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simsadventures · 3 years

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Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride

Mob! Steve x Reader

Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers.

Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing

Word Count: 7969

A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.

“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.

2 weeks ago

“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it.

“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell.

“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured.

“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker.

You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.

“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care.

The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.

Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer.

This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building.

Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen.

“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed.

“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation.

“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.

“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill.

The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you?

It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option.

No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home.

“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York.

You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month.

Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month.

Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig.

So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you.

The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that.

You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more.

Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon.

You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere.

“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him.

“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless.

“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out.

“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit.

“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?”

He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well.

“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act.

“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him.

“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far.

John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair.

“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets.

If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that.

But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again.

“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan.

“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that.

“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh.

“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part.

“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of.

He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off.

“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good.

“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care.

“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about.

“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud.

Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really.

“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding.

“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop.

You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be?

Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently.

The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically.

“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you.

“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”

“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine.

But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first.

“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure.

“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?

Wednesday

“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work.

You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come.

“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking.

“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh.

“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust.

“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?”

They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables.

“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly.

God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening.

You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed.

Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice.

You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did.

Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it.

Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure.

The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside.

“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again.

“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him.

You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him.

As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all.

But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet.

A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked.

It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes.

“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm.

You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body.

Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God.

“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known.

“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening.

“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped.

Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously.

“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface.

“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?”

He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa.

“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint.

“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really.

“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly.

“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?”

“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!

You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy.

“What would be expected of me?”

“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being.

“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate.

“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.

Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.

“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.

“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers.

“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you.

“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously.

“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”

“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well.

I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9.

“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes.

“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.

“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit.

He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP.

The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal.

“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning.

Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer.

“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.”

“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even demand stuff. Fucking hell…

“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.

Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will.

You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind.

“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him.

“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away.

Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit.

Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.

/ Next Chapter >

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sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Parings: Bakugou x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, characters are in their third year.

Word Count: 5.4K

The two honor students of UA so happen to be childhood enemies. During the succession that is exams, Y/N is determined to beat Bakugou.

Exam season has commenced on the campus of U.A. Students woke up in a frenzied state, slightly nervous to the late night studying they’ll endure for the weeks to come. Not enough caffeine can energize them to be in complete motivation mode. A couple of students have taken the leisure of paying those to exchange notes, considering most of the questions will be going over every little detail in each subject. The exams don’t begin till next week, but a few of the honor students have already hit the books, not once indulging in a break or two till the sun sets. One of those students just so happen to be you, an inspiring young hero with the hunger for being on top of everything. Ever since middle school, teachers would constantly praise you on your performance during tests. It was no surprise to anyone when you aced the entrance exam to U.A, a remarkable score leading you closer to reaching your dream. Although your scores on every test was superb, someone else would occasionally steal the spotlight with by topping your score. That person in particular has been tailing behind you ever since middle school, another honor student who also attends U.A as well. Did you mention he also is in the same hero course as you?

Katsuki Bakugou is his name. A name that burns the tip of your tongue whenever you gave roll call alongside Iida. The man is a ball of pure fury. He exuded nothing but anger and hostility whenever he’s in a room. Despite his aggressive exterior, Katsuki is an avid academic student who manages to score excellent grades in each of his classes. For the past 3 years of attending U.A, you two are considered the star studded scholars, never once failing a test, midterm, pop quiz , you name it! Now with your hero course almost coming to an end, you were determined to at least score the highest result this exam season, leaving Bakugou in the dust with his inadequate score. Maybe have him crying in the corner would suffice the drawn out rivalry you two established. No one verbally said it was an all out war between you two, but everytime those test results are posted on the board, everyone steered clear for the both of you to silently react. Everyone awaits for the day when one of you finally snaps and start clawing at each other. But alas, only the mere exchange of a side eye and a curt nod. Deep down you do want to slap the smirk that always resides on his face during those moments, showing him you weren’t just going to let him win by smarts.

That’s why now you sit alone on the cushioned couch in the commons area, books sprawled around you like a protective barrier. You had your eyes glued to a textbook about the history of quirks and their physiology, a class in which you needed to spend studying the most for. It’s been a a few hours into your little study session, and you were beginning to feel the drag of how much you needed to actually work on. All this including your current homework and your mandatory internship studies at an agency. It was all too much to handle. So, maybe you do deserve a break.

Pushing the book aside, you stretched out your cramped up arms and sigh in relief. In the corner of your eye you spot a familiar head of ashy blonde walking into the commons room, books and notebooks crammed into his armpit while holding what seems to be an energy drink. Your eye twitched watching him plop down onto the couch across from you, never once paying attention to your presence. Katsuki then rests his bare feet on the wooden coffee table, opening one of his textbooks with the swipe of his thump. For some odd reason, this really riled you up. And it was clear Katsuki noticed too.

