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stuffymcstuffsworld · 9 months

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Under foot

*Warning content mature for physical confrontation in story do not attempt in reality*

Someone should have warned him. Honestly? You thought someone had by now, and he was just ignoring the rumors. But really now, he was asking for it. If it didn't come from you, you were sure someone else would have done it.

Nobody scares your son and gets away with it. And how dare this mutt even think of telling your little Ray of Sunshine that he doesn't belong here when clearly he is thriving. How was this flea bag even related to a pedigree of Kalego-Sans caliber?

You stared down at the demon that you had just bitch-slapped to the ground. You won't apologize he was upsetting iruma and your poor baby looked close to a panic attack! You stood your ground and kept yourself in front of iruma just in case.

"It seems to me that you're the one who doesn't quite understand their place. You must have very low self-esteem if scaring a child makes you feel high and mighty." The cold tone, much like the echoed song of your slap, had the entire rooms attention.

"I don't want to hear that coming from an unrank-" another slap knocked him over before he could even try to climb back up on whatever high horse he rode in here with. You spotted a trickle of blood run down his cheek, and you buzzed with glee inside.

"Regardless of if I am or without a rank, do you honestly think that I would let you get away with threatening my child?" You examine your nails for a moment letting out a soft tsk when you spotted a chip in the perfect manicure Opera had given you for tonight.

"Frankly, I don't give a shit about who you are. I made a promise to my child from day one that I would protect them. You've made yourself a threat. It's sad to see that one who is a candidate for the 13 crowns is a mannerless dog."

You had been excited to meet the brother Kalego-San had spoken highly of, but meeting him like this, you knew Kalego-Sans opinion was unfortunately biased. He tried to push himself up, but you weren't done yet. Jamming your heeled shoe right into his calf, he grunted in pain. Mentally, you thanked Opera for convincing you to wear stilettos instead of the normal wedged shoes you would grab for height.

He snarled at you and tried to scare you with his magic. A large black wolf with 3 eyes and multiple tails. The beast imitated it's masters displeasure and growled deeply. It was scary you'd give it that 7/10 on the whole it'll eat me alive bit. But iruma being hurt or scared was far more terrifying to you.

Looking it up and down, you feigned disinterest. "Practically foaming at the mouth. A rabid beast with a moronic and tactless master." The dry monotone seemed to confuse all those watching. How could you be so calm?

Taking a small breath, you locked eyes with the animal. It was a battle of wills. And you were not willing to lose when you had iruma shaking behind you. Your baby came first, not you. So you weren't going to turn tail.

Twisting your foot deeper into your prey you grasped Fenrir's ear and also held it in a tight pinch he was not getting up or escaping anytime soon you noted from the painfull hiss you heard escape his lips. Oh, right, demons' ears were far more sensitive. You noted before brushing off the thought with a he'll live. 'For now.' A dark and twisted part of you agreed.

The wolf seemed conflicted as it watched you manhandled its owner. Though like a loyal dog, it did try baring its fangs at you. You bared your own teeth and let out a guttural snarl. You weren't certain if animal noises from Earth translated to those in Hell, but you hoped the message was still clear. 'Back off mutt.'

Its ears immediately flattened, and it let out a whine of sorts before disappearing. Glancing down, you saw Fenrir looking at you in what you could only describe as pure shock. Clearly, no one had been able to do that before. Good.

"See, even your little puppy knows when to submit to the alpha of the pack." You released his ear but did not ease your foot. Looming over him, you carefully stroaked the scratches you had landed on his face. He winced as you started applying pressure to the wound.

"You think you're superior? I literally have you under foot. I thought those of you on the border patrol were taught not to underestimate your enemy?" Tilting your head back, you glanced over at iruma just a quick check. He had stopped shaking and was looking at you in amazement.

You knew why. The entire course of your actions screamed that 'I belong here'. And if you who had less magic and no physical strength could walk amongst demons and go toe to toe with them, it was saying so could he and his ideals. You gave him a quick smile before returning your gaze to your current headache.

You had an entire room full of demons watching, and of course, you had a role to finish. Acting out the role of Irumas enraged parent was easy. Took absolutely no effort on your part cause you were actually that pissed. But being Sullivan's child, you had to show a bit of class.

You were among high society in the demon world, after all, for a party for the newest members of the 13 crowns. And you had one of the candidates under your heeled boots injured and awaiting your next move. The crowd mermered most in fascination of your control over not only the situation but the room itself.

It was as though you were holding trial over a convicted criminal. Or a ruler holding court and about to perform an execution. Finally removing your hand, you showed him your palm stained with his own blood. A vicious and cunning smile painted your face. Leaning closer, you allowed the weight of your body to press into his leg, allowing him to feel more pain from your actions.

And as he tried to hold back any sounds of discomfort and erase any traces of pain from his face, you started to whisper in his ears. "I know exactly who you are, Naberius Narnia, and I know you know what I am." His body stiffened immediately, seeming to realize how much trouble he was actually in with you.

"Don't you think it's funny? That demons needed to be the ones to leave instead of humans. I do." You purred into his ear, watching him twitch. "It's so cute how one thinks it was for the safety of humans that demon kind left!" Leaning back, you began to ease your foot off him.

"The reality of the matter is demons like you got scared of ones like me. Ones who just charge in blindly uncaring of the odds against them. Humans can be more frightening than demons when they want something." Your voice still low and hushed almost seductive.

"I don't care what you're planning. You could flip Hell upside-down for all I care. But if you try to drag my son into whatever game you are playing, just know this. You will meet your end by my hand. You will watch as I rip your wings off so you can't fly away. You will see me slowly skin you inch by inch. Your eyes will be my new earrings watching each bit of horror I wreak on you."

Standing at full height, you smirked down at him, confidence oozing out of you as you looked at the once proud alpha reduced to a quivering omega. Once more, you showed him your blood-stained palm. The madness seeping through your eyes, and you voice loud enough for the room to hear now.

"I do believe we've made quite the scene. It would be a shame for this party to be ruined by some... disagreement of opinions. I'm certain you've learned to be more mindful of your words, especially around children. They are impressionable."

The unspoken warning rang throughout the ballroom. Bowing his head lowly at you. "Thank you for imparting your wisdom on me. It was... enlightening." He remained on the floor, not daring to move. "And?"

Licking his lips, he lowered himself further down. "I apologize to both you and your son for my brazen behavior. You are correct, I acted out of line. And for that I am sorry." You tilted your head and hummed as if debating on if the apology had been to your liking.

"Thank you, we accept your apology." Iruma nervously spoke from behind you. You clapped your hands together cheerfully. "I'm so glad that's settled! Now run along doggy and go wash up." Waving the vile demon away from you, you watched as he quickly slipped out of the room. Only when he had disappeared behind the doors did you turn to face your son.

"Thank you for keeping our promise." Iruma said, smiling peacefully now that everything was over. "I intend to keep it with my dying breath." You told him before ruffling his hair. "Ugh, I'm hungry. Let's eat!" You quickly guided him to one of the nearby tables to stack countless items on your plates.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #reader #welcome to demon school iruma kun #iruma suzuki #lord sullivan #opera #kalego sensei #naberius kalego #naberius narnia

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littlemisspascal · 1 year

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Rockford & Roan Pt. 3

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: "I’m an empath, not a mind reader. If you really want there to be no secrets between us then we’ve got to start actually talking to each other. Beginning with why the hell you have a murder map in your office.”

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, references of dead bodies + suicide

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford

Author Note: Thank you so so much for all the kind support 💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Office

You’re spitting the last remnants of toothpaste from your mouth when Banjo shoots down the hallway, a brown blur in your peripheral. Last you’d seen him, a mere few minutes ago, he was curled up on his memory foam bed in your room, ready to retire for the night. You stick your head out the doorway, wondering what’s got him riled up.

The little mutt sits outside Rockford’s office, pawing at the wooden door. Since moving in, the two have developed a close bond of their own (although you have a sneaking suspicion based on the crumbs you keep finding in Banjo’s beard, treats from the bakery below might be at least partly responsible), and it isn’t unusual to find Rockford lying on the living room floor scratching the dog’s belly or carrying him around like a small, furry child.

“He’s gone, bud,” you tell Banjo, a sympathetic frown on your lips. Despite the light beneath the closed office door, you’d heard Rockford leave the apartment shortly after you slipped into your pajamas. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to either. The slamming of the front door was enough of a clear indicator he wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

A twinge of something sharp pulls at your chest, sour on the back of your tongue, but you shove it down. Banjo’s still pawing insistently, softly whining even as you draw closer with a disapproving tutting sound.

“There’s nobody in there, Banjo. C’mon, it’s bedtime. Let’s go to sleep, lil doggy.”

Usually Banjo’s well-behaved, following basic commands without issue, but every once in a while his stubbornness rivals a fence post, refusing to comply until you give in to his wanting.

Exhaling a quiet sigh, you reach for the knob, anticipating it to be locked so then Banjo will see nothing else can be done.

Except the knob twists in your grip with ease.

Huh. You blink dumbly at your hand for a second, then make the mistake of looking down at Banjo’s body wiggling with excitement, tongue lolling. Great, you heave another sigh, knowing he won’t let you sleep until he sees inside.

Still, you hesitate to open the door. You’ve never been in Rockford’s office, never wanted to interfere with whatever it was he was working on. It feels like an invasion of privacy to go in when he’s not home. But…You bite your lip, curiosity prickling in the back of your mind. A little peek wouldn’t hurt anybody. For the sake of your sleep schedule, you have to prove Rockford isn’t there.

The hinges elicit a squeaky groan as you push the door open. Banjo takes advantage of the smallest of gaps to beat you into the room, too impatient to wait for your cue.

Maybe that’s why you’re slow to register what’s on the pinboard at first. Eyes too busy sweeping the floor for Banjo, finding him snuffling at the edges of Rockford’s roll top desk as if the oakwood and scattered documents provided the answers to Rockford’s whereabouts. You shake your head at the scene, endlessly amused at both your little mutt’s antics and your roommate’s inability to keep his personal items tidy.

Well, that’s not exactly fair, you reassess your opinion while taking in more of the office. There are still too many books than the shelves will allow, piled up in a tilting stack one heavy sigh away from toppling over, and there’s a family of dust bunnies beneath his leather chair—but the pinboard with its crisscrossing red strings connecting article clippings to sticky notes and crime scene polaroids of dead bodies is proof Rockford can be organized.

It’s also proof there’s still a helluva lot left to learn about him.

Your mouth goes dry, thoughts tripping over themselves and smacking around the inside of your skull in their mad attempt of providing a logical explanation of what the hell this thing is. Because it looks like an evidence board, like a prop straight out of a police drama with photos of actors and fake blood for the sake of fictional storylines.

Except everything on this pinboard is real. You don’t need Rockford’s confirmation to be certain—you’ve seen enough dead bodies to disturb your sleep for decades, immediately recognize the dim lifelessness in their eyes with one look. Like a burnt out bulb. There’s no faking that.

And being real makes the question why this pinboard’s in his office all the more unsettling to wonder.

You don’t know how long you stand there, looking between the disturbing newspaper reports detailing a string of suicides unfolding sporadically throughout the city over the last eight months and the even more disturbing photos of the victims. Could be minutes, could be hours. Banjo sits by your leg, yawning, but you can’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, unable to make sense of Rockford’s scribblings on pink and yellow sticky notes.

It’s not the handwriting itself—in comparison to Dr. Odair, Rockford’s got the penmanship of a god, every stroke precise and purposeful—but rather, his staunch belief that there’s a connection to be found linking all the incidents together despite the total lack of evidence suggesting one exists.

Just when you think the man can’t get any more strange…

The sound of the front door opening yanks you out of your thoughts. Banjo barks happily, racing out the open door to greet Rockford, and you can feel the precise moment your roommate realizes where the dog has come from, that his office door is now open. You expect the ping of surprise, but what you don’t expect is the easy wave of acceptance following afterwards. There’s not even the faintest buzz of annoyance at breaching his privacy.

His footsteps draw closer, murmuring quietly to Banjo about it being past the pup’s bedtime. Your hands subconsciously curl into fists, tension digging into the meat of your shoulders in defiance of the calm mood. You’re self-aware enough to know you can’t go to sleep without answers, can’t pretend you’re not freaked out by the pinboard and all its darkness.

Swallowing thickly, you turn to face the doorway.

You have to know the truth.

And the only person who can provide it has just walked into the room, brown eyes bright and crinkling as he laughs at your dog.

The Truth

“I’m surprised to see you’re both still awake,” Rockford says in lieu of greeting, toeing off his shoes and kicking them in the direction of his desk.

You’re thrown off by the neon glow of his yellow socks. Are they always such bright colors? Seriously, they could be used to land planes. “...what?”

“Usually you’re out like a light by ten thirty.” There’s a ripple of something then, bright and tactile, rubbing up against your mind-gift like an overly affectionate animal. It’s gone before you can determine its name, vanishing in the wake of a sudden spike of concern so intense it grates against your nerves, pushing the air out of your lungs. “Did something happen while I was out?”

You watch his eyes dart about the office, lines of mild alarm creasing his forehead. Your shoulders remain tense, awaiting an outburst from the man about sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, but when his gaze finally locks onto yours all you can see, all you can feel is concern.

“Roan,” he prompts, clearly worried by your lack of response.

“I was getting ready for bed, but then Banjo decided he couldn’t rest without seeing you one last time. He thought you were in here and I knew you weren’t but still–” you flap a hand at the dog, silently conveying he’s a stubborn little furball. The same hand then awkwardly scratches at the back of your neck, fighting back a grimace as you continue, “And well, the door wasn’t locked so–”

“It’s never locked,” Rockford interjects, frowning now.

Your mouth hangs open for a beat, searching for words before at last managing a quiet, “Oh.”

One of his eyebrows lifts, a perfect arch expressing the confusion you sense muddying the waters of his mindscape.

“You did know that, didn’t you?” he asks the question slowly. Asks it like he already knows the answer and is dreading hearing it confirmed.

You clear your throat, gaze briefly dropping towards his socks again. “Not really, no.”

“Oh,” he echoes, brown eyes losing some of their shine. “Really? I thought you…” he shakes his head, cutting himself off. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is you know now, my office has never been and never will be off limits to you or Banjo.”

“Are you always this open with people?”

“Not with people, no. Just you.”

“Because we’re matched?”

He nods. “Way I figure it, if we really are two halves of the same whole, then it doesn’t make much sense keeping secrets.”

That elicits a scoff before you can stop yourself. “Uh-huh, right.” You point an accusing finger at the pinboard. “Then at what point were you going to bring that up?”

He glances at it, brow furrowing. “You mean my murder map?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Did you seriously just call it your murder map? What the hell?”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Rockford’s head tilts, eyeing you up and down. “Unless…” Realization sparks and fizzles followed by a sheepish look crossing his face. “Unless this is something else I never mentioned before?”

“No, Rockford,” the pitch of your voice borders on shrill causing him to flinch, “owning a fucking murder map never came up!” You force yourself to take a deep breath, cooling some of the fire prickling along your skin. “I’m an empath, not a mind reader. If you really want there to be no secrets between us then we’ve got to start actually talking to each other. Beginning with why the hell you have a murder map in your office.”

A long, painful pause follows.

You hate it, but you’re not going to be the one to break it. You’ve spoken enough, now the ball’s in his court. Except he’s just looking at you, mood so torturously still. Every second ticks by at a snail’s pace, and something an awful lot like panic is squeezing your heart, and you start to think you’ve screwed everything up, pushed too hard, crossed a line that can’t be forgiven–

Rockford moves closer, looking you straight in the eye, nearly toe to toe, and you try your best not to shrink. “You’re right,” he says at last, a quiet confession wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “For as much as we talk, we rarely actually…talk. And that’s my fault. I’ve been on my own for a long time. Long enough I’ve forgotten how to be known by someone else.”

It takes a second or two to remember how to make your lips move, how to form words. “I–” you take a breath, and try again. It has to be just right for him to understand. “This is all new territory for me too. We both have room for improvement.”

He cracks a wry smile at that, inclining his head close enough to note a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “Two halves of the same whole, yeah?”

Some of the tension drains from your frame, offering him a small, crooked grin of your own.

“To answer your earlier question about why I have a murder map,” Rockford continues, stepping around you to gently run a finger along one of the red strings, pausing at the end where a thumbtack holds a photo of an alleyway in place. “I’m a consulting detective.”

“A…consulting detective?” you repeat confusedly. You’ve never heard of such a job. Your eyes narrow, a bit shrewd, and start to ask, “Is that even–?”

“Yes, it’s a real job.” He rolls his eyes with a huff, apparently having heard such skepticism before. “When the police struggle putting together the pieces of a particular case, they call me to help solve it. My gift, it enables me to perceive things others miss.”

“Is that how you knew about me?” you ask, thinking back to your first meeting.

“No, Banjo’s quite the chatterbox,” he says, snickering when the mutt’s ears lift at the mention of his name.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, finding it funny how Rockford failed to mention his terrible sense of humor as one of his annoying traits. Hilarious, really.

Correctly sensing you’re not in a mood for jokes, he sobers up quickly, expression settling back into a serious one. “When we first met, I asked you if you were a psychic or empath? These mind-gifts tend to be hypersensitive when they’re unstable and in need of a match. This also sometimes results in them zoning out when triggered by somebody, such as a total stranger in the middle of the library. From there it was easy to deduce you had to have one of the two.”

“And the rest?”

“The way you stand, shoulders back and spine straight, never quite able to fully relax, that told me military,” he says decisively. “There’s no ring on your finger and you didn’t automatically turn down my offer of living together—meaning there was no current romantic partner or roommate you’d have to check with. No close family nearby either or you’d be living with them because it’s common knowledge empaths suffer when in solitude. You also would have hesitated if you’d merely been on leave, reluctant to change your living situation so drastically before returning to combat, so I knew you must’ve been discharged then.”

“You knew about my psychologist too,” you murmur, head swimming.

“A discharged soldier in Fox Leap with a mind-gift lacking a match?” He crosses his arms loosely over his chest, shrugging. “Wasn’t that big of a logical jump to make that you’d experienced a lapse of control. Happens to about thirty or so soldiers a year, majority of those possessing mind-gifts. Dr. Odair’s practically the first number on the military’s speed dial, of course they’d send you to her.”

Your lips purse. Put like that, it really is an easy jump to make.

“And from the reviews I’ve read, Dr. Odair deserves her prestigious reputation. Her coping techniques and methods are top notch, but the best treatment an unstable gift needs is to find its match. She would have informed you of this during your very first session.” Rockford’s on a roll now, words loud in the otherwise silent atmosphere of the office. “In the military, events unfold fast. Battles to be won, tasks to be completed. You would have started looking immediately, intent to find what was yours. However, you ended up adopting a pet, an emotional creature—that says your lack of results was beginning to wear on you. If you couldn’t find your match, at least you had a substitute for your mind-gift to bond with...”

He trails off after a glance at your face, mouth shutting with an audible noise, and you honestly have no idea what expression you’re even making. You don’t have any idea where your thoughts are either, they just seem to be floating aimlessly around in your brain.

You aren’t sure what you expected from Rockford, but it definitely hadn’t been this—a detailed breakdown of his gift’s assessment of you, like you weren’t a person anymore but one of the crossword puzzles he solves every morning. 1 Across: friendless. 5 Down: at wits’ end. Bonus Word: goodbye emotional privacy.

He knew all of that, all your flaws, all your issues, and still he offered you a home. Even as your match, there was no requirement to live together. No law forcing him to eat breakfast with you every morning or buy treats for Banjo or give you open access to his emotions. That was all Rockford.

“You,” you say at last, and something interesting happens in the pause between words. Rockford stiffens, watching you closely, tremors of apprehension he can’t quite fully suppress rattling your mind-gift. “...are amazing.”

Rockford’s eyes widen, looking—and feeling—abruptly dumbstruck. “Really?”

“Really really,” you confirm. A shadow of apprehension persists though, a black cloud you’d like to wipe from his beautiful mindscape forever. “What’s wrong?”

“Amazing isn’t what people normally say when I use my gift on them.”

“What do they normally say?”

The corner of his mouth curls up, a tiny, rueful thing that doesn’t suit his handsome face at all. “Fuck off.”

And it’s funny, the strange way such a mean response makes him even more endearing to you. But it’s something so personally relatable, another link in the chain binding you to one another.

“Idiots,” you say after a beat, pleased at the snort of amusement it garners. “Their loss is my gain.”

“I’m glad it was you, too, Roan,” Rockford replies, and there’s not a single spot of darkness staining his mood. Just ocean waves and sunshine as far as your mind-gift can reach—and a hint, the faintest of traces of that unnamed feeling from before.

Something soft. Something fond.

Something you could feel everyday for the rest of your life and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for you to say, “So are you gonna tell me what’s up with this case or not?”

#tim rockford #tim rockford fanfic #tim rockford x ofc #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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footballffbarbiex · 7 months

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leaving food out for the hedgehogs with Eric dier please 🥰

from this list.

I've actually missed writing Eric!

she runs off ahead of Eric, her little ponytail bouncing as she goes. wrapped up in a thick, warm coat which has mitts attached to the sleeves, black fleece leggings and wellington boots which seem far too big for her little frame, she's well prepared for the cold autumn weather. the days of 20c+ were now a distant memory and in its place is an icy bite.

Eric had discovered that hedgehogs were coming into the garden when one of the dogs had come in foaming at the mouth with a bloody nose, causing Eric to go out and see what had happened. the small creature was still curled up in a tight ball when he'd approached.

"looking for some food, mate?" Eric had asked, more to himself than the hedgehog itself who, of course, could not reply. despite the change in the weather, Eric couldn't believe that it was already weeks before Christmas but seeing the small prickly beings now being out, it was certainly marking the end of the year.

and so today, while she was at nursery, Eric had stopped by the pet store and purchased two shallow bowls, some wet cat food, some dried mealworms and a small bag of specific hedgehog food to mix through it all. her excitement when she'd rummaged through the carrier was contagious, and he'd given himself a little pat on his back for thinking of doing this.

he carries the bag containing everything and follows behind her to where she chooses to set everything up. close enough to watch from the patio, but far enough away to not spook them.

"right here," she declares, waving her arms around with a flourish at her chosen spot.

Eric places everything on the ground and empties out his bag. in one bowl, he empties some of the bottled water into it - because even hedgehogs deserve filtered clean water - and she helped to grab a handful of their food, shake just a little of the dried worms in and help to open up the cat food pouch.

"it smells," she remarks, and he has to agree. cat food was one of the worst smells - other than when it comes out of the other end.

"don't get it on your fingers then," he comments as she scrunches her nose up and carefully squeezes some out with his help. she takes the fork that he offers and gives it a good mix, with some of it coming over the edge of the bowl.

"oops," she whispers, turning to look at him with a grimace.

"it's ok, it just means they don't have to work as hard to get that bit of their dinner," Eric soothes her concerns away, smiling as she looks visibly relieved.

"do you think they'll like it?"

"i think they'll love it. i can't see many others leaving out little snacks for them, but they'll need it."

"why?"

"because they need a nice full belly for when they go for their big sleep before Christmas."

"can't they just ask Santa for a big meal?"

Eric chuckles to himself and reaches forward to ruffle her hair a little. "if only it was that simple bubba."

#football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #football blurb #football fanfiction #football fanfic #football drabble #eric dier one shot #eric dier imagine #eric dier blurb

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

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Chapter 20: This Time I’ll Stay

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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You hold the white item in your hand, staring at the two red straight lines on the small screen-like box. Tears run down your cheeks, a wide small on your face. All types of emotions washing over you like a big tide. Your trembling hands take your phone off the marble, calling the first people who you want to share it with.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” Akaashi asks you worriedly, hearing your sobs over the phone. Kenma joins the call, shocked to hear your short breaths.

“Why are you crying?” You hear Kenma shuffling on his bed. “Do you want me to go to you?”

