#also i’m laying in bed at like 1:45 just now realizing that not only have i only eaten once today but i’ve been standing up so long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sabinanotfound · 3 years

Text

45 Prompts for Hand-Holding

I stumbled across this post and I had to do it. Enjoy... (also it’s the best experience when you switch to the goth rave mode)

45 prompts (actually 42 since I skipped the 12th and the 13th one because I wasn’t comfortable and the 26th one, because I had 0 ideas) and all are SFW.

Includes; Wilbur Soot, cc!Technoblade, GeorgeNotFound, Nihachu, Karl Jacobs, platonic!Ranboo, Dream, SapNap, Quackity (separately)

Warnings: specified before each prompt <3 credit to @creativepromptsforwriting for the amazing prompts

REQUESTS OPEN

1. Tiny hands in big hands (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

Wilbur was absentmindedly fiddling with your hand as the bus made its way through the traffic. “Your hands are so tiny,” he said, making you chuckle. You interlocked your fingers with his, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

2. Calloused hands in soft hands (cc!Technoblade x gn!reader) TW || anxiety

“It’s okay, you’re with me now,” you said softly, trying to calm Techno down. You took his calloused hands in yours, letting him relax and fall asleep in your embrace.

3. Cold hands in warm hands (GeorgeNotFound x gn!reader)

“Oh, and we should definitely see this place!” George exclaimed. For the past few hours he was excitedly showing you around London, but there was only one problem; the cold. When you didn’t respond, George turned to you and immediately noticed you shivering. He laughed softly before taking your cold hands in his warm ones. Let’s say, this method of warming up was your favorite.

4. Hands for the perfect ratio to each other for hand-holding (Nihachu x gn!reader)

You and Niki held hands as you sat on the couch watching a movie. You suddenly thought of how nice your hand fit in hers. “Niki, look it’s like our hands were made for each other!” you said and she laughed, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

5. Platonic hand-holding (platonic!Karl Jacobs x gn!reader)

You walked around the city with your best friend, absentmindedly holding each other’s hand and swinging them back and forth just because. Nothing mattered but your friendship and the beautiful views in front of you.

6. Running their thumb over the other’s hand (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader) TW || anxiety

As you entered the party, you regretted coming. There were way too many people for your liking. But this was your best friend’s birthday party and you couldn’t just ditch her like that. Wilbur turned to you and noticed your uncomfortable face. He took your hand in his tracing small circles on it with his thumb, letting you calm down.

7. Dancing with their hands holding onto each other (Dream x gn!reader)

“May I dance with you, my love?” Dream said as he held out his hand to you, smiling. A smile made its way onto your face as you swayed to the slow music, your hand in his.

8. Squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement (platonic!Ranboo x gn!reader)

You looked at Ranboo before making your way to the stage. He gave you a reassuring smile before squeezing your hand one last time and mouthing the words: “You can do this.”

9. Holding hands across the table (SapNap x gn!reader)

A fancy table set up at home due to the virus quickly spreading, candles light up and you two. The perfect date. You took a deep breath before putting a hand on Sapnap’s which was resting on the table. “Sap, I love you so so much. Will you marry me?” he looked at you with nothing but love and happiness in his eyes. “Yes, yes yes,” he said, stretching over the table to give you a kiss.

10. Happily doing everything with one hand even if it means they don’t have to let go (Quackity x gn!reader)

Alex stirred the pot as you chopped onions. Both doing your tasks with one hand. Ask why? Because why let go of your lover's hand when can *almost* do everything with one?

11. Not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd (Nihachu x gn!reader)

The crowd was huge. You knew there were many people who liked the same band as you, but this many people were unexpected. You held onto Niki's hand not to lose her in the huge crowd. "Niki, now I have an excuse to hold your hand at all time." you both laughed, making your way closer to the stage.

14. Grabbing hand to show them something (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

The Louvre was a really pretty museum, and you wanted to see everything. "Look, Wil, there's that famous painting I've been wanting to see!" you tugged on his arm as he chucked at your enthusiasm, following you to the painting.

15. Loosely holding onto each other’s hands, laying in one’s lap (GeorgeNotFound x gn!reader)

George laid in your lap as one of your hands loosely held his, and the other played with his hair. This must be what people call peace.

16. Only linking the pinkies together, not ready to let go completely (cc!Technoblade x gn!reader) TW || death, blood, angst

They had found you. Techno was too late and now there you were, laying on the floor and covered in blood. He let out a sob and the only sign of you being alive was your pinkie you had linked with his. And then your chest stopped. You were gone.

17. Holding hands while skating (Dream x gn!reader)

"I'm going to fall!" you shrieked, as Dream just smirked and held your hand tightly. "No, you're not. Look, you're already getting a hang of this!" he encouraged as you straightened your back, a little less afraid.

18. Excitedly grabbing each other’s hands during a concert, jumping up and down together (Karl Jacobs x gn!reader)

"I love this song!" you screamed over the song, as Karl nodded, continuing to bop his head to the music. You jumped up and down as the melody got faster. Your hands were linked and you were sure this was the best concert ever.

19. Playing with each other’s fingers (SapNap x gn!reader)

You sat next to him at his desk, watching as he edited yet another video. One of his hands was in yours while you fiddled with his fingers. He turned to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I love you, baby."

20. Pressing the other’s hand against their cheek (Quackity x gn!reader) TW || sick reader

“How are you feeling mi amor?” Alex asked as he entered your room with a bowl of soup. “I’m feeling better, thanks to you.” you smiled at him as he sat on the bed, checking your fever. You took his hand in yours, pressing it against your cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me, I love you.”

21. Holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall (Nihachu x gn!reader)

You held Niki’s hand as she balanced on the small wall, laughing. Suddenly she slipped on a rock and landed into your arms as the both of you giggled.

22. Grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back from something (Dream x gn!reader)

“BE CAREFUL!” You felt your hand being pulled, just in time as a car flew by. Dream pulled you into his chest, hugging you as your breaths got steadier.

23. Holding hands under the table (Quackity x gn!reader) TW || someone talking shit abt Quackity

“And how’s it going with your uh...career?” Alex’s friend said sarcastically, obviously making fun of him. Alex’s muscles tensed, and you held his hand under the table, giving it a subtle squeeze. He smiled. “Better than yours.” As you two stood up and left.

24. Only realizing it when they have to let go (SapNap x gn!reader)

“Sap, it’s okay, I’m fine now. You don’t have to hold my hand. Thank you so much for the support.” SapNap looked at you, his gaze shy. “What if I don’t want to let go?” it was almost inaudible, but you heard it. You smiled, interlocking your fingers together. That’s a way to confess your feelings.

25. Standing in front of each other, holding both their hands (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

“y/n, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Wilbur said, holding both of your hands. You looked at him curiously, your brows slightly furrowing. “Will you marry me?” you gasped, immediately smiling. “YES, YES AND YES!” you screamed as Wilbur slid a pretty ring on your finger.

27. Passionate hand-holding (Karl Jacobs x gn!reader)

“Hii.” you said before plopping onto the couch next to Karl. You intertwined your fingers, wanting to never let go as soon as his hand touched yours.

28. Grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall (GeorgeNotFound x gn!reader)

“y/n, be careful, there’s a bump there,” George said as he pointed to the part of the road just ahead of you. Seems like he’d said it too late, because the next thing you knew, you were falling down. But thanks to George’s reflexes he held your hand just in time, preventing you from hitting the ground. “Thank you,” you breathed out, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

29. Holding hands while running through the rain (cc!Technoblade x gn!reader)

“I told you this'd be fun!” you said as the both of you ran around in the rain, laughing and holding hands.

30. Brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second (Dream x gn!reader)

Your breath hitched as Dream’s hand brushed yours lightly, and as your pinkies linked for a second, you started to question if your feelings towards him were really platonic.

31. Grabbing their hand to grab their attention (Quackity x gn!reader)

“Babyyyyy.” you whined as you came into Alex’s room. “You’ve been editing for so long already, you need to get some rest, and also give me cuddles.” Alex chuckled as he turned to you in his chair. “Ten more minutes mi amor.” he said, also missing you a lot. But today you weren’t having it, so you grabbed his hand and tugged on it. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, following you to the couch in the living room.

32. Not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

“Baby?” Wilbur asked and you hummed in response, not tearing your eyes off of your book. Your hand was in Wilbur’s who was scrolling through his phone. “I love you.” you turned to him, smiling. “I love you too, Wil.”

33. Bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go (SapNap x gn!reader) TW || a small injury

“You should’ve been more careful.” your best friend complained as he bandaged your hand. You had accidentally broken a cup and a piece of glass had cut your hand. When Sap finished his hand lingered on yours a little longer, making your cheeks lightly heat up.

34. Holding hands while driving (Karl Jacobs x gn!reader)

Karl’s left hand was on the steering wheel and the other one was interlocked with yours. A song was playing as you sang along and enjoyed the little moment.

35. Grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back to them (Nihachu x gn!reader)

The alarm clock beeped loudly, waking the both of you up. “A few more minutes...” you whined, but Niki was already starting to stand up. You caught her hand and lightly pulled her towards you. “Nooo a few more minutes but only with you,” you said as she laughed.

36. Unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping (GeorgeNotFound x gn!reader)

Your hand unconsciously searched for George’s, as you laid half asleep. Once you did, you interlocked your fingers and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

37. Not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

You sat on the couch in your friend’s house as the party became louder and louder every minute. Wilbur was next to you and you mindlessly interlocked your fingers. “I didn’t know you two were together.” one of your friends said, passing by. Your cheeks heated up as you slightly let go of his hand, but not completely.

38. Swinging hands back and forth, skipping like children (Quackity x gn!reader)

You and Alex swung your interlocked hands as you skipped around. In the daylight, when the streets were crowded this was not enjoyable; but at night, hanging out in a park while no one was there to throw you weird glances, it was perfect.

39. Holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition (Dream x gn!reader)

“Oh look! There’s that famous exhibition!” Dream exclaimed as he tugged on your hand. You followed him, curious about what you were going to see.

40. Letting go when there is an obstacle in their way and immediately grabbing each other’s hand again when they pass it (cc!Technoblade x gn!reader)

“Be careful, there’s a tree.” you let go of his hand for a second and as soon as you passed the tree, you softly took his hand in yours, continuing your walk in the forest.

41. Loosely holding onto each other’s hand (Nihachu x gn!reader)

You and Niki walked around the city, while she excitedly pointed out some important locations. You were loosely holding her hand, fascinated by everything around you.

42. Dragging the other with them, holding their hand (Karl Jacobs x gn!reader)

“Come on baby, you have to go to sleep, you’re overworking yourself.” Karl tried to convince you. You weakly asked for a few more minutes, but Karl took you by the hand and dragged you to bed. You were thankful because if not for him you’d be asleep on your desk in a few minutes.

43. Raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly (Wilbur Soot x gn!reader)

Your first date had been awesome. Wilbur was a true gentleman. As he opened the door for you to get out of the car, your eyes met. “Thank you for today Wilbur. I loved our date.” You smiled at him and he did so too, gently lifting your hand and pressing a quick kiss on it. “So... maybe you’re up for a second date sometime?” You nodded, not missing his rose-tinted cheeks.

44. Holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together (Dream x gn!reader) TW || cliff diving

"Ready?" Dream asked, giving your hand a subtle squeeze, and after you nodded, you jumped down into the beautiful blue waters, not letting go of Dream's hand.

45. Comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together (SapNap x gn!reader)

Sapnap hoped that you wouldn't take this as an excuse to hold your hand, but he had to give it a shot. "y/n, let's compare hand sizes." you pressed your palms together, and before you knew it, Sap had linked your fingers together. Not that you minded, though.

taglist: @yasaiiissleeping

masterlist

499 notes · View notes

its-kall-the-clown · 3 years

Note

Hey, I'm send my ask cause I love your writing style. This is the aftermath I'd sick MK. Pigsy & Tang took him to the hospital while Wukong is in FFM waiting & worried out of his mind. So he flies there & he is in fir a shock when he discovers his kid is so sick & in hospital. Prompt list: #39 & 45.

*rubs clown hands together* yall really want part 3? >:3 its angsty but what else am I know for? XD

in this one Tang gets a chance to be a protective dad again

PART 1 PART 2

Prompt List

I'm Sorry Bud

Rating: G

Wukong wasn't worried. He was the incredibly handsome sage equal to heaven and super immortal. He had no reason to worry Except….maybe he was incredibly worried. No matter how much he tried, his stomach snapped and curled unhappily every time he even thought about MK.

He got a phone call.

Not from MK but from his dad Pigsy.

He didn't even get a word out before hellfire had rained down on him. Call him old school but there were definitely some new curse words that he had never heard before that spewed out of the hog's mouth.

He was flayed verbally so viscously he shuddered under the swearing and even looked over his shoulder to make sure the pigman did not spontaneously spawn behind him.

The call ended with Pigsy talking about taking MK to the hospital and it was HIS fault.

They hung up after that and Wukong hasn't stopped pacing for the past five minutes. MK was sick, running a deadly fever, and in the hospital because of it.

Because of him...

He bites his thumb, his tail lashing wildly behind him, while he continues to dig a trench with his feet.

"Fuck it."

He leaps upward, summoning his nimbus, and speeds off into the sky to the general Hospital. He's there for only a few minutes but it feels like forever. He didn't even wait for his nimbus to stop before he's timing off to the front doors.

He probably scares the poor lady behind the desk with how he practically slammed into it with how fast he was rushing. He asked for MK which got him nothing till he realized he needed to probably give them his full real name. After saying Qi Xiaotian Sanzang they directed him to a room.

He rushes to room 607 but before he can even get a hand in the door he's grabbed roughly by the shoulder.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you…"

Wukong turned around to see MK's other dad, Tang, he's holding a few water bottles under his arm and a can of instant coffee. Looks like they were going to settle on for the night at MKs side, and Tang had been sent out on the errand the get them some drinks.

"Pigsy is still in there, and he's not too keen on seeing your face."

They scan the king up and down with passive eyes that hold a twinge of resentment that makes the fur on the back of his neck bristle defensively.

"I just want to see him…..make sure he's okay." He pleads and the passive gaze melts a little bit sympathetically.

"Please," Wukong begs again, even going so far as to duck his head submissively to the mortal. He just wanted to make sure MK was okay. It was his fault after all that they were sick. He should have never let them egg him on into training in the rain.

Tang looks him over again, studying him with a keen eye. He lets out a sigh eventually and walks forward.

"Okay, but only because MK asked about you once. let me get Pigsy out of the room first."

Wukogn jerks his head upward with surprise. He was actually going to let him see MK?

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I might not convince him to leave MK's side, wait here and disguise yourself or something." Tang gives him a little head nod before entering the room and shutting the door. Wukong does as requested and transforms into a beatle to cling to the wall.

A few minutes pass and at first, the monkey thinks that Tang couldn't do it and Pigsy wouldn't leave MK's side. But the door opens and the pig demon exits with a grumble about finding a nurse or doctor. Wukong barely has time to fly between the cracks before the door is shut again. He transforms back, landing on his feet.

MK is there.

He looks awful.

The poor boy is laying in a hospital bed, iv hooked up to him to administer fluids and a cooling compress to his forehead. Wukong approaches the bed reverently feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces.

"When they took his temp initially he was running a 104-degree fever," Tang explains walking up beside him and grabbing MK's limp hand.

"He was delirious, crying and shouting Something about being a disappointment before he passed out." They finish, the man rubbing MK's knuckles tenderly. Wukong takes the other side of the bed. And knees there to look at them up close.

"It's your fault you know."

It's like a full-body slam into a mountain. The words were delivered without mercy. He didn't even look at Tang and instead swallowed stiffly.

"You show up out of nowhere, pick MK without any reason that I can understand, and then you make him fill these impossibly big shoes!?" Tang's fist tightens at his side, face growing red slowly and Wukong isn't sure if he prefers this simmering rage of the explosive rage of Pigsy.

"You know how hard it was to build MK back up when we adopted him officially??? He was just a scared timid boy, no confidence! We had to HELP him get where he is now. And then you come along and just-" Tang throws his hands up in the air in frustration "-ruin that in a couple of weeks" he finishes with a growl. Wukogn shrinks further, this feels an awful like when he would get scolded like his master for doing something wrong and he didn't even have a defense for it. All of it was true. He did pick MK for little reason other than he likes the kid's spunk and good heart.

And he was making them fill big shoes. And maybe the big shoes were just too hard for MK to walk in, and maybe he noticed that but didn't help him because he assumed they would get better with time.

"I'm sorry…." He whispers out burying his face into the sheets of MK's bed. He whimpers feeling the guild nash and bites at the lining of his stomach.

"It's your fault...and I don't know if I want ML training with you anymore…."

It was all his fault.

His fault.

"Baba...Don't...yell at monkey king."

His head jerks up to find that MK was conscious now, a hand reaches for his head and scratches the top of it like he's a monkey.

"MK…" Tang starts and is cut off by MK who shakes his head.

"Not his fault….he's so lonely." The by comments driving a knife between Monkey King's ribs and stabbing his heart. Those fingers continue to scratch the top of his head deliriously.

"You need to rest, bud. If you don't rest you won't get better." He instructs holding back something in his throat that he realizes is a pur.

"Mmmmkay. Do I look okay?" They asked and Wukong chuckled at the odd question.

"You look fine. Just rest please." He pleads and MK nods his head drearily before drifting back to sleep. Tang and he look at each other, bewildered by the experience. Tang studies him for a moment, eyes drifting over his form at MK's side with the boy's fingers still intertwined with the fur on the top of his head.

Tang must find what he's looking for because his shoulders relax slightly

"You may continue to train MK…." He holds up a finger. "On the condition that you are open and honest with him AND us about his training." He instructs and Wukong nods

"You also cut back to every other evening instead of every night after work. You're going to break him and wear him out. If in a week I decide that's still too much it gets cut back again. Understand?" Tang looks expectantly to Wukong who nods his head up and down quickly. These rules were more than fair, he could do that! Hell, he would tell MK himself of these new rules if he needed to.

The door clicks

"Tang the doctor said those vital signs were normal right now. I TOLD you this" Pigsy enters the room and looks at the display before him. Tang is sitting by MK's side, holding his hand and the window opens slightly.

"Why did you open the window?"

"I-it was a bit stuffy in here" Tang admits looking to where Wukong was just a few seconds ago and then to the window. He must have escaped quickly when he heard Pigsy enter the room. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Pigsy grumbles something and walks to the window and shuts it. Then he trudges over to his lover's wide and buries his face into it.

"He's gonna be okay…." Tang reassures and the pig demon who lets put a huff through his snout into their chest. Tang kisses the top of Pigsy's head affectionately and that causes them to melt on his hold.

They all were going to be okay.

#monkie kid #lego monkey kid #MK #Sun Wukong #Monkey King #Tang #Pigsy #Tang's turn to be a protective dad #writting prompt #prompt ask

120 notes · View notes

pascalscenarios · 3 years

Text

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: After the ordeal with Frankie, You spend your time alone. In the mean time, Lilah plans on talking to you.

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2,909

Authors Note: Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter has me in my feels... I’m debating how long I should make this fic... I think I’m going up to 10, but we’ll see... Enjoy :) - K

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 5.5 | CH 6 |

Chapter 6

You were locked up in your bedroom. You didn’t dare to come out and face Alex. They were sweet, giving you space for a couple of hours to deal with your feelings after the whole Frankie ordeal. You were curled up in your bed, your eyes puffy from balling your eyes out. You staring out the window watching the rainfall.

He told you he loved you. Frankie told you he loved you. You knew he loved you, but after all these years he still wanted to be with you? He had a whole decade to make things right with you, but he decided to swoop in last minute a week before your wedding to fuck things.

He also had no right to tell you how to feel about him. How did you feel?

You heard a knock on the door.

“Babe?” Alex says softly opening the door. They watch you lie there on the bed.

They walk over sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Hun, you have nothing to be sorry about.” They rub your back comforting you.

You turn to face Alex, sitting up in bed, resting your back against the wall. You pulled the blanket up more, grabbing a pillow to clutch in your arms.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” your voice trembled.

Alex stays silent waiting for you to talk.

“When I went out with the girls clubbing, I got lost, I thought I called you, but I accidentally called Frankie. He came picked up, I crashed at his place, nothing happened, but I was hanging out with him today”

Alex looked relieved.

