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thisisalwaysmorethanoneknows · 1 month

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Sometimes Things Don't go as Expected

Chapter 7

Word Count: 1,811

Summary: In Queen Acacia's fight to gain more resources, Poseidra is nearly killed, having been an unexperienced soldier. She only survives this battle thanks to the help of a dragon that calls herself Karasu. Unfortunately for Poseidra, Karasu ends up asking for increasingly immoral favors as a method of repaying her generosity. Will Poseidra escape with her soul, or will she just become another Karasu?

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She took a deep breath after her long retelling of what happened. She had left out some details and she began to stumble when she got to Karasu’s rooms, she didn’t stop stumbling after that. Not once did she get interrupted by Mizo or Ray.

“I-I can’t believe you went through that,” Ray said, her voice solemn (something that didn’t match her. Poseidra would never get used to her sounding serious, she wanted to fix this).

“How did you handle all of that?” Mizo asked, “most dragons would go crazy from all of that.”

“Well, Mizo, it’s about time you told Poseidra your story,” Ray said.

“Why don’t you tell your story, Ray,” Mizo suggested, “I want to get my thoughts together.”

“I’m a normal SeaWing,” Ray said, “I don’t have anything to say.”

“Ray, you still have nightmares from your life,” Mizo pointed out, “I wouldn’t say it was perfect.”

“I know, but YOU know I don’t like talking about it,” Ray said, sounding annoyed, “even with you, and you know that!”

“And you know it takes me a while to word my story!” Mizo insisted, beginning to sound annoyed.

“Yes, even though you’ve told it plenty of times!” Ray said, their voice raising.

“Hey, let’s work this out peacefully,” Poseidra said nervously, unsure of why they had begun to fight so suddenly.

“Stay out of this Poseidra!” both dragons said at once.

“These are our issues, not yours!” Mizo said.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Ray yelled, angrily, “Mizo, YOU kept prodding, you could have just taken some time to think, you didn’t have to push it onto me!”

“You told me to tell my story first!” Mizo hissed.

“Because it hurts me to tell my story!” Ray argued.

“And what if it hurts me too?!” Mizo said, looking so very upset.

“You two, please, don’t fight,” Poseidra said, getting in between the SeaWings, “both of you are at fault, but there is no good excuse to fight! You can tell when both of you are ready! Just stop this!”

It made no sense, why had these dragons who seemed so close, begun fighting over something like that? Maybe they were just stressed, first Karasu, then her issues, they were all probably too stressful for some random dragons.

“Poseidra’s right,” Mizo suddenly said, “we need to stop fighting, I’ll go for a swim, and when I’m back, please calm down Ray.”

“And you’d better not make me reveal my past,” Ray said, still angry.

“Good, glad we see eye to eye there,” Mizo said.

Poseidra and Ray watched as Mizo walked away. Poseidra heard Ray sigh loudly.

“Please excuse Mizo,” Ray said, “they may be a dragon, but they still have many traits of what they are. They can’t exactly think like us.”

“What exactly is Mizo?” Poseidra asked, “I’ve been wanting to get an answer but neither of you have answered.”

“How do I put this simply? Mizo, while they have SeaWing blood, aren’t exactly a SeaWing,” Ray said, “they are what is known as a corrupted dragon. Although I am not sure what exactly happened, I know a lot of things happened to them, between physical stress/damage, and mental stress/damage, their biology reacted in an unusual way, and became what can only be described as a feral dragon.”

“That makes… SOME sense of why they look like that,” Poseidra said, “but not why they acted that way.”

“Put the pieces together, Poseidra!” Ray said, “they act that way because, alongside their body reverting to a more… animalistic state, their mind changed too, they can act like a normal dragon, and they do try, but they still have instincts acting for them. Which is why they can get angry faster.”

“Oh, that explains some, I’ll probably never understand it, but it’d be cool to see what other tribes look like in that state,” Poseidra said, “even though it takes a lot of bad to get there.”

“I just want to help Mizo with this,” Ray said, quietly, “they don’t want to be like this, but I can’t help them.”

“Ray…” Poseidra tried to say.

“Nevermind the gloomy mood,” Ray said, seeming to brighten, but it didn’t fool Poseidra, “we should do something, you should sleep actually, all that recalling your past probably was draining, then you can wake up tomorrow, and me and Mizu’ll have sorted everything out.”

“I’m good actually, it’s not that late,” Poseidra said, not wanting to leave the two alone to fight.

“No, no, it takes a bit for it to set in that you need sleep,” Ray said, “now go!”

She sighed, “fine, I guess,” Poseidra said, she walked away towards the hut, why was Ray acting so weird? Why did her life have to be so difficult?

“Hey Poseidra,” she heard, it was Ray, “so, Mizu still hasn’t come back, it’s been hours. I’m worried for him.”

“Ray, why did you push Mizo to tell their backstory? You didn’t push me,” Poseidra asked, wanting a proper answer.

“They pushed too!” Ray argued.

“Fighting fire with fire doesn’t help, it only makes things worse,” Poseidra pointed out.

“How would you know?! You fought fire with fire ONE time! Also, when you didn’t fight back, you killed dragons and stole artifacts!” Ray yelled.

“Why are you acting like this?!” Poseidra asked.

“Like what?” Ray asked.

“You’ve yelled at Mizu for not being ready to share their clearly painful story! You're telling me that my opinion doesn’t matter because of circumstances I had little control over!” Poseidra yelled, she felt tears on her face but she couldn’t care less, “why?! You’ve always acted so upbeat!”

“Maybe I don’t want to act upbeat, maybe that’s who I am! Would you really know from the short time you’ve known me?!” Ray stormed up to Poseidra, they looked much more tired.

“I’m tired of trying to figure out the dragons who saved my life,” Poseidra said exasperated, walking around Ray to the entrance, “regardless I’m going to go find Mizu, I need to calm them down after how you treated them!”

“Fine! Go!” Ray said, “see if I care!”

Poseidra ran out of the hut, tears streaming down her face, angry, confused, upset, and hurt. She didn’t know what happened with Ray, but she needed to make sure Mizu was ok. How was she going to find him though, because if she was them, she’d hide in the deepest parts of the ocean, where even Ray wouldn’t go. If they were there then there was no way for Poseidra to get there.

Poseidra looked to the sky, “why does life have to be so hard for me? There are dragons who live such easy lives, and yet here I am, look at where my life took me,” she said to herself, “I’ve almost lost my life twice, and I’ve lost every friend I made in under two years, why couldn’t I have just accepted Karasu’s punishment, then no other dragons would have been hurt.”

“Simple,” Poseidra froze up, of course she had been stalked by the dragon who used her and caused her so much pain, “you made poor choices, you blindly obeyed me, I got you under my talons because you were stupid, you couldn’t see past my actions, you didn’t even question me when I had you kill dragons. You’re a weak, idiotic, submissive, easily controlled dragon, of course your going to have a hard life, you were dealt a poor mental hand.”

“Karasu!” Poseidra snarled, “you-”

“But I’m correct, am I not?” Karasu asked, “if you were stronger you wouldn’t have almost died, if you were smarter you would have seen through my actions, if you weren’t so submissive, you wouldn’t be in a war, you wouldn’t have obeyed me so blindly, if you were harder to control you wouldn’t have lost everyone you cared about. See, if you lacked these negative traits, you would be ok, but here you are.”

“I- you may be correct or you may not but…” Poseidra started but quickly trailed off, she couldn’t argue, Karasu was correct.

“See, even you can see that I’m correct about you,” Karasu said, “my observation was not opinion based, I’m just speaking based off the facts presented by your actions.”

“I mean, I guess you’re right about that,” Poseidra said, “but that’s just who I am.”

“Dragons like you think about personality and morals, but you forget your self preservation instinct, you tell others sensitive information,” Karasu explained, “one day they’ll use that knowledge to harm you, and you’ll wish you had listened.”

“If I may ask, Karasu, why were you stalking me?” Poseidra asked, “like, don’t you have a kingdom to run?”

“Yes, but I still need to keep an eye on my most interesting project,” Karasu said, “can’t let my name get too well known, as that’d not be great.”

“But, not many dragons can enter your kingdom, right? So would that really be so bad?” Poseidra asked.

“If the BeathiaTails went extinct, maybe, but like would be expected our tribes don’t get along, doesn’t help that word got out about Ivy,” Karasu said.

“Ivy? Do you mean that dragon you maimed? How did word of her get outside your kingdom?” Poseidra asked.

“Probably that brat, Raven,” Karasu answered, sounding exasperated, “they ran off a few weeks ago, I’m pretty sure they went to the BeathiaTails to rat me out.”

“Raven is still alive? I assumed you would have killed them,” Poseidra said, surprised but relieved.

“Would’ve, but I saw that they could be useful alive, so I decided to let them live,” Karasu explained.

“Useful?” Poseidra asked.

“Yes, I decided they could help me control my pet, after all, emotional attachments are very useful,” Karasu stated.

That line caused Poseidra to shiver, despite what she had been through, that still creeped her out, "guess that didn't turn out too well for you," Poseidra said.

"It's not that bad, my tribe's fought other tribes many times," Karasu stated, "although, having a princess might make them fight harder against us. But that's just a mere inconvenience."

“They could be stronger than you realize,” Poseidra suggested, “what if they got other tribes on their side? Or have a bigger army than you remember?”

“Doubtful, besides, even if they can overpower a tribe, their queen can’t beat me if we fight one on one, the army cannot move if those in command are gone,” Karasu stated, “it’s simple strategies.”

“You know, you wouldn’t have these issues if you didn’t hurt so many dragons,” Poseidra pointed out, “hell, your tribe would probably be in better shape.”

“Your tribes view dark, death, destruction, and in turn, my tribe as bad, many of my tribe have been killed for what we are, “Karasu said, “as such, why not embody what they think they are killing? Fighting back, teaching them a lesson that will last lifetimes, after all, you learned a lesson you won’t forget.”

“Ok, enough of you forcing your bad world view onto me,” Poseidra said, “why are you here? You have nothing to gain from me.”

“You’re still a mildly useful tool, you still have friends, and you're still weak,” Karasu stated like fact, “I can still use you.”

“Ugh, fine, but if I’m going to continue to help you, I’d like to request your help,” Poseidra said, her tone even, despite knowing this could be a poor choice, “you can go anywhere that’s lacking light, correct?”

“Accurate,” Karasu said.

“Then you should be able to find Mizo, as they swim too deep for me to reach,” Poseidra said.

“The corrupted SeaWing?” Karasu asked.

“Yes,” Poseidra said

“Mmk, I’ll help,” Karasu surprisingly said, “it’ll be a hassle, but you're useful, and they could be a useful ally from what I’ve gathered. But understand this is the only time.”

“Understood!” Poseidra said.

“Good! I’m glad I don’t have to explain it to you, now I’d best be going,” and with that Karasu disappeared into the shadows, leaving Poseidra alone with her thoughts.