“Keiji... Kenma...” You call them, crying even harder, the happiness in your heart overflowing. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m jus-”

“You’re what? You’re worrying me so much right now.” Keiji sounds like he’s mad so you stop yourself from wailing to be able to talk.

“I’m crying,” you say, not able to form sentences properly.

“Yes, you are. Why?” You feel Kenma roll his eyes even if you don’t see him.

“I’m pregnant.”

There is silence for a while until you hear Kenma’s chuckle. Keiji then follows. Your cries are tampered with laughter even though nothing is funny.

“Congratulations. I didn’t expect another child from you this early,” Keiji tells you, Kenma humming in agreement.

“Me, too. I can’t believe I’m pregnant again.” You hear a small gasp from the side, making your head whip to that direction. You see Kia standing at the doorway of the bathroom door. She’s staring at you with her mouth gaped and eyes widened.

“Mama’s pregnant...” She mutters, taking slow steps back. She runs out of the room and you quickly follow her, knowing what she’s going to do. She goes to the living room and opens the drawer where Kiyoomi keeps her phone that she uses for emergency calls.

Speaking of Kiyoomi, your fiancé, is in another city in the country for game. He’s supposed to go home the day after tomorrow. You plan to tell him that day, in person.

“Kia, put your phone down. Now.”

“No. I have to tell papa.”

“Kia...”

“Mama...”

“Kia, no.”

“Kia, yes.”

“It’s a surprise for your papa. We’ll tell him together.”

“No surprises.” Kia shakes her head, pressing the number 2 button in the dial pad for a long time. You hear the ringtone from a far so you quickly grab it from her hands.

“Kia?” You hear Kiyoomi speak from the other line, you push Kia’s face away with your empty hand, the other bringing the phone to your ear.

“Omi,” you speak awkwardly.

“Why are you calling me using Kia’s phone?” He asks in suspicion.

“My phone died and I had an urgent question, but it’s okay now,” you reason. “Good bye, baby.”

“(Y/N) wa-” You end the call. You look at Kia and she is glaring at you.

“Papa has to know!” She whines, folding her together and pressing them on her chest.

“He will, when he comes back home.”

2 days pass by fast, especially if you have to constantly stop Kia from spilling the beans to her father who calls at least 5 times a day. Kia waits for Kiyoomi to arrive, standing by the front door. You also stand behind her, securing that she won’t say anything. The door finally opens, KIyoomi getting surprised to see the two of you standing like dogs waiting for their owner to come home.

Kiyoomi lifts Kia first, then gives you a kiss. “Why are the two of you so tensed?” He asks you as the three of you go to the living room. You watch Kia, giving her ‘don’t-you-dare’ look.

“I’ll make dinner. Go take a bath,” you tell him, ignoring his question. You kiss his cheek, taking Kia away from his arms. He raises an eyebrow at you, but goes to the bathroom anyways. You sigh in relief when he’s not in sight, thinking that you are able to keep the surprise from him.

But Kiyoomi knows, because of Akaashi.

Sakusa was on a break, sitting on bench. His phone rang, so he checked who was calling. ‘Akaashi?’

“Hello, Sakusa-san,” the former setter greeted. Before Sakusa could even say anything back, Akaashi continued, “Congratulations on baby number 2.”

“What?” Sakusa cleared his throat, his mind going blank. Did he hear him right? He said baby number 2. He was sure he said that.

“I don’t think (Y/N) has told you yet,” Akaashi laughed awkwardly. “Can you pretend that you don’t know until she tells you? She’ll kill me if she finds out I told you before she did.”

“Okay,” Sakusa let out, still in shock. The call ended, but his phone was still on his ear, his body not able to move.

“Hey, it’s time to go back to pratice,” Atsumu called him, but he didn’t answer. The blonde setter goes to him, waving a hand in front of Sakusa’s face. “Are you dead?” Suddenly, the dark haired spiker pulled him into a hug. “What the fuck? Did you reprogram or something?!”

“Thank you for being a good setter to the team,” he told Atsumu, patting his back. “Do you want to eat out dinner later? Just to relax before our game tomorrow.”

“Is the world ending?!” Atsumu gasped dramatically.

“No, not at all. I think the world is doing great to be honest,” Sakusa responded, showing off a smile. Atsumu froze on his spot while the other man went back to the court.

The practice started once again, Kiyoomi playing better than ever. He was smiling the whole time, his teammates were creeped out. “Why is Omi smiling like that?” Bokuto whispered to Atsumu. Hinata leaned in also, wanting to join their conversation.

“He even hugged me a while ago,” Atsumu murmured back, side eyeing Sakusa.

“I’ll ask for a hug, too,” Bokuto claimed. He walked close to Sakusa, then poked his shoulder. “Can you give me a hug?”

“Sure,” Sakusa responded with no hesitance, taking Bokuto in for a hug. The grey haired man was astonished. After that, Bokuto went back to the other two, still stunned.

“Is Omi dying? Why is he so nice? Are his days getting counted,” Bokuto blurted, dazed.

“Maybe he’s repenting for all his sins, so he can go to heaven,” Hinata added, agreeing with Bokuto’s theory.

Sakusa heard all of their words, but all he could feel is happiness. He couldn’t explain what he emotions he were experiencing. All he could of at that moment was the growing child inside your stomach, your child.

Sakusa finally comes out of his shower, acting like usual but inside he is screaming. He already wants to tell you about the names he has come up with. He is so excited to shove it to his teammates that he’s having another child that will no longer consider them as boyfriends.

“Omi, you’re spacing out,” you point and he shakes his thoughts out of his head.

“Ah, sorry,” he says then continues to eat. You notice his little mannerisms: constant tapping of fingers on the surface, bouncing legs, hair running through hair. All of that means that he wants to say something. ‘Does he know?’

After dinner, he puts Kia to bed, you watching closely. He looks so smiley and excited. You lie down beside him, and he looks like he’s going to burst. Now you’re sure he knows. “You know, don’t you?”

“The what baby?” He asks innocently, suppressing a smile. You pout and he starts laughing. “I can’t do this anymore!” He comes to you, protectively wrapping his arms around you.

“How did you know?” You ask him, burying your face on his armpit. He smells good so you sniff even closer. ‘It’s kicking in. The weird pregnant things.’

“That’s a secret,” he chuckles. He pulls away from you and you whine, your nose wanting to smell him. “Don’t you want a kiss?” You kiss him then stick your nose back to his armpit. “This is already weird and it’s just the start!”

“Shut up. I was supposed to surprise you.” Your voice is muffled but he hears you clearly. His hand rubs circles on your lower stomach, his lips planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Can we name him Kin?” he blurted out so you snicker at how excited he is. “What? Don’t you think it’s a cute name?”

“We’re not even sure if it’s a boy. Why are you so excited?” You push your upper body up, so you’re looking down on him. A pout forms on his lips, squinting his eyes at you.

“Are you not excited?” He pulls you back down. Your face is pressed on his chest, his hand returning on circling your stomach.

“Of course I am!” You reply to him, hugging him tightly.

1st Trimester

“Are you done yet?” Sakusa yawns, holding your hair for you while you vomit on the toilet. The moon’s still shining yet you’re already in the bathroom throwing up. “Why do they call it morning sickness when you throw up any time of the day?”

“If you’re gonna complain you should not have asked for another child!” You growl at him. He sighs, not wanting to argue. He knows that when he says anything in disagreement, you’ll start crying. Your hormones are playing with not only you, but also him.

You feel less nauseous so you stand straight, panting. He gently pulls your hand, leading you to the sink. He takes your toothbrush and starts brushing your tooth for you. He insists on doing that ever since the first time you experienced morning sickness with him around. He thinks it’s disgusting but it’s the least he can do for you.

“You want to eat something?” He asks as you spit the foam out of your mouth. He wets his hand and wipes the foam on that got stuck on your chin.

“Are you really asking me that after brushing my teeth?” You complain as he wipes your mouth with a dry towel.

“I don’t want you to go to bed with an empty stomach,” he reasons, fixing your hair. You hum, thinking about his question. So far, you have not been having weird cravings yet, which Sakusa thanks for because he won’t feed you disgusting combos of food.

“Just ice cream,” you finally answer, and he nods. The two of you go to the kitchen quietly, not wanting to wake Kia up. You take a seat at the dining table while Sakusa scoops an ice cream for you. As he hands it to you, the soy sauce bottle catches your eye. Something inside you tells you that you want it, so you point at it, but he doesn’t get it. “Soy sauce.”

“No,” he tells you in disgust. You feel yourself tearing up and Sakusa immediately grabs the bottle and hands it to you. You clap in excitement, pouring a good amount of soy sauce on your ice cream. Looking at you makes him want to vomit but at the same time the smile on your face warms his heart. ‘7 more months.’

2nd Trimester

You and Kia wait for Sakusa outside the gym. You are scheduled for your 18th week ultrasound today, and Sakusa insisted on going with you. You’re finally gonna find out about your child’s gender and he doesn’t want to miss any ultrasounds. He wants to make sure you and your child is healthy and in great shape.

“Are you excited to spend some time with Mu-chan?” You ask Kia and she excitedly squeals. Kiyoomi decided not to bring Kia at the appointment with you so you can surprise her at her birthday which is in a week.

You see his teammates come out, and Kia greets them one by one. Sakusa and Atsumu finally arrive, so you and Sakusa head out, parting ways with Kia. Before you leave Kia, Sakusa threatened Atsumu that if something happened to his daughter, he’ll drag his body around the court during practice.

“What do you our baby will be?” Sakusa asks you, intertwining his fingers with yours. He plants a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes on the road.

“To be honest, I feel like it’s a girl,” you answer.

“You know what that means,” he teases and you let go of his hand. “What? You said we’ll not stop trying for a son.”

You stay silent, the smile on his face halting your anger. You can tell he’s excited and it’s hyping you up, too. It feels like you’re through your first pregnancy again. You arrive at the hospital and you walk to the clinic hand in hand.

A nurse greets you and heads you inside the clinic where the OB is waiting for you. She gives you a hospital dress and you change into it. You lie down the reclining chair. The doctors splatters gel over your lower abdomen, the coldness of the fluid making you giggle. Sakusa is standing beside the chair, his fingers playing with your scalp.

“Oh... you see that? Your baby is a...”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Happy birthday, Kia!” Everyone cheers after singing for her. Kiyoomi lifts her, then blows the candles of the cake with her. It’s her first birthday with her father.

“Before we start eating, we want to tell Kia what her sibling’s gender is,” Kiyoomi announces. He takes a box where either a girl’s clothes or boy’s is in. Kia excitedly rips the box open, gasping at the item inside the box. She lifts the dress up, showing it to everyone.

“A baby sister!”

Third trimester

“Kiyoomi!” You scream, your voice echoing through the whole house. He rushes to you and sees the liquid dripping down your legs.

“Shit! Shit! The baby is coming! The baby is coming!” He panics. He calls your midwife, notifying her about your condition. He runs out of your shared room and heads to Kia who is scribbling in the living room. “Kia, your sister is coming. You know what to do.”

Kia immediately takes her phone out of the drawer, prepared on what to do. She and Kiyoomi has been practicing for weeks for your birth. They panicking but prepared. Kia calls her grandparents first, telling them you’re finally giving birth. Next, she calls Akaashi and Kenma. Then, she goes to you, helping you calm down by holding your hand. She’s telling you bedtime stories and rubbing circles on your stomach from time to time.

While Kia is comforting you in your room, Kiyoomi’s in his bathroom, running a bath for you. You have opted for water birth at your home, which Kiyoomi had convinced you to do since it was said to be less painful than normal birth.

Your pregnancy have been nothing but smooth thanks to Kiyoomi. He never complained about your mood swings or 3AM cravings. He went to every appointment with you despite his busy schedule as a pro-athlete. He and Kia were there all through-out and you couldn’t be more thankful.

Minutes later, your midwife arrives, helping Sakusa transfer you to the tub. You take your dress and panty off, then wear a comfortable sports bra. They guide you into the tub, making sure you don’t slip and fall.

Kia waits on the bed, just like how she was trained to. She wants to go to you and hold you because she know you’re in pain, but she’s afraid that she’s going to be a nuisance to your delivery.

“Omi, can Kia go in the room?” You request in between pants, the contractions getting even stronger. He nods and calls her in. She slowly goes to you, sad that you are crying because of hurt. She caresses your sweaty forehead, then plants a kiss on it.

“You can do it, mama,” she cheers you up, grinning at you. She’s trying her best to calm you down and it magically lessens the pain. You hold onto her tiny hand, Kiyoomi standing by your side the whole time.

3 hours later, you hear voices from outside of the bathroom. You take a glance at the doorway and see your best friends waving at you. You manage to let out a smile, your weak hands waving at them. The Sakusas have also arrived, not wanting to miss the opportunity to see the new family member. You hear Akaashi’s parents voice, and it soothe you.

“Do you want me to join you in the water?” Kiyoomi asks, brushing your hair off your forehead, his other hand has been holding you for hours now. You nod eagerly, letting go his hand. He takes his shirt off and gets in the tub with you. He positions himself behind you, his legs on your sides. You lean your back on his chest, your skin contacting with him. He intertwines your hands again, placing it over your bulging stomach.

Kia enters the room with Akaashi and Kenma, a drink in her hand. She holds it out you with both of her hands. “It’s your favorite juice mama. Drink.” You take a sip from the straw, the drink hydrating you. Then she holds it out too, Kiyoomi. “You too, papa. You’re working hard, too.”

“You’re working the hardest, Kia,” Kiyoomi tells her, patting her head. You can’t speak now, but you definitely agree. Kia is just a child, but she’s trying her best to understand what’s going on. She’s comforting you as she knows you’re in pain. She’s helping Kiyoomi in handling the matters just like how she promised him. She’s working so hard for you, Kiyoomi, and her soon to be born little sister and it’s all paying off.

After a few more hours, you see your baby’s head. Your midwife tells you push, so you do. But it’s painful, it hurts so much. You stop pushing, crying hard due to too much pain.

“Baby, you can do it,” Kiyoomi whispers into your ear, holding your hand tightly. He kisses the top of your head, wanting to take the pain you’re feeling. If he could, he would definitely transfer the pain you’re feeling to himself. But he can’t so he’ll try his best to soothe you. “Look. Our baby’s almost out. Don’t stop pushing...” You gain motivation from his words and with one last push, your baby girl’s finally out.

The midwife catches your child quickly, then brings it on your chest. Kiyoomi’s arms wraps around your stomach, looking down at your child that is on top of you. The midwife gives him a pair of umbilical scissors. He gets to cut the umbilical cord for the first time ever. It’s something has been looking forward to. He tears up as his cuts the cord.

“Omi... she’s finally here,” you cry, hugging your newborn.

“Yes, she is. And it’s all because you did a great job.” He kisses the top of your head again, his hand softly landing on the back of your child. His hand is wider than her back it’s scaring him that she’ll hurt him.

“What are you going to name her?” The midwife asks the two of you. You stare at your child, waiting for Kiyoomi to answer.

“Mina. Sakusa Mina.”

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Kia finally wakes up from her nap, missing the rest of delivery. She quickly gets up, her blankie still in her hand. “Is my sister here?” She asks Kenma and Keiji who are in the living room. They nod at her with a smile.

They lead her to Kiyoomi’s bedroom where you are sleeping in. Mina is on the crib beside your bed, also sleeping. Kiyoomi sees Kia enter so he gently wakes you up. You had told him that you didn’t want to miss Kia and Mina’s first meeting. “Kia’s here.”

“Kia, come here,” you pat on the space beside you. She slowly climbs up the bed, not wanting to hurt you.

“Where’s the baby?” She asks you softly. You look at Kiyoomi and signal him to take Mina out of the crib. You put a support pillow on Kia’s lap, your daughter nervous and excited to meet her new sibling.

“Mina... your big sister is here,” Kiyoomi coos at the newborn as he lifts her out of the crib. Mina squirms, waking up. He puts her down on the support in Kia’s lap.

“Kia, it’s your little sister. Mina,” you tell Kia, softly petting the side of her head. Kia stares at the baby on her lap. The first thing she does surprises you and Kiyoomi. She places her blanket over her little sister, then softly cups Mina’s small cheeks. Kia places a gentle but tender kiss on her forehead. She starts crying, and so do you and Kiyoomi.

“Hi, Mina. I’m your Kia-neechan.”

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Facts:

Newborns has been hearing sounds since way back in the womb. Mother's heartbeat, the gurgles of her digestive system, and even the sounds of her voice and the voices of other family members are part of a baby's world before birth

Water birth might help you relax and help you feel more in control. Floating in water helps you move around more easily than in bed, too. Some science suggests that the water may lower chances of severe vaginal tearing.

Only 5% of babies are born on their due date. 50% are born within a week of the due date. 90% are born within 2 weeks of the due date.

The most popular day for babies to be born is Tuesday, followed closely by Monday

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 3 years

Text

Big, Ugly SOB

Warning: typical Walking Dead themes, smut, probably other stuff, be advised.

SHANE BABIES! THIS ONE”S FOR YOU! Slow burn, angsty, love, smut, it’s all here gals! Please like, reblog, and comment! I’d love to hear from all of you!

Part One!

She grabs her pistol and heads out the door of the small shed and does a perimeter sweep before shutting the door. With a deep breath, she starts towards the high ridge. Heaving a sigh, she turns around and writes a note for anyone who may find her.

‘Headed to the ridge. Higher vantage point. Curious about Atlanta but not sure I’ll go.

If you need supplies there’s a day’s worth of jerky and some supplies in here.

Best of Luck’

She truly hoped that she’d find someone she knew. As a patrol officer of King County, she hadn’t run into a single other officer that she knew. Though, she didn’t take the main roads, as she knew the cost.

Hiking up the ridge through the woods, she hears soft talking and the voice strikes her deep in her soul. She knows that voice. The deep southern voice talking low just out of eyesight.

“Excuse me? I don’t mean to alarm you but I’m just looking to join a group--You are one big, ugly, dumb son-of-a-bitch.” There was the owner of the voice. Snorting, she quickly covers her mouth as she sinks to the ground cackling under her hands. Shane’s eyes glance to the old man next to him and back to her as she sits on the ground staring at him with a look of wonder as tears roll down her face.

“Officer Duke?” He hushes as a grin sweeps across his face. Pushing passed the old man, he grabs her hands and pulls her to her feet.

“It’s Lottie. C’mon Walsh.” She chuckles, reaching out and pulling him into a warm embrace.

“It’s Shane, silly gal. I can’t believe it. Look at you. Ugly and big, yes baby girl that’s me.” He croons, holding her arms out wide to look her over. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he turns to the old man and waves him over. “This is Lottie. She was one of the Sheriff’s Deputies like me. Lottie, this is Dale. Dale, Charlotte. C’mon Duke, this way.” He crows, hooking arms with her and dragging her along. As they break into a small clearing, she finds aa small group of people, including Lori and Carl.

“Hey, where’s Rick?” She asks, looking to Shane. His face sombers and he waves her to him.

“He’s gone.” He whispers, looking at Lori with a longing she could only describe as a silent plea of a lover. With a single blink the look is vanished from his face and he pats Lottie on the head. “Come say hi.”

“Lori, Carl, you two look so tired.” She coos as Lori’s face lights up. A blonde across the way eyes her with a disapproving look, but a younger blonde bounds up to Lottie with a grin and a hand shoved out to greet her.

“Hi, I’m Amy. The crabby one is my sister Andrea. That’s Carol and Sophia, Ed’s away in the tent. He’s not much fun. That one is Daryl, he’s a loner. And that’s T-Dog.” In order, Lottie’s eyes meet every face she’s introduced to, and most stick out a hand. Except for the crossbow weilding man, Daryl, she nods confidently to herself.

“I’m Lottie.” She waves, ducking over to Shane and hides behind him.

“Darlin’ I’m gonna head over here and get some water. Find yerself somethin’ to eat and get comfy. You can share my tent. Go get situated. Lori’ll get you acquainted around.” He waves Lori over and Lottie watches the exchange with wide eyes as Shane’s drink in Rick’s wife.

“Thanks Walsh.” She smiles awkwardly before disappearing into Shane’s tent. Spending her first day in the tent with Walsh, she puts her bags in the corner and rolls out her makeshift blanket, made of a couple sweatshirts and tee shirts she had found. Shane steps into the tent and sees her sitting in the corner and his eyes drift to the less than adequate bedding and he frowns.

“Hey, tell you what. I’ll take first shift on watch tonight and you can sleep in my sleeping bag, on the foam pad. It’s better than the rocky ground, Duke.” He holds up a hand to silence her and she feels her face heat up.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t do that--”

“I wasn’t asking. I’m telling you. I’m on watch first tonight, so you have to keep my sleeping bag warm. If not, I’ll--”

“Have Lori do it?” She whispers, and sees it strike a nerve on Shane’s face.

“You shut your mouth about that. Okay? Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on.” He barks, jamming a sturdy finger into her chest plate.

“Sure. I’d be that mad if there was nothing going on too. Rick’s dead, Walsh. Ain’t no shame in keepin’ his wife and son safe. You done good so far.” She assures, laying on her blanket and curling up against her bag.

“Hey baby girl. I said-” he leans down and hoists her up, putting her on his sleeping bag. “-to use this damn thing.” He croons, giving her head a soft pat before taking his gun and stepping out of the tent.

Morning comes and she slips from Shane’s tent and out into the daylight. For only a second, it almost felt like the summer you went camping with the boys on the lake three years ago. Carl was too little so Lori had stayed home and it had just been Lottie, Rick, Shane, and Leon Basset, another man she hadn’t seen since the world ended.

“Mornin’ babygirl.” He croons, patting her shoulder as she walks up to the group of people sitting in chairs in a circle, finding a seat next to her and Lori.

“Mornin’ ugly.” She groans, pushing his hand up her shoulder to her neck where the kink is. Softly, he rubs the knot from her neck without a word.

“Darlin’ get you somethin’ to eat. Lori, can you grab her a plate?” He croons, patting Lori’s knee. She gives Lottie a half-assed mad look before rising and grabbing a plate with eggs and toast. Placing it into Lottie’s lap, cshe huffs under her breath, mumbling something.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lottie asks, looking at Lori.

“Not a damn thing.” She barks, giving Shane a dark look before heading into her own tent a little ways away.

“Yo, Duke. Over here. You take watch up top, I’ll be out and about. You see walkers, more than two, you give me or Daryl a heads up. Okay? And if you see more than that, give us more than a heads up. Okay?” He briefs her like they’re back on the force before leading her up to the look out atop the RV.

“Okay, I’ll holler if I see a bunch. Is someone supposed to take over for me later?” She asks as Shane hands over the binoculars.

“Yeah, couple hours Daryl will be up. Glenn and a few others went on a raid this morning, so when they get back they’ll do a round of watch. When your watch is over come find me.” He disappears down the ladder and she watches through Shane’s binoculars as Shane himself and Lori slip away into the woods out of the line of sight.

Once they reappear, Lori’s clothes are disheveled and Shane’s licking his lips with a prideful smirk on his full lips. Sucking in a breath, Lottie watches a moment longer as Shane takes a moment to tuck his shirt back in and lick his lips once more. Reaching up, his fingers sift through his jet black, fluffy curls and gives Lori--what he thought was-- a sneaky wink. Lottie watches the horizon and sees a white refrigerator truck barreling towards their camp and a red Charger wailing through the quarry, echoing off the walls. First the car comes to a stop and Shane charges them, yanking the relay out that belongs to the horn. Glenn steps out, jittery with excitement.

“You guys, this new guy absolutely saved our asses.”

“Glenn this group is big enough. Quit taking in strays.” Shane hushes.

“But your girlfriend isn’t one? Sorry, listen man. This guy was awesome, some kind of police uniform, not sure. One second,” the small Asian man sprints to the truck and when the binoculars land on the driver, she nearly falls off the RV.

“Holy shit.” She whispers, losing her footing a second time and tumbling over the edge. As she lands on the ground next to Dale, Shane’s eyes drop to her and he lands in the dirt next to her.

