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#if someone braver than i has watched the whole thing and wants to tell me how it ends please just put me out of my misery
my5hiningstars · 8 months
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otakusheep15 · 7 months
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Obey Me Flufftober Day 31
Prompt: Haunted House
Pairing: all (separate) x reader (gender neutral) (platonic Luke)
Word count: 3,321
A/n: You guys voted, and surprise 3 won, meaning I get to write about everyone in a haunted house! I still don't know how I managed to make it through yet another October, but I'm very proud of the work I've done this month. As a reminder, my inbox is almost always open if anyone wants to send in a request. My fandom list is on my pinned post, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to ask!
Lucifer
He is not scared in the slightest, and it's actually very funny to watch. Like, the scare actors try so hard to get him to jump, and it does not work at all.
Lucifer is definitely the type to critique the design of the house. He'll talk about how a decoration is inaccurate or a prop is out of place. Truly a menace indeed.
I feel like he would be so into grilling the details of the house that it would be easy to scare him in this moment. None of the scare actors get him, but if you or one of his brothers sneaks up on him, he will jump. Then he'll deny it ever happened of course.
His main priority is watching over you. If you're scared of haunted houses or if you're just jumpy in general, he'll hide you behind him and threaten any actors who try to scare you. If you're not scared, he still keeps a close eye on you as you run around with the others, though he's a little less protective since you can handle yourself.
None of the scare actors particularly like him because of how he is in the house, but at least he's not as chaotic as his brothers, so he gets a minute pass.
Mammon
Scared, horrified, running away from literally everything.
Poor Mammon would not last two second in a haunted house. He'd be so cocky beforehand, bragging about how brave and cool he is, and then immediately gets scared by a creaky door or something.
Scare actors love him because of how easily frightened he is. Mammon practically jumps ten feet in the air anytime someone jumpscares him.
However, Mammon does have quick reflexes, so he might accidentally punch an actor in the face and get banned for life, so make sure he avoids that.
Regardless of how brave you are in this situation, Mammon is clinging to you for dear life. If you're also a scardy-cat like him, then the two of you cower behind Lucifer the whole time to avoid the jumpscares. If you're braver than him, he'll pretend to be your knight in shining armor to impress you, immediately gets scared, and hides behind you for the rest of the night.
Once getting out, he'll deny ever being scared, but Levi got everything on tape, so no amount of denying will erase it.
Leviathan
You'd think he'd be scared, you you'd be so wrong. This kind of thing is like a paradise to Levi.
He loves all things horror, so haunted houses are definitely his jam. Yeah, he does get jumpscared easily, but that's all part of the fun to him. He loves it when the scare actors manage to get him, and he'll compliment them on how well they're doing before moving on.
If he's allowed to record, you best believe he is vlogging every last detail. Levi def has a Deviltube channel, and he will post the entire thing, including everyone else getting scared.
Levi will absolutely cling to your side the entire time. If you're scared by haunted houses, he might make fun of you a bit for being a normie, but he doesn't mean anything by it. This might actually be one of the few times you'll ever see confident Levi. He'll walk in front of you and tell you when he thinks a scare might come up, as he's pretty good at predicting those sorts of things. If you're also a lover of haunted houses, the two of you are having so much fun. You're so hyped up, running around and trying to find all of the hidden details and scare actors.
Levi's probably one of the best to go to a haunted house with, as he's one of the few who actually understands proper haunted house etiquette, plus he's one of the few who actually enjoys this kind of thing.
Satan
Do not, and I repeat, do not take him to a haunted house ever. It will end in disaster for everyone.
Satan hates being jumpscared. As much as he hates to admit it, he is surprisingly jumpy, so him and haunted houses do not mix. When he gets scared, he gets mad, and Satan mad is never good. He will go on an absolute tear and destroy the whole haunted house.
But, let's assume he wouldn't do such a thing. As long as he doesn't get scared, Satan is pretty good company for a haunted house. He likes exploring all of the different rooms and looking for any hidden details.
If you really wanna have fun, you should take him to a haunted escape room instead. That way, he can focus more on the puzzles and the problem solving and less on the scares.
Satan is also good company if you're afraid of haunted houses. He'll protect you from anything scary, and if he senses a scare is about to happen, he'll hide you so you don't have to see it. However, if you enjoy haunted houses, Satan is content to let you do your own thing while he stays a bit behind. If you're with a group, he prefers to stay in the back and hang out there, but if it's just the two of you, he'll walk behind you while you lead the charge.
Asmodeus
He has a love-hate relationship with haunted houses. On the one hand, Asmo hates being scared. He does not like scary movies, books, games, or any other work of horror. On the other hand, he can appreciate the time and effort put into haunted houses, especially when it comes to wardrobe and makeup. While it may not be his personal style, he loves all of the little details inthe scare actors' costumes and makeup, and will compliment them.
He's another one to vlog his haunted house experience if he's allowed to. Honestly, even if he weren't allowed, he probably would anyway, resulting in him getting kicked out. Playing the influencer card would not help him here.
Asmo does jump easily, but he is also good at recovering quickly in order to save face, so even if he is scared, you barely notice before he's back to his usual self.
If you're jumpy like him, the two of you will hide together. this is especially true when you're in a group because you will be hiding in the middle like a protective shield. If you like haunted houses, Asmo will ramp up the drama and make you into his knight and shining armor. He'll pretend to faint so that you'll catch him, he'll cling to your arm, etc. etc. It's actually quite cute as long as it's something you enjoy as well.
Beelzebub
He's actually a lot of fun in a haunted house. I imagine that a lot of the scare actors would actually be afraid of him considering how intimidated he looks and how he keeps commenting about how edible some of the scenery looks.
Beel is kinda bored since he's hard to scare, but he still enjoys walking around. As long as he has something to snack on, he's good with being in a haunted house for a bit.
If you're going with a group, Beel will kinda become the leader by default since he's big enough to be a shield for some of the jumpers like Mammon and Asmo. If it's just the two of you, he'll stick by you and will hold your hand if you'd like him to.
If you're someone who is easily frightened, he'll protect you. You can stand behind him and cling to his shirt while he guides you through the house. Beel will most likely glare at actors who scare you, but he knows that it's their job, so he doesn't do much more than that.
Conversely, if you're someone who likes haunted houses, he's more than happy to let you lead the way. Watching you get all excited whenever a jumpscare happens makes him smile, and he loves seeing you so happy.
Belphegor
This demon thrives in haunted houses. They are actually his natural habitat, but you didn't hear that from me.
Belphie is also an absolute menace. Scare actors hate him because he makes it his mission to scare them first. He's been kicked out of several haunted houses because of this, but he just keeps going back anyways.
When he's with a group, he'll usually stick towards the back, or he'll have someone carry him so that he can sleep. When he's just with you, he'll either drag along behind you if he's tired, or lead you if he's more awake and interested.
If you're not fond of haunted houses or if you're more jumpy, he'll stay in front of you, but not much more than that. He still laughs when you get scared, but he'll hold your hand for the rest of the way and comfort you when you get outside. He'd apologize for laughing, but he'd do it again the next time anyways. Not out of malice though; that's just how he is.
If you're a fan of haunted houses, you and Belphie have a blast. Just makes sure you keep him from getting kicked out again. You two run around and explore and have the best time. Like Satan, he'd also enjoy a haunted house themed escape room. The three of you hanging out and doing an escape room is the idea hangout.
Diavolo
Absolutely obsessed with haunted houses. Like, this man is having the most fun you've ever seen. He's like a child experiencing his first haunted house, and it's adorable. It's also most likely accurate, as he doesn't get out much and probably hasn't actually experienced one before.
Dia is a major extravert, so he's very good when in a group. He's not very jumpy, and actually laughs when the actors try to scare him, so he's good for leading the charge and protecting everyone else. If it's just the two of you, Diavolo will make sure you're having the most fun you possibly can.
If you dislike haunted houses, Diavolo will make sure you're safe at all times. He'll hide you behind him and keep you away from all possible jumpscares. It's nice to see him so protective, but it's also intimidating to the scare actors, as the last thing they want is to accidentally upset this man or his partner.
If you like haunted houses, then he'll be so excited. He's dragging you around to any and all haunted houses he can find and he's having the time of his life with you. Watching you have fun is also fun for him.
Barbatos
Chaos. Absolute chaos. One scare actor tries to jumpscare him and suddenly they can no longer be found. he denies everything of course, but you know.
Barbatos hates being scared. Can he sense a scare coming from a mile away? Yes. Does he still somehow get scared anyway? Also yes. He actually hates haunted houses, but he'll never let anyone know. He's super good at hiding it, and by hiding it, I mean hiding the bodies of the scare actors he accidentally kills when they scare him just a bit too much.
If you don't like haunted houses, then that's perfect for him. Instead, he'll gladly stand outside with you while your group goes inside. He's definitely the themepark mom who stands outside of all the attractions and holds the bags for everyone, and that's especially true here. please stand outside with him and keep him company. He's actually very embarrassed about it, even if he won't show it.
If you want to go into the haunted house, he'll begrudgingly agree as well. He stays quiet, and you'll never know how scared he is. Like I said, he's great at keeping his fear hidden, and he's also good at predicting jumpscares, but it's one thing to predict a scare and another to be prepared for it.
Please show him some mercy and just let him stay outside. He needs a break, plus it would keep the poor scare actors alive as well, so it's a win-win for everyone.
Simeon
The confused but happy-to-be-there grandpa. He's having a good time, but he doesn't really understand the point of a haunted house. When he gets scared, he jumps then laughs it off and talks about how good the actor got him, and it's actually very cute.
Haunted houses aren't much his scene, but he doesn't mind them. Simeon isn't very jumpy, but he does get scared on occasion if it's a particularly good one. He's also the type to pretend to be scared because he'd feel bad. It's the actor's job after all, so he wants them to succeed. It's actually very adorable.
If you dislike haunted houses, he understands and would gladly stand outside with you if you need. However, if you go in anyways, he'd let you hide behind him. Simeon is a bit chaotic, so he might try to scare you himself, but not too bad. Plus, he'd protect you from the actual scares, so it's not too bad.
If you enjoy haunted houses, Simeon is more than happy to stay behind you while you lead the way. He's not scared, but he'd much rather you take the brunt of the jumpscares so that he can simply enjoy his time with you.
Luke
He tries so hard to be brave, and it does not work at all. Luke would refuse to go in without Simeon with him, and he'd cling to him the entire time. He would also stay with you because he trusts you to keep him safe.
Please keep him away from the brothers. They will make it their mission to scare poor Luke, so keep an eye on them just in case. Also make sure Luke stays somewhere in the middle of the group so that he can avoid as many jumpscares as possible.
Like I said, Luke would try so hard to put on a brave face. He'd march in all tough-looking and would immediately get scared by the opening scare.
Ideally, he would just hang out outside with Barbatos and Simeon, but he'd go in for you. He wants to look tough for you if no one else because he looks up to you so much. This is especially true if you're scared as well, as he wants you to feel like he can protect you as your guardian angel.
However, if you're not scared, he will hide behind you. He tries to convince you he's not scared and that he's just protecting your back, but you both know the truth. Just take pity on him and hype him up so that he gains some confidence.
Solomon
Another menace. He's casting small spells here and there to create extra scares that never existed. He's out here scaring the scare actors because no one knows how that prop got there, meanwhile he's just goofing off. His main targets are Asmo and Barbs since they're his pactmates, but he's an equal opportunist menace, and he will go after anyone.
You're not safe either. You thought that because he loves you that you would be safe, but you're so wrong. He actively targets you more because he loves you. Nothing too major of course, but he is a prankster by nature, and this is no exception. He's out here scaring you more than the actors.
If you're genuinely scared, he won't add onto that too much. Maybe on little prank here and there, but just to make you laugh rather than to scare you.
However, if you enjoy being scared, he is not holding back. Solomon will go all out, and at this point, he's going to put the scare actors out of a job. It's silly, but please tell him to tone it down before he gets banned. Not that he'll care, but still.
Thirteen
Yet another menace. However, she's a nice menace. Thirteen is the type to force someone else to be at the front so that they get the brunt of the scares. She will also fight with Solomon the entire time, but that's how she usually is anyways.
Thirteen isn't jumpy at all, so none of the scares get her. However, she'll sometimes pretend to be scared because she thinks it's fun for her. She also likes to scare the actors back, so she's also one who'll get kicked out of haunted houses for messing with them.
She will bully Mammon for being scared and actively make sure he's even more scared with her own tricks. It's a little mean, but it is also very funny, and the video Levi gets is golden.
If you're easily scared, she will tone it down a bit for your sake. Unlike Solomon, she won't try to scare you at all, instead focusing more on making sure you're okay. If needed, she will stay outside with you, even if she really wants to go inside. She'd do anything to make you comfortable, even at the sacrifice of her own enjoyment.
However, if you're like her, you two will probably get arrested. She will drag you into so many pranks, and it's so much fun. Just make sure you stay away from Lucifer and Barbatos lest they punish you. Also, like I said, you might get arrested or kicked out, but she doesn't care.
Mephistopheles
Surprisingly not scared that much. He might jump a bit, but it's barely a reaction at all. He's actually so bland it's sad. Like, he doesn't get into chaos, but he also isn't jumpy. Mephisto kinda just exists within the group. The most he'll do is make fun of the ones who do get scared, which might end up in a fight, but that's it.
He wouldn't mind hanging out outside with Barbatos, but he'd prefer being inside to stay with Diavolo (simp).
If you were scared, he'd stay by you and let you hold his arm. He hides you when he senses a scare coming on, and if anyone bullies you, he will fight them. It's a sweet gesture, but the extra yelling doesn't help.
If you enjoy being in the house, he's fine letting you go off on your own. He'll look after you from afar, but he won't bother you too much so that you can have your own fun. He'd join you if you want him to, but if not, he'd rather hang back and just enjoy walking through the house.