“But I haven’t been completely honest with you about Frankie…” You couldn’t look Alex in the eyes.

“The day we went cake testing, I told you Frankie was an old friend...he is an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but at one point we used to date...he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You confessed.

You kept spilling everything.

“I’ve never talked about him with you because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I found out why he left me, he has a daughter. I’m not mad at him at that, not one bit, but it just hurts that he didn’t tell me... and then he told me he still loved me. I know I shouldn’t care, because I’m not with him- I’m with you, but part of me does care-”

You scrunch your face, your lips trembling as you try to stop yourself from shedding tears, but they still manage to fall.

“Ever since he came back- I don’t know how I’m feeling and its suffocating, I’m so confused my head is just-”

“I think I should go,” Alex says.

“W-what?” Your eyes widen

“I think we need time apart” Your chest heaved as you heard them say that. Everything was crashing down on you. You bared your feelings and now he wants to leave you? The feeling you were getting felt exactly like the night Frankie left you.

“B-but the wedding is next week-”

“I know…” They move closer to the bed, grabbing a hold of your hands.

“I think you and I need to think things over alone. We need a couple of days to wrap our head around things, figure out what we want-”

“But I want you…Please don’t go, I’m sorry- ” You cried.

“Don’t be sorry. Look, it’ll only be a couple of days...After we thought about things, well come back and talk about us. We’ll figure things out, I promise, but right now, we need to think about if this is truly what we want, what you want.”

“Alex…”

“No matter what, I love you” They kiss you on the forehead, then leave the bedroom.

…

“My uncle Santiago who told me everything Rehma! The photos of the person in the shoebox was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They’re Uncle Santi’s cousin. They called them Smiles” Lilah was laying on her bed, staring at a photo of you, Frankie.

“That’s crazy! What happened between them?” Rehma, Lilah’s best friend, was over their phone call.

“Me…” Lilah signs placing the photo down, rolling on to her back.

“What, what do you mean you?”

“You know how I didn’t meet my dad until I was five...Well, he was with Smiles at the time.”

“Right, your mom didn’t tell him about you…”

“...Because he was with Smiles…”

“What? That’s why your mom didn’t tell him?”

“I mean I guess, my parents weren’t serious. They didn’t last long, they thought it was best to remain friends. Obviously, my mom should have told my Dad about me, but I don’t think she wanted to ruin what he and smiles had, but ultimately he was the one that ended up doing that.”

“What do you mean?

“He left smiles and went after me… for a whole decade they had no idea about me.”

“What a mess!” Rehma gasped.

“Tell me about it! but I just feel bad he left Smiles in the dust like that. This is the love of his life!”

“What about you? How are you feeling about all this?” Rehma asked.

“I have him. He’s forever in my life now. He loves me, I do not doubt that ever. He’s always put me and my needs first, I mean obviously, he’s a dad, that's the job, but it’s time he puts himself first. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m growing older, being more independent…I’ve never seen him be with anyone since the day he brought me home. I just want him to be happy you know.”

“Wow, that's-”

“That's why I'm going to talk to Smiles!” Lilah sits up in bed.

“Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do, pull a parent trap???”

“Some things like that…'' Lilah grabs the photo of you and Frankie, pulling out the shoebox that was hidden underneath your bed.

“I mean I think it’s cute you wanna set your dad up again with his childhood sweetheart, but what if this goes wrong?”

“Act now, think later, fuck it right?!” Lilah squeezes the phone between her shoulder and cheek, as she grabs her backpack, stuffing the boxes in.

“Moon!” Frankie shouted from the hallway.

“I gotta go!”

“Text me how it goes! If you need backup, call me!”

“Okay bye!”

“Moon?” Lilah quickly slips up the bag and hangs up the phone.

Frankie walks into Lilah’s room, finding her on the floor with her bag.

“Yeah, Dad?” She smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing..” She stands up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asks to lean against the doorframe.

“Is it okay if I go to Rehma’s? We have homework and a project to do…” Lilah lied.

“You just go home from school…”

“I know, but she's freaking out about everything. Mrs. Pike is kicking our ass lately with everything.

“Yeah, just be home before-”

“Thanks, dad!” Lilah quickly walks up to Frankie kissing him on the cheek and bolts out the door.

“-Sunset!”

“Got it! Bye love you!” She called out. Lilah was standing outside her house. She pulls out her phone, looking in her notes for your address she took down in her notes.

“Alright, Smiles… Where do you live?”

...

You spent Valentine's day alone, curled up on the couch, a pile of junk food around you, watching your favorite romantic comedies. You were doing the same thing three days later. You were wearing pajamas, your hair disheveled, your eyes still puffy from crying. It has been a terrible week so far.

You avoid thinking about everything, just wanting to take time to do absolutely nothing and veg out.

You were eating ice cream from the carton when you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t bother to get up and answer it. You just wanted to be left alone. The ringing became persistent. You groaned, setting the carton down on the couch and getting up to answer the door.

You open the door to find a letter on the ground with your name on it. You pick up the letter opening it.

Frontier Park @ 5:00 pm

You look up, scanning the neighborhood, there was no one around. Who could this be from? Alex? Maybe Santiago...Frankie?

You went back inside your house, checking the time. It was 3:45, almost noon. You looked at our messy living room. Maybe you should get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. You needed some fresh air and gained back a clear and unclouded mind.

…

You got changed and headed to the park. It was a nice day, with a slight cool breeze. You sat on the bench and overlooked the pond. You sat there admiring the beautiful flowers and the cute ducks that swam on the pond.

From the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you. It was a young girl. As she gets closer to you, you realize who she was. You stand up as she approaches you.

“H-hi…” she stutters, stopping in front of you. “I’m-”

“Lilah” you gasp. You couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Frankie. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you.

You extend your hand out, introducing yourself. You both sat down on the bench.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now…” Lilah says in a bit of shock.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you either...I’m guessing you’re the one who left the letter at my doorstep. Are you alright? Did something happen? Is Frankie okay?” You were concerned for her, Frankie even. You had no idea why you were meeting her, but if she needed anything, you were willing to help her.

Lilah smiled. You were just like Santiago in her eyes. You were concerned and caring just like him. “Yes, I am. Everythings fine, I’m fine...Dad’s... Sorta okay I guess…” she says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ambush you like this-”

“No! It’s alright... I - Just- How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?” Had Frankie told her about you?

“Uncle Santiago…”

“Of course” you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“I went to Uncle Santi’s house, he answered questions I had…I found your address in the junk drawer in his kitchen...I wanted to talk to you about you and my dad... Uncle Santiago to me everything…”

You stiffen. Why the hell would your cousin air out all your dirty laundry with Frankie out on his Daughter?

“My dad has an old Shoebox filled with old photos of the two of you hidden in the back of the hallway closet.” She pulled the shoebox out of her bag, handing it to you.

You take the lid off staring down at a stack of photos.

“I would catch him staring at them from time to time. I used to look through these photos without him knowing. I always wondered who you were. I knew you must have been someone important to him. My best was that you two dated, Uncle Santi, confirmed that, but I found Dad bringing it back out for the first time in a long time, about a month ago. He’s been different lately. He’s sad. He tries to hide it from me, acting like he’s fine, but I can see right through him.”

You shuffle through the photos, a sad smile on your face at the memories they brought back to you.

“I just wanted to apologize, I know what happened between you and my dad… I know I’m the cause-”

“No no no.” You shake your head, setting the photos down in the box between you, placing your hand on her back.

“Lilah, that wasn’t your fault. What happened between Frankie and I is between us. Your Dad needed to go after you, and I don’t blame him one bit for doing that, that would be selfish of me.”

“I wish he would have told you about me. I think it’s terrible that he left without saying anything. And all those years without knowing-”

“I wish he would have told me too, but what’s most important is that he has you. You’re all he needs”

“Yeah he does have me, but what he needs is you. You’re his missing piece to his puzzle. He could never love someone as much as he loves you and me.”

“Lilah…” You turn away from her, tears starting to form in your eyes at what she said.

“Look, I know you’re getting married a-and I know my dad hurt you, but I think you should be with him. You’re the love of his life...You’re the one that got aw-”

“Lilah!” You hear a man shout.

You see Frankie walking towards you both.

“Oh, shit” Lilah murmurs quickly standing, grabbing the shoe box, she had no time to hide away in her bag as well as you.

“Lilah!” He was angry. You quickly stand up

“Dad!-”

“Lilah what-” He stops talking, taken back by you standing beside his daughter.

“Smiles?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you confused. He turns his focus back on his daughter.

“Lilah, what the HELL are you doing?!”

“Dad, I-”

“You lied to me about where you were going?! You left your books at the house, I went over to Rehma’s, only for her parents to tell me you weren’t over there!”

“Dammit, I forgot to tell her the plan..” Lilah mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Lilah, what are you even doing?! And why are you here with my daughter?” He pointed at you. His eyes catch the box “Where did you get that?” he looks up at Lilah

“The hallways closet…I-I know about you and smiles…”

His chest heaves. “What is this?” He turns his attention towards you, staring at you tensely. “You are trying to get back at me for all the shit I did?! You really gotta drag my kid into this?!” he yelled.

“Frankie-” you tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let you speak

“I know I fuck up, but this is low! You don’t go meeting up with my kid and talk about our business! Why would you even-”

“I’m the one that asked them to meet me here!” Lilah spoke up.

“Lilah, how do you even know-”

“Uncle Santiago told me. He told me everything. Valentine's day when I told you I was a Rehma, I was at Uncle Santi’s house. I’ve known about the shoebox for years, Dad…”

He scoffs. “Of course he fucking did...Why are you here with smiles?”

“...I was…” Lilah looks down at the ground.

“You were what, Lilah?”

She sighed. “..I was trying to get them to take you back…”

“Oh god…” Frankie groans, rubbing his face.

“Dad, I’m-”

“Lilah! You can’t be serious right now!!!” he began to yell again.

“Dad, you're sad! I can see past the fake smiles and the facade you put up! I’ve seen the way you look at those photos! I thought I could-”

“You have absolutely NO right doing what you did!!! Lying to me, going behind my back, and getting involved in things you don’t understand and that are none of your business!!! You need to apologize to Smiles right now.”

Lilah turns to face you. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, you see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Go wait for me in the truck-”

“Dad-” she croaks.

“I said go wait in the truck. We’ll finish this conversation at home.” He says strictly.

Lilah listened to her father, quickly walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Frankie felt embarrassed and humiliated. He was angry with his daughter that she would put him in a situation like this.

“Frankie-”

“Don’t, Smiles...Just don’t.” He played his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He turns around, his back towards you. He stares off at the forest a few yards away.

“She meant well, Frankie…”

“Yeah, but nothing she does or planned on is going to change anything…” he chuckles.

“You’re still going to get married.” He turned to face you. He was crying.

It was the first time in a long while since you saw him cry. He bottled up his feelings, but he finally found his breaking point.

“I thought it was gonna be us you know. You were it for me. You were the one, but I fucked things up. I fucked things up so bad.” He cried, his eyes growing red. “I should have told you about Lilah. I should have never left you like that, the way that I did. I’ve regretted it every day. We’d probably still be together. A-and now you’re about to get hitched to someone that isn’t me in a couple of days.That should me! I should be the one waiting to see you walk down that aisle, that should be me you’re walking towards, not Alex…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“I’m gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Frankie..” you breathed. He walked up towards you, grabbing your side of your face, passionately kissing you. The kiss was desperate, he pulled you closer to him. He needed to kiss you one last time. You both pull away breathless, but he sneaks a few more short kisses before you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“I love you so much, Smiles... I’m sorry for everything.” With that, he pulls away from your grasp, walking away.

He leaves you standing alone.

Tags // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish @sara-alonso @lydiascottage @eternalkara

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #Frankie #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

107 notes · View notes

blueberry-sunghoon · 3 years

Text

"#welovejay" | jay park

*in this story, you are also a member of enhypen. you and jay are the main characters (though the other members are there as well). minor swearing warning (one "hell", one "ass", one "shit"). the story is 4,357 words long. i really hope you like this story. if you do, leave a comment if you want😊*

The time was 8:45 PM. You and the other Enhypen members were at the dorm, sitting around in the living room. You were all exhausted after a particularly long day of practice.

“I’m starving but I’m too lazy to get up,” Ni-ki groaned.

“I’ll make us some ramen,” said Heeseung as he got off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

~~~

At 9:05, all of you were eating the ramen Heeseung made and you had broken off into conversations. Jake and Heeseung were talking to each other, Sunghoon and Sunoo were talking to each other, and you were talking to Jungwon and Ni-ki. In the middle of your conversation, you realized that Jay was the only one without anyone to talk to. Not only that, he wasn’t eating; he was just staring at his food and picking at it.

You tapped on Jay’s shoulder. “Jay,” you said. No reaction. You tapped his shoulder again. “Jay?”

“Huh?” he said, startled, and turned to look at you. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Are you going to eat?”

Jay sighed. “I’m not really hungry.”

You could sense that something was wrong with Jay, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t want to pry any further. “Okay then. Let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

After that, the mood was somber and quiet for a few minutes, but eventually you all returned to your conversations. You were still worried about Jay, but you pushed your worries to the back of your mind.

When all of you (except Jay) finished eating, you decided you would clean up today since everyone was tired. As you started to collect everyone’s bowls, Jungwon stood up and said, “I can help with that.”

“No, that’s okay,” you said. “I can do it myself. You had a long day; you should rest.”

“But you’re tired too. You also had a long day,” Jungwon protested.

“Rest or I’ll take your elbows,” you said finally.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. “I guess if you put it that way. Are you sure you don't need any help?”

“Positive.”

~~~

Some time later, at 10:30, you were still cleaning up and washing the dishes when everyone (again, except for Jay) walked up to you. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can help with?” said Jake.

“100%. I’m completely fine,” you answered.

“Okay. Well, in that case, we’re all going to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone waved to you, said goodnight, and walked out.

“Wait, Jungwon,” you whispered to him before he could go anywhere. He turned to face you. You motioned for him to come over and he did. “Have any of you tried talking to Jay? I think something is wrong and he isn’t telling us,” you said as you kept your voice at minimum volume.

Jungwon sighed. “Yeah, I thought so too. Sunoo and I tried talking to him but he wouldn’t even look at us. I think it’s best if we leave him alone for now.”

“I think so too,” you said defeatedly.

The room went silent for a few moments. Eventually Jungwon broke the silence and said, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Jungwon walked out of the kitchen and you kept cleaning the dishes. Eventually you finished, but you looked over at Jay in the living room and sighed in frustration when you realized you had forgotten to take his dish. You walked into the living room and you found him sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. You then went to the small table where his food was and quietly asked, “Can I put this away?”

He didn’t look up from his phone; he just gave a silent nod.

So you took his dish back to the kitchen and put it in a food saver. Then you washed the bowl and went back to the living room to retrieve your phone. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jay didn’t acknowledge you, and you felt absolutely defeated. You were about to head to your room when you heard Jay say something.

“I can’t do anything without being made fun of.”

You paused for a moment to think about what he could have meant. Who was he talking about? You sat down next to him. “Was it something I said?” you asked softly.

Jay shook his head. “No, it wasn’t you.” Jay handed you his phone and said, “Look.” Confused, you took his phone and you saw the selfie he had posted on Twitter earlier that day. He was in the practice room and he was making a peace sign. “You see it?” he said.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Look at the comments.”

You realized what was making him so upset when you scrolled through the comments. All the comments were making fun of his double-jointed fingers. “Oh my god,” you said in complete disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

“Whatever,” Jay huffed. “It is what it is.”

You were at a loss for words, so the room went silent for a few moments. “I mean, does anyone take me seriously at all?! Literally everything I do, they find something to laugh at. I really spent three years as a trainee just to be someone’s meme.” Hearing his voice laced with sadness and anger broke your heart.

“Jay, you can’t focus on those comments; those aren’t real fans,” you tried to encourage him.

“I don't see anything else to focus on,” Jay said as he continued to scroll through the comments. “Do I even have real fans?”

“Jay, of course you do-”

He didn’t bother to let you finish your sentence. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. Jay’s voice was shaky and you could tell he was about to cry. He didn’t want you to see him shed any tears, so he said, “I gotta go.” And just like that, he left.

The living room was now empty except for you, and all of a sudden your emotions hit you like a truck. You felt mostly angry, though. You were angry at those commenters, angry at the fact that Jay felt like he had no real fans, angry at yourself because you didn’t know how to make Jay feel better… tears formed in your eyes and you didn’t try to stop them. You just stared into space as they fell down your face.

You had to prove to Jay that he had real fans. Did you know how? No. Were you going to rest until you did it? Absolutely not.

~~~

The time was now 1:28 AM. Following the vow you made yourself that you wouldn’t rest until you found a way to make Jay feel better, you were still wide awake, laying on your bed in your room (you had a separate bedroom from the boys). Your mind was racing trying to come up with an idea, but unfortunately you were in a constant cycle of coming up with a new idea and then throwing it away once you saw a flaw in it.

“It’s useless,” you thought to yourself. You took your phone from under your pillow and logged in to your secret Tiktok account. Belift let you have a secret Tiktok account, and you were grateful for that. Your page looked like a fanpage like any other, but being able to communicate with your fans without them knowing it was y/n from Enhypen, becoming mutuals with them, and participating in the trends they made really made your day. These days, the Sunoo cult was going around, and it was funny to see that pretty much everyone had the same profile picture.

All of a sudden, a lightbulb went off in your head. What if I started something similar for Jay? You ran to Twitter to find the selfie Jay posted that day and downloaded it. Then you opened a photo editing app, added heart stickers and sparkles all around it, and put some text that said “We love Jay”. Going back to Tiktok, you switched your profile picture to the one you just made.

It looks good, you thought, but how am I going to spread it? It wouldn’t be an easy task, especially since the Sunoo cult was still raging in popularity and you didn’t have much of an audience on Tiktok (71 followers to be exact). The only way to quickly spread the word was to post a Tiktok and expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen… expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen? said your head. No way. You’ll get in hella trouble and you know it. You probably wouldn’t be allowed on your secret Tiktok anymore.

Do you have any better ideas? said your heart. This would be the fastest way to spread the message. You’re y/n from Enhypen for goodness’ sakes, the fans would listen to you in a heartbeat. Besides, you aren’t doing this for yourself. You’re doing it for Jay.

What your head said made sense, but you would rather help Jay than help yourself. Like you did most of the time, you took your heart’s word for it.

You tried to think of where to film your Tiktok. Your room was definitely not suitable. Unless you wanted to film yourself whispering, the boys would definitely hear you. Your room was adjacent to theirs, and the wall between the two rooms was thinner than a piece of paper… well, not that thin, but thin enough.

You also considered the living room, but that was also a no-go because anyone could just walk in and see what you were doing. Eventually you decided to film it outside on the porch. There’s no way anyone would be going outside at this time (except you, of course). You slowly crept out of your room, into the hallway, into the living room, careful so as to make as little noise as possible, and eventually out the front door. You took a deep breath of relief and waited for your pounding heart to return to its normal rhythm.

You turned on the light next to the door so you could see, and then you pulled out your phone and started to record. “Hey everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen,” you started, but before you could continue you heard the front door open and there was Sunghoon.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

You panicked and your heart started to rush again. “I think the real question is, ‘What are you doing out here?’” you said, trying to laugh it off.

“I asked you first though,” Sunghoon said with a smirk. “But I’ll answer your question to humor you. I woke up and I was thirsty, so I made my way to the kitchen to get myself some water. But then I saw that the light outside was on, and I went to check it out. Then I saw you and asked you what you were doing out here.”

“Oh.”

“So what are you doing out here?”

“Well, um, I, you see, see I couldn’t sleep, right?” you answered, stumbling over your words. “So I came out here and started to record a -note video.”

You were sweating bullets and you could feel your heart going 100 miles per hour. By some miracle, though, Sunghoon couldn’t see how anxious you were and he said, “Okay then. Don't stay out too late. Don't forget we start shooting our music video in the afternoon, and we have to get some practice in before then.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“See ya,” said Sunghoon as he waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

That was way too close, you thought to yourself. I should hurry up and get this filmed before someone else sees me. Even though you were a K-pop idol and you were constantly in front of cameras, you still sometimes felt weird about recording yourself. It took a few takes, but you finally finished filming.

You turned off the light and quietly made your way back to your room so you could edit the video before posting it. You plopped yourself back on your bed and added subtitles to the video. Then you went to add a caption and some hashtags including #welovejay. Your thumb hovered over the “post” button and your head tried to interfere once again. y/n, before you post that, think! is it-

But you didn’t care for any of that; you posted the video without hesitation. Feeling better than you had all day, you decided it was time to get some shut-eye. You put your phone back under your pillow and let your eyes drift to a close.