“Damn darlin’. New guy that hot?” He chuckles, helping her to her feet and dusting her off. With a quick once over, he finds nothing broken or busted, so he proceeds out to greet the new guy but stops dead in his tracks. Rick. Holy shit.

“Lori? Carl!” He shouts, falling to his knees as he hugs his family. Her eyes land on Shane in utter shock and he just releases the breath he’d been holding. “Duke. Shane.” He drags the two officers into a warm hug and she and Shane reciprocate.

As night falls, she steps into the tent with Shane’s sleeping form and carefully steps over him. Laying down on her blanket, she hears some rustling around behind them, but she goes to sleep. Rolling over, she finds an empty space where Shane was. More rustling. A groan. In her groggy sleep, she ignores the sounds outside and grabs Shane’s pillow.

“Shane?” She asks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Standing and stepping out the tent, she stretches backwards and is grabbed from behind. “Walsh, knock it off-oh shit.” She gives a whine and tries to run away. The walker tries to bite at her ankles, grabbing her pant legs. “Shane! Shane!” She screams , grabbing for anything on the ground to stab the ugly monster, but she grabs for the only thing near her. A stick. Kicking with her foot and knocking the diseased thing off her, she stabs a stick through his leg. Skittering to her feet she backs into something behind her. Another walker grabs her and she shrieks, this time Shane twists around and fires a rifle into her shoulder, killing the walker. He grabs her up and hoists her over a shoulder.

“Did it bite you? Baby girl?” His shouts become foggy and distant as she floats into unconsciousness. “No! C’mon darlin’. Rick! Rick come over here! Someone please!” His desperate cries echo through the camp as Carol grabs Lottie and carries her to the RV.

“Check for bites first.” Dale barks, jabbing at Lottie with the barrel of his gun.

Early morning rises and she whispers to Shane, who’s sitting next to her, his hand on her arm and head on his arms.

“Shane, Walsh.” He jerks awake and stands erect.

“Mornin’.” He whispers, starting for the door.

“Where you going?” She asks, giving him a soft smile.

“I was just checking on you. I gotta tell the others you’re awake.” He gruffs, heading back to the door.

“Shane.” He stops again, searching her face for something. He walks back to her and leans down, taking her hand into his. “I saw you sleeping.” She whispers, gripping his hand.

“Ya, so I fell asleep there. What of it?” He barks, shifting from foot to foot.

“You were worried, weren’t you?” She coos, smirking at him.

“No. I knew you’d be fine.” He assures, patting her hand.

“Really? That doesn’t really seem accurate, Walsh.”

“Leave it alone.” He grumbles, thumping lightly down the stairs and out the door.

A few hours later, she hears a couple soft female voices talking about her. “…..she’s just lucky Shane’s got a raging hard on for her…”

“.….she hasn’t lifted a finger here yet…”

“.…got attacked and Walsh left the group to save her. Such bullshit…”

“Amy probably wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for that girl..-”

She steps out of the RV, groaning in pain with every step. Shane rushes her, reaching out to take her elbow, only to be shoved away weakly.

“Babygirl--”

“No Walsh. No more. I can’t deal with this. These bitches over here, whom I can hear claerly in there by the way! Won’t quit bitching about what I haven’t done. So I’ll just be over here.” She barks, pushing Shane away again. He huffs, watching from afar as she staggers over to the bench and grabs the legs of a walker. Grunting, tears running down her face, she sees Glenn grab the shoulders, but when his eyes meet hers he drops it immediately.

“Hey, maybe you should just sit down--”

“No. I’m gonna help. Grab the other goddamn end and lift. With your knees. Jesus christ.” She hoists the body up and carries it across the field. As they sit the body on the ground, her arms quaking, she drops the feet and crumbles to the dirt beneath her.

“Goddamn it.” Shane skids to her side, dust clouding around them as his hands grab her arms. “I just want you to relax. C’mon babygirl. Let me help you--”

“Get away! I can do it on my own!” She screams, shoving him away. “Just please, leave me here, Shane.” She shoves him once more and rises to his feet, heading over to Carol, Andrea, and the hispanic woman.

“You guys better keep your traps shut. She was shot and she was injured, and here you are, not doin’ a goddamn thing, bitchin’ about an injured officer who can’t lift anything. Kettle callin’ the pot black shit now, isn’t it? Leave her out of this shit.”

The next morning the group gets up and ready to leave, Shane leading her to his Jeep.

“Darlin’ get in.” He buckles her seat belt without a second thought.

“Quit treating me like your girlfriend, Walsh.” She mutters, pushing on his shoulder.

“I’m not.” He nips, grabbing her arm and throwing it away from him.

“Oh really? Were you gonna go around and buckle in every woman out there?” She barks back, raising a brow at him.

“Well no--I’m just--”

“You just suddenlt have this urge to keep me safe from harm? Like my goddamn boyfriend? You’re not Walsh, okay? So just quit. I can do for myself.” She drives, letting him head out behind everyone else.

“Okay, babygirl. I’m sorry. It’s just--when I thought Rick was dead, it hurt. Right? A-a-a-and when I saw you come through that brush like an angel, I just-hell, you almost had my ugly ass crying. I was just happy to see you.” He makes conversation while he’s driving. They get to the highway and slow to a crawl. The motorhome stops up ahead and all the others in the group get out to inspect.

As they ravage the hundreds of cars, like time stopped, they find lots of useful things.

“Bet ya’ll ain’t never wanted water so bad.” Shane chuckles, popping the cap on a waterjug and soaking himself. She watches on, laughing to herself as Shane bathes in it. His eyes land on her, grabbing her arms and pulling her to the truck, popping another cap and gently pulling the rag she’d tied up her hair with and shook her curls under the water. “Ooh! Babygirl, you look so good with those wet curly locks!” He cheers, giving her a sopping wet hug.

“Walkers!” The screech is enough to freeze her in her tracks.

“Everybody under the cars.” Rick’s gentle voice carries and Shane grabs her hand, pulling her under a box truck.

“Walsh, look. I can lead them away--”

“Ssh. Shut up. Do you remember that shoot out with me, Rick, and you? And you said that we wouldn’t make it out, and what did ol’ Shane do?” He asks, patting her arm. They lay on the hot concrete under a box truck, the various sharp stones digging into her knees and arm.

“You got us out.”

“And you didn’t think I could did ya? But I did, babygirl. So trust me again. C’mon, darlin’. You just roll your front against my back as tight as you can, okay? We’ll make it again. Trust me. Now ssh. I see a bunch a’ feet movin’. Don’t make a goddamn sound, babygirl.” He whispers, breathing out as he feels her huddle as tight as she can against his back. “I got ya baby. I got ya.” He coos almost as a breath, trying to be silent. “Lemme have your hand.” He whispers, her hand snaking over his ribs and grabs his open hand, squeezing. “Take a deep breath, let it out slow. Show time.” Her mouth bites into his shoulder, he shivers and squeezes her hand tighter. One of her legs slips over his and she’s almost melded into him as one person.

When the horde finally works through, Shane looks over his shoulder to find her asleep against him. Gently shaking her, as she awakes, and looks confused. For a moment, she looks like a glorious sunny day sitting by the lake under a shade tree after a long nap under the summer sun.

“You look like you had a good nap.” He chuckles, rolling to face her, still on the ground and their noses almost touch. “Wow, last time we were this close you remember what we were doing?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, pushing awkwardly at his shoulders. “I think it was some stupid party and we were playing seven minutes in heaven.”

“Yeah, and I got to second base with Haley Duvall that day. You were a prude though. You shut down so fast, even when I tried to score.” He chuckles, leaning dangerously close to press his dry lips gently to her cheek.

“I did, Walsh. Then we went from cops to surviving this ugly ass world now.” She crows, hearing a blood curdling scream. It draws them both from this happy cocoon they were in, and she scrambles from under the truck.

“Hey, also?” He leans so close his voice is but a whisper of hot air over her neck. “Don’t ever bite my shoulder like that again unless you plan to finish what you start.”

“Shane I--” He gives her a dark smirk and a wink, making her body tingle.

“What was that?” He asks as he gaits over to the group.

“It was Sophia. She ran off, Shane. Rick went after her.” He grumbles, grabbing Lottie’s hand and heads for the woods.

“We gotta find that kid.” He states as they slip into the woods.

#Shane Walsh #shanewalsh #Shane Walsh x reader #the walking dead #walking dead #jon bernthal #jon bernthal is too goddamn good at acting.#jesus christ shane #shane walsh angst #shane walsh slowburn

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jaycewrites-192000 · 3 years

Text

Growl: Chapter 8

Warnings: None

Tag List: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen

Your P.O.V

For once, I was actually looking forwards to going to school. Thanks to Kyotani, I've become steadily more confident in my academic skills. It's not a huge step forwards, but, a step forwards none the less. My grades have been getting better as well, which was just a added bonus to my already great mood. I would have to really consider how I'm going to thank him for all his hard work. Maybe I'll take him out to eat somewhere he likes? Or maybe take him and Killer to a dog park? Or we could go to that new guitar shop that just opened up a well ago, he does play bass after all, maybe he'd want to check out what they had.

"Maybe he can teach me how to play too." I chuckle. Geez, this all was starting to sound like I wanna ask him out in a date. It's not totally untrue. I would like to ask him out but, there's no way I could actually go through with it. I don't even think he likes me like that. "Man...this sucks. Why can't I just-" My words were cut short when I suddenly bumped into someone. "Oh! I'm sorry!" I quickly apologized. The person I ran into turned to face me, oh....great. "Uh, hey there...you?" I say awkwardly. "You? Really?" The person of, girl, I ran into was an old "enemy" of mine. "I think I've made myself known to you the last time we met." She spat as she placed her hand on her hip.

This was Chiharu Kumiko, also known as, "Oikawa's number one fangirl". She's hated me since the day I became friends with him, always thought we were dating or I had a crush on him. Which was the furthest thing from the true, and yet, she still had it out for me. "Yeah you did. Now if you don't mind, I need to get to class." I say as I try and walk past her. "Sure, "get to class". So you can hoe around with Oikawa-Senpai?" Ignore her, Y/n, ignore her. She's just trying to start a fight, a fight I will finish if she keeps pissing me off. "Bitch I know you hear me!" Kumiko grabs onto my arm and jerks me back. "Let go!" I snap at her, yanking my arm away. The commotion we were causing seem to attract a small group of people. Great, just what I wanted. Kumiko raised her hand to strike me, but before she got the chance, someone grabbed her hand. We both look back at the person who stopped her. "Kyotani?"

"What do you think you're doing?" I could tell Kyotani was furious. His voice was intimidating and his eyes narrowed. I was surprised he wasn't crushing Kumiko's hand right now, he was defiantly holding back. "The hell!? Let go of me you freak!" Kumiko jerks her hand away from Kyotani. Before she left, she turned to me, glaring daggers. "This isn't over, skank." With that, she storms off. I roll my eyes, my attention now back at the crowd, I hid my face in embarrassment. Thanks a lot Kumiko, you attention seeking bitch. "Problem!?" Kyotani snaps at them. The crowd eventually dispersed and continued on their own ways.

"Are you ok? Did she hurt you?" Kyotani asked. I shake my head, a smile retuning to my face. "Thank you Kyotani." I say gratefully. "What's that girl's problem?" He asks. "She has a thing for Oikawa and she thinks I do too."

"Do you?" That question kinda took me by surprise. I didn't know Kyotani would be interested in stuff like that. "No. He's annoying." That made him chuckle. 'Cute...oh right' I suddenly remembered, I still have to thank him. "Um, Kyotani. I wanted to thank you for helping me study. My grades have been getting better because of your help! So, I was thinking...maybe I could take you somewhere as a thank you. If you want to, that is."

"O-oh...sure you can if you want." Kyotani murmurs. "Really? Cool! Let's meet up after school ok?" Kyotani nods, I wave him goodbye before hurrying to class.

Your P.O.V.

I waited at the school gate for Kyotani, and I just could help but smile like an idiot the entire time. How could I not? I sorta, kinda, maybe just asked my crush out on a date, and he said yes! Now I just have to manage not to mess it up. "Just don't act like a creep. Shouldn't be too hard." I say to no one other than myself. "A creep would talk to themselves though, so I should probably stop." I sigh. I might have been ecstatic about Kyotani and I having a day to ourselves, but I was also super nervous. This would be my first "date" with a boy.

What am I suppose to do? What am I suppose to say? Maybe I should have a waited to go home and change, maybe do something with my hair. I shook my head, reminding myself that this is not a date. I'm just thanking him for helping me study. That's all. I can call it a date for when I actually gain the nerve to ask him out. "Hey." I gasp at the sudden voice. I turned to see Kyotani approaching. "Hi." I wave. "You ready to go?" He nods and walks beside me. "Um, so I was thinking." I began. "Maybe we stop by the new music store and then after we can grab a bite to eat? Anywhere you like."

"Sounds good." Kyotani simply says. The two of us made our way into town, talking the whole way to the music store. It looked like one of the newer ones in town, it has that new shine to everything. As we walked inside, I immediately felt out of place. Everyone inside the store was clearly a professional, and I knew absolutely nothing about instruments. But I had to admit, everything in the store looked amazing. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to pick up a music lesson, maybe I'll try the (favorite instrument). "See anything you like?" I asked Kyotani. I could tell he was already invested in the different basses they had. His eyes were glued onto the different colored, slick shinning stringed instruments. "Hmm...I don't really need a new bass. Maybe replace the strings on mine." I walk over to the basses to join him in browsing, when I came across something. Stickers. I pick a few and look them over, there wasn't really any that stuck out in particular, until I found one that couldn't be ignored.

"Oh! Kyotani, look at this!" I showed him a sticker of a Shiba Inu, it was growling and there was some foam in the corners of it's mouth, and a firey background behind the dog, yet it still had that cute appeal to it. I saw Kyotani's eyes light up. "It looks like Killer." He says as I give it to him. "Right? I figured you'd want to put it on your bass." I tell him. He looked over the sticker a few more seconds before nodding. "Yeah. I will." I smile brightly and reach into my school bag. I pulled out my wallet and counted out the right amount to pay for the sticker. "What are you doing?" Kyotani asks. "Buying it. You like it right?"

"I can't let you pay for it." I shake my head. "I don't mind. Besides, I'm treating you today, remember?" I take the sticker and approach the counter. "Just this for today." I tell the cashier man as I slide the money and sticker on the counter. He nods and rings up the sticker before handing it back to me. I turn back to Kyotani and hand him the sticker. "There you go. Now let's go eat, I'm starving." I subconsciously grab his hand and lead him out of the store.

Third P.O.V

Unknowing to Y/n, Kyotani felt his heart flutter and his cheeks warm. He felt like he had made a really good choice befriending her. Kyotani smiled slightly and wrapped his fingers around her hand. "Yeah, me too."

The two teens made their way to a small restaurant, Kyotani had suggested it, told Y/n that it was his favorite place to go. Curious about the place, Y/n was excited to go as well. The waitress lead them to their table and set menus in front of them .They both ordered and and the waitress held up a pen and notepad. "And would the lady and gentleman like the couple's special? 10% off your order and free desert." The waitress asks. 'Wow, that's one hell of a deal.' Y/n thought to herself. "We're not-" She cut Kyotani. "Gonna refuse that! Thank you so much." She clasps her hands together. Kyotani gives her a surprised look. "Lovely! I'll have that right out!" She took the menus and walked away. "....Y/n?"

"I didn't have that much money and it was a good deal, you have to admit...sorry..." Y/n mutters, looking down at the table. "N-no it's fine just...it was shocking." Kyotani says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah..." Y/n clears her throat awkwardly. "I mean, seriously who would willing admit they're in a relationship with me?" Y/n blinks a few times, did she hear him correctly. She looks up across the table at him. "What do you mean?" She asks.

"Well, I don't get asked out a lot, if you can imagine." Y/n leans her head on her hand. "Really? You'd think girls would love a 'bad boy' like you." She giggles. "But really, you're not that bad Kyotani. People just has to get to know you." Kyotani shrugs. "I just didn't mind it as much before..." He trails off. "Before what?" Y/n asks. "Nothing. Forget it."

Y/n raised an eyebrow then leans back in her seat. 'Ever the secretive type.' She thought with a sigh. "Well, I think you're just fine the way you are. If others can't or won't take the time to actually know you, then that's their loss." She tells him. Once again, Kyotani felt his heart skip a beat. This was getting dangerous. Kyotani hadn't felt something like this, he never had crushes before. But this, it felt like more than just a crush. He hated the thought, but he could possibly love Y/n. Why he hated it was simple. Kyotani wasn't just 'not a ladies man', he wasn't a anyone's man. All his life he had better things to focus on, like volleyball, rather than stupid crushes and relationships that wouldn't last more than a year and a half.

So that's why this was so scary. Kyotani really really liked Y/n, but he couldn't stand the thought of giving up something he loved because of his bad habbits. Wether that something was volleyball, or even Y/n. She wasn't to blame. It was him. Kyotani wasn't the best of people. If he hurt her, in anyway, he would never forgive himself. So, it would be best, if Kyotani ignored these new feelings. For the better, for himself, and for Y/n.

The two were walking home together that night. Kyotani made sure Y/n got to her home saefly before saying goodbye. "Thank's for treating me today, even though you didn't have to." Kyotani tells her. "Aw, it was nothing." Y/n waved it off. "That's what senpai's are for right?" She winks. Kyotani gulped and nods his eyes. "Y-yeah. Anyway, see you later. Thanks again." He turned to leave. "Kyotani, hang on!" Kyotani was about to turn around to ask Y/n what she stopped him for, when suddenly she hugged him tightly. Kyotani's face turned a light shade of red as he felt her arms wrap tightly arounf his waist. Slowly, he raised his arms to hug her bag, but before he could she quickly let go and rushed to her door. "Goodnight!" She squeaks out before hurrying inside her home. Kyotani was left there alone, eyes wide with shock. His agaped mouth closed, and his arms dropped to his sides.

"...Damn it."

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#kyotani kentaro #kyotani kentaro x reader #haikyuu kyoutani #haikyuu!!#mad dog #haikyū!!#haikyuu kyotani kentaro #haikyuu mad dog #mad dog chan

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thecaptainhelm · 3 years

Text

Every Tap of My Heart

Here’s a valentine’s gift for @savagenutella46, whose a lovely person! Here’s my gift of writer love for a fellow maribat enthusiast, hope you have a wonderful day fit for a wonderful person. xoxo uwu [insert heart heart winky face heart eyes rose]

Thanks to the moderator @eat0crow for setting this up so nicely, ily all!

In a small office, one of the many in the college of liberal arts building, two people sat across from one another in an awkward manner. One, a rather tall, tan, and robust young man with a relaxed and loose posture, and the other, a much smaller brown, older gentleman, salt and peppered hair and frown lines around his mouth.

“Mr. Wetherby,” the young man said in greeting.

“Jonathan.” Mr. Wetherby deadpanned in return. There was a slight pause between the two before the older gentleman spoke again.

“Well, how are you progressing with your midterm project Jonathan? You were well ahead of your peers the last I observed. I trust you have maintained this pace?”

Jon grinned at this, rather than being intimidated by the scholarly demeanor of his professor. Many of his classmates were intimidated by Mr. Wetherby if not for his surprisingly deep voice, then for the juxtaposition of his gentle appearance and his strict teaching. He had only ever felt amused.

“Yes sir, everything is going well. I’ve already checked the business’s schedule and set a meeting with the owner to have a short interview. Everything is totally in order.”

Mr. Wetherby stoically gazed at Jon’s silly grin as they conversed and didn’t say anymore. He simply nodded, typed a few phrases in the computer and turned the screen to Jon.

“Very good. With this the meeting is complete and you’ve received full marks for the student-teacher progress report. Have a nice day, Jonathan.”

“Right sir, thank you sir, you too sir,” Jon smiled, bright and goofy, unmoving from his seat.

Mr. Wetherby gained a slight tick near his temple.

“Mr. Kent.” The young man blinked, tilting his head with a look comparable to a puppy dog.

“Yes, Mr. Wetherby?”

“You may leave now,” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Have. A good. Day.”

“Right sir, of course sir!” Jon bounced up and carelessly packed his things away. “Have a good day sir!” He energetically left the room and before the remaining occupant could so much as sigh, Jon popped back in, dark hair flopping into his eyes.

“Oh yeah, are we still on for patrol or are you going to call in--”

“Beat it, Corncob!”

“Hahaha!” Jon cackled and dashed away to complete his assignment. Anyone who saw him would do a double take. It seemed as though he was gliding on air, though he wasn’t moving particularly fast. People shrugged and moved about their day, too busy to really care.

Jon Kent was just strange like that.

Sometime later in the evening, the tall and somewhat awkwardly bulky Jon Kent nervously shuffled his way through Metropolis, carefully moving around busy pedestrians and apologizing in a fluster when he didn’t move carefully enough. He knocked into one final person and sheepishly grinned at the irate grunt before arriving at his target location. La Bonne Fée.

The building was sizable, enough space for a backroom, restrooms, a cozy kitchen facility, counter, and booths for people to sit and relax, with enough space left over to not feel compact. The furnishings were all warm, comfortable and the decorations had a slight vintage feel from a bygone era of classy etiquette and manners. Through the door he could clearly hear the music of an old school juke-box, playing a Jagged Stone album.

Jon had come to such a café to ask the owner for an interview for the school financial magazine’s new column dedicated to new and upcoming businesses.

Some would ask if Jon lost his touch, others if he was touched in the head. Why would he interview a brand new café, one not even a part of a chain, when they were practically all over the city selling the same thing as their competitors.

Jon swallowed hard, and knocked on the softwood door. He picked up a jumping pulse and saw though the window a head of dark hair quickly poke out from behind the counter. His palms had become sweaty and his own heart jumped in his chest when soft footsteps quickly paced to the door and was pulled open with a silent, breathless smile.

“Jon, hey!” Marinette Dupain-Cheng looked up at him with bright grey eyes, almost silver under the city lights and his heart really kicked into high gear then, only slightly less embarrassing when he heard her heart doing the same.

“Glad you could make it,” She nervously fixed the hem of her sweater and pulled her apron on straight.

“Me too,” He smiled at her and was fine getting lost on her eyes before she cleared her throat and held the door wider.

“Would you like to, um if you would--?”

“Oh right, yeah, yeah, yes please, um,” Jon gulped and grinned strangely. He walked in with small quick steps through the door, taking extra care to not bump into her and send the smaller woman three inches through the flooring. God, he wouldn’t ever live that down if that actually happened.

“Well, I’ll grab some refreshments while you set everything up. Be back in a bit,” Marinette grinned as she led him to a booth near the front, out of view of the windows and moved to the counter with a stiff gait. He sat, pulling out his notebook, his voice recorder, pencils and two copies of the agreed upon interview questions. He fiddled with the materials, trying to distract himself from Marinette’s sounds, her heartbeat, her slight hitches in breath as she moved, the sound her petite fingers made when rubbing against the foam cups, all to no avail.

Yes, that’s a suspicious amount of attention to a single, pretty young woman in the city, but he couldn’t help it. He pressed down on the indentation of his index finger, reveling in the simultaneous sensations of hearing and feeling her heartbeat in person.

He couldn’t help it because she was his soulmate.

Jon’s soulmate mark was one he had from birth, thought to be a deformity but what was actually a touch based soul mark. Pressing it would allow him to feel the pulse and heartbeat of his soulmate, so long as they were alive in this life. The doctors had actually thought there might be a twin or a second heart while he was in the womb, but an x-ray via Superman showed that he was a lone healthy baby.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a small, triracial young woman, with delicate features, a barely noticeable spread of freckles across a small nose and round grey eyes that turned into happy crescents when she beamed wide and unrestrained. This was all he knew about her, from their brief interactions while they set up the interview, all skin deep and superficial knowledge that he wanted to get past.

This was his soulmate and he knew he shouldn’t rush, but there were so many things that she would have to know about him, things he shouldn��t and couldn’t hide from her, at least not forever, but how was he going to bring up being a superhero? No, wait, how was he going to bring up being half extraterrestrial?! She’d freak!