“Am I bothering you? Hm?” He smugly asked, eyes not wavering from the text before him.

You scoffed.

“No. Just, don’t speak while I’m trying to study okay?”

He clicked his tongue at you.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re studying to me. Looks like you’ve given up already. What gives?”

His comment made you even angrier.

“Given up? Kacchan, you’ve barely started.”

Looking up, you can see a faint vein forming against the temple of his forehead. His fists clenched tightly, crumpling the sides of the textbook. His eyes now were averted to yours. The crimson death glare, you’d call it.

“I was training with Kirishima, dumbass. So of course I couldn’t hop onto my studies earlier,” he started. Katsuki opens his energy drink with one finger, the pop of the air leaving the can satisfying to your ears, and took a swing of it. “Also, don’t ever fucking call me that. If I hear it from your mouth again I won’t hesitate to use my quirk on you.”

An intriguing idea. Usually you’d be the one to threaten your enemy, but Katsuki like always beat you to the punch.

“No thanks, I’d rather be harassed by grape juice than be blasted from the likes of you,” the taunt in your voice triggered something within Katsuki, causing him to tense up in pure anger. “Besides, I’m planning on studying all day till my eyes fall out. So don’t expect me to leave this spot.”

His smirk was soon on full display, uncrossing his legs to lean forward so he can rest his elbow on his knee.

“Oh really? Just so you know we have an early training tomorrow in preparation for our final exam. Wouldn’t want ya to, cha know, fail?” He didn’t even sound slightly concern for yourself and your future study habits, you can tell he wishes for you to fuck up your sleeping schedule to miss the important training in the morning.

“I have an alarm set on my phone so I don’t miss my beauty rest. Wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity of kicking your ass tomorrow,” you held your mobile device triumphantly, waving it back and forth to mock him.

With the roll of his eyes, Katsuki returned back to his studies, leaving you to sadly resume as well. Before he entered the commons area, you were about to head into your dorm room to take a nap, but now you were obligated to stay put without letting him think you’re already burnt out.

Silently, you both continued on with the unspoken competition.

Evening struck quicker than you expected, cascading the soft glow of the painted sky through the windows, illuminating both you Katsuki in a pink hue. Thankfully, Katsuki took your words into consideration and never spoke to you during the session, giving you an easy feeling of relaxation without him making it another competition.

Already you finished your notes for advance foreign language, quirk physiology, and mathematics. So far, you were ahead of everyone else, with the exception of Katsuki. Occasionally, you’d catch yourself glancing over at him working intensively in his small corner, highlighting and jotting down every minuscule detail in his notebook. This was your first time witnessing how Katsuki studies. To your disappointment, his regime was nothing out of the ordinary. Then how the fuck does he manage to score high grades? It simply baffled you.

A stampede of footsteps was to be heard coming from the hallway leading to the commons area. After what seems to be years, you cranked your head away from your notebook to see Kirishima and the rest of the gang marching towards the direction of both you and Katsuki, who was currently shooting daggers at the group of friends. The red head was the first to speak out of the four of them.

“Aye Bakubro! Wanna skip the studying for a little and eat with us at NoodleShop?” His smile gleamed brightly, showcasing his shark incisors.

“Y/N you too! Come join us. I’ll pay!” Mina chimed in.

Noodles sounded pretty appetizing right about now. You skipped out on lunch, too engrossed on the idea of getting a head start for the exams. Now you regret the decision of leaving your stomach on empty.

But you still had so much left to do. And knowing Katsuki’s competitive nature, he wasn’t going to move an inch from his spot.

“It’s okay Mina, I uh- already ate a big meal awhile ago,” you dismissed her, patting your belly to show you were indeed, full.

As if on cue, a loud growl erupted from the depths of your stomach, the noise reverberating across the soundless space. Denki and Sero both snickered.

To your amazement, Katsuki got up from the couch and trailed over to the group, slipping on his red hoodie that was draped on the arm rest. He took a quick glimpse at you and smirked over his shoulder.

“Watch my things for me will ya, extra?” And with that they all left the area as a group.

You huffed in defeat and stared back at your jumbled pile of notes, the writing transcending from neat to sloppy text. At least you don’t have an explosive blonde sharing the same air as you for now. You reached into your bag and grabbed another textbook, this one being more heftier than the others.

“Oh well, more time for studying...” you said to yourself as you skimmed through the pages of Hero First Aid: Volume 6.