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Next >

#wings of fire #fanfic #wof #things are not always what they seem #sometimes things don't go as expected

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mirobami · 2 years

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Oh.

My.

God.

That little story with Kirari and the arranged mariage you wrote was just perfect! I do hope you will write a sequel!

Anyways, here the third request (yes, I have a lot of requests lmao)

Ririka

Minigame: Hearts

Hand: Two pair (and I've found a pretty idea on another tumblr page, I don't quite remember who, but here is the trope : one where you share extreme physical sensation after you find the soulmate; if one of you hurts, the other one hurts; if one of you is getting lucky the other one gets a little hot and bothered

Anyways, something like that. I think it can be interesting! Thak you again for your amazing talent in writing!

↳ the bonded feelings

♠️ CHARACTER: r. momobami

♠️ MATCH: Hearts (Enemies to Lovers) + Two Pair (Soulmate!AU)

♠️ NOTE: YAYAYAYAYAYAY I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT I'm gonna have to keep track of which ones to make sequels for omg keep those requests coming in they're so interesting >:D

“For the last time, stop following me!”

“I am not!”

You couldn’t see under Ririka’s mask but you knew that her face was flushed with anger towards you. You two had never gotten along since you first came into the school and were the first person to ever get the guts to demand to see who she is under her mask. She denied you at every turn, saying that she did not want you to see her. But due to you being her complete opposite, you gained an enemy just as well as her.

When you weren’t focused on being her enemy, you had your sights on being the top gambler in the school. However, you couldn’t deny that there was something else itching at your brain: soulmates. At every turn, you would hear a gasp or a squeal and that was from someone finally finding their soulmate. You were told that some people had strings attached to their pinky fingers and finally found the person at the end of the strings while other people had a clock on their wrist, letting them know when they would meet their soulmate.

Unlike everyone else, you didn’t have an obvious one. Yours was more discreet, and dare you say it? Slightly annoying. It was annoying how you would feel the worst feelings when you were at your greatest and you would feel a burst of manic happiness when you were crying into your pillow over something that happened earlier that day. Sometimes you were itchy all over and it wasn’t even a physical itch, which made you want to scream and claw at your skin. You didn’t even know who your soulmate was.

Now you were in the garden with Ririka right behind you and you finally whipped around to glare at her. “Look, I know that Kirari’s not here to cover for you so why don’t you hide behind your mask and go stand behind her like you always do?”

Your chest started to hurt as if you had heartburn but you don’t remember eating quickly this morning and your heart never did that when you were angry. Your soulmate was hurt.

Ririka’s ears were red and she stood her ground. She was much braver behind her mask, but it didn’t make her defiance any less great. “I’m not following you because I want to. This is the path to the secret garden I like to go to!”

“Oh yeah? It can’t be the same as mine.” You leaned against the tree and immediately jumped away from it with a yelp, rubbing your shoulder. However, it sunk in that Ririka had also jumped. Sometimes she giggled when you were accidentally hurt, but tried to quickly cover it up. This time, she jumped just as you did and her shoulder was hurt too.

Oh no. Oh no.

You pointed at her, declaring that you needed an answer. “There’s no way your shoulder hurts, you didn’t crash against the spiky part of a tree! Speaking of, cut it down, that was an offense to my entire bloodline.”

“First off, that tree is special to me. Second, my soulmate probably hurt their shoulder right now, that’s why I’m feeling it. I connect with my soulmate through what I’m...feeling...” Ririka stopped talking.

You froze. “Oh dear God, no.”

“I think we’re soulmates, Y/N.”

The birds in the tree comically flew away at your scream of agony and some people even said that they swore they saw some trees shaking out of the sheer power of the soundwaves of your scream.

#[ ♠️ ] verona's 1k soiree !#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui x y/n #kakegurui x you #ririka x reader #ririka momobami x reader #ririka x y/n #ririka momobami x y/n #ririka x you #ririka momobami x you

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aajjks · 5 months

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TPOL!JK

“OH MY GOD!!!”

“woah”

yerin is speechless at they all ride to your apartment in busan and once you made it to your front door, well, barely front door because it was hanging off the hinges. your house, your belongings, and everything had been trashed and destroyed. you immediately rush in trying to recover the photo album of you and your mother because it’s the only thing you care about. “she needs the photo album!” realizes jorja as she jumps in the pile with you help find your dear item. you’re in a panic trying to retrieve it because it’s the last physical thing you have of your mother and your father,

yerin walks around to try and find it as well, panicking with you because no one has yet to locate it and your apartment is a mess. you can’t live here, they’ve done too much damage. from the bedroom to the bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room was covered in broken glass, ripped clothes, and tarnished items.

after 20 minutes of searching, you finally find your photo album that was ripped apart. there were some pictures still in it but majority of them were either ripped up or missing. “nonononono!!!” you cry out holding the album close.

your phone then rings in your back pocket and it was jorja who answered it for you and held you close to comfort your hurt state.

“hey, jungkook. no this…this is jorja. we’re okay, we’re a little cut but y/n…that bitch ruined her home and destroyed the photo album of her parents!!”

you then take the phone from jorja to talk to jungkook yourself. you’re sniffing on the phone and listening to jungkook say he was going to kill chaeyoung with his own hands which you never want him to do. you hate when he gets his hands dirty for you especially when the two of you aren’t together anymore.

“j-jungkook, n-no. i’ll press charges, i’ll figure it out just…don’t do that. if you break up with her it’ll only get worse. she acts just fine with you so just play it off until we take her to court”

meanwhile chaeyoung has just pulled up to jungkook’s penthouse and devised a plan so clever, even jungkook will be impressed. she knows jungkook doesn’t want to “talk.” he’s going to break up with her and send her to jail but he doesn’t get to break up with her especially when he found his match.

He scoffs when you advise him to keep being with her, how can he be with her when she hurt you? She’s even more psychotic than him.

“Yn are you insane? She hurt you! AND YOUR FRIENDS TOO- you could’ve died today?!?” He’s angry, and he is frustrated. “no you know what I’ll handle this my way. And the security team must be on their way so don’t worry OK.” and it hurts him to hear you crying like that and he’s not there to comfort you.

“Princess I’m so sorry you had to deal with her.. first my crazy father and now my crazy girlfriend… why do I attract crazy people? I’m so sorry- whenever I’m in your life something really bad happens..” he sighs, rubbing his temples because he’s really stressed.

Why cannot he be with a nice person?

“Okay… now I’m going to go because she’s almost here.” He says- barely stopping his tongue from saying I love you to you.

As soon as he cuts off the call, his door buzzes. He sighs, standing up. She’s in, and the first thing he does is glare at her while he stalks towards her.

“Hmm so… why were you there? Huh?” He begins, eyes set on her like a predator, he’s feeling murderous right now… but then your words ring into his ears.

Jungkook is standing right in front of her. His eyes are cold. He is so pissed off. “ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW, OR WE ARE OVER!” Jungkook screams at her, neck vein popping out.

This behavior from her is nothing new because he’s pretty sure she’s assaulted people before. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY DON’T YOU GET IT? Her and I ARE NOT EVEN TOGETHER ANYMORE!” He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her.

“You’ve gone COMPLETELY MENTAL AND YOU HAVE EMBARRASSED ME. I KNEW YOU WEREN’T THE PERFECT ONE FOR ME. FUCK YOU.”

#ask: tpol!jungkook #WHAT PLAN? OH MY GOD WHAT IS HE GONNA DO? I’M SCARED FOR HIM.

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chrisevansluv · 1 year

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it’s because they know deep down she’s the “perfect match” for him. she is exactly what he’s been saying he wants in a woman to a T. firstly she’s so aggressively his type. brown eyes? check. brown hair? check. big boobs? check. yoga ass? check. spiritual interests? check. presents as well read and sophisticated? check. artsy? check. being non-american and therefore “exotic”? check. then on top of that you add that HE followed her first? all the action has been from HIS side? because you know she’d probably still probably be with lucas bravo right no if he hadn’t followed her on twitter back in 2020. oh baby. they’re fucking scared. they know there’s a real chance he’s going to wife her up and have her be the mother of his kids. then there’s the fact that they were so fucking sure he was gonna receive the backlash of his lifetime for the age gap situation but it backfired so bad because they can’t get on code for five seconds and the general public is suffering from age gap discourse fatigue (they went public at JUST right time i swear) and also he’s a rich white man. that letter and those flyers and how his fandom has now gained a reputation rivalling the spn and k-pop stans? oh i KNOW their egos are hurting. 💀 played themselves with that letter because all the general public that care sympathize with him and her, the age gap is barely mentioned. man is untouchable fr fr. i know megan is smirking every day lmaooo.// There are millions of girls on the street who fit Chris' physical type, brown hair, brown eyes, exotic looking, spiritual and love to do yoga, love dogs and babies etc... These are superficial checks. What this fandom does not accept is neither Alba nor age gap, her and her friends' problematic behavior, their disgusting tweets. You need to be extra careful when dating someone with more reputation than yourself because the internet is forever. If he wants, he can marry this girl today, at this hour, no one can prevent him. Those who think that this fandom is trying to prevent a possible marriage or "serious" relationship, those who talk with the taste of "He is will be marry to her, cry harder lmaooo", you are no different from those who go to extremes in this fandom. Chris nor Alba are not innocent. You have become a "side" against the crazy people in the fandom but your common sense has been lost. If the "serious" relationship continues or marriage happens, of course, there be those who will lose their minds, but the general majority will say, "Married with this girl who is friends with people with racist and problematic discourses, congratulations to him" and they will move on to other "internet boyfriend".

Totally disagree. Acting like his fandom only cares about her being racist is a big reach. A year ago, no one knew about the tweets and posts, yet everybody was hating on her and calling her all sorts of names just because the POSSIBILITY of Chris dating her was on the table. When Chris was the one who was into a girl that played teenage roles and looked like one.

His fans saw how irrational it was to be hating on her for no other reason, other than their own projections on the situation, so they dig deeper to find problematic shit from the past (because everybody has done/said problematic shit in the past, even Chris), so their hate can be a bit more justified. Plot twist: it was not, and it's being called out by people outside the fandom.

"He will marry to her, cry harder" I only said it's a possibility, just like them breaking up next month. My talk goes more to: "Cry harder, and hate on her, because your fav is still dating her". And if some people aren't able to deal with that statement, the problem is on them and not me.

You definitely are on that side of the fandom who hates the fact that Chris ever laid his eyes on her, just by the way you wrote such a long essay to justify why you hate on her. And with how you tried to "minimize" that she's his type? Yeah, there are millions of girls that look and are that way, but he had been chasing Alba for a year and that's who he's dating now. So what else there is to discuss regarding that?

Like you said, "cry harder", but keep crying somewhere else that isn't my blog.

#cevansluv #anon #alba

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

#yandere endeavor #yandere endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji todoroki x reader #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji todoroki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #yandere boku no hero academia

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is.