He tried to relax. He only found out the Marinette was his soulmate when he asked if she would let him interview her and couldn’t help but compare her heart rate to the one on his finger, further panicking when he saw her press her fingertips together in glee and saw the imprint of his finger upon her own. From there he saw that her index finger would snugly fit the imprint on his and he knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his soulmate, that special person the universe found matched perfectly to him in every way that counted. He’d studied and pressed and listened to this heartbeat, wanting to press his head against her back to study and listen in the flesh for years, all before he knew who she was and that she was his and he was hers.

He pressed on it as she walked back to their booth, watching and smiling as she relaxed somewhat, lightly stroking her thumb along her finger as she set the tray of cookies and coffea, the cafe’s specialty fusion drink.

“Sorry for the wait,” She neatly placed the cookies between them after setting down their drinks. He watched the quick and graceful way she tucked the tray into her seat beside her before sending him a dazzling grin that briefly scrambled his brain.

He gaped before managing to stutter out a lame “no trouble” and Marinette merely grinned, cheeks pink. He could dually understand her heart at this time and couldn’t help becoming more flustered. His dumb brain was making him think Marinette had a crush on him, when she was probably just nervous and excited for the interview.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it, nothing more to it at all, he told himself while watching her cheeks darken.

It wasn’t anything more.

“Well, here’s to a good interview?” Marinette nervously giggled as she raised her cup and Jon did the same without a second thought, only realizing his mistake when she saw his soulmark and paled, honing in like a bat out of hell. He tensed trying to think of an excuse or a lie or something to say but he was stuck. Hope clogged his throat and desire pressed down his tongue.

“You have a soulmark?” She asked after a lengthy pause.

“Y-yes, I do.” His voice cracked from bad nerves and excitement.

“I do too. Touch based.” Her eyes pierced through his soul and pinned him on the spot. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

“Cool. Super cool! I have one too, touch based like yours, yep! Cool!” Jon bobbed his head fervently, searching her gaze and found that she seemed to have the same idea as him. Her hand stretched to the middle of the table and waited for him to meet her in the middle. When he reached, slow and steady, it exposed the subtle quaking of his hand, revealing his inner feelings. He was comforted by the fact that her hand was shaking across from him too. It was a relief she felt the same.

Finally, the fingers touched, a small pale finger tapping two knuckles against the back of his. His shoulders tensed, Marinette mirroring him beat for beat as shoulder collapsed in devastation.

If Jon had thought that feeling Marinette’s heartbeat secondhand was an amazing feeling, then all the wonders of the accumulated sensation were nothing compared to this one touch. The pure physical sensation of another being pulsed through him, the echoing din that had been with him unnoticed all this time becoming known as he melted into himself, feeling it destroy him gently and lovingly.

“Wow,” Marinette breathed shakily. “Wow, I’ve, I never thought,”--an incredulous laugh-- “That was…”

She trailed off taking in his enraptured expression.

“Yeah, me too.” He grinned in wonder. His eyes bored into her own, falling deeper into her spell.

They stared at each other before Marinette finally broke the silence.

“Bonsoir.” She extended her other hand, unwilling to break contact.

“Hi.” He firmly grasped it, giving a strong shake. “Jonathan Kent, miss. Pleased to meet you.”

Marinette smiled beatifically. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The pleasure is all mine, Jon.”

The End

#maribatdrabbleexchange #marinette dupain-cheng #jonathan kent #marijon #maribat #marinette x jon

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Text

Kinkmas day three- pegging with ushijima wakatoshi

Ah I'm excited for the next three days the most they are going to be so fun

Also might post these early cause next few days I'm going to be busy with moving

This story contains: pegging, malesub and femdom, lots of praise, begging, use of the word mistress and ma'am

To say that wakatoshi didn't love you was insane, he loved you with every fiber of his being hell he was obsessed with you and wanted a big happy family.

He was quite whipped cause of you and was like a loyal lapdog, outside he was this stoic cold hearted person but you knew who he really was.

"toshi! I got you a gift!"

Your chirpy voice was music to his ears as he rushed to you as you walked into the house, he hated when you left but you promised to always come back so he didn't mind too much.

"welcome back my love, I missed you"

He wouldn't dare touch you without your permission, but he really wanted to hug you. The feeling of your body pressed against his always filled him up with joy, his eyes landed on your hands which held a large black bag

"hmm what's that?"

"glad you asked toshi!"

With that you reached into the bag and took out a box along with a bottle of lube, as you presented the box he could feel his face start to heat

On the box was a picture of thick strap on, one of the biggest he's seen in a while. A shaky breath escaped him as he thought of you using that on him just wrecking him until he's sobbing under you

"will you be using that on me tonight, ma'am?"

"nope! Thought I'd ask tendou if he wanted me to use it on him, he would be an interesting bottom"

Wakatoshi tensed up at your words and felt a numb feeling wafting over him, Tendou? You were going to do what? His mind was so distraught that he didn't even register your joking tone or even your laugh

Before he could even think he had pinned you against the front door now panting heavily as images of you and Tendou filled his mind Tendou touching you, kissing you, fucking you and even you fucking him. He couldn't take such an idea

"no, I won't allow it. You're mine and mine alone I don't share you not now or ever"

Wakatoshi was practially foaming at the mouth with rage as he pressed his large hands on your hips now holding you in place. You have been quiet during this and suddenly reached up gripping the male's face squishing his cheeks together while giving him a nasty glare

"just who the fuck do you think you're talking to like that toshi?"

That's all it took for wakatoshi to revert back to that submissive role, he was on his knees in less than a second now having regret and mercy swirling in his eyes. He had definitely forgotten who he was talking to and how this relationship worked

"I'm sorry ma'am, I was wrong I shouldn't have snapped at you I just-"

"I suppose it's my fault, I shouldn't have made such a joke but the fact that you acted out is just wrong seriously"

Your eyes landed on the box and lube that fell to the ground before a thought popped into your head. You wanted to put him in his place but honestly you didn't want to give it to him easy so you simply turned away giving him the cold shoulder

Wakatoshi tensed before he crawled towards you before grabbing your leg softly feeling as if his entire world was breaking, you ignoring him was something he couldnt handle one bit.

"love? Please. You want to punish me yeah? So please"

Wakatoshi moved his arms to lock them around your waist now nuzzling his face into your back as he kissed along your spine trying to appease you in anyway he could. He needed your attention or else he truly felt like he would die

"please, mistress I'm begging you..just please"

You glanced bwck at the male only to see he had the saddest puppy dog expression you've ever seen, with a long sigh you turned around and ran your fingers through his hair trying to relax him since he seemed to be shaking with absolute worry

"alright toshi, just relax okay? I'm not leaving or anything like that."

You softly moved his arms and picked up the box before giving him a grin which only seemed to peak his interest.

"let's see how fast you get get to the bedroom and strip for me yeah? Giving you give minutes"

Once those words left your mouth the tall male shudders before standing and making his way quickly to the bedroom as you watched with an amused look.

You took this time to open the box and take the strap on out to admire it, you had to hold it with two hands it was just that huge. You made sure to grab the lube as you started to make your way to the room

"toshi! I'm coming!"

You could hear panicked shuffling coming from the room before you got to the door and opened it seeing a sight that made you incredibly wet.

Wakatoshi sat naked on the bed already trying to prep himself for the massive strap-on, having two fingers inside his ass as his cheeks flushed a heavy red and he bit his bottom lip to supress those lustful grunts and groans

"wow, what a good boy toshi. Already knowing exactly what to do huh?"

"i-i want it so bad mistress, I want you so bad so please ma'am please fuck me"

His needy little plea drove you wild and you started to strip down feeling wakatoshi's hungry eyes on you as he pumped his fingers in and out of his ass faster clearly wanting that toy

"alright toshi, what position do you wanna be in?"

You could watch the gears turning into his head as he took his fingers out and simply patted the spot infront of him clearly wanting it in a missionary position as you buckle the strap-on onto you and lathered it with lube you could practically feel wakatoshi's excitement as he watched you with a needy stare

You moved onto the bed infront of him having to get on your knees before you lined the strap-on in now pushing the tip inside you hearing a shaky sigh come from the large male, as you pushed in more and more you heard soft grunts and groans coming from him until the toy was fully inside.

You moved closer to toshi hovering ontop of him before your reached out and placed a hand on his cheek watching as he opened his eyes to look at you before giving a small nod.

As you rocked your hips now starting to move in and out that's when toshi begin to get quite loud, it was no surprise to you since you're used to this but it was always something to loved to watch.

"m-mistress, please go faster. Fuck me harder it's okay I can take it just- ahh~ please"

You did exactly what he wanted now picking up your speed watching as he shuddered and twitched under you before he reached out interlacing your hands together as drool dripped down his chin and his eyes rolled back a little from the under bliss.

"hehe, you look so lewd toshi. Do you like this? You like being fucked like this? "

"i-i love it so much, please don't stop. Mistress I love you. I love you so please make me yours"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his desperate words so as you slammed the strap on in and out of him you let out a shaky sigh as you watched wakatoshi writhe and whine from under you. He was an utter mess and you knew he was close

"I'm going to cum, ma'am please let me cum. I'm allowed to right?"

You reached out stroking his cock as you fucked his inside roughly, as you ordered him to cum you watched at wakatoshi practially teared up from the feeling of pleasure while he climaxed all over your hands and himself.

The sight alone made you have your own climax and you twitched now letting out a low moan before a sigh escaped you, you licked his cum off your hands before pulling out and trying to catch your breath

As you moved to get a towel you felt a grip on your wrist, you looked back to see toshi looking at you with a needy stare, his eyes still glazed with lust as he softly pulled your arm

"what's wrong bab-"

"let's go again, please."

you shuddered at the thought of going again and an amused sigh escaped you as you walked back towards the bed before crawling onto it with a grin

"alright toshi, we'll go as many times as you want"

You really shouldn't have said that cause it seems wakatoshi's plan was to do it with you all night long.

Taglist

@jennasquishy8

#yandere imagines #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagines #wakatoshiushijima #wakatoshi ushijima #kinkmas 2020 #kinkmas

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kodzuken-pie · 4 years

Note

May I request a Daichi fluff where him and his s/o wash their BIG dog together? It’s just a big mess and there’s lots of bubbles and giggles. Thank you so much !💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

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[ A/N : I pictured this so clearly in my mind like 👁👄👁 . . . And so I present this Daichi fluff for y’all ]

Pairing : ts!Daichi x reader

Warning : None

Word count : 1,953k

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- 𝑺𝒐𝒂𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒅𝒔 — — - ✰

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The sunlight filled the room, making it nice and warm. You and Daichi had been lounging on the couch with your Big Alaskan Malamute, Pepper. He had his arms around you while pepper rested his head on your lap, making you trapped between the two. Daichi had the day off and so you both decided to stay home and spend the day being lazy, binging shows and cuddling on the couch. You had closed your eyes as you wanted to savor the moment then you had an idea.

“Hey,babe?” You looked up at Daichi who had his eyes glued to the screen.

“Hm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the screen.

“Let's give pepper a bath.” You said softly, poking his chest.

Both Daichi and Pepper looked at you, making you giggle. Pepper was more or less excited, his head lifted up and his tail wagging. Daichi looked at you with an amused expression, pausing the show as he looked at you.

“What’s up with you? You don’t usually like giving pepper a bath.” His eyebrow was raised at you, a smirk playing at his lips.

“I just want to bathe him, what’s so wrong with that?” You pouted, eyebrows knitting together.

“Ok, Ok! We can go bathe him.” He unwraps his arms around you then gets up. “Come on then, get your cute butt up off the couch!” He grinned at you teasingly, having both of his hands out for you to take.

You playfully stuck you tongue out at him, reaching for his hands and getting up. Pepper was circling the two of you as you got up, petting him as you made your way to the backyard. You took your big poofy sweater off then hung it on one of the lounge chairs you had outside, revealing you in your black tank top and dark blue shorts. Daichi looked at you with so much admiration, his heart making laps as he looked at you. No makeup, Hair up in a messy bun, and just in your pajamas. To him you were perfect, especially at this picture perfect moment.

“Hey, handsome! Like what you see?” You posed in a wacky manner, pointing at him with finger guns.

This made him laugh hard, hard enough to make him put a hand to his stomach. “You are so adorable!” He said in between laughs, his face turning red.

“I am to be and only be adorable!” You retorted, laughing as well.

Pepper had started running around the backyard, going back and forth between you and Daichi. You straightened up after a bit, getting your breathing under control then walking over to him. He had such a child-like smile plastered on his face, one that had made your heart go over any speed limit.

“What? You seem oddly extra happy..” You put a hand up to his chest, right where here heart was,

“It’s not that, silly little bean!” His smile grew wider. “I’m just in love, that’s all.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him.

You feel your face flare up, the heat spreading like wildfire. “Wh-wha-what?!” You stuttered out, clearly flustered.

He laughs wholeheartedly, his eyes disappearing. “Love, it’s been 8 years.”

“I-I know! It’s just..” You shied away from him, looking at your hands that were resting on his chest. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, you better.” He gives you an eskimo kiss. “Because I’ll love you until the end of time.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper.

“Oh stop that!” You sniffled, swatting his chest playfully. “Can we just wash Pepper already?” Your gaze flicked up to his for a moment before you pulled away from him, patting your thigh for your dog to lean up against.

He looked at you with such a gentle expression then he shook his head. “Yes, yes. Let’s wash Pepper now.”

He walked over to the little shack that was on the far corner of the yard, going in to grab the little utility tub that you would use when you bathed Pepper outside. You let Pepper follow you around as you took the garden hose and unspooled it from the hose reel, filling up the tub that Daichi had placed in the middle of the yard. Your dog was absolutely overjoyed as the tub filled with water, running and barking all around with her tail waving in the air.

“Yes, yes Pepper! It’s bath time for you!” You cheerfully spoke to her and she barked back, her tongue hanging the side of her mouth.

Daichi chuckled to himself at your exchange with the dog, finding it so cute. “Hey, I’m going to go grab her shampoo, ok?” He kissed the side of your head before walking back inside. “Be right back!”

“Ok! Better hurry up, because she is ready to jump in the water!” You giggled, playfully pointing the spray nozzle on Pepper only to fake her out.

He goes back in the house then re-emerges minutes later with the bottle of dog shampoo. “Alright! I got it!” He freezes as he steps out, the scene in front of him seeming to be slow motion.

You were running around, smiling and giggling so freely while your dog was chasing you. He felt his breath get taken away at the sight of you being so carefree and so happy. You stop running once you notice him, Pepper letting out little ‘gruffs’ as she hopped about.

“Come on babe!!” The smile on your face expanded, inviting him over.

He jogs over to you and without notice, you spray him with water. “Hey!” He wiped his face, arching a challenging eyebrow at you. “I see..”

He tries to pry the hose from you, only for Pepper to run in front of him and jump up into his arms. You spray them both again, Pepper seeming to be the only one entertained. He could see the mischief in your eyes so he squints at you.

“Try that again. Bet.” He challenges you, a smirk on his face.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do?” You return the tone, your lips curling up into a cat-like smile.

“Do it. Spray me.” He seemed to be confident even though he probably couldn’t do much with a giant dog in his arms.

You took the challenge, snickering after you spray him. You didn’t even notice that he had put pepper down and has now managed to steal the hose from you. He gives a fake evil laugh, the spray nozzle pointed at you.

“Put your hands up!” He changes his stance, smiling wickedly.

You gasp rather dramatically at this, putting your hands up in the air. “Oh no sir! I didn’t do anything, I swear!” You played innocent then put a hand up to your forehead. “Please let me go! I’m just an innocent young lady!”

“Are you now?” He pretends to put the nozzle down but then he sprays you once you’ve let your guard down.

“Hey!!” You looked at him in shock then you started giggling.

“What? You started it first, you know?” He chuckles then he waves you over. “Come on, you were the one who said to bathe Pepper.”

You nod and call Pepper over. “Come on, Pepper! In the tub!” As per command, she hops in. “Good girl!”

“Good girl, Pepper!” Daichi said the same time as you, still chuckling.

“Go ahead and wet her, I’ll grab the shampoo!” You walk over to the lounge chair where he had left the shampoo then you walk back.

You open the tube and start pouring it on your dog, lathering it up with your hands. He sprays her a little more to help with lathering up before he comes over to start washing her too.

About halfway through washing Pepper, an idea came to your mind. You giggle to yourself, peeking at Daichi for a second before scooping up a whole bunch of foam.

He notices you look at him so he squints at you. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing~” You said nonchalantly before jumping up and blowing the foam bubbles towards him.

He waved it off, making it float around in the air. “Oh, so you want a bubble war, huh?” He takes a handful of bubbles and runs around towards you, blowing it your way.

You ran around, playing ring around the rosie with him. Pepper starts barking and getting excited, shaking all the water and suds out.

“PEPPER!!” You yelled and chased her around.

“Come back!” Daichi grabbed the hose and started spraying Pepper.

Bubbles and foam flew around the air, the atmosphere looked like it was from a movie scene. Time seemed to have slowed and it was like a sweet melody played in the background. Your hair flowed beautifully in the air, yours and his laughter mixed. He chased after you, dropping the hose to wrap you around his arms. The both of you tumbled on to the ground, a big laughing mess. He kept you safely in his arms, laying on your sides.

“I would definitely want to bathe Pepper all the time now!” You wiped your face clear of random suds, laughter slowly dying down.

“Really?” He asked, a bit perplexed.

“Yeah! I mean as long as we bathe her out here!” You beamed up at him.

“I guess that’s what we’re going to be doing from now on!” He returned the smile,

You raised both of your hands up in the air, your face radiated happiness and he loved it. He relished in this exact moment. Bubbles still flew in the air and off to somewhere far away, the grass brushing up against both of your exposed skin. The two of you faced each other, both looking at the other very lovingly.

“My pretty girl.” He tucked your hair behind your ear.

“My handsome man.” You purred at his touch.

His eyes remained on yours, looking deeply into them. You closed the space between you and gave him a chaste kiss, tracing his jaw with your finger. He hummed as you kissed him while you smiled against his lips.

“I still can’t believe it’s already been eight years.” You said softly after pulling away.

“Don’t forget, we’ve been married for half of those years.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You giggled then rubbed his nose with yours. “It’s still surreal to me, being called Mx. Sawamura.”

“It has a nice ring to it though.” He smiled wolfishly.

“It really does..” You traced little shapes on his chest.

“Hey.” He swiped your cheek with the back of his hand and you hummed in response. “I love you.” A soft smile grazed his features.

“Hey.” You tapped his nose again and he scrunched it up. “I love you too.” You giggled lightly, the corners of your eyes closing.

“I love y-“ He gets cut off by Pepper who is now laying in between you two.

You start laughing again, your arms up in the air. Pepper whined, licking Daichi’s face. He petted her head while you rubbed her tummy. Laughs and giggles filled the air again, amusement surrounded by love.

“Ok, ok! Let’s get this good girl washed now, shall we?” He patted her head then got up.

“Let’s!” You took his hand and got up. “Then it’s our turn?” You looked at him bashfully.

“After we dry her but yes, our turn later.” He smiled softly at you.

You finished up bathing your dog and cleaning up. The rest of the day was spent loafing and relaxing in each other’s arms. The warmth spreading around, encasing the place with nothing but love.

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ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

Operation: Love Letters | 02

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 7k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings: none.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

"So what's the plan?" You ask Jimin, who has his leg propped up beside you on the barricade separating the bleachers from the campus football field. It's later that same evening and you're buzzing with adrenaline at the thought of the mission you're about to embark on in pursuit of your secret admirer — renowned football player and campus 'it' boy Jung Hoseok.

"Well," Jimin eases his leg down and drops into a deep stretch before his head pops back up over the barricade and he shakes his cheer pom poms with a grin. "As you know, tonight is the pep rally!"

Jimin points excitedly to the red and white cheer uniform he dons with PARK written on the back. He's been a part of the cheer squad since high school, and although his preppy school spirit usually wears thin, you are silently glad that posing as his supportive best friend offers you the perfect excuse to bump into your potential footballer bachelor.

"Don't tell me you've dragged me all the way here just to watch you and the cheer team perform?" You groan, flopping back into your seat unamused and wrinkling your nose at the small stadium you find yourself reluctantly sat in. The rally doesn’t start for 45 minutes but the air is already alive with a buzz of excitement, the scent of hot dogs and burgers floating from nearby carts that are stuffed with students brandishing red foam fingers and mascot hats and and a sickening amount of school spirit that makes your eyes roll.

Jimin shoots you a stern look as he rubs a crick out of his neck "What? Not even an ounce of support for your best friend?" It's his turn to roll his eyes now, but he brushes your betrayal off quickly, far too excited by the mission at hand. "No, I dragged you here because of course Hoseok is gonna come tonight! He's team captain after all."

As if on cue, a busted up truck squeals into the lot, and from your seat in the bleachers you have the perfect view as the door swings open and a hoard of football players come tumbling out, laughing and hooting like they drank one too many redbull's on the way here.The rally crowd parts like the red sea, allowing the team to run out onto the pitch in a playful brawl.

The last guy to swing himself out of the back of the truck is taller and lankier than the rest, yet somehow broad beneath his college varsity jacket that unlike his teammates simple red and white ensembles is made from black studded leather with a red 28 emblazoned in the back. You notice the beginnings of black inkings that curve up his arms where they poke out from the bottom of his sleeve, winding all the way up to where they end at the base of his neck.

His wavy auburn hair parts perfectly down the middle, barely ruffled by the early spring breeze, and you know instantly when his face lights up into a swoon worthy smirk that this is the guy you're looking for.

This is Jung Hoseok. The bad boy football player that every girl on campus has a crush on and every guy secretly wishes they could be. And, allegedly, your very own secret admirer

.He joins his teammates who welcome him with thumps on the back, but not before he cups his forehead and squints up towards the bleachers as if he's looking for someone. His eyes pause when they get to you, a smile appearing on his face as he offers a small wave in your direction before he's being dragged away by a hoard of cheerleaders and you're left with your heart thumping in your chest like a drum.

"That's the guy who sent me the love letter?" You gawk, pulling Jimin up to talk a short distance away from the prying eyes of the rest of the cheer squad.

"Did you see that?" Jimin grips your arm excitedly. "He totally just tried to flirt with you! It has to be him."

"So?” You say skeptically. "This whole thing seems too good to be true."

"So all we have to do is get you two alone and bad-a bing bad-a boom! You've got yourself a valentine!"

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "How do you suppose I get him alone when he's gonna be surrounded by the football team all night?

Jimin plants his hands on his hips with a smug smile and leans on the barricade to rest his chin in his palms innocently. "I might just have the perfect way."

A nervous sigh leaves your chest, voice heightening in pitch. "Jimin? What did you do?"

He throws his hands up in defence. "What makes you think I did something bad? I just did whatever I had to so you can get your man." He throws an arm around your shoulders, like he's doing you a favour, and points out at the pitch where the football team are jumping around playfully. "Think about it. What you need is some one on one time with Hoseok, so you can ask him about the letter without seeming suspicious right? And who else has a better disguise than this guy?” With a shit eating grin, he holds up the head of your school's mascot, a permanently giddy lion with matted golden fur. You go to protest but Jimin throws a matching fursuit towards your open mouthed expression before you can.

"Tell me you didn't!" You groan.

"Oh. But I did." Jimin snorts, but before you can grab him by the collar and flick him in the forehead he's already starting to jog across the pitch as a whistle sounds behind him and the rest of the cheer team beckon for him to join them. "Better hurry up and get changed, tiger!"

You scuff your shoes in the dirt, unimpressed. "It's a goddamn lion." Is grumbled under your breath as you head towards the locker rooms to change into the abomination you cradle in your arms.

In the name of Operation Love letters, you tell yourself. In the name of Operation Love Letters.

