical touch, so you always showed your love to him this way.
“Baby…” You look into his eyes, keeping your tone and facial expressions soft. “Have you heard from Khonshu lately?”
Confusion spreads on Marc’s face, his already large eyes widening. “No! Nonononono is that what this is about? You thought I was with Khonshu again?”
You were confused too. “I didn’t think anything was happening until I came home and you were against the wall. Marc, sweetheart.” You search his face for answers. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m confused.”
He sputters a bit, trying to find the words. “Y-you’re leaving! You’re leaving us…”
You blink at him. “Huh? I’m not leaving you, god Marc, whatever got you this worked up? Sweetie, I’ve never been happier than with you three…”
“The furniture is on the street… Things are packed up… And, and and- the pictures! The pictures, they’re are taken down, our whole life together is off the walls-”
Ah. “Marc…” You realize what happened now. “Oh sweetheart, sweetie pie… I’m not leaving you. I’m doing spring cleaning. Remember, last week we went over what I could give away?”
The recognition slowly starts to spread across his face. “But… the pictures…”
“I took them down to wash the walls.”
“Oh… and the furniture?” It was beginning to click for him. This was all a misunderstanding.
You smile softly. “I found the coolest furniture. Steven will love it.”
He blinked. And again. “So… you don’t hate me?”
Your heart nearly broke at his words. “Oh Marc, no!” You gather him up in your arms again. “My sweet, sweet man I could never!”
You see his lip quiver a bit, but instead of crying Marc crashes his mouth into yours, large hands groping at your body with a fevur, like he couldn't believe you were real, that you were still here, still wanted him.
And he needed you.
“C’mere-” He grunted, gripping your asscheeks and pulling you towards him as he kisses you, mouth claiming yours in desperation.
Instantly you were filled with desire; Marc tended to do that to you. He was so handsome, so kind, so gentle you couldn’t help giving your all to him right away. Marc backed you up against the wall, the hand behind your head preventing you from smacking it against the plaster. He always looked out for you like that. You could feel his hardness as his wide hips ground into you, his plump pressed stomach against yours. You love how he’s softened, still so strong, but the safety of your home and the very idea that he wasn’t on the run and living in storage units… His body felt as safe as his mind did.
Marc’s mouth consumed you, licking into your mouth as his knee rid up between your legs. In loose, thin basketball shorts you felt his thick, manly thighs and sigh and pleasure.
“Marc…” You moan for him, unable to control the sounds of pleasure from escaping your mouth as you work yourself on his body. Hitching a leg up against his side, you cling to Marc for stability as he uses his grip on your ass for leverage, dragging you up and down on him. Marc’s kisses are insatiable, you feel as if he is attempting to breathe you in with heavy pants, kissing your lips and neck. Your face is wet from the open-mouth kisses.
Suddenly, and without warning, just as you are approaching the precipice humping his thigh, Marc pulls away and for a moment you think he got in his own head again, but then you are turned, face pressed against the wall but not painfully. Marc pulls your hips out, bends down to pull down your shorts and fucking picks you up by your pressed together legs to pull the shorts away. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he then kicks apart your ankles forcing your legs open. You aren’t even sure when Marc undid his pants, but before you know it, he is thrusting into your pliant and waiting body.
“M-Marc…” You repeat, his name the only thing on your mind is his name and his cock. Okay and maybe his hand wrapping around your front and snaking up your body. He plays with your grunts, grunting with his breaths hot against your ear and in time to the slamming thrusts of his hips. You brace against the wall, pushing your ass out more to take more of his length inside you.
“Thought I lost you…” He mutters, face tucked into your neck. 
“Never, never Ma- AH!” You cry out when he  squeezes a tit hard, pressing bruises through your shirt. “You-mmmph-you’re stuck with me.”
He pounds your core, rough thrusts mixed with soft kisses. You tilt your head back, desperate for his mouth, his love, his affection yours. He obliges, always knowing what you need and meeting your mouth to sloppily make out with you like horny teenagers. It was needy, it was desperate, it was Marc’s complete and utter relief that he was not going to be left shattered. He filled you over and over and again, the fat tip of his cock pressing up against that beautiful spot inside you. When you came, it was hard, pulsing on his cock again and again and again. Marc wrapped his arm under your middle as your legs began to feel like jell-o. 