~~~

Your alarm, which was “Fairy of Shampoo'' by TXT, went off at 7:15. You groaned because you didn’t want to wake up, but you liked the song so you didn’t turn off your alarm. Instead, you laid there with your eyes closed because you didn’t feel like opening them.

Then, all of a sudden you remembered the Tiktok you posted five hours earlier. You opened your eyes and feverishly opened Tiktok to see how the post did. You gasped when you saw that your Tiktok received 150,000 likes and over half a million views. Still in shock of how well your post did, you scrolled through the comments.

“changed my profile picture! #welovejay”

“OMG ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN MUTUALS WITH Y/N FROM ENHYPEN”

“b00sting so more people see this!!!”

You also saw that many of the people in the comments had the same profile picture you made. And #welovejay was used in over one million videos. It worked, you thought to yourself. It really worked! You were so happy that you started doing a little dancey-dance around your room. I can’t wait until Jay sees this.

~~~

At 10:45, all eight of you were in the practice room, taking a short break from practicing. You watched as Sunghoon and Sunoo made a Tiktok. They were doing the dance of “Me gustas tu” by Gfriend (Sunoo wouldn’t leave Sunghoon alone until he agreed to do it with him).

“Do you like this take?” asked Sunoo.

“It’s definitely better than the last one,” answered Sunghoon, “I think it’s okay to post.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Sunghoon wrote the caption for the video (“Just so you all know, Sunoo made me do this”) and posted it.

“Did you post the video already?” said Jake. “I want to see the comments. Engene's comments crack me up.”

Sunoo motioned for him to come over. “Yeah, we just did. Come and see.”

Jake walked over to where Sunghoon and Sunoo were. Sunghoon pressed the “comments” button, and all three were shocked by what they saw.

“How come everyone in the comments has the same profile picture?” asked Jake.

“I don't know, but it spread pretty quickly. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since he posted this picture,” Sunoo remarked.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked. You walked over to where the three were standing and looked at Sunghoon’s phone, and then you realized what they were talking about. A smile came across your face. “Wow, that’s really cool,” you said as if it wasn’t your doing. “Guys, you gotta come see this, this is really cool.”

“What is it?” asked Heeseung as he walked over with Jungwon and Ni-ki.

“Everyone has the same profile photo here,” Sunoo beamed.

Jay didn’t even bother walking over. If everyone has the same profile picture, there’s no way it’s me. It’s probably someone cute like Ni-ki. I’m the last person it could be. He stood aloof as he watched the seven of you gush over the picture.

“Jay-hyung, come see this!” said Jungwon.

Jay sighed and he reluctantly walked over. At least he could be happy for whoever’s picture it was instead of standing there jealous. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see. The second he did, his smile was so huge and it wouldn’t come off his face even though he tried to hide it. “Oh my god,” he said in utter disbelief. “Sunghoon, can I see your phone?”

Sunghoon handed Jay his phone, and Jay kept scrolling and scrolling through the comments. “This is insane. Everyone really made me their profile picture.” Maybe I do have real fans.

“The text on the picture is so small though, I can’t read what it says,” said Jungwon.

“Me neither,” said Ni-ki, and everyone else agreed.

Without thinking, you blurted out the answer. “It says ‘We love Jay’.” The seven boys immediately looked at you, and you realized your mistake.

“How do you know? That text is way too small and none of us can read it,” Jungwon inquired.

You hesitated for a moment, and then you replied, “Well if you click on one of the profiles and click on the picture, you’ll be able to zoom in and see what the text says.”

“Is that how you found out what it says? Because none of us clicked on any of the profiles.”

Oh. You didn’t think about that. There was no way around it now. Guess it was time to tell them the truth. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you heard the sound of your least favorite manager storming through the hallway and screaming, “PARK Y/N!!!”

“Holy shit, y/n,” said Ni-ki. “What did you do this time?”

You knew exactly what was about to happen. The manager burst through the door, anger scribbled all over her face. She walked over to where you were, and she pulled out her phone, revealing a screenshot of your Tiktok. She pointed the screen in your direction. “Park y/n,” she yelled in lower case, trying to calm herself down, “What. Is. This.”

The other seven pairs of eyes in the room were on you, expecting an answer. But you stayed silent.

The manager couldn’t keep her cool anymore. “Do you not understand Korean?? I asked you WHAT IS THIS???”

“A Tiktok,” you mumbled.

“Oh my goodness, y/n,” she started as she took a deep breath. “I’ve known you for eight long years, and of all of the ridiculous things you’ve done, this is by far the most audacious! What possessed you to do this, huh?! Do you remember the day I agreed to let you have a secret account?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Last I remember, the secret account was to be SECRET! Not known or not seen by the public. How could you go directly against our agreement?? Look at this - 700,000 likes! This was when I screenshotted it. Who KNOWS how many it could have now!”

700,000 likes? Wow, it blew up so much since I last checked. When I woke up it only had 150,000. You were so excited that your plan worked, and you didn’t realize that a tiny smile crept up on your face.

“YAH!” screamed the manager. “How can you be laughing right now?! Is that what you have to say for yourself?! Why did you even do this?!”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before you spoke. “Mrs. Choi, did you watch the video?”

“y/n, I don't give a rat’s ass what’s in your video. It's probably something stupid. There’s no reason you couldn’t have posted it on Enhypen’s official Tiktok.”

“I believe if you watch the video, you’ll understand why I posted it.”

“Nonsense,” she huffed as she opened Tiktok to find your video. “Let’s hear it.” The video started as she turned her volume all the way up.

“Hey, everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen. Um, this has been my secret account for a while. I guess it won’t be much of a secret anymore after I post this, and I’ll more than likely get in trouble for it, but I don't care. What I need to say is that important. You guys know Jay. Well, he’s having a tough time and I really wanted to encourage him. Do you guys see my profile picture? I made it myself. If you guys want to do me a favor, you can change your profile picture to this so we can show Jay how much we love him. I’ll put the picture at the end so you can crop it. If you don't want to change your profile picture that’s completely fine; you can also help by boosting the video so more people see it. Like, comment, share/copy link, use the hashtag #welovejay, whatever you need to do. If I don't post again on here, it means I got in trouble. Engene, I’m counting on you. Hwaiting!”

As the video ended, Mrs. Choi’s anger faded away. “Oh,” she said softly. “Did any of you know about this?”

“Yes and no,” answered Jake. “Sunghoon and Sunoo just posted a Tiktok, and we saw that all of the commenters had the same profile picture, but we didn’t know that it was y/n who started it.”

“I need to see this,” said Mrs. Choi. She searched for Enhypen’s most recent Tiktok on her phone and looked through the comments. “You know what y/n?” she said as she looked up from her phone to face you, “I respect you for this. I’m sorry that I got so angry at you.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“While I respect what you did, that doesn’t change the fact that you broke the agreement you and I had. I can’t let you go without consequences. Consider the secret Tiktok thing over. From now on, the only one you use is @enhypen. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said.

“Good,” she said. She took a deep breath. “Well, I’ll see the eight of you later at the music video shoot.”

You all bowed as you said bye, and Mrs. Choi took her leave.

After she left, the room went silent. You could tell that everyone else was thinking about what just happened and you tried to divert their attention to something else. “Well, we should get back to practicing.”

“Not so fast,” said Heeseung. “y/n, you’re the one who started the Jay profile picture thing?”

You looked at him and nodded.

“Respect,” he said. He extended his fist and you gave him a fist bump, and you smiled.

Out of nowhere, Jay gave you a back hug and rested his head on your shoulder. “Guys, can I talk to y/n alone for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course. Take your time,” said Heeseung. At that, the boys left the practice room, leaving you and Jay alone.

“You really did that for me?” he said softly.

“Of course,” you said without hesitation as you turned to look at him. “That’s what friends are for. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw all those comments. That moment was priceless. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

“I suppose so.” You noticed that Jay’s voice was a bit shaky. Then you realized why when you saw tears roll down his face.

“Jay-ah, why are you crying?” you said as you wiped his tears away.

“It’s my fault your Tiktok got taken away,” he said regrettfully. “I remember how excited you would get when you made a new friend on there. I really took away your greatest joy.”

“No you didn’t, Jay. I got my Tiktok taken away because I broke a rule,” you assured him.

“But you wouldn’t have had to if I-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupted. “You’re being too loud. I don't listen to Jay slander.”

Jay laughed a little and tried to hide his smile by looking away. “I see you smiling, Jay, don't try to hide it,” you said playfully.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are!”

“Okay, you got me,” Jay said as he pulled you in for a hug. “You best believe I’m going to bug Mrs. Choi until she lets you have your account back.”

“You can try, but don't be surprised when it doesn’t work.”

“It will. I’m her favorite, so she’ll have to listen to me,” Jay said confidently.

“Boy, since when are you her favorite?”

“Since forever.”

“You wish.”

“No, you wish.”

~~~

Two weeks later, you knocked on the door of Mrs. Choi’s office.

“Come in,” she said.

You walked through the door and bowed.

“You needed to see me?” you said. She was sitting in her desk and she didn’t look at you.

“Yeah,” she said. “Take a seat.”

You did as she said. Her eyes were still glued to the computer and she was typing something. You were worried because you had no idea what she was about to say, so you sat there nervously as your hands started to sweat.

Finally Mrs. Choi looked away her computer and turned to face you. She took a deep breath and said, “I regret to inform you that I’m allowing you back on your Tiktok account.”

“Regret to inform you”? You wanted to ask why she would regret that, but you didn’t want to say anything that might change her mind, so you simply said, “Thank you.”

She turned back to typing on her computer. “You should be grateful your friend is so annoying. Jay would not leave me alone until I agreed to let you have it back.”

“Oh,” you said. You had completely forgotten that Jay had said he would do that.

“Know this: you are on very, very, very thin ice. One more slip-up and it's over, no matter how much your friends annoy me. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. That’s all I have to say to you. Go back to whatever you were doing, and don't you dare forget what I said.”

Standing up to leave, you said, “I won’t. Thank you, Mrs. Choi.” You bowed once again and left her office.

Once you closed the door behind you, the first thing you saw was Jay across from you in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

“I told you it would work.”

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen timestamps #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen scenarios #enhypen writers #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay x reader #kpop #enhypen angst #enhyphen #belift

107 notes · View notes

pinkdoodoofart · 3 years

Text

Why are You Here? Jotaro x Reader Pt. 1

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

As a twenty-one-year-old mother, you opted to become a housewife. Taking care of household chores and your newborn baby, Jolyne while your husband, Jotaro worked as a marine biologist. Life for you was like that for about eight years till you thought about doing something else with your life. So after some thinking and debating with yourself, you decided to go to college and major in Veterinary Science. As a child, you had always wanted to be a veterinarian as your interest in animals and worrying about their safety was always prominent in your life. So bringing that dream to life after twenty years brought you joy and excitement. So here you were, up at 5:00 AM, laying in your king-sized bed alone preparing to get up for your first day at Palm Beach Atlantic University. Looking to the empty left side of the bed that was missing your husband left you a little dejected. You were hoping you would have woken up early enough to get ready with him. Yawning to yourself, you get up and heads toward the bathroom to freshen up. Setting the shower to the right temperature, you stepped instead and felt more awake than ever. While inside the shower, you started thinking about how college was going to be like. 'What if it's similar to high school? That was hell enough...' you thought in distress. Sighing to yourself, you fixated on finishing your shower and thought about getting ready to distract you from your nerve-wracking thoughts. After your shower, you quickly brushed your teeth and made your way downstairs to a big surprise. There he was, your husband, Jotaro in the kitchen making a cup of coffee. Now, Jotaro knew you were going to college as he helped pay for your tuition even though you said not to. He also knew you were going to one he was teaching at as he also recommended it to you. But what he didn’t know was that she was in one of his classes.

“Oh, Jojo! I thought you had already left," you exclaimed, hastily entering the kitchen to stand next to your husband. Grunting to himself his usual catchphrase, he looked at you before slightly grinning.

“I don’t leave the house as early as you think I do you. Besides I was going to give you a ride because we are going to the same place.” Blushing to yourself, a quiet thanks left your lips before you gave Jotaro a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Okay I need to make breakfast,’ nodding to yourself as to agree with your thoughts, you started to make your way towards the stove to make a simple breakfast of eggs and bacon for you and your husband to eat.

“Jotaro can you also make me a cup of coffee as well?” You asked, which in response you got a grunt that sounded like a yeah. After you finished making breakfast, you set up the dining room table with two plates of food while Jotaro brought the two cups of coffee. Both of you started to sit down and enjoy your meals. Even though Jotaro opted to eat in silence, you certainly did not. “Jojo, I hired a nanny to take care of Jolyne while I go to college and she will be staying with us in the guest bedroom until then.” Humming in response, Jotaro continued to eat, not knowing what else to respond with. Slightly huffing, you were hoping your husband would give you a little more attention and talk to you a little more. ‘Asking questions will only annoy him’ you thought. Realizing your attempts would be feeble, she just decided to stay silent and finish eating. Once the couple was finished, you took the plates into the kitchen to wash them with Jotaro not too far behind you. While washing the dishes, you could feel your husband come behind and hold you gently.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, kissing your cheek. Blushing again just like last time, you looked up at Jotaro with slight confliction.

“Just a little Joots. I mean I haven’t been to school in what? Eight years?” Sighing to yourself, you continued to wash the dishes. Rubbing your arms in response, Jotaro reassures you in his special way that she will be fine. After their little intimate moment, you check the clock to notice it's 6:15 AM and remembers to call the nanny. Detaching yourself from your husband, you made your way towards a wall phone in the kitchen and quickly dialed up the nanny’s number. The phone rang for a little while before the sound of the lady was heard. “Hi Anastasia, I just wanted to let you know you can come over now.”

‘Oh thank you! I will be there in about ten-fifteen minutes.’ Anastasia responded. Grinning to yourself, you quickly responded with a thank you of your own and a quick goodbye before hanging up. Turning around, you saw that your husband had left the kitchen. Confused, you leave the kitchen in search of your husband to find him sitting on the couch of their living room with papers in front of him. Slowly you walked up to him and sat next to him before latching onto his arm. “I got off the phone with the nanny, she should be here in a little bit.” Humming in response, Jotaro looks down at his wife for a few seconds before looking back at his disorganized paperwork. Noticing how unorganized the papers were, you offered to help but in response, you were given a quick no before he started to ignore you and continue organizing. Huffing slightly, you opted to make sure you had everything you needed before you could head out the door. Now noticing you left your bag upstairs, you quickly ran up the stairs to the master bedroom to retrieve it. Although before entering, you quickly checked your daughter Jolyne's room to check on you to make sure she was okay. Just as suspected, Jolyne was still in bed asleep surrounded by all you aquatic stuffed animals. Smiling to yourself, you quietly closed the door and quickly grabbed your bag from your shared bedroom. Running down the steps and looking through a bag probably wasn’t the smartest choice for you. Causing you to miss a step on the stairs and trip. But surprisingly, you didn't fall and neither did your stuff fall out of your bag. Feeling hands on the sides of your waist, you look over your shoulder, you noticed a tall purple ghost-like figure behind you. “Hehe, thank you star,” you giggled while walking down the stairs carefully. Finally reaching the living room from the stairs, you noted your husband staring at you intensely with concern.

“You alright?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Nodding slightly embarrassed by the small situation that occurred only a few minutes ago. Looking at the pastel blue clock in the corner of the room showed that it was 6:45 AM. ‘Shit… Where is she?’ thinking to yourself with slight frustration. Although not even 10 seconds after you ’s little tantrum in your mind, she heard a knock at the front door. Blinking slightly, you quickly ran through the living room to the front door to see the one person she needed to be there.

“I am so sorry I’m late, I got sidetracked a little.” Chuckling a little bit, you reassured her and invited her inside. Giving a quick tour of the downstairs of their house. A few compliments were thrown in for the decor and a few thanks before they reached the living room that held your cold and stoic husband.

“This is my husband Jotaro. Jojo this Anastasia, the nanny.” Turning his attention to the short lady he gave you a little nod before picking up the rest of his paperwork. Blushing to herself, Anastasia hastily said hello trying to make herself look professional and also slightly seductive for the man in front of her. There was no doubt in your mind that the nanny would think your husband was hot. I mean almost every woman did. “Alright Jolyne is upstairs asleep so please wake you up around seven-seven thirty, please. There also should be a list of things for you to do in the kitchen on the counter. If you have any questions, my number is on the list as well.” Anastasia nodded taking in the information given while also taking small glances towards the big man standing up. “Alright, thank you so much again. Jojo, we should get ready to leave.” Humming in response the couple started for the front door towards Jotaro’s white SUV. Sitting in the passenger seat, bag in hands, you felt a flurry of emotions consisting of excitement, worry, and also determination. The drive to the university wasn’t that long because they live close to the beach anyway. Unbuckling his seatbelt on the driver's side, Jotaro exited the car waiting for his wife in suit. Noting that she didn’t he sighed out a ‘yare yare’ before walking to the passenger’s door and opened it for his wife.

“Hey, you’ll be fine.” Looking up at your husband, you sighed and got out.

“I know I know, just first-day jitters.” Receiving a hum in response once again, you kissed Jotaro quickly on the lips smiling,” I’ll see you during lunch?” Nodding, Jotaro reciprocated the kiss and started walking towards the university, with you not too far behind him. Entering the building, you noticed that your husband was nowhere to be found and she was left all alone. Opting to ask someone, you slowly walked up to a tall woman with fair skin and freckles. Red hair to your shoulders and green eyes that are as green as leaves on a tree. “Um, excuse me…” you asked the fair lady. Turning to the voice that called out to you she looked down and smiled.

“Yes, is there something you need?” Looking down for a second, you blushed in embarrassment,” Um I’m new here and just needed some help finding some of my classes if that won’t be a problem.” Smiling again, the taller girl agreed to help, making the shorter girl happy. “Here’s my schedule…” Looking over it the taller of the two looked very pleased.

“Ahhhh! Surprisingly we’re in some of the same classes. Looks like it’s your lucky day hehe. I’m Esme by the way.” you smiled thankfully to meet someone nice before sharing your name. “So it seems like our first class is Microbiology.” As if thinking for a moment, Esme continued to study your schedule before smiling softly. “Are you by any chance going into Veterinary Science?” Quickly looking up at her, you smiled brightly and nodded with excitement.

“Yes yes! I’ve always wanted to help and take care of animals ever since I was a little girl.” Eyes lighting up in admiration and excitement, Esme grabbed you ’s hands and jumped up and down with the excitement of a 6-year-old before saying, “Ahhh no way me too!!! Animals are just so cute, it breaks my heart seeing them injured.” you nodded in agreement before looking at a clock on a far wall of the University. Almost not being able to read it, you read what looked like said 7:36. Eyes widening, you quickly ask Esme to take you to their class before they are late. Noting your rushing tone, Esme realized they might be late. Nodding in response, Esme led you to their first-period class.

Barely making it, both you and Esme make their way towards some seats in the back next to each other. Once they sat down, you took into inventory how the lecture hall looked. Very spacious, but also very bland. Grey walls with a basic faded carpet floor. Rows of long wooden desks with a set of wooden stairs in the middle.

“Ahem.” Eyes forward you notice a man who looked to be in his 40s standing in front of the class in a nice white dress shirt, black dress pants, and nice black shoes. “My name is Mr. Brando, and I will be your Microbiology teacher this year.” Feeling an elbow jab to my side, you quickly turned to see Esme leaning over to say something, “He’s kinda hot.” Gasping slightly to yourself, you looked towards Emse with disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try and fuck him or something.” Slightly taken aback, Esme scoffs while blushing.

“Of course not! He’s just kinda hot..” Shaking your head, you turned to face Mr. Brando, only to find him staring at you intensely.