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely. She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while. We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong. She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements and you have to have a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice. You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..” She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone, simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “ All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to.

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg.

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut fics #bts smut #jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts fics

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Note

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x8 thoughts

I am so lucky that the creators of Ted Lasso decided to make this entire show specifically for me. #blessed

If last week felt like a bit of breathing room (albeit tense, poignant, character-progressing breathing room) with distinct narrative lines, this week’s episode was a chaotic yet tightly-written swirl of pain and hope and sadness! No neat subject headers for this one, y’all. Just my brain and heart in the inadequate form of a bulleted list. It is the medium available to me at this time.

I am going to remember the moment when Ted calls Sharon and tells her his father killed himself for the rest of my life.

(I could say a bunch of stuff about his face and what he says and how he tries to hide his tears from Beard right after and how insanely much I adore this character and ahhhhhhhh but I’m just going to leave that scene there in our collective memories.)

Jamie. JAMIE. Higgins has given some great advice about love on this show, but his musings about his up-and-down relationship with his own father were not helpful in the context of Jamie’s dad, who is an abusive piece of shit. I really adore that all of the main AFC Richmond staff members are realistically a bit hit-or-miss with their advice and life philosophies (some are mostly miss this season, of course).

And I am completely in awe of the moment when Jamie punches his father. The way he just stands there after Beard kicks his dad out of the locker room. The way you can hear a pin drop. And Roy—Roy who is learning in so many areas of his life about his influence on people, learning that the things he needs aren’t necessarily the same as the things other people need—is the one to cross the room and hug him. Hold him, really, with the tenderness Ted used when he hugged Rebecca outside the gala in 1x4. God.

I’ve thought a lot about how s1 was about giving people a soft place to land. There’s always an angel there when you need one. There’s always an opportunity to be kind. If you look for someone, you find them. If you look for the good in someone, you find the good. And as everyone works through their individual journeys in s2, that can’t always be the case anymore. But there are still so many moments of angels on this show, and it’s not about chance and serendipity and fate [not that it was about that in s1] but about the effort it takes to become someone who can be there for someone else. Or who can be there for yourself. I’m so proud of Jamie for physically fighting back against his father. I’m so proud of Roy for being the one who recognized what Jamie needed.

I have every feeling in the world about how Ted is almost totally frozen both times (s1 and s2) he witnesses Jamie’s father abusing him. In s1, he was still there for Jamie after, and I have every reason to believe he’ll be there for Jamie after this incident as well, but that frozen stance HURTS. He’s in so deep with his pain about his own father that it’s like he physically cannot snap out of it to act in the moment. It seems entirely outside of his control, and it breaks my heart, because Ted wants so badly to be a good father, a good coach, a good friend, a good partner, a good patient. He’s there for people in all kinds of ways, even in his current less-than-capable state. He takes care of Sharon post-concussion and even gets her a new bike! During the disastrous match at Wembley his coaching is ineffectual and everything is chaos but he’s the last one standing on the pitch! But this really awful thing keeps happening to Jamie and Ted is just…frozen in the face of it. Like one of those nightmares where you’re running in place.

The frozen-in-place nightmare also kind of applies to the way the total separation between Ted and Rebecca feels, too. I have never for a moment doubted the writers’ intentions in setting these characters up as soulmates on parallel journeys, and I’m actually really digging (on a story level) how disconnected they are right now. It is IMPRESSIVE that their absence in each other’s lives feels like such a glaring loss, one we cannot forget even as there are so many other things happening onscreen. It is 100% not just shipper goggles making me process information about Ted while thinking about Rebecca and information about Rebecca while thinking about Ted. I know there are a lot of really angry and frustrated people in the fandom right now (both T/R shippers and T/R antis and non-shipping fans who don’t get why s2 is different from s1) and while I understand being frustrated by choices characters make, and frustrated by the feelings the show makes us feel that we just want to feel more of or less of, I continue to agree with pretty much every narrative choice happening right now.

Agreeing with the narrative like this?! This is such a unique experience for me as a viewer—to feel like I’m on a ride that is at once absolutely wild and incredibly sensible and well-crafted, and to feel simultaneously completely invested and anticipatory and speculative but also totally willing to trust where it goes. I long for Ted and Beard to really talk. I long for Ted and Rebecca to stop missing each other. I long for Roy to have a serious conversation with Ted about what’s happening with him. I long for Keeley to find a vocation, something that drives her beyond her projects. I long for so many things! But I wouldn’t long for them if this show was less good. If the show was less good, I wouldn’t have a wish list a mile long because I wouldn’t be so attuned to the details and potential lurking in every scene. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SHOW, I CANNOT HANDLE IT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

(To that end, a great deal of the Ted Lasso tag and so many Twitter reactions reactions to the show feel super stressful right now and I am kind of just trying not to look?! I love this fandom so much because of the amazing conversations that happen and because of brilliant fic and because there are some awesome people I never would have encountered were it not for this show. That little bubble is wonderful and I’d stay in this fandom no matter what in order to keep experiencing those things. But fans’ catastrophic reactions to every little thing that happens, every little choice a character makes that isn’t the “perfect” choice? The takeaway that the writers—on this show of all shows—wake up in the morning ready for another day of torturing shippers rather than another day of writing a beautiful story they genuinely want to write? I do not enjoy those parts at all. I would like to opt out of those parts. I’m having such a magical experience watching this show and talking about this show and listening about this show and writing about this show with a variety of people who feel all kinds of ways. I truly wish I could somehow transfer the energy of this experience onto all the people who are hating it right now. I don’t mind at all that people are having vastly different reactions to this show and are sharing their honest feelings, including the really angry ones (I can appreciate something and disagree with it!), and I get that sometimes the language of fannish reactions is intentionally, ironically hyperbolic. But there feels like this very serious trend of people legitimately thinking writers on this show are targeting shippers and have lost respect for their characters, and I just feel like an alien from another planet when I see that stuff. I guess I just feel like people make art because they want their art to be visible to other people and to themselves, but that doesn’t typically involve specifically catering to or torturing a subset of that audience?)

I am more fascinated by Sharon Fieldstone than ever before. I have been running through every single action with her and Ted so many times. The confirmation that she’s living in club-provided housing (that could not look more different from Ted’s club-provided flat). Ted clearly noticing the many bottles. Sharon’s face while she tries to casually recycle them. (Sharon could legitimately have a more problematic relationship with alcohol than Ted does, and I find that extremely interesting and am very curious to find out what happens there.) Sharon leaving him voice notes while she’s concussed, probably because she’d been thinking about him shortly before the accident. The way Ted calls her and does all the funny voices and it’s not frustrating like all the times he uses his silliness and allusions to deflect during their prior conversations because this time, those behaviors are just a part of him showing care for another person. The way they stretch each other, and Ted is still wrong about the things he’s been wrong about, but they both grow all the same.

While it is pretty much impossible for me to imagine that this show would include an actual romantic relationship between Ted and Sharon (it would be beyond unethical even if they could write it well, and Sharon in particular is so professional and committed to her work, and it would erase so much of the powerful message about the importance of seeking therapy from a professional who is not your friend or partner, and I would totally hate it), watching this episode was the first moment I had this queasy little feeling that it’s possible that Ted could end up developing really complicated feelings about Sharon since, at this point, he’s been honest with her about things he’s hardly spoken about before and you can really form an attachment to people you feel safe with in a new way. (I mean, I’m sure Michelle knows what happened with Ted’s father, but I’m not even certain if Beard does.) He’s so broken right now, and Sharon is such a great person and so different from anyone else in his life (even though Rebecca is also different, and Beard is also different, and Roy is also different, and so on), that I could see things getting really fuzzy for him. I continue to have faith in the way the storylines on this show are handled. I’m just. Putting this here.

(In saying that, though, I also wanna make it really clear that I don’t just automatically assume anytime a new female character is introduced that they’re going to end up becoming a romantic complication. Like, Phoebe is allowed to have a teacher who is an attractive woman and AFC Richmond is allowed to have a sports psychologist who is an attractive woman and Keeley is allowed to talk to Jamie Tartt without it threatening what she has with Roy and all these people can exist as human beings without the introduction of romantic drama.)

Isaac gives every player one haircut per season, OH MY GOD. The JOY during the haircut scene. YES.

KEELEY AND REBECCA. Their text thread. The affirming video call right before Rebecca goes into the restaurant. The way Keeley sits all snuggled up against Rebecca in her office.

I was pretty thoroughly spoiled for the Sam and Rebecca plot through 2x8, and I was bracing for something far more problematic and tortured than what happens in this episode. The words I would use to describe their scenes: awkward, cute, cringy, and understandable. There are a million reasons why this relationship isn’t sustainable, but I felt completely understanding of both their choices here. This show has a lot of thesis statements, but I keep going back to the idea from 2x1 that there are people who enter your life to help you get to the next point, and I think it’s entirely possible that Sam and Rebecca will mutually be that for each other.

I find comparisons between Rupert and Rebecca super upsetting. There are absolutely meaningful things to say about the irony of ending up in a situation with an uncomfortable resemblance to certain taboo elements of an ex’s situation. But that ex is abusive and manipulative and cruel and Rebecca has exhibited NONE of those behaviors, and it makes me really sad to think that people feel that the writers on this show have betrayed Rebecca in giving her this storyline.

As always, I reserve the right to keep blathering about this show. I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, but my head is also so full of 2x8 thoughts that I couldn’t keep them in even if the circumstances for writing this were not ideal. I kind of hate that I’ve included frustrated fandom thoughts within the analysis of what I felt was an absolutely gorgeous, complicated, heartbreaking, near-perfect episode of television, but if ya can’t be a little dramatic on your own tumblr while you’re feeling raw and under the weather, where can ya?

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #ted lasso 2x8 #a lesbian watches ted lasso #cw: suicide mention #cw: alcohol abuse mention

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

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Writing’s On The Wall (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, again! We’ve finally reached... Civil War! Loosely inspired by Sam Smith’s “Writing’s On The Wall”. Some of the actual dialogue from the film is used here with some adjustments. Let me know what you think.

Summary: How the reader and Wanda are involved in the events of Civil War. Will they be on the same side? Or will they have to fight each other?

“I want to feel love, run through my blood, tell me is this where I give it all up? For you I have to risk it all, 'cause the writing's on the wall”

Half a year had passed since you left the comfort of the Avengers tower and the path to healing had never felt more manageable. You should have known that wouldn’t last. Peace never seemed to last around you.

You didn’t know what to expect when Fury called you out of the blue and told you to turn on the news, but it was certainly not what you saw. A quiet curse escaped your lips as you watched the news of what happened in Lagos play out before you.

For at least an hour you listened to them completely annihilate Wanda’s character and talk about her like she was a monster who couldn’t be controlled. A threat. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. She made a mistake – she was trying to help. You could only imagine how she was feeling.