“Mine.” He growls, spilling his cum inside you. “Fucking mine. Don’t every fucking scare me like that again.”
You want to tell him you didn’t that he jumped to his own conclusions but you were barely standing when he twirled you around again. Dropping to his knees, Marc looked up at you, large and wet brown eyes gazing at you in adoration. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful…
“I won’t…” You whisper down to his hopeful face. “I promise. I love you so much.”
With a relieved look on his face, Marc smiles at you and god is it nice to see him smile. “I love you too, baby.” With that, he hitches a leg over his shoulder and dives into your pussy. Between his cum and yours, it’s a mess down there and that’s further evidenced by the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth as he sluuuurped up the evidence of your time together. Marc was eager, eating his own cum out of you while keeping your supported against the wall. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall. His tongue swirled against your clit, making you buck against him so one hand pinned your hips to the wall. He ate like this was his last meal, like his salvation came from your pleasure.
When he sucked on the sensitive nub, you cry out his name and dig your fingers into Marc’s dark curls, keeping him close to you. As if he’d ever leave. You were close again, the whirling swirling feeling deep inside you continuing to build like a twister into a tornado as you chant Marc, Marc, Marc like the repetition of a Rosary. His tongue flicked inside you, one hand keeping you upright against the wall and the other playing with your clit, making you come apart directly into his mouth.
You pull on his hair so hard you worry you’re hurting him but the way Marc shoves his face into you even harder spurs you on. You can hear and feel him moaning into you as he laps up your release, a soft mmmmmm reverbating against your pussy and prolonging it as you ride his face. Your left leg is so tired, so sore, starting to wobble and Marc notices as he finally pulls away. Marc helps you slide down the wall, landing you safely on your bottom.
On his hands and knees, Marc Spector crawls to you, kissing your lips tenderly but you can see his own exhaustion too. Cupping his face in both your hands, you kiss Marc as you lay him down on your naked lap. You’re surprised with how quickly Marc’s full lashes flutter closed, his head resting between the crux of your thigh and stomach.
You play with his hair. He seems so tired, today must’ve taken it out of him. After a whole day of work, coming home to thinking you were gone. You know how anxiety can physically drain you.
“That really scared you, huh?” You say, petting him like a cat. You swear you can hear him pur.
Marc talks soft, sleepy, eyes never opening. “Yeah. Thought I lost you… I can’t do that.”
“I’ll never leave you, sweetie. And I’d certainly never leave like that… But I know how anxiety can be.”
His voice was groggy with sleep, quiet and muttered. “Yeah, it fuck’n sucks.” 
You can’t help but chuckle. “It does, baby, it does. But I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere. Can’t get rid of me if you tried, Spector.”
He hums constantly, and in another moment, Marc is snoring softly. He’s so cute.
Then, he’s snoring loudly.
Why didn’t Steven and Jake snore? Made no fucking sense.
Sighing, you settle back against the wall and maneuver enough to grab your shorts without waking your sleeping, tuckered out little boyfriend. You pull out your phone, take a few cute pictures (some with flowery or silly snapchat filters) then go play Candy Crush. He needed to rest.
Mostly, because he had a long day and was so so adorable when he was sleeping even if he was loud as all goddamn hell.
But also, you still had several pieces of furniture sitting in your car and there was no way you were going to move all of them yourself.
*************
We love a reader who can take care of an anxious baby <3
Thank you so much for reading!!!! This is my first marc, or any moon knight in a few months. I MISSED HIIIIIIMMMMMMMM
My beloved one <3
MY MOON KNIGHT RETURN IS HERE!!!!!!
I got a dark reader x marc coming up IF I OULD EVER GET A GOOD KNIGHTS SLEEP follow @romana-after-dark for that
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writerslittlelibrary · 4 months
Text
So, I'm not a prisoner? part 2
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masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra
summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…
pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader
warnings: like, one swear word 
genre: fluff, angst
words: 2554
a/n: I apologise if this chapter isn’t the best. I’m in a bit of a depression slum so I’m not really motivated to do anything right now. I might come back later and fix this chapter a bit
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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After leaving the apartment, you immediately noticed the SHIELD agents piled up outside. They must have been listening to your conversation. 