The beautiful spring sky soon was replaced by the expanse of darkness, the twinkle of the bright stars catching your eyes. The moon alone helped cast a sheen of light, allowing you to work in the dimly lit up space. Bakugou didn’t return to retrieve his stuff, all of which were sat untouched in a hasty mess. You figure him and the rest of the gang would have been back on campus by now, but everyone in class 1-A have locked themselves in their dorms since lights out will commence in a few. Aizawa has yet to prohibit you from staying past the curfew. As long as you don’t go running among the halls like a lunatic and stay strictly to studying, he’s all game. And that’s exactly what you did.

A couple of students murmured as they passed by you, saying things like “Does she ever have a life” or “All she does is study...no wonder no one has asked her out yet”. As much as the comments sting, you knew they weren’t true to your heart. Last year, someone in class 2-B formally asked you to the dance. To their dismay, you rejected them on the spot. Only because you didn’t have time to date or talk romantically with anyone. It’s a distraction to both your education and future career.

Okay, so maybe they were partially correct. At least you had your first kiss before entering U.A? But the person who stole your kiss was obligated to do so, after being dared by their fellow acquaintances. Nothing more beyond that have you explored with another person.

Submerged in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the presence of the angry blonde, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie as he strolled to the couch that had all his materials. He began to gather his things when suddenly he freezes, remembering what you said about not moving an inch from your spot. He’s astonished to see you cemented on the same couch, in the same position, notes blanketing your thighs along with the pile books pooling at the edge.

You really are determined to beat him, he thought. Bakugou can’t deny he’s impressed with your ambition and drive to be the best among your peers, even if that means sacrificing basic human needs. Like food and sleep.

Although, looking at you right now in this state, with your eyes threatening to close shut, mouth slightly agape, and hair bunched up in a tight knot, it’s clear you were exhausted. He spoke without realizing it.

“Hey dumbass! The fuck you still doing here, huh? It’s almost lights out.”

His brooding voice startled you awake, causing the papers on your lap to spill on the carpeted floor. Bakugou coughed out a low chuckle, amused by how the mere sound of his voice scares you.

“Oh it’s just you,” you said, disregarding how that could easily irritate him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Anyway you should be getting rest. You’re smart enough to know that, idiot.”

Even though it was a subtle backhanded compliment, you couldn’t help but to appreciate him acknowledging your intellect.

“I can’t. I have to go over my flash cards for mathematics and then finish this week’s homework for tomorrow—.”

“Holy fucking shit shut up. Don’t you realize what you’re doing to yourself right now?” When you didn’t answer, Bakugou slapped his forehead. “You’re gonna burn yourself out dumbass! Then you won’t have any motivation left to study for when the exams are actually starting.”

Stunned, you watch as Bakugou stomps over to where you’re sitting at, crimson eyes never leaving yours. He then props his leg on the cushion next to your trembling thighs, out stretching his arm to grab ahold of something. Too focused on the proximity between you two, it didn’t register that he swiped your flash cards from your hands. What is wrong with him? Does he want to sabotage you this badly before exams?

“Bakugou! Give those back! I need them for my exam on Monday!” you ignored how whiny you sounded, not wanting to give Katsuki the satisfaction he thinks he deserves.

“You really think whining like a bitch will make me hand these over? Think again, dumb-.”

You cut him off with a surprise attack, shoving his entire body to the ground with the force of yours. Bakugou’s arms were pinned above him as you tried to pry the flash cards from his death grip on them. Stubbornly, he wiggles his body to keep you from reaching his arms, almost knocking you off his torso like a bull. Looking down, both of you were in a compromising position. Straddling his hips while he laid lifelessly underneath you, panting like a feral dog. You tried to keep the heat from spreading throughout your body as you felt his groin rub against your sex, but failed tremendously when he can obviously see the prominent blush creeping on your cheeks.

“What the fuck was that all about?! Why are you so adamant about beating me so much!” He yelled directly in your face.

A question that neither of you knew the answer to. Why were you so determined to destroy Bakugou? Shouldn’t a fellow honor student be happy that another is also making their education a main priority? Or maybe there is another underlying reason, something deeper under the dermis of your skin that you couldn’t quite reach.

You further the distance away from his face by leaning backwards, eventually hitting the front of his thighs and kneecaps.

“You don’t understand. I have to be good at everything. I need this in order to be the hero I’ve been wanting to be. Even if that means neglecting my own needs...” you paused, unsure if Bakugou was even listening anymore. “That is, until you came along and ruined everything.”

“Hah?!” His reaction was incredulous.

“Don’t “Hah” me! It’s been your plan all along since middle school to top me at everything. So why me?!”