“As I was trying to say, I’m not going to be easy on you. This isn’t high school anymore where I would take pity on you. If you don’t have your homework, it will be an automatic 0.” Still staring at you with his intense gaze, he smirked and continued, “Any questions before we begin class?” ‘Why is he staring at me like that?’ you thought with a shiver running down your back. With no questions being asked, Mr. Brando started class. Two words went through your thoughts, ‘This sucks…’ Sighing, she continued to take notes and tough it out till class was over. While taking notes she couldn't help but feel eyes on you every 5 minutes. Looking up, you noticed Mr. Brando’s eyes are on you again before going back to looking at his notes. Noting your discomfort, Esme nudged you in a way to ask if she's okay. ‘God this is such a high school thing but whatever.’ you thought before ripping a piece of paper and wrote, ‘Mr. Brando keeps looking at me.’ Passing the note towards Esme, you looked at your face for any reactions. Going from shocked to disgusted. Looking at you with sympathy, Esme flipped the small piece of paper over and started writing your response. Once she was finished, Esme handed the note back and looked at Mr. Brando with intense dislike. Different from when she was practically gushing over his looks. Looking down at the note, you ’s (E/C) scanned the paper reading, ‘Yeah we have a few of those types of teachers. If he does anything, report him immediately.’ Nodding to yourself, you continued listening to the lesson.

The class was finally over. ‘God that was boring.’ you thought before packing up quickly to leave.

“C’mon we gotta hurry to our next class,” Esme exclaimed. Nodding while giggling, you grabbed your bag and walked down the stairs towards the door of the lecture hall with Esme.

“I noticed that this is your first year of college. I hope you enjoy it~.” Freezing, you turned around to see Mr. Brando stared at you with red eyes and a small smirk on his light brown skin.

“Um, thank you, Mr. Brando...” Grabbing your arm, Esme dragged you out of the room, feelings of disgust running through her. Once out, Esme immediately gagged.

“God what a weirdo. Why do the hot ones have to be creeps,” Esme whined. You weren't not paying attention to your newly acquired friend. Instead, you were more focused on why Mr. Brando kept staring at you in such an eerie way. Shaking your head to remove the bothersome thoughts, you continued walking to your next class.

Your next few classes weren’t that bad and some were pretty enjoyable. So now, you are heading out to have lunch with your husband.

“How was the first part of the day?” asked Jotaro. Feeling a small shudder shoot through your body, you looked at your husband with a slightly disturbed face.

“Well, I have a creepy Microbiology teacher. He stares at me a lot and says if I need any help ask him.”

“Who’s your Microbiology teacher,” Jotaro asked with his grip tightening around his plastic fork. Staring at his fist, you responded with the name that your husband dreaded the most. In just a matter of seconds, the fork snapped in half and the gaze from your husband made you shrink back a little. “If he does anything, and I mean anything, you tell me alright?”. With a nod, you continued to eat and talk about the rest of your classes she had so far.

Once finished, you kissed your husband goodbye and went to your second to last class. Entering the room of organic chemistry. Sighing, you decided to sit in the front so she could get to the door faster. ‘I can’t wait for my next class,’ smiling to yourself closed and closing your eyes imagining what might happen. A few scenarios were bad and some were good. Though she was just going to have to wait patiently.

“Hello class, I am Mr. Kakyoin. I will be your organic chemistry teacher this year,” a familiar voice said. Looking up, your eyes widened at the sight of your teacher.

“Noriaki?” you asked. The said person turned towards you with wide eyes and a smile.

“Y/N! It's good to see you! Let’s talk after class.” Nodding in response, you quickly started to engage in the lesson.

'My willpower to stay awake is scampering away... this is so boring.' You thought with disinterest. "And that concludes our lesson for today. Any questions?" Mr. Kakyoin finished with a smile. Noting the silence, he looked around to see almost his whole class looked bored. Sighing to himself, Mr. Kakyoin looked towards the class and said, “Just wait for the bell I guess.” Once the bell has rung, all the students except yourself have left the room to go to their next class. Walking over to Mr. Kakyoin’s desk, you grinned widely.

“It’s been so long Kakyoin!” Getting up from his seat, Kakyoin made his way towards you and gave you a tight hug.

“Y/N, we’ve been friends for years, call me by my first name.” Chuckling to yourself, you nodded in response. “So how have you been anyways?”

“Pretty good. I’m majoring in Veterinary Science. I would have gone to college sooner, but I had Jolyne earlier than expected… But I’m happy she’s here regardless. A bundle of joy is what she is! Anyways how about you Noriaki,” you rambled. Chuckling to himself, Noriaki responded, “You still haven’t changed huh Y/N? Still a rambler. I have been well, I’m married with a child on the way.” Eyes widening, you grab onto Noriaki in excitement, “Congratulations Noriaki! I’m so happy for you! How many months?”

“She’s about 4 months in.” The conversation continued on for what felt like hours before both realized you had to leave. “Here let me write you a pass. I had fun talking to you.”

“Thank you Noriaki, here take my number. We need to hang out more. Bye bye!” You responded before rushing off to find your next to class.

Finally making it, you stepped inside and saw what you have been the whole day to see. Your stoic husband.

“Why are you here?” Jotaro asked. Giggling to yourself you respond cheerfully, “This is my last clas….”

“Why are you late?” Feeling irked by being cut off, you respond again but this time with slight irritation, “I was talking with another teacher.”

“Yare Yare, take a seat.” Listening to the simple order, you sit down in a seat next to a cute looking girl in the front. You sadly, missed the first half of the lesson meaning you were already behind. ‘Great… I’m most likely gonna have an earful after this class,’ you thought to yourself. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you turn to see the girl you decided to sit next to you staring at you intensely.

“Um, can I help you?” You whispered.

“I don’t know how you guys know each other? but I want to let you know that he’s mine.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded in response before paying attention to the lesson. ‘Damn my husband and god-like appearance.’

Another class that was a bore to be in.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Jotaro asked. Once again, a silence room of college students was what he received in response. Sighing in response, he waved them off and waited for the bell.

Once the bell had rung, everyone except you once again had left for the day. While you were still packing up, you jumped slightly to hands slamming down on your desk.

“Why the hell are you in my class?”

“Calm down Joots, I just chose this class because I need another credit…. and maybe because I wanted to see my husband at the end of the day…” Sighing in response, your husband looked at you before heading towards his desk and grabbing his stuff and heading out the door. “Waaaaah wait for me Joots!” You run out of the room only to bump into a muscular chest.

“Yare Yare, let’s just go home.”

Heading towards the car, you both get into your respectable seats and head home. The car ride was silent, but you can tell your husband is still not so thrilled about you being in his class. But knowing you, trying to change your mind to choose a different class would be feeble.

Once home, you both entered the house and was immediately greeted with a big hug.

“Welcome home mommy and daddy!” exclaimed Jolyne. Smiling brightly you hugged Jolyne back before walking towards the living room seeing Anastasia with Jolyne’s homework on the coffee table completed.

“Welcome home Mr. and Mrs. Kujo.”

“Thank you, how was Jolyne?” You asked.

“Oh she was wonderful. An absolute sweetheart. By the way, I have made dinner and it’s in the kitchen if you want to eat.” Thanking her once more you head upstairs to your shared bedroom to drop off your school stuff and sit on your bed exhausted. Hearing the bedroom door open, you see your husband standing there as exhausted as you.

“Look Joots, I’m sorry about me being in your class, but I'm not changing classe….”

“I'm not going to give you an advantage because you're my wife. I hope you know that.” Huffing in annoyance you respond with a quick yeah.

‘This is going to be harder than I thought.’

This is honestly pretty old and im probably going heavily edit it but i hope you enjoy the first part of this story.

#jjba #jotaro x reader #poc friendly #jotaro x black!reader #noriaki kakyoin #DIO #baby jolyne #jojo #slow updates

113 notes · View notes

warpriest-writings · 3 years

Text

Red eyes on Grandmother's grave.

Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud.

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen.

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent.

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!”

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.”

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.”

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program.

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.”

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field.

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!”

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin.

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind.

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while.

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher.

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting.

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.”

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk.

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.”

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.”

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice.

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well. It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast.

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!”

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun.

End Chapter

PayPal

#Red Eyes on my Grandmother's grave #wip #paypal

12 notes · View notes

catwatcha · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Chan x Reader Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst Word count: 1549

Warnings: cursing & smut Authors note: Minho is calling Chan by Chris in this because that is what he goes by with him.

PT.1 PT.2

Something that doesn’t sound insane.

Minho’s P.O.V.

*Beep, beep, beep*, I rolled over to the familiar and annoying sound of my alarm clock. The events of the previous night flooded my head, about how I couldn’t get any damn sleep because Chris kept me up all night rambling in his sleep. He ended up then leaving at about 3am, tripping down every stair. Asshole. It was now 6:30am, and I was dreading school. I got up and threw on an outfit for the day, and tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes. I was on my way out when I got a text from Chris.

Can you grab me a coffee before school? Overslept and running late.

I replied, You owe me.

Thanks mate.

Lucky for him, I was tired as well but I had a few minutes to spare. I drove to Starbucks, but saw that there was a long line as usual so I decided to go somewhere else. I drove around downtown until a small cafe caught my eye. I got out of the car and was about to walk in when I saw a girl standing out front looking uneasy and paranoid. “Are you okay?” I said when I walked over, and she jumped at the sound of my voice. I think she studied my face for a moment before she sighed and said, “yeah I’m fine. Just looking for someone, but I don’t think they’re gonna show up.” I thought about that for a second. I went to school on the other side of town, but I knew a lot of people, as I have lived here my whole life. “Who is it?” I asked. “Maybe I’ll know them? I’ll kick their ass for standing you up.” I laughed and her face lit up for the slightest moment, before hostility took over. “It’s not like that and I don’t- I don’t know..” She trailed off. I stood there wondering if she was actually gonna answer me, and I realized I needed to get to school with Chris’ coffee before he had a full on meltdown. Right as I opened my mouth to speak, she said, “Well his name is Chan and I just had a feeling he might be here but now I don’t know anymore.” I was confused. She didn’t actually know if she was meeting someone? Well ok. “I don’t know the name,” I said. “But if I see anyone who looks like a Chan, you’ll be the first to know.” She gave me a small smile before walking back to what seemed to be her car and drove off. I looked at the time; 7:45. Goddamnit Chris, now I’m late. Why couldn’t he get his own coffee?

Y/n's P.O.V.

When I got to my car I sat for a while, thinking about what I had just done. I told a complete stranger about Chan, I knew he wouldn’t be there. I don’t know why I did, I don’t know why I thought he would be. Most of all, I don’t know why I thought that someone would actually know who he was. When I finally collected myself I started my car and made my way to school. When I finally got there Jasey was waiting for me at my locker and had a worried look on her face. “Are you okay?” You just left and then didn’t answer my calls or texts!” I opened my locker and sighed, was I really going to try and explain something I couldn’t even understand. “I just had a migraine.” I tried to offer as an excuse but she wasn’t having it. “Come on Y/n, talk to me.” She puts her hand on my arm and I sigh once again and stop my movements “Okay,” I take a deep breath “But you’ll have to stay open minded.” Just as I begin to open my mouth the bell rings and I slightly smile to myself. Saved by the bell. “Just meet me at my place after school.” I gave her a small smile and walked to class, silently thanking the school for being useful for once.

The end of the day came a lot faster than I thought it would. I dozed off a few times, but was actually thankful that I wasn’t thinking of Chan today. I’m still trying to brush off the embarrassment from yesterday. Now it was time to try and explain to Jasey why I wasn’t just dreaming about him anymore. I thought about what I was going to say to her knowing already that she wasn’t going to let this go very easily. When I get to my car I wait for Jasey to climb in. After a few minutes of waiting, I’m scrolling through my phone when I hear knocking on my window that caused me to let out a scream. “Jasey you almost gave me a damn heart attack! Get in the car,” I said while trying to calm the panic she had caused in me. “Sorry, I couldn’t find your car,” she said while laughing at how horrified I was. Great, I thought. I can barely get any words out now, what the hell am I gonna do when she presses me about Chan? I started my car and just hoped she wouldn’t bring it up. Of course, I was mistaken.

“Y/n, you know you’re gonna have to tell me sooner or later why you were confessing your lovefor this man you’ve never even met!” She said. I thought about it, and decided to go with the sarcastic answer. “Later?” I replied. “Later really works for me.” She rolled her eyes at me. “You are so difficult. Please please please?” She said, and I turned up the music in my car before she could say please another ten times. We pulled into my driveway, and I walked to my front door with her right behind me. I took out my key and unlocked my door, but before I opened it I said, “Jasey. I hope that you know that what I tell you once we are inside, stays between us. Okay?” “I know, I know! Besides, who am I gonna tell?” she almost yelled the words, and it startled me a bit but she was my best friend. We told each other everything, so me keeping a secret from her probably has her on edge. I walked in and started up my stairs, thinking of where to begin.

As I sit on my bed a million thoughts run through my head and all I want to do is lay down and dream of Chan. Jasey sits on the end of my bed and I take a deep breath as my heart begins to race. “Jasey I don’t know…” She groans. “No, no backing out.” I realize there is no getting out of this. There is no more stalling, and there is no more keeping all of Chan to myself, I have to share him. “Okay” I nod my head a few times and take another deep breath. “Okay, so a few weeks ago I noticed I was losing sleep. I couldn’t figure out why until I saw his face… Chan,” She nodded already have heard this part of the story “I’ve never met him before but I feel like I’ve known him forever. Jasey, he’s quite literally the man of my dreams. I can’t stop thinking about him…” I sigh and play with my fingers. “Every time I close my eyes he’s there, every time I sleep, I dream of only him. Every time I want to see him I just have to think about him and I’m taken to a place where he is. I can’t get him out of my head, and honestly I don’t want to. I don’t want to give him up because he has become a part of me.” I stop and breath letting myself tell her all about the man I can’t forget. “I don’t know how that’s possible and maybe they’re just dreams of some boy I saw on the street. Maybe they mean nothing, but maybe they aren’t. I’ve grown to love this boy and I’ve never even met him. I’ve never actually spoken to him and I feel like I know everything about him. I’m serious when I say that I see him every single time I close my eyes, and I don’t know why, or how, but I know everything about him. And he knows everything about me. I can’t control what I say or do, but it’s been perfect. It’s literally been a dream.”

I didn’t realize that I had been rambling, and I looked up to a wide eyed Jasey. I also hadn’t realized I was crying until I wiped a few tears from my face. I didn’t know what else to say, and from the looks of it she didn’t know either. Minutes passed by before she finally leaned in and just held me. More tears escaped my eyes, and knowing what I had just said out loud just made everything seem so much more vivid. “Y/n.” I looked up, startled by the broken silence. Jasey looked me straight in the eye and said, “I have a secret too.”

#bangchan fluff #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz bang chan #skz x reader

44 notes · View notes

peggyrose19 · 4 years

Text

Everything Was Falling Apart Pt. 2

Part 2 here we go! This might end terribly, we’ll see. More angst, as I’m sure you all expected. What will they decide? Who knows. Certainly not me. I just let them do what they want. Anyways. This is kinda mixing the timelines/storylines of both Clandestine and SW so it might be a tiny bit confusing to follow? Idk, I tried my best to make it make sense. Last part was more from Finn’s perspective so this time you get Logan. Whee. That was not intentional, it just happened. Did I mention I just write what they tell me to? Well, I do.

Part 1 is here if you haven’t read it yet.

Also I lied, there will be a part 3 hehe. I just really love leaving you guys in suspense. Sorry not sorry :)

Characters belong to the amazing and lovely @lumosinlove and AU belongs to the wonderful @heyitssmiller.

Logan missed him. He tried and tried to ignore the feeling but he did. Finn was constantly on his mind, with his soft hair and green eyes and loving smile. He missed Leo too. But that was a different pain. The kind of pain that never left. The kind of pain that stuck in his mind when he closed his eyes at night, curly hair stained with blood, brown eyes wide and unblinking flashing past his eyes.

He was in Australia for Leo’s birthday. It was warm there, the seasons opposite to what he was used to. He woke up and found he couldn’t get out of bed. He just lay there and thought about blond curls and dimples and a laugh he’d never hear again. Finn texted him. He didn’t answer. And when his tears had soaked through the pillow, he rolled over and tossed it off the bed, falling into an uneasy sleep until morning.

He was in England for Finn’s birthday. It rained the whole day and he sat unmoving by the window, phone in his hand, thinking of his wide smile and bright eyes and the absence of both the day they’d said goodbye. He couldn’t bring himself to dial the number.

He would have forgotten about his own birthday was it not five days before Christmas. And if his sisters hadn’t bombarded him with messages and questions of when he would be home again. He called them all, faking a smile for them, and promised to be home for Christmas next year. But he had a feeling they saw right through him. Everything was falling apart.

The night Logan flew into JFK airport, he received a voicemail from Finn. It surprised him; Finn had given up contacting him months ago after too many messages had gone unanswered. He pulled it up, pressing play absentmindedly, knowing he wasn’t going to reply, telling himself he was listening to it only to know what he’d said.

But this time something in Finn’s voice pulled him up short.

Hey Lo. I miss you.

It’s been a year since… well. But you know that of course.

I just- I know you’re in New York. Don’t tell me you’re not, we both know it’d be a lie. Can I- can we… I want to see you. Please. It’s been so long. Just… give me a call when you land. Or don’t. Whatever. I just- we need to talk.

I love you.

Logan stood frozen, unaware of the world, everything falling apart around him. The people rushing around him, the announcement being made, the whir of the baggage claim starting up all went by unnoticed. He just stood, staring down at his phone, at the voicemail and the name Finn O’Hara beside it. Finn’s words rang through his head. That was not what he had been expecting.

With shaking hands, he dialed the number.

Finn answered on the first ring.

“Hello?” his voice asked, uncertain and quiet and as familiar to Logan as the green of his eyes, ingrained forever in his mind. Unthinkingly, Logan released a soft sigh.

“Hey, Finn,” he said quietly.

“It’s really you.”

He took a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you’d call.”

“Me neither. But your voicemail… fuck, Finn. I- yeah, I’d love to see you.”

“You would?” Finn’s voice rose.

“Yeah. I miss you.”

“Coffee tomorrow?”

Logan forced his nerves down, refusing to get his hopes up about anything. “Sounds good.”

He could almost hear Finn’s smirk as he added, “Or whatever the fuck it is you drink. Cause it certainly isn’t coffee.”

“Fuck off,” Logan let out a startled laugh.

Finn laughed a little too. “So, tomorrow. Does 9:00 work? And there’s a cafe just down the street from my place if you wanna go there. I can send you the address.”

“Sounds good,” Logan managed, voice tight.

“Alright. I’ll see you then Tremz. Don’t bail on me.” He said it jokingly but they both heard the truth beneath it.

“I won’t,” he promised softly.

Finn hung up with a soft click and Logan stood rooted to the spot. He wasn’t sure what to think. Finn had called him. He had called Finn. And Finn had answered. They’d talked. They’d made plans. After a year of not speaking, of not seeing each other, not even being in the same time zone, they were going to coffee tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure he was even going to make it there.

But he had promised. He had promised Finn he would show up and so he would.

He would not fall apart.

Logan woke the next morning having slept a total of two hours. Each time he drifted off, his thoughts betrayed him again, turning back to his date with Finn over and over until he wanted to reach into his mind and pull them out simply for a moment of peace.

He dressed anxiously, changing half a dozen times before forcing himself to stop. For the next hour, he paced the small hotel room, television playing in the background, running his hands through his hair, never quite able to break the habit.

Finn had texted him the address the night before. It was only a ten minute walk and so, at promptly 8:45, Logan left the hotel and hurried down the street, following the blue line on his phone.

It took him only seven minutes to get there. He loitered outside for a moment, watching the city. The streets were crowded like always, cars and pedestrians all trying to get somewhere in a hurry. An old conversation passed through his mind as he waited, a night out with Finn and Leo before they’d gotten together.

“Should we have gone left?”

“We’re literally following the blue line.”

“I know, but that way looks shorter.”

“New Yorker, forever in a hurry.”

