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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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Trust In Me ~ PJM [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.2K

PAIRING: Jimin x reader

GENRE: established-relationship, angst, fluffy ending, mentions of family and being raised by grandparents instead of mother

As you walked down the staircase of your house you placed earrings into your ears, calling out for Jimin to come out.

"Jimin, we're going to be late if we don't leave right now." You cried out as you walked into the living room to find him standing there in his practice clothes. Frowning at him you looked him up at down, today was supposed to be the day he had managed to get off work.

"I thought you got the day off," You whined slipping your shoes on as you looked at him. Jimin felt his stomach begin to churn as he looked at you and lied. Right to your face.

"I got called in again."

"But it's my Grandmothers 90th birthday...We were going to the meal." You reminded him, he had promised you weeks ago that he had gotten the day off and was going to be there.

"I got busy Y/n, I'm sorry." he walked towards you but you ignored his attempt at a hug. All it seemed as of late was that he was busy. Hardly home, always out until late hours of the morning and when he was home he was acting odd. Jittery whenever you asked him how his day had been, on edge whenever you told him that you were going to clean up the house. It felt as though he was hiding something. But you and Jimin had been together for almost 6 years, there was no way he would do something stupid.

That you knew of.

"I know baby, I'll make it up to you," He promised as he attempted to reach for you but you moved away from him. Grabbing your bag and looking around for your car keys.

"You've been saying that for weeks Jimin" You knew you were probably overreacting. You knew what his lifestyle was like. You had been living it for the last six years but that didn't make it easier.

"I'll make sure Seojun is following you." He told you as he looked outside. The world knew about your relationship which meant you travelled almost everywhere with a personal guard. Seojun was there to make sure you weren't trampled by paparazzi or Sassengs in the street. There wasn't anyone out there right now but he knew it wouldn't be long until someone was around.

"Thanks." You mumbled turning to leave when he took your hand in his, pulling you closer to him so that you were chest to chest with one another.

"You can't forget this." He placed a gift bag into your hand. The present you had gotten for Grandmas birthday. Something that the two of you had been planning on giving her for almost nine months.

"This is from both of us. I can't give it to her without you." You looked into the bag at the wrapped-up box and Jimin sighed.

"She'll know I'm sorry." Without a word to him, you walked out of the house with the bag. Climbing into the car more pissed off than ever that Jimin would leave you to go to a function like this alone.

Jimin stood watching you leave and biting down on his lip. It was never his intention to hurt you but this was something he had to do in secrecy. Grabbing his phone scrolling through until he found the name, "Seojun 2" and pressed the call.

"Can you meet me at the house?" He questioned as soon as the other line picked up.

"Sure. Shall I order pizza for when we're done?" An excited female voice asked as she got happy to hear Jimin calling her so early in the morning.

"Of course how could I ever say no when you get so excited like this?" He chuckled grabbing his bag and keys before heading out to his own car. Throwing a bag into the boot before climbing into the front seat,

"Make sure you bring protection this time, I'm not having a repeat of last time. We got in such a mess!" She grumbled at him as she began to think back on all of their times together.

"It wasn't my fault we were in the mess." Jimin scoffed as he began to start up the car and put his phone onto the stand,

"I think you'll find that it was your fault. You're so messy," She complained,

"I never hear you complain until the next time we see each other. I'll see you soon. Make sure you're ready, I want to start right away." He laughed before getting ready to end the phone call,

"So eager Mr Park."

"Only for you." He teased playfully. Hanging up and beginning his slow drive.

"Happy birthday Grandma," You whispered as you walked into the small restaurant your family was hosting in. A small family-run restaurant that had been in the mall for almost 12 years. Your whole family had been going there for years, your grandmother insisting that it was the only restaurant she would ever eat inside of.

"Thank you, dear," She looked behind you and you knew what she was looking for. Grandma happened to be Jimin's number one fan.

"He couldn't make it." You whispered as you put the gift bag down onto the table of other gifts and looked back at Granny who seemed to be upset.

"Why?"

"Because he had other things to do." You shrugged it off giving her a quick peck on the cheek before going to find you both a drink.

The truth was you had no idea where Jimin was. It seemed that he was always busy lately and it was beginning to bother you. You had no idea what he was so busy with. There was no comeback coming up and they weren't filming any dancing videos for their channel.

"Your grandfather used to get like that whenever he was hiding something." Your mother's voice sounded from beside you. Anger boiled up inside of you as soon as she felt the need to insert herself in your business when she was never really much of a mother anyway. Not to you at least.

"He isn't hiding anything." You hissed at your mother. She'd never liked you and Jimin together. She never liked you with anybody now that you came to think about it.

"All I'm saying is, he's a very handsome young man. He could have anybody he wanted." She smirked at you, you knew what she was thinking. The moment you had bought him to meet your grandmother your mother had begun flirting with Jimin. Doing anything she could to get his eyes on her.

"Thanks, mum." You grumbled sarcastically before walking away to go and join your grandmother who was opening her gifts. Your brother begging to go first as she picked up an envelope.

"That one's from me!" Your brother yelled excited as your grandmother began to tear it open, frowning and staring over at him as she slowly pulled out what was inside.

"Retirement home flyers?!" You cried out looking from the flyers and back to him as he nodded his head clearly proud at what he had gotten her.

"Granny needs somewhere she can live," Granny wasted no time in rolling the papers up and smacking him with them playfully until he pulled out a small box.

"This is your real one," He whined as he gave her the box. She pulled it open,

"It's Granddads old medals. I had them polished and cleaned." She began to tear up before hugging him tightly. Practically making his eyes pop out from his head as she thanked him over and over again.

"Mine next," You whispered pushing the box towards her. Something you had been keeping quiet for months, scared in case she hated it.

"It's from me and Jimin,"

"Who isn't here," Your mother laughed before your brother jabbed her in the side.

"Shut up and sit down. I don't see you with a date either." Grandma shut her up, taking the box from you carefully and smiling up at you.

Pulling the box open she began to tear up once again, tears beginning to roll down her face as she saw the snowglobe sitting there.

"A snowglobe for your collection," You smiled as you picked it up to show her that there was a small model of her old home. The one you had spent most of your life growing up inside of.

"Y/n how did you do this?" Your brother gasped as he moved closer to get a better look at the house. It was almost an exact replica, all it was missing was the porch swings.

"I found someone online who can make custom globes, Jimin and I went to the old house we got pictures." You explained as you shook the snowglobe for your grandmother.

"It's still standing?" She gasped looking up at you with widened eyes.

"Barely. It was practically withering away while we were there but the artist managed to capture everything it used to look like." You smiled remembering the day you took Jimin. It was almost 9 months ago, the two of you went for a road trip to go and find it, You'd almost cried seeing it so dishevelled and abandoned. The inside was terrible with broken glass on the floor, burnt flooring. The inside joinery was exposed and all of the wiring and copper had been stolen. You and Jimin had sat together for a few hours talking about how much the place meant to you and how much you wished you could have saved it.

"This is amazing, thank you." She left a giant kiss on your cheek and you smiled as she began shaking it and showing it off to anyone that was looking at her. Like a child on Christmas.

"I'm glad you like it, I'll text Jimin." You smiled before going to go and find a drink which you had intended to do before.

Sitting by the window you looked out at the people that were doing their shopping. The party seemed to be dragging by slowly since Jimin wasn't with you to help lighten the mood up a little.

"You're daydreaming." Grandma laughed as she fed you some more mozzarella sticks. Practically piling your plate higher each time. She claimed that you never ate enough when she was around and would always give you more food than you could possibly ever handle.

"Sorry, are you enjoying your birthday?" You questioned as you looked at her, she nodded her head. The whole family seemed to have spoiled her, which she truly deserved for everything she had done in her lifetime.

"It's been fun besides your mother, I swear she thinks I'm suddenly going to drop down dead." Your mother had been questioning her about the will all day. It came as no surprise that she only came around sniffing for money.

"Nope, you're going to live until 190," You teased as she shook her head at you. Taking your hands in hers and squeezing them softly making you look at her as she took on a serious look.

"You were always my favourite." You shook your head and scoffed at her,

"Granny..." You said slowly hoping that no one around you was listening to the conversation.

"I'm serious...When I do go everything will be going to you Including the silver. Make sure you hide that from your auntie Gina." She grumbled looking over at Gina who was eyeing up some of the gifts at the table. She was always sly about it but things magically disappeared whenever she was around.

"What about mum?"

"What about her? She gets nothing." You sighed before looking back out of the window. Your grandmother had practically raised you in that old house while your mother did nothing but party and not come home until 4 am only to sleep until 4 pm and start all over again.

"What about my brother-" You stopped yourself from speaking when you caught a glimpse of someone in the distance. It looked like Jimin.

"He gets to have Grandpas stuff, he always loved to look at it." You nodded as you continued to look over at the couple walking around together. Arms linked and ice cream in their hands. It couldn't have been Jimin.

Could it?

"I'm going to get some air," You whispered as you excused yourself from the restaurant and headed out of the door. Keeping your head down just in case it was Jimin.

"What are we doing?" Seojun asked as he finished off the slice of cake he was chewing. The family had been feeding him mass amounts of food since he had been standing by the door for most of the duration of the party.

"Going to see if that's Jimin," You whispered looking up at him as you pointed over near a shop. It was like his whole demeanour changed as he stared over in the direction you had pointed in.

"Seojun?" You questioned when you noticed how weird he seemed to be.

"It's not him." He mumbled,

"You barely even looked."

"It's not him." He told you again as he tried to usher you back to the restaurant but you got out of his grasp.

"I'll go over there myself and see-" You didn't need to go over yourself, the girl began laughing loudly and you turned to look. Jimin was standing there, the small tattoo on his left wrist a giveaway that it was him. The date of your anniversary was tattooed there.

"Y/n! We have more cake!" Your grandmother yelled from the door but you felt too sick to move. Everything was still going over in your head. Did you confront him now or later?

"You should do this later Miss Y/l/n, you don't want to ruin the party," Seojun whispered as he began to pull you into the house. Frantically texting Jimin to alert him that you had seen him out with another woman. The other woman he had been hiding from you.

When Jimin walked through the door that night he expected you to be asleep. That maybe you had calmed down from everything you had seen earlier but he couldn't have been more wrong. You were sitting and waiting for him surrounded by cups of coffee. It was clear you had decided to wait up for a long time for him.

"Where have you been? And don't lie to me because I asked the boys." He swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe there was a chance that he could get away with all of this.

"I was out with a friend,"

"A girl?" You questioned. Not angry that he was with someone else but angry that he felt the need to lie to you about it.

"Yes. She's just a friend." You got up and walked over to the cupboard. Pulling out an overnight bag and throwing it down onto the floor. If she was a friend then why did he have clothes packed up in a bag, looking as though he was planning to leave you?

"A friend you sleepover with at an undisclosed location?" You pulled the bag to show him everything that you had found inside of the bag.

"Y/n, it's not what it looks like." He stuttered out as you began to show him everything that was in the bag.

"So you just have spare underwear and clothes packed up for nothing?"

"It's not what you think it is, she's just a friend." He assured you trying to reach out to touch you but you backed away from him.

"If lies keep spewing from those lips then I am walking out of that door." You said coldly before kicking the bag towards him. Jimin sighed looking down at the bag and then up at you. It was time for him to come clean with you but there was no way you were going to believe him unless he showed you.

"Let me prove it...Let me show you where I've been doing, what I've been doing." You looked at him before nodding.

A quiet and agonizingly slow car ride later and you were standing at the house. The house you had grown up in.

"What are we doing here?" You questioned looking over at the house and then to Jimin who got out. The house was still falling apart except now there seemed to be a giant skip outside with rubbish inside of it.

"Follow me." He whispered not wanting to wake anyone else up on the street. It was almost 3 in the morning no one wanted to be woken up.

Following after him, you frowned as he walked into the house. Although the outside of the house was still falling apart the inside was all-new. The exposed walls were patched up, fresh paint all over the walls. Furniture in the place it had been in when you were younger. New flooring was put down to replace the burnt patches that had been left by squatters.

"I've been doing this...I wanted it to be a surprise for you but you saw me so I had to show you." He told you as he walked further into the house showing that everything was as you remembered it to be. A fireplace was put in place where your Grandmother used to sit and read you bedtime stories.

"I got everything from old images you'd shown me. Your brother gave me old photo albums so I could match everything." You were tearing up as you walked around the house. Everything looked to be exactly the same as your childhood home.

"The second floor isn't finished yet, Sooyoung and I were going to get started on it." The name of the girl he had been with, you turned to look at him.

"Sooyoung?"

"The girl you saw me with. She's Seojun's sister, she's a decorator." Your mouth formed an 'O' as you looked around at everything. Seojun had told you about his sister almost a million times but you'd never seen her before.

"Jimin this is perfect,"

"I wanted you to have everything you wanted...I know how much this place meant to you." Saying nothing you walked into his arms and hugged him tightly, kissing his chest. You couldn't believe you let your head run to the fact that he would cheat on you. Jimin would never hurt you and you knew that.

"I'm sorry I called you a liar."

"I'm sorry I hid it from you...I wanted it to be a surprise." He laughed weakly as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. Kissing the top of your head softly,

"I trust you Jimin. I really do...I was just scared. You'd been so busy and then mum said you could have whoever you wanted." He knew your mum would have something to do with the way you reacted so he shook his head. Promising you that everything was okay.

"I only want you." He whispered leaning down to kiss your lips softly. The start of the rest of your lives was going to happen in a house you had always dreamed of owning.

"This is our place?"

"It will be when we finish on the top floor. We have to way for a contractor to come out for that though." You smiled at him, kissing him once again. You were never going to get tired of kissing his perfect lips.

"Thank you Jimin, this is...This is the best surprise you could have ever given to me," He smiled down at you before bringing you into a real kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeper as you jumped up into his arms.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagines #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #jimin imagines #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #park jimin imagine #park jimin imagines

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved.

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu.

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot?

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now.

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door.

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter.

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #ml prompt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #mlbjustice

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forsakenoathkeeper · 3 years

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I Am Alive (chapter 19/?)

Chapter 19: The Missing Android

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

The Detroit Police Department had yet to make any substantial progress on the murder that occurred at AlphaBio a few weeks back, before another murder case hit their desks.

Connor stepped past the holographic caution tape into the building where their crime scene was located, immediately noticing the smell of blood was heavy in the air. In response, he turned his scent receptors down from standard to low. A body was sprawled out on the floor, cheek pressed into the pool of blood puddled beneath them.

"Nolin Greene," Officer Wilson stated when he saw Connor walk in. "M.E. estimated dead less than six hours."

Connor nodded at him before scanning Greene's body with his optical unit. He was 52 years old, had never been married, and was previously employed at Cyberlife as one of their esteemed programmers.

Even without scanning the man's corpse, it was obvious he had died from multiple gunshot wounds. One prominent bullet hole left a gaping wound in the back of his head, likely just to ensure he was dead, considering he had a few on his torso in addition.

Hank rounded the corner with a sigh. "All the security cameras were offline. Haven't been since pre-rev," he explained, approaching Connor.

He waited until Officer Wilson stepped away to lean into Connor with his arms crossed. "What did they make here?" Hank asked quietly.

"They used to generate code for androids operating systems and protocols," Connor explained smoothly, matching Hank's hushed tone. "All android manufacturing has been put to a halt. He had no reason to be here."

"Good point," Hank said lowly. "Would they have kept anything here?"

"Considering the audits Cyberlife financers are going through, I would imagine this place was-... scrubbed clean, so to speak," Connor replied, briefly glancing around the office space. Judging by the dust pileup and the damage to one of the windows, this place had likely sat abandoned for months.

"You think it's related to AlphaBio?" Hank asked the android. "Chips were stolen from that plant. This facility creates code. That's a dangerous combination," he observed.

Connor gave Hank an agreeing look before eyeing the room again. Officers had brought in crime scene lights to cast out the darkness, and a flashlight was on the floor, labeled as evidence. It was next to Greene's body and had his fingerprints on it, powered off likely due to dead batteries. It didn't require any detective skills to see the power was cut off completely to the building.

"Greene was likely here to meet someone," Connor observed. "Who made the 911 call?"

Officer Wilson walked back in, careful not to step in any of the evidence. "An android apparently," he answered. "The call is saved in the case file."

"I'll pull it up now," Connor stated, using his HUD to pull up the case files remotely. "Would you like to listen, Hank?" he offered, eyes staring blindly ahead as his focus was elsewhere.

"Go for it," Hank said gruffly.

Connor's lips didn't move, but the sounds came from his mouth. Hank had seen him use his vocal processor like a speaker before; but, he never quite got used to it, and still found it very bizarre to see Connor look dead in the face while making noises that weren't his voice.

"911. What's your emergency?" the dispatcher asked.

Officer Wilson, who had never seen Connor do that before, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the android in shock.

"My friend has been shot. I'm at-" a feminine voice followed. Seeing as she was an android, making the call with her internal processor, no outside noises could be heard, and there was no way to identify what made her suddenly stop talking.

The recorded 911 call continued in silence for a few more seconds before the android disconnected, giving dispatchers just enough time to locate the GPS coordinates from the call.

Connor stopped the recording and turned to Hank, his expressionless face returning to normal. He ignored Officer Wilson's concerned look.

"The android didn't block her GPS coordinates; so, she definitely wanted to be found," he explained to the lieutenant.

"She could have been the killer? Guy used to work at Cyberlife," Hank suggested thoughtfully. "Pissed off android?"

"Possibility," Connor acknowledged, nodding at the older detective. "However, she did identify him as her friend..."

The android trailed off, using his HUD to run a background check on Nolin Greene. "He belongs to no clubs, publicly, anyway, and has been unemployed since Cyberlife closed down. His former boss still has a primary residence in Detroit."

"Think he's worth a visit?" Hank offered more so than asked. "Let's go."

"I can drive," Connor offered, following the older detective as he headed for the exit.

"Fuck no," Hank immediately declared.

"Are you sure you can afford another speeding ticket?" the android challenged, some tease in his tone.

"I'm not gonna get another speeding ticket," Hank retorted fiercely, climbing into the driver's seat. He eyed Connor as the android shimmied into the passenger seat.

"Keep it up and your ass is walking," he threatened in a tone that Connor had grown rather accustomed to. It sounded sincere, but the android could tell the difference.

"Whatever you say, detective," Connor uttered, knowing full well his relaxed tone and stoic expression would irritate the older detective further.

Hank only grumbled in response.

...

Arthur Torres lived in a nice house in the posh, suburban side of town. He didn't seem at all surprised to find detectives at his door; however, he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop staring at Connor with blatant distrust and fear.

"You were a head programmer at Cyberlife for years," Hank stated, reciting information Connor had filled him in during their ride over. They had decided to let Hank lead with the likelihood that the man would be untrusting of Connor.

That seemed to be a very accurate assumption.

"Yes," Torres acknowledged Hank's statement.

"One of your former subordinates, Colin Greene, was murdered last night."

Torres was a skittish looking individual, and completely failed to maintain composure at the news. His hands were digging into his lap and he was struggling to keep still, fidgeting in his seat. Both the detectives doubted it was concern over Greene's livelihood, or lack of.

"Was it an android?" he asked, confirming their suspicions of his intentions.

Hank decided to ignore that question. "Greene's body was found at one of Cyberlife's office spaces, where programmers worked on their operating systems," the older detective explained. "We were hoping you could tell us why he would be there."

Connor decided to wear a cold look while he stood there, next to the couch where Hank had parked himself. The android was standing with perfect posture, arms crossed elegantly behind his back. It was clear that Torres was afraid of him. If he was being honest, he was taking advantage of that.

"Must have been the office where we worked," Torres offered quietly, trying to avoid Connor's piercing gaze. "I can't imagine why. The place was cleared out months ago. Did you ask Maria?"

Hank's brow lowered slightly. "Who?"

"Maria. She was a KL900 placed at our office. Nolin had reconfigured her so that she could test our codes. After the-" Torres' eyes flickered to Connor with uncertainty. "-revolution, he took her in - let her live with him."

Before Hank could utter another word, Torres continued, suddenly eager to run his mouth. "She had a lot of our incomplete code saved. I warned him it was dangerous to keep her."

The older detective looked down at his cellphone, that had vibrated quietly while Torres yapped. It was a text from Connor, reading, "the voice on the 911 call matches that model."