Natasha led you towards a SHIELD car, opening the door for you, allowing you to get in. She got in the drivers seat, and followed by about a dozen other SHIELD trucks, she drove towards an airport nearby. 
The Quinjet was waiting at the airport, Clint Barton apparently inside of it. 
“I know this must be very overwhelming for you,” Natasha spoke, glancing towards you before focusing on the road again. 
You stayed quiet, instead staring out the window as you watched all objects blur. 
“I promise you we are going to help you,” Natasha affirmed. You turned your head, looking at her. 
“You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you are certain they won’t lock me away the moment I set foot in there,” you stated, and Natasha looked at you, giving you a sad smile. 
“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you won’t be locked away,” Natasha started, focusing back on the road and taking a deep breath. 
“How can you be so sure?” you asked. 
“I’ll think of something. I can put you under my supervision. I can lock you in a room and make sure you can leave it with me. Anything. I will come up with anything,” Natasha assured you. You didn’t want to believe her. You didn’t believe her, yet for some reason, whether it was her tone or the way that she spoke, you couldn’t help but deep down, believe her, even just a little. 
You sighed and looked back out the window, wanting nothing but to wake up from this nightmare. 
Yet then again, if this were a nightmare, wouldn’t you just wake up in your old one?
Your mind was a mess, and you could hear all the voices in your head scream at you. You saw Madame B every time you closed your eyes, just yelling at you. Telling you what a screw-up you were. Telling you all the ways that you failed them.
You always hated Natasha Romanoff for being a traitor, but now you met her, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were wrong. 
And even if you weren’t, you were now officially a traitor as well. 
You wanted to make Dreykov proud. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? If you made him proud, you’d get rewarded. You were the pride jewel. He loved you, didn’t he? He cared about you. You weren’t some disposable Widow. You knew that. But, then again, he was the one that told you that. And could he really be trusted? 
You groaned slightly, rubbing your temple with your right hand and you closed your eyes. 
“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, giving you a concerned glance. 
“I’m fine,” you bit back quickly, hating to look weak. Natasha didn’t take you response as hurtful. She knew you weren’t actively trying to hurt her. She understood the way you were raised, and she’d be damned if she, or anyone else, would ever misunderstand you. 
The drive to the airport didn’t take long, and soon enough you could spot the Quinjet from the car. 
“You brought the Avengers superjet…?” you asked, and Natasha gave you a small smile as she nodded. “That’s not exactly subtle…” you told her, yet Natasha just shrugged. 
“It’s fast,” she responded, driving the car as close as she could get it to the Quinjet. Once she stopped the car, she got out, walking over to your side and opening the door for you. You didn’t acknowledge it as you got out, immediately noticing the other SHIELD trucks that were parked closely. 
Some agents stood outside their cars, their hand on their weapon as they watched you. 
You noticed a woman walking towards you, and you took a step back when you decided she was way to close. 
The woman didn’t acknowledge your defensive attitude, instead holding up a pair of handcuffs and reaching for your hands. 
You pulled your hands back, and before the woman could say anything, Natasha had noticed what was going on, stepping in front of you and stopping the woman. 
“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, despite the fact it was obvious. 
“It’s protocol,” the woman claimed, yet when she tried to step towards you again, Natasha stopped her. 
“She came willingly,” Natasha stated, but the woman just shook her head. 
You noticed neither of them were going to give up, and quite honestly you just wanted to get rid of the woman. And so, you took a step forward, holding up your hands to the woman, giving her an expecting look. 
Natasha looked a bit shocked, yet didn’t take long to place her hand on your arm. 
“You really don’t have to,” she stated, but you interrupted her. 
“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you stated, and the woman nodded as she made quick work of handcuffing you. 
After she was finished, Natasha gently took your upper arm, leading you towards the Quinjet. Clint Barton was already waiting on board, having a small smile on his face when he spotted you two. 