The conversation brought the sting that normally accompanied thoughts of Leo. But it faded a bit as he remembered that night, Leo asking them questions about their histories, how they’d met. Neither of them had told the true story of how they’d met, that night at the party, both drunk and flirty and not quite thinking straight. He remembered Leo’s smile, the dimples he’d fallen in love with the first time he’d ever seen them. He remembered Finn’s bright smile and care-free attitude, getting sappy and losing coherent speech with each drink he consumed. And he wished, just for a moment, he could go back to that night.

A hand on his shoulder shook him from his thoughts. He startled, whipping around on instinct. But as soon as he caught sight of the person now in front of him, he froze.

Finn looked nearly the same as he had a year ago. His curls were unruly as ever, falling around his eyes, just a little bit longer. His eyes were dimmer, more subdued than they usually were. No smile graced his face, but he wasn’t frowning.

“Hi,” Finn said softly and Logan nearly melted.

“Finn.” Without a second thought, Logan crashed into his arms. Finn held him close and it was as if no time had passed at all. Their bodies molded together the way they always did, and the feeling of home nearly made Logan cry. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed physical contact until suddenly he was being held again, for the first time in probably a year. Without a word, he buried his face in Finn’s shoulder, hair brushing his cheek.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Finn whispered fiercely into his ear. He pulled away, but kept his arms around Logan, as if afraid he would run if he let go.

“Me too.” He sniffed, telling himself it was just the cold air making his eyes water.

“C’mon, let’s go inside. I have so much to fill you in on.”

They went into the café, charming and small, and got in line, Finn asking Logan question after question about where he’d travelled and what he’d seen. They skirted around the reason he’d left, pretending it had all just been a long vacation. They ordered and sat down, Finn only teasing him a bit about his ridiculously sweet coffee, before continuing his questions.

It was only after they’d exhausted talk of Logan’s travels that silence fell between them.

“I wish Leo was here,” Finn said eventually.

“Me too.”

“He could’ve made us those amazing muffins of his, remember those?”

Logan smiled. “Yeah. Brought ‘em in our first day of the mission. Mon dieu, those were good.”

“Yeah, they were,” he agreed.

“How have you been?” Logan asked. “And tell me the truth. You’ve been bombarding me with questions since we got here. I don’t even know what you’ve been up to.”

Finn sighed. “It’s been really fucking hard. That’s the truth. Because not only did I lose Leo, then I lost you too. And you don’t- you never answered my calls or my messages. I needed to talk to you and you wouldn’t pick up. I had to go through that without you. You were the only other person who knew how I felt, and we could’ve helped each other. But you refused to even look at me, and-” Finn shrugged helplessly- “I’ve tried really hard to forgive you, Lo. But I’m not sure I can. You haven’t made it easy to love you.”

“You still love me?”

“Of course I fucking love you! I never stopped!”

Logan was taken aback by the outburst. He glanced furtively around the room to see if anyone was looking at them, but no one even glanced their way. Finn noticed and sighed.

“Logan, I don’t want to go another year without talking to you. It was torture. I know… I know that we can’t be us again, not the way we used to be, not without Leo. But can we at least be friends? Tremz, I miss my best friend. Please. Don’t walk away from me again.”

Silence fell between them and Logan surveyed the man before him. The man he’d once loved with all his heart, once vowed to himself to never let go, to protect and love and cherish. That had been a year ago. A lot had changed in that year.

But as Finn waited for his answer with bated breath, Logan realized he didn’t want to run anymore.

#angst #more angsty angst #love you guyssss #hehe #mentions of death tw #mentions of blood tw #lumosinlove #clandestine #o'knutzy #sorry not sorry

102 notes · View notes

2996-sana · 4 years

Text

Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #rosé x reader #rosé imagine #blackpink scenarios

226 notes · View notes

supermanshield · 3 years

Text

Naps are overrated, anyway

~~~

There is a picture in the watchtower cafeteria of Superman and Batman, asleep on the Javelin.

This is the story of how it came to be, and why Batman let it be.

~~~

Words: 4,092

Relationship: Clark/Bruce

A/N: I had the idea for this story a year ago. For the longest time, the summary you see right now was all I had typed out. Only now, after reading a bunch of JLA vol. 1 did I finally find the right characters, the right feeling and overall vibe, and wrote this in the past three days.

It doesn’t completely comply with continuity, because while I imagine this set somewhere in the 1997-2006 JLA run, Bruce mentions 6 kids (he would have only had 2 at the time + a dead Jason), although they don’t make an appearance. And I'm actually not sure if the Javelin is a thing in that run, maybe that's just a DCAU thing. Just go with it.

Also, Bruce is a bit of a boomer in this. idk, I had fun writing him.

Read on AO3

______________________________________________

Batman doesn’t nap.

However, that is not to say that Bruce doesn't. He's nearing 45 years of age, not a grey hair on his head, but if he were to grow a beard now, or a moustache like his father, it would show a mix of salt and pepper, so he shaves it off, vigorously and every day. Moustache and beard, those are the first things to turn grey. Then the eyebrows. When that happens, Bruce will lose. He will give in to his age and keep his beard. Not yet. If Clark ever walks in on him during his morning ritual (probably soon), he will look at him with that forgiving smile. He will say what he thinks of it, because that's what he does. (Keep it, I like it, Bruce hopes secretively, but there is a sadness present in Clark's eyes that he will never completely understand, and that's exactly why he shaves).

Clark has seen it already though, he's sure. His 5 o'clock shadow must look like a foggy forest to Clark’s microscopic vision, and even worse in the morning, right before his shave. Clark hasn't mentioned it. A conversation for another day.

If his children ever found out about this particular insecurity, all 6 of them would laugh.

Bruce never really napped, or took time out of the day to simply rest, but now, Clark is there. To pull him onto the couch in the study when he's on his way to his desk. To keep him in bed after sex and before patrol. To fly through his window at WE at 50 floors up and pat next to himself on the couch in Bruce's office, door locked, and red cape hung up in the corner.

"It's time," he says. Every time. "You need one."

Bruce will raise his eyebrows. "Already, hmm?" he asks, almost every time.

He's made the mistake of sending him away before. (He won't do that again). Clark is the most stubborn man Bruce knows. He will say the same thing about Bruce, but that's beside the point. And It's not as if Clark distracts him from a case or work; he knows exactly when he has some time and is unable to make excuses.

Bruce is used to taking 20-minute power naps in uncomfortable positions on his desk chair, at the kitchen table behind the newspaper, with his feet up in the batmobile.

Clark sets the alarm for one hour. He pulls Bruce into a horizontal position against that broad chest, either spooning him or facing him, encasing him in his large arms (there are still 76 ways out of his hold, but Bruce can't think of a single one worth a try). They sleep.

Apparently Clark needs naps too, even though he doesn’t need sleep. Bruce has been meaning to ask him about that, wonders if it's a mental thing, a kind of meditation. Therapy.

His naps are dreamless. Afterwards, his return to consciousness is quick, he reorients on the surroundings, on Clark. Kissing him is a good strategy for grounding, Bruce has found. And just like that, they get on with their day again, because there is no time for dwelling, for another moment together. Nevertheless, Bruce is happy with what he does get. It’s more of Clark - and more time with him - than he deserves already.

So, Bruce naps.

---

After a long mission off-world, the league is on their way home towards the watchtower in the javelin. Diana is flying, with J’onn at her side in the co-pilot chair. The rest of them are hauled up in the back of the vehicle, they’re tired, exhausted, just trying to get some rest. Even Wally sits still. Only Batman is pacing up and down, his mind already on Gotham, on home, the cases that were open, the ones that he was *this* close to cracking. Batman doesn’t nap.

His mind is wandering, going at a speed that would make even Clark dizzy, but the puzzle pieces don’t make sense. Yet. His heavy boots are silent on the metal floor of the javelin, his cape a mere whisper of wind behind him as he turns to pace the other way again.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Hawkgirl’s voice cuts through the relative silence of flying through space (beeping, machinery, turbines, the jet - there’s a lot). She holds up one of her large wings, cutting Batman off from his path. “Sit down.”

He does. Next to Superman. A big mistake, although he doesn’t realize it until much later. No need to upset his teammates. He can meditate instead, stay awake. The noise of the jet doesn’t make it easy, but it can be done. Clark smiles calmly at him.

He sits straight, eyes open, breathing focused, and the turmoil in his brains slows down. Soon, they’ll reach Earth’s solar system and he’ll have access to the batcomputer. Not soon enough. Next to him, Superman is a steady support of a brick wall, but his shoulder feels warm and soft against Bruce’s, even through the suit. Underneath the cape and hidden from view, Clark’s thumb rubs circles into his side, lower back. He knows exactly what he’s doing. A Pavlovian effect has Bruce relaxing his shoulders, if only slightly. None of his teachers ever taught him how to deal with a superman when trying to meditate. His superman. His annoyingly super man.

His last thought is of Clark, and that it must be irritating to have a bat ear poking into his cheek. But then again, rarely anything physical ever annoys the Man of Steel. Then, finally, he dozes off, the roar of the jet diminished to a distant snoring.

---

Bruce is proud of the watchtower. His watchtower. It stands erect on the bright side of the moon, pointing towards earth. Always looking out. Within such an enormous structure however, some simple rules are needed. There is a long list next to the fridge in the break room, and one in the meeting room. No running unless there is an emergency. Masks on outside of one’s own room. Food is to stay in the cafeteria (he’s found everyone and Clark with various wrappers and chips bags in the monitor room, so he gave up on that – it’s crossed out). Training gear stays in the gym. The coffee machine has to be cleaned once every 2 days - the stuff isn’t that good, not what Bruce is used to, but it has helped him through several meetings and dull monitor duties in the past.

A couple days after returning from their outer space mission on the javelin, Bruce returns to the watchtower. There are several new members to have a meeting about. He has made up his mind on all of them already, the meeting is merely a formality.

Connor Hawke runs past – one of the new proposed members, codename Green Arrow after his father – and Supergirl flies over his head. “No running.” He stops them both with one move of his arm and a line on a batarang.

Kara turns towards him and slips out of his trap easily. “I wasn’t even running, B,” she says while she floats down. Connor has crossed his arms and looks out the window, Batman’s line still taut around his upper arms.

“There are rules. If you want to be in the Justice League, behave like it.” He reminds her of the proper use of code names too, for good measure, and unties Connor.

With a sigh, both young heroes are off, making their way towards the break room. Bruce follows them and finds Wally and Kyle already inside, but as soon as they see Batman turn the corner they scurry out through the door on the other side.

It’s the first clue that something is amiss. The newer heroes standing around the fridge and chuckling, the second. Bruce lays eyes on the offending appliance and feels his body tense. If smoke could come out of his ears, it would.

“Flash!”

---

The standard size piece of paper lies on one of the metal surfaces in the computer area of the cave. Bruce tries to ignore it while he works, but the primary colours of Superman’s suit in the image are a thorn in his peripheral vision. With a swift move and a smack, he turns it around, and gets back to his files. He has sent his notes for the meeting to the watchtower, reported that he’s too busy to attend.

He works on some of his own active cases, gathering data and looking at evidence. Most of it is paperwork, boring but necessary. He slowly makes his way through every file, meticulously and efficiently. Everything gets reported and written down in case a pattern reveals itself later. The puzzling can be done when he’s more focused. Meanwhile, the cases that are solved and closed get a little custom-made bat-stamp on the front of their manila folder before they get filed away. Alfred brings down coffee, the good kind. Time passes quickly and he’s still busy when Clark flies in.

“Hey,” he walks up to Bruce and bends down for a quick kiss. “I thought you’d be at the meeting today. Diana said you were busy.”

Bruce points to the piece of paper in explanation, Clark turns to grab it. “Wally happened. And I’m always busy.”

“I see. He seemed almost unnaturally giddy today. Oh hey, look.” Clark holds up the picture of Batman and Superman, asleep on the javelin. In it, Clark’s face is peaceful, his mouth open, despite one of the ears on the cowl that is indeed poking his cheek. “We look cute.”

“Batman doesn’t do cute, Clark.”

Clark sighs. But you do, his eyes seem to say. No, I don’t, Bruce replies with his. “Where’d you get this, anyway?”

“Wally put it up on the fridge in the watchtower cafeteria. You didn’t notice him taking it last week?”

“Clearly,” Clark points to the Clark in the picture. “I fell asleep.”

“And here I thought you always listened to your surroundings.”

“We were in space. Not exactly much I can hear out there.”

Bruce gets up from his chair. Having a Superman has once again proven useless. Only Clark can do something so silly and time-wasting as sleeping, on purpose. Naps are overrated, anyway. They’ve had this discussion many times, Bruce knows the outcome. *Always* be on high alert, he will say. Clark will push back, it’s not that simple, he will say. Everyone needs sleep, his eyes pleading, apologetically somehow. They do. But it has taken Bruce obtaining Clark’s powers in a freak magic accident and chasing after the sun and every criminal on the planet for 72 hours straight to realise that. Now he knows the desperation, the feeling that it will never end, the knowledge that in the end, not everyone can be saved, even if you try.

Everyone needs sleep, even Superman.

Clark watches him milling through these thoughts, it must be written on his face, and holds out his hand when Bruce’s features finally relax. He’ll just have a stern talking-to with Wally and Kyle next time he’s on the watchtower.

If only it were so simple. The next time he’s on the watchtower, the picture is back on the fridge. And in the main hallway. And in the transporter room, the trophy room, and the ground level bathroom. Bruce groans, suppresses the urge to face-palm. He takes the things down one by one, systematically going through the entire watchtower. Then, he has that talk with Wally. And with Kyle. Best to keep them separated. They snicker that it wasn’t them *this* time, and don’t seem scared of him at all.

He’s either gone too soft in his old (not old, mature) age, or he should have designed the watchtower with a lot more corners for menacing shadows.

Wally and Kyle are both telling the truth, Bruce finds out in the next couple of days when more pictures return while Kyle is off in space and Wally is busy on earth. This time, it’s not just the one of them sleeping on the Javelin. A bunch of pictures have been put up in the break room. There’s one of Clark, asleep on monitor duty with his feet on the console (Bruce makes a mental note to talk to him about that). There, right there, that’s the reason why there always have to be two leaguers watching the screens. J’onn looking desperately at a small pile of Oreo crumbles on the floor of the meeting room. Diana vigorously devouring a tub of chocolate ice cream. And Batman, pointing at the camera, the other hand on his hip.

He has no idea who took it, but it has to be one of the speedsters. All he knows is that this has to stop. No matter if one finds this kind of thing funny, there are rules, privacy issues, secret identities and all that.

The security footage that Bruce watches back in the cave that night reveal some of the newer, younger members of the league sneaking around the watchtower with a roll of tape. They don’t know where all the cameras are, clearly. They don’t know the rules, clearly. Wally and Kyle have to have set them up to do this, clearly.

Clark watches with him over his shoulder. He chuckled when Bruce showed him the evidence earlier, but now his face is serious. He mouths an Oh. “This is getting out of hand. I’ll organize a meeting tomorrow.”

---

The next day, in the biggest meeting hall on the watchtower, over 30 faces stare at them from across the large round table. Diana and J’onn are seated on their side, for good measure. They’re victims in this too. It’s intimidating to be called to the watchtower by Superman and Batman for a meeting on professional conduct, and even more intimidating to sit across four of the original members, especially for the new ones in the crowd. Good, Bruce thinks. He stands up, and so does Clark.

“Welcome, everyone,” Clark starts, the warm and commanding baritone all Superman. “We’re glad you could all make it on such short notice…” While Clark talks, Bruce regards the crowd of heroes standing nervously, or sitting on the few available chairs. Firestorm’s flame burns smaller than normal, the new Green Arrow has his bow clamped between both hands, and even Plastic Man seems to genuinely pay attention to Superman. Wally has his chin in his hands on the table, pretending to be interested, and Kyle only seems to pay attention to a scratch on the table’s surface. “…today is not an emergency, but it is important nonetheless…” Get to the point, Clark. “It seems that whilst we acquire more and more members for the JL, some of you think this is some sort of club and not an international organization to protect the earth,” he drones on. Arthur sighs, and for once, Bruce agrees with him.

“I will not tolerate this any longer,” Bruce cuts Superman off brusquely, in his most serious bat-voice. “Take all pictures down. And if I see another one…”

Wally huffs, interrupting him. “No fun allowed on this godforsaken rock.”

Before Bruce can retort, Clark puts a hand on his tense shoulder. “What Batman is trying to say, is we can’t do this. Even if it seems harmless. Because if we get careless about the little things, we get sloppy, and if we get sloppy, the wrong information might fall into the wrong hands.”

“You’re just as paranoid as he is,” Plastic man points at Batman. “It’s a couple of harmless images.”

“And what did I just say?”

“You’re saying no fun allowed,” Kyle supplies this time. Once again, Bruce takes tremendous effort to suppress a face-palm, and crosses his arms instead. He grunts. Really, they have 37 children here. Not just the 6 back home – a rookie number. 37, except maybe not Diana. Maybe. “Man, we bust our butts for you guys. I’m behind at work, barely get any sleep or free time and you’re getting on our case for something as dumb as this!” Kyle throws his arms up in anger. Behind him, Connor tries to shush him.

“This is work just as much as your civilian job. And more important on top of that. If you want to slack off, you can do that back home. Not here.”

“Grumpy much, bats? Someone missed their morning coffee today…” Wally mumbles.

They continue staring at each other, but it’s Superman who breaks first, uncrosses his arms and sighs. “You can have a couch in the break room… and a tv.” he looks at Bruce. At his expense, of course. “That’s it. No more images of JL members. Leave your personal lives at home.”

“Fine,” Wally sits up. “We’ll take them down.”

---

A couple days later, Bruce is back on the watchtower. No weird pictures greet him this time. Much cleaner. He steadily makes his way to the break room to grab a coffee before the current meeting, but only because he didn’t have time to wait for Alfred’s Italian brew anymore. Clark is with him, already more cheerful because of Bruce’s relatively better mood.

The cafeteria is still empty, the little kitchen still clean. Save for the fridge. There, prominently in the middle of the door, the original picture of Batman and Superman on the Javelin stares him squarely in the face. It’s held up by a pair of small Wonder Woman magnets this time. Clark says something behind him, but Bruce isn’t paying attention. As he gets closer, he can tell it’s different. The paper is thicker, a nicer quality. The image is not a print, but hand-drawn in a mix of coloured chalk and high-quality pencil. The lighting, especially, is magnificent. Kyle Rayner. A new addition is the caption in curly handwriting underneath the image:

Even the world’s finest heroes need to sleep

Now, Bruce face-palms. Hard. Clark mutters a fuck, but regains control quickly. “I’ve got to hand it to them; they have nerve.” Bruce ignores him as he opens the fridge to grab the milk for Clark’s coffee. “It’s a good quality to have.”

“Or a bad one.”

Clark shrugs. His face breaks out into a grin. “And, I have them on my side now.”

Oh, no. Bruce whips his head up from the coffee machine to look at Clark. “Batman doesn’t nap.”

Clark inclines his head, raises an eyebrow. But *you* do. It’s so goddamn frustrating when he’s right.

“Hn. You already have Alfred on your side, that’s enough. And I’ve been good about it.”

“According to your standards, sure. Don’t you think it’s time for one later today? After the meeting?”

“Not here,” Bruce whispers.

“Back home.”

Home. It’s a good thing the security cameras don’t record sound. “Okay,” he mumbles. “I’ve got some time before patrol.”

Clark’s grin turns victorious, and Bruce burns his tongue on the coffee while he tries to hide a smile himself. He’ll decide what to do about Kyle’s art project later. Right now, they have a meeting to attend to.

---

The next morning, Bruce wakes up to Clark kissing his jaw, his mouth. He tastes like Alfred’s coffee. Too early, as always. Not early enough, as always, because Clark is already getting up for work. He considers pulling him back into bed and just straight up explaining to Perry that Clark is late again because he’s fucking the owner, but then he remembers yesterday’s incident. He’ll have to do something about it, obviously, but he’s not looking forward to acknowledging the whole thing yet again, maybe even admitting that the younger members are right, if only a little bit. Stupid watchtower clubhouse. His foul mood must be showing on his face, because all he gets is a “Let it go, Bruce” before Clark disappears into the bathroom. He comes back out in record time, fastening his tie. “Just, let it go. Let them have a little bit of fun. They’re young.”

But not doing anything about it is not an option. Not for Batman, and not for Bruce. “If I don’t retort, they’ll keep going. This won’t die out.” He sits up in bed. At the foot end, Clark is putting on his shoes.