Hank tucked his phone back into his coat pocket. "What was their relationship like?"

"Well-" Torres began. "I suppose-... She was unique. He had modded her greatly - well beyond her manufactured purpose. I think he saw her as his own creation, in a way."

Again, before Hank could inquire further, Torres started up again. "She's missing, isn't she?"

Connor spoke up this time. "Are you suggesting she is somehow responsible?" His tone was calm, collected, almost polite, even; however, that was likely even more frightening than if he spoke with anger.

"I-" Torres stammered, eyes briefly flickering up to meet Connor's before immediately shifting back to the older detective. It was bizarre to think that this spineless man was once a lead programmer for Cyberlife.

"You can't think of any reason Greene would turn up dead in your old office?" Hank asked, maintaining the good cop persona he had taken up during this discussion.

"I can't think of why he would be there at all," Torres insisted.

"I would advise you offer something substantial," Connor warned, his tone cold and unyielding. "As of right now, you are our number one suspect."

"W-what?" Torres stammered, his panicked eyes falling on the android. "I haven't spoken to him since we were shut down. What motive could I possibly have?"

Connor's brown eyes remained unreadable, cold and robotic. That seemed to make Torres more uncomfortable than expressing valid emotion. "You said it yourself: he had access to incomplete code. Perhaps he knew something you didn't want getting out. So, you shut him up."

Torres' eyes landed on Hank, his gaze silently pleading, as if he expected Hank to stop Connor. Instead, the older detective wore a faint smirk. "He's got a point."

"No! I would never!" Torres defended himself loudly. "Y-you need to leave. I'm calling my lawyer."

...

"God, I love when those rich assholes lawyer up," Hank groaned as he climbed into his car. "It's like crying to mommy and daddy."

Connor slid into the passenger seat, a sour look on his face. "I pushed too hard. We probably could have gotten more out of him," he said apologetically.

"Nah," Hank retorted gruffly, silencing Connor's regrets. "We got the only useful thing out of him."

Hank pulled out of the street with a little more force than was necessary, mainly because he wanted to cause a fuss in the posh neighborhood. He could see the neighbors poking their heads out, rich and bored with nothing better to do than gossip. Hank's vintage car screamed detective or organized crime, and no in between.

"Let's check Greene's place. Maybe you can find something to help you locate this android," Hank suggested.

Greene's neighborhood wasn't as posh as Torres'; but, it was still nice, a little noisier with families out and about enjoying the weather. The warrant request had already been received and an electronic key had been sent over to Connor. He used the interface on his hand to let them inside.

The detectives walked around carefully, taking turns examining rooms for clues. The place was nicely furnished and impeccably clean. An android definitely lived here. If there was anything Connor could stereotype androids for, it was cleanliness.

There were a few photos hung up on the wall in the living room. The KL900 in the photos was likely Maria. She was an ordinary looking KL900, everything factory issued. Most of the photos were likely her at the Cyberlife programming facility.

There was one photo of just her and Nolin Greene together. She was wearing civilian clothes and her LED was removed. Their smiles suggested the relationship was a good one.

One of the bedrooms could easily be identified as Maria's room. There was no bed, but a desk with a charging station and a computer with an android interfacing tool in place of a mouse and keyboard. A quick scan of the room showed almost no fingerprints, except for a few on the door handle and door frame, which Connor immediately scanned as Nolin Greene's.

Hank was looking over a study that was likely Nolin's. The dark, stained wood desk was enough of a giveaway without all the golf memorabilia decorating the wall behind it. There was a laptop plugged into the charger. He figured CSI would pick it up later.

"Still waiting on that warrant for phone records!?" Hank called out.

Connor called back, "affirmative!"

"Damn," he grumbled to himself. "What's the holdup?"

The two detectives rendezvoused in the kitchen, exchanging disgruntled looks.

"No signs of a struggle," Hank observed.

"It wasn't a robbery. There aren't any fingerprints in the house not belonging to Greene," Connor explained. "The perpetrator left Greene's wallet and keys on his body... It's almost as if Greene was just... in the way."

The android looked away for a moment, staring off blindly as he searched Greene's employee folder again from Cyberlife's records. There was nothing in there about Maria, unsurprisingly. There were thousands of KL900's in circulation; so, there was no point in searching registered android records.

"Ya' thinking Greene wasn't the target?" Hank suggested.

"Assuming Torres wasn't giving us the runaround," Connor added on, setting a pondering gaze on the lieutenant, "Maria could have been the target; but... who would know that an ordinary looking KL900 has Cyberlife codes?"

"Someone who used to work for Cyberlife," Hank answered.

"It leads us back to Torres," Connor said sourly.

"He wasn't the only one that got bit in the ass," the older detective corrected him. "Lot's'a people out'a work. Lot's'a people facing lawsuits... and lot's'a people losing money. Oldest reason in the book."

"We need those phone records," Connor stated fiercely.

"I'm gonna call CSI. Get them on these damn computers," Hank stated, pulling out his cell phone.

"I could-"

"No."

...

After a long day of field work, Hank, Officer Wilson, Officer Miller, and Detective Collins gathered around a food truck a few blocks from the police station. It was already dark out and the street lights were illuminating the cityscape.

Connor decided to join them.

"You wouldn't fucking believe-" Officer Miller explained, an excited look in his eyes. "I thought this son of a bitch was gonna clock me. Connor came jumping over the roadblock and slam-dunked that motherfucker to the ground like this was WWE."

Detective Collins nearly chocked on his drink, doubling over with laughter. Hank was grinning, having witnessed that, and plenty of other amazing feats from the android, firsthand.

Officer Wilson nudged the android's shoulder. "Damn. Where the fuck were you when that crackhead tried to hit me with a baseball bat?" he teased, shoulders trembling with laughter and a wild, bright smile on his face.

Connor looked bashful, a crooked smile forming on his face.

"That's how you fucked up your hand," Hank added on.

"Small price to pay," Connor replied sincerely.

"Wait - was that how you met your lady friend? That nurse?" Officer Wilson asked, eyeing Connor suspiciously. He shifted his eyes to Miller with a grin. "Maybe I should save your dumbass next time and land me a hot nurse."

"You just need to get hurt," Miller replied with a grin, popping his knuckles dramatically. "I can help."

"I'd like to see you try," Wilson retorted. "You get knocked out by little old grandmas."

"That was Lewis," Detective Collins corrected. "But, it was pretty fucking funny."

"She put up quite a fight," Hank jumped in. "Earned that 'resisting arrest' with honors."

The conversation continued for a while, the men talking in-between eating their meals. Connor was mostly quiet, observing, occasionally jumping in when the moment seemed right. He worked with these guys almost every day and had grown to know them well; still, he found himself struggling to adjust to this - to fitting in.

When it was nearing eight o'clock, the android decided to dismiss himself.

"I'm gonna call it a night," he proclaimed, removing his elbows from the table. He had taken to using more common phrases around his coworkers, and this in particular was one of his favorites.

"Already? You don't sleep," Miller protested casually.

"He needs to get home so he can rearrange his girlfriend's guts," Wilson teased.

Miller and Collins broke out in laughter and Hank rolled his eyes, despite his faint smirk.

Connor stood there staring at them blankly, sincerely confused for a moment. Surely, that sort of thing would kill you. At the very least, it would cause severe damage that would require a surgeon. Why would he want to do such a thing?

A quick internet search, however, showed him that it was slang for rough sex.

He couldn't quite tell, but Connor was certain a faint blush had appeared on his cheeks. He spent 1.61 seconds internally debating if he should deny it or tease back.

At one point in the past, he might have taken this behavior as negative; however, he had grown to recognize banter as common between humans. The impersonality of it was how bonds were formed. Besides, he could easily recognize their teasing was unharmful. If anything, they were treating him like just another human, and that was more preferable.

"Maybe," he said lowly, the corner of his lip curling up slightly.

Connor's eyes reflected a mischievous glance at them briefly before he retreated. As he walked away, he heard the officers hollering obnoxiously at him, an echoing "ooohhh" as if he had declared something profound.

Before he was out of earshot, he could hear Hank grumpily, albeit fondly, telling them to "shut the fuck up".

#connor x reader #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #rk800 smut #connor smut

111 notes · View notes

sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

KILLING ME -11 |N.Y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: ~5k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree

networks :: @kafenetwork @neowritingsnet @nct-writers

K.M masterlist

K.M 10 next

a/n :: header was made with detailed instructions from lovely @cirrus-lily (thank you so much for your patience).

Previous night , taeyong’s office.

The thick, heavy unnatural silence was breached by the phone call. Taeil’s muffled words didn’t reach anyone’s ears but taeyong’s reaction was enough for an estimate!

“what did taeil say?”

Taeyong glanced at yuta’s hopeful yet helpless face. Taeil's order was far from what yuta's eyes sought. The past ten minutes were spent listening to the unsynchronized ticking of the clocks and some random whispering of the younger ones from the living room. And now, several pairs of eyes were asking for the answers.

“you will be stationed in nice, f-for two months.”

Yuta’s face hardened at his words. He gulped and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. The words stuck on his tongue would not be able to convey what he wanted to, he thought.

“with johnny?" Jaehyun uttered.

“no yuta is replacing him" taeyong mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

Yuta snickered , “ as expected.” as much as he didnt want to sound bitter, his senses were not cooperating with him too much.

“this is not about you or johnny. It’s better if you both stay away fr-

“did taeil tell her the truth?” yuta coldly cut him off.

“i don't know about that!"

“then I'll have to do it myself." Yuta stood up, alerting everyone.

“do not stretch this yuta. This can end right here. Your absence woul-

“you got it wrong taeyong!” yuta cackled , “I'm dying to leave this place but don't you think she deserves to know that she's wrong here.”

“please yuta. For last time. trust taeil. this is the last thing I’m asking from you. You’d get the chance to explain. Ju-just not yet.” Yuta scowled at taeyong’s hollow pleading.

He inched forward slamming his palms on the table , “ since when did you start playing with wrong players taeyong? you are supposed to be the smarter one here. Who are you fooling here? you think I don’t know why she’s here or jaemin, jeno, jungwoo, chenle, jisung, mark, they don’t have a hint?” taeyong eyes danced around the room avoiding any contact as yuta continued, “Don't stretch this taeyong. this can end right here. without hurting another one and right before they can get attached. I hope when i come back , you would have sorted this mess out or you won’t have time to regret this time”

Scoffing at taeyong’s hunched figure, he smacked the table once before leaving the room.

Doyoung followed soon , leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone.

Panic engulfed jaehyun’s entire being as he pondered over yuta’s words.

“he’s right. You saw her today. She’s getting worked up over a stupid misunderstanding and you saw the way taeil is acting! This was never the plan. She’s not timid. You cannot possibly make her agree to anything at all. Taeil would never let that happen. Heck! Yuta’s getting weirder these days. Let her go. We can wait unt-

“We. Can’t .wait. I know my limits, Jaehyun and two months are enough..” Taeyong whisper yelled “ I care about her more than you’d ever do so get the fuck out of here. You don't get to tell me what I should be doing.”

Jaehyun leered at the older man, muscles in his jaw twitching at his words “you have lost it taeyong. if we fail this time, you’d be the one to blame.”

Perfectly ironed shirts were wrinkled as yuta threw them into the case. doyoung was ready to accompany but he refused all the assistance proposed to him. He left nothing. from t-shirts and pants to jumpers, he packed as if he was going for a one way trip to france.

He groaned , jumping on the suitcase, trying to bury the clothes deeper into the case so he could zip it. Once finished,he pushed the cases out of the room and into the hall. locking the door, his running and hurried eyes fell on the opposite room. It was bare of any presence. This was his first time peeking into your room. He was merely looking from afar but the very next second he found himself going through the album resting on the bed covers. a perfect normal photo album was calming enough to subside his inner turmoil.

yuta scrunched his nose at the small girl who was either frowning or crying in most of the pictures. the family of three looked quite happy. But the girl didn't seem to resemble any of the adults. He almost let out a laugh at your wailing form in every other photo. Just looking at the pictures, anyone with two eyes could tell that you were a spoiled kid. No wonder you were full of attitude and ego, he thought.

closing it, he glanced at the room, simple and plain. Not that his own wasn’t but he couldn’t find anything that had prompted you to lock your door for the whole day. He left the room to lock his own but when he pocketed his keys, they met with something at the end of his pants pocket.

A grunt left his throat at the sight of the screws. He had placed them in his pocket to follow your fuming body, the reason of which he didn’t know back then. He was about to throw them on the bed when the album caught his eyes again. He cursed at himself for being so indecisive. Pacing back and forth , he noticed how composed he had suddenly become. He wasn’t feeling anger, just some traces of irritation for the whole drama that had unfolded.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he took a paper from your desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and left it on the counter.

All while hoping taeil was actually being reasonable , just this once.

12:30 p.m

Looking through the power window, you stared at taeil’s arriving form, hands full with brown food bags. He hit the car door with his one knee prompting you to open the door from inside.

“when I say you are no better than others ,I really mean you are NO better than them!” taeil chortled as he shoved a bag into your lap.

“what did I do this time?” you rolled your eyes as you anticipated another moral lecture from him.

“nothing. you are making an old man to get food for you!”

“and I had suggested the said old man to enter the drive thru!”

“and drive thru is no fun, duh! The vintage the better!”

“just like someone I know! you exclaimed chewing the burger.

“very funny. You know highway stops are all about breathing in fresh air while stretching your arms, yawning so widely that you have to hide your face in your stretched arm to save yourself from the embarrassment. The first step out of the car after hours of driving feels like restoration of something that was denied to you for such a long time. and the second phase of happiness comes at the engine purring, the feeling is like no other, I’m telling you. but someone lost their chance to experience it .”

“you sound poetic taeil but you lack facts. The fresh air you just inhaled is what we consider a polluted one.I’ll prefer to sit inside and miss all that instead of going out and dying. So let go of the fancy peace thoughts and develop your perceptions according to the changing world. The sound of this vintage engine is a source of headache and not happiness.Now lemme eat. IN PEACE”

“we’ll see whose perception changes” taeil mumbled munching on the fries.

You both ate in silence for 20 minutes. As the drive continued ,the stilled milieu took you back to the uncertainties you were trying so hard to suppress. When taeil had knocked at the door in the morning, which was beyond expectation at first, he gave you the liberty to question his actions but you had passed that opportunity, precisely to show that you weren’t that greedy. But you were! The endless queries were now making you anxious. Why did taeil come with you? what was the reason behind his pleasant behaviour, how could yuta agree to go like that? sure he liked your presence not more than you did but was he the kind to bow down so easily! Or was he designing something under the colour of acceptance. taken together ,you ended up being the ruthless one here. But the leading one was why did yesterday happen! Multiple stolen glances at Taeil were fairly noticeable; you were waiting for him to just start something. And he perhaps was waiting for you to initiate. Dilemma remained unsolved and you arrived in seoul just like you had left it, but visiting your parents had lessened the encumbrances weighing you down.

You were about to retreat after thanking him when he finally spoke up,

“b.n at 6! No exemption. And instead of racking your brain, just ask. it’s simpler than you make it to be y/n.”

Slamming the door shut , you dragged your feet for the apartment, shaking your head at the man.

Of course he knows everything! And maybe could ask him someday to get your own answers.

10 days later

The gun went off with a bang which if it hadn’t been for the ear protectors and the noiseless sheets, would have deafen your ears. Fingers pointed at the target, eyes coloured with impatience, jungwoo didn’t move. After he was done with his dramatic action, the glass shield slid and he entered inside.

“this is target A. this one is B” he asked for a confirmation with his wide eyes which you nodded at.

“right. so!” he walked circling the dry grass to stand between two targets, “so when I say hit at A, you should be firing at A, precisely aiming anywhere in this space.” he explained again, hand moving in front of the said space.

“I hit at the center jungwoo! The fucking center! For the first time in two weeks.”

“yes. You did hit the core but of the wrong target.”

“how does it matter? It's a perfect shoot”

Jungwoo blinked multiple times focusing on your puzzled face. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to annoy him or you seriously lacked a few braincells to understand where you were wrong!

“at the wrong target.” he pressed.

“but I still hit-

“Ok. listen to me carefully now. Lets assume A is taeil hyung and B is a killer. If i shout to you that kill B and you mistakenly shoot A instead then you’d end up killing taeil hyung instead of the killer and then you’d be a killer yourself and even if the shot was perfect it was targeted wrongly thats why when i say hit A, hit A and when i say B, hit B. understood now?” dumbfounded, you stared at him bobbing your head a few times to indicate you understood. But you really hadn’t.

“You are not lying right?”

“Dont accuse me of lying!”

“Oh! So you still don-

“hey beautiful!”

Your heads jerked towards the owner of the voice who had just interrupted the bickering.

“johnny” you whispered.

“I meant jungwoo y/n.” jungwoo sticked his tongue out at you as he jumped forward to hug johnny.

“When did you come back?”

“just now. I flew directly to Japan from nice. didn’t he inform you all? And why is nobody at home?”

a small smile graced your face while jungwoo started explaining to him about some business event. You felt like jungwoo won’t shut up anytime soon so you turned around from the scene and made yourself busy with the magazine. As you were counting the rubber bullets to fill the magazine, a pair of arms touched your both shoulders.

“wh-

“how are you y/n.”

“you done talking to your prince.”

Jungwoo groaned approaching you with a stern look.

“you’ll have plenty of time to chatter. Focus on your job instead!”

“ugh. You are so annoying. I’m done for the day.” You announced handing the pistol to him.

“wait! what am I missing here.” Johnny's eyes shifted , not knowing what was going on in his absence.

“yuta hyu-

“I know all that. I’m asking about the bullets!”

“Taeil told me to learn some basics to defend myself and jungwoo is my assigned teacher who don’t seem to appreciate my skills at all”

“liar!” Jungwoo screeched and continued, “she’s poor at shooting, hits anywhere but the point I’m indicating at an-and she never listens to me.”

Snorting dramatically at the end, he glares at you. you welcomed his complaining speech with a toothy grin which seemed to annoy him more. One thing you had learnt in the past two weeks had been that jungwoo was frustrating when he was hungry and during the time he was supposed to teach you, no food was allowed in the basement, making him a hunger monster.. Johnny watched the exchange with an amused smile, just like you were doing a few minutes ago.

“alright. You both need to chill. Jungwoo, she's not a professional so go easy on her and you! you should listen to him. or if you want I can be your tutor instead!”

“don’t hijack here. she's my student and I was chosen because I am the softest and the sweeter one her-

“who is a second away from having a breakdown!”

“no go out. You are not invited anymore. nobody is allowed here from 6 to 7:30 .” Jungwoo announced as he started pushing Johnny out the door.

‘”yaa! Jungwoo. I’m go- don’t push me you rascal. I am going. Bye y/n. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” He shouted and waved in the air which you, for no reason, found yourself returning even if he wasn't going to see it.

As johnny was gone, jungwoo pressed the switch again to close the partition. Coming behind you, his arms embraced you and he placed the gun in your hand as he ducked himself to reach your height with another try to improve the hand-eye coordination. Occupied with each other, you both missed the pair of eyes watching you both in a very unpleasant manner.

“how’s your research going?” johnny asked with a mouthful of meatballs.

“it’s meh! The library is under construction so I can't properly look through books and besides minjun is too whiny to let me do anything. I can’t leave that kid alone so we're always hanging out after 1. I’ve some resources saved so I’m fine for now” you replied.

“seems like that minjun guy makes you very happy. Is he the one?” jaehyun took your attention as he pinched his neck. You narrowed your eyes at his unnecessary remark.

“my happy pill is not minjun but you jaehyun dear. I haven’t seen you in like 5 days i guess? So that eliminated all the reasons for my unhappiness. Your absence is my elixir jae. ” You grinned. Jaheyun pointed his chopstick at you but before he could utter anything, taeyong spoke up.

“woah. Don’t you two start now.” he cried.

“he’s the one that starts everything! I just continue his shit for it-

“well I won't initiate if its not for that stinky tongue o-

“Shut up before I lock both of you in a room.”

Hearing several snickers, it seemed like taeyong was the only one getting annoyed, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

Just when you were about to pour more juice, everything else finished and left the table. it seemed strange as how fast they were done with their dinner.