“This Jung Hoseok dude better be worth it.” You mumble to yourself as you run a lap around the field for the nth time, clutching your side. “Goddamn, I’m out of shape.”

It’s a few hours later, and your patience is running thin. You’ve been dancing around the pitch all night like a maniac in your stupid mascot suit, desperately trying to get Hoseok’s attention, but so far failing. Every time you try to approach him, you get dragged away by a hoard of cheerleaders who are determined to do the school pride cheer again, and the one time you got as close as a few inches away from him, you were hit in the face by a flying football, left to writhe in the mud while Hoseok got swallowed by the football team again much to your dismay.

Finally, you admit defeat. Your toes hurt, you’re out of breath and this goddamn mascot head smells like feet. All you want to do is splash some cold water on your face and forget this night ever happened.

Before you can think better of it, you’re ducking behind a nearby car out of view from the rumbling crowd, sidling around the back of the building with your back pressed to the wall. You feel around for the bathroom door, squinting desperately...except you can’t see a single thing through the tiny eye holes of this stupid lion mask.

“Dang it!” This night is really against you huh? You are gonna kill Park Jimin for this!

Grumbling under your breath, your hand finally closes around a metal handle, and you push open the door with your back, wrestling with the mask sat heavy on your shoulders, and before you know it, you’re tripping over your own feet and falling head first into the arms of a stranger.

A pair of helpful hands wrangle away the mask, your hair falling free around your shoulders, and you can’t help but gasp when you look up and find yourself staring into a pair of concerned eyes you’ve been searching for all night. “Shoot I’m sorry.. wait, Hoseok?”

Yup. It’s definitely him. The leather jacket and the lip ring confirm it. He pulls you to your feet gently, letting go when he’s sure you’ve found your balance.

"Y/N, right?" Hoseok is eye level with you now, a smile tugging at his lips as he brushes the dirt from the mascot head and hands it to you with one of his signature smiles and you find yourself unable to look away.

"Uh, yeah..." You say, sliding the head beneath your elbow with a small nod in thanks. "That's me."

"Jung Hoseok." He stretches out a hand for you to shake and his palm is warm when it squeezes your own tightly. Hoseok tilts his head to the side, tongue between his teeth playfully, and you can't help but notice how much prettier he is up close. "Although it seems like you already know that."

A flush burns in your cheeks and you have to avert your gaze, the teasing glint in his eyes as he runs a hand through his perfectly gelled hair far too intimidating to face head on. "Uh..."

"What are you doing back here, anyway?" Hoseok continues to prod with arms crossed across his chest. "Not following me, are you? I haven’t seen you around here before."

Damn it. He's on to you already?

"No!" You squeak, defensive, but when you see the subtle turn up of Hoseok's lips and you realise he's joking you let your shoulders relax and join in with his laughter sheepishly as you grapple for an excuse that isn't I think you wrote me a love letter and I'm here to grill you until you admit it.

"Okay, maybe I was." You admit finally. "I just...wanted to get out of this stupid costume and then I saw you coming back here and I guess I got curious."

Whoops. Was that too direct?

Hoseok's eyes light up in understanding and you let out the breath you were holding when you decide you've safely got him off your trail. At least for now, anyway.

"I think the costume looks cute." He smiles, and your cheeks heat up as he holds open the door for you to slip out into the cool night, his black boots scuffing across the parking lot while you scurry after him in tow. "Why were you curious? You looking to get...lucky?"

Eyes widening, you rush forward to stop him in his tracks. “N-no! It’s not like that--”

A velvety chuckle leaves his lips. “Not that kind of lucky. I mean, literal luck.” He slings his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket. “You see, everyone always asks about the secret behind my winning streak, and truth is, I have a sort of...pre-game ritual.”

You nod. Hoseok is known around campus for never losing a football game as long as he’s on the team. You bite your lip, hand curling around the love letter in your pocket that burns against your thigh. "I guess you could say that I need some luck."

Hoseok smirks. "Well who would I be to deny you when I have all the luck you need right here." He pats his pocket knowingly, and a nasty thought suddenly strikes you.

"It's not drugs is it?" You grimace.

Hoseok comes to a sudden stop beside a scuffed up truck that’s parked in the furthermost space in the lot and you almost walk right into him.

"Judging a book by its cover, don't you think?" He chuckles with a velvet tone when he gestures to his bad boy appearance, and you instantly feel bad for assuming. "Nope. Try again. Look around and you'll find it."

You can't help but feel like you're missing something as even when you spin around and glance over the whole lot you can't see a single thing out of the ordinary that might serve as a good luck charm to the smug jock before you.

You blink at him, confused. "Well...what is it?"

"You really want to know?" He braces an elbow on the side of his truck, hand shooting out to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger.

Nervous butterflies erupt in your tummy and the alarm in your mind says abort! but your feet stay planted in your spot anyway. "I guess.”

"Can you keep a secret?" He blinks, tone suddenly deep and ever serious, pinky finger held out for you to take in yours.

You don't know what possesses you to do it, to give this near stranger your word — is it the burning desire to find out the author of your love letter or Hoseok's charmingly sweet dimples? You can't tell — but you wrap your finger round his and seal the promise with a press of your thumb. "S-sure."

His hand slides into his pocket and, to your surprise, his palm opens to reveal a set of car keys. With a grin Hoseok swings himself into the bed of his truck, landing on his feet and turning back to reach out a hand so he can pull you in after him.

"Then you'd better come on up!"

With a deep breath you take his hand and let him pull you into the truck. The floor is littered with soft throw cushions and you land with a plush thump. Hoseok must notice the way you rub your arms over the stupid lion costume you still don because his head disappears into the back seat of his truck before he emerges with two cosy blankets.

"Take one of these. It can get cold this time of year, huh?"

"Thanks." You stammer, and just as he bends down to wrap the fabric around your shoulders, the sleeve of his jacket slips back to reveal the beginnings of the delicate inked artwork that litters his skin.

"Cool tattoo's." You breathe, eyes zoning in on the smallest expanse of black ink that sits at the base of his wrist. II.X.MMXX. A date, perhaps?

"Oh this?" He notices you staring and runs a thumb over the spot fondly, like the small addition to his sleeve has more meaning than some of the bigger pieces. He shakes his head. "It's nothing."

"What does it mean?" You prod eagerly, and he laughs at your curiosity.

"It's the date we won nationals. The whole team got the same one." He grins at you now, leaning on his elbow against the back of the truck so that he's close enough to make you shiver. "Speaking of winning, I saw you in the bleachers tonight. Didn't think you were the football type."

"Yeah, guess I wanted to try something new..." You chuckle nervously, internally cringing at the awkwardness in your voice, but Hoseok just raises an amused eyebrow. "Never too late to start a new hobby right?"

"Well if you ever wanted someone to coach you..." Hoseok leans in a little closer, his breath ghosting across your cheek, and you feel your legs go weak when he just pulls back with a coy smile. "You know where I am."

"O-oh okay." You breathe, face flushing a deep shade of red when you realise how easily he managed to charm you. Damn you Jung Hoseok and your deep, brown eyes...snap out of it, Y/N! You’re here for a reason!

"So you wanna know my lucky secret, huh?"

Yeah. The secret admirer kind of secret.

Hoseok scoots over so he's laying on his back with his palms behind his head in a makeshift pillow, before he turns to you with a grin. "Look up."

You gasp when you follow his instructions and lay eyes on an opening in the trees surrounding the lot, a view of the clear starry night sky and the perfect curve of a half moon visible through the branches dancing lazily in the night time breeze ruffling your hair. Out here in the back of Hoseok’s truck, the roar from the pep rally is barely audible, and it's like you're alone with the stars, not a single cloud in sight, and you're almost speechless at the breathtaking sight that was above you all along — you just failed to notice it.

Hoseok didn't, though. He fiddles with the stretcher in his ear, like he's nervously eager to gauge your reaction. "Cool huh?"

"Woah." You manage to gasp, eyes never leaving the blanket of navy blue night above you as you lay down beside him with your head propped on a pillow in wonder. "This is where you disappear to before games?"

Hoseok folds his hands across his stomach, letting out a deep, relaxed sigh. "Yeah. I like it here, alone in the peace and quiet. Its kinda my place. To think you know? Calm my nerves before the game."

"Why don't you tell people about this? It's so beautiful."

"Because that would kinda kill the mysterious thing I have going on don't you think?" He rolls into his elbow to throw you a wink "And besides, I've never brought anyone back here before. At least...until now."

You push him playfully. "So I'm the first to know the secret behind Jung Hoseok's lucky pre-game ritual huh?"

"Well it's more of an excuse to get out of the shitty pep rally than a ritual really, but I guess you are. I can't play a single game without, y'know..."

You shake your head. "What?"

Hoseok lifts his eyes, pointing towards a flash of silver light that darts across the sky so fast you almost miss it. "Without making a wish."

Instinctively you close your eyes, hands clasped together as you clear your mind of any thoughts apart from the single wish that weighs on your heart. Please show me the identity of my secret admirer.

"Did you make one?" Hoseok's voice jolts you back to reality, and he's smirking at you now.

You scramble into a sitting position, cheeks hot like he could somehow read your mind and chuckle at your silly schoolgirl wish. "Did you?"

"Yeah. But it won't come true if I tell you." Hoseok places a hand on your cheek and your stomach does a somersault. Dang, I should wish on stars more often if they work this quickly. "But I have a feeling it might just come true if I..."

He leans in towards you, and your eyes flutter shut instinctively as your purse your lips and then —

"JUNG HOSEOK! GET YOUR ASS BACK ON THE PITCH AND STAT, DUDE."

You jump apart like you touched a live wire, and Hoseok flashes you a sympathetic look as he throws off his blanket and begins to hop out of the truck.

"Dang it, I think the guys are looking for me. We'd better get back out there." He chuckles.

He can't leave yet! Not before you've asked him about the letter!

"Wait! Can I ask you something first—"

"Hold up." Hoseok bends to his knees when he sees something fluttering in the wind, caught beneath the wheel of his truck. "Did you drop something?"

"Oh no..." Panic courses through your veins when you slide a hand into your pocket, and your worst fear is confirmed: the love letter is not where you left it.

But it's too late, and before you can stop him Hoseok is already stamping on the piece of paper and dropping to his knees to scoop up it up with a gracious smile; but it falters at the edges when he scans the messy scrawl littering the crumpled letter with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gets to the end.

"Is this..."

"A love letter?" You butt in, wringing your hands anxiously. "Yeah. I received it yesterday."

Hoseok looks between you and the letter curiously, almost panicked. "Do you know who sent it to you?"

You shake your head. "Uh, that's actually why I came here. To ask you."

There's a brief pause and Hoseok swallows hard before he points at the scribbled note between his fingertips. His voice sounds strained, and he seems almost pained when he shakes his head in confusion. "You think I sent this to you?"

"I...I guess so?" Embarrassment blooms in your cheeks when you hear the lack of amusement in Hoseok's voice, how his signature charming smile has disappeared from his face only to be replaced with a tight frown. Was the idea of him having a crush on you so unthinkable he was actually mad at your assumption? "Would that be so bad?"

"Well you have the wrong guy." Hoseok folds up the note, something close to annoyance crossing his features as he presses the paper into your chest with a shrug of his shoulders. You stagger back open mouthed as he swings his gym bag over his shoulder and barges past you in the direction of the pep rally. "I have to go."

"Hey, wait!" Hoseok's stride falters and he turns to look at you one last time. "You really don't know anything about it? Like who could have sent it or something?"

He pulls his lip between his teeth, as if he's thinking. There's a brief moment where you think he's going to spill something, but then Hoseok trains his eyes to the ground and pushes forward with a sigh. "Nope. Nothing. See you around, I guess."

And with that, you watch, clutching the love letter, as Hoseok disappears into the dark parking lot, no closer to finding out who your admirer is than when you started.

"And then he just stormed out!" You exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest with a renewed frustration after recounting your encounter with Hoseok to Yoongi, who listens diligently with a gaping mouth from where he is snuggled under the blanket you share at the opposite side of the couch. He found you moping about once he got back from class, and he wouldn't let it go until you finally fessed up about Hoseok's blatant rejection.

"That asshole." Yoongi's fists clench, jaw tightening when he notices how you use the hem of the blanket to rub away any remaining evidence of the mascara tracks on your cheeks. "I should go give him a piece of my mind—"

"Don't bother," You sigh, picking at a loose thread on the throw cushion you cradle in your lap with a pout. "He'd probably just think I'm even more of an idiot."

You both jump when a tinny voice rings out through the apartment from your phone speaker. "But that doesn't explain why his cologne was on the love letter. Or why he got so weird when you brought it up."

"Dude, have you been here this whole time?" Yoongi exclaims, shooting you a look when he picks up your phone from the back of the couch and see's Jimin's face staring back at him through a video call, hair messy from his mid-afternoon nap.

"Duh." Comes Jimin's high pitched response. "How could I miss this juicy development in the mystery?"

With a roll of your eyes you snatch back your phone and flick Yoongi in the forehead, ignoring his ow! of protest by addressing Jimin instead.

"You're right. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it."

Jimin purses his lips thoughtfully. "Totally. So we only have one option left. If he won't talk then we have to make him."

Yoongi crosses his arms with a snort, flopping back against the couch. "How? He's literally twice your size, man."

Jimin just rolls his eyes. "Every football player has a weakness. And there's one place they think nobody will ever find it."

You cock your head. "Where?"

"The locker rooms."

You throw the blanket off your lap much to Yoongi's disgruntled surprise and jump to your feet.

"Where are you going? Is this another one of your Operation bag-a-boyfriend things?" He groans.

"Operation Love Letters," You correct with a click of your tongue as you head towards the door. "You're a genius, Park Jimin! Meet you outside my place in ten?"

"Already one step ahead of you." Jimin confirms, jangling his car keys in front of the camera before he ends the call with a monotone beep.

You're half way to the door when a dark thought strikes you, and you turn, biting your lip. "Hey Yoongi, can I ask you something?"

He lets out a groan but motions for you to talk when he sees how you wring your hands nervously. "What now?"

"Am I really that gross that someone like Hoseok wouldn't want to date me?" Your voice sounds smaller than you intend for it to and you're instantly ashamed as soon as the words leave your lips, especially when Yoongi's eyes widen to the size of saucers in disbelief.

"Why are you asking me this?" He asks with genuine confusion.

"I don't know, 'cause you're a guy?"

He lets out a sigh, before his voice softens and he looks at you directly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Then no. Any guy would be lucky to date you, Y/N." He furrows his eyebrows, clicking his tongue when he sees a grateful smile tug at your lips. "But you should work on being less annoying because your moping is starting to piss me off."

"I can't tell if that was a compliment or not but it made me feel better, so thank you."

"Don't think this means I've gone soft on you." He calls as you slip on your shoes and head out of the front door.

"Would never dream of it, Min Yoongi!"

"3...2...1...hold your nose!" Jimin mumbles from beneath the collar of the shirt he holds over the lower half of his face as he pushes into the men's locker room.

"Holy moly!" You stagger as you cross the threshold, fingers splayed across your eyes to preserve your innocence from any stray dangly parts that might be on display, the putrid smell of sweat and wet boy violating your nose. "What is that?"

"Sports." Jimin gags at the word that tastes sour on his tongue, eyes distant and glassy as he hops over a pile of musty football gear. "This is why I'm an exercise atheist."

You reluctantly remove your hands and glance around. The room is empty apart from the standard wooden locker room benches, a couple half emptied gym bags and a wall comprised of red lockers, each bolted with shiny silver padlocks.

"Where is everyone?" You ask, kicking a stray sock out of your path with a grimace. You had been expecting a commotion when you entered, screams along the lines of "there's a girl!" or "get her out!" but to your relief you're met with only the sound of pipes creaking and showers running nearby.

"If my calculations are correct, the team are cleaning up after practice so if we start looking now we should have exactly..." Jimin glances at his watch with a satisfied grin. "Five minutes to find some dirt on Hoseok."

"God I've never been so glad to have a stalker for a best friend before. Right. Where do we look first?"

"You hit the lockers and I'll start with these..." Jimin wrinkles his nose as he nods towards the gym bags lined up against the wall. He unzips his backpack and retrieves a pair of sunshine yellow rubber gloves and rolls up the sleeves of his expensive cashmere sweater before plunging his hands into the closest one with his eyes wrinkled shut in disgust. “Remember. We’re looking for his cologne or any other clues that he’s the one!”

You approach the lockers and find yourself momentarily stumped. Each one looks exactly the same, the only difference that they are labelled with an individual number in black paint. How on earth are you supposed to know which one belongs to Hoseok?

You squint at the wall of lockers carefully, rubbing your temples and willing a clue to reveal itself before your eyes flit across the locker labelled with a 28. Where have you seen that number before?

Wait...bingo! 28 is the number that Hoseok was wearing on the back of his jacket the other night, right? This has to be the one!

"Well that was easy." You call, a triumphant smile plastered to your face as you tug on the handle, only to be met with the tinny jingle jangle sound from the shiny silver padlock fastened to it. The colour drains from your face. Darn it! Of course he remembered to lock it today of all days.But why? Could that mean be really is hiding something?

"Uh, Jimin..." You call over your shoulder. "You got any idea what his combination might be?"

"Try his birthday!" Jimin's head pokes up from behind a rack of footballs. "One-eight-zero-two."

"Not gonna ask how you know that..." You murmur as you fiddle with the padlock, biting your lip when you punch in the numbers to no avail, the lock remaining firmly closed no matter how hard you tug on it. "Nope! Not budging."

"Are you sure you're doing it right?" Jimin emerges behind you, tongue between his teeth as he fiddles with the combination himself, only to be met with disappointment. "Huh."

You squeeze your eyes shut and wrack your brain for any clues you might have picked up from your brief talk with Hoseok. Nothing...nothing...wait!

Your thoughts flit back to the tattoo on Hoseok's wrist. IX.XI.MMXIX. "It's the date we won the football championships."

"Scoot, lemme try something." You brush Jimin out of the way and manhandle the lock, typing in the Roman numerals inked on Hoseok's arm from memory into a internet search and thumbing in the digits that pop up on screen carefully.

To your unabashed delight the padlock clicks open and you're able to wrangle it out of the locker, letting it drop to the tile in a crunch of metal. "No freaking way! I'm in!"

"Holy shit. Way to go, Nancy Drew!" Jimin rips off one of his gloves to smack you on the back triumphantly, but the smile fades from his face when he sees how you practically vibrate with nerves. Is it because you're about to break every rule in the college handbook or because you're about to find out whether goddamn Jung Hoseok has an all consuming crush on your boring ass? Even you can't quite tell.

Jimin's hand closes over yours, squeezing your fingers tightly around the locker handle. "Together, okay?"

You nod. It's now or never. The answer to who sent you the love letter could be right behind this locker door. All you have to do is open it to find out. "On the count of three?"

Jimin sucks in a breath of preparation. "One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

The red metal door creaks as it swings open, and you suck in a shaky breath, eyes squeezed shut as you prepare yourself for what you might find inside — more love notes? god forbid a shrine in your honour — when you finally open them, only for the big reveal to be...absolutely nothing.

"Oh."

Just an empty protein shake, a pair of dirty sneakers and a borrowed calculus book are shoved into the bottom shelf of the otherwise empty locker. Huh.

"Maybe this isn't his locker after all..." Jimin starts, before he is interrupted by a throaty cough. He practically jumps into the air, gripping your arm as you freeze and both turn in dreaded unison to face it's owner.

"That's my locker you're snooping through. Care to explain?"

"Oh my god."

Your jaw practically drops to the tile. Stood before you is none other than Hoseok himself, wet and glistening in all his bare-chested-fresh-from-the-shower glory, wearing nothing but a white gym towel slung low round his hips. He has his inked arms crossed over his chest, biceps defined as he taps his foot impatiently and flicks the strands of effortlessly messy damp hair out of his eyes, sending droplets of water drizzling down his sharp jawline, past his impossibly hard abs and all the way to the mouth watering V poking out from beneath his towel...

Oh shit. Were you staring? You totally were! Damn it, you are starting to see why everyone on campus has a crush on this guy...

"U-um..." You stutter. "I..we can explain!"

"So, explain? I'm waiting. Why in the hell are you going through my locker. And what are you even doing in the guy's locker room, Y/N?"

You glance at Jimin for moral support, but judging by the dazed look on his face you figure he's too busy lusting over Hoseok's god-like body to provide any adequate back up, so you suck in a deep breath, fiddle in your pocket for the crumpled note and decide to confront him head on.

"We're here because we know you wrote this letter." You let out in one breath, stumbling over your words as you thrust it towards Hoseok's confused face. "We know you wrote it. It has your cologne on it! So we came to..."

"Prove it?" Hoseok's finishes as he carefully takes the note, wet hands dampening the edges of the paper as his eyes scan the handwritten scrawl with quick, unblinking eyes. "I already told you. It's not mine."

All you can do is stand there uncomfortably while he brushes past you to his locker where he rummages around for a deodorant stick, suddenly aware of how naked he is just a couple inches away from you, Jimin still gripping your elbow with a dreamy open mouthed expression.

"So you're really not even going to say anything?" You ask, stunned as Hoseok just rolls his eyes when he turns and finds you still standing there.

"Nope. But happy secret admirer hunting, or whatever."

Your fist shakes as it tightens around the note, a sudden confidence gripping you despite the hot flush of embarrassment caressing your cheeks.

"Hey! Do you always have to be such an ass?" You spit. Hoseok stiffens with his deodorant stick pressed to his underarm. "You know what? Forget it. This is all the proof I need that you aren't the guy who wrote this letter after all."

"Don't you have anything better to do than look for the guy who sent you that stupid letter?" Hoseok suddenly exclaims. "You could have anyone and you choose the idiot who can't even confess to your face?"

You stand there, unblinking and surprised, as Hoseok breathes heavily and slams his locker shut. The person who wrote the letter sounds tender, gentle. Everything that Hoseok evidently is not. Forget finding clues. It's obvious now that you had been following a dead trail the whole time coming here.

"I'm glad you aren't my admirer." You spit. "Thanks for nothing, Jung Hoseok."

Hoseok freezes, falling silent, like any harsh words on his tongue dissipated to nothingness. His expression cracks, and you furrow your brow. Is he...hurt?

"Come on." Jimin hisses in your ear, bringing you back down from your outburst. The rest of the football team has started to filter in now, awkwardly edging around you and Hoseok who are still locked in a stare down. You feel Jimin tugging on your arm, pulling you towards the exit. "We got what we came for. Let's just go—"

"Wait!" Hoseok suddenly exclaims, lurching forward to grab your wrist and pin you in place. His bare skin feels, droplets of water from his wet torso splashing onto your sweater. "Just wait a second. Can we talk?"

"What is your problem, dude?" You hiss, ripping your arm from his grip once he manages to tug you, with Jimin faithfully in tow, behind a shower stall where you can find some privacy.

"I just...look I'm sorry okay. I didn't want to be an ass it's just..." He looks at you straight on as he produces a crumpled piece of paper, a feeble smile finding his lips as he hands it to you with a shrug, words spilling out in one breath. "I got your name in the Love Calculator."

You choke when, sure enough, you rip the page from his grasp and read your own name right at the top of the page. "W-what?"

"But I'm not the guy who wrote the letter!" He adds quickly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was too late. He already wrote to you before I could..."

"Before you could send me a love letter?"

“I’m sorry for taking it out on you.” Hoseok smiles feebly. "I guess I'm just not used to losing, huh?"

Oh.

You bite your lip, cheeks suddenly hot under his gaze, Hoseok wringing his hands like he's waiting for you to say something. This would be a lot less awkward if he wasn't half naked and you weren't eye level with his freaking nipples right now.

"Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?"

"Because my pride was hurt and I could tell you already have your heart set on the person who wrote you this letter, but I thought that if I deterred you, you'd forget about him." He shrugs his shoulders. "Flawed logic I know."

A smile grows on your face. So Hoseok didn’t hate you after all. He just didn’t know how to express his emotions.