“Well maybe it’s because I’ve always looked up to you dumbass! Have you ever considered that!”

The words tumbled out of his throat as if he’s been holding off on the sentiment. Bakugou Katsuki, the abrasive yet studious boy, just so happens to admire you? Never it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, you also strived to be the absolute best solely because of him. The way he strides into a battle with confidence, not an ounce of doubt that he’ll lose. His diabolical strategies that somehow works out in the end. Or the way how underneath that rough exterior, he believes he’ll be the one left climbing to the top, along with his peers. It’s his sticky pride that kept the rivalry between you two so alive. But was it really a rivalry after all this time?

Eyes widen at the confession, you stay frozen on his lap, fingers bunching up the top half of his hoodie. The silence broke Katsuki. For once, he wanted you to at least admit it, that you were also in the same boat as he is right now. So, he hesitantly reaches out and rests his palm against your flushed face, basking in at your sudden reaction to him touching you.

“Why does everything have to be a competition between us?” His soft spoken voice was uncharacteristic for him, you were so used to his gravelly tone after years of being the victim to it.

You felt the traces of his warm finger tips tickling lines on your outer cheek, as if he’s done this before.

“Isn’t that our dynamic? Competitive enemies?” The comment made him quirk an eyebrow at you.

“Enemies? You were never one in my eyes in the first place...” He trailed off, getting distracted by how close you’ve gotten to his face. To his lips.

“Then, what am I to you?” you leaned in closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of something in his eyes. You took notice that his pupils were dilated, making his eyes darker than usual. The hand rubbing lines on your cheek snaked around behind your head, taking full comfort on the base of your neck. The feeling was quite foreign to you. How long you yearned till days on end for someone to touch you tenderly like this. Especially from someone like Katsuki Bakugou.

“Does this answer your question.” Was all he said before smashing his lips to mount yours, the sudden contact making you shiver in his arms.

You felt him breathe out in surprise against your mouth when you took the initiative by swiping your tongue on his bottom lip. The kiss was exquisitely slow and intense. So intense that Bakugou forgot where he even was at the moment, too engulfed at the texture of your tongue asking for entrance. The fingers digging into the back of your neck started to hurt, but you didn’t mind the pain, the pleasure overwhelming all your senses. You can hear the harsh undertones of his breathing every time you slightly moved the lower half of your body.

“Stop moving, idiot,” he said breathlessly.

He knew he was fucked by seeing the smirk forming on your lips.

“Oh, you mean like this?” You then grind your hips in a harsh motion, relishing in the bashful look on Katsuki’s face.

He let his hands go freely, attaching themselves on both sides of your hips, grounding you to stop altogether. He sat in an upright position, encasing you between his legs and hard chest, your legs wrapping around his torso. Any other time it’d be comforting, but right now you felt like a bird trapped in a cage.

“Who knew the good girl would be so disobedient? Kind of hot not gonna lie.” He bent his head to where it was directly hovering over the sensitive spot on your collarbone. “Even when we’re just making out, you have to make everything a goddamn competition huh?”

A gasp left your throat once his tongue licked a clean strip on the surface. He chuckled, loving the feeling of you squirming in his muscular arms and continued the attack on your skin. His feather-like kisses switched to full on feverish sucking and biting. He proceeded to suck on the area, letting go with a definite ‘pop’, then returned back by making out on the bruised skin.

The combination of his tongue, the death grip on your hip, and the bulge protruding from his loose sweatpants was too much stimulation already. Before you knew it, Katsuki abruptly stood up from the floor, along with you, and placed you back on the plush couch. Your legs were wide open, giving him a good view of your white panties beneath the school skirt. You clamped your legs together after seeing the blonde lick his lips at the sight.

“D-Don’t be such a pervert,” you squeaked out.

That didn’t stop him from slipping his hand in between the crack of your legs, spreading them wider than before.

“Stop lying to yourself. You’ve imagined me between these thighs haven’t you?” The silence following his question was enough to suffice him. “Such a naughty girl.” Those crimson eyes stared straight ahead as he tugged your panties down a notch.

Here?! Right now? Why couldn’t he reside both of you in his dorm? It was literally at the end of the hallway. Plus, the thought of your teacher, Aizawa, catching you would be mortifying.

Your hand quickly latched itself around Katsuki’s forearm, halting him from proceeding his lustrous actions.

“What are you doing?! We could get caught you idiot!”

Katsuki grins and says, “You’re right. We need to find a way to shut you up.” Without preamble, he practically ripped the thin panties with sheer ferocity, causing you to yelp. You were about to scold him for ruining your favorite pair when said panties got shoved into your open mouth. “Remember, don’t want to get us caught right? Now be the good girl like you are and stay quiet for me.” Obediently you nodded at his order and prayed that whatever he’s going to do to you won’t be too much.