“how can you all eat so quickly?” doyoung seemed to be more perplexed as he asked taeyong.

“don’t you both know?” you settled your chopsticks on the plate as taeyong proceeded, “the last two to finish cleans the dishes.”

You instantly scanned the whole dining table and the instant regret of eating like a sloth washed over your face. There were only three left and next second there were only two. Jungwoo shot up from seat with his stuffed mouth, waved and left. Taeyong didn’t waste any time before he also scurried away.

“this was a conspiracy y/n.” doyoung murmured.

“I know right. they knew it. w-we have to wash for 14 people.”

“look at the brighter side, we don’t have to hurry now.”

You shrugged at his words, filling your glass with juice again.

“you should not be drinking juice at nighttime.” He lectured

“then why is it on the table?”

“aish! You are impossible.”

“so are you.”

You continued bickering with doyoung until both of you were finished. Like everyone else, you too had started to find joy while annoying doyoung. The responses from him were always a treat. He was also awfully similar to you. the nit-picking in almost everything, forever sceptical body language and lastly the identical frown you both wore all the time. but you were not the one that detected the similarities, it was doyoung himself.

It was not just doyoung! With exception of jaehyun, it seemed like everyone was trying to make you a part of their daily lives. The day after the incident, you had hesitated to knock the door, scared of their reactions towards you but the dark cloud of worry had floated away with the warmest hug jungwoo had welcomed you with. You detected no rejection, no unpleasant remarks, instead you were strictly instructed to not to leave the premises without having dinner. And that one day became two and two a routine. You were confused as you were the reason someone dear to them was somewhere he wasn't meant to be at the moment and yet they treated you like you were their own! For first few days you were at edge, the affection not digestible. Feeding your suspicions , you tried to choke something out of mark who was also your designated driver but all he unveiled was his endless jokes and contagious giggles weaved with the various stories. Each day he recited a new one, sowing the seeds of intimacy with his family which, you couldn’t deny, were sprouting into something unprecedented. However vague it was, you liked it. You liked this unsought acceptance, being included like a family, taking you back in the time. But you never had the luxury of an easy life. Was this worth trusting? Were you ready to return their affection by placing them on the pedestal as same as jungkook and yugyeom. But this house wasn no more reeking of any resentment and you were more than fine with that for now.

"Stack the glasses, I'll pick up the plates"

"This is so tiring" you complained while scraping the sauce on the plates.

"You'll get used to it." Doyoung deadpanned.

"Tell me why i agreed to this!"

"You know the rules. And don’t you remember because of you, I washed for 20 people that day! You deserve the suffering woman!”

You chuckled at the memory. A few days ago, You, doyoung and hyuck were the last ones remaining. And you had won the rock paper scissors. Though the last two were the supposed cleaners, hyuck had ditched the poor boy, leaving him with extra load.

"You carry some heavy dark clouds on your head man. I don't know how you manage to end up with dirty utensils!every fucking single time" Doyoung glared at your remark and you both continued washing and wiping the dishes side by side.

"Where are the spoons?"

"On the table. Wait , I'll be back in 2 minutes!"

Carrying the cutlery you made your way back to the kitchen but chanting of a familiar name froze you in your steps.

"He's acting like a child johnny! Had he called you after you left?" It was taeyong speaking in a hushed manner, but he was not doing a very good job in whispering.

"Nope. He just took names and contacts of all the whistleblowers and that's it. But i can’t understand the need for that taeyong! I had everything in control. What do you wanna achieve with your stupidity!”

"Jaemin, hyuck and jisung are in constant contact with him but only to receive the codes he's sending. He's just unreachable and I'm not just talking about his cell network johnny. I'm losing him. He- taeil thought it’s for the best. They won’t see each others face for sometime an-

“And everything would be fine? Right? Sounds very legit. Goodluck with daydreaming princess.”

Hearing some shuffling, you trudged for the kitchen, not wanting them to be aware of your eavesdropping.

Stretching the hem of your knee length skirt with your hands, you kicked your feet in the air to get the non existing elasticity to work. chances were not less but anybody could see you so while cursing at chelin for the tight skirt you made your way inside the office. Your bag made contact with your right hip as you walked into the office corridors. You entered the security doors through the pass that was generated online for first day entry.You never wanted to enter this side of the famous company but with minimum options available you had no choice but to associate yourself with this branch, infamous for saving culprits of money laundering, false accusations and what not.

“ms. y/n?” a receptionist shifted your attention to her tall frame. You affirmed with a nod and she extended her hand asking for the documents.

“I’ll place your original documents in our custody room. No need to worry, this is a mere formality as we don’t make interns sign confidentiality papers. As you already know , you can end your internship with a three weeks prior notice and when we receive that application, your document would be handed back. And in case, you become an associate, and that would depend on your performance, you’ll get them at the promotion.”

You followed her steps as she stopped at a desk and gave you the papers back.

“change the folder to a chois file. And sign this receipt. I’ll give you a copy and don’t lose it if you want your degree back.” You blinked drinking each and every word she said. You again nodded like a lost child and completed the formalities. After a few minutes you were shown to your small desk that was decorated with a pyramid of legal files.

“do I have to work on these” you voiced your fear. Even if it was a stipend based internship, nobody would take up that work load.

“oh no! actually I forgot that you were joining but I’ll get it cleaned in the evening so you can adjust for today right?” before you could respond the sound of her heels faded away in the distance.

“Welcome to the great chois y/n” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a random file to pass the time until further orders.

A week later

To keep your mind off the distasteful look painted all over mr. kwang’s face, you chose to look at his new assistant. The clicking or rather banging of the keys of the computer combined with the occasional scratch of her nails was highly uncomfortable but not more than the man sitting beside her. Your professor didn’t find it amusing that his favourite free fund student was asking for her permitted leave.

“how much have you progressed with the thesis?” he scoffed, respectfully dumping the application on the table.

“I’ll be working half day. I’m not supposed to accompany them to the hearings so I’ll be back in the university in the late afternoon to research on that.”

He sighed, clearly not satisfied by the answer, “you want to skip lectures for an assistant job!”

“I would be promoted shortly so it’s acceptable sir.” A lie slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“what about getting distinction in thesis?”

“I’ll be surrounded with experts so it’s not a big deal sir. I’m getting late. I’ll see you in Friday’s lecture.” In sync with his eyeballs, he rolled his chair to face the other way. Picking up the paper you bowed to his back and left the staffroom , a grin of content bedazzling your face.

"He did what?" Johnny tried hard to control his laughter but the scenario you were narrating was too humorous for him to keep his hands stable on the wheel.

"I'm not kidding John. Yugyeom seriously forgot kook at Busan. But he did go back to get him though but I won't blame gyeom for this error!"

"Oh yeah! Just because jungkook slept in the gym doesn't justify his mistake girl. The driver should count the passengers before taking the wheel. Look at me, i never forget anyone no matter what!"

"Stop blowing your own trumpet. Don't forget you are driving a stolen car!"

Johnny rolled his eyes at the comment , "no, borrowed from mark so I can spend more time with you. stop lawyering and tell me what you did in the break. Apart from flirting with jungwoo of course."

You shook your head at him as he repeated the same you-flirt-with-jungwoo mantra again but this time decided to follow the lead , "so what if we flirt! He's teaching me to save myself from predators , abductors and he’s very gentle with me. Have you seen his eyes! I want to drown myself in the depth of those brown sea-

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm never mentioning that again but please stop. You are awful with words." His laughed again, you joining him soon. " Now seriously tell me how were your holidays"

"Umm nothing new except that everyone was on university funded trips leaving me with minjun , his camera and the plants. We explored botanies and flower shops an-

He had lied. You were not sounding awful but he just hated how quickly his heart beat at someone else's mention from your lips. He consumed each and every word like he could be tested on the said information later on. His eyes were glued to the road and his ears to your voice. He wanted nothing more than to be the only one you’d see. He wanted nothing more than to be subject of your talking but the voice in the back of his mind said fuck it johnny, you are already asking for too much. He hated how he lost control over his senses whenever you were near him but he was slowly getting used to the dilemma. But the trance he was trapped in quickly broke down when you mentioned something. Abruptly stopping the car by the trees, he faced you to confirm.

"You are doing what?"

"I'm interning. Don't look at me like I stole your candy John. I need money." You innocently replied not aware of the reason behind his sudden dumbfounded expression.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on masters!n yuta is supposed to pay for you so why do y-

" I can work for my money johnny." Frustration made its way to your face as you continued,"drop me home johnny!" You weren't sure whether it was for his mention or him questioning your ability to feed yourself but you were offended.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I won't mention that again" a hollow apology and the car sailed again.

Hiding himself in his car seat, Johnny's fingers hovered over various contacts. Taeyong, taeil, Yuta, jaehyun! He wasn't sure what he wanted to do or whose side he wanted to take. He just wanted to be with you and no one else! but he couldnt do that !

Kicking harshly at the brakes, he screamed. The voice reaching no one’s ears but his own.

Was he asking for too much?

i wanted to add more to this chapter but i dont find enough time to write due to some commitments! but i’ll update one more chapter before this beautiful year ends. and all the smut chapters would be uploaded again sans the adult stuff for the minor readers! and there are few more chapters left. masterlist says 12 chapters bcs i’m lazy（￣︶￣）↗　

HAPPY DECEMBER EVERYONE. HAPPY HANUKKAH AND MARRY CHRISTMAS. BE THE SANTA OF YOUR LIFE AND SPREAD HAPPINESS!!

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct mafia #nct yuta #yuta mafia #yuta arrange marriage au #nct arrange marriage #nct series #yuta series #killing me yuta

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tatertotthethot · 4 years

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

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aoifeanamadan · 3 years

Text

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 6488

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

The sky is blue, the sun is hot and Dream hates George.

Everyone knew Dream hated him, really hated him, all smug and sarcastic and closed off. Where Dream was friendly, loud and outgoing, George was quiet and pretentious. It was like he thought he was above everyone else.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Three: Rusty Swings

Dream was a winner, it was what he did. Ever since he was a kid, losing had always felt unnatural. It was wrong on a molecular level. The shame of it, the loss of control.

When he was younger, he used to challenge his older brother to wrestling matches. His brother thought it was fun, just some rough and tumbling. Dream on the other hand, Dream treated it like the Olympics. He would abandon any kind of formality if it meant he would win.

He would kick and scream, clawing and biting his brother. He ignored the feeling of skin under his nails, just focusing on winning. After the first few times, Dream’s brother stopped saying yes when Dream asked to wrestle. He counted that as a win.

He had the same spirit when it came to soccer. He had captained the school’s team to two state championship victories in two years. The entire school knew him, the entire state. They were the best team, in every soccer team of the entire state. They were winners.

It wasn’t all him, they were a great team, but Dream elevated them. When Dream got better, he brought everyone else along with him.

When college scouts came to watch their games, they were there to see Dream. But they couldn’t ignore the rest of the team. They worked as a unit, weaving and dodging as if they were all a part of one common entity.

Soccer was Dream’s life. He had been playing since he was a kid. It was easy. When he was playing soccer, he knew what he was doing. There were no big decisions to make, it was just get the ball in the net. It was as natural and breathing.

His talent was a huge added bonus, but even without it Dream thought he would still be playing.

Soccer was Dream’s life, but he now had other commitments. Well, one other commitment.

George.

More specifically, trying to figure out how to tell George he was going to need to reschedule the mandatory time they were meant to spend together. George was, in fact, the one who had managed to broker the weekend slots. He had saved the both of them from having to stay back after school three times a week. And, he had done it just so Dream would be able to keep going to his soccer training.

Considering all of this, it really was an annoying oversight that the soccer team had a training session scheduled for the exact time Dream and George had agreed to meet up. The fact that Dream had been the one to schedule it last month made it even more annoying.

So, Dream thought he justifiably worried about asking him to further change the arranged time. He had spent almost four days trying to figure out what to say, and how to say it without sounding like he was spitting in George’s face, when it struck him. The solution was so painfully obvious.

Dream was nothing if not consistent. He did the exact same thing he always did, the same thing he had always done. Lying on his bed, throwing his balled-up socks into a drawer across the room, he texted Sapnap.

Dream (10:41 am)

Ft?

Sapnap’s name was on his screen in seconds. Dream accepted the call.

“Sapnap, please help me.” Sapnap didn’t flinch. He just smiled warmly down the phone, a quiet giggle passing through the speaker.

“Okay Dreamie-Boy, calm it down. Whatever it is, it is not the end of the world. Chillax.” Sapnap had never stopped using chillax as if it was a regular verb, not since he started in 2011. Dream decided that right then was not the time to mention it - even if he wanted to.

“I can’t figure out how to reschedule with George.” Sapnap’s bark of laughter was not reassuring in the slightest.

“What?” Dream didn’t like the glee coming from Sapnap’s voice.

“I can’t figure out how to tell him I need to change our meeting time!” Dream hated the way his voice whined. “Dude.” Despite his best efforts to hang onto his panic, Dream felt the calm seeping in. The familiarity, it was an inevitable comfort. Sapnap continued. “You are a senior. ” “And?” Dream tried to throw one of his washed pairs of socks into the open drawer across his room. He missed. “I swear, sometimes you act ten years old.” His words were laced with annoyance but on his phone screen, Dream could see Sapnap smiling. He rolled his eyes. “Well, what do I do , Sapnap?” Instead of an answer, Dream was met with a change of scenery. His phone screen went to a close up of Sapnap’s face, to a blurry screen saying Paused. Sapnap had paused him to go to some other app on his phone.

“Chillax, and-” Dream’s frustration tipped over the edge.

“ Chillax is not a real word! Stop saying Chillax!” Dream groaned as another pair of socks missed his drawer. “Okay, well, hurtful. I know you don’t mean that. And I’ve texted George.” Dream froze.

“You what?” His words were full of warning. Saapnap either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“I just texted him, just there!”

“Sapnap! What the fuck? What did you even say? Oh my god, why would you do that?” Dream was cut off by a telltale ding emitting from his phone. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move.

“I heard that!” Sapnap’s singsong taunt came from Dream’s screen.

George (10:48 am)

Cool

“Anything to say?” In FaceTime, Sapnap’s face was getting too close to the camera. Dream had to suppress his smile, he had to deal with George.

“Yeah, fuck you. And George says it’s cool.”

“Fuck you do, Dreamie-Weemie, Sapnap works his magic again!” Dream let his smile pass through, barely. Begrudgingly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sapnap was laughing as he hung up the phone. Dream was left alone with George’s text. He figured it was polite to reply.

Dream (10:49 am)

Sorry for not texting you myself

George’s reply was whizzing through the air in seconds

George (10:49 am)

its fine

Despite his common sense, Dream found himself replying. Every time George texted a reply, no matter how dry, how unenthusiastic, he kept trying to keep the conversation going. Eventually, he all but forced George out of his virtual shell.

Even as he was getting into Sapnap’s truck over an hour later, his face was stuck in his phone, in the conversation he had coaxed George into.

George (12:09 pm)

iron man will always be the best superhero. the whole mcu was built on his back that's just common sense

Dream (12:09 pm)

You sound like a nerd

George (12:10 pm)

well dont be rude

Dream (12:10 pm)

ughhh you sound like bad

You’d probably love him actually

George (12:11 pm)

Dream?

Dream didn’t think before replying

Dream (12:11 pm)

yeah ?

George (12:11 pm)

you know me and bad are like good friends

Dream ignored his burning cheeks as he got out of Sapnap’s truck and approached the soccer team. He had not known that.

The team were ready to go, as usual. They were dedicated kids. Dream had them running laps once he put his bag, and phone, in the changing room.

They were midway through a practice match, half of the team versus the other half, when Dream noticed him. George was leaning on the edge of the fence surrounding the pitch. He was early.

For Dream, an audience didn’t change his performance. He was good, he was always good. Behind all the training and technique was pure talent. A lot of the time, other players’ would bring along their girlfriends or some of their friends to hang around the training. Dream couldn’t have given less of a shit.

But there during that practice match, Dream felt something new. He hadn’t felt it at the State Championship. He hadn’t felt it when the scouts were analysing him. He hadn’t even felt it in his first-ever game back when he was 6 years of age. It was a kind of pressure, light and inconsequential. It was George’s eyes on him.

Normally when he was playing, there was a kind of understanding. The scouts knew he was good, the girlfriends and parents, the friends and families, the teachers, the coaches, even the other teams. They all knew Dream was good. They all expected him to play well. George was different. George didn’t give a shit what Dream was doing. He barely glanced at him. Somehow, the boy was more interested in his phone than Dream’s quest towards a hat trick.

He didn’t mind it, not really. It was just new. It was as if someone had gotten inside his mind and moved all the furniture ten centimetres to the left. If anything, he appreciated it. It kept him on his toes, gave him something to prove. It was another chance to see if he could up his game. Anytime he felt George’s eyes on him, it made him run faster, kick further, push harder.

The time went quick, and before long it was all over. Dream’s team had pummeled Sapnap’s, except for one goal. Sapnap had seen Dream’s weakness, he had stolen the ball right from under Dream when he was glancing over to see if George was looking.

After the handshakes, the water mixed with good-natured teasing, the lightening speed showers, Dream was left alone. His hair was dripping onto the hoodie he had pulled on. He was the last one in the changing room, he always was.

He told everyone it was because he was the captain. If anyone ever needed to talk, there was a sure place they could catch him alone. All they had to do was run back, claim a forgotten boot or hat, and he’d be there.

That was a part of it undoubtedly. But, if you stripped the layers back, peeled Dream’s skin away to look down at his pulsing core, you’d have seen privacy above all else. He kept to himself, minded his business. Other than Sapnap and Bad, no one fully knew him. And even that was pushing it. Sapnap and Bad knew the version of him that he showed. They saw some bad bits, but they’d never see the Dream that he hid.

They wouldn’t know the Dream that scrolled through Instagram on a Sunday night. They’d never know the Dream who cried when his toast got burned on a particularly stressful morning.

They saw him, the real him, but only the entertaining parts. They saw the anger and the tears, the elation and the subsequent fall, but they never saw him be boring.

If someone’s boring, they can be left. It’s easy to leave someone you don’t care about, and it’s easy to not care about someone boring.

So Dream let them see him, the real him, but only when it was entertaining. No one saw him alone in his room, watching podcasts on YouTube and folding his washing. That was the kind of person it was easy to leave. He couldn’t be that.

He kept it all to himself, the parts that didn’t fit into the Dream personality. Anything that didn’t match ‘State Champion Captain’. Anything that didn’t scream ‘Golden Boy’ was for his eyes only. No one can ruin something they don’t know about.

Dream was able to change his clothes quickly. He brought his body wash from home and he didn’t wash his hair. But, apparently, he wasn’t fast enough. Before he had his shoes back on, George was barging in, Sapnap trailing behind him.

“Sorry, I did try and stop him.” The grin on Sapnap’s face told a different story. Dream just rolled his eyes, grabbing his gear bag and leaving. They didn’t follow him out the door, but the room echoed. He could hear talking, mainly Sapnap.

“Wherever you guys end up going today, can you keep an eye on Dream? The adrenaline from training hypes him up too much. He might say something stupid and get punched.”

It was nice, to hear such solid proof that Sapnap knew him in the best way Dream would let him, that he cared so loudly.

“Oh, I get to see Dream being punched?”

George promptly snapped Dream out of his appreciation. Before Dream could move away from the door, they were walking on top of him. George’s smile dropped when he saw Dream eavesdropping, but Sapnap’s got bigger. He swiped for Dream. Despite Dream’s aching legs and exhausted lungs, he managed to dodge. Before Sapnap could swipe again, he was jogging towards the truck.

While Sapnap chased him, screaming about his stalker tendencies, George looked away, following slowly behind them. He had the decency to blush, slightly. Maybe manners weren’t completely dead just yet. Sapnap said his goodbyes before Dream could beg for a lift. He said he had ‘ errands to run ’. Which errands fell on the shoulders of an 18-year-old boy, Dream didn’t know.

Suddenly, it was all real. It was just George and Dream, staring at each other on an empty soccer pitch. Any words Dream tried to force out died in his throat. These were uncharted waters, George and him alone and civil.

To be George’s enemy was easy, but this new thing. This budding acquaintanceship. It was more complicated. It was so much easier to just go back to how it was, bitter and stinging. It was like a wound that had scabbed over, and Dream could never resist picking at a scab.