“Hey kid, nice to see you turn over a new leaf,” he said, yet you just scoffed. 
He didn’t seem offended, but rather just smiled and turned the chair around, facing the control panel. 
He pressed a few buttons, and the Quinjet closed.
“Take a seat. We’ll be flying for a few hours,” Natasha announced, and you nodded as you held up the pair of handcuffs. 
A look of shock and confusion took place on Natasha’s face, before she quickly regained herself and gave you her famous smirk. 
“Damn… You’re good good,” she told you, and you gave her a small smile before you sat down on a seat. 
Natasha discarded of the handcuffs, placing them in some cupboard before taking a seat next to you. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re not showing it, and you’ll never admit it, but I promise you, I will make sure everything is gonna be alright,” Natasha said, looking forward, not wanting to pressure you.
You would of course never let her know, but you appreciated what she said. You would indeed never admit it, but you were scared. 
You weren’t just scared of the Avengers, though. You were afraid of what Dreykov would do to you. You were afraid what he would think, and what he would say. He would be so disappointed. Natasha Romanoff was right there. The traitor is sitting right next to you. You could so very easily just kill her. Slit her throat. Her guard was down. She would never see it coming. Dreykov would be so proud. 
You weren’t sure whether you wanted to kill her, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself debating whether you should kill her or not. 
Never once in your life did you think about killing someone or not. Never once did you think about the consequences. I was always just another assignment. Another person you had to wipe from existence, and you never, ever, dared to give it a second thought.
This experience was weird for you. 
You didn’t really want to kill Natasha, but yet again, you were supposed to, so why wouldn’t you? It’s not like you really cared whether Natasha lived or died. Did you?
You simply sighed and let your head fall back against the wall behind you, closing your eyes and letting your thought run through your head. What would Dreykov say? You knew what he would say. Deep down, you knew he didn’t care. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
After the Quinjet landed, Natasha and Clint guided you through the Avengers tower, claiming they need to take you to an office so you could speak with the director, Nick Fury.
You, of course, knew exactly where that office was, yet you decided to keep your mouth shut and just follow them. You didn’t want to make this situation worse for yourself. You knew the entire lay-out of the Avengers towers, and you were pretty certain Natasha was aware of that. 
Once you took the elevator and made it to the office, Nick Fury was sitting behind his desk, Maria Hill standing of to the side with a clip board in her hand. 
There were Shield agents standing outside the door, and you were pretty sure they were there to make sure you couldn’t try anything. 
“Take a seat,” Nick Fury simply said, and you looked at Natasha unimpressed, before you took a step forward, setting yourself down in the seat at the other side of the desk, across from Nick Fury. 
“You understand we cannot trust you, correct?” Fury stated, and you looked him in the eyes, enough for him to accept it as a yes, apparently. 
“Director Hill,” Fury then mentioned, getting up from his seat. 
Maria Hill walked towards the desk, placing her clip board on it as she sat down herself. She gave you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 
You were focused on your surroundings. Clint had left the room. Natasha was leaning against the wall next to the door. She probably didn’t want to disturb the conversation, yet she didn’t want to leave you alone. Maybe she just wanted to keep her eye on you. 
Before Fury walked away, he turned to look at you.
“Don’t fuck this up,” he stated, before walking towards the door, leaving the room. 
You turned your gaze back to Maria, who had picked up a pen, now waiting for your attention to turn back to her. Once it did, she began speaking. 
“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and you just try and answer them to the best of you abilities,” she explained, and you nodded slightly. 
“Could you please state your full name and date of birth?” 
“Y/n, the rest I don’t know…” you replied, and Maria nodded. “Do you have any idea of how old you may be?” she asked and you nodded, giving her your assumed age. 
She wrote the information down, scratching some things out on the clipboard before turning to the next question. 
“Do you know where you were born?” she asked, and you nodded. 
“I was born in Russia, but I’m not sure whether my parents were Russian,” you explained, and Maria nodded as she wrote it all down. 
“Have you always been in Russia?” 
You shook your head, briefly telling her about certain mission you had been on that took longer than a month. 