The news continued to pile on the next couple of days which is when you caught wind of the Sokovian accords. The information being relayed to you in the form of a demand from one Tony Stark who said you needed to sign since you were technically still an Avenger. You told him you would need time to think about it because the fact of the matter was, you didn’t agree with it. Not that you actually told him the second part.

Shortly after your phone call with Stark, Steve also reached out. Though he was reluctant to have to ask you for help when he knew what he would be dragging you back into. You agreed within seconds. Not only was it what was right, but Steve was your first lifeline. You’d always offer him help. You’d always stand by him. You had made a promise. That’s just who you were.

Due to some loose ends, you were the last to arrive at the parking garage Steve had designated as the meeting location.

The sight of Wanda before you after all this time shocked you and rendered you immobile for a moment.

As if she could sense your presence, she looked over and made eye contact with you, her eyes widening ever so slightly. You shook your head, you had healed – moved on. She wasn’t your focus anymore. The look in her eyes stuck with you though, it was something you had never seen before. You could feel her eyes follow you. Even after all this time, it slightly hurt you still.

Wanda, on the other hand, felt breathless at the sight of you. The one she thought she’d never get to see again. She could feel her heart beating so hard in her chest she was sure everyone in the area could hear it. It took everything in her not to run over to you, take you in her arms and never let go. Even after all this time, she missed you still.

“Cap, what have you gotten yourself into now?” you questioned playfully, smiling brightly when Steve turned to look at you.

Despite the circumstance, Steve was genuinely glad to see you, to physically see how much better you looked after your time away rather than just hear it in a phone call. “Y/n. I hate how this is how we’re being reunited but it’s good to see you.” He pulled you into a tight embrace which you gladly returned.

For the first time in her life, Wanda envied Steve Rogers.

When he released you, Steve turned and addressed everyone else. “Alright everyone, go and get ready. Time is of the essence… And I can’t imagine they’re going to let us go easily.”

Before you could walk away, Steve threw a duffle bag at you with a wink before he walked off to put on his suit. You looked into the bag and noticed a sleek black outfit with blue and white accents. New gear, you thought to yourself, nice.

“Hi, Y/n.” you heard an all too familiar voice say softly from behind you.

With only slight hesitation, you turned. “Hello, Wanda.” You greeted neutrally, proud of yourself for not feeling as broken as you once did at the mere sight of her.

Wanda smiled slightly at you, her nerves at an all-time high from being this close to you once again. “I’m surprised to see you here. You look… good.” She said shyly.

An amused smile spread over your lips. “Thanks. I thought I told you I’d always be on your side.” You said with a wink. The referenced conversation felt as though it had happened in another life.

A pink hue covered her cheeks which you took note of curiously. “I’m actually glad you are.” She admitted honestly. “I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months and it’s made me realize that I-“

“I’m genuinely sorry to do this, ladies, but we’ve really got to go.” Steve interrupted. Looking apologetically at Wanda who appeared disheartened.

You waved your hand dismissively. Allowing yourself to get invested in even just a conversation with Wanda wasn’t something you’d allow yourself. “Not an issue at all, Cap.” You replied lightly, pretending you didn’t see the way Wanda’s looked down dejectedly. In that moment you wished you didn’t know her so well.

Once you were all gathered, Steve separated you all into teams that would be spread throughout the airport, Clint and Wanda would be together, Sam would stay with Bucky and you would be with Steve. Scott would be waiting in hiding for when the perfect opportunity presented itself. Without knowing all the variables, it was difficult to form a perfect plan, but you all worked with what you had. Once that was settled, it was time to get into position.

“Y/n.” Wanda took hold of your hand as you were turning to leave. “Do you think we could finish that conversation later, whenever that may be?” She asked hopefully. You took note of how she was holding her breath.

“Sure, Wanda.” You eventually replied, watching the way she breathed out graciously. “I’ve got to get into position now though, Steve is already out there.”

Wanda lightly squeezed the hand that you hadn’t realized she was still holding. Awkwardly, you pulled it away. A short look of disappointed flashed across her features. “Be careful out there, okay?”

“You too.” You replied neutrally, this conversation was veering into dangerous territory. With one final nod you took off in a sprint to get into position, not seeing the way Wanda stayed behind for a moment.

Even just the minor action made her aware of the fact that you’d changed, you used to always look back. She looked at your retreating figure with worried eyes until it disappeared from sight.

Almost as soon as you got into position, you could hear Sam begin calling you over the coms. “Y/n, go out to Steve, give them some numbers. Remember your points and the mission.”

“Haven’t been out of the game that long, Wilson.” You replied with an eye roll before heading out to where Steve was trapped.

The end of Tony’s speech caught your attention. “… in Clint, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn’t even want to leave, a safe place-“ His words halted as you came to a stop by Steve’s side.

For a moment Tony just looked between you and Steve, obviously surprised to see you there. “And you brought the kid back into the chaos for this? To make her a criminal? Real nice, Rogers.” Tony quipped angrily.

Steve opened his mouth to respond when you beat him to it. “I can speak for myself, thanks. Hi Tony, good to see you again.” You matched his sarcasm with a mocking wave of your fingers. “If it means I can fight for what’s right then I’ll gladly join the fray again.”

“You heard her.” Steve replied with a small chuckle.

Wanda couldn’t help but watch you with a small smile of admiration from her position. She truly missed being able to see this version of you. Always determined to do what was right. Clint shook his head in amusement at her but didn’t say anything.

From your place you could see Tony’s frustration grow as he addressed Steve again. “I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.” Steve replied coolly.

Tony looked away before looking back at Steve, his anger more present. “Alright, we’re done. You’re going to turn Barnes over and you’re going to come with us. Now. Because it’s us.” He paused slightly. “C’mon…” he added, and you almost felt bad for Tony.

Over your coms you could hear Sam let you both know that he had found the quinjet. That’s when chaos ensued. Your focus was keeping Rhodey back from Steve when you saw Tony begin shooting at Wanda and Clint, with a flick of your wrist Rhodey sunk into the floor, completely encased in the concrete that was once flat underneath his feet.

The sound of his suit slowly chipping away at the defense let you know that it wasn’t too damaging as you began running towards Tony, using your powers to propel you forward. That was until a truck got thrown right in your path and exploded mere inches from you. You ducked and rolled, jumping back up. “C’mon.” you mumbled to yourself. Noticing the red wisps that surrounded you during the explosion.

You made eye contact with Wanda, who’s eyes were worried as she lowered her hands, the red wisps that were lingering around you fading. You nodded in thanks, Wanda just quirked her lips up and nodded back.

“Sorry!” Scott said sheepishly to you over coms.

You refocused and noticed the path to the quinjet clear for you all, each of you sprinting in its direction.

The quinjet was quickly approaching as each of you sped up even more until a beam of light cut into the ground before you, effectively stopping you all in your tracks.

“For the collective good, you must surrender now.” Vision said, his eyes on Wanda whose expression never changed. Each member of Tony’s team formed a defensive line in front of the jet.

Both sides were in a stand-off, and it was obvious neither was willing to back down. “What do we do, Cap?” you questioned.

“We fight.” Steve said without a moment of hesitation, determination clear in his eyes as he began running forward. Everyone else followed suit, both teams clashing in the middle.

The scene was so frenzied, and your focus was on fighting Tony with your powers that it wasn’t until Sam spoke over coms that you focused in again. You easily agreed with the plan that not all of you could make it out. It had to be Steve and Bucky.

The sound of Wanda’s scream distracted you, thankfully Scott had also distracted Tony just in time.

“Wanda!” You shouted on reflex already beginning to run over when you saw her fall to the floor, clutching her head. You were able to catch the building that was falling on Steve and Bucky with your powers for a moment before allowing it to crash down behind them.

When you turned your attention back to Wanda, you noticed Vision come to a stop beside her and take her in his arms. The conversation between them looked intimate. She looked up from her place in his arms for a moment and met your eyes. Her eyes looked as though they were trying to convey something to you when they had suddenly gone wide as you felt a strong force make contact with your head then everything went black.

When you finally came to your head felt groggy and achy, the way it did when Hydra used to run experiments on you. You tried to lift a hand to rub at your head when you noticed resistance and something cool around your neck. Out of confusion, your eyes shot open only to feel anxiety seep into your bones when you took note of the straight jacket that you were confined in and the collar locked uncomfortably around your neck.

“Hello?” you called, hating the way fear crept into your voice.

“Y/n. You’re awake.” You heard Wanda respond, relief obvious in her voice. You looked around for a moment trying to locate her voice when you finally noticed her across a brightly lit circular sort of area, in her own straight jacket and collar. Her eyes that were so bright before the battle now dull.

Fruitlessly you tried to use your powers to manipulate the walls of the cell to no avail. “Where are we?”

“They call it the raft.” You heard Clint’s bitter voice float through the walls. “We’re criminals now.”

The anxiety you felt began to overwhelm you as flashes of being tied up in a similar manner and watching someone you loved be harmed went through your mind. “How long have we been here?”

“Three days,” Wanda began hesitantly almost as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell you more.

Clint interrupted her. “They’ve been knocking you out each time you come to, even for a second. First, they doped you up. The last time they just hit you. They’re not big fans of Steve over here, you’re the closest they could get to him.” Anger was clear in his words.

You thought you heard him mumble something about putting Wanda directly across from you, so she’d be forced to watch.

Wanda looked resigned with purple bruising under her eyes. You were hesitant to ask. “What happened to you?” she shook her head.

Thankfully Sam answered for her. “They’re not big fans of her either. The one good thing Tony did was stop what they were doing to both of you.”

Before you could ask anything else, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, all of your attention it seemed. A moment later, Steve walked in, a relieved smile on his face as he took in each of you.

“About time.” Sam said gruffly.

Without hesitation Steve began taking you each out of your cell and loaded onto the jet he had waiting.

You were watching the prison shrink in the distance from the safety of the quinjet when you felt someone take a seat next to you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Do you think we can have that talk now?”

Part 8! Don’t worry there’s more to come, I’m just releasing one title ahead at a time. This part was semi-difficult to write because I didn’t want to add too much of the fight scene because then it would be extremely long and this was more of a set-up chapter for Wanda and the readers story. To establish where they are after separating and bring them back into each others lives. Anyway, as always, hope you all enjoyed! Comments and thoughts always welcome. :) (bonus points if you can tell me what part was referenced in this chapter ;)

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Persephone’s Symphony | Prologue | Hades

Hey lovelies— this will either be a long fic or a short series, depending on how it best plays out. I decided to upload a sneak peak— let me know what y’all think and do enjoy!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 2.5k (and counting)

Master List

“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies— a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies.

Right?

Wrong.

“You’re to make sure she is secured at all times during the next three days— do not leave Miss Y/l/n’s side under any circumstances. Understood?”

Bucky blinks twice, his brows creasing as he stares down his commander, a stubby, burly man with beady eyes. It’s a trial run— he can’t say no. He wants to, he just can’t afford to. Not if he wants a job. Still, he sees no reason for this to be on him. He’s a soldier— a good one. A dangerous one. Watching over little girls isn’t in his job description. He’s a fighter— a monster.