“Why are you here, George?” His tone was harsher than he intended, a cold contrast to the playful banter he had with Sapnap. Dream tried to ignore the split second of hurt he could see on George’s face.

“Sapnap got the time wrong.” George’s face was closed off again quickly. Dream felt guilt knocking at the door of his morality. He turned the key in the lock, determined to keep it out.

“Oh.” Dream hoped George couldn’t read minds. Because if he could, he would be able to see the way Dream’s conscience was floundering. This vague hatred was a lot less comforting when alone with someone.

Before Dream could ponder on George’s telepathic capabilities for too long, he was walking away. George’s back had turned on him.

Before Dream could make his protests known, George had turned his head in Dream’s direction.

“Come on, it looks like rain.” Dream glanced up, the sky was clear. He didn’t mention it. Instead, he followed George as he walked to the bus stop.

George took him to a café. It was a small place, quaint and cosy. The outside was a murky turquoise with glass panes everywhere. A pretentious coffee house. Dream thought it was a bit on the nose, even for George.

A tip jar was knocked over while George was ordering their drinks. Dream could hear the harsh clatter from the isolated table he had snagged them in the furthest corner. George’s face was burning red when he sat down with his americano and Dream’s hot chocolate, no marshmallows extra cream.

While George retrieved his things from his shoulder bag, folders, paper, pens, Dream started to think about the assignment. They were more complicated than they seemed, the speeches and the boys. The speeches had to have a five-page accompanying essay to explain how cooperation was beneficial, and to support all the points made in the five-minute speech. That was a page per speaking minute, if Dream’s maths was correct.

He tried to think, to plan how to go about it all. It was harder than he had expected. Most of what they had done the first day had turned out to be useless, upon Dream’s inspection when he got home. Before he could reach his epiphany, George was tearing him away from his introspection.

“I swear, if you keep doing that, I’m going to sew your eyelids to your kneecaps.”

Dream looked blankly at him, frozen in his confusion. George didn’t lessen up.

“Tapping your pen against the glass. Stop it.”

Dream hadn’t even realised he was doing it, an old nervous habit. Or it would have been, if Dream was the kind of person to get nervous.

He and George sat there, staring at each other. George didn’t look as embarrassed as Dream wanted him to. Dream didn’t look as sorry as George wanted him to.

“Please.” George looked like he had to force the word out of his mouth. The same George as always. Dream rolled his eyes, but he put down the pen.

“So,” Dream started them off. He was past the stage of letting any awkwardness seep in. “The speeches.” It took George a second to catch up, his mind was still at the counter where he had picked up all the coins individually.

“The speeches.”

The place to start seemed obvious to Dream,

“Tell me about yourself.”

George looked up at him, curious eyes and slouched spine. One of his eyebrows, just one, shot up. Dream rushed to clarify.

“I mean, for the speech. So I can write the speech.” George’s face didn’t change with the explanation. It was still staring at him from across the shitty coffee table. His brow was furrowed and his smile was appearing out of nowhere, slowly. Dream hated it. It was all so jarringly new, having someone in front of him who he couldn’t read.

George had this new kind of power over him. He’d felt it during the soccer training but here it was so much clearer. In the air between them, Dream was sure it would suffocate them both, that mantra of ‘what is he thinking ’, over and over. A constant roar. He was certain George could feel it too, he was giving himself away.

This wasn’t how Dream was meant to act. Dream was confident and collected, funny and commanding. Dream was the captain of the state goddamn champion team. Dream wasn’t on the edge of his seat, waiting to hear what George was going to say.

Before Dream could think himself off a cliff, George was breaking in.

“I fold my socks.” It seemed like a simple thing, but it stopped Dream mid-thought. It disarmed him completely.

Later, he would realise it was the idea that George did things that Dream didn’t know about that had caught him so off-guard. It was the realisation that Dream didn’t understand him as well as he thought he did, that he hated someone he barely knew.

From there, it got easier. George knew all the words to Doja Cat’s “Say So”. Dream had accidentally become a bit of a Barb, a title he had to explain to George, after his sister went through a Nicki Minaj stage. George pirated films from the internet. Dream had been leeching off his aunt’s Netflix for years. Dream thought zodiacs were stupid, but he always found himself looking his up. George loved astrology. They both liked the stars.

George proved Dream’s hypothesis from their meeting, the one held the previous week in Sapnap’s house. George was actually funny, and Dream didn’t mind being around him.

Eventually, George noticed the barista’s eyes shooting them daggers. Apparently, ordering a hot chocolate and an americano is not enough to warrant an hour of sitting time. They had to leave. George shouldered his bag and nudged Dream. He was trying to suppress his smile. It was all so different to the George Dream had known.

“Come on, let’s go.” He was already standing. Dream nodded up at him.

“Better to leave than to get kicked out.” George’s smile lessened.

“Is it?”

They walked through the streets, excited in a boring place.

They ended up in front of one of the city’s deserted playgrounds. No one wanted their kids to play somewhere you could find needles. Once he saw the empty swing set, Dream was running. George was zipping quick behind him.

Once they were on a swing set together, the competition was inevitable. Dream was swinging higher than George, but George was trying his best to dispute that.

Dream was throwing his full body weight into the swing, feeling his heels skitting along the floor, his legs careening through the air. He figured this must be what it feels like to fall, to jump. This floating feeling in his stomach, the lurch of it all. It must be what it feels like to fly.

George’s gleeful shrieks covered up the warning creaks of the rusty swing set. Dream wasn’t used to this kind openness around him. It was all so new, the giddiness. He tried to shift his swing into George’s path, the way his sisters used to when he was a few years younger. He got a slight kick in the back in response, but it was enough to dethrone him. He was left sprawled on the floor, George cackling behind him.

The time went too fast. Before long, they had tried everything in the playground. Dream was too tall for half of them, but he tried anyway. When he had stood on the swings, trying to copy George, he had banged his head on the bar supporting them. He could walk while doing the monkey bars.

They were back on the swings before long, swaying more than swinging. George was trying to make his swing work without any movement from him. Dream’s swing was drifting left and right. He didn’t do anything to put it back on the straight and narrow.

Dream’s mind was eating at him. The logic of it all didn’t add up. This was George, George , and George hated him. So why was he here, an hour over their mandatory time, on a rusty set of swings with him. Having fun, together.

“George?” The chains of the swing crossed over each other, trapping Dream between them. He threw his body weight the opposite way to free himself. A slow final battle.

“Dream.” George was looking at him, the same way he had been back in the café. All open eyes and open heart. Dream hated it.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question, Dream couldn’t bare a question. He just said it, hoping George understood.

George hummed in response, eyes locked on his shoelaces.

“I don’t.”

And that was it, that was what Dream was afraid of. This was skydiving without the parachute, he was freewheeling. Here he was vulnerable, here he was showing a soft spot. It was weakness.

He had always hated George, since age ten. And the reason, the pit of it all, it had always been because George hated him first . And George had kept hating him, for the last eight years. Without that, there was nothing there. Their hatred was the only thing binding them. But, it was apparently one-sided.

“Oh.” It was strangled. It was all Dream could manage.

“I could never do it.” George was still looking at him, unreadable. Always so unreadable.

“What?” Dream couldn’t look back at him. His eyes were locked on the soft ground below him. His voice was too strained.

“Hate you.” George’s voice showed no strain at all.

Dream hated the muffled ‘ Hmm ’ that left his throat in response. He didn’t understand how George could just say it.

Dream swung wordlessly, back and forth. Before the words had even entered his brain they were bubbling out of his mouth.

“Same.” It wasn’t eloquent, but George’s face showed that he understood. He had never hated him, not truly. Not in the real way, the irreversible way.

They were quiet then, just swinging together. George’s voice broke through the blanket of sedative still.

“You’re definitely not how I thought you were.”

Dream jumped at the opportunity.

“How did you think I was?”

George thought Dream was cocky. All he did was talk shit, and he could never back it up. Dream was quick to point out the two-state champion trophies his team had one, but George shook his head.

“No, not like that. I mean like, outside of sport.”

He was loud in class, talking over the quiet kids. And he never smiled at strangers in the halls. He never had his homework done on time, and he never got in trouble for it. He was mean, rough around the edges. George didn’t say cruel, but Dream could hear him thinking it.

He had figured that was what George thought he was - tough, angry, mean. But his edges weren’t that worn yet, he hadn’t learned enough to be tough.

He wanted to climb inside George’s skull and rearrange the pieces, sort it all out. It was true, a lot of what George said, but he wasn’t cruel. He was never cruel. He didn’t mean to talk over people, he was excitable. He didn’t notice the people in the halls, or the favouritism from the teachers

Above all, George thought he was fake. The act he put on, the loudness and confidence. He didn’t believe it.

Dream had thought the same about George. Alongside elitist, pretentious and stuck up. Also, plainwell rude. George listened as he explained it all.

“I just thought you thought you were like-” Dream looked up at the sky, letting his legs tilt-up above his body. He could feel blood rushing to his ears. “I don’t know. Like you acted like you were better than everyone else.”

George snorted. Dream’s head snapped towards him, incredulous.

“Kettle calling the pot!” George was smiling despite it all. It made Dream laugh as well.

“Actually though, why don’t you ever get involved? Like, ever.” Dream sat back up properly on his swing.

George just shrugged.

“I'd feel safer facing off a fucking pack of wolves." George’s voice was quiet, heading straight towards the ground. His feet kicked against the dirt. The swing wobbled.

Dream didn’t say anything, he didn’t think it was his place. He had never thought anything like that, it had never crossed his mind. He was Dream, being self-conscious wasn’t in his DNA. He wouldn’t have been able to bare it, the separateness of it all. He wouldn’t have been able to look in through the window at school life from the outside. But the way George was talking, muted and thoughtful, it made him want to understand.

Before he could think up a response, George was nudging his ankle.

“Come on, we should go. Before the sun sets.” George got up, started to collect his things.

Dream hadn’t noticed the shortening Autumn sunsets. He grabbed George’s sleeve.

“Watch,” he breathed, sacred. George’s limbs slowed, sinking him back to his swing.

Together, they watched the sun setting. The airy blues fading to dusty pinks, heavy orange. Before the sky was black, George was dragging Dream with him, mutters of Well, I’m not going to get mugged tonight Dream.

They ended up in the library, underused and underfunded.

Dream followed him inside, straight past the glaring librarian and up the stairs. He wasn’t used to it, following someone. Especially not George. But he knew the way and Dream didn’t, so he walked quietly behind him.

They turned a corner, and there they were. They were standing in a long corridor of computers, old and dusty. Dream wasn’t sure if it counted as a corridor, there was a wall at the other end, where the other opening should have been. There were long continuous desks on the two walls, and a computer every meter. They made the room thin enough to make them have to stand single file. He was practically standing on top of George, his toes brushing against George's heels.

Out of nowhere, George turned towards him. Dream flinched more than he would’ve wanted. They were left there, in the silence, George staring straight at him. Dream was a deer in headlights. He didn’t dare to move. They were barely inches apart.

“Dream, the door.” George’s voice was raspier in a whisper. His face was so close, Dream swore he could count the boy’s freckle. His lungs were burning, he had forgotten to keep breathing. “Dream?” George’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Right. Yes. The door.” He spun around, reaching for a doorknob to shut them inside the one ended corridor, but he was met with an empty space. There was no door. He heard George sigh in frustration. Dream felt his ears burning, he hated it.

“There’s no door.” He whispered it into the silence in front of him. George laughed, muted and soft.

“Here, show.” George tried to worm his way past Dream to get to the door, but the corridor was too narrow. His elbows banged into Dream’s gangly limbs, his knee hit the desk. His whispered shit came at the same time as the bang. They both froze, ears straining for any kind of ‘shhhh’ coming from downstairs. Nothing came. Either they both had bad hearing, or they were in the clear.

George managed to shove his way past a blushing Dream, where he easily grabbed the sliding glass door.

“Bullshit,” Dream muttered as George came back down the corridor towards him. George’s small, airy laugh accompanied the sound of Windows 8 booting up.

“Come on, get a seat. We’re under time pressure. I didn't expect you to be here for this.” One of the old computers was loading up a chess website.

“Wait, explain what’s going on now so you don’t have to midway through-” Dream paused. He didn’t know if whatever George was doing actually had a midpoint. “- midway through whatever you're doing.” Dream ignored George’s rolling eyes.

“Speed chess. Chess plus speed. Not hard to figure out Dreamer.”

Dream didn’t think George had noticed his quiet nickname, it made his heart stutter.

“Speed chess?” Dream looked at the screen. Rightfully so, there was a chessboard on it.

“Speed chess.” George pressed start.

Dream watched the pieces move, whizzing across the screen. It was like soccer, the speed of it all. The pace. Dream loved the quickness. Before he could catch his bearings, there was a banner on the screen and a smiling George was talking.

“So, that’s speed chess. But now I have to play an actual game. Against an actual person. It’s a tournament, every week. Normally it’s after school, but it got moved this week. And, Dream, I swear to god if you ruin this for me-” Dream cut him off before he could finish the thought. He knew George well enough now to know where it was going.

“I know, I know, you’ll kill me, no one will ever find my body, blah blah blah.” Dream ignored the way his heart lit up when George laughed.

George logged in and hit start.

Dream didn’t know anything about chess, he had never played and he never planned to. But he didn’t need to be a genius to tell that after a minute, George was losing. It was the furrow of his brow, the frown line set in his skin. It gave him away.

"You...do not look happy." Dream didn’t know how to help him, but judging by George’s gritted teeth, commentary was not the way to go.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Before another minute had passed, there was a banner on the screen pointing out George’s loss. The ‘ Better Luck Next Time, Player!’ didn’t feel very sincere to Dream.

One glance at George and it was clear he was disappointed.

“Sorry, George.” Dream lowered his eyes from the screen. It felt disrespectful to even look at the message of pity. George shrugged his shoulders, shook out his hands.

“It’s okay, I have another game. I just can’t get a perfect score now, so I probably won’t win this time” His voice was dejected. It made Dream want to help him.

“Well, I mean, don’t be sad. Just, like, turn it off. Change it to anger.” George looked at Dream, brow furrowed again.

“Dream? That’s not, that’s not normal.” Dream froze. This was it, he was giving himself away. He wanted to reach out and scoop the pieces of him that he'd let out back between his ribcage. He didn’t want George to know about the switches and levers inside him, the careful calculation of his personhood.

Instead, he laughed lightly.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t explain it very well-” Before he had to think up some other way to explain his inner workings, George was distracted. Another game was starting. Dream didn’t feel upset for the distraction.

The more Dream watched him play chess, the more he wanted to understand chess. The only thing he had to go off of was George’s closed face. As far as Dream could tell, he wasn’t doing well. The stitch of the skin next to his eye gave that away.

George’s mutterings of ‘ Shit ’, ‘ Fuck ’ and the classic ‘ Godamn it ’ also helped Dream reach his conclusion. George didn’t leave much up to the imagination.

Just as Dream was about to make his condolences known, all the stitches and the lines disappeared. George’s eyes widened then creased, and then out of nowhere the banner was back on the screen.

Except that time, it read ‘ Congratulations, Player!’

Dream couldn’t keep it in.

“Fucking clutch, bro!” George laughed at the congratulations.

“Careful Dreamer, you’re inner frat boy is showing.” He was grinning, giddy with the excitement of it all.

Dream tried to ignore the way the nickname froze his brain for a second, how every neuron stopped in their tracks to drink it in.

George got up from the chair. His smile was subtle but he couldn’t hide the energy, Dream could see him balling up and releasing his fists. He was just as excited as Dream at the win, just in a different way.

“Come on. I’m not playing anymore, plus I have to be home before my mother thinks I’ve been kidnapped.” Dream hadn’t thought about what his mother would say when he got home.

The guilt he felt, vague and untouchable, at being five hours late was pushed to the back of his mind the second it entered.

As Dream stood up, he felt his leg tangled between the chair and table. But it was too late. The second he pushed himself up he went careening back down to the floor. Before he knew what was happening, he was sprawled on his back, face on the dusty carpets. Instead of getting the sympathy he expected, George was standing above him, trying his best to contain his howls of laughter.

Dream cracked before he did. They stayed together, Dream lying flat on his back and George leaning against the desks, trying to muffle their shrieks.

Eventually, the librarian was standing above them. Dream wanted to say she looked more disappointed than mad, but she didn’t. She just looked mad. It was always so much harder not to laugh when you weren’t allowed to.

Dream tried his best to keep it in as she escorted them out but he didn’t stand a chance. The second he saw George’s foot catch on the last stair, he was a goner. George said only bats could have heard the frequency Dream reached when George fell.

Dream was like a tea kettle, crouched down next to George. George himself was a mirror of Dream in the computer room, sprawled on the floor, letting out sounds between groaning and snorting.

The difference was this time they had a stern librarian right next to them, shaking her head.

Eventually, the boys managed to bring themselves to their feet and stagger towards the door. Everything was setting them off.

“Shhh, boys.” Her voice was stern. Dream howled into George’s ear. He was leaning on the other boy to keep from collapsing.

“We’re already fucking leaving.” It was breathed into George’s ear - just for him to hear. There were tears brimming. George snorted, calling out to the woman at the desk behind him.

“Sorry Dorothy,” Dream’s wheezing upon hearing her name didn’t do their sincerity any favours.

“We’re leaving, we’re leaving!” The second they got out onto the library steps they were heaving. George had to sit on the step, he was in stitches.

It took them a while to calm down, for the giddiness to dissipate. The cold was a big help, as was the dark.

After they calmed down, Dream looked at him. He was slouched against the library wall, hair messy and cheeks red. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back against the stone. The calm that filled him up when he was around George, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a regular thing. It compelled him.

“I’m sorry.”

George’s eyes opened to look at him, still smiling.

“Huh?” The way his head tilted to the side reminded Dream of the dog he had when he was younger.

“I’m sorry, for hating you.” George shook his head at Dream’s sudden apology.

“You don’t have to be.” But Dream still was, in every inch of his body. He wanted to take it all back, the years of bitterness. Even if it was replaced with nothing, it would take away his guilt.

George went home, and then Dream went home. The second he was in the door his mother was lecturing him. It all went in one ear and out the next The moment Dream’s head hit the pillow, it was a gearbox. There were new parts, cogs turning and wheels spinning. Dream couldn't stop thinking about it all. And, above all else, was the nickname. George had called him ‘Dreamer’. It was immortalized, cast in amber by his mind.

The next Monday, there was a routine soccer training after school. It was two days after Dream’s adventure in café’s and swing sets and speed chess but that day was still burned into the forefront of his mind. He was with Sapnap, doing a slow drill together, just passing the ball while they waited for the rest of the team to get changed. Dream decided it was time to let him deeper into his brain.

“Sapnap.” Sapnap passed the ball back to him gently.

“Dream.” He was smiling at him, always smiling.

“I have to tell you something.” Dream didn’t like the way his voice sounded. Sapnap and sombreness didn’t go together.

“Famous last words!” Sapnap had proven Dream right, he was still smiling at him.

“Well, I’m kind of- I’m making friends with someone. But I don’t know how you’ll react to who it is.” Sapnap was still smiling.

“Come on, dude. Just rip the plaster right off!” Sapnap jumped up and down on the spot, waiting for Dream to pass the ball. Dream passed it.

“It’s George.” Sapnap’s face didn’t change, but it froze.

“Put the plaster back on!” Sapnap kicked the ball, more towards Dream’s head than his feet.

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dream #dream smp #georgenotfound #dream/george #dreamxgeorge #rpf

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benditlikepress · 4 years

Text

to be with you

my contribution for @talisbirthdaychallenge including 5 of the prompts! as always for my big love @justkindaoverhereobsessing <3

Read here on AO3

The first thing Tony was aware of when he woke up was something poking at his nose.

He opened one eye to find it still pitch-black outside, but before he could adjust to the lack of light something poked him again. A weight on his chest. And then, finally, a little scratch on his cheek.

"Hey, get outta here. This is our bed, not yours."

He tried to pull the blanket over his head but soon realised the weight he could feel on his chest was actually the full weight of the cat, tangled in the sheets, looking for his attention.

"Yours is over there! Do you see me climbing all over it? Hm?"