There was that time in Seattle, when you lived with another Red Room Widow pretending to be your mother. You had gone to an actual school, and you had had actual friends. 
There was another time in the Netherlands, when you were with a Hydra agent. Something about a debt Dreykov owed to Alexander Pierce. You had been chosen for a mission with a Hydra agent. You were posing as a normal teenager, whose mother passed, which is why your father moved you all the way to the Netherlands. You enjoyed the learning the language, yet you found it one of the harder ones to master due to the many odd rules. 
Maria wrote every single detail you told her down, not missing a single thing as she made sure everything was on paper. 
After a few more questions, and many ‘I don’t know’s’ from you, Maria finally put her pen down, smiling at you gently. 
“That’s all for now,” she explained and you nodded. 
“Come on,” you heard Natasha say, and you got up, walking towards her. 
“See you later,” she told Maria before guiding you out. Were they a thing? Did Natasha see how Maria blushed? Did Natasha notice how she herself blushed? 
Whatever. 
Natasha led you towards the elevator, pressing a button, then entering a code. You learned about this. To get to the living quarters of the Avengers tower, you had to enter a code. This was to prevent any unwanted visitors in the living space of the Avengers. 
Once the elevator opened, Natasha led you out, guiding you towards a hallway. You followed her the entire way, making sure to walk at least a metre behind her. 
You weren’t allowed to walk next to your superiors, and even though you weren’t sure what you place in this tower would be, you didn’t want to take any chances. You didn’t want to stray to far from the manners you were taught. 
Natasha probably noticed, but whether she did or not, she decided not to mention it. 
Eventually, she stopped in front of a door, pushing a key in the keyhole and unlocking it. 
“This will be you room,” she smiled and pushed the door open. “My room is across from this one, and the only other people in this hallway are Wanda and Carol, but she is not often on earth,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as if you didn’t already know it.
You stepped into the bedroom, and it took you a moment to process the fact, that all that space, would be yours now. 
“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, waiting by the door. 
“It’s so… big…” you stated, slowly walking further into the room. Natasha smiled as she made her way towards another door. 
“This is the bathroom. I stocked it with some basic supplies beforehand, so you’ll probably be good for a little while, or just until we get the chance to go shopping,” Natasha stated as she closed the door again. 
“This is the closet,” she explained, walking over to the piece of furniture and opening it.
“Right now, there are just some things from me and Wanda that will probably be wearable for you, but we’ll get you some new clothes soon,” Natasha smiled, and you nodded. 
Natasha walked over to the desk, sitting down on the desk chair and looking at the ground. It seemed she had something to say, and it would be something you wouldn’t like. You took a seat on the bed, across from her, and simply waited until she spoke. 
“Now, because we do not know you, we cannot just let you roam freely around the tower. I managed to convince Fury you shouldn’t be put in a cell, but unfortunately, this door will have to be locked until further notice,” Natasha explained and you nodded. 
“He’d be stupid not to,” you replied, and Natasha nodded, giving you a small smile.
“I promise I will come check on you often, okay? And you can leave the room if you are accompanied, so I will make sure to take you on some daily walks or something, alright?” Natasha explained, and you nodded, giving her a smile in return. 
“I promise you, everything will only get better now,” Natasha told you, and you nodded as she got up, walking towards the door. 
“I’ll get you something to eat, and some entertainment,” she explained, and she left the room. 
Suddenly, you were left alone. This was your room. You made the choice. You were officially a traitor. There was no going back. You did this to yourself. You royally screwed up. Or perhaps, just maybe, you made a really good choice?...
Tags: @wandanatlov3r @tobiaslut @natashasgirlll @xanthreee
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey
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saatorubby · 1 year
Text
Cultural differences
Summary: Malleus's way of courting (dragon fae style) creates a misunderstanding between the two of you.
Or in which lilia is an old man™ and is having the time of his life.
A/n: In honor of the announcement of chapter 7, I decided to post this early. May all of you dragon simps get your dragon man. (it's me, I'm the dragon simps)
Genre: fluff
Pairings: Malleus Draconia x reader
Warnings: second person pov, you/your pronouns, gn!reader
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"Lilia, child of man doesn't make sense." Malleus was munching on fries, with a pout on his face. He was apparently, what lilia called 'sulking'. Let me assure you he was not! Absolutely not!