“I need an affirmative, Barnes.”

He bites back a scowl. He’s not trying to get demoted, he knows he’s on thin ice. But, like, isn’t there anyone else? Hell— Wilson is right next to him! Surely he’s better. He’s charming, at least. A flirt. He would be perfect! Wilson would keep her safe. So would he— maybe. Definitely from the threat. From himself, though— well, three days is a long time to avoid sleeping. Even for him.

“Barnes!”

Damnit.

“Understood, sir.”

Wilson’s amused chuckles sound from beside him, his hand landing like a ton of bricks on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky contemplates the repercussions of punching the smug bastard in the middle of a briefing. It can’t be more than a pay dock. He isn’t making that much anyway, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. It would be worth it to wipe that grin off his face. But, no, he can’t. He’ll have to do it later.

“Someone’s on babysitting duty.” Wilson snickers, pressing his fist to his mouth to hide his goading from the commander. “Remember Barnes; no candy after seven.”

“Shut up, Wilson.” He grunts back, just barely stopping his metal arm from flying out and smacking him— from squashing him like the bug he is.

“Think she has a bedtime?”

“Think you could shut up?”

Wilson flexes his fingers, holding them up slightly. Just enough as to not get caught ignoring the briefing but also enough to make sure Bucky notices. “Woah—” he says under his breath, that stupid smirk still heavy in his tone— “someone’s touchy today.”

“It’s a bad decision and you know it.” He says it simply— gruffly— it is the truth after all. He’s dangerous.

Wilson’s face softens, the glee filtering from his tone. “You’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to have another conversation about this. You’re a good person. You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your fault. It might not be his fault but he still did it. He still feels it. That makes him bad— if not morally than at least physically. He’s a liability.

“Y/n Y/l/n—” Bucky focuses back on the commander; he may as well learn what he needs to do— “the twenty-five year old heir to the biggest communications technology manufacturing companies in the world. They do dealings with a range of chief institutions including our own White House—”

If Bucky’s teeth weren’t pressed together hard enough to make him wonder if they’re going to disintegrate, then his jaw would be on the floor right now. She’s the what? Did he just say twenty-five? He can’t even remember what he was doing at twenty-five— whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t that. Granted, he probably doesn’t really want to remember what he was doing. Soldier things. Dangerous things. He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of air.

“Her immediate family have all turned up dead within the last six months—”

Bucky flinches— this time his jaw does drop.

“Holy shit.” Wilson mutters from next to him— Bucky can only nod. No more jokes about babysitting then.

Some pictures appear on the screen behind the commander, each one more gruesome than the last. It is nothing overtly sinister— nothing he hasn’t seen before— nothing worse than anything he’s seen before. Or worse than what he, himself, has done. He shivers, staring at the photos. Two men and a woman, each with a scarlet circle blown through their foreheads. What the fuck.

“Other executives have been found dead as well—” more pictures, more bullet holes— “She is the last one. We don’t know who or why— our mission is to find out, execute, and above all keep Miss Y/l/n alive—”

The pictures change, finally showing the woman who is to be in the soldier’s care, and his heart stops. Not for any normal reason, though— not because of how obscenely beautiful she is or because of the way her eyes pierce through the junky projector as though she were actually in the room with him. Not because of how soft she looks or how he can see the pink sheen of her lip gloss or the way those glossy lips are curved into an open mouth smile— like the picture had been taken mid laugh. No. His heart stops because of how god damn fragile she looks.

In the picture she seems to be at a University with some friends of hers. They’re backed against a brick facade, shoulder to shoulder like some sort of preppy mugshot. It’s probably supposed to be comical— Wilson lets out a hmph next to him, clearly seeing it as well— but Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not given the circumstances. Regardless though the picture gives him the information he needs to know; that she is a head shorter than the males in the picture. That seems normal— a head isn’t much in the scheme of things. The size difference is nothing.

Nothing unless, of course, you’re a giant super soldier whose genetically modified to be larger, stronger, and faster than the average man. Deadlier than the average man. He won’t be just a head taller than her— he’ll be at least two. Maybe more. And that’s just the height— he doesn’t even want to think about the rest. He is going to be stuck for three days, in what will most likely be a cramped safe house, with a girl who he could potentially break by bumping into her too hard. He can see it now: he takes the corner too fast and the next thing he knows she’s sprawled at his feet, her limbs bent at grotesque angles and her glossy lips flattened. All because he didn’t think to check.

This is going to be a long three days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As it turns out, there are no safe houses— not legitimate ones at least. What there is, however, is the Wilson’s old family home in Delacroix, Louisiana— a semi falling apart, two-story build with robin's egg blue, fading paint. It is nestled deep into the bayou, hidden meticulously between towering trees. It is miles from any main roads and on the bank of a mostly dead river. Foot traffic is scarce and boats rarely pass on sunny days, let alone during the rainy season— the season it just so happens to be. Perfect.

Well, the location is perfect. The rest is a god damn shit show.

“You ready?” Sam doesn’t look at him— he knows better than that, opting instead to continue staring out at the bayou from behind the wheel.

Bucky, hunched over in the passenger seat, eyes also locked on the blue home, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Sam sighs and Bucky tries not to tense at the sound. Please, not another lecture— not right now. He tries to ignore the man, gaze pouring over what he assumes is supposed to be a charming porch. Under a dim but sturdy awning there waits a white swing with a long bench seat and some floral pillows. Across from it are two rocking chairs swaying softly in the Louisiana breeze. One has a matching blanket draped over the back. It is supposed to look cozy— he knows it’s supposed to and he is sure to everyone but him that it is cozy. To him, though, it looks like everything he doesn’t have. Like warmth and sunny days and peace. Things he wants and things that make his skin crawl because of how foreign they are to him.

“You’re not going to hurt her.” Sam taps his hand on the wheel, sounding out a pattern that plays more like bullets ricocheting through the cab of the truck than whatever melody it actually is.

Bucky grinds his teeth together. Now he’s looking at the window beside the porch. Is it a kitchen? A mudroom? A den? He isn’t sure, there’s a white curtain pulled across the frame, blocking his vision from whatever waits for him on the inside. Blocking his vision from her. For a moment he thinks he sees the curtain move— a shadow of a hand passing along the edge. He turns away— he doesn’t want to scare her if she’s trying to size him up before they meet. It’s the least he can do. God only knows how terrified she already is.

His stare lands on Sam— an invitation for the soldier to finally look away from the bayou. “But I could, right? That’s what matters here— I could hurt her.”

“No, Buck, you couldn’t— you wouldn’t. You aren’t evil or whatever it is you think you are.” Sam raises a brow and Bucky scowls— it always feels like he’s in his head.

Of course he would never tell Sam Wilson that— like a dog left to fend for himself, he would rather fight.

“Don’t pretend like you have any idea what I think.” He can’t find it in himself to feel guilty for snapping— isn’t that what wild animals do?

Ever the patient animal rescuer, Sam rolls his eyes at the bite. “You’re a good man, Barnes.”

Bucky stares back for a minute, not sure how to even broach an answer, before breaking, snapping his gaze back to the inviting home— his kennel for the next three days. He clenches his jaw, trying not to slam his head against the dashboard for being an idiot. Even Bucky understands that it’s bad when he breaks the stare first— he’s been told before that he has a staring problem. He just doesn’t want to look Wilson in his eyes and explain to him exactly why he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to let him think what he wants.

“Whatever.”

Maybe he wants just one person to truly believe that he isn’t the bad guy— even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I thought old people were supposed to be mature.”

Bucky flashes him a forced grin, one that tastes like the three hours of sleep he got last night and the five hours of self-loathing, shoving open his door and following it with his foot. “That’s me— the mature one.”

Sam barks out a laugh; either Bucky’s grimace— grin— worked or Sam is choosing to ignore it. “You’re old, not mature— there’s a difference, pal.”

“Hmph.” Bucky jumps out of the truck, yanking the duffle bag over his shoulder as his boots sink into the spongy grass.

His skin dampens immediately, a combination of the marshy climate and the grey clouds hanging above his head. A few droplets fall against his face and he slings a hand over his brows, turning towards his fate for the next three days. Without the barrier of the truck between him and the house, he almost feels like a normal man again. The weak, destructible kind. Theoretically, if the house were to fall on top of him right now he would survive. He would be pinned under the rubble, yes, but alive. It just doesn’t feel like it— it feels like he would be crushed. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end— his hackles rising as he tries not to bare his teeth— or fangs— at this new kind of threat. If only people could see him now; The White Wolf afraid of a charming, bayou home.

What a joke.

He shakes his head, pushing the passenger door shut with a sharp clang. Of course he isn’t afraid of a house— then he really would be an idiot. No, he is afraid of something else entirely— something much more sinister. Bucky is afraid of suburbia; of normalcy. What, with a metal arm and a brain hardwired to kill— it only makes sense he would also be programmed to steer clear of anything half-way decent. Especially pretty, fragile girls with glossy lips. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes closed, his vibranium fingers clenching around the strap of his bag. What is he even doing here?

A familiar, mechanical buzz fills the air and he cracks an eye back open in time to see Wilson leaning his head out of the passenger window. “Look, man— it’s three days. The fridge is full, the wifi is on, and it’ll rain so much she’ll probably nap the entire time. Pretend you’re at home doing whatever it is you would normally do. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods, sticking to his guns and letting the soldier believe what he wants. He tells himself again that it is because it is easier that way. “I gotta go, Wilson.”

With that he pushes his way to the door. His feet sink further into the grass with every step, curling around his ankles as though trying to warn him against entering the house— or trying to save the poor girl inside. He can’t decide. Warning or trap. Both. A warning for her— the princess; the little girl in the forest— and a trap for him— the rabid wolf. He steps onto the porch, his boots echoing off the concrete. To him it’s booming. He doesn’t want to think about what it must sound like to her, especially with everything the commander said she’s been through. A giant coming to kill her is his guess. Movement to the left catches his eye, the curtains shifting again, and his neck flushes.

“Hey Buck?”

He sighs— again— and turns over his shoulder for what he hopes is the last time— he just wants to get this over with. “What, Wilson?”

He knows before the man speaks that the cheshire grin on his face can mean nothing good— still he waits for the answer.

“Remember to tiptoe.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

spank bank HCs /// Oikawa, Atsumu, and Kuroo x s/o (18+)

A/N: Been thinking about how the hq boys practice self-love 😏 Kind of a palate cleanser, I want to do this for more characters haha

Tags/warnings: pornography, masturbation, sex, edging, lots of mentions of different porn categories, Kuroo is a little shit, all characters are 18 or older

Oikawa Tōru

Oikawa has a weird relationship with conventional porn. On one hand, he’s a young healthy guy with an equally healthy sex drive, and what can he say, he likes watching girls get pounded

On the other hand, the kind of porn you find on sites like PH is always ugly men fucking beautiful women, and as a pretty boy Oikawa finds it hard to identify with. Like where is the justice??? How is it supposed to be believable that a gorgeous woman in her twenties is really moaning that hard for an aging male pornstar with more hair on his chest than on his head?