“It will. You can’t fight fire with fire, sweetheart.” He walks over to Bruce and kisses his cheek. That’s it.

“That’s it. I’m going to fight fire with fire.” Get down to their level. He has kids, knows what teenagers and twenty-something year olds think like.

“No,” Clark groans. It turns into a sigh. “I’m going to be late.”

Bruce gets up. “Then go. Have a good day at work, honey.”

Clark clenches his jaw, and swings his messenger bag over his shoulder, giving up. “I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says, already halfway out the window.

Bruce closes it behind him, and then quickly makes his way down to the cave. He lets Alfred know he’ll have breakfast on the watchtower, dons the batsuit, makes a quick stop at his desk in the cave, and beams up to the watchtower. 9 am. He’s still on time.

---

At lunch time, the cafeteria is buzzing with excitement, more and more heroes gathering around the fridge as they point and whisper Really? And Do you even think it was him? And Wally, this must be another prank of yours. Bruce hears shushing and He’s right there while he drinks his coffee on the other side of the room. Finally, Clark walks in and takes a second to behold the spectacle, his brow furrowed, listening in. He clearly gives up on going to the fridge to get food, and instead makes a beeline to where Batman is sitting at one of the tables. “What’s going on? Did you remove it?” he asks as he sits down across from Bruce.

“I did not.”

Wally sticks his head out of the crowd and looks at the two of them. “Hey Bats! Does this mean we can keep it?”

Calmly, Bruce sips his coffee, pointedly ignoring the younglings and the little victory he supplied for them. But of course, and without skipping a beat, Clark notices his smug mood. He leans closer across the metal table. “What, did you put your bat-stamp of approval on it?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Clark looks back over at the fridge with his spectacular vision to see what Bruce has done earlier, before anyone else was in the vicinity; his bat-symbol stamped onto the lower right corner of the caption. Later, he’ll add a rule to his original list next to the fridge. Only approved art and trophies allowed on the watchtower.

“I also hacked their phones and made sure there are no digital copies anymore,” he explains. “That should teach them to think twice next time.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Bruce shrugs. After all, he’s heard it all before. Only this time, Clark is unable to suppress a smile, he puts a hand over his, and adds “I love you.” Even that is nothing new, he knows it already, but it hasn’t happened on the watchtower yet. He allows a smile to form on his face while Clark holds his gloved hand. The rest of the league is too busy with the commotion around the fridge, anyway.

A few days later, he finds a copy of the drawing in the cave, this one with a small Superman stamp in the lower-right corner. It may just be exactly what he needs to see after a long night of patrol. Alfred seems happy about it too, and not just about the two people in it. He now simply points to the text with a stern face instead of obnoxiously and repeatedly clearing his throat whenever Bruce comes back from patrol battered and bruised or refuses to go up to the house and his bed.

There is another one in the fortress, although Clark doesn’t spend much time there. Bruce figures he can use the reminder whenever he does go there, so far away from humanity, to work on a case. And in Blüdhaven, Dick has one on his bedside table. The last time he visited Titans tower he noticed one in the hallway. Both of those not Bruce’s doing. He lets it slide, right of his cape and cowl and cool exterior. He just hopes everyone can keep it within their inner circles and that Batman and Superman won’t get turned into one of those ‘memes’.

#superbat #write write #humor #jla

50 notes · View notes

kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

Always Close By

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.1k hehe kinda long

Summary: In which even the mightiest of superheroes aren’t immune to sickness, and when Steve falls ill, you end up babysitting him.

Warnings: none, just steve being a big baby ahaha

Sleep had never really come easily to you. Your insomnia had been a consistent issue since before you first joined the Avengers, so days like these in which you mindlessly wandered around the compound downing two or three cups of coffee and eating granola bars weren't uncommon.

You hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night yet for some reason, weren't feeling drowsy like you usually did when you stayed up. This time Sam and Bucky were also awake with you, and the three of you switched between playing Mario Kart and Animal Crossing to kill time.

One by one the rest of the team began to wake up and you and Wanda decided to start preparing breakfast. After everyone had finished eating you'd noticed Steve still hadn't come out, and decided to go check up on him.

"Steve?" you knocked carefully on his bedroom door as to not disturb him. "It's time for breakfast."

You didn't get a proper reply but heard a light groan in response, deciding to go inside after several more attempts.

He was buried under his covers, forehead glistening with a cold sweat and his dirty-blonde hair disheveled. When he looked up to meet your gaze you noticed his cheeks were flushed a bright red from heat, and were immediately concerned at the sight.

"Hey," you said softly, carefully approaching him. "You okay?"

Steve just shivered and shook his head.

"What happened?"

"Don't know."

You brought a palm up to his forehead and were alarmed by how hot it felt, hissing at his feverishness as you pulled your hand back. "You're burning up."

"I'll be fine, don't worry," he chuckled, but his laugh turned into a coughing fit. "I'm, just, fine."

"You're coming down with a fever," you stated. "I thought you couldn't get sick."

"Apparently, I can," he coughed, "But it's just a simple flu. I'll be back to normal before you know it. We have our weekly sparring showdown tonight, right? I can't miss out on that."

Despite the calm tone in his voice, you still weren't convinced. The thermometer read a whopping 105.6 degrees and from what you knew, that meant you had to get medical help right away.

"No, you're not. Your body temperature is abnormally high. You're staying in bed," you ordered, then sighed. It was hard not to go soft at those puppy dog eyes, but you knew denying him from being able to do any strenuous physical activity was for the best.

"Can you please speak more quietly," Steve whispered, "I have a migraine."

"I'm sorry," you were quick to lower your voice, "hey...how did this even happen to you? Did you eat anything weird?"

"Food poisoning?"

"No, that can't be. We all ate takeout together for dinner last...shit, shawarma." Your eyes widened in realization. "Dammit, it is."

"Language," he said weakly.

"You're staying in bed for today, alright?" you gave him a stern look.

"I'm not completely disabled, I can stand. Just let me go get some breakfast and afterwards I'll come right back to bed."

"Fine."

You gripped his forearm to help him stand up and his arm immediately went around your waist. You weren't sure whether the heat radiating off him was from his fever or from the way he generally made you feel. Brushing the thought off, you helped him to the kitchen.

"Damn, Cap. What happened?" Sam raised a brow at his friend's appearance.

"I think Tony poisoned him," you shot the billionaire a death glare. "I knew something was up with that shawarma place."

"Then how come none of us are sick?" Tony questioned. "We all had the same thing."

"No, we didn't. Steve and I were the only ones who specifically ordered the chicken shawarma. You guys took kebabs."

"Then why aren't you sick?"

"I don't know."

Steve pulled up a chair to the kitchen island, immediately laying his head on the cool marble counter and closing his eyes.

"Hey, Cap, you think you can try and stomach this? You need to eat or your condition will get worse," Pepper urged as she pushed a plate of scrambled eggs and French toast towards the super-soldier. He pulled himself back up into a sitting position and took a bite out of his toast, but quickly set it down after a wave of nausea washed over his body and he bit back a gag.

He tried to stand up and stumbled, but you and Bruce were quick to catch him by his shoulders.

"Cap? Are you okay?" the scientist asked gently. "Steve."

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and grasping your waist tightly as he grew lightheaded, the world around him beginning to spin rapidly.

You lowered his head onto your lap as Wanda gave you a cold towel, and you pressed it to his sweaty forehead as you ran your other hand through his hair.

"We should get him back to his room, then I'll go get the treatments," Bruce explained as you tried to pull him back up, which was a lot harder than it seemed. "Then we'll figure it out from there."

"Jeez, how heavy are you," you said as you tried helping him to his feet. "I swear you're twice my weight..."

"172," he replied plainly.

"Feels a lot heavier than that. Thought you were at least 200 with all that broad muscle," you grunted as Bucky came forward to help you, and Steve slung his arms around both your shoulders.

Once you led him to his room, Steve lazily crawled back into bed and you pulled the covers over him. It didn't take long before he fell asleep, breathing steadier than before though it still sounded somewhat plugged.

“You sure you’re okay staying here with him?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “If you’re tired too, I can step in if you want.”

“It’s fine, I can handle it. But thanks,” you yawned, waving him off. “Now go and...kick Sam’s ass in Mario Kart so I can face off against you later.”

“You got it,” he ruffled your hair before leaving the room.

You pulled out your phone to check the time, and sighed. 9:17.

I know I had a workout video scheduled to be posted, guys, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to have it up today, you typed out a quick message to your Twitter. Steve’s sick and I’m having to take care of him. Hope you all understand <3

Almost immediately, the replies came flooding in.

Awww we love a supportive teammate/gf

Couple goals uwu

Get better soon, Cap!

You smiled to yourself, setting your phone on Steve’s nightstand and running your hand through his hair again. He did look rather peaceful while asleep - and not to mention, flawless, with a face looking like it was sculpted by the Greek gods themselves. Times in which you saw him in a state like this were extremely rare, so you treasured every little moment you got. Between co-commanding missions with you, filing reports, and countless meetings with SHIELD officials (you let him doodle on your hand as he half-listened to the lectures), he was restless.

You didn’t know when or how you fell asleep, but when you woke up streams of bright light were filtering in through the windows, the sun high in the sky. You groaned and pushed yourself out of bed, gently laying Steve’s head against his pillow before standing up and shuffling down the hall to the kitchen.

“What time is it?” you rubbed your eyes with your sweater’s sleeve. “How long was I out for?”

“1:45. You want lunch? You hardly ate in the morning,” Rhodey pushed a plate towards you. “You’ve been asleep for roughly four hours, Y/N.”

You pulled your phone out again - the weather outside was apparently a breezy 68 degrees. The fact that it wasn’t even hot outside, but Steve was sweating profusely, made you concerned.

You let out a satisfied sigh as you bit into the sandwich (courtesy of Vision’s cooking), practically inhaling it in just a couple of bites. “Did any of you guys come down with symptoms...?”

“No, but you’ve been exposed so I’d advise that you take this,” Bruce handed you a small, blue pill. “It should keep you from catching Steve’s bug.”

You nodded and swallowed the pill down without even bothering to drink anything. “Alright.”

Just five minutes passed before your phone buzzed on the table. You were quick to answer, holding it up to your ear.

“Y/NNNN.”

“Steve? What do you need? Are you okay? When did you wake up?”

“A few minutes ago...I threw up and then went back to bed, but I couldn’t fall back asleep-”

“Oh, god. Hold on a second, I’ll be right there,” you promptly ended the call and got out of your seat, pushing the chair in before rushing down the hall to his room.

The super-soldier was sitting up in bed when you arrived, sweat streaming down his forehead as he leaned against the headboard, cheeks flushed a bright red. “Y/N-”

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, I’m here, what do you need? Water? Ice?”

“I feel horrible.”

You brought your hand up to his forehead again, and immediately jerked it away. “You’re still running a really high f...dammit, have you taken any medicine?”

“No...”

“Stay right here, I’ll go get some-”

“Don’t leave me,” he begged hoarsely as he reached out to grab your wrist. You felt a twinge in your chest at that damn pleading look in his eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

You let out a sigh of defeat. “...I’ll have Bucky bring the medicine then, okay?”

“Mhmmm.”

It turned out, taking care of a sick super-soldier was a lot more difficult than it seemed. You initially thought that with the serum in his veins, that Steve couldn’t get sick - but for some reason it only amplified his symptoms. Damn that shawarma.

After alerting FRIDAY, Bucky appeared holding a glass of ice water in his metal hand and a small bottle of some medication in the other.

“How ya feelin’, punk?”

“Hey, jerk...” Steve said weakly, “Why is there two of you standing in front of me?”

“He’s getting worse, Y/N...” he looked genuinely worried, his gaze flickering between you and Steve. “...I gotta go now so I won’t get sick...but Y/N will take care of you. Got it?”

“Mhmm.”

As soon as Bucky left you popped open the bottle. “Hey. Drink this.”

“It smells disgusting,” Steve scrunched his nose up in distaste.

“You need to or you’ll only get worse. Now come on,” you urged. He turned his head away to avoid drinking the strong-smelling liquid. “Stop acting like such a big baby. For Odin’s sake, just drink it.”

“No.”

“Do you want to keep feeling like this?”

“No.”

“Then drink the medicine! It’s not that hard.”

“No.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you said sternly. “Drink. It. I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

Your sudden firm tone of voice took him by surprise. “Fiiiine.”

He took the bottle from your hands and tilted his head back, gulping it down within seconds. As soon as he finished he made a face.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was.”

You pulled your chair closer to his bedside, propping your hand on your chin as you observed him. “Still feeling nauseous?”

“Mhmmm.”

“If you throw up, you’re gonna have to take this all over again. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“No..I don’t wike it.”

You chuckled lightly. “I know. It’s for your own good, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s wait for a bit, and if you’re feeling well enough, I can make some onion soup for you, okay? How does that sound?”

“Amazing. I love your soup. Why don’t you cook more often?”

“Just never really considered it,” you shrugged.

Steve rubbed his eyes, subconsciously reaching over to grab your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. You felt your breath hitch in your throat. He then lifted your hand up to his face and pressed your palm to his flushed cheek, leaning into your touch.

You swallowed hard as you allowed yourself to stare again at his messy-haired, exhausted figure. Your chest ached. The things you were willing to do for him... god, you loved him so much...

“...Why are you staring?” he mumbled, glancing over to meet your worried eyes. “What’s that look on your face? Y/N...are you okay?”

You inhaled sharply. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

His brows furrowed together and he gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe what you said at all. “Sure you are.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“You’re acting like these are my final moments and that I’m going to die soon. Stop worrying so much.”

“This is coming from the person who waited eight hours straight for me to undergo surgery after that Belarus case?”

“Uh huh.”

Several moments passed in silence before he spoke up again. “Thanks for taking care of me...I’m sorry for being a big baby. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him, “you’re not a burden at all.”

You ended up watching The Empire Strikes Back that afternoon, his head in your lap and you running your fingers through his soft hair. At one point in the movie he began to drift off, and you carefully slid yourself out of bed.

He stirred awake again, reaching for you. “Y/NNNN.”

“I’m gonna go make the soup for you. Rest up and if you’re feeling well enough, then shower and come out to the kitchen, okay?”

“Alright.”

“He doin’ better?” Rhodey raised an eyebrow at you.

“Fever’s gone down a bit but the nausea’s still there,” you exhaled as you began grabbing the necessary ingredients, “hey, uh, Pietro, can you go down to the cellar and grab some white wine?”

The speedster nodded and in a flash, he had the bottle in his hands. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

“Where’s Cap right now?” Sam questioned.

You heard the water running and replied, “Taking a shower. He’s been sweating like the Amazon.”

With Pietro’s help and your additional powers, you finished up the soup that was supposed to take an hour in just twenty-five minutes. By the time you were setting the bowl along with some bread onto a plate, Steve was hobbling into the kitchen, hair wet and messy with a towel hung around his neck. The tight T-shirt he changed into showed off his toned figure, and you almost dropped your glass of water at the sight.

His eyes immediately lit up upon seeing the food, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I love you. You’re the best.”

“I know.” You winked and took a seat next to him. The team smirked at the flirty exchange.

Surprisingly enough, he had the entire thing finished under five minutes so that you had to give him a second serving, which he basically inhaled in two giant gulps.

“You were hungry, huh.”

“After throwing up yesterday’s dinner, yeah.”

You shot Tony a pointed glare. “Thanks a lot, Stark.”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, and held his phone up. “Look, I called them earlier while you were asleep and they gave us a full refund.”

“Fine. Apology accepted.”

Steve’s migraines started acting up again and you were forced to help him back into bed (with Bucky’s assistance, of course). After spending all day hovering over him, you fell asleep as well, a mere thirty seconds after he did.

...

When you came to the next morning, you felt an arm tighten around your waist and a sleepy groan coming from right next to you. You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were curled up against him with a hand resting against his chest, your legs intertwined together as he held you tightly to him. A breath of relief escaped your lips when his face no longer looked alarmingly pale and his cheeks weren’t bright red.

Steve woke up a few seconds later, giving you a sleepy smile as his grip around you tightened.

"Mornin', doll," he said in a husky voice that made you almost swoon. But then he too, realized what was going on and quickly snapped out of it. "What- oh my God, I’m sorry-”

“Are y’all fully dressed in there? Wanda made her famous French toast feast for breakfast so if you don’t get yo asses out here I’m eating your food!” Sam yelled as he pounded on the door.

"Just a minute!” you shouted back in reply as you and Steve sprung apart, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a pair of clothes before heading to the bathroom to change.

“What the hell, Y/N, you actually slept for sixteen consecutive hours? I’ve never seen you do that before?”

“Huh? What time is it?”

“8:07. And why are you wearing Steve’s shirt?”

“What do you mean? I’m not...” you trailed off on your sentence and looked down to see that you were in fact, wearing one of Steve’s shirts. “...Oh.”

“Did you two...”

“No!”

“Cute,” you heard someone chuckle lowly from behind you and turned around to see a smirking Steve with his arms crossed over his chest.

“So I see now that you’re okay, you’re acting all cocky again, hm?” you raised an eyebrow at the super-soldier. “Guess those meds finally wore off.”

He just chuckled in response and pulled him towards you, engulfing you in a tight, hug.

“Let me go!” you squealed, squirming against his tight grip as the team watched in amusement. “I need to eat breakfast! Let me go!”

“Only if you say the words, sweetheart.”

“Let me go right this instant! I’m serious!” you began laughing uncontrollably. “Steve! Let me go!”

“Not until you say it.”

“Fine! I love you and you’re my favorite Avenger!” He released you from his arms and you brushed your shirt off. “There, happy?”

Steve laughed again, that same damn smirk on his face. “I didn’t know you could get flustered, Y/N.”

“I’m not flustered,” you muttered.

“Your face is like a tomato!” Peter exclaimed. “You wouldn’t look like that if you weren’t. Mr. Stark, looks like I owe you twenty.”

“Peter, did you make a bet with Tony again?” You frowned.

“Yep! We bet when we’d finally figure out you liked Cap and he bet within the next week, while I said three weeks.”

“Oh my god.”

212 notes · View notes

erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

The Game

MASTERLIST

I wrote this with season 13-15 Spencer in mind. The more confident Spencer that would shoot his shot (no pun intended) because this one gets a little crazy. But I’ve always imagined Spencer could be a little wild in bed at times, even be up for a game or two. ;)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: Mature (smut)

Word Count: 4,888

Objective: Whoever can withstand any form of teasing the opposite partner dishes out, the longest, wins.

Rule 1: No sexual activities allowed i.e. no sex, foreplay or kissing on the lips.

Rule 2: Normal touches are allowed, no matter the body part.

Rule 3: You may tantalize in whatever forms you please as long as it doesn’t break rule number one.

Rule 4: The game is over whenever one party gives in to his/her desires.

Rule 5: Winner is treated to whatever they please (sexual or non sexual).

Let the game begin.

•

You and Spencer had this little game you liked to play occasionally. Simply nicknamed, The Game, it had become a part of your relationship. It wasn’t often that you played, but when you did it was always played with high intensity. Sometimes the game could get nasty.

Currently, you were in the middle of it.

Working at the FBI had not only tuned your attention to details, but it also made for a monotonous work schedule with little or no free time. Somehow with the invention of this game it seemed to spice things up both at work and in your relationship respectively.

It’d began the previous morning.

After a rough month of cases, there finally seemed to be a lull long enough for the entire unit to catch their breath. Staying so busy obviously led to little to no time for intimacy, so it had been a few weeks. This would make the game much more exciting. Spencer was competitive, always wanting to win and you had to hand it to him, he had won more times than he’d lost.

It was on the flight home when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Spencer.

Ready to lose again?

You looked across the jet towards your seated boyfriend. He shot you a wink, knowing his request was automatically met with a yes.

That all you got pretty boy? I’m shaking.

You didn’t watch as he answered, instead you watched the three dots appear that indicated he was typing.

His answer was only three words.

You will be.

A tingle of desire shot through your body.

Bring it.

•

Today had started off slow enough. You had some work to catch up on so you’d arrived at work early. It was already a tough morning as Spencer had purposely slept shirtless the night before. It was early yet, but you somehow knew this time around things would be even more intense.

His personal best was 6 and a half days. That was as long as he’d lasted before you jumped his bones. This time you were determined to win.