Lilia brought up his hand to his face to stifle a chuckle that escaped him at the sulking fae prince, who put another one of the fries in his mouth.
Lilia finds situations like these quite entertaining, he loves observing the youth of today. They are peculiar, to say the least.
Though lilia understands malleus's crisis, he couldn't help but be amused.
After all, how many times do you see a powerful fae at his knees for a magic-less human he befriended in an abandoned building.
"Well, tell me what happened," Lilia said with as much seriousness he could muster and put his teacup down.
Malleus' eyes lit up and he visibly perked up about getting the chance to talk about how he have been trying to court you.
"I took prefect for a walk with me in the woods behind ramshackle where we danced to once upon a dream." He lets out a dreamy sigh, his chin resting on the back of his hand.
What a wonderful night that was.
The sky seemed jewel studded with how many stars there were. Your warm hand in his considerably colder ones. An impulse to hold you closer. So he asked you for a dance to which you delightfully agreed, blush adorning your face. He will never forget the night when you two sang the greatest love song in all of the twisted wonderland together while dancing.
Eyes his went to your lips many times, but he was afraid he would scare you if became too bold so he restrained himself.
"It was good until that but then I tried to give them jewels from my treasury as a token of my affection, but they keep refusing! I don't know what I've done to anger them. I just wish to mend our relationship, lilia." Malleus let out a defeated sigh his lips formed into an adorable pout.
Lilia knew the meaning of the word treasury, what malleus really meant was his hoard. Like every good dragon, malleus has a hoard as well. It has all of the knick-knacks malleus collected over the long period he has been in twisted wonderland.
Let it be jewels worth millions of madols or a weird thing he found on the street, all of them has a special place in his hoard. He was allowed to take a part of it with him to Night Raven College when he came, the rest is in his treasury room in the palace of Briar Valley.
Lilia, who was far older than Malleus and well aware of human courting traditions, couldn't help but laugh endearingly at the young prince. He then adjusted his expression, looking fondly at the child he had raised, who had now become so old that he has his first love!
Oh...Lilia distantly remembers the feeling of falling in love for the first time, he doesn't remember his first love anymore, for their existence had been erased by the cruel, cruel time that doesn't spare anybody, but he does remember how he felt with them and how gentle they were with him.
At the time he was a battle-hardened General, a war hero, not exactly used to kindness, but he remembers that they were far kinder than anybody he had met before, even now after a few centuries later, he has yet to meet someone like them.
Lilia pulled himself back from memories of long forgotten past and turned to his prince.
"Malleus, they are human." Lilia said simply.
"I am aware lilia, I still dont see what I could have done to have them cross with me." Malleus gave lilia a half-hearted glare.
"Malleus, they are human. You are trying to court them like how dragons court their mate. They don't know how dragons court their mate. They aren't familiar with your courting methods." Lilia nodded towards malleus sipping on his tea, and malleus' eyes widened in realization. Of course! How could he have been so foolish!
Malleus shot lilia a grateful look and said a simple "thank you." And headed out to find you. He must fix this. He has to.
So, you weren't even aware that he was trying to court you? He let out a chuckle.
Of course, why didn't he think of it before? Oh yes, he was too engrossed in drowning in his misery that he didn't notice.
Well, he supposes it's not all lost, after all. He could just explain things, but ah! Humans don't receive precious jewels as a confession of their feelings.
He does have other ideas as to what to give you.
You were coming back from your class, after a long and exhausting day. Professor Trein had given you to write a ten-thousand-word essay on The Human-Fae War that happened in early 1300's.
Your face bloomed into an amused smile as grim grumbled about ace taking his sandwich. You let out an exasperated sigh. They may be idiots, but they are your idiots.
You got grim settled in the bed quickly. He was complaining about not getting enough sleep the whole way back and got yourself settled on the couch in the living room.
You took out your homework, your assignment sheets as well as books you've borrowed from the library and got to work.