The cat pressed his forehead against Tony’s hand harshly, looking for attention, and Tony sighed as he relented into giving him a stroke.

By the time the cat got sick of that and began to try to worm his way under Tony’s arm onto the bed, he realised that the bed was empty (save for four-legged exceptions). Before he had time to react he heard some kind of mechanical noise coming from the kitchen. Checking the time with a sigh he stumbled to his feet, fending off cat paws, to investigate.

He pulled a sweater over his head as he exited the bedroom, soon realising that what he could hear was the unmistakable sound of an electric whisk at nearly 1 in the morning.

Ziva was stood at the countertop, surrounded by paper bags and measuring apparatus. The electric whisk had just been abandoned, metal prongs sticking up in the air. Her hair was tied messily up away from her face and she had one hand on her hip: he could only imagine the expression on her face as she stared down the mixing bowl in front of her.

He approached her from behind and wrapped his arms briefly around her waist - evidently she'd heard him coming, as her only reaction was to place her hands over his own and squeeze them before he pulled away.

"Sorry, did I wake you? I thought you were asleep."

"Nope. Somebody had other plans."

“What’s wrong?”

“Simba just started poking me for being asleep on my own pillow. Remind me who’s bright idea it was to get a cat?”

“Yours.”

“C’mon, I can’t be blamed for that. Tali knew I was half-asleep when she asked.”

Tali had been bugging Tony for a cat pretty much since she’d learned how to speak English. They'd compromised on adopting an older cat, on the understanding that they sleep most of the time. Tony, of course, hadn't realised that by 'sleep most of the time', Simba would mean 'sleep on your pillow most of the time'. He wasn’t sure why he got singled out for that kind of special treatment.

“She is a master manipulator as well as a 5-year-old, yes?”

“6-year-old, as of… 47 minutes ago.”

"I cannot believe how fast time has passed."

“I know. We don’t even look old enough to have a 6-year-old.”

The amused look Ziva gave him encouraged an instinctive grin on his face, but when his cheeks moved he thought he felt a tinge of soreness from where the cat had been clawing at him. He lifted his hand to it.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Tony felt over his cheek before Ziva dragged his hand away, moving his face and holding it to the light. He couldn’t help but smile again in spite of the pain when she pressed a kiss over it and scrunched her face affectionately as she let go.

"You are being dramatic. I think it is a sign he loves you."

"Yeah, I'll bet. What are you doing up, anyway?"

“Yoga.” Ziva pulled a quick, sarcastic expression and looked pointedly at the mixture in the bowl in front of her. Tony dipped his finger in the bowl and licked it clean.

The slap to the back of his head probably should've been expected.

"You aren't allowed to do that."

"Gibbs gave me permission when we spoke earlier."

"You spoke to him?"

"Yes. He has finally worked out Zoom. Or at least he has found somebody to set it up for him.”

"What did he want?"

"To wish Tali a happy birthday. And for me to give you that."

"Sure he did."

Ziva raised her eyebrows in challenge, not backing down as she tipped some baking powder into the bowl and stirred it. Tony cracked first, laughing a little in disbelief until she looked away with satisfaction.

"Y'know, we ordered a cake."

"I know. But it is not coming until the evening. I thought it would be nice to have a small one to have with lunch."

"I never saw you being such a pushover."

"I am not - she didn't ask."

"So you're just a soft touch, then."

"Perhaps. I just want everything to be perfect tomorrow."

"It's today, technically. But it will be. I know it sucks we can't do everything we'd want to, but she's been spoiled like hell."

"It is our first birthday all together. I want it to be a memorable one."

"It will be."

She smiled a little at his insistence, and he could see that this was something she wanted to do for innocent reasons rather than because a burden of guilt at missed birthdays was hanging over her. Her eyes were bright and there was a lightness to her expression, so easily accepting his words.

"My mother used to stay up the night before our birthdays making cake like this. Tali used to always pretend she needed a glass of water to try and catch her in the act."

"I know who our Tali takes after, huh?"

"As if you would not be exactly the same, too."

"Well, that's true. Whereas you would never.”

“Absolutely not. Sometimes I would follow Tali when she woke up to see what she was doing, but that was just a coincidence.”

“Of course.” Ziva refocused on stirring the mixture with a frown as Tony thought about what she’d said. “Girl after my own heart, huh?”

“Oh yes. The two of you would have been quite the pair.”

“You think she’d have liked me?”

“That is an understatement - I can picture her talking about you. Harassing me about you, rather. Asking me why I have not married the handsome American yet.”

“Why haven’t you?”

"I think that is a question I could direct straight back at you."

"Well, if she really wanted to know. I'd say.. it's coming."

"It is, is it?"

"Mhmm."

"It only took us 15 years to get this far."

"I'm gonna go on record and say it won't be another 15."

"Noted."

A charged look passed between them, neither of them quite willing to be the first to look away. Tony eventually guided Ziva's eyes back to the cake mix and she went back to work, swallowing a smirk.

“So surprise cake is the David birthday tradition, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“There a reason I didn’t get one, or..?”

“In spite of popular opinion, you are not, in fact, a child.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ziva chuckled as she continued to stir the mixture, speeding the movement suddenly as though she’d seen something Tony hadn’t. He yawned at the sight of the physical exertion, drawing Ziva’s attention back to him.

“You’re tired. Go back to sleep, I am fine in here.”

“Where? The damn cat’s stolen my pillow.”

“Sleep on my side of the bed for now.”

“What use is your side of the bed if you’re not in it?”

Ziva went to sass him and then stopped as a smile invaded her face.

He pulled at her arm to turn her to face him and she dropped what she was holding onto the counter, wrapping her hands around his neck as he hungrily kissed her. He could feel the faint powdery residue of something like flour transferring from her fingers to the base of his hair but couldn't bring himself to be bothered as her tongue made its way into his mouth.

"You can be quite the charmer, Tony DiNozzo."

"It's what I do best.”

"I'm not so sure about that. Right now you are doing a great job of distracting me."

"Sorry, sorry. What can I do to help?"

"Maybe.. do you think this looks right?"

Tony looked down at the bowl Ziva was now holding in front of him, picking the mixture up with the spoon and allowing it to drop back down. He studied it for a few seconds, brow furrowed, before shrugging.

"I have no idea."

"I could not tell you the last time I baked anything. I am so out of my depth."

"I can't believe we were stuck inside for 2 months and neither of us learned to bake.”

"If you do not be quiet, I will tell you where this spoon is going to go."

“Someone’s got fighting talk at 1 in the morning.”

“What can I say – I am in a good mood.”

“Yeah?”

“It is Tali’s birthday, of course I am.”

He thought about telling her he’d worried about the opposite, particularly when he woke up alone, but he didn’t need to as he saw her register the look in his eyes and put a hand on his cheek.

“I know. I am feeling happy today, though. Happy to have made it here with you.” She waited for Tony’s reaction, continuing when she saw what he was certain was a twinkle in his eye. “I thought maybe I would struggle today. I had nose-marked it, actually, as something I might find difficult. But I am just feeling very.. grateful. To have you both.”

“That’s very sweet and I’m glad to hear it, but it’s actually ear-marked.”

“How reassuring it is that you never change, hm?”

He bent down to kiss her again and this time he felt her smile against his lips. She pushed him away lightly with the back of her hand on his chest as she picked up her phone and scanned through the recipe before looking back at the mess on the counter.

“This was a bad idea.”

“Come on, hey. We’re gonna do it and it’s gonna taste great. What’s next?”

“We need two cake tins.”

Ziva used the back of her flour-y hand to push hair out of her face, and Tony thought how attractive it was to see her like this. Maybe an opinion to save for another time, he added as an after-thought.

Evidently he lingered on it for too long, as Ziva's eyes got drawn back to him once again. This time she rolled her eyes, without a hint of malice. Seeing straight through him. "I do actually want to get this done, Tony."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were looking at me."

"OK, I'll look at the wall if that'll help you control yourself around me."

"You are so- just find the tins, please."

"Yes ma'am."

"You realise the quicker this is done, the quicker we can go back to bed."

"I'm counting on it."

Tony ducked down with a grin into the cupboard where he'd accumulated a strangely large amount of baking implements over the years, digging through boxes of muffin cases and rolling pins.

A noise from down the hall had them both stop in their tracks. Tony’s hands stilled in the cupboard as the footsteps got closer.

“What now?” Ziva hissed at him as he held his finger to his lips to quieten her. She put the bowl back on the counter and turned so her back was against it, covering some of the mess. Tony got to his feet next to her.

“Follow my lead.”

She nodded, confused, at his quiet, confident voice, and when Tali finally appeared at the doorway they both had a smile plastered on their faces.

“Hey baby, it’s way too late for you to be up.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Simba woke me up poking me in the face.”

“He likes your bed.”

“Uh-huh, I know he does. But I like it too.”

Usually something like that would make Tali laugh, but instead she rubbed her eyes with the toy she was holding in her hands.

Ziva had, discreetly, turned towards the oven to pre-heat it, but Tali noticed the movement and tracked her with a frown.

“What’s ima doing?”

“She’s.. doing a favour for the birthday fairy.”

“There’s no birthday fairy.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. Why hasn’t she got me anything on my other birthdays?”

“Because.. the birthday fairy only comes on your sixth birthday. It’s supposed to be a secret until you wake up.” Ziva eventually responded while shooting Tony a look.

“That’s not true.”

“OK, well, we’ll see in the morning, won’t we?” Tony took over at Ziva’s silent insistence, smile in place. “But in the meantime I think you should go back to sleep as quick as you can. Just in case there is a birthday fairy.”

Tali still looked sceptical, but eventually nodded. “Will you tuck me in?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight birthday girl.” Ziva bent down to kiss Tali’s forehead before Tony directed her back down the hall and into bed, where she got in without complaints and was fast asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The cake mix was heading into the tins when Tony got back, and he began licking the used spoon while Ziva watched him.

“What?”

“I am never listening to you when you say ‘follow my lead’ ever again.”

“She’s back in bed, isn’t she?”

“Oh yes, problem solved. Now we have to make something from the birthday fairy?"

#ncis #tiva #tiva fanfiction

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dianapana · 4 years

Text

SasuHina Month 2020- Day 6

Prompt - Crime Detectives

I woke up with the worst headache, as I try to move my hands to grip my temple to try to put some pressure on them and relief some of the pain I hear an incredibly loud sound that splits my head in two, my hands are met with resistance just inches away from my head. I fully open my eyes and the blinding light makes my head hurt even more; on reflex I try to move my hands again the sound comes back and everything just fucking hurts.

When I can finally keep my eyes open for more than 5 seconds without passing out, I look to my hands and see they are handcuffed together and to a sturdy iron table. I’m sitting in a similar chair and my legs are also tied to the chair. I raise my eyes further and find myself looking in a mirror.

I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I don’t remember how I got here. The last thing I remember is being home with my girlfriend Hinata. The thought of her unsettles me; if she was with me than, is she also here? Fuck I hope not. I don’t have much time to sort thought my thoughts because the door to the side opens and two men come in; one of them is dressed in a suit while the other has the usual police uniform on. They both sit down and stare at me for a moment before the one in the suit starts talking.

Do you know why you’re here son?” he looks almost smug, like me being here is doing it for him. I am instantly disgusted by him.

“No.” I say, my throat is dry and my voice sounds weird even to my ears. My head still hurts and everything is almost heightened; I’ve felt like this before so I know that I might have a slight concussion.

The man in the suit rolls his eyes at me and leans in closer. “Don’t try playing coy. This investigation is only procedure, if it weren’t for the paper work you’d be behind bars for a really long time punk.” There’s a light in his eye that tells me he’s enjoying belittling me.

“Why would I be behind bars? What is it that you think I did?” I feel like I am part of some really bad Tv show about corrupt officers. Talking about officers, the man in uniform hasn’t said a word. I turn to look at him and he looks back at me. Unlike the other man he isn’t smug. He looks serious and puzzled. He’s trying to figure me out. The fact that this is real and that I am being accused of a crime finally dwells on me and I’m not too proud to admit that I’m fucking scared. I’ve seen documentaries about how a shit ton of people go to jail on false accusations. That piece of information was just a fun fact my brain absorbed and saved for later to drop in a random conversation, I never thought I would relate to it.

“Murder. That is what you did. You killed someone in cold blood” The man in the suit spits out those words. I know I’ve gone pale; I see it in the mirror. The room is spinning and I can’t breathe. For the first time the one in the uniform speaks.

“Deep breath son you’ll pass out”

I am well fucking aware I will. But maybe that’d be better. Maybe I’ll wake up to see Hinata’s face inches away from my face, a worried look on her face ‘You were trashing in your sleep’ she’d say and I’d assure her it was a nightmare. I’d hold her closer and go back to sleep with her head over my chest and everything would be ok. But I breath, close my eyes and when I open them, I’m still here.

“Who do you think I…?” I can’t even say the word. A thought goes though my mind and I feel like I’ll pass out all over again “Hinata, is she ok?” I kind of regret my words the moment they leave my lips. She has nothing to do with this and I might have just linked her to something awful.

I look to the uniform man because I expect more honesty from him than from the one in the suit. He looks pained and fuck if that doesn’t scare me. I want to cry; I don’t even care that I’m in front of these two, possibly more people watching from behind the mirror or on security cams.

“That is private information.” The one in the suit says. I blink and expect him to laugh tell me he’s joking and tell me the name of whoever they think I killed. But he doesn’t we keep staring at each other like fucking idiots. This feels less and less like real life. What the heck does he mean ‘private information’ I don’t even get to know who they think I presumably killed?

“I think that’s enough Kuzo-san” the one in the uniform says “I’ll take it from here” the one in the suit wants to argue, I can tell but his phone rings at that exact moment, he answers and leaves without any further argument.

“This doesn’t look good for you. The dead body of a 45-year-old man was found in the trunk of your car.” I breath relieved; I know it’s weird at this exact moment to do that, but I’m just glad that it isn’t Hinata that died. Having no recollection of anything but being with her and then being accused of murder made my brain have some weird connections. I think back to what he said and I finally remember a very important thing.

“My truck was stolen about a month ago. I called the police and reported it. A few days later I bought another car. There’s a ton of evidence to show I haven’t used it in over a month. I don’t know when you found the body but I’m sure it got there long after my truck was stolen.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Are you able to tell me with which officer you spoke about your stolen truck?”

“Officer Iruka. I even came down to the police station, signed a form and places a written declaration.” The more I talk the more he relaxes. I’m glad the other one left; I have no idea who the man killed was but that guy just wanted to say the case is closed, in my opinion, he didn’t care if they solved it correctly.

The man gets up and leaves the room. I’m left alone and my thoughts go back to Hinata. How did I get here? I bet she’s scared out of her mind. Does she know I’m here? Was she with me? Are they accusing her of being an accomplice or some stupid shit like that? A few moments pass before the door opens again and I hear a voice screaming; all my senses are on edge. That was Itachi’s voice. I could always recognize him. I’ve never heard him scream. He’s always level headed even in the heated arguments we’ve had over the years.

The man in the uniform comes to the table but he doesn’t sit down; instead he walks around it and goes down to one knee and unties the rope around mt legs. His jaw is tight so I can only assume he’s clenching his teeth. “I checked your story out and it checks out” He says and unlocks my hands. “Even so we can’t let you go yet; no matter how fucking stupid this is. The other guy, he’s a crime detective hired by the victim’s family and apparently, he’s dead seat on you being the criminal. We won’t interview you any further for now. Your brother is out there you are allowed to talk to him. Get a lawyer kid; this will end fine for you but sadly it will take some paperwork and time”

He leads me from behind to the door; if I thought the room before was lighted this one is brighter than the fucking sun and my head still hurts like a bitch.

“Sasuke!” Itachi comes running to me but he’s not the one that hugs me; Hinata is. She was behind him all along. Her shoulders shake and I know she’s crying.

“I was so scared. This man comes to the house and knocks you out; I tell him that I’ll call the cops and he told me not to bother and showed me his officer badge. I’m sorry I got so scared I called Itachi to come” Her voice is small. Finally, thanks to her I know what happened but I’m more pissed now. The man dared come to our house.

“Is that how the police act nowadays? Break into people’s houses and accuse them of murder without having all the facts?” Itachi is the one talking and he’s questioning the man behind me.

“Is that what happened miss?” he addresses Hinata. She looks up at him and nods. He’s even more pissed now than before.

“I will need your statement. But first; is this the man?” he asks her and shows Hinata a picture of the man in the suit. Hinata nods once again. He sighs again and talks into the station on his shoulder.

“Cuff Kuzo-san. I’ll be there in a few” he turns back to us “after we finish with your official statement miss you are all free to go; but please don’t leave the city in the next 48h” I have no idea why this man in the suit would want to pin the crim on me but it seems he did a very poor job.

It takes Hinata about 5 minutes to give her statement; Itachi keeps rubbing his forehead and I can’t keep my eyes open for more than a couple seconds at a time. “It’s fucking frightening getting a call in the middle of the night from your girlfriend telling me that you got arrested or some shit” I bet it was.

“For the first about 5 minutes after I woke up in there, I kept thinking it was all a joke. We should swing by the pharmacy; I think I have a concussion”

Hinata comes back, her eyes are red and tired; all I want to do is go home and sleep; sleep while I hold her and not think about this shit. Criminal detectives my fucking ass. That dude is a phony and either doesn’t know how to do this fucking job or he had a hidden agenda against me for some reasons; who knows.

“Let’s go home and forget this ever happened.” Hinata says and takes my hand in hers. They are small and soft and warm. My mind goes back to those few moments when I thought it was her that had died and my heart felt like it had been swallowed by a black void. I look at her, now, trying to act strong for my sake. I look at Itachi; she called him crying just after the incident; I’m certain she has had it worse than I did in this time. I stop in my track and pull her to me in another hug. I love everything about her from her smell to her laugh and annoying addiction to cinnamon; from her eyes to her smile and the freckles she has on her chest. Since I woke up my head has been feeling fuzzy because of the concussion but just now I get a moment of clarity.

I let her go and kiss her nose. She offers me a small tired smile. She’s beautiful even tired and with her hair looking a mess; I notice she’s wearing the same shirt she was about to sleep in last night and jeans. There’s nothing in my mind now but her. I drop to one knee in the hallways of the police station and open my mouth to ask her to marry me but Hinata cuts me off.

“What are you doing?” she looks around, I assume people are looking at us but I don’t care. “Sasuke get up; this isn’t funny. I just want to get home” she extends her hand to me silently telling me again to get up. I take her hand but instead of getting up I turn it around and kiss the back of it.

“Hinata, will you marry me?” I ask her and she looks alarmed but it’s so fucking adorable.

“Jesus, Sasuke, what the hell. We’re in a police station after one of the worst nights of my life and you’re asking me to marry you? Are you for real right now?”

“He has a concussion” says Itachi somewhere in the fundal and Hinata’s eyes widen in concern.

“I’m not doing this because I hit my head. I’ve been thinking about it, how and when to ask, I’ve been carrying around with me the ring for about 2 months now always chickening out at the last moment. Bu now it felt right, I don’t know why. But I am ‘for real’ Hinata. I love you and I want you to be my wife. I want to spend all my life with you” her expression changes from disbelief to something I can’t really read but I hope is happiness; she’s tearing up.

“Of course, I’ll marry you, you big goof. Now get up” She pulls me to her and this time I go willingly. I kiss her and smile down at her.

“I’ve had that ring with me everyday for 2 months and couldn’t do it, and now that I did it, I don’t have the ring on me…I’ll give it to you when we get home. I promise”

What started out as the worst day ever ended up being the push, I needed to do what I had been afraid of; it put things in perspective. I thought asking her to marry me was frightening but the thought of her not being with me forever scared me even more. I look over my shoulder and see the man in the uniform and officer Iruka smile at me. Maybe I do own that stupid ass criminal detective something; but I’ll probably never admit that out loud. That fucker doesn’t deserve anything.

#sasuhina #sasuhina month 2020 #sh2020 #shmonth2020 #sasuke #hinata #sasuke uchiha #hinata hyuuga #naruto #fanfic #writer #diawrites #dia-story #sasuhina month

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1037

survey by joybucket

Do you have a vlog? No, but I’ve always thought it would be fun to start and maintain one. Just never got around to it because it’s so much work, from conceptualizing to shooting to editing; and idk if my humor will translate to the camera. Plus I hate being shot in public, so it would never work out for me.