Katsuki hummed, obviously pleased at how well you’re going along with this. He wonders how far you’ll go till you break. With the swipe of his tongue, Katsuki dragged it up and down on the opening of your drenched sex. You mewled at the new sensation, legs already trembling as he his own salvia covered your folds. He bit and nibbled on the sweet spot, the clit, and lapped a few lazy strokes with his pointer finger in circular motions. Before you could stop him, he inserted the lubricant finger into your hole slowly, pumping it a couple of times to get you loosened up. Muffled moans perked up the ears of Katsuki. Looking up, he saw the beautiful sight of your eyes rolled behind your head along with the familiar tint of red on your cheeks. Just like the secretive slut you truly are, you swayed your hips to create more friction. Katsuki acknowledged your needy movements and dipped his head between your legs again, returning back to kissing your sex open mouthed. The lewd noises of him sucking on your wetness elicited a long drawn out moan from you, making Katsuki’s own cock twitch at the glorious sound.

“You’re so fucking cute like this. Almost coming from just my tongue and fingers. Fucking slut,” he said between suctions. “God, what were we thinking...we could’ve just resolved our issues like this every time.”

You grabbed a handful of his spiked up hair and raised his head away from your lower region. While doing so, you spit out the soaked clothed panty from your mouth, letting it drift off to the floor.

“Just s-shut up and do something about m-me,” you manage to croak out. You flicked your eyes on Katsuki and to the hand buried inside your skirt.

“Ah, want more than just my fingers? Could’ve just said so. Why are you being so quiet with your needy demands, babe?”

This newfound nickname plucked a heart sting within you. You shook off his snarky comment and stood up from the couch. If it’s a competition he wants, then it’s a competition he’ll get.

“Take off your pants and sit on the couch.”

Craning his head back, his own roar of a laughter bounced across the quiet room. Laughter dying down, his expression changed seeing how serious you actually were.

“Tch. Whatever you say dumbass. Don’t want you to explode on me now.”

He did as you said and removed the article of clothing, leaving him in nothing but his red boxer briefs. The bulge grew bigger the longer you stared at it. He laid back on the plush cushion and rested his arms behind his head.

“Alright, I’m waiting Y/N,” he taunted you.

One by one, you unbutton your school uniform and let it fall off your shoulders, along with your plaid skirt pooling at your ankles. Arms crossed on your chest you tower over Katsuki, who was surprisingly not staring at your goods, but your eyes. Beckoning you forward with his glare, you straddle him immediately, hands resting on his broad shoulders.

My, all these years of being in the same class and never once did you take advantage of appreciating how chiseled he looked in his hero costume. Sometimes you’d glance his way or pretend to be busy, but really, you wanted to see him in action. The way how his muscles would contract with each swing or punch. It was enough to make a girl swoon. Now you were swooning for sure. On his lap to be precise.

“Oi, you gonna do something nerd? My cock isn’t going to finish off itself.” His voice snapped you back to reality.

It took a few minutes, but you were finally hovering over the tip of his throbbing member, the glistening of his pre-cum coating your fingers. You teased him by rubbing just the tip against your entrance, lubricating the member even more. He tried to muffle his whines, but failed tremendously after feeling his tip graze your sex. Both of you were heavily now, anticipation radiating off of your sweaty bodies. Tenderly, you kissed him open mouth while sheathing yourself on his cock.

“Holy shit, holy fuck fuck fuck,” the vulgar words spilled from his mouth against yours as you bottomed out. You stayed in that position. Still unsure what to do and what you got yourself into. Pretty sure you’re torturing Katsuki by the minute.

“F-Fucking move," He growled in your ear.

Leaning in closer you whisper, “You have to beg for it then.” You nibbled the loose skin on the bottom of his ear and tugged it gently.

“Hell no! God-fucking-damnit don’t make this a competition right now Y/N.” The palm of his abnormally large hand pushed your face away from his. You giggled.

“C’mon Bakugou, there’s no harm in it. Just say please?”

“Fuck you shitty woman...”

“That’s not begging,” you pouted.

He pursed his lips. Bakugou admittedly is getting more turned on by the minute, and not just because you were practically inside him.

“P-Please fucking move. I w-want you to fuck me so bad you have no idea. Please Y/N...”

Smiling, you raised your hips to where the veins on the side of his member scraped the walls within you. It made your cunt twitch in pure ecstasy. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down, only this time you weren’t stagnant. You repeated the same vertical movements, clashing your hips with his. Bakugou titled his head back on the couch, degrading sentiments leaving his mouth as his hands grasped the sweaty flesh of your ass, squeezing it harshly every time you bounced on his dick. The tip of his member taking your breath away as it prodded the spongy walls.