Raphael
Stoic. Calm. Not scared at all. It's actually the scariest part of this adventure. Like, he shows zero emotion when in the haunted house. No one knows how, but they fear him greatly.
He'd probably prefer to be one of the ones to stay out of the house and hang out at the entrance, but if you want him to go, he will.
He tries his best to keep the group in line, but he fails miserably. It's just him, Lucifer, and Barbatos suffering in silence while the group causes chaos around them.
If you're afraid, he'd gladly stay outside with you. He'd hang out and wait for the group with you and that would make him so happy. However, if you did go in, Raphael is your best protector. He keeps you away from any and all jumpscares and will not let you out of his sight until it's over.
If you're not scared, he'd still go in with you, but he'd be less protective. He would be fine letting you go off and have fun, but he'd still keep an eye on you just to make sure you're staying out of trouble. If he senses you causing chaos, he will step in and tell you to calm down, but he still wants you to have fun, so he tries his best to be lenient.
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ssentimentals · 9 months
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seventeen members as their natal charts: hoshi
sun in gemini, moon in gemini
this man is very social and friendly, more intelligent and serious than he looks; has a hard time concentrating and generally is not the best at being stable cause he gets bored quickly, he is temperamental and efficient, usually very comfortable in his skin and will help you to feel the same!
'just be yourself.' you startle, turning to see soonyoung leaning over the railing, looking at you with uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. 'and they will like you.'
swallowing the lump in your throat, you mutter: 'easy for you to say.'
you don't mean it in a rude way even if it comes out as such; it's just you can't imagine someone not liking soonyoung. his ability to just throw himself out there with an astonishing confidence that he'll be accepted anyway is something you're very jealous of, because being that open doesn't come naturally to you. it's sweet though, how he came out to offer some kind of support when you two are not exactly close.
'it really is easy,' he presses and you've never seen him look so serious before. he's always smiling, laughing, being the sunshine and to see frown etched between his eyebrows is very unusual. 'just go out there and be yourself and-'
'and what if they won't like me?' you interrupt, voicing out your hidden fear. 'what if they won't accept me?'
soonyoung easily jumps over the railing, now standing on your side and very, very close to you. his eyes shine with determination and when he takes your hand in his, you feel a little braver. 'they will like you,' he assures. 'but for that to happen you need to go out there and show yourself. how they'll like you without knowing you?'
you're not sure why he's so dead set on making you more confident, but you don't question his motives, smiling back at him. 'i'm not as open as you are,' you say. 'or as likable as you are.'
'you don't have to be,' this time he interlaces your fingers, effectively cutting air supply from your lungs with this gesture. his easiness starts to rub off on you. 'you just be you and don't worry about nothing else, okay? it's not like there's something else you can do.'
the truth in his words makes you take a deep breath and calm down. he is right, there's nothing else you can do. seeing how his words finally reached your mind, soonyoung smiles, swinging both of your hands from side to side. 'you'll do terrific. go, good luck! i'll be here.' at your questioning gaze, he winks. 'so you can tell me all about how it went.'
there's something shimmering here, you can tell that he wants to say something more but holds himself back. he squeezes your hands and you feel flow of bravery once more. maybe it's his magic power? 'thank you,' you say and move away, feeling his gaze on your back all the time.
this man approaches love in a relaxed and carefree manner and might have troubles with committing (needs someone active and easy-going for a partner, who will constantly fascinate him), is surpisingly not as emotional in love as you'd expect him to be, always keeps relationships fun, it's never boring with him!
'and then we can go on that boat thing, what do you think?'
hearing excitement in soonyoung's voice makes you smile. 'sure! if weather ends up being bad, we can try indoor archery? i heard they have it here.'
'and there's an indoor swimming pool,' soonyoung comments, watching your reaction closely. he knows he can be a lot, it's a bit hard for him to sit still when he is excited and he doesn't want to pressure you into agreeing to too many activities. 'or if that's too much-'
'oh, yeah, i also heard about the indoor swimming pool!' your smile is genuine and you easily reflect his excitement right back at him. 'we can go there after dinner, i think we'll be very busy with all activities whole day.'
you go on about different plans, but he's not really listening to you anymore. soonyoung doesn't know how to explain it, he is not sure that you'll understand. how every single time you agree to try something new with him, his heart grows bigger. how he is close to crying out of gratitude when you both stay level-headed during small fights. how he is always - constantly, 24/7 - is in awe from you. he decides to let the last part out, because you deserve to know: 'you fascinate me.' he watches you turn to him, surprised. for a good measure he adds: 'always. all the time. i don't know how you do it, to be honest.'
he sees your shy answering smile and thinks that maybe he met the one. he never thought he would, not with how 'too much' he is, not with how hard relationships can be to him sometimes. but when you step closer and whisper that this feeling is mutual, that you are fascinated by him too, he feels his hope spark up in his heart. he'll never stop being in awe from you, finding everything, every small little thing about fascinating and otherwordly. it won't stop, not now, not ever.
a/n: your honor, this boy makes me go '!!!' and my heart can't take it anymore :( - nini
tagging @prpldahy
my masterlist is here
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jeonqkooks · 1 year
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Hey 🧡
Can I request number 15 (angst) - "I see the way you look at them" with Jimin?
hopelessly devoted | pjm
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pairing: jimin x f!reader, side namjoon x f!reader
rating: PG
genre/warnings: angst, unrequited love au, jimin is a sad boi :(, idk i think that's it lol there's not much other than $4D
word count: 1.3k
note: i hope you're still around anon and i hope you like this <3 !! also massive thank you's to @daechwitatamic and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing me and not letting me think it was a flaming pile of garbage lol! i love uuuuuu 💕
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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“You’re a saint.”
Jimin turns to the left to meet the eyes of a man whose name he still hasn’t bothered learning. They’ve met a few times at birthday parties and other group dinners, but not once has Jimin officially spoken to him. He just knows him as one of Namjoon’s friends.
“What was that?” Jimin asks in a low voice, as to not disturb the scene that’s about to unfold in the adjacent room – the room that he, a dozen of his friends and strangers spent the whole day decorating with heart-shaped balloons and rose petals. The door is cracked open just a few inches so he could hear everything that’s going on and know when to burst in when the time is right. 
He sees you with your back turned to him. How fitting; him, always standing behind you, forced to watch you keep your eyes on another man.
“You’re a saint,” the man repeats simply, eyes full of pity, and Jimin realizes then that this stranger knows a secret of his that even you aren’t privy to. “I see the way you look at her.”
Jimin calmly blinks, even though he’s just been caught, bleeding heart and all. A single sentence, cutting him open a few feet away from where love is in full bloom.
He should be scrambling to deny any and all accusations, scoff and pretend that he has no idea what the stranger is insinuating.
Instead, he reminds himself to breathe. He doesn’t have anything to hide, at least not anymore. He’s only a guy, hopelessly in love with a girl who is hopelessly in love with someone else. The excitement radiating off everyone except for him is palpable. Your girlfriends can barely stay quiet and keep from ruining the moment for you and Namjoon. They bounce on their feet in anticipation, unaware that right next to them, Jimin is still wishing on a comet he saw a lifetime ago, that you would turn around. That you would leave everything just to go to him, to finally see him.
“That obvious, huh?” Jimin asks, teasingly self-deprecating even in the face of heartbreak. 
What he gets in return is a shrug. “I don’t understand how you can be so selfless,” the man says. “I could never watch the girl I have feelings for be happy with someone else.”
Jimin hums sagely. It isn’t even the truth. He doesn’t want to be selfless, he wants to be selfish. He wants to storm into the room and shake you by the shoulders until you understand that his affection for you extends far beyond the confines of friendship. 
He would do anything you ask him to. By extension, he supposes what Namjoon wants falls under this category too. If there’s anything that anyone should know about Jimin, it’s that he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you’re happy, even if it means putting on a smile and telling Namjoon yes when the other man came to him for help on proposing to you.
Love shouldn’t hurt like this, but it does.
Jimin watches the scene unfold through the crack of the door. He hears the deafening beats of his heart in his ears while everybody waits for the crescendo.
Namjoon gets on one knee, and your friends can all see the exact moment your world stops.
Time halts, and Jimin reminisces.
Four hundred and seventy five days.
That’s how long he’s been thinking about the improbability of you and him, and about how things could’ve gone so differently had he been braver just a little sooner.
Four hundred and seventy five nights Jimin has spent, lying in his bed alone and staring at the ceiling. Restless and aching to the bone. Because four hundred and seventy five days ago, he finally managed to gather the courage to tell you how he felt about you after weeks of nerve wracking contemplation and years of unspoken, untested love. He’d rehearsed countless times what he was going to tell you. There had even been a speech planned, for when you rejected him and told him that the pair of you would be better off as friends.
It took him everything just to stand in front of your door that night, with his love so tangible he could hold it in his hands, clumsily prepared to ask you to keep it.
When you opened the door and flashed him that ever glowing sunshine smile of yours, his heart almost gave out. Five minutes later, it did, but for a reason he hadn’t seen coming. With that beautiful grin still plastered on your face, you uttered the words that completely knocked him off his axis.
“Namjoon asked me out today.”
Kim Namjoon, the man you had been crushing on ever since you laid eyes on him two months prior. He was part of the reason why Jimin decided to grow a pair and confess to you, but as it seems, the universe had other intentions.
He was one step behind.
Always just a step behind.
With every milestone that you reached with Namjoon, the part of him that always held out hope that it’d be you and him in the end gradually chipped away. Your anniversaries, the first time you met each other’s parents, and eventually, when you agreed to move in with Namjoon… Every time he listened to you talk about your boyfriend with a twinkle in your eyes, Jimin could only nod along and smile, muttering words of encouragement to you because he was a good friend.
He was a good friend and he was happy that you were happy.
Despite how much he wished it had been him in Namjoon’s place instead.
Despite how much he thought it should’ve been him.
Jimin understands it better than most people: Love is pain.
The irony isn’t lost on him, how the same word means such different things for the both of you.
You say yes, because of course you do. You’re the princess and Namjoon is Prince Charming, destined to come in and sweep you off your feet. This is your fairytale ending and Jimin is standing right here, merely a bystander to your happiness.
As Namjoon slips the diamond ring onto your delicate finger, Jimin has to grasp the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he will never be the main character in the story of your life. Your tears spill over and he watches Namjoon wipe them away. He commits to memory the complete and utter joy you wear when your now fiance gathers you in his arms and gently spins you around, the content smiles on both your faces blurry from a distance.
Or perhaps it’s Jimin’s own vision clouding from the sting he feels piercing through his chest.
His heartbeat is so loud that he can’t even hear Namjoon usher everybody in. He doesn’t really register his surroundings until your friends all rush to your side with delighted squeals of congratulations.
Jimin has never seen you look this happy before. Surrounded by the love of your life and all your closest friends, you radiate a glow that he has only ever witnessed in his dreams. Nobody seems to notice that he’s still standing there, rooted to the ground, while people celebrate what must be one of the most memorable moments of your life.
It’s not until your gaze dances across the room and lands on him in the dark that Jimin remembers how to fake a smile again. He immediately perks up for your sake, though he’s sure that you aren’t even conscious of the brave face he’s putting on.
He walks over to you then, wearing a bright grin and dragging a sunken heart that no one else can see. The hug you share is one he wishes could last for an eternity, before you leave him for someone else forever. The stranger’s eyes burn the side of his face.
Tonight is just another sleepless night.
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— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.02.23]
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edenmemes · 2 years
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overwatch 2 starters
more to be added !