You punch his shoulder playfully, and he seems relieved that you aren't mad anymore, even pretending to rub the spot like it hurt. "Dude, you made me come into the guy's locker room to tell me this?"

"Hey, I said I'm sorry!" Hoseok chuckles. "But I have a way I could make it up to you."

"How?"

"I guess...I guess I lied when I said I didn't know who could have written the letter." Hoseok scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. He takes the note from your grip and points to the red and blue emblem printed in the corner of the paper. "This. It's the Kappa Tau logo. You know, the college fraternity?"

You nod eagerly. "So? What does that mean?"

"Whoever wrote this letter is clearly a member, right? So you should talk to the president, Kim Seokjin. He might be able to tell you who wrote it."

Eyes widening, you snap your fingers when the next puzzle piece falls into place. Kim Seokjin! He matched with you in the Love Calculator survey, right? This has to be a lead!

Jimin seems to be thinking the same thing. He grabs you by the elbow, dragging you across the locker room excitedly. "We need to come up with a new plan and stat."

You nod, but not before you catch how Hoseok's shoulder's slump forward as he runs a sorrowful hand through his damp hair. Jimin notices too, nodding as he takes the hint and goes to wait for you in the car while you finish up things here.

"Hey, thanks a lot, Hoseok." You say softly as you grip his forearm and he looks up at you in surprise. "You really helped a ton."

He puffs out his chest with a shrug, flexing his tattooed arms. "It's the least I could do." His voice turns soft though when he looks at you with a small smile, holding a hand out for you to shake. "Friends?"

You slide your palm into his with a nod. "Friends."

"Good luck admirer hunting, forreal this time!" He calls as you cross the locker room, and you flash him a grateful smile, but not before the door is flying open and you're walking straight into a damp bare chest.

"Hey Hoseok, thanks for letting me borrow your— Y/N?" A familiar voice grumbles, and when you look up to scold the person who just carelessly gave you a concussion with their pecks, you're met with none other than the confused face of your roommate looking down at you. "What are you doing in here?" Yoongi deadpans. "Let me guess. It's for Operation eros epistle?"

"I'm just leaving," You say with an eye roll as he sprays a fragrance on his neck and wrists with an innocent expression. "And it's Operation Love Letters, dude. How many times?"

Hoseok chuckles from across the room, taking the bottle from Yoongi and spraying some for himself. "I've been looking for this cologne everywhere, thanks man!"

"You're welcome." Yoongi says, but his eyes are still on you as he watches you head out into the parking lot and hop into Jimin's purring car.

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lochrannn · 3 years

Text

AU-gust: Mama, didn’t mean to make you cry

Read on AO3

prompt no 11: Summer Camp

Characters: Lila Pitt, Diego Hargreeves, Number Five Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Diego has asked her twice whether she’d like to help out with the summer holiday programme that he’s set up at his gym for inner city kids whose parents haven’t got the means or availability to send them off to camp, but Lila just waffled a half-answer that boiled down to “no thanks” and he hasn’t asked her again.

It’s not like she doesn’t support the idea. She supposes it’s a nice thing to do for the kids. Diego’s definitely thriving and she’ll usually actively support anything that’ll make him happy, but he’s enjoying himself with or without her participation and when it boils down to it, Lila really doesn’t need to spend her days hanging out with a bunch of snivelling children full of tragic backstories. She’s got plenty of that herself, thank you very much.

That may not have been how she put it to Diego. Maybe the fact that she very quickly started ranting about snot-nosed brats is the reason why he hasn’t brought it up again.

Until today that is.

“Hey Lila,” Diego calls from the kitchen as she’s in the process of brushing her teeth, “can I ask for a favor?”

Lila walks out of the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste and scrubbing away to find Diego at the kitchen table tinkering with a torch.

“Wha’ ‘ooh you nee’?” Lila asks, finding it a bit hard to articulate around the foam, but she’s sure Diego got the message.

“I… uh… I’m running a little late and I kinda need Five’s van,” he says, not looking up at her, instead concentrating on connecting two very thin looking wires, “He said I could pick it up this morning but I’ve got to get to the gym and won’t have time to swing by the Academy first.”

Then he does take his eyes off his work and instead turns them on her, big and round and shiny, the puppy dog eyes that she personally believes are an unfair tactic in any conversation and asks, “You’re not doing anything this morning, right? You wouldn’t… you know…?” he trails off, apparently hoping that he doesn’t actually have to ask, that she’ll just fill in the rest for herself.

Lila goes over to the kitchen sink to rinse her mouth out and get rid of the toothpaste and once she’s satisfied that she will be able to talk properly again she asks, brandishing her toothbrush a little menacingly at him, “So you’re asking me, on my day off, to take the bus over to the Academy, so I can get the van that your murdering, geriatric brother who walks around in a child’s body, stole off some unsuspecting handyman, even though you could all afford to buy a fucking van, and then bring it to you and what? Get the bus back home after?”

“Uh… yeah?” Diego says a bit dumbly, then rallies and offers, “I’ll make you pancakes this evening!” and when she’s still staring him down he adds, “and I’ll give you a foot rub!”

“That’s not a fair offer, Diego, those are things you like!” Lila says indignantly.

“Yeah, but so do you!” Diego shoots back with an almost sly smirk.

“Urgh!” She throws her hands up in the air, “Fine!”

When Diego gets up and wraps his arms around her, she only resists for a moment on principle and then lets him press his lips against her temple. “Thanks babe!”

“Helloooooo?!” Lila calls out as she’s walking into the big entrance hall of the Umbrella Academy mansion.

She doesn’t actually have a key, but she doesn’t need one as nobody ever bothers locking the door. Anyone who might be even a remote threat to the Academy would easily get in whether the door was locked or not.

Her voice echoes in the hall but nobody answers, so she heads to the back stairs to make her way down to the kitchen.

When she gets there she finds both the man she was looking for and also her least favourite Hargreeves sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“Mh, where are the others?” she asks without any real greeting.

“Lila, always a pleasure!” Five’s response is dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, fuck you too!” she shoots back. “So where are the ape man and ghost boy?”

“They’ve gone to help our stabbiest brother with his little community engagement project,” Five answers with a bit of a huff, turning a page of his paper and then giving it a straightening shake.

“Why aren’t you with them?” Lila asks, genuinely curious now.

“I don’t particularly like children.”

Lila nods almost sympathetically.

“And they usually seem to think I’m one of them, which makes me want to chew off my own foot.”

“You are one of them, though, pipsqueak!” Lila says, ruffling his hair on the way to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that all he does is swat at her but doesn’t try and impale her hand with a fork.

“Also, why am I picking the van up if one of you three stooges could have brought it over just as easily?” She’s suddenly filled with indignation.

“Klaus and Luther were already gone when Diego rang and I’m waiting for an important call from Switzerland,” Five says a bit primly and Lila has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Oh, the CERN thing… And? Will we be sucked into a black hole or do you think that’s another apocalypse you can best?” Lila asks, not actually too concerned. Once you’ve dealt with enough doomsday scenarios, you become a bit desensitised.

Five shrugs. “Time will tell.”

“Right!” That’s enough playing nice with Five for one day, one of the reasons they do get on in a way is because they make sure to interact in bite sized increments, “Where are the keys, then?”

As Lila climbs out of the van she wonders how best to get the keys to Diego with the least amount of interaction with any of the screeching children on the premises.

For a moment she even considered just leaving the key in the ignition and wandering off, but she thinks Diego would throw a hissy fit. God forbid a car thief might take an interest in their stolen van.

As she comes around the side of the building she can already hear the absolute racket the group of children inside are making and a genuine shiver of apprehension runs down her spine.

But then a closer noise draws her attention and when she takes a look behind the dumpster she regrets having followed her instincts because cowering in the corner is a small child with long, dark, wavy hair that is sobbing uncontrollably.

For a second she thinks she might just hurry inside to let one of the adults know there’s a kid on her own out here, but even to her that doesn’t quite feel right, so she calls out softly, “Uh… little girl… I don’t think you should be out here.”

The girl spins around in shock and her huge, watery, brown eyes fix on Lila, almost like she’s a little bit afraid.

Then she sniffs loudly, Lila tries not to wince at the sound, and says with determination, “I’m not going back in!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Lila asks, approaching the child but also looking around for anyone more qualified to deal with the situation.

“Because Brad’s a dick!” she shouts as if Lila should have guessed that.

Lila has to suppress the urge to laugh at the foul language coming out of such a tiny little person, instead she says, “I don’t think you’re supposed to use words like that.”

The girl scowls at her, so Lila tries a different tactic. “What did he do?” she asks while crouching down next to the girl, who doesn’t seem to be too scared of her now.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” the girl mumbles petulantly.

“Okay…” Lila feels entirely in over her head, but so far she hasn’t had the urge to strangle this kid, so maybe she can make it through a conversation with her.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Niha,” the girl answers, “What’s yours?”

“Lila,” Lila offers.

“Oh cool! You’re Lila! Coach Diego talks about you all the time!” There’s genuine excitement in the girl’s expression now and LIla is completely taken aback.

“He does?!” she asks, her voice maybe just a bit shrill.

“Yeah! He says you’re one of the best fighters he knows and that it doesn’t matter that you’re a girl, that you put him on his ass all the time in training. See, Coach Diego uses bad language as well!” Niha says triumphantly, as if she’s just won some kind of argument.

“Yeah, I bet he does.” Lila is quite baffled at the glimpse she’s getting of Diego’s summer camp.

“Do you really not want to talk about what Brad did?” she then asks with as gentle a voice as possible, hoping to change the subject, as she suddenly feels a bit awkward about the idea that all of these children apparently know about her.

Niha huffs and caves in on herself again.

“He said I was dirt poor because I didn’t bring any snacks from home.” She sniffs and then blubbers on, “But that’s not even the truth, my mom just didn’t buy any for me. She doesn’t really care that much, I don’t think she really loves me!” And then the girl starts sobbing again and Lila has no idea what to do.

That’s not quite true. She knows what she’s supposed to say. She’s supposed to say ‘of course you’re mummy loves you, she probably just forgot’, but who the hell is she to tell anyone that their mum loves them?

So instead she puts her hand on the small girl's back and rubs it gently, then says, “Hey Niha, you know what? In a few years’ time you’ll be able to get a job and earn your own money and buy all the snacks you want!”

“I’m only eight!” Niha says with a bit of confusion and a bit of indignation and Lila has to admit maybe that wasn’t the best argument.

“Okay, look, I’ll buy you some snacks, okay? And Diego can bring them in for you tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“But he brings us snacks anyway!” The girl looks at her like she’s a bit of an idiot and right now Lila feels almost inclined to agree.

“But these’ll be special snacks, you little knowitall, just for you from me, alright?” Lila explains, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Niha’s eyes start shining brightly again, filling with more unshed tears and Lila hopes she’s not going to start crying again because she doesn’t think her brittle heart can take any more of that, but then something else seems to occur to the girl and she asks, nosily, “Are you Coach Diego’s wife?”

“Uhm!” Lila just makes a noise in panic and is luckily saved by the clanging sound of the metal door to the gym.

“Yo Niha, what are you doing out here? Oh, hey Lila!” Diego calls out with a surprised look on his face as he makes his way over.

Niha looks up at Lila, apparently hoping that she can explain the situation, but really, Lila is not too sure.

“Uh, she said she just needed some air, but she’s all better now, right?” Lila looks at the girl imploringly and she seems just as happy to go along with the lie.

“Well you’d better get back inside, then, we’re about to start an epic game of hide and seek!” Diego explains to the girl and it seems that was the best suggestion Niha has heard all day, because she jumps up to run over to the entrance. She just about manages to remember her manners when she calls out “Thanks!” to Lila before disappearing through the door.

Lila is still crouched on the floor, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“You okay?” Diego asks while she can hear him approach her. She doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s frowning.

Lila just hums noncommittally, but doesn’t move. The thought of that little girl making her way through life without being sure of her mother’s love is slowly breaking her heart.

“What’s up?” Diego tries again, as he reaches her.

She still doesn’t answer and when a tear rolls down her cheek, she feels Diego’s hand wrap around her arm and he pulls her to her feet before enveloping her in a tight hug.

She wraps her arms around his waist, to squeeze against him even more tightly and presses her face into his chest, hoping she can hide the fact that she’s crying. If not from Diego, then at least from the rest of the world.

He doesn’t ask her about it, at this point he knows she won’t talk until she’s ready to, instead he just holds on to her, stroking her hair gently with one hand until she feels no more brimming tears and she pulls away.

He does keep his hand at the back of her head though as he stoops a little to look her straight in the eyes. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lila says, a bit embarrassed about her sudden mild breakdown.

“You wanna come inside?” Diego asks with a soft smile that never fails to make something flutter in her chest and she feels at least a bit better.

“Nah, I’m good!” she says, voice more steady now.

“You sure?” Diego tries to make certain as he rights himself and lets his hand drop from her head to take her own with it instead.

“Yes, definitely,” Lila squeezes his hand to reassure him. “Don’t have the time, anyway. I’ve gotta go to the supermarket and buy some snacks!”

#au_gust_2021 #fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #five hargreeves #lochrannn lxd au challenge

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howling-harpy · 4 years

Text

Love bites

Pairing: Speirs/Lipton Rating: T Word count: 2850

Summary: Carwood wants to spend the V-E Day with Ron, but others keep getting in the way.

Celebrations of the V-E day went on for a couple of days, and no one attempted to put any stop to it. Thunderous good mood swiped every single soldier up with it, and everyone was too busy enjoying the purest joy they had ever felt to be concerned about order. Carwood was swept up as well, and he wanted to share the feeling. Wherever he wandered in Berchtesgaden, he met buddies and buddies of his buddies and strangers, all of them just as excited to shake his hand and hug him and invite him to their party.

The Alps had felt like the den of evil when they had first arrived, but now with the war ended and Hitler and his entire command dead, it was like the sun had risen for the first time in years and suddenly it was the most beautiful place on Earth. Carwood also knew with whom he wanted to share it, and so with a Champagne bottle in hand he skipped through the hallways and streets looking for Ron. What he found first was a frustrated First Sergeant Talbert who passed him in the stairs. “Hey, Tab,” Carwood called like he had to anyone he came across “have you seen Captain Speirs?” “Oh, have I!” Talbert huffed, palming his red face in evident frustration. “Up on the balcony with Sergeant Carson.” Carwood thanked him and hurried along. He knew fully well that Talbert didn’t much like Ron as his superior officer, but Carwood didn’t care. The less he had to share Ron with others, the better. When he approached the balcony, he heard laughter of two men. When he came up, he saw Ron with his buddy Carson, both leaning on the railing and sputtering with laughter, both with smoking pistols in their hands. Carwood didn’t have to wonder about that for long before Ron spotted him and his face brightened. “Lieutenant Lipton!” Ron cheerfully called out, quickly holstered his pistol and strode over to meet him. “Come, come, join us!” he gestured Carwood to him, while Carson by his side put his pistol in the holster as well and eyed him curiously. “I’ve been looking for you,” Carwood said as soon as he reached Ron’s side and the other threw his arm around his shoulders. “And I you! I’m, ah, a bit out of control right now, I’m afraid,” Ron said and laughed, “Insubordinate towards myself.” The comment caused him to laugh and Carson joined him, but what the joke was remained a mystery to Carwood. “Oh hey, did you manage to take some of the good stuff from Nixon?” Carson suddenly asked when he spotted the bottle Carwood was carrying and snatched it from his loose grip before he had the chance to answer. Carwood blinked and felt irritated, but Ron had him in a tight hold and the situation had already progressed past the question of who had brought the bottle. It was loot anyway and he had meant to share it, so Carwood bit his teeth together and let it go. “Well, not really. He recommended this and gave it to me,” he explained and from the corner of his eye saw Ron leaning over too to inspect the bottle. “It looks good,” Ron said, “Carson, don’t you dare to hog all of that to yourself!” Carson grinned at him and popped the cork. It flew over the railing and out of sight, and the champagne foamed and spilled. Carson made a yelping noise before raising the bottle to his mouth to save what he could of the spilling drink. Ron laughed at him when he chocked on the bubbles, then reached out to snatch the bottle from him. He let go of Carwood to smack the now coughing sergeant on his back while tipping the bottle back to take a drink himself. When he lowered the bottle, he grinned at Carwood while still pounding Carson over his back. “Some men can’t handle their drink,” he sniggered and smirked. They left the balcony and the building together, and Carson stuck between them and chattered away with Ron. Carwood didn’t mind Ron’s friends, but as of that moment he had a very clear idea where he wanted Ron, and it wasn’t here on the streets and not with anyone else. He thought he had gotten lucky when a group of enlisted men from Dog hollered and Carson went over to join them and waved his current companions goodbye. Carwood took Ron by the arm like they were simply very good friends and gave him a look that was so much more than that and started to lead him towards the hotel. They almost made it. In the lobby there was a crossing of two very different groups, one of officers and one of enlisted men. It would have otherwise been perfectly fine, but someone in both groups spotted Carwood and Ron, and both wanted one but not both of them. Carwood couldn’t keep holding onto Ron’s arm when Lieutenant Shames pulled him into a hug and then along to his officer buddies. Carwood hadn’t ever felt like he wasn’t accepted among the officers, not while being backed up by Captain Speirs and Major Winters, but he still had his closest friends among the enlisted men while Ron had made his buddies among the officers. There wasn’t a waterproof, innocent reason Carwood could think of that would have gotten them alone, so he chose to accept the defeat. When Skinny, Luz and Malarkey were pulling him along with them and back out, Carwood threw one last longing glance back at Ron, who was being roughhoused by Shames and Peacock, joined with officers from Dog company Carwood didn’t remember the names of. He watched Ron going for a round of playful wrestling among the officers before ending up next to Shames again. Carwood turned away. Carwood did enjoy the company and even joined the party wholeheartedly – how could he not? – but again and again he felt a tug of yearning that reminded him that he hadn’t celebrated the occasion with the one he really wanted. It was an all too familiar feeling that resembled loneliness even when he was surrounded by friends, and he felt its pull particularly strong tonight. There was also another feeling mixing in with the usual loneliness, something that rumbled in his heart and resembled hunger. With all the drinking and dancing and singing people were starting to drop by the small hours. Empty bottles lay around and the men who had emptied them usually not far off, and finally Carwood was the last one up. He lay a gentle look at Skinny snoring into Liebgott’s jacket while lying on top of him on the sofa, and at Luz in the middle of his new collection of vinyl records of German and Austrian opera, and then he was off. The dark streets were not empty even two in the morning, but most of the noise was contained inside houses with bright windows. The crisp night air cleared Carwood’s head and something thrilling made him shiver but flush at the same time. He hurried his steps, increasing his pace little by little until he was running, and he didn’t stop before he jumped the stairs up to the hotel’s entrance three at a time. He found Ron at the club on the first floor. It was a big hall of a room, entirely carpeted, full of groups of beautiful Austrian furniture, sofas and armchairs around low shining tables with crystal ashtrays, and with a whiskey bar in the back of the room. One wall was entirely windows lined with silk drapes, giving a breath-taking view out onto the mountains and valleys. Now the room was somewhat trashed, fancy glasses broken along with empty bottles and cigarette butts all over the floors and with the furniture rearranged along the whims of partying soldiers.

Ron was alone in the room, taking up a three-person sofa alone, slowly drinking brandy straight from the bottle with one foot on a table, gazing out of the windows.

Carwood sighed when he saw him. He felt relieved, but that hunger in his heart only ached deeper, so he approached.

Ron heard him coming and turned to see who it was, only he didn’t seem a bit surprised. He smiled against the bottle.

“I knew it was you from your breathing,” he said.

Carwood smiled back and didn’t say anything until he was close enough to touch Ron. When he was closer he noticed one of the windows was open, letting a slight breeze of mountain air in. The scent of the night was thrilling. He brushed his hand on Ron’s shoulder, feeling its curve against him palm and squeezed it.

Ron leaned his head back and peered up at Carwood.

Carwood smiled back down at him, until he spotted something he didn’t like.

“That’s not your jacket,” he said.

Ron hummed like he didn’t at first know what he was talking about, but then he glanced at his jacket and huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah, this is Ed’s. I don’t even know where mine is – with him, I guess? It’s going to be in an unholy condition when I get it back…”

Usually Carwood would have laughed, but tonight he didn’t feel like it. The long night and the distance he had run just to be here were still fresh on his mind, and here Ron sat, wearing another man’s jacket.

“Take it off,” Carwood ordered. He hadn’t planned to say it and didn’t recognize his voice when it came out of his mouth, but the second it did he knew it was the right thing to say. He clutched a fistful of the material. “Now.”

Ron huffed something like he thought it was stupid, but he did set the bottle aside and shook Shames’ jacket off. He was wearing his own shirt underneath at least, but Carwood noted the amount of undone buttons and a few that were in wrong buttonholes.

When Ron shed the jacket, Carwood circled the sofa to stand in front of it, took the jacket and tossed it aside. He checked once again that they were alone in the grand room, that it was dark and silent, and then in a swift move straddled Ron on the sofa.

“Huh,” Ron said like this was a pleasant surprise he wasn’t quite processing yet and glanced Carwood over in his lap. He lifted one hand and patted Carwood’s side in an awkwardly friendly gesture.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” Carwood said, peering down at Ron, whose eyes flicked up to his when he spoke.

A slow smile crept on Ron’s face. “You missed me,” he teased.

“Yes,” Carwood said simply, not in the mood to play coy or play any games. He brushed Ron’s hair from his eyes, touched gentle fingers to his ear, his jaw and his chin, pressing a thumb to his plush lower lip. “Did you miss me? At all?”

Ron sighed and his hands came to rest on Carwood’s hips. “I guess,” he said and grinned.

Carwood tilted his head and pressed his thumb on Ron’s beautiful mouth slightly harder. “Did you really?” he asked again. “There were lots of men here, how did you know to miss just one?” Even thinking that made a bitter taste bite in the back of his throat, and speaking it aloud stung.

Ron just smiled. He might have been drunk, but there was a mischievous, knowing look in his eyes and his hands flexed on Carwood’s hips. “Oh, I don’t know,” he started, his voice light and teasing, “I’m not sure I remember, actually. But there’s this one guy who just is different from everyone else… There’s this thing he does, I think… Something that only he knows how to do, but it seems that I can’t recall what it was.”

“Oh?” Carwood replied, “do tell if it comes back to you.” He squeezed Ron between his thighs and rocked in his lap, fitting himself snuggly against him. The yearning that had possessed him all night was still there, and it felt like he couldn’t press against Ron’s belly and crotch firmly enough, so he had to rock back and do it all over again.

Under him Ron sighed and slumped down on the sofa, sinking into the cushion. His head tilted back against the backrest and he spread his legs more, and his hands that had been lazy and idle curled around Carwood’s hips and held on when he moved.

Carwood rocked back and forth and kept his rhythm slow and the movement shallow. He never wanted to be too far from Ron and never wanted to stop feeling him against him, but at the same time he did want to move.

He supported himself on the backrest of the sofa and kept moving, and with the rhythm and the languid lull of his hips felt almost like he was dancing.

“Is this something only that one special guy does?” he muttered.

There was a deep blush rising to Ron’s face and he was definitely hard under the tempting grind, but still he smirked and seemed to want to play. “It’s like I can… almost remember. Not sure, though, might have been someone else,” he said even when his line was interrupted by the shuddering inhales he took without seemingly meaning to.

Carwood sank his fingers in Ron’s hair and pushed it back. He leaned over him, and Ron’s eyes were heavy-lidded but sharply inspecting him. Carwood couldn’t wait or tease any longer, simply bent down to kiss him.

He kissed Ron firmly and once and made sure it would feel like a challenge, then pulled back an inch. Ron’s hips gave a buck and he tried to follow Carwood’s mouth, but when he pulled too far back he gave up and just pouted at him.

“I think that’s it,” Ron said in a breathless, low voice.

It was Carwood’s turn to smile with satisfaction. He stroked his fingers through Ron’s hair and leaned over him again. “Yeah? What is?”