“Yes- oh fuck yes. Ngh, keep doing that. Yeah like that. Hah-fuck, don’t stop,” he said between the constant panting.

Due to your rapid bouncing, your boobs were flailing in the air, occasionally hitting Bakugou in the face. Katsuki took matters into his own hands and latched his mouth around one of your perked nipples. You squealed at the sudden sensation.

“B-Bakugou...don’t do that...it’ll make me come faster,” you moaned as he grazed his teeth on your taut nipple.

For revenge, he tugged back the areola till it reached a few centimeters from your chest. Painful yes, but you couldn’t deny it felt amazing. He quickly let go and returned to sucking on the tit, lathering it up with his own spit. All the while you were riding him till the muscles and tendons in your legs gave out. Steadying your hands on his shoulders, you grounded on your knees to give yourself a better leverage. Feeling touch starved, Bakugou shoved your hands from his shoulders and laced his fingers between them. Like a missing puzzle piece, you fit in perfectly with him. Everything about you was perfection. You defined it. Sitting here watching as you take him well, physically or not, he was completely enamored by the mere sight of you. He craned his head to brush just the tip of your nose. A nose he unmistakably mentally captured because he loved the feature so much.

Although, he couldn’t think straight after that once you bottomed out again and rolled your hips in tune to his panting. You made a mess out of the aggressive blonde. Each time you swayed your body to the side he’d grunt out a low moan, trying to contain his usual loud profanities from waking up your classmates. Bakugou reached down and teasingly rubbed the sensitive bud, getting revenge for all the times you’ve pissed him off. Under your breath, you moaned out his last name.

“Say my name,” he grunted, hands continuing to expertly work on you from below.

Confused, you obeyed and moaned, “Bakugou!”

Suddenly, a painful sting sparked throughout your lower back. Eyes glued shut due to the searing pain, you whimper feeling a calloused hand smooth over the spot on your ass.

Katsuki spanked you. And you liked it.

“My actual name, dumbass. I wanna hear it coming from your mouth.”

With a thrust, you continue moving up and down on his cock, never once missing a beat.

“K-...Katsuki. Katsuki-Katsuki...” his name sounded ethereal, as if he was a higher being.

Katsuki returned the favor and fisted your hair in a tight knot, your scalp screaming at how harsh he was pulling.

“That’s a good girl.”

With a playful slap to your behind, Katsuki roughly shoves you to mount his lips again. Lips parted, both of your tongues twisted against each other, sharing a decent amount of saliva. He slipped out and pecked your lips a few times before biting down on your bottom lip. It didn’t hurt like all the times he inflicted pain on you previously. But this time you swore you felt the trickle of blood trailing down to your chin. The coppery taste infiltrating your taste buds only increased your arousal. What a masochist.

Bakugou noticed the pacing of your movements decreasing, indicating you are already feeling worn out, and steadied his hands onto your hips.

“Just let me do the work here, dumbass,” he said as he thrusted sharply into your womb, causing you to whimper into his neck. “I’ll take good care of you. You deserve a break from studying after all.”

You woke up feeling dizzy and fatigued, body aching from your toes to your head. From what you can remember, you were in the middle of studying when...

Katsuki happened.

Then you realized you weren’t in the commons area anymore. Somehow, you were laying in a medium sized bed, covers strewn over your naked body, along with a muscular arm draped across your torso. To your side you can see a passed out Katsuki snoring quietly into his pillow. Even when he’s asleep, he still looks angry.

Jolting upright, you carefully pry his arm from your body. No prevail. He’s got a strong hold on you.

He shuffled in his sleep and tightened his grip around you.

“Mmm...not leaving...stay a little longer,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “We both can’t walk out of your dorm in the morning. People will get suspicious of us. Not to mention Aizawa,” you retorted back.

“Oh? Don’t like the idea of ‘us’ huh? That’s not what you said last night.”

You didn’t need to look to know he was wearing his infamous shit eating smirk.

“Shut up.”

For the first time you heard Katsuki genuinely laugh without forcing it. You looked over and saw his eyes wide open now, staring at nothing but you.

“Whatever, you love me Y/N.”

“I DO NOT!”

Grabbing your face with his rough hands, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“Go to fucking sleep nerd, we have a pre-exam in a few hours.”