So he opts for the perfect alternative: camgirls!

He has three or four different channels that he bounces between. His favorites are the ones that are well-lit, nicely produced, high quality film and lots of eye contact. He never interacts or chats with them though, he’s kind of a lurker

Very very into solo acts and toys. You know those sites that let you control the speed of a girl’s vibrator by donating certain amounts of money? Oikawa lives for those. All his pocket change goes toward camgirls, it’s a real problem

Once the two of you start dating, Oikawa’s sexual needs are mostly sated because…well, he’s got you, and you’re a hundred times hotter than any random girl on the internet. But once in a while it’ll still happen that your schedules don’t line up or you’re on your period or it just doesn’t work out, and he’ll get pent up again

When that happens, he’ll return to his old stand-by channels. It’ll be kinda nostalgic getting off to girls fucking themselves with glass dildos or grinding on vibrators in front of the webcam

But the problem, the problem is that he can’t get you out of his head, and when he’s looking at “jasm1neXXX” doing her cute little striptease, he keeps feeling like he’s betraying you :(

So Oikawa bids a regretful goodbye to his old favorite camgirls, and begins the search for one who looks like you. The resemblance doesn’t have to be perfect, it can be something small—hair that matches your color, a moan that falls into a huff of breath like you do—just enough that he can imagine that she’s you

Definitely never tells you that he gets off to porn. Feels guilty about it even if you wouldn’t care ➳

Miya Atsumu

Kinda the opposite of Oikawa when it comes to porn. His preferences are extremely fuckboyish

Into a little bit of everything. Lesbian, gangbang, bondage, creampie, step-sibling, whatever. You name it, he’s seen it, and he’s probably jacked off to it. The only thing he’s resolutely not into is amateur stuff. Atsumu doesn’t fuck with that low-budget bullshit

Definitely not here for the storyline though—he’ll skip ahead in the video past the setup (seriously, who gives a fuck about why the babysitter decided to spread her legs for the the pizza delivery guy) so he can get to the good part

Into edging. To spice things up a bit if he’s got at least an hour of free time he’ll go through a bunch of different videos, jerking himself off slowly while he watches a pretty girl get wrecked, up until he feels his stomach drop and he’s riiiiight about to cum when he’ll stop. Wait. Let himself fall down a little bit, hold back, drop away from the edge. And start another video just so he can do it all over again

Atsumu doesn’t really know…why he likes edging. It’s very frustrating. It makes him antsy and horny and tense, so he’s not sure why he does it. Once when he was doing it, he got interrupted and couldn’t finish until ages later and it was probably the most unpleasant thing he’s ever felt that wasn’t physical pain. He was seriously this fucking close 👌 to smacking the shit out of the person who interrupted him (it was Osamu complaining that he was sick of getting sexiled for over an hour)

It just…feels good, okay? It feels real good to finally get to cum after he’s been edging. Jerking off every other day can get old, so a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do

Favorite category is probably public sex! The possibility of other people overseeing is so fucking hot

Overall, Atsumu has a pretty high sex drive and feels zero guilt about watching porn. Even if you guys are dating, he has needs and you’re not always around to help with them, so that’s where PH and XV come in

Absolutely not shy about it with you. Legit if he’s watching something he wants to try that he just saw in a porno, he will not hesitate to text you the link and be like “hey watch this n tell me what ya think”

Even if you’re not the type to be appreciative of his porn recommendations, he will still def take notes from what he watches and apply them irl. Atsumu is plenty aware that porn is unrealistic, but he’s more than capable of sifting out the good from the bad, and it helps him be…let’s say creative in bed

Want to know where he learned that new move or that extremely bendy position? You don’t have to wonder. It’s porn. He learned it from porn ◎

Kuroo Tetsurō

Kuroo tends to get in a bit of a dilemma because he likes sex and his sex drive is through the roof, but he Does Not. Like. Masturbating.

He much, much prefers to have sex with a partner—to be fair, who doesn’t?—but Kuroo will take it to an extreme. If he’s not able to see you, he’ll go weeks without touching his dick for any reason that isn’t pissing or washing

Literally...a couple months after you started dating, his family made him come on a three-week vacation to Hawaii and when he came back he complained that it was the worst three weeks of his life

“You were in a tropical paradise getting a tan and you’re acting like it was a war zone. Stop whining.” “But baby, you weren’t there! I was so horny, you have no idea, I thought I was going to die, I thought my dick was going to fall off—“

It gets annoying.

When he gets his hands on you after a decent period apart, he’ll be like “I saved myself up for you baby <3” and you’re like “um, ew, why are you so gross”

If he doesn’t wear a condom with you, be prepared for the fact that he cums a lot. A lot. You’ll be in the shower afterward cleaning up and it’s like, there’s more? There’s still fucking more???

You ask Kuroo once why he doesn’t like jacking off, kind of awkwardly, after a four-round fuckfest that left you too shaky to even hold your hips off the bed, and he pauses for a second to think about it before answering

“Well…imagine you have a choice between two meals. One of them is a gourmet steak from a five-star restaurant, and the other one is…hm, a McDonald’s hamburger. You can have the burger whenever you want it, but the steak is only available once in a while because it’s rare and you have to appreciate it when you have it. Which would you choose?”

Okay, fine. That’s kind of cute

It’s less cute when you guys are apart and Kuroo gets really desperate, desperate enough that you get 6 texts in a row from him at 1 in the morning implying that he’s in some kind of dire emergency

“babe”

“BABE”

“911”

“🆘❌⚠️🆘”

“please I need ur help it’s important”

“call me asap”

You call him all frantic, asking him if he needs you to call the cops or something. Is he in trouble? Hurt? Is there a home invader threatening his life?

Nope, he’s totally fine, he’s just horny and wants to have phone sex. That son of a bitch

If you tell him off badly enough, Kuroo will relent and make do without you. He will, however, request nudes to help him through this difficult time

Send thoughts and prayers instead ✷

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

Text

Angel || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No. Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: Lots of angst in the beginning, mentions of self-harm/self-destructive behavior, mentions of blood, quite a few mentions of the devil, ptsd, just a lot of dark themes ig (let me know if i need to add another warning) Summary: You’ve always been an angel in Draco’s eyes and now, years after the war, he’s reminded why once again.

WORDS: 3440

I’ve been wanting to write about the ‘devil on the shoulder’ trope for a while and I felt like @anchoeritic‘s 3K WRITING CHALLENGE was the perfect opportunity though i think i lost the plot a bit at some point and this probably isn’t what you had in mind.

i had to do so much research for this, probably the most research i’ve ever done for a fic. It’s a lot heavier than I’d intended for it to be (i almost cried at certain points) but I still really love it.

anyway this fic is inspired by ‘Angel’ by FINNEAS (which is a great song that I recommend listening to) and i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~~~

Anger.

So much anger that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Red, hot, fury just begging to be unleashed.

He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. When he opens them again his fist collides with the wall. “Fuck!”

The miniature Mephistopheles that’s made home on his shoulder tells him to keep going, that this is the only rational response. Draco heeds the advice until his knuckles are bleeding and there’s a dent in the wall.

He lets out a frustrated sigh as he thinks about you returning in a few hours, then he punches the spot one last time out of frustration. Draco’s own love for destruction lies parallel to the myths surrounding Beelzebub, his own virtues bringing him to peril instead of an unseen force of evil. But it’s much easier to believe that the voice always telling him to do wrong, is not his own.

Maybe this is who he is, a fucked up kid with anger issues. Maybe this is all he’ll ever be, knuckles spotted in crimson and harmful thoughts being shoved down as to not raise alarm.

He feels violated by the mark on his arm. Sobs stacking up in his lungs at the very thought, but all he can express is anger- all he can understand is the resent that crawls beneath his skin and settles into his bones like calcium.

Was it his choice? No. Did it matter? No. Choice means nothing in a world run by circumstance. Intention holds no value when there’s no action to follow through. In another world, a better world perhaps, he would’ve had the right to choose and he hopes that he would’ve chosen the right side- the good side.

Forgiveness, they say, is often practiced by the strong willed. He’d tried to forgive, he really had, but Iblis had told him that it didn’t matter who he forgave because they’d still done this to him anyway- they’d still sold his soul to the Devil.

“Draco, when will you forgive me?” She pleads and he shrugs with a thin smile.

“I don’t know mother. I don’t know.”

“It’s been years.” He turns a steal glaze toward her.

“And yet I still can’t get the mark off.”

“What am I meant to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late to do the right thing.”

“What would the right thing have been back then? Huh?”

“The right thing to do would’ve been to protect me.”

“I did protect you. I took the Vow for you!” She yells as she stands out of her chair and points an accusatory finger toward him. He’s seen this scene so many times before that it’s permanently imprinted in his mind, but this time he’s not a scared teenager being scolded by his mother.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” He stands as well, “I just asked you to save me. Why didn’t you save me?”

“What?” She’s taken aback,

“Summer before fifth. You told me that you’d had enough of him, you told me that we were going to leave and run away so that you could save me from him, from all of them.”

“So now you hate me because I couldn’t leave your bigoted father?”

“No, mother. I hate myself because you couldn’t leave my bigoted father.” He tucks his chair back into the table and pulls out his wand, “Thank you for dinner mother, it was lovely.”

Then he’s gone, and he doesn’t come back.

Draco had shut himself out from the world, hoping that his loathing would dissipate with time but it hadn’t. He still wakes up every morning with that tiny voice reminding him that he’s worthless, and he still believes it.

Why had he done it? Why had he allowed them to put the mark on his arm in the first place? Why had he put his own morals, his own principles, on the line to save a family who might not have done the same for him? Why had he allowed himself to succumb to the many ministrations of Diabolous, which dragged him further and further down the dark side?

Weakness. That’s the only answer he can conceive. Or maybe that’s the sound of Lucifer on his shoulder, consistently reminding him that he’s no match for the evil that resides deep within his soul. He can’t fight it, it’s who he is. He’s weak and he’s unholy. Bathed so often in sin that it’s sunk into his DNA. Does that even make sense?

Draco shakes his head and runs his hands down his face in an attempt to ground himself. But it doesn’t work, all he can see is red and all he can hear is his own conscience belittling him for continuously making the wrong choices. Why does he always make the wrong choices?

His throat so dry it feels as though he’s swallowed sand. His palms sweaty like he’s dipped them in oil. He paces around the room in a desperate effort to remember where you’d placed the box last time this happened. He can feel himself disconnecting from the world, feel himself sinking further and further into the dredges of his mind that torment him most.

That part of his brain that holds the memories, the shame, the anguish, is his biggest obstacle in recovery. It’s always on good days, days when… He blinks when he realizes that no fond memories come to mind. Does he even have good days? Or does this always happen, is this what’s become normal for him?