Your glance at the clock revealed that it was 7 in the morning. You only had an hour and a half until the currently deserted bullpen would be filled with bustling activity. You picked up your mug and made your way to the coffee machine. That was something you and your boyfriend definitely had in common, you both ran on coffee.

You were just about to pour the leftover day old coffee down the sink drain when the sound of the doors opening startled you. You weren’t expecting Emily in until at least 7:45.

You yelped, jumping at the sudden noise, the coffee spilling all over your blouse. You heard the sound of chuckling.

“Great start to your morning, huh babe?” Spencer walked over, handing you some paper towels.

“What are you doing here so early?” you asked, blotting the stain.

He shrugged, “Just felt like being extra productive today.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was more likely he thought it would be a good opportunity to mess with you.

“Uh huh,” you said disbelievingly, “Thanks for making me ruin my shirt.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, walking away from you and towards his desk.

“Damnit,” you mumbled, realizing you wouldn’t be able to blot this stain away.

If you were lucky, you might have a spare shirt in your go bag. You paused, an idea forming in your mind. Since you were sure Spencer had an agenda of his own, you decided to pay back the favor.

“Spence?” you called across the room, “Is my go bag still by your desk?”

Your fingers unbutton your ruined shirt, trying hard to keep the smirk off your face. It was an ingenious idea, really.

“Yeah, why?” His back was still turned to you, his attention on the files he was flipping through.

“Can you grab my extra shirt please? I’ll just wear that today instead.”

You walked to his desk, your shirt dangling out of one hand, your upper torso clad in only your bra. The moment he turned to hand you the garment, his jaw about hit the floor.

“Figured it’d be faster to just change here. You don’t mind, do you?” you smile sweetly.

“That isn’t going to work,” he muttered, forcing his eyes back to the file after you took the shirt from him.

You shrugged, purposely leaning across the desk when you kissed his cheek to thank him, so he could get an eye full of your cleavage. Lucky for you this bra was just a hair too snug and you had to admit, your boobs looked amazing today.

“Get to work big boy, it’s gonna be a looong day” you called, pulling the shirt on as you walked away.

•

“Kid, I see the wheels turning. Just spit it out already,” Rossi said.

The team was currently in the middle of working a case, everyone working their hardest to catch the unsub. Everyone was spread around the briefing room, you at the round table with JJ and Penelope. Your boyfriend stood in front of the boards that held all the case information, one hand resting on his chin as he studied the information laid out in front of him.

You never knew how, but there was a place Spencer went when he thought. He would space out and focus on nothing but the problem at hand. It was always extremely attractive to you.

“Okay, I think I’ve figured out his pattern. He started in the western part of Virginia right? Then headed to—”

You’re not gonna lie, you ended up missing over half of what he said. You loved when he showed off his knowledge and that brain of his, even just in his job. Your eyes wandered as he talked, eyes lingering on his hands. They moved with his words and you couldn’t help but think of other places those hands had been rather than just used at a crime scene or flipping through case files.

“Right, Y/N?”

You were completely zoned out and missed the fact you were being spoken to.

“Y/N?”

You snap out of it, realizing the entire team was staring at you awaiting the answer to JJ’s question.

“Oh uh- sorry. What was that?”

“I asked if you received the coroner’s report from the latest victim.”

“Right, yes.” You pull out a paper from a file and hand it over to her.

“I know your man is dreamy and all Y/N, but you gotta stop zoning out,” Penelope smirked to herself.

“Hush,” you chuckled quietly, turning back to the rest of the team.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one to notice your staring. Spencer’s smirk made your stomach flip. You weren’t going to let him win again.

•

An unspoken rule of the game was that when it was time to focus strictly on the case, you obviously did. The game would be put on hold until the case was finished. It was one of those days where you were rushing against the clock to catch the killer.

The team was split up, everyone doing different tasks. You, Spencer and Matt were currently sat around a table trying to make connections with an old case, to the one you were currently working on. It seemed to be the same M.O.

“In 1989 Lila Long was found dead on the doorstep of her house,” Matt said, laying out the photo once again, “Stabbed 14 times.”

You nodded, chewing on your lip while you thought. It was presumed that she managed to escape the unsub who had grabbed her just blocks from her home. She had managed to make it to her front door where she died. It was unclear whether the unsub had caught up to her and stabbed her again or if she had succumbed to her injuries.

“I don’t think he found her again, as there isn’t any blood splatter here,” Spencer motioned to the picture, gesturing at the door, “We know there would be a specific pattern, but it was never recorded for sure because of the amount of blood found there.”

“Fast forward 30 odd years and another woman shows up dead on her doorstep in the same neighborhood,” you say, setting the most recent crime scene picture next to the older one.

“Rosalie Brewer, 51, blonde hair, blue eyes,” Matt reads off the file, “Exact same type of injuries, a dozen or so stabbings.”

“Are we sure it’s not just a copycat? The story does seem to be the local legend. Maybe someone decided to recreate the murder?” you ask, tapping your pen.

“I don’t think so.” Spencer rubs his jaw; you can tell his mind is whirring.

Matt and Spencer throw around some theories, your eyes focusing on Spencer’s fingers twirling his pencil as he thought.

Maybe because it’d been a longer dry spell of no intimacy than normal for you, but your thoughts automatically turned sexual. Memories of how those long, slender fingers of his had traced your bare skin flashes through your mind. How they’ve dug into your hips and slid down your thighs before parting them and—

You snap yourself back to reality quickly. Now is definitely not the time to be thinking of such things but damnit did it set your stomach churning in desire. Thankfully, a distraction came in the nick of time.

“Guys, we have a suspect!” Luke rushed into the room, Emily on his heels, “I think he just might be our unsub.”

“Garcia’s on the phone with intel,” Emily set her phone on the table for all of us to hear.

“So, turns out, Lila Long has a son. Yes my dears, you heard me right. Apparently she gave birth secretly 18 years prior to her death while out of the country. She gave said baby up for adoption and never looked back. Fast forward 18 years later little Adam, all grown up, goes looking for mommy dearest and let me tell you it wasn’t for a nice and cozy reunion. According to his adoptive mother he was always a difficult child with a very bad temper. It was so alarming to his adoptive parents that they made him see a therapist. The therapist notes that he showed bipolar symptoms, had a definite anger problem and at times seemed unhinged and out of touch with reality. It wasn’t until after his 18th birthday that he found out the true story about his birth mother; that she’d basically left the country to have him, secretly give him up for adoption and come back to the States like it never happened.”

“Let me guess,” you said, “That didn’t bode well with him?”

“Right you are. Adoptive parents said he made passing remarks about “hunting down the bitch”. They knew he was angry about how he came to be adopted but they never suspected he’d actually find her and kill her.”

“But he did,” Emily said.

“But how does that relate to our current case, Garcia?” Spencer asked.

“Get this: Rosalie Brewer was Lila Kong’s best friend and helped arrange for her to have her child in secret and even found the adoptive family. She just moved back to the neighborhood a few months ago. There was a witness report in the police files that she’d been seen at a local coffee shop talking to a man that no one seemed to recognize.”

Garcia rattled off the description of the man and sent over a picture of Adam. It was a dead ringer. Everything was a go from there.

•

Hours later, the case had come to a close. Adam, who had turned out to be the correct unsub had had so much resentment toward his birth mother and her best friend—accompanied with his unstable mental health—decided to hunt them down and kill them in cold blood. The reason for the 30 year difference between murders was the fact he hadn’t discovered Rosalie’s existence and role in the secret adoption until he was much older. In his mind, the job wasn’t complete until she, too, was dead.

You were exhausted; physically and mentally. He gave up pretty quickly and it could’ve been a worse take down, but the prior days of working hard had taken a toll. Currently, you were relaxing in one of the chairs on the jet, a blanket pulled over you. You thought you were the only one awake, when you heard your phone buzz in your lap, underneath the blanket.

You retrieved it and open a text message from Spencer.

Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my hands today.

Another text popped up.

Don’t forget what I can do with them, sweetheart.

Like you could.

You text back, ignoring his provocative texts.

Come over here and keep me company. I’m lonely and cold.

A buzz came slower this time.

Giving in already? Thought you’d last longer than this.

You typed your answer at lightning speed.

In your dreams, Dr. Reid.

You hear a soft chuckle as he walks over to join you in the seat next to you.

“Why are you even still awake?” you asked.

“Just wide awake. You?”

“Same.”

It’s quiet for a bit and you’re sure he’s asleep when you hear him shift positions next to you, alerting you that he’s still just as awake as you are.

A wicked smile slowly spreads across your face as you get an idea. You’re grateful for the dark so he can’t see your expression clearly or predict what’s coming.

“Spence?” Your hand rests on his knee gently, innocently as if it’s just a typical lingering affection.

“Mhm?”

He looks over at you and you can barely see the outline of his face in the darkness.

“Remember the mile high club?” you asked nonchalantly, as if you were simply chatting about the weather.

“The mile high club?” he repeats, clearly confused.

“You know,” you bite your lip, even though you’re not sure he can see it and lower your voice just in case anyone else happened to be awake.

“That time on the way home from a case? When you were having a little problem?”

Your hand slides barely an inch upward and you hear his sharp intake of breath, whether from your touch or the memory you’re unsure.

It had been before the game had been invented. Spencer was extra worked up that day on the way home from a case, so you decided to sneak into the jet bathroom with him to give him some help.

“When I gave you a blow job right there in the jet bathroom?” Your voice is low, your lips by his ear.

“I-I remember,” he croaked.

“That was extremely hot. Trying to make sure you stayed quiet so no one heard us.”

Your hand slides up his thigh and you smirk satisfactorily when you hear his breath hitch.

“But I could tell how hard it was for you. All you wanted to do was moan my name out loud and grab my head to push me farther down on you.”

He’s silent, his breathing becoming heavier. You’re turning him on and it feels good to be winning for once. You’re not one to dirty talk much, but for this situation, you were pulling out the big guns.

“Admit it. Part of you wanted the entire jet to know just how good it felt with my pretty little lips wrapped around your cock, driving you absolutely insane.”

A low groan escaped his lips and you find yourself having to muster up all the strength you have not to kiss them right then. His hand grabs your wrist, stopping your hand from moving any further.

“Give up now and you can have your way with me when we get home,” you grin triumphantly.

“Never.”

He places your hand back in your lap, before moving to get up.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a matter to sort out,” he grumbles, making his way back to the bathroom.

You can’t help it, you laugh as he half limps toward the back of the jet.

You didn’t see him for quite awhile after that.

•

“Gotta admit Spencer, I’m impressed you’ve held on for this long.”

It’d been only a week. Usually the games were over pretty quickly as one—usually yourself—gave in after only a few days. But you were so determined to crack him.

“That’s just because you have no idea what I have up my sleeve. Points for you for getting creative lately though.”

You snickered. His most recent jet bathroom escapade had involved him and his hand only.

“I’m still waiting to see what you got.”

He was picking up files to be delivered to Emily’s office when he turned and nodded to your phone.

“I’d check your phone if I were you.”

Your brows furrowed, confused as you reached for your mobile device. You press the home button, lighting up the screen to reveal a slew of messages from Spencer, which seems to include several pictures.

Opening them, you see that it’s a variety of selfies only showing his face from the nose down, his lips the center of attention in every one. The last message was actual text.

I seem to recall your little fascination with my lips. Thought you might enjoy. You especially like it when they’re in other areas too.

You could kill him. It was one of your weaknesses, that’s for sure. You look up and see he’s halfway to Emily’s office now.

“Not gonna work!” you hollered towards him and he sends back a huge grin as if he knew you’re full of shit.

Which you are because now you’re beginning to weaken. But you’re still far from giving up.

You get him back at lunch.

You’re eating at your desk with your legs propped up, clearly giving Spencer a good view of them. He’s purposely ignoring you though, doing paperwork, much to your amusement.

You finish your sandwich and reach for the banana you’d packed earlier that morning. You’d been wanting to try this one ever since the game began for the first time. He just happens to glance up as you finish peeling your banana and you shoot him a wink and give a sly, suggestive lick to the side of the banana.

His tongue flicks over his lips as his eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, the determination still strong in them. The desire is there alright, the will to give up, is not.

•

Fuck you, Spencer. No actually, fuck me.

The thought floats across your mind. It’s another day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit but damnit if Spencer doesn’t look extra good today.

He always looks good in his work suits and ties, but this one is beyond belief. Or it may just be the fact that you’re wound up and in need of release, but you’re pretty much drooling from afar.

His pants were probably the best part cause his ass looked amazing in them. You’re pretty sure if any of your other teammates were to notice you staring at your boyfriend across the room they’d see you practically in a puddle of your own drool.

“You’re not playing that game again are you?”

You jump at the sound of JJ’s voice nearly sending your pile of files, documents and paperwork flying off your desktop. You turn around in your chair to see her standing at the edge of your desk, an arched brow and amused expression on her face.

JJ was the only one of the team you’d actually relinquished details to about your teasing escapades. Being the one female you were closest to on the team, sometimes sex life talk came up and it slipped out once. She found it creative and intriguing, saying it was never a bad thing to spice things up. But now, apparently you’d been a bit too obvious.

“How’d you know? Is it that obvious?”

“Not exactly. But it was my first guess when I saw you ogling Spence like a dog after a steak.”

You chuckle snort, the simile quite an accurate description of yourself.

“Yes, but the stakes are high this time. It’s been over a month since the last time we..you know had time for anything.”

“By all means, continue on. Win this one for us ladies,” she joked, heading for the stairs.

I plan on it.

•

Okay, so, that plan is not going so well after all.

It’s a slower day than normal and it’s barely past lunchtime. Spencer isn’t even actively doing anything other than existing and you feel like jumping out of your skin. How the hell he’s keeping his cool is beyond your comprehension.

You glance at your phone when you notice it light up in the corner of your eyes.

Hey, Y/N.

Are you a tardis?

Your brow raises and you reply.

A what?

A time machine. Just stick with me here.

Another text arrives while you’re still reading his initial reply.

Because I’ve heard being inside you will take me to magical places.

You stifle a giggle.

That’s a pick up line made for you, Spencer.

Ooh baby, you make my floppy disk turn into a hard drive.

You laugh out loud causing a few agents to glance in your direction and you quickly hush.

Give me the chance and I’d be happy to turn that floppy disk into a hard drive.

The gray dots linger on your screen from some time before his answer comes.

Well, shit.

You can feel Spencer’s eyes on you all afternoon and you’re entirely grateful that you decided to wear the nicest, form fitting skirt you own along with a button down that shows just the perfect amount of cleavage to still be considered professional.

You cross the room to make copies and you feel his eyes follow you making you shiver. It’s been 12 days since the game started, a personal record for the both of you. The sexual tension between you and Spencer is so high you’re sure it’s gonna boil over at the most inopportune time.

Instead of focusing on reports you need to file, your daydreams have become more prominent. All you want is him and you want him bad. You’re on the verge of begging just to be able to feel the amount of bliss he puts you in.

You almost groan out loud when you hear Emily ask him if he minds staying a little later to finish up the final reports. You’re not really up to being home alone so you decide to stay with him until he’s finished.

The number of people in the bullpen starts to dwindle until it’s just you and Spencer left. You’re swiveling in your chair, watching him, his face a mask of determination, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

Oh, how much you want those lips on yours, on your skin, those hands roaming your body, squeezing the right places. To have his body pressed close against yours, so close that you can feel his erratic breathing and spiked heart rate against your own chest. You wanted him to make you moan, make you scream even, the building was practically empty at this hour anyway.

You weren’t sure when you got up, but you were halfway toward him when you croaked his name weakly.

Whether it was because of your tone of voice or he just could sense it, he looked up, jaw going slack when he saw your shirt half unbuttoned, your fingers fumbling on the bottom half.

“You win alright?”

In a quick as lighting movement, he’d stood, picked you up and deposited you on his desk, his lips firmly attached to yours.

“Let’s call it a truce, okay?” he murmured against your lips before resuming kissing you.

The kisses were hot and wild, all the pent up sexual frustration being released finally. His teeth scraped over your bottom lip, tugging on it gently before twirling his tongue simultaneously with your own. Your shirt was all the way unbuttoned and your bra pulled down before you comprehended Spencer performing the actions.

He moaned into the kiss, his hands cupping your breasts. You automatically arched into his touch, lavishing in it after going so long without it. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples eliciting a ragged moan from you. Your inhibitions were out the window at this point and you could care less what you sounded like, you just wanted more of him.

“If I knew you’d be this reactive to me, I would torture you more often,” he smirked, leaning down to place his lips around one nipple, sucking gently.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, a hand tangled into his hair.

It was like you were super sensitive to his touch because every little thing he did set your nerve endings on fire. You were throbbing with need and he was enjoying this way too much.

“You son of a bitch, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you half growled, pulling his face back up towards yours, pressing a kiss to his sharp jawline, attempting to kiss him again.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” he grinned wickedly, denying your lips of his.

His hand pressed flat against your stomach, pushing you backwards on his desk while hiking up your skirt. His lips pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh as his hands spread your legs and pushed your panties to the side.

“Spencer, please- fuck,” you moaned, his tongue licking a slow path up you.

“Oh I’ll get to that eventually, just you wait,” he chuckled.

Your ability to form coherent words had vanished, so no remark came in response from you. All you could focus on was his mouth on you and that you wanted more.

You could’ve killed him when he stopped just on the brink of your undoing.

“Darling, if I had to listen to you much longer I would’ve been done for,” he commented, kissing you again, helping you unfasten his pants before you climb in his lap.

The mutual feeling of ecstasy was all over both your faces the moment you lowered yourself down on him. You vowed then to always let him win the game after this because this was too amazing to miss out on.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, fucking hell,” he groaned into your neck, his slight stubble scratching against your neck giving you chills.

It was rough and border animalistic, your lust and need for each other more than either of you could handle. Your hips rocked roughly against his, fingers digging into his biceps. Your eyes may have rolled back in your head at one point.

One hand is on the small of your back to steady you as you move up and down on him, your back arched as the pleasure rippled down your spine. His lips trail down your exposed throat, marking you as his, his other hand squeezing your hip.

Your hands grip the back of his chair to aid you in your rougher and harder movements as your orgasm builds, the sensation of a pit of lava in your stomach increasing.

A sheen of sweat coats his forehead, stray pieces of his brown curls sticking to his forehead. Your own hair has partially come out of its ponytail, stray pieces hanging in your face. His hand moves from your hip pushing some stray strands from your face before giving you a brief kiss.

His own release is quickly approaching as his head falls back against the back of his chair, teeth scraping his bottom lip.

“Oh yes, baby, yes,” he growls deep in his throat.

A hand snakes towards your core, his thumb circling your clit. Your climax hits you hard and fast causing your vision to nearly go white. Your breath catches, interrupting your ragged moan of his name.

He lets himself go then, his groans filling the empty room, his expression of blissful pleasure the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen him do.

As you ride out the aftershocks, his lips return to yours, kissing you more gently this time, the action full of love. Your hips have slowed then stilled when he breaks the kiss.

“God, you’re amazing,” he whispers, nudging his nose playfully against yours.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can stay in his lap for a moment longer before you have to stand and clean yourself up.

“I think I have a new rule for the game,” you commented.

“What’s that?”

“Spencer always wins.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid gifs #Criminal Minds #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

908 notes · View notes

bokutosbestie2 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

This story is going to be fun!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Earlier before the party

Atsumu Pov:

" That was a fun practice guys! " I tell the team.

" Yea it was! Your spikes have gotten faster!! " Hinata said with excitement. " No need to tell me I know "

" OH SHUT UP," Sakusa said

" HEY HEY HEY!! NO need to get mad! " Bokuto yelled.

" Well anyways do you guys want to go out for dinner!! " Hinata looked at all of us.

" I'm down! " Bokuto said.

" I'll go I guess... just please wash your hands before you eat. " Sakusa said

Aww, I WANTED to go...

" Sorry, guys I can't go! I have to go help Osamu cater for a party. We made a bet a while ago and I lost... Now I have to go help him. " I rolled my eyes.

" Awww ok then Have fun! " Hinata and the others being to leave.

" Ok see you guys on Monday! " I yell at them as they left thru the doors. I packed my things and left the gym. I went straight to Osamu restaurant.