If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? Yeah, a lot of times. It just looks like such a therapeutic outlet that I can sink my teeth into. Who knows, if I ever gain more confidence in the future I may just try making a video or two.

Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? AM. As much as I hated waking up early from ages 4-6, it was nice to be home by noon and it also made for good training for the rest of my years in school.

What are your favorite youtube channels to watch? Good Mythical Morning, several wrestling-themed channels for their weekly lists, and KBS for their Return of Superman clips. I have a lot of other subscriptions, but those are the main ones I’ve been tuning into lately.

Which relative(s) do you look the most like? I get my mom the most, but sometimes I’ll be told I look like my dad as well.

Have you ever watched a live birth video? I don’t think so.

Have you ever given birth? Definitely not.

Do you remember when the Internet was a new thing? That wouldn’t be possible as I wasn’t born yet and by the time that I was, the internet had already been around for a few years.

Do you remember Y2K? I was alive when it happened but barely conscious, so no. I was only 2.

How old were you when the year changed to 2000? I was 1, turning 2 that year.

What was your favorite childhood vacation? We didn’t have lots of vacations when I was a kid, because for most of the 2000s my parents were still busy saving up and climbing up their respective ladders at work. We only started to regularly go on vacations by the time I was around 11, when finances started to get easier to handle. That said, as a kid I really loved the time my parents would bring us to the local water park on weekends.

Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? As a teenager when hating pink and general girliness was cool, probably. I don’t wish for it now.

What's your birth order: oldest, middle, or youngest? I’m the eldest.

Do you fit the stereotype for whatever birth order you are? Idk what kind of stereotype you’re looking for, tbh. As much as I don’t really like tooting my own horn, I’ve heard firstborns are usually more intelligent than their younger siblings and I would attest to at least that lol

Have you ever worn overalls? Yup, though they aren’t the denim kind.

If you're a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I had just turned 10. I thought I was going to get it while I was still 9 (the signs had been showing for a while by then), but it ultimately came a month after my 10th birthday. Still, I was one of the rare cases in my family who had it at a lot younger.

Do you get cramps? I used to get leg cramps all the goddamn time as a kid, and they always came in the middle of the night. I don’t get them or any kind of cramps anymore, thankfully; and the only time I do is on my fingers when I don’t hold my chopsticks properly.

Is your mom mentally stable? I think there are definitely some things therapy could fix.

Is your dad a complete jerk to you? No, you’re referring to the other parent.

Where do you want to go on vacation next? Oh my godddddd, Thailand plz.

What is one place you want to visit before you die? Wrestlemania.

Has anyone ever committed suicide in your town, that you know of? A neighbor’s kid passed away a few months ago, but I didn’t know them.

What's your favorite type of crackers? Ritz Bits are where it’s at.

What's your favorite spice? Cumin.

Are you sensitive? Yeah. I’m a little soft and I tend to take a lot of things personally.

Are you intuitive? It wouldn’t be the first word I’d use to describe myself, but I guess I have my moments.

Are you spiritual? No.

Do you wish your life were easier? Um, if it was a legitimate option then yeah obviously.

What color hair did your first crush have? Black.

What was the name of your first crush? Andi.

Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? I don’t think I’ve heard of that site. If we’re talking of websites that host flash games or whatever it is they’re called, I always hung out on Y8 haha.

Do you remember your first email address? I didn’t anymore before encountering this, but this question made me automatically rack my brain and now I do remember and now I’m wincing as well.

Did you name your lego characters? I didn’t make any characters, I think. I just liked making towers.

What was/is your high school's mascot? Both my schools don’t have mascots.

What is/was your favorite class in high school? All the history classes we had to take under the social sciences umbrella; it was Philippine history for freshman year, Asian history for sophomore year; world history in junior year; and then unfortunately we made the switch to basic economics for senior year which was like ???? Why couldn’t we have gone all the way with history? Economics ended up being super boring lol.

Is college an adventure? It really was. I grew and learned so much in it and I couldn’t have spent the last four years in a better place and a better school.

Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? No.

If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse?

If applicable, what form of birth control do you use?

Who is your favorite cousin? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, who pretty much feels like my older brother and not a cousin at this point.

Do you look your age? According to most, no. I look a little younger than 22.

What's your favorite flavor of frosting? Chocolateeeeeeee.

Do you like toe socks? I’ve never had to wear those before so I don’t have an opinion.

Muffins or cupcakes? Cupcakes.

Have you ever had a bag stolen? I’ve had a wallet stolen, so kinda.

How old were you when you got your first phone? I was technically still 6 because I had an advanced celebration, but it was for my 7th birthday.

Are you ready for summer?!?! Now that I think about it I do want to go back to summer, just because it was such a vastly different – and a lot happier – time...

Is winter your favorite season? It probably would be if we had it.

How many people do you know who've said winter is their favorite season? Zero.

Are you unique in any way? I think everyone is.

Do you have any hidden talents? if there are any left, I’m not aware of them yet.

Has anyone said you and your mom look like sisters? Just about everyone, all the time.

Who was your best friend in high school? Gabie for the most part, but Angela was there as well.

What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Commercials creeped me out as a child, not a certain book or movie.

What song makes you cry? Usually it’s 26 by Paramore, but not always.

Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Yeah, I’ve told a couple of people.

How many teachers have you had crushes on? I think around three or four. Possibly more, but I don’t remember all too well as I’ve since discarded a lot of memories from my old school.

Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? Nah. I mostly stripped them of their clothes and broke their arms and legs, lol.

Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? Nope. I didn’t have enough dolls to do that, anyway. It wasn’t my toy of choice.

How old were you when you had your first kiss? I was 16.

Do you like church? Hell no.

Do you have scars from self-harm? You’d only be able to make them out if you knew I self-harmed, but I think they’re almost unrecognizable at this point.

Do you have cellulite? It’s only present if I tightly twist my skin.

How old were you when you started getting zits? Not sure, somewhere in the middle of high school. I’ve never had lasting problems with acne though; I only ever get one or two at a time and it happens like, once a year.

Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? Aside from hair growing in places? No, not really. It stayed the same.

Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? I’m a tad bit shorter, though for a time it seemed as if my growth spurt would lead me to overtake her.

Would you ever consider adopting a child? It’s not a personal choice of mine, but there could very much be situations in the far future where I would consider doing so. I’m not shutting that possibility down.

Who was your first roommate? I’ve never had one; I haven’t tried living on my own yet.

Have you ever had a teacher who was rude? So many.

Is your mom paranoid? Very much so. She shows some signs of OCD and her paranoia is reflected through that.

Do you trim your own hair? Not my hair, but I do this with my bangs.

Did your mom read you bedtime stories as a child? No. That’s one of the things I’ll change if I myself become a mom.

What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? Pirate, Tinkerbell, Daria, AJ Lee, Dora the Explorer, Sofie.

What was the name of the first pet that you loved? My first goldfish.

Did you have your own room as a child? Not until I was 10.

What color was your nursery? I wasn’t put in one. I shared a room with my parents and siblings until I was 10.

Did your parents know your gender before you were born? I think they waited it out until a few weeks before I was born.

What is your name (first and middle)? My first name is Robyn and my second is Isabelle; I don’t need to share my middle name.

What would you have been named if you had been born the opposite gender? They never thought about it, which is kinda disappointing because I do want to know what my other name could’ve been.

Do you like your name? I’ve ended up doing so, yes.

What would you name your children? I haven’t cemented decisions that far ahead. I have ideas for names, like Olivia, but they’re nothing absolute.

Do you exercise regularly? Nope.

Do you have a healthy BMI? No, I’ve always been a little underweight.

What is your favorite season? Wet/rainy.

Do you look like your mom? This is like the third time I’ve answered this within just this survey lol, yes I do.

What is the origin of your last name? Spanish/Portuguese.

What is the meaning of your first name? I’ve heard it means ‘fame.’ I just don’t feel like checking.

What month were you born in? April.

Do you share a birthday with anyone in your family? Nope. But my sister and one of my cousins share the same birthday, right down to the year.

Do you have a sweet tooth? Eh, it comes out every now and then but it’s not all the time. I definitely enjoy savory more.

What photo editing software do you use? None lol, photo editing is one of my Achilles’ heels.

Where do you buy most of your clothes? Tianggeeeeeeeees.

#survey #surveys

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sea-salted-wolverine · 3 years

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Okay so last week was a shitkicker and was literally so bad I spent the better part of the week trying to delude myself into thinking it was a good day. Like, we're talking, "the sun is shining and I'm here to see it so today is a good day" and "I'm having a bad day- fuck me I am not haveing a bad day- I'm having a good day- I'm not having a bad day". Denial is a powerful tool for mental health, apply judiciously. I get that everyone on earth is kinda having a shitty year but it feels like things just kinda escalated in my little corner

The 7th had a huge snow storm that brought traffic to a stand still. No one could leave the house and university class was online anyway. Batshit customer demanded to pick up her gear anyway. I drove in because I was the only person with keys to the shop that could get to the building. It took me a solid 2 hours going 15mph on the highway. The snow in the parking lot was up past the fenders of my truck. Crazy lady gets 10 out of 18 of her survival suits back but the other 8 still have holes in them because our only repair tech is also the only one who answers the phone or runs the computer or handles customers or cleans or disinfects anything or stores gear. I'll give you one guess who that person is.

Did you guess me? Good for you. Fun fact this was not the case in October.

Crazy lady swans off through the snowed in parking lot and because she cant find the exit, blasts straight through the ditch and onto the road.

I say fuck it and leave. I've been at work for 2 hours. I have made 24 dollars for my trouble. It takes me another hour to get home.

The 8th is Saturday and I'm supposed to be at work. No one can drive. There was another 10 8nches of snow last night. I say fuck work and go to dig out the plow truck. The canopy over the plow truck collapses as I walk out to clear the snow of it.

I do not scream.

My partner and I get the truck running and go plow people out of their driveways and then go do the shop.

We come back home and the heater doesn't work. We just spent most of last week frantically trying to limp the thing along because no heat at -20°F is in a word fucking unpleasant. At least now its 40 degrees warmer because if the snowstorm. We take it apart again. The house smells like diesel. The house smells like exhaust. The house is not cold because the wood stove can keep up at 20 above zero but it won't keep us through the winter.

There is no saving the oil heater. We need a new one.

Its 730 and neither of us have eaten. I start rice in the pressure cooker so I can throw a tasty bite on top and call it dinner and that dies too. Explosively.

Dinner is half cooked rice and microwaved curry.

Sunday is spent finding a way to stretch our increasingly thin budget to buy a new heater. Between us we actually have 2275$ and we will still cover the mortgage. Somehow. All our Christmas gifts will be hand made this year. The next thing that breaks will stay broken.

Monday, power outages due to snow storm. No wifi, no zoom meetings. Another 8 inches of snow. This is now more snow than my city gets for the full year.

My boss calls sobbing. The dog died. Joey, an 11 year old, 130lb mastiff with a tumor the size of a football on his liver has been her constant companion for at least 8 years. The pandemic has confused the bejesus out of him because while he loves the lock down and going out to play every hour or so he doesnt really like the concept of strangers in masks. Hes a guard dog and doesnt understand that men in masks coming into the shop are not here to kill mom they're wearing masks so they don't kill mom.

Mondays the shop is closed anyway and I spend it installing the new heater. It doesn't quite fit in the space the old heater came out of but its warm.

Tuesday, I go to work, everyone cancels class, I once again gently explain to a regular that eugenics is bad. I would like to curse him out. I cant. He drops a grand on scuba gear and leaves, talking about how great his trip to Mexico will be.

I do not scream.

A friend calls to ask how I'm doing. Not great. Yea, her niether. She asks if I want to go out to the backcountry with her over the weekend. I explain that my leg physically does not move and I'm downing copious amounts of advil to remain upright. The doctor sent me in for an MRI but has not yet called back. Plus I'm supposed to go to Valdez for the weekend and actually go diving. That I can do with limited use of my leg.

She says yikes, take it easy, take care of yourself, I love you.

I say, yikes, I'm tired of taking it easy, I wanna play, I love you too.

Hit me up if your plans open up and we can do something gentle on your leg. She says.

God yes. The cold woods away from people sounds like paradise. I dont even care that it will cause me rending physical pain to get there. I need a break.

Its Wednesday. I go to school. I get pulled over. Miraculously I dont get a ticket. I'm white female and conventionaly attractive, maybe not so miraculous. I rolled through a stop sign but I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford a ticket.

I get a text in class. One of the instructors who works with the dive shop has tested positive for covid. I haven't seen the man in 2 months. I needed a spare instructor but he was nowhere to be found. But hey, evidently that's a good thing.

I go to work. I vacillate between doing the job a 4 people and having nothing to do.

I go to the grocery store because I misjudged my last monthly grocery run and even though I'm increasing my exposure I'm out of cheese and tea damnit.

The store is packed. Pandemic who?

My partner and I haven't had a date nite in a while and this week has been shitty. I want a nice dinner. I pick up a couple boxes of the carton sushi which isnt terrible and is about as nice as I can justify on the new budget. I grab a gallon of milk and a few other things. I forgot my wallet in the truck and the cashier is chill and sets my stuff aside while I grab it.

I pay and take my stuff home and realize I left one of my bags at the store. No cheese or tea for me.

Thursday. 10am my phone goes off with an emergency alert. The govoner has grown a spine in light of recent elections and is instituting a voluntary lock down. My state has 500 new cases a day. That might not sound like a lot but theres only 300,000 people in Alaska and we've got poor medical infrastructure.

Unfortunately Alaska is full of Alaskans and nobody can tell us what to do. Nothing changes. 7pm rolls around and I'm teaching scuba classes in the pool.

I load a few hundred pounds of scuba gear into the back of my truck. In a wet wetsuit. In the snow. In a fabric facemask. 6 feet apart. In the pool.

I dont get paid for pool time.

Over the summer we had 6 dive masters including me, all big burly dudes, much better suited to picking things up. Its November and I'm the only one.

The kids I'm teaching are going to Hawaii. They're 10 and 13 and so wildly excited about breathing underwater its beautiful to watch. And they're traveling to an island. In a pandemic.

Friday.

Unload scuba gear so it doesnt get stolen out of the back of my truck while I'm at class. Were doing a make up lab today. Hey of the five student in my class only one of us has covid so theres that.

My boss calls an let's me know that shes left for Valdez without me. If I'd like to make an 8 hour drive by myself in a snowstorm I'm welcome to follow.

I'm in class till an hour before shop closing. I'm not driving across town so I can run on the open sign for half an hour.

The shop stays closed on Friday.

Saturday.

I explained to everyone we had business with that the shop would be closed over the weekend and Friday. I planned on being in Valdez. Hell I canceled plans to be in Valdez.

I open the shop and immediately field calls about why we werent open. I start to explain about the Valdez trip and logistical difficulties and then I realize that shes not mad about that. The woman was here before I opened early this morning. We have never been open that early. The hours are on the door.

A regular comes in. Hes also confused as to why I'm here.

Sunday finds me curled up in bed, reluctant to leave. Getting out of bed has not played out well for me recently.

A friend comes over to chat with my partner about specialist rifle parts. This isnt that wierd, he works at a gun shop and they've been discussing upgrading my partners current rifle set up.

He is wearing a full Scottish kilt. Red tartan. Looks very lovely.

I make zucchini bread and my proportions are a little off because I have too much zucchini so it's a little over moist but it's good. I'm recovering from an asskicker of a week and next week will be better.

Monday morning:

Baby brother has covid

Dads getting the results of his rapid test tonight.

Mom isnt getting tested because she says she doesnt have symptoms but that's not the fucking point mom.

So, I'm not going home for thanksgiving. I'm not diving in Valdez. I'm not skiing backcountry.

I'm not sick. I'm not flat broke yet. I dont have a ticket. I have a job. I have people who care about me. Im managing my physical and mental health as best I can. Im just fucking exhausted.

#vent post #writing #holy fuuuuuck #2020

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wewillwriteyou · 5 years

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No turning back || Ben Hardy (SMUT)

Summary: Y/N’s had a crush on Ben for a while but they are just friends. What would happen if they were to confront each other about what they really feel, at last?

Pairing: Ben x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5 k+

Warnings: SMUT under the cut!, 18+, some language, protected sex (always stay safe folks), references to cheating, FLUFF hell yeah

A/N: sooo yeah. Here we are with another one shot and, guess what? Still about Ben! We love that British dork more than we should, don’t judge us, people. We hope you’ll enjoy, folks, let us know what you think.

“You two are just made for each other, why don’t you just get on with it?!” Lucy spoke from the screen of your laptop.

You chuckled and shook your head, wishing you could agree with her “I already told you: you’re crazy, my friend”

“Bullshit, y/n, and you know it. Why don’t you just talk to him?”

You sighed “Because, last time I checked he had a girlfriend, and I don’t wanna mess around with anyone”

She rolled her eyes and smirked at you through the camera “C’ mon we both know that’s never gonna last and if you don’t act soon, you’ll miss your chance, doll” you see her becoming more serious “I don’t wanna see you get hurt like last time, that’s all I’m saying”

It sincerely moved you how deeply she cared for you. She had always had your back and always had been there for you through the good and the ugly, just like you had been for her.

Since you had started hanging out with her and her friends from work (almost a year ago, right after she had finished shooting Bohemian Rhapsody), she had always told you she had seen a spark fly between you and Ben since you first met each other.

Deep down you knew she was right: you had felt something strange going on with the butterflies in your stomach when the handsome Englishman had firstly shaken your hand. Something in his big green eyes, in the huge smile he greeted you with and the quick wink he gave you, had surely moved something inside you.

You had developed a small crush on him at first, but had never said anything to anyone. Anyone except Lucy, that had immediately understood everything and had started to root for the two of you to end up together.

You had soon become a part of their small group and they had welcomed you gladly, making you feel like a vital part of their small gang. The relationships you developed with all of them were different but special in every kind of way: you were sure you could always count on Lucy (your oldest friend) and now Rami, her boyfriend, for some advice or for a quiet and light-hearted evening in front of the tv or out drinking, but you had to admit you always had a blast when you hang out with them and the rest of the guys: Joe, Gwilym, Allen and Ben. When all of the boys were reunited they could give the best of themselves and always managed to make you crack up with both the silliest or most sophisticated jokes.

You were proud to call them all your friends.

But lately, things with Ben had become hugely more complicated.

Nearly six months into your acquaintance to the group, Ben had met Liza through a mutual friend and had started going out with her. In a matter of two weeks, they were together.

She was sincerely a nice girl and you couldn’t find a single thing that was wrong about her, not a single reason why they shouldn’t have been together. Lucy insisted she wasn’t worth half as much as you and that Ben honestly deserved better. And with better, she meant you, which usually made you either laugh or wonder if she was just saying that cause she was your friend.

“Ben’s just reasoning with the wrong end of his body”, she always repeated “You just have to wait till he realises that. Or else I’ll make him”

You always shook your head and smiled, but deep down, you hoped she was right. Your small crush had faded with the passing of months, segregated in a corner of your mind, and it’s not like you drooled behind him; however, you frequently found yourself wishing you could just for a moment, stop thinking and crash your lips onto his. Not to start anything serious, just to see what it’s like and to understand if the spark was just a spark or else, the possibility of something more.

“Anyhow,” Lucy’s cracking voice startled you from your thoughts. She was still on the other side of the screen “I’ll be at your place at 6, please be ready or I’ll tell Rami to start the car and drive away”

“I promise I will. Bye Luce”

Turning off your computer, you finished packing and turned on the shower. You and the gang had planned a weekend in Rami’s cabinet up in the hills to get away from the everyday life and stress. And obviously to drink everything you wanted without anyone having to drive.

Ben obviously wasn’t coming. He told you all he had plans with Liza, but everybody knew the truth. Liza was not completely fond of him hanging out with you. She didn’t know you had had feelings for him, or at least that’s what you knew; and yet somehow, as their relationship was growing, you realised Ben would always casually miss the seldom Saturday night out, just cause there would have been Lucy, Rami and the two of you.

Every now and then you felt like bursting out and standing up for your friendship, confronting Liza to tell her she had nothing to worry, that you would have not jumped on him when she wasn’t watching or stolen him from her. But you always clenched your fists and shut your mouth: if Ben really wanted to save your friendship, he would have talked to Liza to find a way.