(You can obviously tell I got lazy at the end LMFAO. This has been in my drafts for a LONG time. Also, this isn’t edited so please excuse the horrendous text that is this post. Xoxo)

#bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou

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maddiwrites · 3 years

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Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best chapter, so please don’t judge too harshly I swear it gets better!!! (: Again, forever grateful for all the kind feedback. I truly appreciate it. If you asked to be on the tag list and I accidentally forgot, please let me know!

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Slight insinuation to sexual assault.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 & Chapter 4

Like I said before, I'm good at advertising. Although the cell phone towers are still down, making it harder for me to get the word out about a party in the boneyard, I still know how to get around to the other teenagers on this island.

I sneak in an hour of surfing on the beach, afterwards finding Tourons and even some Kooks. These are the best people to go to when you want word to get around. They're rich and live for gossip. They have the internet and cell phone service, which means they can text their friends and send out tweets. And that is exactly what they do when I'm finished talking to them.

Later, I go with JJ and John B to get the kegs. As they work their magic, somehow securing two, I walk around the lot where most kids who live on the Cut hang out, hoping to score cheap booze from a stranger walking into the beer and beverage store. I use to spend a lot of my weekends here when my dad first disappeared. A small part of me still wants to. It was so easy to forget about my life falling apart when I was too wasted to form a complete sentence.

I tell them about the party and tell them to tell their friends and so on.

As I expect, the empty boneyard fills up quickly. To Kie's dismay, almost every kid has a red solo cup in their hand instead of a reusable one by the time the sun sets. Music and the chants of people playing drinking games fill my ears like a bird chirping on a Sunday morning.

Beer dribbles down my chin and onto my pink v neck crop top. JJ has his arm linked around mine, also chugging his drink, trying to down his before me. However, I beat him by one gulp and slam my cup on the sand as triumph.

"Seriously, Mar?" Kie scolds. She picks up my cup and throws it away.

JJ just smiles at me, maybe even looks at me with some kind of pride. It's hard to beat JJ in any drinking match, but I'm his biggest competition. I usually lose against him, but sometimes I have my nights where I'm undefeated.

He points his finger at me, pretending to be mad without losing the smile on his face. He takes a menacing step forward and bends down to lift me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise and laugh against his back as he swings me around in circles.

When he sets me down, I shove his shoulders playfully. "Looks like you've finally met your match." JJ just shakes his head. "Get me another beer, loser?"

"You're lucky you're cute." He winks.

You can't understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, working-class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just rich trustfarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. They're usually my first pick. A night with no attachments and a more than likely chance I'll never see them again.

I walk past Kie, who's sitting on drift wood talking to someone about zodiac signs and horoscopes. And when I pass Pope, I hear him talking about dead bodies and how TV doesn't portray the biological condition of them accurately. I giggle to myself when I see who he's talking to. A really pretty girl who wasn't expecting to get an anatomy lesson from the boy next to her. I make a mental note to work on Pope's flirting tactics.

As I make my way to the back of the beach, I see Sarah Cameron leaning off a fallen lifeguard stand. Her boyfriend, Topper Thornton, is right there with her, trying to get her to come down. Sarah Cameron's known as the Kook princess. Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. None of us know why she started hating her all of a sudden. She doesn't like to talk about it so we don't bring it up. However, John B works on Sarah's dad's boat thanks to me.

My teeth clench together at the sight of both of them. The two of them and their friends are the worst Kooks of all. Bad memories prickle my brain like a million tiny needles and the palms of my hands sweat against my solo cup.

I walk to the back of the beach and lean against a tree that's as close to a palm tree as this island is going to see. I like being back here when the sun goes down. It gives me the perfect view of the party. Watching people laugh and have fun because of a night my friends and I put together makes me feel satisfied. Like I did something to make their day a little more enjoyable.

"Now what's the life of the party doing back here all by herself?" A voice that makes every muscle in my body turn to ice says.

I force myself not to look in his direction. My hands clench tighter around my cup until it bends and beer sloshes on my hand.

"Trying to avoid grimy wandering hands from pompous pricks," I say through clenched teeth. I'm surprised my voice isn't as shaky as I feel. "Go away, Rafe."

Rafe Cameron ignores me and moves to stand in front of me. His blonde hair is slicked back with a gel that's probably more expensive than my entire outfit. He's wearing a salmon pink button up shirt and white shorts. The sight of him makes me sick and I don't know if I want to drink more heavily or throw up and call it a night.

"Oh come on, Marleigh. Let's not pretend like you don't want to finish what we started."

I stand up straighter, feeling bile rise in my throat. "I'd rather rip both of my eyes out with a spoon." My insult wipes his stupid cocky grin off his smug face. At first I take it as a compliment, but the look in his eyes chills me to the bone. "Get out of here, Rafe. I'm not going to tell you again."