Ron flicked his tongue out to lick his lips, and Carwood couldn’t help but to think he was readying himself for him.

“I think there’s only one guy who sits in my lap and kisses me silly,” Ron stated like he had only now connected the dots. He reached for Carwood’s face with one hand and cupped his cheek. “Oh look, there you are.”

It was like a thread had snapped, and Carwood couldn’t stop himself from diving in. He kissed Ron like he needed him to breathe, like he was air and water and salvation, and the deep hunger in his heart consumed the desire that was both sparked and satisfied in the kiss. He held Ron’s face with both hands when he moved his lips over his and licked into his mouth, tasting brandy. He tilted his head into a better angle so that he could kiss him even deeper, so firm and deep that it made him ache, and even that wasn’t enough.

The night with all of its roaring joy had felt incomplete without this, without Ron here with him like this, and spending something this important apart had felt like an affront. Carwood couldn’t get enough, he felt a desperation growing inside him like a hungry flame in dry grass, and the only way to tame it was to touch Ron. He kissed his mouth over and over again, then in a spur of tenderness his cheek, his jaw and then down his neck. He yanked the buttons of his shirt open to reveal more warm, smooth skin for him to worship, and with each kiss came a flood of thoughts he couldn’t stop.

This was Ron, his Ron, his dearest one who was more important to him than anyone else, and Ron was here with him, only him, for him…

Ron jolted and hissed. “Ow.”

Carwood snapped out of his heated thoughts and pulled back. Ron touched the side of his neck with his fingers, then frowned up at Carwood.

“Did you just bite me?” he asked.

With a start Carwood realized that he had, and just like that he returned to himself from the almost ravenous state his mind had wandered into. “Oh! Oh, no – I mean, yes, but I didn’t mean to… Christ, did I hurt you? That’s too far, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have…”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Ron quieted him and petted his thigh for good measure. He touched his neck again, then looked up to Carwood with unreadable eyes. “You really missed me, huh?”

Carwood blushed and bit his lip, nodding. “Yeah.”

Ron narrowed his eyes and studied him. “All those other guys pawing me and hogging me for themselves didn’t make you too happy, did it?”

Carwood bowed his head. “No.”

Ron hummed, deep in his chest and clearly satisfied, then relaxed back into the sofa, exposing the beautiful, tan neck. “More of that, please.”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #speirton #mun ficci

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jenni42085 · 4 years

Text

Love in the Time of Corona <Three>

Three.

Scott and Chris greet Nico and Colton as they come back inside from the cold. Even though Nico is in Colton’s hoodie she still looks cold and shaken a little, but she has a smile on her face so maybe everything is ok.

“We all good now?” Scott asks giving Colton a slightly dirty look.

“Yeah, we are good just had to have a sibling chat about being over protective.” Nico says giving Colton a look with a small smile.

Chris nods his head in understanding. “Overprotective is not a bad thing. Sometimes it is needed.” He gives Colton a smile to let him know he gets it.

“I’m sorry Chris and Nico.” Colton replies. “I just worried and shouldn’t because we are adults who are out of their twenties and know how to act.”

“Agreed”. The three replied.

Nico gives her brother a hug then pulls away excitedly from him to tell him good news. “Guess what was made last night… well this morning and is ready to eat?”

“Pepperoni rolls!” Colton replies excitedly.

She nods her head and walks over to the kitchen. She proudly pulls out 4 rolls wraps them in a paper towel then put it in microwave for thirty seconds.

The smells of freshly baked bread and melting mozzarella cheese fills the room making everyone’s mouth water. Nico proudly put a roll on a paper plate and then in front of everyone. Scott and Chris look at the delicious roll, while Colton digs in and moans at the taste.

“Sis, it has been wayyy too long of me not having one. It’s so good.” Colton says. “ Babe what do you think?”

With his mouth full of food, “Oh wow! Nico this is absolutely amazing! I’m going to probably need another one.”

“Hey! Save the rest of us some!” Colton says as Scott heats up another roll.

Nico looks at Chris as he is eating, waiting to hear him say something. “Well, Chris . . . What do you think?”

Chris looks up from his roll and gives her a genuine smile that made her heart stop. “It’s amazing. I had fun helping you make this. It’s so simple but wow.”

Nico leans across the island and smiles back at him with pride. She can’t help but feel proud when everyone was complimenting her baking. Thankfully they know she can carry her weight around the house.

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

Mid afternoon rolls around and Nico decided that it was time for a nap. After the last few days she needed sometime to just fully unwind and not feel so stressed out. When she packed her paci originally she didn’t think she would really need a few things like this but she is glad she did.

She closes the door and grabs her fuzzy Hello Kitty blanket and her sea foam green pacifier. Nico was a little and needed to be in little space for a little bit because she was feeling overwhelmed and didn’t want an anxiety attack.

It’s something she has been doing for a few years with very few of her friends knowing. Age regression wasn’t something she was ashamed of but some people just wouldn’t get it and instead of explaining she just never told anyone. It was her own little secret from the world. She had gotten into it from an old boyfriend who was her daddy and realized she loved being little, just didn’t love him.

After pulling off her leggings she snuggles with her blanket wrapped around her arm and under her head with her paci in her mouth and falls to sleep. Aside from having Chris snuggle with her the night before, this is what helps her sleep and feel safe. She just hopes that she won’t have the urge to be little the majority of her time there. Not sure if Colton can handle anymore surprises.

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

Chris has finished up his last meeting for the day and was curious to see what Nico was up to. He appreciated the fact that she could keep herself entertained instead of being loud and crazy like Scott and Colton.

When he didn’t see her in the common areas he figured she was in her room. He knocked on the door two times and no answer so he slowly opens the door. What he saw shocked him a little bit.

Nico was fast asleep with the blanket she had last night and a pacifier in her mouth. From the way she was breathing it was a very deep sleep. Chris admired how peaceful and beautiful she looked while she slept. He was still curious about the pacifier but figured he would ask a later date.

Part of the reason was because obviously she wanted her and the pacifier to be private hence why she was in her room with the door shut and not on the couch as before. And the other part he wasn’t sure if her brother knew anything about it and didn’t really want another confrontation.

So he did what he usually does outside of Googling. . .

Chris: Hey guys I have a question.

RDJ: Ok then what is it,

Chris: She is sleeping with a pacifier. That’s not normal but I want to know why but don’t want to ask her.

Hemsworth: Well, maybe she just has like a secret addiction.

RDJ: Highly unlikely.

Sebastian: Maybe she is a little.

Chris: A little what ?

Sebastian: Umm how do I put this . . . She is submissive and like the idea of being a little girl with a ‘Dom Daddy’.

RDJ: Do I want to know why you know this?

Hemsworth: I can already figure why he knows this.

Sebastian: Look I’ve dated some interesting ladies. A little is actually nice and they call you Daddy 🍆🍆

As Chris reads this he tries to run through all the things that she might have done or said to prove that she is one. He does know that she does likes rainbows, unicorns, and glitter but that doesn’t make him think she is a little.

Chris: So dating a little? How does it even work?

Sebastian: Pretty easy to a certain point. Rules, punishments, and rewards. The one I was with worked a normal job and everything but a few days a week when she got home she would regress and I would take care of her.

Chris: And punishment as in. . . ?

Sebastian: Spanking, sitting in the corner, or maybe ignoring her for a few hours. It was odd she hated that one the most. But man, calling her a good girl or kitten would be her undoing.

RDJ: Seb you are a weird little man. How did you find her?

Sebastian: I didn’t know she was when we first met. She eased me into it. It was fun.

Chris: Ok then. I’ll have to do some research.

Chris closed out his messages and decided to take Dodger outside so he could run off some energy. The dog had become fond of Nico since he would follow her around and was even sitting outside her door while she slept. Good to know he wasn’t the only one fond of her.

While walking outside with his dog he hit another text message privately from Sebastian.

S: Hey it sounds like you are still unsure about her. Here is a few links about the lifestyle.

C: Thanks. I really have been enjoying her company. And if that is what she is into I can be her ‘daddy’. Just not sure how her brother would handle it.

S: He doesn’t need to know about what she like to do in and out of the bedroom. And it’s not like she wants to be walked around on a leash. Just likes to be submissive and care free.

C: I know. Maybe it is a coping skill that helps with her anxiety.

S: She has anxiety! That is probably a driving force. It helps them to relax and not worry about the things that are bothering her. Also it helps her to sort through her feelings a bit.

C: That’s a different way to cope but who am I to talk?

S: Exactly. If you really want to see if she is. Offer her something off your fork or spoon. If she doesn’t want to tell her to “be a good girl and have some” and if she does say she’s “a good girl” and see how she reacts.

C: Sounds incredibly sexist and might piss her off.

S: Maybe so but there is a time and place for it all. And if she is. She’ll go for it.

C: Idk man. That just seems extreme but I might try it. Just to see.

S: I mean she is sleeping with a pacifier . . . I feel like that’s a pretty clear indication. Hell you might like it too! Being a daddy is fun.

Chris shakes his head then looks at the link that he was sent. Scrolling through it and reading it made him feel unsure but excited by the idea of being a dom daddy and not just in the bedroom.

He would be lying to himself that he didn’t enjoy being in control and making his female at the time cum when he said it was ok. The idea of Nico under him and calling him ‘daddy’ made him hard. He could see her with pigtails and her large brown eyes looking so big and expressive wanting and begging for him.

Scott came outside and made Chris shake his thoughts of Nico doing naughty things. He feels like he is going to need a cold shower after all those thoughts

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

Nico woke up from her nap after an intense sex dream with Chris. She was dreaming about having him as her ‘daddy’. She dreamed of wearing pigtails and glasses and just begging for snuggles and then it transitioned into something different. It has been a few years since she had sex. So maybe she was slightly overdue.

Dinner was uneventful thankfully. Granted thorough out the meal Nico would look at him while he wasn’t paying attention and vice versa. By the end of the meal she was squirming with semi damp panties. Really wishing he knew that side of her.

When Chris saw Nico with her hair in pigtails at the dinner table it made him hard instantly and was thankful that they were at the table. She would unconsciously twirl her hair around her finger while talking. As innocent as she was doing it the thoughts both of them had were not so innocent but neither knew what the other was thinking.

Scott and Colton had went to bed early since both had early morning meeting, leaving Chris and Nico alone with each other. While they were making their exit Nico had changed out of her contacts and once again put her unicorn glitter glasses along with shorts, cami, and over the knee socks.

Chris almost lost it when he saw her come out with the glasses and the pigtails from his fantasy. They had watched one episode of Rick and Morty then he decided that he would try as Seb had suggested. He grabbed a peaches and cream fruit cup and starting eating it.

“Oh wow this is really good! You should try some.” He said getting her attention.

She shifted from sitting criss cross applesauce on the furtherest most part of the couch to standing and moving closer to him to sit. Her nose scrunched at the cup. “What is that?”

“It’s a peaches and cream fruit cup. Do you want to try some? Here?” He states as he offers the spoon to her.

“Ummm no thanks. I’m good right now it does smell yummy though.”

“Ohh come on be a good girl. I don’t have cooties.” He replied calmly. He waits to see her expression to making the comment.

Nico tried to have a poker face but hearing ‘good girl’ struck a nerve. Her eyes got larger and she wanted to be a good girl too she scoots closer to him and open her mouth to the spoon he is offering her. He was right it was really good. As soon as she accepted the spoon Chris replied. “That’s a good girl. Yummy right?”

Without thinking Nico fell back into little space making her voice get softer. “Yes daddy it was delicious. Thank you.” After she realized what she said to him she blushed hard and got up to leave embarrassed by saying something so private out loud.

Chris picked up on her shock and embarrassment and realized he had to do be a Dom daddy at that moment. “Kitten? Did I say you could leave? We still have the rest of the fruit cup to finish so come here and eat it with me please.”

Nico nodded her head going back into little space. “Yes sir.” She sat back down on the couch close but far enough away from Chris. She felt her chest getting tight but figured for the night being little with him might not be too bad. It has been a while since she had a daddy.

“Would you like another bite of it?” He asked. She nodded at him. “Use your words kitten.” Despite not having done this before he was easily falling into the role. Later on he will have to thank Seb for the links that he sent because he probably would have messed it up without a little bit f studying.

“Yes sir.”

“Such a good girl.” He replied while feeding her another spoonful.

Soon enough the fruit cup was empty and the two sat there still watching Rick and Morty. Chris figured that she would try to run again but she didn’t. She sat there quietly, obviously processing everything that has just happened. While she was processing it all he pulls her into his lap.

Feeling so confused about what happened stressed Nico out but then suddenly relaxed when he pulled her into his lap. She shocked herself by not even pulling away, she just let him do it. He smelled amazing and she felt like she could stay like this forever. He sensed her body was slightly tense still so he rubbed her back and stroked her pigtails. A small yawn escaped her.

“Are you tired?” He asked her.

“Just a little bit.” She replied fighting the urge to fall asleep in his arms.

He looked at the clock and realized it was almost midnight so it is time for bed. He thought about what to do next. Putting her to bed was the option but wasn’t sure if her bed or his bed. She looked so beautiful in his arms she looked up at him with her large brown eyes and didn’t want her to sleep alone or her to be woken up with her brother.

“OK, lets go to bed.” He stated firmly but calmly. The tone of his voice was everything for her. She was about to pull herself away from his lap but he still held her close. “Do you want your pacifier before we go to bed?”

She was pleased by hearing him ask her if she wanted her paci. It has helped her sleep times than she cares to admit. “Yes please.”

He lets her stand up, “Ok kitten go get it and whatever else you need to go to sleep. Come back to my room. You have 5 minutes.” And with a lite tap on her bottom Nico was quickly walking to her room.

While she was gone Chris turned off the tv and the lights and headed to his room. He couldn’t believe she was little, but didn’t know really where to go from there. At this point he figured he would play it by ear. As if on time to knowing he needed some more help.

S: So did you try it? Is she a little?

C: Yes. And she is most definitely one.

S: Nice! So what all have you done together?

C: After she ate off the spoon I cuddled her. She relaxed a lot in my lap. I told her it was bedtime and I told her she was sleeping in my room tonight. She is currently going and getting her pacifier and blanket.

S: Look at you. Like a duck to water. How does this make you feel?

C: Excited to a certain point then nervous. I don’t want to do it wrong or hurt her.

S: Gotcha and understandable. If you just remember her mind set isn’t of an adult but a child. Might wanna ask her what her little age is.

C: That seems like a lot. But I like her and am willing to try this whole thing out.

S: You got this. You can most def be her dom daddy.

Chris locks his phone then looks at his clock. One more minute then I’m getting her. Before he could get up to head to her room she comes running in with her blanket and pacifier in hand.

While she was gone she had changed to an oversized shirt that barely covered her thighs and kept the socks on. Seeing her made him mentally groan with satisfaction.

“I’m back sir with one minute to spare.” Nico said softly.

Chris stood up and towered over her making her feel small but safe. He puts a finger under her chin. “Good job kitten. But from now on you call me daddy or sir when we are alone. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Nico rubs her eyes again with a small yawn. “Can we go to bed now? I’m really tired.”

“Come on daddy’s tired too.” He says cheerfully but still slightly tired.

Nico gets in the soft cool sheets, she uses her blanket as a pillow and blanket like always. Chris take her pacifier from her and examines it. He pulls the covers over her. He crawls in bed next to her and she moves closer for warmth.

“Are you warm enough?” He asks as she buries her head into his chest.

“Yes sir. It’s perfect not to hot or to cold.”

Nico closed her eyes feeling very comfortable with him. Comfortable not only because she was tired but for the fact that he was accepting her little. She lets another yawn come out and Chris puts the pacifier in her mouth. She slowly sucks it into her mouth letting her tongue come out in a very erotic fashion.

She fully relaxes once she has her paci. As she was closing her eyes Chris pulls her paci from her mouth. Making her whine a little bit.

“Daddy?” She said in a voice just above a whisper.

“Kitten, I forgot a good night kiss.” He replies in a seductive voice. He leans in and cups her face. First a kiss on the forehead then the nose and finally her lips. When they connected both felt no longer tired but aroused.

Her arms went around his neck and his hands traveled and cupped her bottom. He nips at her lip a little causing her to moan. Chris wanted to kiss her from top to bottom but pulls himself away and once again kisses her nose then forehead.

“Good night kitten.”

“Good night daddy.”

#chris evans x black reader #chris evans x poc!reader #Chris Evans X black!reader

17 notes · View notes

ddaenghoney · 4 years

Text

chapter eleven

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): none; just that sweet, sweet character growth.

Word count: 5302

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

You slide two fingers along the trackpad of your laptop, scrolling to the next page of song lyrics that you just finished the evening before. A more somber mix of words to fit the ballad that the group needed for their next album. You rub your jaw as you count syllables, checking the rhyme scheme, then your head tilts as you begin to discern whether the whole thing sounds understandable. Though the track’s ambiguous nature gives it character, deluding the true intention entirely isn’t what you want.

“You know,” Your eyes narrow at the interruption Namjoon’s voice brings, along with some cups of variously colored froths. He hunches over the bartop casually doodling art atop the latte’s white foam top as he continues along, “I think you should take a lawyer with you this time around.”

“What’s the point if I’m just going to resign to, likely, the same terms as before?” You sigh, curling a lock of hair around your finger as you think about the meeting upcoming in a few days. If it was like the first one there would only be Yerin, her secretary, and the company’s primary lawyer that wrote out the first contract.

“But that’s what I’m saying; if you bring along your own lawyer, then they can help argue some change.” He says in a small voice that’s mostly focused with perfecting the lines of a dog image. “It can’t hurt to try, right?”

“She’s just so dead set against any of what I’ve said about receiving credit before though.” You mumble, trying to get back to your own work with hope that he’ll drop the topic that he’s been bringing up periodically ever since you received notice of the meeting.

“You’ve worked for them for five years now.” Namjoon lifts up his head from the design, eyes decisively staring into your own as he speaks with conviction, “They owe you change, even if it isn’t a complete one-eighty from how things have gone so far. They’re shitty people if they don’t treat you like a human by this point.”

You smile at him, dryly speaking the reality, “They’re a business.”

“They’re only doing well because of you. That’s undeniable.” He smiles in return, bringing forth a bit of pride for you as his friend. Namjoon straightens up, stretching his arms as he nudges the drink towards you, “If you threaten to leave then maybe they’ll change their mind about the contract? Here take this, I’m still not good at this kind of latte art.”

Your chin rests on your palm while you glance to the drink. It presents a cute fluffy blue dog, with admittedly oddly positioned eyes. You refrain from laughter. “Looks better than the flower you tried last week. Thanks, Joon.”

Namjoon nods, moving the cups off with a smile as he turns to the sink behind him. Figuring he’s bugged you enough about the lawyer idea for the day he leaves it be, returning to the atmosphere before as he turns down the bar while Jinsol exits with two plates of food for customers.

“Yoongi was also telling me that I should get a lawyer.” You say on your own, not thinking that you could potentially give Namjoon hope that you’ll eventually agree with the two of them by keeping the conversation going. He turns back to you, wiping his hands dry on a rag. “Even said he’d get his lawyer friend to go with me if I wanted. Someone named Kim Taehyung.”

“How much does he charge?”

“Yoongi said he’d do it for free as a favor to him,” You shrug, taking a slow sip of the drink to see if it was too hot. “They’re good friends and have known each other for awhile.” Namjoon nods, arms crossing as his eyebrows furrow in consideration to the news. “But you and Yoongi need to stop acting like Yerin won’t just drop me if I start talking about changing the contract this seriously.”

“Y/N, you’ve given them more than ninety percent of their musical repertoire. That’d be the most idiotic business decision she could make.” Namjoon frowns, trying to find a reason for why you’re unable to see how much of an asset you are for SoundWave even though they treat you oppositely.

“And I’d take away one hundred percent of their reputation if the public finds out how much I have to do with that, Joon.” You trace the circumference of the ceramic with your index finger, eyeing the art that had further disfigured after you took a sip. “They can go on without me involved, and there’s no reason to keep me if I’m just going to destroy everything they’ve worked for. Cost-benefit analysis is what they call it in the business world, right?”

“Well, no, but close enough,” Namjoon leans back against the counter. “To be honest, even if they give you just a few pieces credited here and there, that would be a big improvement, don’t you think? You could start there.”

You nod, hearing your phone vibrate beside your laptop to alert you of a text, but ignoring it so you can explain the most recent nail in your coffin. “But since I’m now ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ any credits they give to me are going to look suspicious as hell.” You watch Namjoon blink evidently not considering that idea before. He all the sudden sighs gruffly and rubs his neck,

“Fuck, I bet that CEO did that on purpose too.” You nod as his bitterly spoken assessment, having come to that conclusion previously. Considering how frighteningly calculative Yerin is, that’s definitely within the scope of possibility. “She really pisses me off, Y/N.”

“Me too, but, fuck, she does her job well, right?” You huff and then take another long gulp of the latte while Namjoon’s head shakes slowly in contemplation. “I can see why the board lets her handle so much stuff independently of them. She has everything figured out.”

A part of you is willing to believe she set the past five years up like a chess board, strategizing from the advent of their song contest. Perhaps only looking for one or two interesting enough songwriters to trap into the pawn slots and lead the company to success at exponential rates. The lens that seemed clairvoyant and absent of illusion in the pitch to work longer in the company, all selected carefully to tie into the bigger picture Yerin created.

With how finely woven the company is, collectively seemed together to stop the outside from seeing what truly goes on behind the scenes, it’s almost believable in retrospect that Yerin had this picture in mind from the beginning.

You’d like to think there are things unforeseeable, however. Hopeful in that respect, though you can’t grasp a thought of what would shake up Yerin’s disposition so that she would agree to new terms in your contract.

“Maybe I’ll take Yoongi up on his offer…” You ponder aloud, not catching Namjoon’s eyes open wider with excitement at your voice. You finally go to your phone, checking it to see a new message,

Yoongi, 4:56pm: If you’re not busy can you call me?

“You should.” Namjoon’s blurt is out into the air as an uncontainable rambling. One loud enough to catch the attention of other patrons if only for a quick glance. You smile at your friend’s eagerness to jump onto that little sway of opinion, watching him nod longer. “If you’re dealing with legal stuff you should involve a lawyer-- even if you don’t think it’ll help. Why not, right?”

“Legal ‘stuff’, huh?” You giggle when Namjoon rolls his eyes smiling despite you cutting him off to tease. “He wants me to call him, so I’ll ask.”

“Wants you to?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, though the lightness of his lips insinuate he’s somehow pleased with your news. It’s your turn to roll your eyes, and then attempt shooing Namjoon off with your hand, but he doesn’t budge as he questions with a large smile forming, “Bet he misses you like you miss him-”

“Stop, you know it isn’t like that.” Your lips frown, wishing he wouldn’t bring that subject up even as a joke. Namjoon’s lips clamp, but his teasing expression remains, seemingly undeterred by your weak rebuttal. “Not actually dating, Joon.” Namjoon only nods to which you sigh, shifting on the stool to face slightly away from him. “He probably just wants to complain about it being cold where he’s at.”

“Okay,” Namjoon nods again, stepping once down the bar to start assisting with a newly entered party. “Warm him up with your voice then-”

“Fuck off!” You watch him scamper off like a startled cat, and shake your head at him hitting his hip against the corner of the bar. You bite your lip when Namjoon glances back at you with a pained expression from the collision, but nonetheless gives you a thumbs up to cheer you on in your phone call endeavor even though you think he’s acting ridiculous.

It takes only a moment to open the message thread with Yoongi, then click into the contact information to call. You skim through the lines on your laptop screen as quickly as you are able to while the line buzzes in wait. Three beeps and Yoongi’s voice registers in an answer,

“Hello?” He sounds somewhat puzzled and surprised and there’s a small moment that you think you should’ve texted him first, but you go ahead and respond,

“Hey, you wanted me to call?” The screen before you becomes a blur, its shine leading you to shut it close as you listen in on Yoongi’s voice when he says back sheepishly,

“I did, yeah. Just because I’m kind of bored here,” His volume lowers into a mumble as he goes on, making you smile gently. “Ah, but if you’re busy then don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not. Just looking over some lyrics, but I’ve been messing with them since yesterday practically nonstop, so I should probably take a break.”