❝ umm...you need aim training. ❞   ❝ if we do this right, they won’t even know what happened. ❞   ❝ can’t change the world by following all the rules. ❞   ❝ somebody has to stand up for the people. ❞   ❝ i’ll find my own path. ❞   ❝ if anybody asks, i was never here. ❞ ❝ seeking progress by sowing chaos is like planting a tree in a volcano. ❞ ❝ i was born to rule. ❞ ❝ do you remember that night? dancing until dawn. ❞ ❝ you have an intense gaze. ❞ ❝ when i look at you, i see pure unadulterated chaos. ❞   ❝ someone has to do the dirty work. ❞   ❝ you’re too good with that gun to waste it on a life of crime. ❞ ❝ i’ve taken naps harder than you. ❞ ❝ why seek answers when we do not know the question? ❞ ❝ i warned you. should have listened. ❞ ❝ i could not bear being the man they’d made of me. ❞ ❝ there’ll be consequences for that. ❞ ❝ forgive me. my mind has been...turbulent, lately. ❞ ❝ you’re either braver or dumber than you look to come back here. ❞ ❝ here’s the plan: do what i do, listen to what i say, and don’t screw this up. ❞   ❝ you remind me of myself when i was younger. ❞   ❝ licked my wounds. let’s go. ❞ ❝ honor is all i have left. ❞ ❝ i have a feeling we’re going to get along. ❞ ❝ i expect better from you. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to talk about it. ❞ ❝ you count on me, i count on you. ❞ ❝ you only lose if you stay down. ❞ ❝ dark clouds gather on the horizon. a storm is coming. ❞ ❝ eh...i’ve got plenty of teeth left. ❞ ❝ we can still be friends, right? ❞ ❝ look at the state of the world. something has to change. ❞   ❝ i’m just getting started. ❞   ❝ you know better than to turn your back on me. ❞ ❝ heh, did i scare you? ❞ ❝ if they won’t quit, neither will i. ❞ ❝ make sure you’re ready. who knows what we’ll find out there. ❞ ❝ talk to the hand. ❞ ❝ i’ve done things i’m not proud of. time to start making up for it. ❞   ❝ i love a good brawl. ❞   ❝ hm...why does this place feel familiar? ❞ ❝ don’t you ever wanna settle down? ❞   ❝ you can’t escape death. ❞   ❝ watch your step. it’s a long way down. ❞ ❝ meh, that party was boring. ❞ ❝ what’s right isn’t always legal. ❞ ❝ you know better than to show your face around here. ❞ ❝ my throne is where i say it is. ❞   ❝ i do not cower in the presence of evil. ❞ ❝ you’re not on my level. ❞   ❝ a friend told me that you’re getting rusty. ❞ ❝ i'm trying. please, be patient with me. ❞ ❝ did you eat the last slice of pie? i was saving it for later. ❞ ❝ i craft my own arrows. each one. ❞   ❝ pain means you’re alive! until it doesn’t. ❞   ❝ every time i need a laugh, i look at your search history. ❞   ❝ looks like somebody wants the death penalty. ❞ ❝ i don’t give up that easily. ❞   ❝ anger made you stronger. ❞ ❝ if you screw this up, i’ll kill you myself. ❞ ❝ someone always cares. you must simply seek them out. ❞ ❝ you are spending your life walking a lonely road. ❞ ❝ must you be so relaxed? we depend on you! ❞ ❝ try not to look too relieved. ❞   ❝ it is not unlike you to disappear without warning. ❞ ❝ you were being rude. ❞   ❝ you know, anger management classes might help you with that temper. ❞ ❝ what seems like magic is sometimes science we don’t yet understand. ❞ ❝ yes, let’s discuss morality. and hypocrisy while we’re at it. ❞ ❝ dead weight gets left behind. ❞ ❝ i still feel that final blow from yesterday’s training. ❞ ❝ i have always been bound to my duty. now, i have nothing. ❞ ❝ you care too much about how your family perceives you. ❞ ❝ you know i’m not going to tell you. ❞ ❝ clear head. sharp eyes. ❞ ❝ are you planning to whine the whole time...again? ❞ ❝ it was not easy, living in your shadow. ❞ ❝ do you know what happened to the last man i trusted? ❞ ❝ you’re less handsome when you talk. ❞ ❝ such confidence! let’s hope it’s not unfounded. ❞ ❝ do not speak to me unless you wish to lose an eye. ❞ ❝ everything’s a game to you. ❞ ❝ you stand for everything wrong in this world. ❞ ❝ i’m the best. that’s all you need to know. ❞ ❝ you were truly fearsome in your prime. ❞ ❝ you’ve been distant lately. ❞ ❝ one day, you’ll pay for all the crimes you’ve committed. ❞ ❝ working with you has always made me sick. ❞ ❝ ooh...is the little birdie finally leaving her cage? ❞ ❝ it’s called personal space. ❞   ❝ same saccharine tongue, same empty head. ❞ ❝ i assure you, we are nothing alike. ❞ ❝ something smells foul. is it you? ❞ ❝ quit being so humble. nothing work with being proud of your work. ❞ ❝ all you need for battle is your heart and your head. ❞ ❝ plan to win, or expect to lose. ❞ ❝ how can you live with yourself? so many people have died because of you. ❞ ❝ i’ll be watching your back out there. ❞ ❝ you’re cuter up close. ❞ ❝ i don’t need your pity. ❞ ❝ there’s no easy way to say this: i read your poetry folder. ❞ ❝ yeah, we’re gonna need reinforcements. ❞   ❝ i never miss my mark. ❞   ❝ i gave you a chance, and you wasted it. ❞ ❝ i’ve always liked being the underdog. ❞ ❝ we could have had a beautiful partnership... ❞ ❝ any words of wisdom before the battle starts? ❞ ❝ don’t be so hard on yourself. ❞ ❝ didn’t i say i’d rip your tongue out if i ever saw you again? ❞ ❝ true tacticians do not plan. they act and force others to react. ❞ ❝ i’m not giving up on you. ❞ ❝ your voice, ever sonorous, is like a gentle waterfall upon my ears. ❞ ❝ rage is your weakness. ❞ ❝ just looking for something we might have in common... ❞ ❝ you’ll feel that one tomorrow. ❞   ❝ the path shapes you. the spirits perfect you. ❞   ❝ i’m not relaxed. i just make everything look easy. ❞ ❝ you have an admirable peace about you. ❞ ❝ do you hear yourself? ugh, you’re the worst. ❞ ❝ pondering anything unusual? dangerous? ❞ ❝ flattery will get you the grave. ❞ ❝ ain’t easy, is it? being in charge of killers and madmen. ❞ ❝ there is nothing to that name but pain. ❞ ❝ your weapons are impressive, but you lack the strength to wield them. ❞
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bubbl3gum-h3arts · 2 years
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Obey Me! Brothers Disney Quote Associations
A/n: I'll do a non-disney version after this dw
Warnings:
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Lucifer:
"I know he looks viscous, but he's really kind and gentle." -Belle (Beauty and the Beast) [Lucifer is constantly stressed and this makes him angry often, which, in turn, makes people fear him, but the more time you spend with him the more you realize he really is gentle and loving.]
“A man should never neglect his family for business.” -Walt Disney [Lucifer knows his family is important and while he is always busy, he keeps them in the front of his mind when making decisions]
Mammon:
“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” -Christopher Robin (Winnie the Pooh) [A lot of people tell Mammon he's stupid and scared of this and too weak to do that. Mammon needs to hear this once in a while from someone he loves to remind him that he's perfect just the way he is.]
“I don’t want to survive. I want to live.” -The Captain (Wall-E) [Mammon loves living for the thrill of things. While others scramble to survive in the Devildom, he wants to live his life to the fullest.]
Leviathan:
“If watching is all you’re gonna do, then you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya.” -Laverne (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) [Leviathan spends so much of his time inside watching a screen and staring at things that aren't real, and he misses a lot of the important things that happen beyond that.]
“There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island.” -Walt Disney [Let us not forget Levi does read, and he reads a lot. The types of books he reads may be non-traditional but he still loves them, and finds himself in a whole other world while reading them.]
Satan:
“Life is a journey to be experienced, not a problem to be solved.” -Pooh (Winnie the Pooh) [Satan spends a lot of his time trying to solve problems. Something he needs to learn is that he's going to waste away his own life if he keeps looking at himself and everything else as a problem that he needs to solve.]
“I have been up against tough competition all my life. I wouldn’t know how to get along without it.” -Walt Disney [Satan has literally always been compared to Lucifer and expected to be as good and as qualified as him. It happens so often that now constantly bettering himself is basically how he lives.]
Asmodeus:
“When will my reflection show who I am inside?” -Mulan (Mulan) [Asmodeus's sin is lust and this sort of clouds him over. he starts to believe that lust is the only thing there is to him, but it isn't. He's beautiful on the inside too and he barely ever sees that.]
“The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.” -Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean) [Hear me out, I know it seems weird. Asmodeus always seems to bounce back. No matter what happens he picks himself up. I's not that things haven't hurt him, because they have. But he knows moping around isn't god for him and will get him nowhere, so instead he picks himself up and fixes whatever he needs to.]
Beelzebub:
“A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart.” -Hercules (Hercules) [I see this as being something you've had to say to him. Beel always worries about not being good enough in some way for you, and you say this to reassure him.]
“Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind.” -Stitch (Lilo and Stitch) [Beel has always had a really strong sense of family and the bond that comes with it. He knows that no matter what happens, family sticks together. And that is something he will always fight for.]
Belphegor:
“Venture outside your comfort zone. The rewards are worth it.” -Rapunzel (Tangled) [Belphie kind of has this "if i don't take risks i won't get hurt" kind of vibe going on. And by doing this he's missing things that could have ended up being good for him.]
“My dream wouldn’t be complete without you in it.” -Tiana (The Princess and the Frog) [Belphie is a lover, and he makes sure you know it. I feel like this is something he'd say when you ask him about what he dreams of when he sleeps.]
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burnin0akleaves · 1 year
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maddie for character impression (get well soon king)
Going to power through this ilness just because you told me to now, I can't not do it. (Thank you)
First impression: Again, hazy memories, but pretty sure I was annoyed by her at first. I didn't hate her, but the scene with Jenny? Yeaah I was with Will on that one.
I warmed up to her pretty quickly after that, and seeing that she was actually deeply insecure and felt the need to prove herself won me over. I put myself in her shoes the whole book, and Maddie ended up being braver than I would be every single time. I remember being EXTREMELY stressed at the part where Will has to stay back and Maddie has to get the kids to safety alone, because I just thought about how horrifying it would be to have that much responsibility on my shoulders and to be forced to make decisions on my own without Will's guidance.
Proud to say that it has been quite a few years since then and that I would be able to handle a situation like that better now, but middle grade Howls was extremely impressed by Maddie.
Impression now: I love her! Maddie has so much depth to her and I think she is a great character. Has her mother's spirit, her father's wiseness and her uncle's willpower. Like, think about it for a second, the girl is literally surrounded by all the legends of Araluen. You bet your ass she will grow up to have the best parts of all of them.
Favourite Moment: Already talked about the part where she has to take charge in book twelve and how that had a big effect on me, but I also need to talk about the scene where she is forced to kill for the first time. I love that she didn't cower away in fear or kill in cold blood. She was faced with an extremely scary situation for a child, a man breaking into your room in the middle of the night to threaten you into silence, but she managed to control her fear and defend herself. The scene where Will comforts her and tells her how brave she was is extremely sweet, I'm glad that she got to be comforted like that.
Also the entirety of the Red Fox Clan duology? Her taking complete control of the situation in Escape From Falaise and dueling that one knight alone? VERY badass. I really hope her story continues.
Idea for a story: I want Araluen, and maybe the whole world, to face another crisis. Maybe something supernatural and world-ending. It starts from when Maddie is a ranger and at some point in the story she has to take charge of the entire kingdom as queen as well. She has her family to support her obviously, but none of them are in their prime anymore. At the end, she has to face the enemy herself, alone. I have bits and pieces of scenes floating around in my brain for this but nowhere near a full story, so thats all you're getting.
Unpopular opinion: People that hate Maddie but love Horace and Cassandra are complete hypocrites. She has great character development, and is a genuinely lovable character. Her growth isn't any less realistic than her parents, some people just hate TRR and pick it apart to find every single thing to complain about.
Favorite relationship: Will and Maddie. I love watching the royal family be together as well, but the uncle/niece relationship has a special place in my heart.
And when it comes to romantic stuff, I'm glad Maddie doesn't have a love interest forced into the plotline. Leaves room for queer headcanons and just... lets the girl be herself. You don't need to be in a relationship with someone. I do wish she got to make more friends, but I also understand why she really wouldn't get to. Being the princess and Will Treaty's apprentice at the same time doesn't really let you relax and socialise. I'm glad she has Ingrid at least, and I hope we'll get to see more of her at some point.
Favorite headcanon: Cassandra doesn't get to use her sling anymore as queen, but she is too sentimental to throw it away. When it becomes obvious that she won't get to use it again, she gives it to Maddie. The sling is very old and Maddie would never replace the weapon she is used to, let alone use her mother's sling that went through so much, but she holds on to it.
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mishafletcher · 4 years
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Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)
So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.
First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 
Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.
The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.
This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 
You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.
Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.
There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?
Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.
There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 
Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.
Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.
Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.
I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.
In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.
Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 
Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.
Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.
Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.
This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.
Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.
The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 
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scaramoucheslove · 3 years
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PLEASE expand more on that Zhongli brat tamer thing you posted 🥺
Brat Tamer! Zhongli x Brat!Reader (GN)
Listen to me
What to expect: Spanking, Size kink?(a bit), Choking, Teasing in public, Getting called “whore” once I swear, Zhongli as ur god, fingering? lmk if I missed anything!
A/N: AAA BRAT TAMER ZHONGLI NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION </33
(also im so sorry if this is shit even tho i spent so much time writing it?? hurr i apologize and i tried to make it as gn as possible! <33)
Zhongli loves an obedient sub that listens to him and obey his rules. You, were the perfect little baby for him. You were his obedient, perfect little baby. Sure, you’ve been accidentally bad a couple times here and there. But imagine if someday, you were curious enough to see what’s it like to test his limit. So, when you were acting out of the ordinary, of course he’d be suspicious.
It all started when you both woke up. He’d always wake up first, usually drinking tea at the dinner table and you’d always greet him. But today, you felt a little braver than usual and decided to just ignore him and went ahead to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He raised his brow, but thought nothing much of it. You put your plate on the table and played with your phone while eating your food.
Zhongli cleared his throat, causing you to look at him with a confused look on your face. “Good morning” he said with a smile, a fake one if I may add. You ignored him and continued to play your phone and eat your food. You could see his smile fade away in the corner of your eye. “I expect a response, no?” you looked at him, and his expression seems blank. “Uh, morning?” you answered blankly before continuing to ignore him. He sighs in defeat, standing up to prepare a hot shower to cool him off.
Zhongli said he’ll be meeting up with a few people for a while, and of course you being you, decided to tag along. You were confused on what to wear—until you remembered your little plan to push his buttons. You smirked at yourself before thinking. You had an idea. You put on the most revealing clothes you’ve ever worn out in public just to mess with him. Once you were done getting ready, he doesn’t say a single word. His gaze was enough to make a person tremble, thus why you were averting his eyes the whole time. He simply grabs your hands and wrapped it around his and said nothing more than a simple “Let’s go.”
You finally arrived at the Teahouse after quite some time. The moment you two opened the door, all eyes were on you. You looked absolutely stunning. Your looks may even be enough to tempt a god. Zhongli clearly tried to ignore the situation and dragged you to the back and seated you both at the corner of the Teahouse.
The meeting overall was boring. Although it was pretty boring, you had to admit that hearing people talking about Morax and acting as if they know more than Morax himself was kind of funny. You yawned in boredom and continued to look around before your eyes landed to your boyfriend’s figure that was sitting right beside you. His eyes that are completely focused, the way he talks, and the way his tall figure is sitting straight, asserting dominance through small, simple things. You couldn’t help but feel excited just by looking at him. Your excitement caused you to land your hand on your boyfriend’s thighs as he was listening to some people talking and discussing about the geo archon. He looked at you, confused and you gave him a small, sweet innocent smile, in which he returned.