" I'M HERE!! " I yell across the restaurant

People were staring at me, they're probably admiring my looks.

Osamu's head pops out the back, he whispers to get over there.

" SHEEZ BE LOUDER NEXT TIME! " Osamu said mad.

" OK FINE I WILL! " I say annoyed.

" Ok put on an apron and HELP ME! "

" UGH, I DON'T WANNA!! "

" ATSUMU YOU LOST THE BET! "

" Ugh FINE FINE! "

The bell ring in front.

" Oh someone here! Atsumu you better start helping me! " Osamu left to the front counter.

" aTsUmU yOu bEtTer sTaRT hElPiNg mE! "

After 5 minutes Osamu came..

He didn't seem happy because he found me on my phone.

"ATSUMU HELP ME MAKE SOME ONIGIRI! I NEED TO TAKE THEM TO A PARTY AROUND 10! "

" OSAMU IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU TOOK UP THIS OFFER! "

" SHUT UP THERE A CUTE GIRL OUT THERE! " he loudly whispers.

" OOOOO OSAMU HAS A ~ Crush " I began to laugh.

" Whatever now move over so I can make her onigiri."

" Fine. "

After Osamu made the onigiris for the girl I can hear him get nervous when he hands the food.

" HAHA YOU GOT SO NERVOUS "

" SHE WAS CUTE and NICE! "

" COME ON STOP DROOLING AND HELP ME! "

" wow, Atsumu said something right for once? "

" I'M NOT GONNA HELP YOU! "

" Fine fine. "

We started making the Origiris, they were hard to make I don't know how Osamu does it all the time. A while has passed and it was about 9 pm.

Me and Osamu head to the building where the party was being hosted. The host of the party was Eita Semi, he used to play volleyball with Ushijima in high school. When we got there Semi was waiting for us at the back door.

" Hey, guys long time no see! " Semi says

" Hey, Semi! Thank you for letting me cater for the party! " Osamu said thanking him.

" Of course you have the best Origiris! I want everyone at the party to taste them. "

" Well, I can't wait for them to try! " Osamu said happily.

" And you how's volleyball. ". Semi points at me.

" Pretty good it's been fun! " I say happily.

" Good I'm glad you enjoy it. I miss volleyball sometimes but I'm happy with what I'm doing now. "

" Well just tell me when you want to play volleyball! We can bring the old teams back together. "

" HAHA let us do it one of these days, but for now let's get Osamu set up because the guest will soon come. " Semi begin to walk.

After talking to Semi we went inside to set up the catering. All of a sudden guests started to come in slowly. Around 10:45 there was a crowd of people especially Osamu area, there were loads of people asking for Origiris. I got bored so I decided to sit at the bar.

I sat there, some girls recognized me from MSBY. They were flirting with me and asking me questions about volleyball. More girls kept coming until I was circled by them.

" Atsumu you're so cute! "

" Hmm, not as cute as you! " I winked at the girls

" You should introduce us to your team they're all so cute! "

" Hmm, I'll think about it! They, not as cool as me tho just telling you now! "

The girls giggled.

" Oh my gosh we're dying to ask are you talking to any girls or DATING?! "

" No not anyone right now, but hey! One of you can be a lucky girl! " I smirked at all of them as they fell for my little trap.

I kept talking to the girls until I realized a couple arguing. I blocked out the girls so I can focus on the couple. All of a sudden I see the girl with a pink dress slap the man.

" Hey excuse me, ladies! I'll be back! "

" Awwww," they all said the union.

I walked over to the couple as I see the man raise his arm to hit the girl.

Thankfully I was close enough to grab his arm in time. I notice the girl was completely out.. she was drunk.

" Don't you see she drunk?! "

" Hey man control your girlfriend, she can't let a man flirt. " the man says

" Yo get lost no girl would want you with your nasty personality! " the girl sticks her tongue out.

" Woah Woah, FIRST of all she isn't my girl and SECOND you CLAM DOWN! " I say as I let go of the man's arm.

" Now you're going to tell me what to do?! " the drunk girl says angrily.

" Well man, you saved me from this one! Have fun! " the random man hits my shoulder then leaves.

" Hey, you! "

I looked at the drunk girl when she shouted.

" Yea you, why is your hair two colors you look like an Oreo! "

" I do not look like an Oreo! "

" YES YOU DO! " the drunk girl says as she goes on her tippy toes to touch my hair. " Hey hey STOP THAT! "

" NO! " she pouts

" YES! "

" IM LEAVING! " the girl turned around.

" HEY WHERES YOUR FRIENDS? YOU SHOULD NOT be DRUNK AND ALONE! " I shouted through the noise.

" YOUR NOT My MOM! "

" COME HERE! " I shouted

This drunk girl was running through the crowd of people. Even if I didn't know her I couldn't leave her alone in this state, someone can take advantage of her.

I catch up to her and pulled her arm.

" Where are your friends? You need to go home your so drunk! "

" Friends? I don't know !! "

This girl...

" Come on think?! "

" Is this why he left me? "

WHAT IS THIS GIRL SAYING?!

Her eyes started watering..

" Why did he leave me?! I know I'm not the Best But I can be! I CAN BE THE BEST GIRLFRIEND HE HAD! " tears rolled down her face.

Now I understand why she this drunk. She must've drunk her feelings away.

" I don't know who you are but I promise you whatever happens it wasn't your fault. "

" Really?! " she says wiping her tears.

" Yes really! "

" you right he was a DI- "

" ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! " I yelled

She just threw up all over the floor and herself. NOW I CAN'T LEAVE HER HERE ALONE!

" Sorry! " She says

" Eh EH it's FINE! "

"LET'S GO WE ARE LEAVING! " I say pulling my arm thru the crowd of people.

If Sakusa was here.. he would have passed away from the smell of throw-up.

" WHERE WE GOING?! " She yelled.

" HOME THAT'S WHERE WE ARE GOING! "

" Home?!"

We got to the doors I open them only to see people smoking.

I walked past the people to find my car.

Once I spotted my car, I and this drunk girl walk to it.

" HEY, ARE YOU KIDNAPPING ME ? "

" NO NOW GET IN THE CAR! "

" UGH FINE YOU SO MEAN! "

She got into the car as she pouted. I got into the driver's seat and started the car. Luckily Osamu house was only 10 minutes away. I drove to his house with this random drunk girl.

" Ok, we are here! "

" I DON'T WANT TO GET DOWN! "

" You HAVE TO! " I say as I get down.

She also gets down.

Once I open the door to Osamu's house The drunk girl ran inside.

" DON'T SIT ANYWHERE YOU HAVE TO SHOWER AND CHANGE! "

"NO, I DON'T WANNA! "

How I'm I putting this up..

I grab her arm to only bring her to the bathroom. I go to the guest room and get a shirt for her to put on.

" I Forgot to ask you what's your name Oreo hair? "

" I- IT'S NOT OREO HAIR! It's Atsumu! "

" Atsumu?! THAT SOUNDS FAMILIAR! "

" What's your name? "

" L/N F/N "

" Ok then y/n GET IN THE SHOWER I'll be waiting in the living room. “

" UGHHH FINE YOU'RE SO MEAN I HATE IT! "

I closed the door as she shouted. I can't believe I brought a drunk girl home. When Osamu comes home he is going to ask so many questions.

10 minutes later.

" ATSUMU I'M DONE!!!! "

Y/n came out of the bathroom with my large shirt, running towards the kitchen.

" GOOD NOW DRINK WATER! I'll be sleeping on the couch you can sleep in the guest bedroom. "

" FINE! " she shouted.

I lay on the couch to get ready to sleep. Y/n on the other hand walked into the guest room and shut the door.

Osamu is going to have so many questions on why I brought a girl home. He is going to think I had a one-night stand.

I kept thinking but my eyes became heavier.

Around 3 am

Osamu pov:

" Atsumu I'm home! "

Uh, why is he sleeping on the couch, not in the guest room? Also, why is the guest room shut completely?

I walked over to Atsumu and smacked him to wake up.

" OW, WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! "

" Why ARENT are you sleeping in the guest room? "

" Well... I might have brought a... Drunk girl home. "

" ATSUMU DID YOU GUYS -"

" NO, NO SHEEZ OSAMU! "

" Oh gosh thank GOODNESS! "

All of a sudden the guest door opened.. I recognize the confused girl.

Y/n Pov:

Ugh, why does my head hurt... Umm, what bed am I on? WHAT SHIRT AM I WEARING?? UH UH, WHERE AM I?

As sit up straight on the bed, the only thing I see in this room is volleyballs and jerseys. I looked around the room and hear Loud whispers outside.

I get off the bed.

OUCH, MY HEAD HURTS!

I get close to the door, I opened it wide to only see the guy from the Origiris and Someone identical to him on the couch.

WTF!

I looked at them confused as they look at me bewildered.

Chapter 3

#msby atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya astumu #hq atsumu #fanfic #haikyuu time skip #osamu miya #haikyuu x female reader #msby black jackal #atsumu fanfic

12 notes · View notes

project-rosewood-476 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 part 1 Of Every Rose Has Its Thorns is out now! the AU and some of the ideas and characters belong to @creepypasta-shtick and Maplehood Creek, Rosewood, and Tabby Anderson belong to me.

TW: character death, mentions of blood and gore

Tabby was always an early bird due to her stepdad getting her up at 5 in the morning. Also with Rosewood starting at 7:45 am. But she slept through until 7-8 in the morning. Tabby woke up and stretched and winced at her bruises. She slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes confused. This wasn't her house. This wasn't her room...then last nights events came rushing back to her

"So it wasn't a dream after all... and I'm alive...I survived my first night in this strange new world. One day down and another one to go" she said in thought. she grinned as the new reality set in.

"I'm free...of my stepdad, Rosewood, and Horacio!" She said in thought also she let out a quiet giggle to herself.

She got out of the bed and put her knives on the nightstand for now. She took a good look at herself in the mirror. Her red-brown hair turned into a messy low ponytail with a couple of wavy strands that were out. That was due to the tossing and turning in her sleep. She still had dark circles under her eyes and they still appeared to be sunken back slightly. But they had that spark of life back in them again. But you can never catch up on lost sleep. She fell asleep in her clothes from yesterday but she'll change today. She really had no use for PJs she only used them on occasion. Her older bruises were almost completely faded away and her new ones started the healing process. Pretty soon all there would be was the scars from her old life and new bruises and cuts from training and missions and stuff. Hopefully less than what she has now.

She quickly got dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt and blue jeans to cover up the scars and bruises. She was more clear-minded than she was last night. No one else needed to see her bruises and scars and think that she's weak and sickly. She put on her shoes and went out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

Toby has done a lot for her in one night. It was only fair to return the favor. The least she could do is cook him breakfast. She looked in the fridge and saw some eggs. She took out the carton and put it on the counter. She saw some bread laying about too and saw a toaster.

"Perfect!" She thought to herself.

She looked around for a frying pan, plates, and utensils. It took her a while to find the stuff in the kitchen but she made her way around and made very little noise as possible. And was humming a song that she knew to herself. She put the two pieces of bread in the toaster and started making the eggs for herself first.

Toby was still kind of groggy but he pulled himself up and yawned. It took him a little while to get used to being awake so he waited for a bit before turning off his radio. He went up to go to the bathroom. He had several wounds he needed to make sure stayed clean after all. After cleaning himself up, he figured he should go out and get the newspaper or something. He knew that after a couple of weeks he would have a huge mission that would involve putting on a fake identity and infiltrating a school, which he was not looking forward to. He was incredibly anxious about it. From the bathroom, he could hear a knock on the front door. Oh right. He had locked it. It was probably Jane and she had probably finished Tabby's mask that night.

Tabby put her eggs and toast on a plate and went to answer the front door. She unlocked it and opened the door a little bit. warily and cautiously.

Jane had left the box on the front door. It was a nice-looking box. It could be easily opened. She had stayed up all night doing the mask.

Tabby opened the door wider and cautiously picked up the box. She eyed it suspiciously. She decided to leave it on the table and decided to wait for Toby to come out so she wouldn't be alone while opening it just in case it could be a trap.

Tabby began to eat her breakfast. She kept eyeing the box in a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. She wanted to open it badly but decided that she knew better than to open it by herself as Jane's words echoed through her head from last night.

'Don't trust gifts that are given to you even if they're given by people you know, there are a lot of backstabbers here'.

She continued to wait patiently.

Toby came outside the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen. He saw Tabby and the box.

"Oh. That looks like the box Jane uses to deliver masks." He stared plainly.

He went to the fridge and began rifling through it. Jane's boxes always looked distinct to show that they carried masks that she had made her own.

"Oh you don't have to rummage through the fridge," she said in between bites "I was going to make you some eggs as a sort of a thank you. But then I realized that I don't know how you like your eggs...or even if you like eggs...I also didn't know if you were like me in needing to watch your food being made to make sure it's not poisoned. So I waited before I did anything."

"But if you do like eggs how do you like them? I could make you some..." she said a little shyly as she looked down and went to open the box.

She opened the box slowly and warily. She took out the mask and inspected it. It was a pretty teal with golden spirals branching out from one another and at some angles, the gold glittered in the light. She checked the inside of the mask and smiled to herself when she saw the names of the people she lost engraved inside. She put it on and looked at Toby.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm the type of person who likes taking care of myself." Toby explained.

He had needed to make his own breakfast since he was 8, and a change from routine would just feel somewhat alien. He thanked her for her offer though. He turned when he felt the air somewhat shift and saw that she had put on her mask.

"Oh, that looks great. Does it feel okay? Natural?" He asked. He got out some leftover breakfast from the day before and went to heat it up.

"Fair enough," she said.

She understood not wanting to rely on others since she has been neglected since she was 4 so she had to learn how to do the basics of taking care of herself.

"It feels weird at first but I'll get used to it" she put the mask in her box and went to pick up the eggs and put them back in the fridge.

She finished up the last bit of her egg sandwich that she made and went to do up her little bit of dishes. She unwrapped her left hand so the bandages can stay clean and dry. You could see the surgical incisions that were made to get the glass out. The scars were in that in-between stage of old and fresh. Her hand was healed but you can tell that the doctors didn't set it right as it looked out of place.

Toby nodded.

"It will feel weird at first but soon you'll freak out seeing yourself without it."

He wanted to make the transition into this new life as painless as possible. He remembered being incredibly freaked out at the beginning. He noticed her hand. Oh, man. EJ would lose his shit 'seeing' the work done on that hand. Toby thanked her for doing her dishes.

"By the way, you said you wanted to go to the library today?" Toby said. "While we're out, I could sort of show you around if you want. A lot of your first missions will be fetch and deliver, so it's nice to know where to go." He was finishing up his breakfast.

"Yeah I did say that and it would be nice to know my way around. I mean I'm going to be on my own at some point so yeah"

She dried off her hands and notice that he was looking at her damaged hand.

"Yeah I know it's not a pretty picture. Reason number 1025 of why I hate and don't trust doctors. They can't do their damn jobs right" she gave him a bitter smile.

"So your mission was fairly riskless huh?" She raised an eyebrow as she nodded towards his injuries "I do hope you took care of them properly" she gently re-wrapped her hand in the bandages.

Toby nodded.

"Yeah, you will be. Once you finish training, the boss will give you a new place." He said. "I'll show you around, introduce you to a few people." He said.

"I understand the sentiment about doctors though, but for me it's therapists. My therapist knew I was abused and, as a mandated reporter, didn't call CPS for me." He said.

He knew there were competent doctors and therapists, but that didn't change his experiences.

At her comment, he nodded. "They're just small cuts and bruises. Come from running through the woods." He said.

"Same. I hated therapists too. I've been through 7 psychiatrists. My parents believed that I was delusional and paranoid because they didn't believe me about my horror stories at Rosewood. My therapists didn't believe anything I said about Rosewood or about how my stepdad abused me but left the rest of my family out of it" she gave him the finger guns and another bitter smile but she looked like she just wanted to die.

Toby nodded. "I got a therapist after my sister died. I still remember her. She was this older woman, about the same age as my mom and she always had this fake, vacant smile. It used to piss me off." He said.

He understood.

"They used my mental illness to totally discredit what I saw and what I said happened to me. She tried to have me involuntarily committed."

Toby shrugged a bit while clearing his dishes.

"I've thought about killing her, honestly, but I figured it wasn't really worth it." He said, starting the water

"But they did manage to diagnose me correctly on OCD, Anxiety, PTSD, and Paranoia which all had to do with Rosewood and my stepdad but not for the reasons that they thought. We're probably missing a few others since they can't diagnose me fully correctly", stated Tabby.

"I understand," Toby said.

He finished cleaning up his dishes. He already was dressed for the day and was still wearing his mouth guard and goggles. He put on his gloves.

"You ready to go in a bit?" He asked.

"Honestly they're just doing it to get paid and not caring how they do it" "I've thought about killing my stepdad and I would have if it was just my mom and not...someone else involved...", she trailed off and looked away.

"Well, I killed my dad," Toby said with a shrug.

"And I let my mom find the body." He put his dishes away.

"I feel like my life would be so much different if I had actually had a decent therapist. I know they're out there and I'm just so pissed that I got a shitty one. If I had one that actually cared, I probably would still be human."

"Lucky you. I would have done the same but I never had the luxury to be selfish. This is the first time I actually put myself first"

She knew that wasn't entirely true either. She would have gladly let masky and hoodie kill her. She wouldn't even have had to put up a fight. But toby was the one who spared her life and he did it for a reason. She promised herself that she would stay alive for him so his efforts wouldn't go in vain. It wouldn't be fair to him if she died. On top of her promises to kill Horacio and avenge her friends. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Yeah I'll be ready to go in a few minutes I just need to brush my hair and teeth real quick." She said not ignoring his previous statement.

Tabby went to her room to get her things and went into the bathroom to do her thing. She came out with a neater-looking ponytail. She grabbed the box and headed back to her room to put her things away. She then came back out wearing her thick red plaid jacket that she always wore with her gray hood up and put her new mask on.

"I'm ready to go"

Toby nodded. "Alright. Let's go." He said. He was in his usual attire. It was worn, but clean.

"Do you want to go to the library first, or would you like me to show you around first?"

"I would like to go to the library first please if that's okay. Afterward, it will give us time for you to show me around and meet a few people", said Tabby.

"Okay, that works. There are some things that you'll want to know about the library through." Toby explained.

Tabby paused for a minute "Which are?" She trailed off.

"Well, the librarians are all disgraced proxies and monsters as well as retired proxies," Toby said.

"And usually you're not supposed to talk to the librarians unless it's for something strictly about the library. However, the librarians are very smart and have very large comprehensive knowledge over things."

Tabby nodded slowly in understanding "okay I got it. I don't usually talk to anyone in general"

"If you get on their good side, they'll defend you though," Toby said. "A lot of stuff can go down at the library."

She snorted "doesn't surprise me"

She had a mini flashback to the library at Rosewood. She was a bookworm and the library was the least sinister place in the school. Even though it too carried its own dark secrets of Rosewood. Libraries were considered sacred and neutral ground at Rosewood.

Toby knew of a proxy who had gotten beaten to death in the library. The library was usually quiet but sometimes could get very messy. He held the door for her. It was good practice to say goodbye to the desk lady before they left.

"Is that all?" She asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. Would you like me to stay there with you?", he asked.

"Yes, please. Two is better than one right?"

She mentally cursed herself for saying yes. She had to prove to him at some point that she could take care of herself and hold her own. But she didn't want to be left in this strange new world that was day 2 for her. Especially around strangers who wouldn't hesitate to kill her if given the chance. If she had someone with her the chances of that happening would be slim to none. And she was taught from a young age that you never go anywhere alone. Especially in Maplehood unless you had to.

"Survival reasons", she told him to justify herself, "I'm fresh meat as it is and curiosity about the new girl is inevitable. I'm crippled and small and I would be alone which means it would be easy for someone to kill me without a second thought. I'm young, not stupid so it's better to go with someone and only go alone if I absolutely have to".

She babbled on her reasoning to him and she was getting defensive about it because she didn't want him to think that she was a little bitch that can't take care of herself.

Toby understood. She didn't need to justify herself to him, he understood.

"Hey, it really is okay. I'll just sit nearby and maybe chat to a few people." Toby was decently popular.

"Okay… can we go now?" She asked.

"Yeah," Toby said. He moved to let her out of the apartment.

11 notes · View notes