It broke your heart thinking he did not care about you as much as you did about him.

When you arrived at the cabinet you immediately hugged Gwilym and Joe who were already there with some bags and boxes. You were ready to bet half of them contained alcohol.

You laughed “You realise we’re only here for, like, two days and a half, right? How much you intend to get us drunk?”

They chuckled and Joe answered for the both of them “You never know, y/n, we could be stuck here forever, we have to be ready”

You giggled and walked past them, following Lucy inside.

You all set up your rooms: Rami and Lucy in the main one and Gwilym, Joe and you in the guest room. You were not embarrassed of sleeping in their same room: they had basically become like older brothers to you and you knew they felt the same protective big-brother-y energy towards you.

After you all had dinner, the guys wanted to drive back into town: Allen had texted them there was a cool party at a friend of his.

“Guys we’re supposed to be getting away from the city, don’t you remember?” you protested, already dreaming of your comfortable pyjamas.

“Yeah” Joe answered “But they are giving away drinks and Allen said there’s quite a… fauna over there” and smirked to Gwilym, who smugly smiled and looked over to you.

“He had me at drinks, but that is a plus” he just added.

“You two are disgusting” you rolled your eyes.

Turning towards Lucy and Rami, you asked: “What do you think?”

“I think we should go, at least for the free drinks” Rami simply said, shrugging his shoulders.

“But we have plenty here!” you commented.

“Yeah but it’s not the same” Gwil jumped in and earned a fulminating look from you.

Lucy had been following your banter with the boys whilst texting on her phone. When she heard you stopped talking, she got up from the sofa to join you in the middle of the living room.

“I say we go,” she said.

You groaned in protest, while Joe and Gwil exulted and patted her on the shoulder.

“Why Luce? Just, why?” you asked.

She tried to hide a smug grin, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to” she conceded with a smile.

You smiled gratefully “Thanks, Luce.”

“You can’t stay here alone, y/n” Rami commented “There are other houses but the closest one is down the hill, at least a mile away”

“I swear I won’t jump on the walls or off the balcony” you joked, Joe and Gwilym giggled. “C’ mon Rami, I can take care of myself”

“Yeah but in case of emergency-”

“-she’ll call us and we’ll be right back, right?” Lucy asked the other boys.

Gwil and Joe were nodding along and had weird, relaxed grins on their faces. You couldn’t tell if they were up to something or if they were simply impatient to go to the party.

Rami gave in with a sigh and reached for the car key “If you need anything, please just call” he said heading to the door.

“I will, dad” you mocked him and he softly chuckled, shaking his head.

“Don’t do anything stupid either” Lucy said on the threshold.

“I won’t, mom” you joked and held the door open for them to walk out. “At least not anything I wouldn’t do!” she shouted when she was already approaching the car.

You smiled and waved, closing the door behind you. You immediately slipped into the pyjamas you had been so long craving for and snuggled by the fire; the tv was showing an old movie and you could feel like dozing off after a few minutes, when you heard a loud knock on the door.

You frowned and looked at the clock: the guys had been gone for about half an hour. Could it be them already?

You looked outside and it was pouring rain. Wrapping yourself in a blanket and picking up an umbrella from the corridor, you approached carefully the door.

Heart beating fast in your chest, a ton of scenes from horror movies passed through your head and for a moment you were not sure whether you were dreaming or awake.

The knock repeated itself and you jumped for the surprise. You put your hand on the handle and pulled the door open.

In the dim light of the street, a wet and chilly Ben was trembling.

“What in the bloody hell took you so long?” he shrieked, passed you by and through the door, heading to the kitchen.

Still a bit startled, you closed the door behind you and followed him.

“You’re wetting Rami’s floor,” you said, while we put the kettle on and opened some cabinets, probably looking for tea “He won’t be pleased”

“Yeah yeah, this is like a second home to me now” he answered “I’ll clean up”.

You watched him fidget with the box of tea and softly chuckled: his fingers were so cold he couldn’t even open it.

He lifted his gaze, smugly smirking “Does this seem funny to you? I’m freezing”

You nodded “Yeah it’s funny” you got closer, still giggling, and took it out of his hands.

“Thanks” he mumbled.

You smiled “Why are you so freezing?”

He sat on a stool “I parked the car down the hill, cause I know Rami always parks here. Where is his car anyway?”

You opened the box and took out to cups from the cabinet “They all went to this party Allen invited us to”

"That's weird, I texted Lucy and she told me you were all here"

That minx, you thought. Now you knew why she had told you that you could just stay here: she had orchestrated everything to get the two of you to spend some time alone together.

You didn’t know whether to thank her or insult her.

He frowned. You could feel his gaze on you “Why are you not there?”

You shrugged “Didn’t feel like going” you met his eyes and gave him a small smile “I wanted to stay home and help chilly night wanderers”

He softly chuckled “Guess it’s my lucky day then. Thank you by the way”

You smiled looking at what you were doing instead of his deep green eyes. Something in his gaze made you feel weird, like some kind of tension had fallen between the two of you in an instant.

You shrugged the feeling away. “It’s nothing”

You saw him straightening his spine with the corner of your eye.

“Why are you here?” you asked sheepishly.

He joined his hands on the table and sighed while staring at the surface of the wooden table “We had a small fight”

He didn’t have to say who was we. It was clear he was talking about Liza.

“A small fight and you drive 60 miles away in the middle of the night?” you corked an eyebrow.

He glanced over at you and snorted “Okay, it was kinda a big one”

“Ben?” you inquired, a smile on your face to mock him “What did you do?”

He huffed but did not return the smile. He just looked down at his hands and reached for the cup you had prepared for him. You pulled it out of his reach, now seriously worried something had gone wrong.

“Ben” you repeated, “What happened?”

He looked up at you: his green eyes a strange mixture of emotions.

“I told her I meant to come up here and spend some time with you guys. She told me she wasn’t totally on board with it…”

Because I’m here as well, you thought.

“…I told her she could come as well but she didn’t want to and so…” he hesitated.

“So… what?” you asked, taking a seat beside him on a stool.

He turned to face you and sighed again “I asked her what she expected me to do, if she wanted me to stop seeing my friends just because…” he stopped to sigh again and never continued that sentence.

Instead, he continued “I might have told her she couldn’t control my life like that… We ended up shouting things to each other and well…”

“Oh Ben…” you placed your hands on your face, rubbing your eyes and shaking your head “and you run out to drive up here?”

He shifted his gaze back to the table, silently answering your question.

“You are a dick,” you said, before letting out a soft chuckle and swiftly covering your mouth with a hand.

He turned his head to you “I’m the dick? She’s the one trying to control my life and the people who are in it…”. Unable to stand your gaze, he moved it back to the table, slightly shaking his head.

“Yeah, but you need to work things out if you still want to call her your girlfrie-”

“What if I don’t want to anymore?” he uttered, startling you and making you shift in your seat.

“What?” you asked in a low voice.

“No” he brought his hands to his face and angrily rubbed his eyes, just like you had done earlier “Ugh! I don’t know… I don’t know why it’s all so complicated right now…”

He turned to face you the instant you did the same: you felt your heartbeat race faster, you were so close you could smell his cologne.

“Do you think I'm being out of my mind here?” he leaned in to place a hand on your thigh, his eyes fixated in yours.

Somehow you had forgotten how to breathe. You caught his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips, then back again to your eyes. You were now sure of the redness that had surely sprung among your cheeks.

“I-” you started, but didn’t know how to finish the sentence, your brain blanking every 0.2 seconds, due to lack of oxygen.

“You what?” he whispered, constantly inching forward.

You both knew how it was gonna end, but neither of you had the strength to stop it.

It was inevitable.

You had wanted this moment to happen for so long, you found it hard to back down now. And from the way Ben was acting, you were pretty sure he had all the intention to let it happen.

“What are you -” you started again, but you couldn’t complete the sentence.

Ben’s lips crashed into yours and you soon felt his cold hands on your cheeks. The kiss only lasted a few seconds and when you pulled away, Ben’s eyes were indecipherable.

You turned towards the table again, propping your elbows on the surface and bringing your hands to your face.

“No Ben, you can't do this" you started “We can't do this. Not while you're still with her. It's not right”

You felt his hand on your back “y/n, I really don't think we'll get back together. At least, I don't want to”

“Did you break up?”

He hesitated “Well, no but -”

“Then you’re still together! I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything” you stated.

“You already are, y/n” he replied, your gaze swiftly shifting to his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

He huffed “You seriously cannot tell me you have not noticed”

You frowned “Noticed what?”

He widened his eyes “C’ mon, y/n, don’t be elusive…”. He realised you didn’t know what he was talking about; he continued “I must be a better actor than I think I am…” he chuckled, shaking his head.

He locked eyes with you “I can’t stop thinking about you, y/n. I tried, seriously, but I don’t know how to stop. I try to avoid being alone with you because I don’t know how to control myself.”

A shiver ran down your spine, hearing all the words you had hoped to hear him say. You tried to hide a smile: that was indeed a turn of events.

He smiled "Look, I have no idea what I'm doing here," he whispered leaning closer again “but I know I want to find out what this is all about”

You swiftly turned to him, to look at him in the eyes, trying to read them.

“I feel like something bad will happen if we keep looking at each other like that” you suggested.

Ben softly chuckled, before whispering “…or something good, depends on perspective”

You found again very close to his lips and you knew he was staring at yours. You kissed him quickly, as to remind yourself what it felt like.

He smiled widely and kissed you back again, the kiss lasting a bit longer this time. You pulled away again, looking at his eyes one more time: they were smiling, just as much as his lips and you knew he was just as much excited as you about this.

Almost simultaneously you crushed your lips together, your hands flying into his blond hair and his finding quickly your jaw and neck. You parted your lips to give him better access and he deepened the kiss. It was heated, passionate and heavy of all the tension you had stored through the past year.

He slid a hand down to your waist and pulled you closer, making you jump down the stool and inch towards him, between his legs. Your hands roamed on his back, while he had one behind our neck and another on your waist. You pulled away to catch some breath and stared into his eyes to ask him what you were doing.

He jumped down the stool: as an answer, he grabbed you again and started back where you had left. Transported by the kiss, he guided you towards the corridor and into the nearest room. He opened the door with his back, without even letting you slip out of his grip.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this” he whispered to your ear, after pulling away from your lips for a second.

“I know” you replied, bringing your hands to his chest, part of you wanting to keep him close, the other wanting to push him away "Me too".

You were awfully aware what you were doing was far from the right thing to do, let alone the right moment to do it. Ben was technically still with Liza and you knew he was technically cheating on her. With you.

But when he roamed his hands on your back, hugging you tight and kissing you passionately, the outside world faded away instantly and it was like you were in your own world, where only the two of you existed.

You slid your hands down his still partially wet t-shirt and slipped them under it. Ben helped you getting it over his head. You took a moment to caress his chest and abdomen, admiring his muscles before looking up to his eyes.

His cold hands played with the hem of your sweater: you tossed it on the floor, revealing your bare chest, and you grinned widely when you heard him gulping. He leaned down to kiss you again passionately, guiding you towards the bed and making you lay down, quickly hovering you.

He searched for your eyes for a moment, trying to read your emotions. You propped yourself on your elbows to kiss him softly. “You know there’s no turning back from this?” he asked “For our friendship I mean”

You lifted an eyebrow “I’m currently laying half naked underneath you, I think we can safely say our friendship is ruined”

He softly chuckled, letting out what you thought to be one of the best sounds you had ever heard. Your heart ached at how happy you felt in that very moment.

“What do you mean you don’t flash all of your friends?” he joked.

“Only Joe and Gwil” you answered in tone, making him gulp harshly again.

You chuckled and cupped his cheek, kissing his jaw right afterwards “I’m kidding”.

He hushed a groan “I sure hope so”

He looked again into your eyes, more serious this time, silently asking for permission to continue.

You smiled “I’m ready when you are”

He smiled back, leaning down to cover your body with his and kissing you again, before moving to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. You hushed out a moan when he started kissing your skin, leaving small red marks under the earlobe.

"Ben," you whispered not exactly knowing what to say next. Your mind was inebriated by him.

"Mmmh" he mumbled on your skin.

You were shivering from all the emotions you were feeling, inebriated by his scent and by the knowledge you were actually that close to him. Never in your wildest dreams, you would have imagined he had felt the same the whole time.

You were gleaming with joy and you couldn’t stop a smile to form on your face, as Ben kept on kissing your neck and chest.

He caught your smile and stopped to ask, smiling himself “What’s that smile?”

“I just can’t believe this is happening,” you explained “now please kiss me again”

His smile widened as he leant down to meet your lips, his hand sliding down your body to toy with the edge of your pants, slowly pulling them down.

He wasn’t teasing, he just wanted to take his time to savour every moment.

You smirked in the kiss and moved a hand from his neck to the other edge of your pants, helping him to pull them off and toss them on the floor.

The heat of the room had increased exponentially in the last few minutes and you felt a pleasant heat spreading down your spine and between your legs.

Your hands flew to his belt and you fidgeted with the buttons of his jeans. He knelt back and undid them himself, discarding them on the floor afterwards.

He came down to hover you again, kissing your jaw and nibbling at the skin between your breasts. You loudly sighed and tightened the grip on his hair, the other hand drawing patterns on his back.

You could feel him against your thigh from underneath his boxers, the sensation bringing even more excitement down at your core.

Using an elbow to perch yourself, you rolled the both of you over the bed, so that now he had his back laying on the mattress and you were straddling him.

He smiled at your sudden initiative and cupped your cheeks to kiss you again and bring you closer to his chest.

Laying on top of his body, skin on skin, kissing the air out of your lungs was probably one of the best feelings you had ever experienced.

Almost accidentally you brushed your hips against his boxers, drawing a whimper from Ben’s lips. When you parted for a moment, his eyes were dark and lighted by a spark of excitement. Grinning, you repeated the move, earning another hushed whimper from him.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to hold back” he said, suffocating a groan.

You smirked “Then don’t”

His eyes lit up with excitement a crooked smile propped up on his lips. He rolled you over again and slid his hands underneath the elastic band of your panties, slowly pulling them down, his eyes locked into yours.

You instantly reached for his underwear and tugged at the hem of his boxers. You could see how surprised he was by your initiative, which shocked him every time.

As he got rid of his underwear as well, he knelt on the mattress, a light-hearted grin on his face.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked with a smile, adjusting the condom on. There was no trace of doubt in his voice: he was just as incredulous as you were to the fact that you were finally exploring your feelings for each other.

Smiling, you sat up on the bed to reach his face and cup his jaw with your hands.

“I think we might just be” you whispered with a smile. He smiled back, placing his lips on yours and laying you down on the mattress, his body covering yours and your lips still locked to each other.

Without further notice, you felt him align himself with you and slid inside. Simultaneously you inhaled sharply at the new sensation. You wrapped your hands around his back, as he placed small sloppy kisses down your neck and on your shoulder.

Ben started at a slow pace, steadying himself by perching on his elbow by the side of your body, as you gently caressed his arms. Neither of you dared to talk, to caught up in the moment to even articulate a sentence: you were taking things slow, not wanting the moment to end. It went on like that for a while, Ben slowly thrusting in and out, his lips locked with yours at every movement he made.

The whole cabin was quiet and the silence was interrupted every once in a while only by your hot breaths and muffled moans and by the crackling of the fireplace.

You collapsed next to each other, Ben’s arm wrapped around your waist and your head on his shoulder. The soft blankets were barely covering your bodies as you stared at the ceiling with a huge smile on your face.

“No turning back, uh?” you asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.

He turned his face, searching for your eyes and smiling.

“No turning back.” he said inching forward to kiss you once more.

- - - - -

A/N: We’re gonna tag our usual suspects cause this is something new and we’d very much like your opinion on it, lovesies 🖤 You can absolutely ignore it if you don’t feel like reading it, but let us know if you do!

Also, there is a slight chance this could get a part two (?) let us know if you’d like that! Cheers, folks! 💖

Tag list: @littledarlingwellaway @its-nxt-living@bohemiandelilah@onevisionliz@misshystericalqueen @loki-lover095@deakysgurl@inthelapofthe39 @starsoflovingness-wq@minetticatinwonderland@cairdes20 @friendswillbefriendsblog@o-holynight @trash-record-collection @please-stop-me-now@theappleofmybri @marvelsbunch@imgonnabeyourslave @babygotblueeyes @mi55chanandlerbong

#smut #ben hardy smut #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap boys #in order of appearence #Lucy Boynton #Rami Malek #Joe Mazzello #Gwilym Lee #wewillwriteyou #deakyswhitequeen #sweetgcreature

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delphineh · 4 years

Text

DELPHINE HOLLOWAY / “DELTA HERNÁNDEZ”; STATISTICS, BACKSTORY & SOME CONNECTIONS.

Rose here! I knoow, this is super late but I can’t begin to rant about how hectic the past few days have been. Anyway, I’m so excited to introduce you to my 3rd muse, a detective transferred into Red Ridge three months ago to infiltrate Valencia. They’re posing as a street rat & generic af bartender but are having their ears open for the opposite team.

trigger warnings: child abandonment, child neglect, domestic violence, alcoholism, ptsd.

STATISTICS:

TRAITS & BACKSTORY:

full, real name: delphine ann davidsen holloway.

undercover name: delta hernández ( hernández was their great grandmother’s maiden name, a family tree too old to track but one that allows them to hold their identity close. )

nickname: delphi, little elf, del, d, dee.

gender & pronouns: non-binary & they/she.

age: 35 30.

birthday: november 28th, 1985. ( though their fake id writes january 14th, 1990. )

sexual orientation: homosexual.

romantic orientation: homoromantic.

relationship status: single.

occupation: detective bartender in the kitten club.

affiliation: law enforcement valencia.

rank: undercover street rat.

delphine’s origins became known to them only because they were five years old when their mother ( a 20-year-old prostitute who’d gone homeless since having them ) left them outside of st. david’s orphanage. she’d been raising them all by herself until then. a crumpled letter was stuffed inside their bee-shaped bag, along with a couple changes of clothes and a picture of the two of them. “promise me you’ll keep this. promise me, delphi! read it when you’re eighteen. then you’ll understand, i swear you will!”

positive personality traits: protective, clever, loyal, brave, hard-working, determined, perceptive, confrontational.

negative personality traits: obsessive, cunning, emotionally closed-off, irruptive, distrusting, blunt.

their clothes and their bag were stolen away as soon as they were assigned to a bed, and that letter was first read when they were 14 years old and in desperate need of crumbs that’d help them endure the abuse and fight tooth and nail for their adoptive sister — or encourage them to do something about it ( but more about that in a minute ). in that letter, their mother apologized for not knowing who their father was but told them to always be close to ‘her’ heritage ( as a toddler they were still going by the “she/her” pronouns exclusively, completely unaware there was a word to express the complexity of their identity and its understanding beyond one’s genitalia ). she told them that their grandma was mixed dominican, chinese and african, and their grandpa ashkenazi jewish with roots in central europe. she wrote down the tale about how she lost them both young and ended up in the streets, alone, having nothing but her heritage and childhood memories. “i worry, little elf.. i’m so sorry. your life would’ve been so difficult either way... i know leaving you will make it worse. but i promise you, i didn’t have another choice.” then, she explained that she owed money to the wrong people and that she’d end up dead because of it. “watch out for them, delphine. watch out for the valencia. don’t ever make a trade with them. don’t ever cross paths with them. now that you’re 18, leave if you can. i beg you.” if delphine had waited until 18 to read that letter, their life wouldn’t have changed like it did.

jumping back to the orphanage for a moment: it wasn’t pretty. in that particular institution, they weren’t treated like children, but like numbers. they were punished like them, too. if one child got in trouble, nobody ate. if one kid stayed up late, all of them were violently woken up in the middle of the night to do chores as punishment. if one kid threw up or tossed their food, the rest wouldn’t eat. their clothes never changed, their days never changed. all delphine had was themselves and kara, an orphan two years younger than them. an almost violent urge to protect each other surfaced, attaching them at the hip. they wouldn’t go anywhere without each other; they’d never let anyone else tear them apart.