But what he didn’t expect was for your hand to go higher and higher, until he realized that your hand was basically almost touching his dick. Before you could do anything further, he slapped your hand away and came closer to your ear to whisper, “Behave.” That action alone caused you to shiver and it tempted you even more. Biting your lower lip, you decided to wait for the right moment. After everyone was done talking and discussing, they asked for Zhongli’s opinion. And just right before he gets the chance to talk, you took the chance and managed to place your hand between his pants without raising any suspicions. He flinched slightly, earning worried looks from other people and workers. “My apologies, I thought I saw something.” He said as he kept his composure. And surprisingly enough, they believed him. Thank god you were seated in the corner so that no one could see what was actually happening between the two of you. You palmed him through his pants slowly as he explained about his opinion. You could hear the slight shake on his voice and clearing his throat way more than he normally does, even though he looked completely focused and well composed. “Mr. Zhongli? Are you feeling alright?” someone said in which he responded with a slight nod, and a pinch to your thighs as a warning. You gasped quietly in surprise and stopped your ministrations before looking at him. His stare was menacing, daring you to make another move. In which you responded by looking the other way and pouting as you rest your hands that was palming him a few seconds ago on the table.
The trip back home was silent. You didn’t dare utter a word, not after all that. You looked fine and chill on the outside, But inside? You were trembling. Was it really a good idea to make your god angry? Is it even worth it? Your thoughts were racing as you asked yourself. But there was no turning back.
You walked inside the house slowly, trying to keep calm and collected. You knew you were in deep trouble the moment he shuts the door with a slam. You saw a glimpse of his beautiful, black hair with a gradient, glowing, neon orange color near the ends of his hair, which usually occurred where he’s focused like in battles, or if he’s really pissed. You didn’t really want to test him any further, so you just decided to follow his next commands and obey him. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, voice demanding for an answer. You turned to him, looking to the ground instead while fiddling your hands. He clicked his tongue and forcefully held your chin so you were met with his amber colored eyes. “Talk” He demanded. You were unable to form coherent words and ended up stuttering on your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and practically dragged you into the bedroom.
He lets you go once you’ve both reached your shared bedroom. You watched as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, looking down and letting out a sigh. The moment his eyes met yours, you immediately looked down, not prepared for his eyes to pierce through you so sudden.
“Strip.” He said lowly. Calmly. But you knew him. It’s always the calm before the storm. You stood there, silently, not moving in the slightest. You could feel the tension in the room. He was disappointed. Of course he was! He had all the reasons to be. He walked towards you slowly, observing the outfit you wore. One of his gloved hand stroking it smoothly as his other hand gripped your jaw gently and made you look into his eyes. “Tsk, I have given you such a simple task. But I know you humans simply cannot do anything yourselves.” He practically spat as he tore your clothes off with both hands. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly opened and you froze due to shock as he chuckled at your reaction.
His two hands grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you onto the bed roughly, a contrast to his gentle grip on your jaw earlier. You continued to freeze in your place and he took the chance to pin both your hands with one of his, as his big and strong body kept your smaller one caged. You tried to get out of his grip. But it was no use. No matter how much you try, he will always overpower you.
“Tell me, love. Were you being a brat on purpose?” He asked you with a teasing tone on his voice. You closed your eyes and gave up, exhaling the breath you didn't notice you've been holding while nodding your head slowly in shame and embarrassment. He chuckled lowly as he lets both of your hand go and flipped you over. You yelped in surprise as he positioned himself so that your stomach was on his lap and he places his hand to rub gently on your ass.
You cried out, “Zhongli please I’m sorry-“ “Now, now. It’ll hurt a bit. But you mortals really need to be taught a lesson to know their place.” He says as one of his hand stroked your hair and the other continued to move gentle motions on your ass. “Zhongli pleas-“ Smack. A loud noise echoed across the room as you jolted forward and you felt your eyes beginning to water. “Can you just listen to me, brat?” his voice sounded clearly annoyed. The room was quiet for a while, until he broke the silence. “Stay silent and take it like the good pet I know you are.”
The sound of your cries and sniffles could be heard in the rather silent room. You were sobbing, hands starting to go numb as you gripped them onto the bedsheets, your ass sore and red from all the painful and harsh smacks Zhongli has delivered. You were trembling. It felt like hours since he started and it never seemed to end. He eventually stopped and started caressing the spots he had abused minutes before. “I’m sorry my love, but If I don’t do this then… you’ll never learn from your mistakes.” He explained. You were still sobbing, but a part of you was relieved that it was over.
He got you off his lap and laid you down carefully onto the bed as you finally closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. That is until you feel a hand tracing your back and onto your underwear. You felt him come closer as he whispered in your ear “Seems like someone got excited. Well, it isn’t really a punishment if you enjoyed it. Don’t you agree?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your ear.
He flipped you over, your back now facing the bed. You hissed slightly at the sting because your ass still hurts from his ministrations. He gently spread both of your legs apart as he sat himself in between your now-parted thighs and pulled your underwear down, in which he threw across the room. You tried to cover yourself up but again, it was no use. You were now exposed for him and his eyes to devour. “But I’ll have to admit, seeing you in that revealing outfit where everyone can see really makes me…” he paused as he searched for the right word before continuing. “Jealous.” You prayed to the archons to make it out alive before answering him. “Oh? M-maybe you’re just mad they can probably fuck me better than you.” You’ve done it. You took back what you said about obeying him, but at the wrong time. “Getting brave now, are we? How ironic for someone who cried over a punishment moments ago.” he bitterly chuckles. “Well then, we’ll just have to see how hard I’ll break you tonight.”
He took off his gloves and immediately gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, combining it with the drool he managed to get at the corners of your mouth. He wastes no time as he inserts one finger into your needy hole. You gasped and held onto the bedsheets once more, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. God, his fingers were long. You can feel him filling you up as he kept pistoning one finger in and out of you. But then you started to whine for more. For him to fill you up more. “Humans are indeed greedy, but you’re my greedy little human, aren’t you whore?” you scrambled over your words before he used his free hand to wrap it around your throat and tightening his hold around it. “Answer.” He stopped moving completely and you whined as you finally managed to answer. “Y-yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes, my lord.”
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years
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yeah right | t. oikawa 
➳  tags ;; angst, hurt/comfort, getting together, drunken confessions, gn!reader
➳  wc ;; 1k
➳  a/n ;; he makes me very sad. also don’t write him a lot so if this sucks, sorry lol 
➳ plot ;; oikawa tooru doesn’t regret leaving japan. but he does miss you, more often than not. 
»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««
“I met someone,” 
Your feet dangle over the highway as cars pass by you - quick as moving stars. They should really repair this little walk-way, the trail above it. This town is so small and this broken railing and fence has been here for almost a decade. It gets more rusty as the years pass. Someone’s gonna get tetanus. 
He breathes a short breath, like a gasp. He leans on his palms, back onto the road as he stares up at the night sky. This is dangerous and he shouldn’t have brought you out here but the nostalgia is hitting just right. 
You don’t turn your head to look at him. With a small nod and a hundred things to say, you stare down at the empty street. 
“Really?,” 
He feels his stomach drop. Disappointment is an even more bitter spirit on his tongue. He closes his eyes again. The whole world is asleep and the two of you are alone, 50 feet off the ground. 
Somehow, it aches. It still aches, all these years later. He gives you a small laugh - a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. He shifts, only a few feet away from falling - he gets on his side and drops your head on your lap. 
He looks up at you or at the stars or maybe neither. Maybe both, all at once. With a dizzy smile, he nods. 
“Really,” 
It’s only silent briefly. Your fingers are tender as they brush against his skin - the heat in his chest spreading over his skin like flame. You brush your knuckles beneath his eyes, press on his lips, touch his lashes. It is all too intimate but you do it easily, without stopping. 
Nothing changes in the same way the world keeps spinning. He wonders how many mountains he will have to move for all of this to come to a halt.
You look at him and he looks at you. His heart runs and runs and runs and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. Doesn’t know how to look away. 
“D’you like them? Are they nice?” 
He thinks of the vague silhouette of the person he’s entertaining. They’re charming and nice - they work an office job and they mesh well. Their humor matches his. Smart, attractive, kind - perfect on paper. 
He shrugs a little. 
“They’re alright,” he replies. You laugh and he’s warm again, but he knows he’s sobering up. All this sunlight in his skin, on his tongue like a vice - all of it is you. Knowing this makes him swallow. 
“Just alright?” you ask, your hand on his throat - soft and gentle as you smooth down his chest and land right on his stomach. His breath hitches. 
He smiles at you, soft. 
“Just alright,” 
Oikawa Tooru doesn’t regret his decision to leave Japan. In every interview, every article, every word that’s left his mouth about leaving, he regards Argentina with the same love. His arms open to the culture and home that accepted him as he was. Oikawa Tooru, the beloved Japanese player with good Spanish pronunciation and fluffy brown hair. Oikawa Tooru the strong, the brave, the beloved. There’s probably nothing in the world he would trade for it. 
He loves Argentina - the country a hallmark to the boy who made it. He made it. And even now, he doesn’t regret it. He’ll never, ever regret it. 
But he does regret how he left you. All these loose ends that only fray every time he leaves and find you again. Oikawa Tooru doesn’t remember where loving you starts and where he ends. 
He tells himself it’s the memories - like the time in 8th grade you made him a beaded bracelet for an important game. Or the time you stayed behind with him and Iwaizumi to clean the gym, only to take shelter in a shed from the rain. He tells himself it was because of that time in highschool where you made him a practice bento because you liked the captain from Karasuno 
He tells himself it’s the memory of your face, your furrowed brow and concerned heart - asking him if it was “good enough to give,”. He tells himself he is only remembering a person who doesn’t exist and that the next time he sees you, he won’t feel the same. He wont feel this lovesickness that burrows it’s way in his sternum and spreads like dust in the air. 
Next time, next time, next time - whenever that is, his heart will have forgotten the shadow of your lashes. It will not remember the way his sister braided your hair in his living room when he was 17. It will not remember love, when he sees you next, he will forget. 
That’s what he tells himself. That he doesn’t love you anymore, he just misses your comfort and your hands.
But now, he’s too sober to deny that you look like heaven if god gave it a body. 
Now, he’s not sure he can deny he loves you. He’s not sure he can forget that only to remember again painfully that he still loves you so much. And every part of him aches. 
Some lessons you have to learn at least one hundred times. You must be his. 
“Well,” you pause, hand tapping at his stomach like it belongs there. Other hand threading through his hairs “.. what’s wrong with them?” 
“Wrong?” 
You nod, staring down at him. He wishes he was drunk enough to look at you head on. He winces. 
“Yeah like.. why’re they just alright?” 
Oikawa pauses and he thinks, that maybe, there is still a way to make a bracelet with frayed string. He sits up from you and your eyes widen. And you watch him as he watches the world below him. 
And maybe he’s a little bit braver, or maybe he’s just drunk enough. 
“They’re not you,” ― he tells you, slow. Your eyes widen and you flush. He smiles, and laughs a little harder ― “They’re not.. you,” 
It’s quiet again and cars path and the world spins. 
And Oikawa Tooru decides it - he doesn’t want to live through anymore regrets. You place your hand over his, too flustered to reply But you squeeze it, and look away - so earnest and brave. 
He laughs at you and squeezes your hand. And the world stops. For just one moment. 
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475 notes · View notes
wri0thesley · 3 years
Text
hi! please do not talk to me! i am just as disappointed in myself as you are!
arrangement - naoya x fem!reader (3.7k)
warnings: naoya is just an asshole lmao, misogyny, arranged marriage mentions, degradation, humiliation, spitting, unhealthy ‘relationship’. afab reader, fem pronouns
despite your clan elders’ best intentions, you are clearly not a good match for someone as well placed in the world as naoya. still. that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with you. 
You should have known that it was a fruitless endeavour.
No matter how nicely your hair might be set and your clothes might be chosen, how intricately and carefully your makeup applied – how pretty your manners might be . . . This was never going to go anywhere. Oh, your elders might have thought this was a good idea, and sure it would be – if it were possible. If your clan wasn’t hanging on by the skin of its teeth already. If you’d been blessed – if that was the right way to put it – with more cursed energy than you had been.
But you were not. It had been clear to you the moment you had been – cordially, politely – introduced to him. You hadn’t looked him in the eye – you’d been briefed on what he was like enough to know that – but you’d still sensed the flickering of his gaze over your form. You’d still seen the curve of his mouth into a cruel sneer.
“What a pity,” he’d said, tone not belying an ounce of the pity he mentioned. “I’m far too busy for acts of charity.”
You should have left it at that. You should have accepted it was not to be and went back to your own clan with your tail between your legs, just another failure – or perhaps, you should have looked up into his eyes and spat at him and insisted you were worth more than that. If you had been braver, if you had talked back--
But you do not. Inside, you are meek and quiet. You are cowed by what you know is the power that is at his fingertips, not just physically but also in the sheer luck of having been born as he was born. You duck your head. You feel your cheeks warm. Something about the sneer on his face, the mocking tone . . . sends a curl of heat right to the centre of your belly that you desperately try to ignore.
Tripping over your words, you apologise to him.
For wasting his time.
And it’s that which sets these particular events in motion.
Naoya sees how easily you bend under just his words and the weight of his gaze on you – and though, of course, you are not fit to be his wife the way that your clan elders clearly wanted you to be . . . he likes the idea of your eyes, downturned on the floor. He likes the idea of you on your knees before him. He likes the idea of being able to throw you around, and you, deferential as you take it.
No, even though you would walk three steps behind him and be behest to his whims, you lack the impressive lineage and the splendour of a great union that Naoya is looking for in a wife. But that does not mean, he thinks, as he watches you leave, his eyes following the suggestive curve of your body beneath the layers of fabric, that he cannot have a little fun with you first.
You come to his rooms without an ounce of hesitation. You must know, surely – after the way he treated you at your introduction – that he has no pure intentions. Certainly, the servants milling about his estate know as you’re shown to where he wants you.