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and steps back in shock, completely forgetting about his mission to find the box. The man in front of him looks clean, taken care of. When had he become this man and stopped being the terrified teenager that never ate and wore bags beneath his eyelids like name tags.

There is muscle on his arms, taut beneath the dress shirt that he must’ve put on that morning before going to classes… or work? When had he earned the right to stop looking the way he felt? Which of his actions had merited his beauty returning, when the dark mark still lays clear beneath the dress shirt that he’s got on? There are hickeys along his chest- one, two, three, littered around his torso like a map to his heart- and he can only assume that they’d been left in the wake of your last meeting, because he can’t seem to piece together the memory of them being made.

You. Where are you? Why can’t he remember where you are or what you look like? Did you finally leave? Did you finally realise that he wasn’t worth any of the pain and anguish that he’d put you through? Had you ultimately decided that Draco and the dark mark could not be separated, both physically and mentally? Maybe he never managed to redeem himself in your eyes, and it hurt so much to lose you that he made himself forget.

Redemption, he’d searched far and wide for it. He’d spent the months after the war trying to find some spiritual cleanse for the ailment in his essence, had dabbled in every muggle religion he came across in hopes of finding something that would provide him freedom from guilt. The Bible, the Qur’an, the Gita, the Torah, the Guru Granth Sahib, the Tripitaka- none of the holy books he’d read had promised him enough solace to feel deserving of love from a higher entity. They had all just reminded him of the purity and innocence that muggles embodied, the same qualities he came so close to erasing.

Redemption wasn’t in the cards for him. If it had been a game of Poker, Draco would’ve been the first fold with the knowledge that he didn’t stand a chance against the better players at the table. Who were the better players? He didn’t really know, he just knew that he wasn’t one of them.

His eyes drift toward his reflection once more and he feels disgust crawl through his anatomy. Nausea, a familiar friend in times like these, making itself comfortable in the barrel of his gut. Why had he even eaten today anyway? Sustenance won’t fill the emptiness that’s making domicile in his chest, it won’t make him less of a habitat to repulsive regret and desolation.

He walks toward the dresser and picks up a pocket knife that’s sitting in-between some make up and a music box. Then like deja vu he can already feel the weapon pinching, digging beneath his skin as if it’s trying to excavate bone. He recalls blood pouring out, drowning his pale skin in spills of vermillion and carmine, and dropping to the floor. The floor, chalky tile with tiny chards of black glass engrained in it, something that he hadn’t come up with himself but liked anyway. Who had come up with that again?

Screams, familiar but unrecognizable, had filled his ears soon after. He remembers his arm being wrapped in a bandage, him being carried off the bathroom floor and taken to the Hogwarts infirmary, no, it was actually St Mungo’s. He remembers being treated and loud cries settling down into comforting whispers beside him. He remembers feather light touches being placed on his face and kisses settling onto the skin of his palm.

He remembers something good, but he doesn’t know what.

He remembers the injury, and knows that it didn’t work.

Draco takes a deep breath and puts the knife back down. Staring at his reflection once more he sees that the man standing before him is not the same child that had stepped into battle way back when. When was that? Months? Years? He can’t tell.

The box. The box will tell him. But he doesn’t know where it is, he doesn’t even know where he is anymore. This room is definitely not his Hogwarts dorm room, it’s not in Hogwarts at all, and it’s not his room in the Manor either. Where is he?

His eyes shoot up when he hears a door shutting, and soon after voices follow suit. The voices are coming toward him, in this strange room that he’s in, and Draco struggles to identify them. His dorm mates potentially? No, this clearly isn’t Hogwarts. Friends? His mother? You?

Then there’s a laugh, from a child, from two children, and suddenly none of it makes sense any more. He knows those voices, he knows those laughs, so well that they might as well be his own, but he can’t seem to attach faces or names to them.

A few of the voices drift off, further down the hall, and one gets louder as the door to the bedroom opens. Draco holds his breath as the person walks in, not knowing what to expect, and feels a confused sense of relief wash over him when he sees you standing there.

You laugh as you enter the room, “If you can get an outstanding in Transfiguration then we’ll get you whatever your heart desires.” You respond to your daughter as you recall how both you and Draco had struggled with the subject during your Hogwarts years.

You furrow your eyebrows at the state of your bedroom- documents scattered across the bed, clothes in tiny piles all over the floor, and a tiny dent in the wall beside the bathroom door. A sigh escapes your lips as you process the mess and prepare yourself for what’s about to come. You turn and your eyes land on your husband, and your heart breaks at the sight of him. He’d promised this morning that he’d be fine, it was the only reason that you’d left him alone, but clearly he wasn’t.

“Love? Are you okay?” You ask softly as you take the shoes off of your feet and close your bedroom door behind you. He tilts his head to the side momentarily in confusion, but then realisation flashes across his eyes and he takes quick strides toward you.

“Oof.” You breathe out when he pulls you into his chest and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Y/N.” He muffles into your shoulder and you feel your heart swell with love for him- this man who recognizes you instantly, even when the entire world is nothing more than a distant memory.

“Miss me?” You ask with a small laugh as you bring your hands up to wrap around him tightly. He mumbles an agreement and you smile, “I missed you too.”

“Bad day.” He whispers and you nod, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

“I know baby, wanna talk about it?”

“No. Can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You pull him away from you and kiss his forehead with a warm smile, “We can just lie down for a while.”

He obliges as you pull him toward the bed and shuffle the papers off of it, climbing on after you and setting his head in your chest. You run your fingers through his hair and hum, trying to your best to make him feel calm and prevent another breakdown.

But your efforts are futile, within the hours that Draco had been alone he’d thought every terrible thought that he possibly could, Al-Shaitan had already tormented your husband through a series of painful misconceptions. Draco had never really subscribed to religion or faith but after the war he’d identified quite quickly with the concept of the Devil- confessing that he believed he had an evil conspirator sitting on his shoulder- and felt that his own soul deserved to be damned. You’d tried to rid him of that notion, many times, but it never worked, he was in too deep.

You tense up when you feel a cry escape his lips and his fingers tighten into the space of your torso. “I’m sorry.”

He feels terrible, terrible for ruining all of your hard work. All the effort you’d put into rebuilding him now disintegrating in the blink of an eye. But you’re here now, you’re going to fix him again, he knows it.

You try to level your breathing so that you don’t cry too, so that you don’t fall into this pit of despair with him, because Merlin knows that any pain Draco feels takes as rough a toll on you. You pull him off of you and sit up, bringing him to sit as well, so that you can look him in the eyes.

“Sorry for what Bub?”

“For being broken. I-“ He feels another sob rock through him and you pull him into your chest. “Please fix me Y/N.” He pleads, a whimper following suit.

His fingers are digging into you again, he’s clinging so tightly to you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t stay close enough, and it hurts you to know that even after all these years he’s scared that you’ll leave.

“You’re not broken Draco, there’s nothing to fix.”

“But I’m- I’m-“ Cries start to escape rapidly and interrupt him. He can’t see clearly anymore as tears form in his waterline and obstruct his view of you. It hurts, everything just hurts.

“You’re not broken, my love.” You whisper as you cup his face, “You’re not evil, you’re not bad. You’re good. You’re my husband, I love you. Did you open the box?”

He shakes his head, “Couldn’t find it.”

“Okay, let me get i-“ You’re cut off by your bedroom door opening and your children marching in.

“Dad, you’ll never guess what happened at school today- Oh, is this a bad time?” Ariel, your daughter, stops in her tracks as she raises her eyebrows at you.

You shake your head and gesture for them to come in. “I think it just got a little much for him this year. Please get me the box, love.”

Ariel goes to the headboard and pulls out the aforementioned box from the first drawer, before her and Cael, your son, get comfortable on the bed beside you and Draco. But Draco doesn’t need it anymore, he can already sense himself coming back down to earth. He knows where he is- with you, in your house, with your children, in your bed. He’s home, he’s safe.

He takes the box anyway and begins to unload its contents in silence, the three of you observing him with admiration. It’s a small circular box that your children made a few years back after witnessing one of his episodes for the first time, containing momentos from the last 18 years of you and Draco’s lives together. Pictures, notes, a few school projects.

“Tell him about what happened at school today, it’ll probably make him laugh.” Cael encourages his older sister Ariel, and she does as told.

Draco pays a significant amount of attention to the story, piecing together facts that he’s slowly starting to understand and recognize as a part of his normal life. He intertwines his fingers with Cael’s as Ariel continues telling the story from her spot on your lap.

Love.

So much love that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Bursts of it just choking him out.

Draco remembers everything now. He remembers this house of yours, the one he’d bought straight out of Hogwarts and begged you to live in with him because “It’s nothing without you in it”. These children that you’d had 14 years ago, that’d he’d been so scared to raise because he thought they’d resent him, and that made everything in the world just seem brighter. This life that he modeled with you on the embers of his haunting past, this life that reminds him he’s good.

Before you, he would’ve been terrified to show any one his vulnerable side, especially his children, but you’d taught him that loving someone means loving all the good bits and the bad bits, all the happy moments and the sad moments. Now he knows that when days like this happen, when he gets so lost inside the mental maze of his own construction, the three of you will always be waiting to help him out.

Ariel finishes her story and Draco bellows out a laugh, feeling thankful to have you three around in his moments of weakness.

His three guardian angels- the only people who can always lead him away from the shadow in his mind and toward the luminescence that he carries within him. “All the good within us is split in the middle, half from you and half from mum, just as it should be. I hope you remember that we wouldn’t be who we are without you both.” Cael suddenly speaks up and you smile pridefully at him.

“They wouldn’t.” You add once he’s done and smile, “I couldn’t have done such a bad job without you.”

“Hey!” Ariel accuses and you all laugh.

“She’s right though, I am the one who taught you hexes at age 7.” Draco grins bashfully and you roll your eyes.

“And look at us now, acing Charms!”

“See love,” Draco turns to you, “There is a method to my madness.”

“Mhmm.” You hum with a small smile. “Go do your homework, dinner soon.”

“Yes, I’m making pizza tonight.” Draco adds as he kisses both of your children on their foreheads.

They excitedly hop off the bed and run out of the room. “I can’t belie-“

“Harry called.” Draco interrupts you and your eyes go wide at his statement but you nod for him to continue, “He wanted to know how I was doing, you know with it having been 18 years since the war and all. Offered to come spend the day with me and make sure I’d be alright while you were gone.”

“And you said no?” You raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head.

“No, I told him that I’d come by his office instead. Then when I was getting ready… I just started having flashbacks again, and my mark hurt. I felt horrible all of a sudden, like there was huge weight on my chest and this fog obscuring my vision.”

There are few things that Draco has faith in, but you, you he never runs short on trust for. You’re a constant in his life, a shoulder that he can always rely on when he needs it, and as he sits here and tells you about his day, he feels love for you hit him tenfold.