delphine was eight years old when they were adopted in a new household with kara. for a little while, they thought their prayers had been answered. a couple of weeks with their new parents, however, were enough to shake them both back into reality: these people were somehow even worse than the child care takers in st. david’s. the only reason they adopted them was to get their hands on their adoptive grandmother’s will, since their adoptive father’s sibling didn’t have children either. while that matter was on the table, they pretended to be loving, caring and protective. behind closed doors, though.. the story was different.

almost three years later, their adoptive grandmother dies and the couple inherits her house and her savings. that money is quickly spent in unnecessary luxury while delphine and kara were still left starved, dirty and uneducated. unfortunately the emotional and physical abuse worsened, if only by the certainty that nothing could take away from these awful people what they’d inherited and by the hard limits blurred due to the influence of alcohol ( their new wine celar became their adoptive father’s favorite hang-out spot ).

the breaking point came in 1999, 6 years after the two were adopted. delphi is 14 years old, locked inside their room with kara on their side, and their mother’s letter is barely hanging by a thread on the teen’s shaky hands. they pick up the phone and call the police to report domestic abuse.

somehow, returning to the orphanage seemed like the better option in comparison to staying there another minute. it never became easier: they’d spent six years where their health and education was neglected. most of the kids they used to know were adopted or left as soon as they became adults legally. delphine had a plan though: as soon as they turned 18 too, they’d grab kara and get out of there. ( maybe that other girl their age could join them, too. the one they couldn’t stop thinking about. ) they’d steal books from the library and then, when kara would be of age too, they’d work two jobs or three to finally get into the police academy. they’d make sure to protect the same way they wished to be protected and, eventually, they’d return in red ridge and lock behind bars those who tore them away from their mother. for the first time in their life, there’s a plan. a plan that revives the lost hope inside of them that everything would be alright.

two years later, delphine was adopted by a middle-aged couple, the holloways, who owed a small cottage at the borders of red ridge. delphi was 16 years old, and the oldest kid to ever be adopted in such an old age. on the outside it looked like a slim shot that hit the bullseye, but delphi had no good experiences to draw from and they didn’t want to leave their first love behind. at least escaping that new place with kara when the time came would be far easier than breaking out of the orphanage, right?

kara never joined; they weren’t supposed to. the couple had adopted delphine alone which meant that, legally, their ties to the orphanage are cut.

for all the years of suffering that they’d endured, for every trauma induced by a fist, a foul word or a disgusted look at their direction, scarring the very pits of their soul, losing kara was what broke them. they’d been taken away, they were forced to break their promise. delphine left them without their will and, in their book, it was all the holloway’s fault.

several months passed before their hatred and ptsd could “subdue” enough, just so that they could stop fearing for the curveball to drop and the couple to change; so they could see that the holloways were genuinelly good people: they gave them their own room, clean and tidy, new clothes just for them, and cooked tasty food for them every day. they had a garden in their cottage where they grew their own vegetables and showed delphi how to do it too. the holloways helped them research their heritage and encouraged them to sign into a public school to eventually graduate and live the experience, even though they’d be older than their classmates and catching up would be a very difficult task that required specific, careful treatment.

eventually, with time, patience and care, delphine let their guard drop. school isn’t easy when your classmates are several years younger and annoying for the most part, but walking back home was something they looked forward to. they heard stories upon stories about their life and told them what they’d read about their heritage along with the very few things they remembered before their mom left them. the holloways didn’t understand why delphine found the term “girl” wrong and limiting, but they slowly accepted it. and, when hiding such a big part of themselves became too overwhelming, they came out and were faced with acceptance, respect and love. when they finally asked the couple why they’d picked them, their response was way more practical than they’d imagined: they didn’t realize they wanted kids until they were too old to have them naturally, and they didn’t have the physical strength anymore to raise a baby on their own either. what they wanted was some company and someone to take care of their humble property after they’d be gone, if they wanted. and they wanted to help a kid who didn’t get a proper chance before into becoming something, someone they’d be proud of.

it’s june of 2006 when 21-year-old delphine graduates high school. in october of the same year, they leave for denver, colorado, and start training in the police academy there. ( it’s their desire for some change of scenery, for seeing something outside of red ridge, for meeting people who couldn’t look at them with pity in their eyes because they didn’t know their story. it’s a plea to forget about the fact that they hid behind some bushes all night and day when kara’s birthday came, but they never saw them break out. it’s the fact that they burged in and demanded to see them, only to find out they’d escaped a year ago. )

life continued pretty normally until 2019: delphine has a tight grasp of who they are and what they want from life. they’re settled in denver, their continuous, almost restless hard work promotes them to a detective with an excellent arrest rate at the age of 34, and they’re engaged to the woman of their dreams; someone they met in law enforcement years ago. their goal of returning back on red ridge eventually isn’t forgotten, nor the hope that maybe their long lost sister could be there somewhere. but they need to talk about it, them and their fiancee.

their undercover story is simple: their name is delta hernández, age 30 ( as written on their fake id ). they were dropped at an orphanage in oregon as a newborn and have no idea who their parents are. they were quickly adopted by a shitty family and, when they discovered they were adopted, they escaped: an outlaw going rogue all around nevada by jumping on rvs and making friends with strangers. they settled on red ridge recently because they like how valencia seems to be toying with the cops. they work as a bartender because they’re a better listener than talker and because they never went to high school. favorite color, blue.

the talk happens. they want to return home, settle there, and do undercover work. their fiancee wants to stay in derver and start a family with them after marriage. a schism pulls them apart; they do want children eventually, too. but not yet. they can’t yet. they need to make sure something is done about the situation in red ridge before that. the engagement breaks, the relationship ends and, with nobody holding them back, delphi requests that transfer.

SOME CONNECTIONS:

unbreakable vow — taken by @roadklls: kara and delphi were taken into the same foster home together when they were both very little. they went through hell together for a few years because it turned out that this family wanted to adopt them only to get their hands on their parents’ will. delphi called the police eventually so they were taken from them and placed back in the orphanage. they both thought that if they were to get adopted again, they’d be together. alas, delphi was adopted into a loving home alone and they never saw or heard from kara again.

ex fiancee — open: female or non-binary. they worked together in law enforcement and eventually got together. their relationship seemed perfect, with delphi experiencing the happiest years of their life. when she/they proposed, they agreed to marry them with their eyes closed. however, they eventually discussed that delphi wanted to return in red ridge and go undercover, while their partner wanted to stay in derver and start a family with them right away. they took their seperate ways and delphi was transferred in red ridge.

forbidden ties — 3/10 taken by @trialls, @hopesiick, @jacobsgraham: for a cop, they don’t trust all of their co-workers completely. in their book, there are two types of cops: those who have the same driving force to do good and bring criminals to justice, and those who crave their authority to overpower people. once they’ve judged a character to belong in the first category, they feel like themselves with them than with anyone else. this is a group of co-workers who have their back and vice versa. if it weren’t for them being undercover, they could even be friends.

first love — open: female or non-binary. this is delphine’s first love. she/they are the same age as them and they met at st. david’s orphanage. the two started dating at 14 and got into a very intense, co-protective and passionate teenage relationship that was cut short when delphine was adopted at 16.

unforgotten — 0/2 taken: other kids from st. david’s orphanage who know delphi’s real story. it’d be glorious if one of them is involved with valencia in the present and essentially blows her cover at the right time.

#redridgeintro #domestic abuse tw #child abandonment tw #child neglect tw #ptsd tw #alcoholism tw

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mypassionsarenysins · 5 years

Text

Old Love, New Love Ch. 6

(Past Dean Winchester x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: It’s been four years since Dean Winchester broke her heart, now that he has to work with her, how will old feelings resurface?

A/N: The proposal, and an unexpected ending!! Hope you guys like it.

Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Sam had been staying with you for five days and you couldn’t be happier. You felt like it was LA all over again, but this time you had to share Sam with Bucky.

They had become close in the week Sam stayed in New York. He would go to the office with you, conference call Cas and Gabriel, and he would also hang out with you and the rest of your family.

Sam had also become close with Steve and Sam Wilson. All four men would talk in hush voices making Bucky blush which you didn’t understand (but they were all pretty weird so…) and never really payed attention.

This weekend the biggest gala of New York was going to happen. The Veterans Gala was the event of the year. It was hosted by Stark Industries and Barnes Medical and you couldn’t wait. It was a great way to get donations to help veterans who needed it. You couldn’t be prouder of Bucky. Even though he hated public appearances he had done this event since he and Tony started working together. Since you two had been dating you had always been by his side, helping him when his anxiety got the best of him.

Today was Friday and the Gala was the next day and you couldn’t wait. You had date night with Bucky, but something felt different.

You had the busiest day ever. You had a meeting with Steve and Wilson, followed by meeting with Pepper, and a conference call with Cas. It had been a long morning and as you make your way to the office you notice two people sitting in the couch at the corner of the office.

John and Mary Winchester stare at you like a daughter coming back home. Tear accumulate in the corner of your eyes as you hug both Winchester’s.

“Sweat heart we’ve missed you so much,” John says as he hugs you tightly and kisses your forehead.

“My sweat girl it’s been so long,” Mary says as she kisses your cheek lovingly.

You could only smile. “Come on it hasn’t been that long you where here last month,” you said as you take a seat in the couch in front of them. “I was expecting you until tomorrow morning.”

Both Winchesters stare at each other and smirk.

“We had some business before the Gala,” John says as he stands up and he helps Mary up.

You only stare at them with questioning eyes.

“We have to go darling, but we will see you later.” Mary kisses you again and head to the door.

Once she is out of sight John turns to you. He grabs your hand and helps you up. “ I know you are confused but you will understand everything later.” He ruffles your hair and before you get a chance to answer he is out of the door.

You take a deep breath and go sit on your desk. It was 3 pm and your date was at 8 so you still had time to go home and dress.

What where you supposed to wear. Bucky said to dress nice and that you guys would have a dinner in The Tower, so as you set everything to leave for the day you start to go through your wardrobe.

As you get in the elevator you get the idea to call Peggy. She always had a solution.

“Hello, the love of your life speaking,” she answered with a smile on her voice.

“Hey Peggy,” you answer a little bit distracted.

“Are you alright dear?” She asked concerned lacing your voice.

You sigh, “I don’t know Pegg, it’s just I have this weird feeling today, and I have date night and Bucky told me to dress nice and I don’t know what to wear.” You said your shoulders dropping.

Peggy laughs. “Okay, how about I meet you in the tower and I help you. I��m done for the day.”

You smile, “thank you thank you so much!!” You laugh as you feel some relief.

“I’ll be there in 30.” She says and hangs up.

As you paced around your room you start taking out dress after dress, pants after pants. And you still couldn’t pick anything you wanted to wear. As you kept pacing in the room you turn to see Peggy in the doorway smiling happily at you.

“You are finally here,” you smile as you run to hug her.

“And it looks like a tornado was just here.” She smiles as she makes some room on the bed moving the pile of dresses.

You flop face down on the bed and scream. You can only hear Peggy’s laugh.

She stands up. “Okay stop it, we need to get to work.” She smiles.

You turn and sit on the bed arms crossed on your chest. “I don’t know why he made such a big deal about today,” you pout.

Peggy just keeps looking at your closet. She reaches for a dress that you forgot you bought. It was saved for a special occasion.

Your eyes went wide as you smile realizing it was the perfect dress.

“Oh my god I didn’t even remember that dress.” You squeal.

As you stand up and pull some black pumps to match the red dress.

“Come on let’s get you ready!!” Peggy says as he drags you to the bathroom.

It was now 8:00 pm and you where read. A sexy red dress with a slit, black pumps, your hair in soft curls (thanks to Peggy), and small diamond earring.

You felt beautiful.

Peggy had also gave you a very natural makeup look. Soft eyeshadow and a nude color on the lips.

As you make your way up the roof of the tower you think back on how weird this day had been. You felt like something was happening. Coming into a stop the elevator door opens and you gasp.

As you step into the small garden Tony had made on the roof you where mesmerized. Twinkling lights hanged all over, flowers placed everywhere, in small vases and big vases. You where in so much awe that you didn’t notice all your friends and family hiding behind the enormous flower arrangements.

As you kept walking you saw him.

Bucky stands at the end of the makeshift hall, candles illuminating him, and as you approach your breath is stolen at the beautiful looking at you all the love in the world.

As you arrive to where he was he grabs your hands and places a small kiss on your lips. “You look beautiful,” he says as he grabs both of your hands.

As Bucky grabs your hands he kneels in front of you.

You gasp as tears start falling out your eyes and smile.

He clears his throat. “(Y/N) when I met you I knew I would never meet a more beautiful woman ever. Then we started talking and realized that not only where you beautiful on the outside, but on the inside too.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “And then when you agreed to date me I was the happiest man on the earth. Even after you learned about my pas, how much the war affected me, you still had kind words filled with love and I will never feel like I am enough.”

As he takes a black velvet box from his jacket he says, “I am here to ask you if you will make me the honor of becoming my wife, not just because I love you, but because you have given me all of your heart even though it was broken before I met you.”

You cry and yell a loud “YES!” And fall into his arms.

As you kiss him passionately you say in his ear, “it would be my greatest honor to marry you, and to be there to support whatever may come to us.”

Bucky has tears in his eyes as you both stand up, and he slips the beautiful diamond ring into your finger.

As you are about to kiss again you can hear a big cheer behind you. You can hear all your family and friends and as you grab Bucky’s hand you start walking towards them.

Everybody is there both Sam’s, Jess, Steve, Peggy, Tony, Pepper, John, Mary, and everyone who you had a deep love for.

As everybody starts congratulating and you turn towards where Pepper, John, Mary, and Bucky’s parents are located.

“So thats why you are here,” you ask as John wraps his arms around you.

He smiles and just hums as Mary runs her hand through your hair.

“Well,” Tony said motioning to the ring. “That going to cause some spectacle at the Gala tomorrow.”

You smile and throw your arms around Tony and Pepper.

You smile starting to tear up again. “I am so happy all of you are here,” you let a small sob, “My parents would be so happy that I have you guys here with me.”

With those words all got into a group hug, and seeing this Bucky joins the hug.

“Whats happening,” he whispers as you let a laugh from your lips.

The next Saturday you woke up in the apartment, happily cuddling into Bucky’s chest watching the ring shining in the sunlight.

As a smile makes its way to your lis you see Bucky start shifting meaning he is waking up. You just bury your face on his chest more making the man giggle.

“Morning fiancé,” he smiles down at you as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“Morning love,” you smile kissing his nose.

As you two start cuddling more and more, thing heating up, Bucky’s phone ring. You can hear his groan and you just laugh at the pouty man.

With a deep breath Bucky picks up the phone, “Steve,” he groans as you get up and put on Bucky’s discarded shirt.

“Yeah I’ll be there, yeah I’ll let her know.” Bucky hummed into the phone as he got up and put on some sweats.

As Bucky walks into the kitchen h find you with two cups of coffee and your phone in your hand seated on the counter. He just stares as you thinking about how in love he is with you.

“What did Steve want?” You as smirking as he steps between your legs taking his cup from the counter.

“We have a meeting with some people from Winchesters, apparently Castiel and Gabriel Novak want to do an inspection.” He says.

You smile at him, “Then you better start getting ready.” As you walk away he playfully smacks your butt.

“Also he said to tell you that the girls are kidnapping you. Apparently tonight Gala is a reason for a spa day or something.” He shrugs and continues to way his way to the bedroom.

You walk to the closet where Bucky is picking some clothes for the day. His tux and your dress hanging on one side of the closet.

You hug him from behind feeling his back muscles and you hear him hum.

“I love you James Barnes,” you say hugging him tightly.

He turns around and lowers his head until both of your foreheads are connected.

He stares deeply in your eyes, happiness shinning through. “I love you (Y/N)(Y/L/N), and I can’t believe we are getting married.”

You smile and as your lips are about to connect you hear a knock on the door. You groan loudly and grab your robe.

Bucky chuckles as he hears you cursing under your breath.

You make your way to the door and open it to see Wanda, Peggy, and Natasha all with a smile on their faces with an additional Starbucks cup for you.

“Let’s go princess, its spa day” Wanda shouts as she hugs you.

As you are about to answer Bucky comes out of the bedroom. “Ladies,” he smirks.

“Hey Buck,” Nat smiles as she takes her turn to hug you.

“Just letting you know that we are kidnapping our dear (Y/N),” Peggy says as she hands you the coffee.

Bucky looks at Peggy, “she is mine you know,” he says with a pout.

Peggy just hugs you more and sticks her young at him.

You laugh and you escape Peggy’s arms. You make your way to Bucky and kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“Have a good day, I’ll see you tonight.” You whisper sweetly.

“Have a good day with the girls.” He says. “Ladies,” he nods towards the group.

“BUCKY,” they all yell a the same time.

You laugh as you turn to the girls, Bucky leaving you to have a spa day.

“So what’s the plan?” You look at the three girls all of them wearing sinister smiles. “Oh boy,” you laugh as the girls push you into the bedroom to start getting changed.

As the day goes you all had brunch with mimosas, then to the nail salon, then to the spa, after that you all met at the apartment. The girls had sent their gowns to the apartment, also your makeup artist and hair stylist would be there in an hour. Bucky had also picked up his tux, taking it to Steve’s where the guys would be getting ready also he would be inviting sam with him.

You all had your make up and hair done, and slipped into your gowns when you received a text form Bucky sayin that the guys where outside waiting for you.

Bucky was chatting with Steve and Clint when he head heels walking towards them, as looks up he sees his girl walking towards him in a beautiful blue dress and Bucky couldn’t breath.

“How do we look?” Nat asked with a smirk as she made her way towards Clint. He kisses her softly her red dress in a siren shape captivating him.

“Beautiful” he says with a smirk as he twirls her.

“You look beautiful doll,” Steve says as he kisses Peggy’s cheek. Her white gown glowing.

“Thank you Steven” you answer before Peggy has a chance.

The group laughs at your antic to which Steve groans.

“Where is Sam?” You ask before you can continue you say, “Winchester.”

“We dropped him off with his parents,” Steve says.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Clint says as you start getting inside the limo.

As the night progresses, you walk the red carpet, staying behind Bucky as he is interviewed by journalist. Its not that you don’t want to be with him, but he was the star of the event.

As you go inside you have a flute of champagne in hand when people start asking you about the engagement and ring. Everybody congratulating you both.

As the night goes on you and Buck take the dance floor happiness surrounding you both.

As you start swaying to a soft ballad whose name you didn’t know you hear a commotion. You both turn to see Dean Winchester approaching you both with anger in his face. Before he can reach you both Sam drags him by the arm.

Bucky turns to you with concerned eyes, only to see anger in yours.

“You okay doll?” He asks quietly.

As you continue to look you see John leaving behind Sam.

“Go doll, I’ll be right there.” He says softly.

As you walk towards the hallway where the Winchester are located you take a deep breath and walk in with you head held high.

Bucky walks to find Sam and Steve. When both men look at him and see his eyes they know something is wrong.

“What happened?” Sam asks as the three walk to where is emptier.

“Dean Winchester showed up,” Bucky says as he lets an angry sigh leave his lips.

“The fuck is that guy doing here?” Sam asks again as Steve focuses his eyes in Bucky.

“I don’t know but I don’t like it.” Bucky says sternly.

“Where’s (Y/N)” Steve asks with concern.

“She went to talk to them,” Bucky notions at the hallway.

“You should go man,” Sam says as he pats his shoulders.

Bucky nods his head and head towards the trouble.

As he arrives he sees Dean grabbing you and about to pull you towards him when he yells “Let her go.”

Dean lets you go and you run towards him.

He could only stare at the man rage in his eyes.

“Everything okay doll?” He asks concern and anger in his eyes.

You look over at Dean with angry eyes, “Yeah, he was just leaving.” You say.

Before Dean can go away Bucky turns towards him. “I was wondering if we could have a word.” Bucky says as he inflates his chest and keeps a had protectively in your waist.

You stare at both men who had murder in their eyes.

“Of course,” Dean says with a smirk.

“After you,” he nods towards the balcony.

“I’ll be right back,” Bucky says as he kisses you softly.

You only stared as both men walked away. You take a deep breath and go to find Sammy and Steve knowing you would need their help.

TAG LIST: @greenarrowhead @choppedgalaxynerd-blog-blog @theonelittleone @lesleyvalntyne @angelstrenchcoat-67 @frozenhuntress67 @mc225g

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester au

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