Good. Your eager acquiescence just cements the fact to him that he has made the right decision; you will be weak-willed and desperate to please, and though he has no intentions of honour when it comes to what he’s going to do to you, he knows you will do it anyway.
“You came,” he says to you, as you stand across the room, where he’s lounging, entirely at ease, against the pillows on his bed. Your entire body fizzes. You know you should not be here.
(There is something about him that your body cannot deny.)
“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a whore.” You flinch at the word, though that strange curl of heat returns to your middle. You fight it off as best you can. He sees how you swallow, the way you respond to the name – and he is smirking again, rising from the pillows, walking over to you with all of the grace of a predator. His fingertips reach out, tracing the line of your chin (your skin is pleasingly soft beneath them). “That’s what you are, right? Your clan elders sent you here to see if that’s what you’d be for me.”
He tips up your face. It’s the first time that your eyes have been anywhere near his, and he’s delighted to see the flair of panic and confusion in your gaze. Cute.
“That’s not—” You say, your voice very dry. You struggle with the words, knowing despite yourself that part of him must be right – if you were not, surely it wouldn’t have been as simple as him summoning you and you going there--
“You can’t honestly think you’d have made me a wife, hmm?” He lowers his head, too close to you – your entire body feels like it’s thrumming with energy, buzzing with unrestrained tension. “You’re pathetic.” The word is practically a purr, and your body responds in kind – Naoya, seeing how your eyes cloud over, how you have to stop yourself biting your lip, is delighted.
“I-I’m sorry,” you say, desperate, miserable. You don’t understand why your thighs feel slick and your legs feel shaky, or why your head seems to have clouded over with thoughts that refuse to take proper shape.
“Aww.” His thumb slides across your lip – and you find yourself opening your mouth without meaning to, letting him slide the tip of his thumb in and press down on your tongue. “That’s right. You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”
You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could, anyway – not with how dry your throat feels. Naoya clicks his tongue.
“Suck it, then,” he tells you, with the air of an impatient man giving orders to a puppy dog. You suppose that’s what you are, really – because you do close your lips, and you do lathe your tongue across the pad of his thumb. He’s still smirking at you, damnably attractive if only for the air of self-assured cockiness. “You’ll want to get used to having something in your mouth.”
His other hand comes up and pushes the kimono you’re wearing (too formal of a kind, really – but your clan elders had wanted to show deference to the Zenins, and they had hoped that perhaps you would be meeting your future husband, and everybody knew that Naoya would prefer a traditional young bride--) to one side, exposing too much of your collarbone and chest.
“Not bad,” he tells you. “Not good enough for me, of course but . . . you’ll do for this.”
You hate that you know what ‘this’ is. You hate that you have no protest to give as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and turns his back on you.
“Take them off,” he tells you. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all day. Women can be so slow.”
Your hands are shaking as you go to untie your obi. Your self-preservation instinct is telling you to run. Naoya stops where he is and turns his head, his lips still tilted as he sees you’re doing as he asked. Oh, but you’re fun – he feels like a cat playing with a mouse.
“Hurry. Up.” It’s a snap, all pretence – he’s rather enjoying the shaking and the trembling. He can’t help but look at you hungrily as the fabric pools about your ankles in your clumsy undressing. “Before I change my mind, and send you back out into the estate like that.”
Why are you still doing what he asks? You finish undressing and shiver in the cool air, standing there, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell you to do next.
He reaches the bed and turns, sitting on it. He’s entirely casual about the whole thing, his elbows resting on his knees as he steeples his hands together and just looks at you. You burn under his gaze.
“Yes,” he repeats. “You’ll do. Come here--”
You take a step forward, only to stop as he holds up his hand. He takes the patient tone of a man talking to an animal once more.
“Not like that. Think about it, come on. Your head is above mine. That’s not very respectful of you, is it?”
He swathes the words in velvet, making them sound like a question – but you can hear the steel inside of them. The order. He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you’re sinking onto your knees with your throat dry. Your thighs press together, slick friction making you shiver as you crawl towards Naoya. He tips his head to one side and smiles coldly as if his smile is a reward.
(He watches the way your ass moves as you crawl. He can hear your laboured breathing in the quiet room. In the low glint of the light, he can see the hint of wetness between your thighs.)
You’re so eager to please, even knowing that Naoya is going to use you and discard you. Just as you should be. You feel lucky he’s giving you the briefest time of day.
“Stop,” he says, and you jump to his command as if it’s law. Perfect. He takes a handful of your hair and drags it, pulling you forward so that your face is close to the stiffness that you probably can’t tell he’s sporting through the loose fit of his hakama. He jerks your face so that it rubs against his thigh through the fabric. “Well?”
The bob of your throat as you swallow. You look up at him with your eyes filled with confusion.
“As much as the position suits you,” he says, tone clipped, “are you so stupid you don’t know what I want you to do?”
Oh. Oh.
You are still on your hands and knees. You go to bring one of your hands towards the ties and are stopped with a ‘tch’ of impatience, Naoya kicking at it and trapping it beneath his foot on the floor, with little care about how you wince. He doesn’t hold back his strength.
“You’re going to touch me with that after it’s been all over the filthy floor?” He asks, arching one thin eyebrow. “I don’t think so. If you’re going to be as gormless as an animal, you may as well act like one. Your cheek.”
Heat floods your cheeks once more as you realise what he wants. By now, the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making you wet has become all encompassing, not at all helped by the friction of your thighs or the way that Naoya is talking down to you. You should not be turned on by it. You should be disgusted by him, glad he doesn’t want you as a wife--
So why do you let out a soft whimper as you lean your cheek forward like a docile animal. It presses against something hot and hard, obvious even through the fabric. You don’t let yourself look at him, embarrassed by how easily you let him tell you what to do – if you were looking, perhaps you’d have seen the brief way his teeth dug into bottom lip, seen the softest exhale of his breath. (It’s better you didn’t. He does not like to show weakness.)
He lets you nuzzle against his cock for a few moments, enjoying the sight of you on your knees, your head bowed – but it is not enough for him. Not when he knows you’ll let him do whatever you want.
The hand still in your hair drags you back unfeelingly, letting go of you on the back swing. You almost overbalance – but you have been well-trained in the art of grace. That would have been something he’d have looked for in a wife, if you had been better placed.
Almost a pity, really.
“I’d ask you to undo it,” he says, as he goes to untie his own complicated knots. “But you’re shaking. Are you that eager to suck my cock? Slut.”
He’s right, you are and you are and you are--
There. There’s no going back for you now, as Naoya lets the hakama drop and then rests back on his hands, unconcerned, as if this kind of thing happens for him every day. Hell, for him, maybe it does – surely you’re not the first poor young woman who has been sent by people more powerful than her to try and please the Zenin clan. For some reason, the thought that you’re not the first, that you’re not special, makes another ricochet of heat twist low between your thighs.
“Well?” He asks, mockingly. “It’s not going to suck itself.”
You’re shaking as you approach it, opening your mouth.
“Not too much teeth, now,” he says lightly. “You don’t want to see me get angry.”
(Maybe you do? But you want to please him just as much, so you open your mouth wider, try and let your lips relax--)
He lets out a sigh as your mouth engulfs the head. He tastes salty and musky – you do not have anything to compare it to, but it’s not exactly unpleasant. You experimentally lick across the head of his cock, where the slit is leaking pre-come – and for that, you win a fluid hiss of pleasure. The idea that you’re pleasing him makes you squeeze your thighs together in search of stimulation and friction, a dull jolt of pleasant warmth spreading through your sex. Oh, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life.
“More of your tongue,” he says to you, and you do your level best to accommodate – your tongue lapping at the veins of his shaft, travelling along the underside. Your jaw feels stretched wide, and you know you are drooling a little. You shift on your knees without being asked to, taking him further down your throat – you sense a twitch in his cock, the slight relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the idea that he is enjoying what you’re doing.
Pleasing Naoya suddenly seems the most important thing in the world to you – and certainly it feels the most important thing in the world to that emptiness inside you that you feel sure would be filled perfectly by Naoya’s cock. You take him further and further. You hum low in the back of your throat and Naoya’s fist on the bed flexes – you delight in it.
Every time you do something that makes his body respond in even the smallest of ways, you feel a full body thrill run through you that starts in your cheeks and makes it’s way to the junction between your legs, soaking you, making you vibrate and twitch with need. You have never felt so hungry for anything as you do the idea of Naoya touching you--
The crown of his cock bumps against the back of your throat, making you gurgle wetly – tears springing to your eyes at just how much of him is stuffed in your mouth. It’s this that finally spurs Naoya himself to action, once more returning to grabbing at your hair.
His hips begin to piston, thrusting his cock in and out.
“You’re . . .” He breathes, in between great pumps of his hips. “Almost good at that.”
(It’s the closest he’s come to praise so far and the sound of his voice, thick with hunger and lust, is locked away inside some secret part of your mind – you know you will not be able to touch yourself without his voice, the hitch of his groans, coming back to you in a cadence finer than any music you’ve ever heard).
He uses your mouth like he’d use his own fist, pumping fast and hard, his cock kissing the back of your throat with every glide. His breath begins to get shorter, and as you feel the flesh of the shaft twitch beneath your tongue, pulsating, you ready yourself for the salty rush of his release coating your mouth. You’ll swallow everything he gives you, maybe he will call you a good girl for your troubles--
He doesn’t. The hand wrapped around your hair (so neatly arranged, when you’d arrived at the estate – now, a mass of tangles, nothing more than a handle for Naoya to grab onto) jerks.
You cough at the sudden tug. You know he was close, you felt it – so why had he pulled you off of him? The noise that escapes you is half wounded-animal, half confusion – Naoya is sneering down at you, his hand around the base of his cock.
“Open your mouth,” he tells you – and you obey. You want him to come in your mouth! You want to be good for him, you want to swallow down every drop. “Do you really think you deserve to taste my seed? When you’re so . . . inferior, in every way? So . . . inadequate?”
“Please,” you whimper, through the haze of neediness and the ache in your jaw. “Please, I want to, I’ll be good--”
“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You really are pathetic.” You nod, frantically – if you agree with him, maybe he’ll do something about this all, you’re too far gone to have anything close to rational thought. He laughs at you, a sound like a bark – and then, he’s spitting directly onto your mouth, the mess landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.”
Disgusting, you’re disgusting, why isn’t the way he’s acting doing a thing to dampen your desire? You swallow.
The curl of his lip is unfairly attractive. You think he’ll pull you even closer to him, make you open your mouth again and come directly down your throat until you’re coughing all over the floor – but he doesn’t. He moves his hand, pumping his cock – and then, he’s coming, his shaft twitching in his own grip--
And his come spurting across your face, painting your cheeks. You close one of your eyes to stop it getting in there, but it’s a feeble task – you feel it on your face, dripping down your nose, you know some of it has gotten into your hair. Through the one eye still open, you see Naoya’s smug face.
“Did you really think I’d come in your mouth?” He asks, all cruelty. “You don’t deserve to have my seed inside you. In fact . . . Hmm.” He relaxes, looking at you where you’re a mess on the floor. Your kimono and all the ephemera of what you were wearing lies in a discarded pile across the room where you’d taken them off. “You can put on your clothes, I suppose. But . . . don’t clean yourself up. Not even with your sleeve. You should be proud a nothing like you gets to wear it.”
He flaps his hand at you, clearly dismissing you.
“I—I--”
Your voice sounds cracked and strained and small in the room. Pathetic. Just like you. But more pathetic is the heat that seems to cling to every inch of your skin that you know will not go away until you’re touched.
“You . . . you . . . you what?” He mocks you. Your face, all heat, your big blown out eyes darkened by lust . . . He narrows his eyes and smiles, but it’s a smile that’s utterly mirthless, cold as dawn frost. “I’m not going to lower myself to touching you.”
(You think you were expecting it; but still, your sex clenches around emptiness, practically pulsating as he derides you again. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment.)
You bow your head. You know, if you stand up, Naoya will say something about your head being above his again – so you stay on your knees, crawling towards the pile of clothes. Naoya is drawn once more to the way the slick is dripping down your thighs, the inviting slit of your sex--
“You’re so wet I can see it from here,” he jeers. “Disgusting. You really are a slut, huh?”
Your fingers fumble with the fine fabrics. If your clan elders knew how you had left your formalwear here, on the floor of his room--
You tie the knots. You cannot do anything about the mess on your face, drying too quickly, sticky and uncomfortable – but part of you wants to wear it like a badge of honour.
You finally let yourself stand up, stopped only by a mocking little sing-song of your name, the mocking inflection of the cute honorific at the end that he shouldn’t be using for you--
You turn to him for the final time, too embarrassed, too wet, too hot and aching to meet his eyes. You concentrate on his mouth instead (you know that mouth will haunt your daydreams, blanket quiet night-times when your hands delve between your legs and you have to bite your lip to stifle your sounds.)
“Perhaps,” he says, with the air of a man bestowing a great honour, “perhaps your clan elders need not know I’ve rejected you yet.” A brief flare of hope in your chest, that he sees and takes a fierce, primal kind of pleasure in snuffing out. “Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve no intention of lowering myself to marrying you. But . . .”
That grin, barbaric, cruel, cold, heartless.
“It’s only proper for a man of my stature to have a mistress,” he tells you. The idea should disgust you. Why doesn’t it? You need to find a quiet place to hide in the Zenin estate, where you will not be interrupted – where you can press your fingers inside of yourself and imagine they are his. He takes great pleasure in adding; “And I like a woman who knows her place.”
One more flap of his hand – this time, a final dismissal.
“I’ll see you again,” he says, as you slip out of the door--
It sounds like a threat.
462 notes · View notes
minniepetals · 4 years
Text
nightlight
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— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader
— word count: 7.7k
— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort
— rec music: finding hope - nightlight
Starlight star bright.
Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.
A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours. 
You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.
Your father doesn't love you.
If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.
The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.
Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.
Beautiful even.
Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.
That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.
Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.
Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.
"Why do you always stay awake?"
You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.
Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.
"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"
He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.
He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.
Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.
"Then sleep."
As if it is easy.
As if it had always been easy.
"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.
You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?
You wonder if your mother is alright.
But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.
"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.
"I'm sorry."
Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"
"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."
"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."
"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."
"That should be his words, baby, not yours."
You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.
.
.
"You know how to treat wounds?"
Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.
"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."
He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"
"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."
"You're his daughter."
You don't reply, just keeping quiet.
But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.
You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.
He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.
But it looks like that isn't the likely story.
He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.
You're not a pawn anymore at this point.
But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.
.
.
The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.
It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.
Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.
Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.
"Why don't you ever complain?"
You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.
Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.
"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"
You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.
"It's fake," you whisper.
His brows crease.
"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."
"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."
"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."
"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."
You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.
You're afraid to ask. .
.
The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.
Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.
"A-hem."
Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.
The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"
"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.
"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.
"It...interests me."
"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"
"...Hades and Persephone, sir."
Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.
"What about that story interests you?"
"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."
"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."
"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."
He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.
You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.
Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.
"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."
Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."
Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.
.
.
A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.
You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.
Are they not afraid of you escaping?
Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.
They'll hunt your father down.
He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.
You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.
Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.
Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.
Another walks up to you and another.
You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.
"How about we ditch this party?"
Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.
"You know, you look quite familiar."
You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.
But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.
Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."
But he only laughs.
They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.
But it is and you hate it.
Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.
"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.
You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.
Maybe it's because you know him.
A little.
When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."
He scoffs. "For what?"
You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"
It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."
You look over at where he beckons.
A hallway.
"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.
"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.
When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.
The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.
It's hard but you keep running.
Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.
You have to run.
Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.
Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.
Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.
"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.
You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.
Because the youngest only shrugs.
"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."
"Then why'd she come with you?"
"She's just a maid."
The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"
"You're sick for an old man."
He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.
His dirty, disgusting tongue.
It breaks you.
Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.
Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.
You can't do this.
You're still pure.
You can't...you can't.
"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."
Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."
He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"
But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.
Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.
His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.
You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.
"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."
He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.
A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.
Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.
When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.
He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.
How can he ever be satisfied?
His family is gone, never to return to his side.
A lost man. A lost child.
You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"
"Get away from me, you whore!"
You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"
Yet Jungkook doesn't care.
"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."
He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"
He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"I'm not-"
"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."
You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.
You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.
And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.
What a lovely pair of hands.
So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."
"Jungkook-!"
The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.
Jungkook's crying.
Holding you.
He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.
He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.
And now you.
You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.
Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.
.
.
Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.
So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.
Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."
What a cute little thing.
"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."
Sir.
He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."
You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."
"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."
You aren't worried about that.
For some reason.
But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.
But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.
He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.
He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.
So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.
You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.
It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.
You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.
You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.
He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.
"Um..-"
He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.
Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.
"...hi," you squeak.
Taehyung laughs. "Hi."
"It's um...cold."
"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."
"Do you often swim at night?"
He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."
"Won't you get a cold?"
"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."
"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."
The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"
You blink. "You want me to?"
"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."
You bite your lower lip. "Right."
"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."
You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."
"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."
It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.
The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.
.
.
"Hey, you okay?"
You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.
"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.
"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."
"I'm fine," you insist.
But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."
What a cute revelation.
"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"
And if you do, what will he do?
"Or do you need a nightlight?"
"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."
"But you can't sleep."
"I'm used to it."
Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."
You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.
"I get scared."
It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.
He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.
"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.
But you don't.
It only falls to your lap.
"The nightmares," you say.
He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.
Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.
Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.
Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.
"What are they of?" He carefully asks.
"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."
You've never spoken of your mother except now.
He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.
Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.
"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."
"Y/N..."
He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.
"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."
"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."
"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"
"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."
"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"
"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.
"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."
.
.
You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.
"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."
"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.
He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.
The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.
And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.
He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.
"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.
"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.
You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.
You stir a little and he hushes you softly.
"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.
You look so vulnerable.
Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.
But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.
There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.
"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.
"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.
Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.
So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."
.
.
"Your father has gone off my radar."
"O..oh..."
You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.
"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"
"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."
You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.
"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"
He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.
For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.
Worse than him, a mafia leader.
Because at least Namjoon has a heart.
"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."
Business over his own daughter.
What a piece of crap.
"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"
"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.
There's a moment of silence as you think it over.
"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"
"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."
A choice at your own life.
How different has life finally changed for you.
You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"
"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."
Yet he is still your father.
A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.
"It's your call, baby."
Your call.
No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.
Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.
And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.
But you don't know what to do.
"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.
Yet Namjoon remains patient.
"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."
It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.
So lonely.
So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.
"You don't hate it here?"
You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."
"This world I live in should scare you more."
"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"
"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."
He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.
All but the intense beating of your heart.
All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.
It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.
"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."
"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."
Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."
"And...you?"
A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"
You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.
"Good girl."
.
.
Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.
"He's dealt with," the man informs you.
Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.
More than good.
You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.
But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.
So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.
"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."
"Did he...mention me?"
A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.
And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.
You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.
Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.
You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.
So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.
He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.
You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."
Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.
"Sleep, sweetheart."
He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.
So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.
He's cold but you welcome it.
"Thank you, Hoseok."
.
.
"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.
Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."
Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.
Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."
"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.
"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.
"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"
"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."
"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"
"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."
Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.
Too soft.
And quick.
You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.
Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.
"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."
.
.
"Jin...?"
He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.
Something you can never come to ever decipher.
"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"
He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.
When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"
His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.
He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.
After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.
But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.
"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."
The nightmares, right.
"I just need to know."
He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"
You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.
"...may I?"
He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"
You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."
.
.
The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.
Peaceful and friendly looking.
"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.
It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.
How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.
You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.
Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.
You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.
But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.
Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?
Would she forgive you at all?
Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.
You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.
It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.
You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.
There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.
Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...
Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.
"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."
"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."
"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"
"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"
Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.
Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.
But she's escaped that.
Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.
Your half sister, your step father.
"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.
So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.
"Let's go home."
Home.
.
.
The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.
The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.
"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"
You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.
Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.
"You okay, baby?"
You nod against him. "Hungry."
He chuckles lightly.
.
.
2 am.
There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.
You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.
"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.
You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."
He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"
"You."
How cute.
It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.
"Come in, then."
They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.
"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.
Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."
"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.
Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.
"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.
And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.
4K notes · View notes
jekacatrina · 3 years
Text
Fate don't know you like I do
Hello, guys, have this super cheesy and self indulgent piece I wrote for Bakudeku day! I'm so happy to be part of this fandom and all the wonderful content creators out there, so here's my little contribution, enjoy! I wrote it super fast so sorry for any mistake or typo!
Also, the title is a song I love, please check it out, it inspired the whole thing!
Izuku wakes up to the sight of his bedroom ceiling, body aching and mind restless. He’s no longer wearing his hero suit, except for the undershirt and his pants, everything else is gone. Slowly, the yells of the crowd infiltrate his thoughts and he wishes to run away, to go to where he can’t hurt anyone he cares about.
He has to leave. He is being selfish. Izuku props himself up on his elbows.
“That’s the face of a rabbit ready to bolt,” the gruff voice startles him, and he turns to see Kacchan sitting on his desk, frowning. It adds up that they wouldn't leave him without someone standing guard.
Kacchan has changed out of his hero suit, and a dark grey long sleeved t-shirt hides the bandages on his shoulder and stomach, but Izuku is keenly aware of the wounds he was sporting as he flew around trying to keep him from leaving. By the end, his childhood friend was bleeding through them. That was Izuku’s fault; both Kacchan reopening his injuries and the fact that he has them in the first place.
“Kacchan, I'm so-“
“Save it, nerd,” he abandons the desk chair and shuffles closer.
Izuku takes him in; after weeks of agonizing over the state in which he left Kacchan, seeing him do a perfect arch in the air and stop a villain with a precise AP Shot, filled him with a relief so strong, it paralyzed him, and he was only able to stare in awe.
During the following fight, if Izuku can call it that when it was against his friends, Kacchan was everywhere; coordinating different maneuvers, and he even had a new move. Izuku told his friends they couldn’t keep up, and he remembers vaguely that he apologized, because in reality they’re miles ahead of him.
Still, nobody is like Kacchan: certain and absolute, pure will held together by his convictions. He never backs down, and he never gives up, only marches forward. Izuku never stood a chance against him, in more than one way.
Kacchan kneels by the bed, putting an elbow on the bed, close to his hips, and lazily resting his head on his hand.
“Kacchan, I can’t stay here,” he mumbles, trying to convey all his inner turmoil. He wants to stay, he is so tired and scared, but he will not risk anyone for his sake.
Kacchan frowns in response.
“You can, and you will, dumbass,” he states, surprising him by clutching his forearm. “I’m not chasing your sorry ass around anymore.”
“Then let me go,” Izuku turns his arm, grabbing him as well.
“You’re not going anywhere, Izuku.”
The name travels through his body, lighting him up on the inside, coursing through him with the violence of the first time he used One For All, equally exhilarating and terrifying.
It all comes back to him; the rain, his words, his bow, Izuku collapsing and Kacchan appearing in time to support him.
Izuku.
“You apologized,” he whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “You said all those things in front of the whole class.”
“I had to, asshole, you left before I could tell you in private,” he doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful. Kacchan doesn’t shy away from his decisions once he makes up his mind. “Only a shitty letter for explanation and that was it.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t even let me go with you, idiot.”
“You’re still dealing with the outcome of the last time I let you come with me.” The tears are running freely down his cheeks. “I had to watch how he almost took you away from me.” He scrubs his eyes furiously with his free hand, not letting go of Kacchan. “I can’t allow more people to suffer because of me.” He’s on his way to a full on breakdown, struggling to get air in his lungs, and blood roaring in his ears, the noises muffled.
Suddenly, Kacchan is hovering over him, shoving his shoulder firmly.
“Hey, Deku, scoot over,” Izuku only glances at him through his crying, baffled. “Give me some room to lay down, like when we were kids.” He’s already in the process of climbing on the bed, and Izuku manages to slide his body closer to the other end, grabbing the bed cover when the weight of his childhood friend laying down almost makes him roll over him. “Jesus Christ, you stink,” Kacchan complains.
“I know,” Izuku turns on his side, creating more space between them. Hygiene wasn’t that high on his list of priorities, not even eating or sleeping was, and he feels awful. He didn’t have the energy to shower before passing out.
“You smell like dirt and sweat.” Kacchan scrunches up his nose. “Worst of all, you reek of that goddamn martyr complex, and it pisses me off.” he turns too, and traps Izuku in his red gaze. “If you’re choosing to ignore all I said before, at least pay attention to the last part.” He’s not sugarcoating his words, he’s as brash as he always is. “We all want to fight, because we’re heroes and we want to protect everyone, including the fucking chosen one, whether you want us to or not. I’m not asking for your damn permission, and neither is any of the rest. So, you can either play nice and make it easy for us, or be a self-sacrificial idiot, making it all the more annoying. Your call.”
“I don’t know how to stop,” Izuku grimaces, reaching for him with a shaky hand, and awkwardly squeezes his arm. “I’m not ignoring all you said, Kacchan” he chooses to focus on that, gaze in his All Might covers. “I, I forgave you a long time ago, mostly because I wanted to focus on the good parts, so in a way I let go of it for me.” He forgets about his smell, and scoots closer, resting his forehead close to his shoulder. “But thank you, Katsuki.” He hasn’t said that name in ages, but that doesn’t come from any animosity on his part. Kacchan has always been and will always be Kacchan. Izuku feels him move as Kacchan places his chin on top of his matted curls, and they stay like that for a while, with their past laid to rest at last.
Kacchan speaks up first.
“Listen, Deku, everything is getting pretty fucking real,” he pauses for a moment. “Shit is really dangerous for any of us, but for you it is like a thousand times worse. Your ass is a fucking death magnet, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“One For All is a big responsibility, Kacchan, but it’s not yours.” He does his best to keep his voice low and soft, the weight of the legacy crushing him.
“The Hell is not!” Kacchan retorts vehemently. “You made it my deal the moment you told me!” Izuku winced. “What’s up with that? Wasn't that the biggest secret ever? Are you that much of a blabber mouth?”
Izuku clutches his arm harder.
“I wasn’t going to let you think I lied all those years.” He explains, and in a moment of bravery, he continues. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Kacchan.”
The anger in his voice disappears as fast as it came.
“I know that, idiot.” His bigger hand finds Izuku’s hip. “One for All is your responsibility, but you are mine.” Izuku is pretty sure he stops breathing. “Since we were fucking four years old, and you were this quirkless little shit that wouldn’t quit chasing after me, no matter how much I pushed you away.” Kacchan scoffs and his breath tickles him. “Well, congrats, dumbass, now you have me and I’m not going anywhere.” His heart flies to his throat and doesn’t let any word come out. Kacchan growls, clearly bothered by his silence. “All for One VS One For All is the fucking shit show for the ages, and of course you, Deku of all people, have to be right in the middle of that crap.” He talks through clenched teeth, and Izuku longs to soothe him, but there’s nothing he can say to fix the situation. “All those who fell against that fucking maniac and now you have to-” Kacchan chokes up, and punches Izuku on the arm. “Whatever, there's nothing I can do for those nobodies that came before you, but you have an advantage over them.”
“What’s that?” He whispers in a small voice, not believing he is having this conversation in bed with his childhood friend.
“You have me,” Kacchan utters, and Izuku feels like he hit him with an explosion, sweeping his feet from under him. “Just let me set something straight, Deku, I’m not going to be your fucking sidekick, you hear me? You watch my back and I watch yours. I don’t trust anyone to keep up with you.”
I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.