Yoongi hums, recalling the texts back and forth the day before where you’d mentioned the words not sounding just right. Lying back into the armchair in the green room, he stretches an arm, voice as comforting to your ears as usual, “You at least went to sleep though, right?”

“Yeah,” You tighten your lips after the response, feeling a beat pass as you try and mumble the next part quickly and quietly, “At four, but-”

“Four?” Yoongi chuckles begrudgingly, rubbing his face with his hand, and then sighs in discontentment, “You’re worse than I am.”

“Is that a compliment?” You ask him innocently, trying to navigate away from the potential reprimand for your sleeping habits as if you hadn’t done the same in response to some of the unruly hours Yoongi has said he’s fallen asleep at too. He just laughs on the other side of the line, causing you to bite your lip and try a new conversation that you’re sure would be something he’d react to like Namjoon, “About the lawyer friend of yours… Do you think he’d still be available for the meeting?”

---

Kim Taehyung stands pleasantly in the lobby of the company when you arrive days later. He greets you with a bright smile that makes you wonder if he can actually be as intimidating as Yoongi stated he is in contractual meetings. With his perfectly wrinkle-free suit, clearly tailored for himself, and luxuriously bronze leather suitcase, you can at least say his appearance is telling enough that his finances at least back-up a success record.

“So just to make sure we’re on the same page from the conversation on the phone,” He gestures for you to enter the elevator before himself as he speaks, following you along inside. “I’m here mostly for appearances, correct?”

“Well,” Your voice is high, smile sheepish from the verbiage used to describe Taehyung’s involvement, “Yeah-- but I’d still like to argue a little for it, but,” You pause, thinking that your own disposition seems weak and not positive for the outlook you want to search for in this meeting. “I just don’t want them to fire me for arguing too much, if that makes sense.”

“Although it’s certainly not proper for them to fire you for something as common as negotiating the terms of your contract, I understand why you’re apprehensive to speaking up about it because of the inherent hierarchical differences between you and the CEO. Nevertheless, I’ll take your lead for how much you would like to push for adjustments.” Taehyung speaks with ease, words flowing like silk. Relaxing as it is to have someone like him ready to discuss details on your behalf, you still find the idea daunting.

Even if by some grand means you succeed in somehow regaining all the rights to songs you write and music produced, what will that make the company think of you? Beyond Yerin and the board of directors, exists coworkers you know fondly, some as friends, and some simply respected. People with their own ambitions and work that they try to build high like yourself, and now you stand in an elevator on the way to an office to potentially crack the glass of the established.

As you exit from the elevator on the top floor, Yerin’s head secretary rises from her desk with a smile of familiarity. She gestures across from her to empty waiting chairs, stating pleasantly that Yerin is currently busy, but the meeting is expected to go on as scheduled. You simply nod at her words, sitting in the seats with Taehyung while your mind wraps around the situation about to unfold.

You aren’t so naive to believe that she’ll shut you up from the first word of contention, but where beyond that she’ll let it wander is unknown to you. It’s unimaginable that Yerin’s face would even concave with any shock or fret about this topic, because there’s never been a moment that you’ve witnessed her out of control. The way that the company operates, is organized, stays on top is thanks to her collectiveness. Ethical or not.

Your phone buzzes, jolting nerves across your spine that collected in tense shoulders.

Yoongi, 1:57pm: Hopefully you’re not already in the meeting room, but I just wanted to tell you it’ll all be okay no matter what happens.

You exhale through your lips, reaching to fiddle with your hair as a smile tries to force its way on your lips.

Y/N, 1:58pm: About to go in. Thank you so much Yoon.

“Ms. Y/N,” Your eyes lift from your phone as the secretary calls out to you, “She’ll be ready in just a moment.”

You begin to nod, smile politely in return though the action freezes when the doors to Yerin’s office open. Because of the oddness of coincidences, you stare in a stunned silence as black boots clatter on the tile while Jimin walks out of the office, bowing his head in goodbye to those in the room as he does so. Profanity of different calibers jumble around in your mind, rising in internal volume as the door behind him shuts and Jimin’s eyes find your person.

A moment feels like it freezes, as though crossing paths is unheard of to the both of you. In reality, you’ve both spoken to one another since the party, as short and dismissive the comments in various meetings were. But outside of that space, there’s something unnatural about passing along each other still. You know it’s mutually felt, because Jimin’s eyes remain on you longer than they should, returning your stare that unconsciously questioned what he would do.

Then you wonder why he left Yerin’s office to begin with. Though she is not absent of communication with employees, the setting appears more formal, rather than a casual check on how he’s been. With his manager nowhere to be seen, it leaves the question unanswered as Jimin finally steps along.

Returning focuz from you, he goes to the elevator unspoken. Like he would’ve months ago while you were both secretly involved, but in the current time, it leaves your throat with a tiny knot. Words and actions of the party flash through your mind, and you try to shake it off when the sound of the elevator dings off to your side. You just look at your phone,

Yoongi, 2:00pm: Let me know how things go afterwards, I’ll be here to listen.

Jimin steps into the elevator, turning on his heel to face the front and reach to click the button to his floor. His eyes moves reflexively towards you once more, curious of why you sit evidently waiting to speak to Yerin. He bites his lip, worrying in his thoughts of what she had just mentioned to him, but the tension in his jaw subsides as he takes in your expression. A soft curl of your lips gazing down at your phone, reminiscent of times in the past, Jimin can’t help but remember in that moment.

As the elevator door shuts, he feels every morsel of air filling in his chest that wants to be expelled, but his lips stay in a blank line, while Jimin stares at his blurry silhouette reflected in the elevator door. He has no right to feel the prickling that fights with the oxygen in his lungs, but the image of your brightened expression is infectious to his focus in a way that doesn’t feel good. Regretful.

Jimin shakes his head, sighing as long as possible. He watches the reflection’s arm move with his own as he strokes back his hair, suddenly hit with a harder wave of that emotion. The emotion that was never about you and always about himself. Unchanged still, as he learned from that meeting that went absolutely no where he wanted it to but to further doubt his own capabilities in his career.

He blinks, lips pursing into a frown only to stop a groan from escaping. He instead clicks his tongue, stretching his neck as the elevator stops on his floor. No matter what you’re there for, Jimin hopes you get what you want out of it. The thought strikes him into a standstill when he steps through the door. Jimin’s lips part, wondering why the selfishness escaped from his mind just like that.

In the waiting area before Yerin’s office, the secretary rises as a man exits the elevator. You know from past times that he’s the head contract lawyer, and the memories of his snarky way of speaking nearly cause your eyes to roll outright, but you just hold it in exhaling a breath instead. Taehyoung looks through his phone beside you, presumably through his calendar from your vague glimpse to it, so he’s unaware of the lawyer feet away casting him a look that turns into a stunned stair.

Your eyebrow raises in interest, gathering that in one way or another through the lawyer community, you suppose, that he recognizes Taehyung. You leave it be to speculation, not taking the initiative to alert Taehyung to the lawyer’s somewhat hostile stare because he quickly scampers off into Yerin’s office anyways.

Any kind of reputation to garner that reaction you’re happy with, if you’re honest. That lawyer always pissed you off with his disrespectful deposition anyways.

“Ms. Baek is ready for you both now.”

Taehyung stands before you, doing nothing to question the long sigh that you make. Gathering that you loathe the meeting and are evidently nervous, he thinks the reaction is rather common. Still he’s encouraging when you finally stand beside him, smiling optimistically at you with a thumbs up acted out with his free hand.

The contrast of the other lawyer’s reaction to how mellow Taehyung acts towards you makes you snicker, and return the thumbs up. A little lighter on your feet from his easy to along with personality and Yoongi’s gently comforting texts, you lead the way this time, entering through the doorway as the secretary politely opens it for the two of you.

“So he was her to represent Ms. Y/N, after all.” Nam Dohyun greets the two of you before Yerin who sits calmly in her desk chair ignoring the jab-like remark of her lawyer. “Kim Taehyung independently representing two of our employees now. How coincidental, I wonder if you’ve asked your other client to hand out business cards for you.”

You think the argumentative way Dohyun speaks to Taehyung is odd, considering the fact that meetings like this tend to have outside lawyers assist the employees. Up until now, you’ve likely been one of the odd few who have refrained from seeking independent advice, so perhaps there’s animosity in the business relationship between the two that you don’t know about. You assume the other client Dohyun referred to is Yoongi, which allows your mind to speculate shortly that in the merger maybe there had been alterations made in Yoongi’s contract or other negotiations. Definitely something if Taehyung is already seen in a threatening manner as Dohyun leads you to believe.

“Referrals only, actually.” Taehyung smiles pleasantly, though rather feigned as Dohyun and you feel the chill he sends out. Yerin sighs, standing from her desk,

“Mr. Nam, watch your tone.” She gestures with her hand to the long table set aside for smaller meetings such as this one. “Let’s continue this there, since there are more people than anticipated.”

“This should be a short meeting, I believe.” Dohyun speaks first as the two parties sit across from one another. He reaches into his suitcase to bring about the paperwork as he continues along. “Because there’s been no true push for change, I’m happy to assume that the terms of your contract are still very suitable to what you want out of your position here, ma’am. Financially, I’m positive it will only become more lucrative as the company continues to grow and your royalties continue gathering how more money than someone such as yourself would know what to do with.”

Your lips tighten into a line as Dohyun’s insulting, calm voice rambles irritably along. Refraining from showcasing the annoyance, you try to keep your mind occupied on Yerin as she sits across from you poised. Her eyes follow the path the contract makes across the table, and she’s empty of fervent emotions, simply monitoring the ordeal until her voice is needed.

Taehyung slides the top copy in front of you, while he takes the bottom one for himself to skim through. You finally break away from trying to extract any information about the state of Yerin’s attitude from her expressions, and join in a fast read through. Entirely similar to the first one you signed years earlier, but the percentage of earning through royalties is raised by a considerable margin.

You consider its new amount as a move from Yerin. She knows you’re dissatisfied, and even if Dohyun acts oblivious to that fact, you believe the entire board would have information about the fact. So this increase in revenue, which would tremendously strengthen your financial assets is put in place as an attempt to nullify your mouth. Maybe Yerin thinks money is where the discontentment stems from.

“I’m sure you recognize the pay increase you’ll be receiving through royalties in this new version of the contract. All other terms are kept the same. However, because of the assistance your work has done to bring so much success to the company, we believe that you deserve more recognition through improved finances. It’s quite a lucrative opportunity for someone as young as you are.”

Though you pay little attention to the verbal ego stroke of Dohyun, you nod absently to his words, flipping the page as you try to search for any other changes. Even though he said royalty percentage is the only difference, you give a chance that there is more. A surprise alteration that would actually make you ecstatic in the way that money would never do. But there is no such thing.

It makes you bite your inner cheek that you’re so hesitant now to sign again where years earlier you were so eager you barely cared about listening to Dohyun ask you to take a few minutes to consider. Perhaps it’s maturity, or just dissatisfaction.

You glance towards Taehyung who sits waiting for your reactions to the contract. You slide the paper back to him, not catching Yerin’s eyes narrow slightly from your actions.

“My client is actually interested in adjustments to the contract that are unrelated to finances.” He says fluidly, pushing their contracts to the center of the table so that there is space for his briefcase as he sets it down. “Using her last contract, I revised it with new points of what she desires to change.”

Yerin takes the contract from Taehyung as he stands to properly hand them off, while Dohyun snatches it with a small, unhidden glare. She reads through it silently, while you watch with an increasingly heavy heartbeat. Trying your best to ignore the rumblings beside her from the company lawyer, you instead cast all your attention to Yerin who undoubtedly is more important for how this will play out. She sets the contract down, prompting Dohyun to sit upright and ready himself to speak until Yerin raises her hand to keep him quiet,

“Y/N, I’ve told you before that allowing you to receive public credit for songwriting and production will only lead to dissent from the public. It’ll irredeemably tarnish the reputation of SoundWave and every single idol or group that works out of the company, as well as those of us involved in the original terms of your contract from the beginning.” Her hand rests back on the table as she finishes her direct speech, nothing more than the smallest crease of her brows to indicate that Yerin is at the most irritated that you have continued to bring this argument up.

You feel Taehyung’s eyes as he looks to you, waiting further to gauge how far you’re willing to take this attempt. But the indecision of what you want feels like a tormenting battle, because what she says is true. Undeniably, there would be so much negative repercussions for this change, especially if any word gets out that the artists have all been simply lying about how much they work for themselves.

Even if you are rightfully owed acknowledgement that the creations are yours, it’ll come at the cost of so many careers and reputations that it feels greedy. You know it’ll do more harm for SoundWave than good for you in the public’s perspective, but it hurts watching everyone around you claim what you made is theirs.

“I realize that.” You say carefully, hands in your lap knotted into fists to help you maintain composure. “That’s why the contract only specifies that a certain percentage of music would be properly credited to me. The idols will still largely be seen as the songwriters and producers that the public think they are, I’ll just be added in like some of the other names you allow into the credits.”

“Which songs? At your discretion or ours?” Yerin asks rhetorically, earning an irritated glower from Taehyung who still sits beside you in silence to let you lead. “And what happens when this contract’s terms aren’t enough to satisfy your selfish desire to have your name in all of the albums? Are we simply supposed to grandfather out the perception that our idols are self-sufficient until it has transferred to being completely engineering by songwriters and producers behind the scene, and assume the public will simply be on board to go along with such an outrageous idea?”

You sit still, watching as Yerin’s sentences end leaving her with visible scowl. Clearly annoyed now. Similar to the anger that she expressed towards you, Yoongi, and Jimin months earlier, but presently it’s because of your own stubbornness. Though her own unyielding demands are also to blame, so tension releases from your fists and your eyes tighten into a glare,

“Your plan right now is to continue to lie to the public. The reputation of this company is already destroyed, it’s just waiting for them to find out. Keeping me locked in a contract that forces me to lie with you all isn’t my fault. I didn’t make the original contract that puts business gain above public trust. And frankly, I’m not trying to ruin SoundWave right now, I just want my name next to my songs. The artists still sing them, perform them, make money from them-- this whole company capitalizes ridiculously off of my work, and all I’m asking for is my name to be public.”

Beside you Taehyung watches curiously, a bit surprised that the eruption of a speech left you with such an intense disposition opposite to how nervous you were when meeting with him at the lobby. But this closer resembles what Yoongi mentioned about you to him.

Yerin’s erect posture falters as she reclines back into her seat, eyes fixated in angry slits towards you still. Not as menacing, shifting towards a bothered stare as composure appears to regain itself in her.

She examines you, knowing you’re miles from your comfort zone, having never spoken to her like this before. There’s not a single moment in the history of you at the company where you’re appeared so set in the fire of argumentation, and on one hand it’s mutually respected by her because she realizes completely that you’re just trying to fight for what you believe necessary. Yerin can’t fault that when years earlier she’d done the same for herself to get her to where she is today, but at the same time it isn’t a quality that she can reward in this situation.

“With the addition of your public relationship with Min Yoongi, it’s even more unlikely that the public will give positive attribution to your name should you begin to be credited outright. Your first exposure will be put under scrutiny because people will assume you’re using him for the work, or that he’s manipulating the company for his own gain. In either scenario, you won’t be well received. On top of everything else it’ll do to SoundWave’s reputation. For the sake of the company, and all of its employees, including you, I can’t let your terms be agreed to.”

Candidly said as it is polite, Yerin lets her decision take over the ambience. Spilling into every molecule of air, you’re left with no choice but to consider what she says as unchangeable. Just like you expected all along. From the first time you started to ponder the idea, you knew the outcome would be as it is now.

An uncredited employee is the extent of what you can be in SoundWave.

“While I understand you’re upset,” Yerin starts again, entirely calm. Like she’s won. “There can still be made adjustments into your salary and the royalties you earn as a way to mediate your frustration-”

“It’s not about the money.” You’re voice is calm too; flowing like drops into a lake that don’t disrupt the water. And your eye contact into Yerin’s is direct as well. Incomparably challenging from that of any you’ve made with her years earlier. You can tell by her slightest of frowns that Yerin realizes this is different from other times. Unwavering like you would have been even months earlier at the beginning of the year.

Yerin opens her mouth, to try another angle, but your head shaking is enough to make her stay silent, listening as you finish the meeting in a cut,

“I won’t renew my contract then. Once the time stated in it ends, I quit.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

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wickedandthedamned · 4 years

Text

Ch.2 Goodbye Morioh

"My name is Yoshikage Kira. I don't remember when or how I died but I know one thing for certain. I am not going to heaven."

That phrase. It had become a mantra to him. It was a chance for him to ground himself and have at least something that makes sense, a way for him to accept the faith he was currently living.

He had been dead for almost four years now (or at least that is how long he thought it had been time gets hazy when one is dead). For the majority of the first year, he roamed around trying to figure out the new world he found himself in. He very quickly realized that this new world was heavily bound by a set of rules. For the most part, they involved staying out of the way of the living which was simple enough. The hard part came with missing what he had when he was alive (at least what he remembered). He could neither taste nor feel any physical object. He never felt hungry but thought it was a shame that he could not enjoy food any longer. He particularly resented this while passing a sandwich stand at the airport.

He figured walking in the airport was going to be a hassle but thankfully Momoko had Scheduled a very late flight meaning there would be fewer people to bump against separating him from his limbs.

He decided that for once he was not going to crumble up the ticket. The little paper read Business class, well he was technically going on a business trip. It was obvious the monk was trying to make amends, not that Kira minded the extra legroom and separation from other passengers. Kira looked around the empty terminal. What exactly was this mission? Momoko had been very vague. He began having second thoughts about coming. She had betrayed him last time after all.

No matter, he had to push his hesitance aside as it was time to board. There only seemed to be a handful of people on the flight and most of them were very old. No children, thank god. If he had to spend the next 13+ hours next to a screaming pile of snot he would crash the plane. Yet again that would probably mean getting stuck with the passengers for a while so maybe that was not the best idea.

He made his way to his seat. Kira looked around and for a second thought, one of the stewardesses looked right at him. He was very relieved to find that was not the case. That was one of the few silver linings of being a ghost, being literally invisible to most people. He never had to deal with uncomfortable small talk or answer questions from annoying tourists. His class was mostly empty so he was able to enjoy using his complimentary headphones to listen to classical music for the entire trip. If only he could enjoy a little bit of champagne…

The plane took off quietly. He saw the small town he had known all his life grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared under the clouds. He felt odd. Something inside him shifted but he was not quite able to tell what it was. Kira was not very good at putting a name to his own emotions a lot of times. It definitely did not help that sudden burst of emotions such as these seemed to be tied with flashbacks of his previous life. Most of the time it was simply a small snapshot, a memory of an insignificant moment being triggered by an equally insignificant event such as the smell of someone's perfume reminding him of a store he used to frequent. Other times, he was not so lucky. Other times the memories rushed in and overwhelmed him, knocking him to the ground and making his spectral body ache. He didn't like thinking about those memories and stirred clear of anything he thought might make him remember them.

Kira watched the sunrise as Smetana's Moldau played. He drew a content sigh at the sight of the pinks and oranges of the sky kissing the horizon as the sound of violins swirled in his ear. Despite not wanting to admit it, he was looking forward to the job now or rather the prospect of it being legit.

"How odd" he chuckled to himself as he carelessly flipped through the travel magazines "a ghost on a plane traveling practically across the globe."

…

The Italian airport was much more crowded. He carefully wove through the crowd avoiding any accidental touching. Unfortunately, he found himself almost falling in front of a drug detection dog. The large black German Shepherd snarled its teeth and lunged at him pulling its distracted handler so close to Kira he almost went right through him. Kira managed to scurry away and hid behind a wall.

"That was a close call. I ought to be more careful if I want to arrive in one piece"

He closed his eyes and composed himself. There was a rather pleasant smell in the air. Freshly baked bread. His heart sank slightly but he quickly shook his self-pity aside.

"Focus, there is a job to do…hopefully"

He walked down the streets of the Italian town admiring the way old architecture blended in seamlessly with the new one. He didn't care much for travel when he was alive but now he thought that maybe he should have volunteered for more business trips.

… A couple of streets away a man sat at a table impatiently tapping his foot against the floor. His heel making an angry click against the pavement. Leaning against the adjacent wall, was a priest with a Bluetooth in one ear. The priest gave the other man an anxious look.

"Will you cut that out already? All that tapping is giving me the heebie-jeebies" "He's late" "Maybe the flight got delayed. Patience is a virtue you know? He probably has a good reason for being late"

The man rolled his eyes and the priest shrugged. …

Kira had wandered on to the flea market. He saw beautifully handcrafted leatherwear, the most exquisite works of art from local artists, and a couple of teenagers playing a delightful tune on the violin. As far as Yoshikage Kira was concerned, this place was everything he had ever dreamed of. He hid behind a market tent and whispered to the man running it.

"Excuse me, could I get the time?" "Oh, of course, it is 13:30" "Thank you" "Anyti-" the old merchant turned as if to see where the voice came from just to find no one there. He looked around in search of the source but quickly gave up when a young woman asked him the price of a handbag.

Kira continued walking down the street, searching for the rendezvous point. He found what he was looking for and approached the shop.

"Finally, the café. Now I just have to find a priest" Before Kira had the opportunity to look around he heard a man in front of him speak.

"Excuse me"

Kira looked over his shoulder to look for the person the man was addressing but found no one behind him. He turned to face the speaker once more. Was the man talking to him?

"Yes, you. I believe you have a message for me" The man pointed directly at Kira and shot him a wink. There was no longer any doubt in his mind this was the person he was supposed to meet. Kira circled him like a shark while looking him up and down.

"You are Momoko's friend, right?" The priest raised an eyebrow seemingly unbothered by having his personal space invaded.

"That's me. I expected you to be a lot... Older" Kira stopped and faced the priest taking a very good look at his face. The priest's white hair was swept to the side boyishly and instead of religious attire, he wore an off the shoulder tunic with a golden cross belt. He looked like he was in his mid 20's.

"Oh, believe me, I am old enough, I just moisturize. Now the code word, if you please"

"Right. Poveglia".

The priest gave Kira a large smile and clapped his hands excitedly.

"Welcome …?"

"Yoshikage"

"Yoshikage! I am Father Pomodoro Fastidio"

Fastidio extended a hand towards Kira who did not shake and instead chose to continue to stare him down.

"Quick question are you-"

"Dead? No."

"I don't really care about that. What I was going to say was "are you the one who I will be working for""

As he had finished that last sentence, a man on the nearest table started coughing loudly. He wore what looked like an extremely expensive suit and had long pink hair neatly held back with a loose ponytail. The priest continued speaking completely disregarding the choking.

"Oh goodness no, I'm simply a helper. I must say you arrived at the perfect time"

The coughing grew louder as the man began thrashing around gathering attention from other patrons. Kira could hardly hear the priest over all the noise.

"You see my friend has a bit of a predicament and he could really use someone in your line of work to.. Er.. help him sort it out"

"So I'm going to be working for a friend of a friend of a friend?" Asked Kira, growing increasingly more irritated with the background noise and everyone’s use of the word ‘friend’.

Other patrons started yelling to call the paramedics. The choking man clawed desperately at his throat in a last attempt to breathe. His lips had turned completely blue and his face was contorted in panic. His mouth foamed and his eyes began rolling to the back of his head.

"And just who is this friend ?" Kira was practically yelling in order to be heard at this point.

Fastidio's face lit up with excitement.

"Him" the priest look pointed at the choking man just as his head slammed against the table and dropped dead.

#kiravolo #diavolo x kira #kiraboss #Yoshikage Kira #diavolo #deadmans q #dmq #jjba #jojo ships #jojo bizzare #jojo rare ship

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