It was fascinating really, how two species that hated each other so much could come together like this. Humans and Fae...they have a long-standing history of hate and slaughter. It's gruesome.
The war went on for almost a century.
You were halfway through the essay when, from the corner of your eyes, you saw green fireflies shimmering in your garden. You abandoned your work to greet your friend who, you're pretty sure, has been avoiding you for the past few days.
"Tsunotaro."
"Child of man."
The two of you stared at each other for a minute. Trying to read each other, either by expressions or literally trying to read thoughts in Malleus's case. (He would never do this without your permission, but he was contemplating it)
"Look I-"
"Child of man I-"
"...."
"You go first."
"You can go first."
You scratched the back of your neck with an air of awkwardness surrounding you.
"Okay...tsunotaro, I don't know what I did so that you got mad at me but I am sorry."
Malleus' eyes widened in bewilderment.
"Child of man...I thought you were cross with me." You thought he was angry with you...? A small tender smile formed on his black-painted lips. A smile that was much different from his usual teasing smile followed by a taunting remark. How the corners gently tilted upwards, a sparkle in his eyes that reflected an emotion you couldn't yet place, but you were sure that your eyes reflected the same.
Small laughter bubbled out of his mouth, and not being able to help it you let yourself chuckle with him.
The sound of his laughter was so alluring that you were left wondering whether he had put a spell on you.
Little did you know he wondered the same about you. You had either bewitched him or he was a fool, a fool in love.
"Well, then, I shall make it up to you, beastie. Would you do me the honor of granting me your company for a stroll in the woods once again?" Malleus asked, gallantly. He was quite over the top with his dramatics -posing in a bow, holding out a hand for you to take- while smiling teasingly.
"I would love to, tsunotaro." You couldn't help but chuckle at the dragon fae's antics. Taking his arm you strode along with him to the woods behind Ramshackle.
A gentleman as ever, Malleus produced something in his arm but hid it behind his back before you could take a peek.
"Hey! No fair!" You pouted, seeing your adorable face the future king couldn't help but smile endearingly.
"You shall wait patiently beastie. Patience is a virtue," he said as you strode towards your and Malleus's special place.
He had taken you there for a walk before once. It was a beautiful, beautiful night. Perhaps you should say magical.
Malleus had taken your hand and invited you for a dance. Holding you close like you were the most precious treasure he has ever held. Spinning you around like a fairytale prince (which he was). Your eyes went to his dark-painted lips many times that night, wishing to have a taste of what you thought to be the most forbidden fruit this world had to offer.
You danced and sang one of the songs from your home. Your eyes went to your eyebrows in surprise that the very same song existed here. Malleus seemed fond of the song as well. You could see his bright green eyes soften every time a word of the lyrics left his lips.
"We are here," he announced. You looked around, finding it hard to imagine such a place could be near the desolate place you had come to call your home.
It was a mountain stream. Beautiful, clear water flowed down the steep grades. Shining moonlight above it, making the water in it shine like stars had been brought down to earth.
"Child of man," Malleus quietly pulled you out of your daze. "I brought this for you." He said, but before he could bring out whatever he had been hiding behind his back, you fixed him a stern look.
"Mal, I told you that I can-" before you could say another word, his hand-that he had placed upon your mouth- cut you off.
"I know," Malleus began with an uncharacteristically tender look on his face. "Lilia explained that humans do not court as we do. So I have brought you this." He removed the hand from your mouth and brought out a bouquet from his back.
They were gorgeous, the flowers. The bouquet consisted of red and pink asters. You chuckled, you couldn't have picked more perfect flowers yourself, they were gorgeous but not enough to distract you from the meaning of them and his words from before.
Seeing your joyous reaction, Malleus's eyes filled with hope. "Child of man, I-" he started but before he could get out another syllable, you put your hand on his mouth and cut him off. Amusedly watching as his eyes widened in surprise, clearly not used to people cutting him off, especially in such a familiar manner.
"I would love to, Tsunotaro."
--
I wish I had a malleus.
Edit: for clarification pink asters mean sensitivity and love and red aster means undying devotion
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