“Kacchan-”
“You deal with this crap once and for fucking all, Deku, and we come up on top.” Kacchan declares, Izuku can hear the smirk in his words, and he has to smile back. “I don’t settle for anything but the best, and taking down fucking evil incarnated, I’m in, Deku, I’m all in.” He disentangles them, leaning back with a vulnerable expression, and offers his hand for Izuku to clasp. “What do you say?”
Izuku wants to say no, push him away from danger and lock him somewhere where he is going to be safe, but he knows Kacchan. He is determined, stubborn to a fault, and braver than anyone he has met. If he sets his mind on protecting Izuku, nothing is going to stop Kacchan, not even him.
That’s why Izuku loves him like he does.
In this space, with just the two of them, Izuku can be honest with himself: He is scared, and he has been for a while.
Scared of not living up to All Might’s hopes.
Scared of never mastering this power.
Scared of letting down all the people that gave up their lives to take down All For One.
Scared of being the wrong choice.
At the end of the day, Midoriya Izuku is terrified of not being enough.
In the midst of all the fear and doubt, he sees Kacchan; the person Izuku admires the most, the hero he has chased since he was four years old, and the driving force behind his progress. Kacchan, who knows all of him, and understands him because he sees Izuku for who he is, all the good and bad parts.
His Kacchan, who is now offering to help him and ease his burden, risking his dream, his precious life in the process, to stay close to Izuku and protect him.
A part of him, the one that imitates All Might, is screaming at him that he has to reject the support, to do it on his own. He should hold the weight of the legacy by himself. However, the other part of him, the one that believes Kacchan is what victory looks like, tells him he isn’t All Might and he doesn’t have to be.
He is Midoriya Izuku, and he is allowed to live his life and fight his battles on his terms, just as Kacchan does.
He clasps his hand, and Kacchan smiles, without a trace of mockery or anger, just plain happiness and relief lifting the corners of his mouth. Izuku hasn't seen him smile like that in years, and he needs to say something. He means to say yes to his offer, maybe thank him, but what comes out instead is:
“I love you.”
The punched out gasp that Kacchan lets out shocks Izuku more than his confession does. He can’t believe the words he has hidden for so long in his heart escaped that easily. More shocking is the fact that he doesn’t want to take it back. Even if he is scared of many things, Kacchan isn’t one of them. Yes, Kacchan frustrates him, he worries him, and makes him nervous, but Izuku is not scared of him, never has been. He can die any day now, any of them can, and he is done with silencing his feelings.
Kacchan is not screaming or scowling, neither he is leaping out of the bed and running away from him, so Izuku would say he is mostly stunned, although he doesn’t see why. His feelings for him are a key part of the person he is. Izuku admires him, cares for him.
Izuku loves him.
“Do you mean it?” The question seems to pain him. He hasn’t released his hand.
“Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku is not hiding it, not anymore.
“After everything?”
The words strike his heart and cut deeply. Izuku doesn’t hold any grudge or resentment, and he can’t tolerate the idea of Kacchan thinking he can feel something for him despite their past.
“Because of everything, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, touching their joined hands with his forehead, shying from the red eyes. “The past doesn’t disappear, but that’s not our present, and definitely not our future.” He takes a deep breath to calm his heart. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get an answer.”
“Deku, you can do so much better,” Kacchan says, bluntly.
Izuku doesn't let the obvious rejection deter him from speaking with the truth.
“I don’t see how,” he stares at him, mustering a wonky smile. “You are you, Kacchan; you’re brave, honest, loyal, brilliant, and hardworking.” The words spill without filter, and he drinks the sight of his pale skin blushing. “It’s not about doing better, just who I choose, because when it comes down to it, I chose you a long time ago, Kacchan.”
Kacchan tips his head up, the blond strands cloaking his eyes. Izuku refuses to regret coming clean about his feelings, but as the silence grows between them, he starts to fidget. Little by little, he realizes the true weight of his confession, and the bridges he might be burning.
“This doesn’t have to change anything, Kacchan.”
“It changes everything, Deku,” he replies, not missing a beat.
Izuku curses his luck; it was just like him to confess his love right when Kacchan finally came back to him, something Izuku hadn’t dreamt in his wildest dreams. Dealing with these feelings much longer, when they are so powerful and consuming is not possible. Still, he should have tried, for the sake of their friendship.
A callous finger touches his chin, breaking his spiral of thoughts, and lifts his face. The fiery eyes are wide and defenseless, embers instead of the wild inferno Izuku expected.
The first touch of chapped lips is an awakening, and his first kiss is over before he can finish tasting it.
Kacchan leans back, and for the second time in his life, Izuku’s mind goes blank and his body moves on its own, chasing after him. Their second kiss is messy, they don’t have any experience, but Izuku is lost to it. He tries to commit to memory every brush of their lips and ragged gasps, how soft is his blond hair, and the feeling of fingers sinking in his curls, guiding the kiss.
They break apart, but stay close.
"You didn’t have to do that, Kacchan,” he says against his mouth.
“I never do shit I don’t want to do, Deku.”
Izuku grabs him again, bunching up his t-shirt, so full of love that he fears he is going to float away if he doesn’t get a firm grip.
“Deku, I-“ his voice quivers and Izuku kisses him again, softly and reassuringly.
“It’s okay, Kacchan, you don’t have to say anything yet.” Izuku told him because he wanted him to know, but he has had years to come to terms with it. He’s not expecting Kacchan to figure everything out right now.
“You better stick around after that, you damn nerd,” he touches their foreheads together. “Or take me with you. Two options, I’m magnanimous like that.”
Izuku giggles, the sound so foreign after the past weeks.
“Okay, Kacchan, for that I’ll stick around.”
“Or you’ll take me with you.”
Izuku is still terrified of anything happening to him, but he trusts him the most.
“I’ll stick around or take you with me,” he promises, and Kacchan nods satisfied, wrapping Izuku in his arms and hugging him closer. “I thought you said I stink.”
“You fucking do,” Kacchan says immediately. “When I think about this, the first thing that is going to pop into my mind is that my first kiss smelled like a wet dog.”
Izuku laughs until he cries, and Kacchan joins him.
At one point, his back is to Kacchan, and he’s playing with his hands. Izuku’s so relaxed his eyes are drifting close, sleep taking over.
“Hey, Deku,”
“Yes, Kacchan?” he says drowsily.
“You have magnificent taste.”
Izuku snorts, pulling his arm tighter around him.
“I’m going to sleep now,” he murmurs, and he jumps when Kacchan buries his face on the crook of his neck. “Wake me up if something happens.”
“You can trust me, Deku, nobody is going to pass through me.”
Izuku believes him with his entire heart, but he still chooses to only think and not say what crosses his mind before falling asleep in his arms:
I would die before letting anything happen to you.
113 notes · View notes
yuyupowers · 3 years
Text
aristocrat!hongjoong
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aristocrat!hoongjong x fem!reader headcanon
genre: fluff, angst
trigger warning(s): swearing, brief violence, mentions of unwanted sexual remarks. let me know if there’s anything else!
author’s note: this is the first time in years that i’ve written something omg 😅 😅 lemme know what you guys think!!  💕 💕
none of the pictures are mine!!
for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.
second son of an earl
despite being born into wealth and nobility, i think he’d be pretty grounded and level-headed
has to do with the fact that he’s naturally empathetic and curious
leads to a bit of a rebellious streak
more or less acts according to his parents expectations before them
but often does things that would scandalize them behind their backs
one of his favourite things to do is to sneak out during the manor at night dressed in commoner’s clothes
(which are carefully hidden in the music room)
his older brother takes the brunt of parental and societal pressure to act a certain way, but that doesn’t mean joong is off the hook
aristocracy just has so many god-forsake rules and mannerisms that everyone has to follow
unless they want to disgrace their entire family and lineage
yeaaah,,,
the only places he genuinely feels free are: a) in the music room, and b) exploring the city with you
during the third or fourth time he snuck out, he visited a local tavern.
cue you working as a tavern maiden
after serving him one (1) drink, you could tell that joong wasn’t actually a “commoner”
his clothes might have been worn and cheaply made, but his mannerisms,,,just didn’t match up
he was a little too polite; held himself a little too well
not to mention the hungry gleam of curiosity in his eyes
like everything was new and he was trying to absorb as much as he could
unfortunately for him, you weren’t the only one that noticed
after one too many drinks, some brutish fellows swaggered up to him
“‘ey there pal, ya werldn’t mind ‘anding sum coins over, would ya? ‘elp a brotha out”
joong, who had become a little too brazen thanks to the alcohol, told them to fuck off and stumbled to his feet, ready for a fight
except he couldn’t stand straight
and he didn’t have his sword
not good
luckily for joong, these fellows had been pestering you for the longest time
they were unusually rowdy and loud - which was saying something cause this was a tavern for fuck’s sake
and they constantly threw lewd remarks your way
but they didn’t actually do anything or break any of the tavern’s rules, so you had to serve their drinks with your best forced smile
they didn’t even tip well
assholes
anyways, back to the situation at hand
seeing a fight about to break out - which most definitely was against the rules - you hollered for the owner
“OI, A FIGHT’S ‘BOUT TO BREAK OUT!”
cue an angry-looking, burly man (with quite the ginger beard) and a very angry bar maiden (yes, you) tossing their sorry asses out the back door
joong, who by now had stumbled back into his seat, watched the scene with his mouth agape
to be frank, he’d never seen a woman act the way you did
all the women in his life were meek and docile
like a china doll that would break with one wrong move
they needed to be shielded, protected
clearly, you didn’t need protection
not when you hauled a man twice your size out the door, getting a good sucker punch for all the times they talked about your tits and ass
Right. In. Front. Of. Your. Face.
from that day on, joong became a regular at the tavern
he was careful not to drink as much as he did on the first time, at most getting tipsy
always polite and respectful
a bit on the quieter side, but made pleasant small talk whenever you took his order or served him his drinks
several months passed like this, and you’d become quite fond of him.
definitely helped that he was easy on the eyes
then one night, when he felt a little braver than usual, he invited you on a midnight adventure after your shift
you were pretty tired ngl, but you couldn’t turn him down after seeing the hopeful glimmer in his eyes
and boy, were you glad you didn’t
you don’t think you’ve ever felt so carefree in your life
or had so much fun
racing across bridges, exploring the hidden nooks and crannies of the city
much to your chagrin, joong would buy you (expensive) snacks that you just had to try because “he wasn’t gonna let his favourite girl miss out”
you ignored the fluttery feeling in your tummy
quickly, these “midnight adventures” became a frequent thing
he’d have a drink at the tavern, wait for you to finish your shift, and then the two of you would set off
you learned a lot about joong
of course he would have his spoiled rich boy™ moments-
“what do you MEAN you’ve never tried cane sugar?!” 
“joong, not everyone gets it imported to their house”
but he genuinely just has such a good heart
always listens when you need to rant or vent
(and offers surprisingly practical advice)
never once thought of you as lesser than him for being poor or a commoner
quickly learned that you felt uncomfortable when (in your eyes) he spent too much money on you, so he made sure to be more conscientious
(also gave him a reality check. it forced him to acknowledge the things he didn’t even realize he took for granted)
tells you about all the dumb gossip he hears through the noble grapevine
“who CARES if the color of the fabric is slightly off?! i swear park has a rod up his ass-”
especially loves to tell you about the music he’s composed
even if he gets a little shy at times
cute
he just looks so happy when he talks about music. the way his gums would show when he smiles, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, the way he’d grab a stick and draw different musical notations in the dirt to show you what he meant
happiness looked good on hongjoong
he even went as far to sneak you into his music room, playing the songs he wrote
and god did he look beautiful
the way the moonlight pooled on his fingers and spilled onto the bone-white piano keys
the way he looked so at ease
the way the music breathed, lived,  jumping off the scraggly parchment paper to dance under starlight
(you think that’s the moment you started falling for him)
fast forward and the two of you have been friends for a few years now
you know everything about him, and he knows everything about you
unfortunately, the older he gets, the more responsibilities his parents hand him
meaning he can’t sneak out as often as he’d like
but he still makes sure to see you at least once a week
on one particular night, you notice that hongjoong’s been especially quiet
been particularly insistent on treating you to your favourite snacks
you mention this to him, but he brushes it off by saying he feels bad for not being able to be there for you as much as he’d like
hongjoong was a good liar (even if he didn’t like it), but you knew that he wasn’t telling you the truth
not the whole truth, at least
but you didn’t press it; he’d tell in his own time
so the two of you raced across bridges, laughter bouncing off the walled shops
exploring every nook and cranny of the city even if the two of you knew it like the back of your hands
and eventually, the two of you would lay in your favourite field on the outskirts of the city, staring at the stars in peaceful silence
well, peaceful for you
joong felt hollow
or maybe like someone filled his stomach and chest with stones
hongjoong wasn’t an idiot; he knew you liked him
and he knew he was in love with you
you and your calloused hands
your dress permanently stained with ale
your knot of hair messily pulled back to keep it out of your face as you worked
your boisterous laugh
your bright eyes and smile
how you weren’t afraid to call him out on his rich boy shit™
the way you’d take off your shoes and dance in the field under the night sky
how you were a strong willed and free-spirited woman, but you let him take care of you from time to time
the way his eyes would linger on you when he thought you weren’t looking
the way your eyes would linger on him when you thought he wasn’t looking
“accidental” brushes of the arm, of hands
no, he wasn’t stupid
so how was he supposed to tell you he was getting married?
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cafedanslanuit · 3 years
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♡   —   summary: it’s been a month since porco and you broke up. after seeing you with your new lover, he decides to write a letter to you.
♡   —   tags: angst, exes to lovers (kind of?), canon compliant, gn!reader
♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired in ‘happier’ by olivia rodrigo.
♡   —   masterlist
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It’s been a month since the last time you were here.