You, this beautiful, kind, ethereal being that has no place on earth. You, the one who’s managed to convince him that saints are real. You, who has given him your entire life, along with all the love that you have to offer. You, Y/N, the love of his life.

You.

An angel.

~~~

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

They’re Your Ideal Type ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

“So, what was your ideal type?” Jin asked as the two of you sat and reminisced about the early days of your relationship.

You stared innocently across at him, “you really want to hear about it?”

“Of course,” he grinned, “I’ll tell you what my ideal type was if you tell me yours.”

“Honestly,” you sniggered, unable to bring yourself to look at him, “my ideal type was pretty much you. I wanted someone who laughed to laugh, didn’t take themselves to seriously, tall, a good cook, it’s like someone was looking down on me the day I bet you.”

Both of your cheeks turned a dark shade of red as Jin bit down on his lip to stop himself from teasing. “So, I’ve always been perfect in your eyes?”

“Well, I never said that” you joked, covering your cheeks with your hands. “But you were pretty close to perfection when I met you, and now that we’ve spent all these years together. Yeah, I’d say you’re the perfect one for me.”

“I always knew I’d be perfect for someone someday.”

Yoongi:

“What sort of guy are you looking for?” The guy across from you asked, taking a sip from his glass of wine with his eyes on you.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks burn up, “you’ll think I’m an idiot.”

“I won’t,” he assured you, “I’m always interested in what you saw in me that you like.”

“A lot,” you nervously informed him, watching his smile grow. “When I read through your profile on the dating app, there were a lot of things about you that I quite liked. We just seemed to have a lot in common, and physically you’re definitely my kind of guy.”

Your date couldn’t hide his own embarrassment as you sat and boosted his ego. “I’m glad that I could tick so many boxes for you.”

“They’re not easy boxes to fill,” you chuckled, shying away from him. “I’m quite fussy about who I date, I’ve had many dates where they’ve just not been what I thought. But something with you just feels different, I really like it.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because so do I.”

Hoseok:

“Did you always fancy our Hobi?” You heard his aunt ask you from across the table, taking you slightly by surprise.

Your eyes looked across to Hobi, “of course. He’s my type, for sure.”

“What type is that?” She pushed, beginning to make you uncomfortable.

“He’s funny,” you began, despite Hobi letting you know that you didn’t have to answer. “He makes me laugh, which is the most important thing that makes a guy my type. He’s also incredibly handsome, and super sweet, that’s why he’s my type.”

Hobi’s eyes fell away from you as his cheeks reddened in front of his family. “I only ask because we only want the best for our Hobi.”

“I’ll always give him my best,” you assured her, trying hard to disguise your annoyance. “You don’t have to worry about me hurting him or anything, I’ve waited a long time to find my perfect match, but I think I’ve found it in him.”

“And I’ve definitely found mine in Y/N too.”

Namjoon:

“What do you actually see in Namjoon?” Jungkook teased as you sat to dinner, “he’s definitely punching dating you Y/N.”

Your head shook in response, “I’m definitely the one who is punching here.”

“How?” Jimin laughed in disbelief, “what can someone even find so good in Namjoon.”

“How long do you have?” You quizzed, resting your hand over Namjoon’s. “He’s got an incredibly smart brain, he’s tall, creative, three of the most important things I look for in any guy. That’s the good that I find in Namjoon, and there’s a lot more too.”

Namjoon proudly smiled as you managed to silence the rest of the group. “It’s really so obvious how single and jealous you all are.”

“I’m sure you’ll be the ideal type for someone,” you told them all, looking around the group. “Namjoon will probably sit and wonder what a girl may see in you too. But this one is my type, even if he might not be for the rest of you.”

“He’s very lucky to have someone like you Y/N.”

Jimin:

“Did you always have an eye on me?” Jimin asked, intertwining his hand with yours as you began to settle down to sleep.

Your head nodded gently, “the minute I saw you, you had my full attention.”

“Out of all of them guys?” He asked, “but the club was so busy that night. It’s impossible.”

“I’m being serious,” you answered, curling up into his chest. “I took one look at you and that smile of yours and I knew you were the one. You were just my ideal type, you stood out to me more then anyone else did in the club that night, by far.”

His smile grew, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I thought I’d just spilt my drink or something because you stared at me so much.”

“It was because I liked you,” you laughed, hiding your face in his neck, “I still like you a lot. That’s probably why I knew when I looked at you that I’d have to go over and say hi. I wasn’t going to let someone like you go anywhere.”

“I’m pretty relieved that you didn’t either too.”

Taehyung:

“You’re seriously telling me after all these years, I’ve always been your ideal type?” Taehyung blushed from across the table.

Your head nodded immediately, “it’s not a lie, even in school I fancied you.”

“But I’ve changed so much,” he protested, “has there really never been a point where that stopped?”

“Just because you make a few changes doesn’t stop you from being my ideal type,” you reminded him, “it doesn’t change your personality or your basic looks. Eleven-year-old me fancied you, just as much as I do nowadays too.”

His head shook, feeling his cheeks flush. “I just always imagined that there would be a point where you thought I wasn’t your type.”

“That’s never been the case,” you quickly assured him, “dying your hair or changing up your style doesn’t alter the person that you are, you’re still the Taehyung I fell in love with at school, that will never change.”

“I guess if you love each other, nothing will change that.”

Jungkook:

“Don’t you think tall, dark and handsome is such a stereotype?” Jungkook asked you as you continued to watch the main character in the film.

Your head turned back to look at him, “it’s quite a common type. Why, do you?”

“That’s what your type was, wasn’t it?” He laughed, noticing how defensive you got.

“There’s a reason I’m with you,” you blushed, feeling his arms snake around your waist. “There’s just something about men that have those features that I can’t explain. I bet there’s plenty of girls that would have you written down as their ideal type.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide his smile as you continued to talk. “I never really imagined myself as your ideal type, I didn’t think that was a thing.”

“Neither did I, until I met you,” you responded, feeling his lips rest against your forehead. “It was only when I met you, that I realised I do have a type. You’re tall, dark haired, and you just so happen to be very handsome too.”

“That’s something you can tell me again and again.”

---

Masterlist

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 years

Note

Tying-Werewolf!Billy-Down Anon here. I am currently procrastinating studying for a Linguistics final, and what better way to do so than analyzing our favorite Billy Russo.

So, thinking about it werepanther!Billy thoughts, and given the fact that he is more Deliberate and Calculative than werewolf!Billy, I feel like he’d vibe better with a partner who is just as coolheaded and cutthroat? Like, before Reader even knows what he is, when they have to work together, Reader matches him stride for stride while on a mission—she’s the perfect image of competence and efficiency and werepanther!Billy is just like oh. Oh. I like you.

And maybe going off of that one werepanther!Billy post (I think it was either today or yesterday, and I can’t remember if it was by an anon or a specific user), Reader thinks that Billy doesn’t like her when they first meet/work together because he is so naturally nonchalant I hc that mans really just had a resting bitch face which he uses to his advantage. But because it’s like maybe a one-time job or maybe just a short working-together period at Anvil, she just shrugs it off and continues to work with him as a means to the ends (modified Pride and Prejudice vibes anyone??).

Anyway, so, Billy gets used to working with her—gets used to having someone watching his back and trusting her to do it and even kind of looking forward to it and oh no ~feelings~.

Now, Billy, especially werepanther!Billy, doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to let go of something he want. No—no way. He’s the kind of person to pull some strings to get Reader—whether she be some kind of freelance agent or working for another company similar to Anvil—to continue working with him on projects, desperately trying to get closer to her but super nonchalantly (kind of like when a house cat just so ‘happens’ to be in the same room as you, near you, and oh well I’m at your desk might as well lean over to give me some always-deserved head scratches, yes?).

Reader is frustrated because Jesus Christ how many problems does Anvil have that require her level of expertise, along with Russo’s?? Why does she have to keep working with him???? At least let her work with Frank so she doesn’t have to deal with Russo just judgingly (affectionately) staring at her all the time.

She’s there so often that at some point Billy just gifts her an office (suspiciously near his even though there aren’t even any other offices on his floor), still riding the faux-nonchalance wave like his life fucking depends on it.

With all this in mind, I can’t tell which I like better in terms of Reader a) finding out what Billy is, and b) found out that he doesn’t hate her, he actually likes her to the point of loving her.

Given they’re working on missions together, it could be a case of a honeypot scenario where Reader has to seduce someone for information and Billy, stuck on comms as backup should she need it, is chomping at the bit to just get her out of there and see if she’ll talk to him as sweetly as that fucker she’s currently flirting with. Mission goes one of two ways: either Billy butts in as soon as things start to get a little too physical for his liking (Reader leans in like two inches from the target’s ear to whisper into it and lightly touches the back of the target’s hand), or she succeeds in getting through with the mission with minimal sexy times implied and comes back to a half-transformed Billy with eyes dark with anger, possessiveness, and lust.

That’s all well and good, but it could also also be the result of Reader getting hurt during a mission (I am a slut for angst). I think the best way for this to go down is for Billy and Reader to be far apart when on a mission when she suddenly stops responding to her comms. The system from her end is still on—jammed, most likely—but she isn’t responding and he can hear gunfire spewing and voices that aren’t hers shouting through it. Cue our normal calculative Billy going ballistic—I’d say he transforms completely out of sheer rage to get to her, tear her assailants apart, and then rest pressed up against her body while they wait for help. Reader wakes up (from either a serious bonk on the head or from a moment of consciousness amidst bleeding out) and sees this fucking giant panther staring at her as it rests against her thigh (they’re in the middle of some major city, how the fuck is there a wildcat here??). For a second, she’s terrified (a valid response), but then the thing starts purring while looking at her and nuzzling up against her side and she’s like… okay…? (Maybe there are dog tags around it’s neck and she parses from that that it’s Billy, but I honestly think it’d be funnier if she passes back out soon after that, wakes up, and is just like ‘yeah, got rescued by this giant panther… idk what is up but maybe we need to get the stray population here under control before we do anything else’).

TL:DR werepanther!Billy loves a Reader who is fucking good at kicking ass along side him, is shit at showing it, and thus a slightly oblivious Reader thinks he hates her and so mildly dislikes him by association—hijinks most certainly ensue.

Let me know what you think of all that (I am so sorry that I basically just wrote an essay about this… I’ve been drowning in thoughts about this and needed to purge my mind of them so I could get back to work). As always, I love your content and thank you so much for brightening our days with it :)

Babeee.... I hope you know I'm gonna use some of this, but it was so good and exciting to read. I wrote the reader in as some sort of cybersecurity specialist, fitting Anvil for an improved security system. She's smart, but also sarcastic as hell and gives the honest truth everytime.

I hope you read the first little part and liked it, this ask helped me a bit to develop a game plan 😅😅 though we'll see how well i write it.

#ask #werepanther!billy russo

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #danger first #danger first au

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