Last week, I found one of your earrings under my bed. I remember how upset you were that you had lost it since I gave you those earrings after one year of being together. I told you not to worry but you still frantically looked everywhere for it, getting more desperate by the minute. I offered to buy you another pair. “Fancier ones,” I added. The smile on your face when you thanked me never met your eyes but I decided to leave it be. Days became weeks and I forgot I ever mentioned it. Would it have made a difference if I had remembered to buy you another pair?
Would you still be here if I had?
Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid to think a pair of earrings is why you left. I think it would take several pages for me to even try to understand what was that broke us apart. Trust me, all I’ve ever done is rethink every word I said to you. Where exactly did I fuck up? Can’t believe it took me a whole month to understand it wasn’t something I said. It was something I didn’t.
Guess it doesn’t matter now, right? You’re dating someone new and you look… happy. I think it took me seeing you laugh with him at the market the other day to realize you had been faking your smiles the last few months. I wish you hadn’t done that. But at the same time, I wish I had noticed they weren’t truthful when you were still mine. Pieck pulled me away from you two and tried to get me to focus on the things we had to buy for the warrior residence. 
I wanted to hate him, I really did. I had a million things to say about the way he dressed, the way I saw you paying for both of you, about the awful posture he had as he stood by your side. But then this little girl fell next to him as he ran with his friends. Just as I had taken a step in her direction, he was already helping her up. He crouched in front of her and shook the dust off her clothes while she asked if she was hurt. I watched as he offered her a candy apple to prevent the tears from falling down her cheeks. And damn, the way you looked at that interaction. There was that smile again.
Somehow, Pieck knew a little about him. Leave it to her to know every eldian in town. As we walked back to the residence, she mentioned he was a baker that had a small shop uptown. His wife had died at a young age and… I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because of course you already know by now. And in the end, do these details even matter? You were smiling again after faking it for months. I guess that’s what is important. I could write here all the reasons why I think a baker can’t compare to a warrior and that he can’t offer you all the commodities I did but…
He makes you smile. And I didn’t. Not during our last months together, at least.
He makes you happy, I can understand that. Maybe he’s better at expressing the shit that goes in his mind, he doesn’t have as much baggage as I do and he doesn’t have a job that could get him killed. I can give him that. But I really need to know if you love him as much as you loved me.
Do you stay awake all night counting his freckles like you did with me? Do you pull his hand to dance with you in the kitchen? Do you tell him he’s the love of your life? Or was that only reserved for me? I think back to when you said it first to me, with tears in your eyes and I believed every word of it. You know why? Because you also were the love of my life. Fuck, you still are. And I think when you love someone as much as we loved each other, even if it ended, even if you smile more now, it doesn’t simply go away.
You only get one love of your life and you are mine. Am I still yours?
I know nothing I say will make you miss me, turn around and come back home. You deserve the best life can offer. You deserve someone who doesn’t have his days counted and knows what to say at the right moment. Someone who makes you smile and tells you every day how fucking beautiful you are. Be happy with him. I really want you to. But please, baby, not like how you were with me.
This is probably the most selfish thing I’m about to ask, but here goes nothing. Tomorrow we’re going to Paradis to get the Founding Titan and finish this war for good. Shouldn’t take us more than two weeks. If by any chance you still have even an ounce of the love you had for me, meet me at the train station when we get back.
I don’t care if it’s only a pitiful remnant of the love we once had because trust me, I can make you love me again. I will do anything it takes. Want me to beg on my knees? I will. At this point, I don’t fucking care about my pride or anything else, just— let me make you smile again. For real this time. If you let me try, I promise I will spend every day of my life making you feel you took the right chance with me.
I know you deserve better. You deserve someone who has more than nine years to live, someone who is braver, that could say everything I'm writing to your face. I know that. And yet, I think the way we loved each other was something I never thought existed until I met you. So I will swallow my worthless pride and ask for another chance.
If you aren’t waiting for me at the train station when we get back, I'll understand. You don't have to explain yourself to me. We'll never talk about this letter again and next time I'll see you I'll say hello. Both to you and your new man. But I would be a coward if I didn't at least try, right?
Porco G.
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gwynrielsupremacy · 3 years
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Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday PART. 6
Guys just so you know i need to think of a better name for this bc like THIS IS GETTING BIIIIG (I have a playlist on spotify called "what would gwynriel sing" and i think i'll draw inspiration from there lol)
IT'S GWYN'S POV AGAIN (and this one's a little shorter lol i'm sorry... Rhys is in this chapter bc i honestly share the headcanon that Gwyn and Rhys would be close friends!)
MY GIRLS: @starbornsinger @madie2200 @katiebellf here it is!! And check out the Chapter List here
Gwyn couldn’t deny. She was nervous. That morning the words just rushed out about leaving the library, because she truly felt inspired by Diane’s words. She had spent the previous night awake, even if Emerie and Nesta had long fallen asleep, thinking about what she had to do next. She was feeling braver. Maybe it was because that was the best birthday she had since Sangravah, or perhaps ever, due to the circumstances. She still missed Catrin like crazy during the day, still felt that familiar ache in her chest when she worked at the library in the afternoon, or went training in the morning. But somehow, after everything that has happened in the evening, the lingering image of her sister started being more of a comfort, a companion, than the sorrow and guilt she was accustomed to.
Still, she was nervous.
She did really want to leave the library, and Clotho seemed happy, maybe even proud, to let her go. Merrill didn’t care as long as she kept working for her, at least a couple hours a day. One day, Gwyn thought that would change too. But for now, one step at a time. The night she went to the Town House and dined with the Inner Circle was one of many small steps Gwyn’s been giving these last few months towards more autonomy, independence, and strength. Towards the life she wanted for herself. And now, the day where she decided to move out of the library was the day she took another one.
And Azriel… Honestly, she thought she would be more scared about the prospect of having a mate than she actually did. Most of all, she was happy. She felt lucky and had the confidence that if anything were to happen between the two of them, they would take it slow, at her pace. She wouldn’t have it any other way. That if Azriel were to find out about the bond any time soon; or if she would summon enough courage to tell him. Because if he did know, he would’ve said something by now, wouldn’t he?
Yep. She was very nervous.
What she dreaded the most was the fact that Azriel, well, he may not feel the same once he found out. The Cauldron could be wrong, after all. And all these last months of getting closer to each other, training in companionable silence, laughing together, bantering… She was more than grateful for their friendship, but she knew that Azriel still had some things to figure out – about Elain. If he truly still felt something towards her, that was enough to strain Gwyn’s hopes for the moment. To maintain the quiet feeling to herself, and what it meant; that she was indeed worthy of happiness not only alone, but with another one.
She tried to push all those feelings aside as she was getting ready for dinner at the River House, the High Lady and Lord’s official estate. She looked at herself in the mirror, spinning side to side. It wasn’t much – after all, she didn’t have any clothes besides her robes, nightgowns and training leathers – but the outfit the House provided was more than enough. Her baggy turquoise linen pants and her white, loose crop top made her extremely comfortable, even if the latter was slightly shorter than what she was accustomed to.
She still wore the necklace Azriel re-gifted her. When he told her a few months back about the whole story, she truly understood him. He was in a bad place at the time, but so did she. And even if he had indeed made a mistake, she was glad to have it now. To know that someone gave it to her willingly, that was the thought she held on to. First person considered or not. And besides, it looked great against her freckled skin.
A gentle knock on the door of her new bedroom sounded. “Gwyn, you ready?”
“Yeah, come in”
Nesta opened the door and something sparked in her eyes as she stared at Gwyn through the mirror.
“You look beautiful, girl”
She spun on her heels and smiled at Nesta.
“I do, don’t I?”
They both laughed as they linked their arms and left the room.
“So” Nesta begun, as they walked towards the main entrance together “How are you settling in?”
“It’s very cozy, and I just love that view. The House is providing me everything I need at the moment. Thank you for inviting me to stay.” She gave her sister a grateful smile
“Well, I was serious; you can stay with us for as long as you want.”
“That means a lot.” Gwyn couldn’t contain her smile as she gently nudged her head against her sister’s.
“Don’t mention. I know you’d do the same for me.” And Nesta was right. Without thinking twice, Gwyn would have done the same for both of her newfound sisters. She was so grateful and thrilled their paths had crossed this way.
“By the way” Nesta mentioned innocently when they reached the common area “The room you chose, well, that’s three doors up from Azriel’s. If you have a problem with that, feel free to say it.”
And as she was summoning his presence, that was the moment the Shadowsinger came to vision, talking to Cassian in the balcony – waiting for them.
Gwyn drew on a breath, staring straight at him. When he caught her eye, she couldn’t help her smile. And when his eyes glittered, scanning her from head to toe, she answered quietly to her sister:
“No. I think that’ll be fine.”
*******
The River House was beautiful. Gwyn admired it as the four of them stood by the front door. It was big, but the decoration made it seem comfortable and cozy, despite its size. A true home, Gwyn thought.
Feyre opened the door, a warm smile instantly on her face.
“Come in!”
As soon as they stepped on the entrance hall, Gwyn marveled at the big painting on display. It was a portrait of Nesta as she held the line at the Pass of Enalius. Her cunning eyes seemed to look directly at anyone who came in, daring and challenging. “This is amazing.” She said, tearing her eyes from the image at last and looking at Feyre. Cassian and Nesta had already entered the living room and Azriel stood by the doorway, lingering.
Feyre was still smiling at her when she answered. “Thank you very much, Gwyn. I have others I can show you later, if you’d like.”
“I would love to. You have a beautiful home.” And she could barely conceal the emotion in her eyes as Feyre held her hand and sighed gratefully. She, maybe more than anyone, was well aware of how lucky she was to have such a family.
“We do.”
It was just when she reached the living room and beheld all of those who Feyre and Rhysand loved the most she felt Azriel’s presence still a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed upon her. A tendril of shadow curled up slightly at her wrist, as if saying We’re here. So she looked back for half a second before entering further into the room, only enough to meet his cryptic gaze and give him a half-smile. And couldn’t help the sparkling feeling in her chest when he gave her a reassuring nod.
*****
The night was going on peacefully. Gwyn didn’t say much, and it was rather content in observe. That way, she didn’t feel exposed, and also could get to know the Inner Circle better: their dynamics and bantering, how they acted around each other and discussed both serious and light topics. Elain, for example, was sitting in a chair in the corner, drink in hand. She only joined for dinner, ate quietly and then excused herself from the table for a long time. Rhys and Feyre took turns in watching Nyx, since this evening he went to sleep early. Emerie and Mor were having what seemed to be a very intimate conversation, knees touching and heads close, and Nesta and Cassian, well… They were being their usual selves.
And then she landed her eyes on the Shadowsinger. He was definitely the quietest of them all, even if during dinner he had participated in the more serious subjects of conversation and exchanged a few casual words with Gwyn. She could observe enough to notice he didn’t once glance at Elain, or her at him, and that they kept their distance. He actually seemed to have spent the evening doing the same thing Gwyn was, which was observing; except for him it was natural, a second skin. He certainly had enough time these hundred years to know well about the rest of his family, while she was doing that precisely to learn more about them. If it was easy for her to be like this, for him was instinct.
She couldn't stop but detain herself on the details of his face, though, as he now spoke to Mor, who had subtly approached him. He wore that inexpressive mask, but she could see the way his brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw set just slightly... There was something concerning him, making him uneasy. She wondered, maybe for the tenth time, when she would tell him. Or if she should let him find out by himself. And again, her heart fluttered as he put his hands in his pockets and nodded along, listening to Mor.
How could the Cauldron have chosen this? To have defined them as mates... He was the one who saved her, who’d seen her low, who helped her at the very worst moment of her life. And although she would be forever grateful for it, she was aware he had enough on his plate – to burden him with her feelings... She didn't know what to do. It was at that moment their eyes locked across the room. She didn't realize she had still been staring, and quickly darted her eyes away.
Only to meet with Rhysand’s staring at her from across the table.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry.
Oh, shit. Shit. Gwyn contained her gasp. He heard her. She didn't know for how long, but he could read her thoughts.
I was just going to ask you if you were feeling okay.
She knew what he meant. But still...
"Please. Please don’t say a word". She managed to whisper to that presence in her mind.
He doesn't know? She could feel his curiosity. Although they were still staring at each other, his face yielded nothing.
"I don't think so. Please, just…"
Don't worry, Gwyn. I won't tell him.
She could've cried in relieve. "Thank you."
He only nodded at her and raised his glass, and she could feel his presence fading from her mind.
*****
When they arrived at the House of Wind, a few hours later, Gwyn was still a little uneasy. She needed to learn how to shield her mind properly; even if she felt she trusted Rhys’s word, she couldn’t feel relaxed at the thought that someone else knew about what she’d only recently discovered and were still trying to figure out.
She could barely stare at Azriel when they flew all the way back. They remained silent all the way to the House of Wind, and her gaze remained fixed on the city landscape below them, or on the skies above. Never on him or their closeness, even if she’d caught him glancing at her a few times. They landed just a few minutes after Nesta and Cassian. When she meant to let go of his hand, he held it just for a moment longer:
“Did you have fun tonight?”
She nodded, managing to bring a smile upon her face. She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was; they were never like that around each other.
“A lot. Your family is very…”
“Extravagant?”
“I was going to say kind. But they might be a little extravagant, too.”
The corner of his lips tugged upward, and she let out a quiet laugh. “Are you going to sleep now?”
“In a few hours, maybe. I think I’ll hit the training ring first.”
She nodded. His shadows swirled a little at his shoulders. She seemed to forget about her nervousness for a second as she noticed his slightly furrowed brows, as if he was concentrating: “You know you don’t have to restrain them, if it tires you.”
“They should behave better.” It was all he grunted back, slightly annoyed at his dancing shadows.
“Well, I don’t mind at all. I like them. So at least around me, you shouldn’t worry about it.”
The seconds her eyes held his stare were enough to make Gwyn feel like she could burst – or touch him, again. So she turned away and smiled over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Az.”
All she felt before reaching the stairway was a tendril of shadow gently curling around her arm.
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