Rafe jerks forward and pushes me back into the trunk of the tree. His forearm presses against my chest, right below my collarbone. I try fighting him off but he's surprisingly strong. His eyes swing back and forth with craze, his pupils large and dilated. He's gotta be on something. Cocaine maybe. I've heard rumors.

"You think you can talk to me like that? After what my dad did for your friends?"

"Your dad only helped them in hopes to cover up the mistake that you made," I seethe, trying to push him away again. I try to keep my breathing even and my eyes unblinking. I don't want him to think I'm afraid of him. Even though I'm scared enough to vomit on his two hundred dollar shoes. "I owe you nothing." There's a pause as Rafe considers his next words carefully. So I push even harder. "You know, if you keep bringing it up, people might overhear and start to talk. I don't know if even your dad could buy the entire island's silence."

"You seriously think you can threaten me? You're nothing but a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. No one will believe the Cut's biggest whore." Rafe shakes his head. "Remember that next time you think about talking to me like that."

His words cut through me like a stab in the chest, but I try not to let him see that. I push against him, keeping my face pinched and my eyes unwavering. "I'm not the same girl I was eight months ago," I say, finally pushing him away from me.

Back then I was a messed up girl who's dad had just left after a big argument that resulted in him thinking she hated him. All I wanted to do was drown myself with drugs and alcohol in hopes to forget about him, even if that meant following Kie to a Kook party when she was trying to roll around in the Kook life. I was easy to manipulate and take advantage of...easy to hurt. But not anymore.

"You think I'm above hitting a girl?" Rafe breathes heavily, his hands clenched to his side. I struck a nerve. One more and he might actually attack me.

"No," I say honestly. "I don't think you're above anything...or anyone. Including me - a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue." I use his words against him.

Rafe jerks forward and raises his hand to hit me and I'm ready for the blow and a fight back, but someone's voice forces us to halt, stopping us like she just pressed paused on a movie screen.

Kie watches us with wide eyes and glances back and forth between us. She looks both scared and angry. Rafe doesn't even bother looking in her direction. He's more disappointed that she got in his way.

I stand up straight again and walk past him, making sure to shove him backwards with my shoulder. Kie wraps her arm around mine and pulls me in close as she guides me away from him. She looks behind us one last time to make sure Rafe isn't following us. When the coast is clear, she stops and turns to look at me with a stone cold expression.

"What the hell was that?" She says, trying to read my face. "Are you okay?"

I can barely hear her behind the screaming in my head. Dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. The Cut's biggest whore. Who would believe you?

"Fine," I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I look back to where I was just standing. Rafe's gone, but the nausea he left me with isn't.

"Marleigh."

"Seriously, Kie. I'm fine. Just some unresolved built up resentment coming out full-fledged. I can't say I'm surprised. Now that summer's started, we're probably going to see a lot more of them."

Kie sighs and looks at me sympathetically. I hate that look. "You should tell the boys."

"What? No way!" I snap.

"What if he -"

"He's not going to." I glare at her.

"Why won't you just -"

"So they can think of me as some pathetic little girl who needs protection from some self-centered Kook? Besides, John B and probably JJ will go after him and the last thing either of them need is charges pressed against them."

The noise of people yelling at one another and some cheering stops Kie from fighting back with me. We turn to look towards the water, seeing a crowd form around two people fighting. Dread creeps up my chest. If I had one hundred dollars, I'd bet it all that one of my friends is the center of attention in that crowd.

Kie and I run to them, pushing ourselves to the front. My breath hitches in my throat when I see who's involved. John B and Topper are fighting ankle deep in the ocean, each one getting a few good punches in.

"John B, stop!" I yell. I don't care who started the fight or why Topper deserves to get beaten to shit. If John B gets caught, the two of us are more than screwed with DCS.

"We're suppose to be incognito, remember?" Pope yells at my brother next to me.

"Babe!" Sarah yells at her boyfriend, jerking back and forth, trying to grab him by the shirt to pull him back. But his movements are scrappy. Sarah would just get hurt.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd around us cheer like it's a high school wrestling match and not my brother, the one that threw them this party by the way. I can't believe people find this as a source of entertainment. Half of them wouldn't even last a second if they were the one's getting beaten to a pulp.

Topper gets the upper hand and throws John B into the water. I flinch from the pain that must of caused to John B's back.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" Topper says.

In that moment my vision turns red and a switch flips in my body. I picture my hands around Topper's neck and him begging for me to let him go - him taking back those words.

When I step into the water to reach him, arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from going forward. I glare at the blonde Pogue and try shoving him away from me but that only makes his grip on me tighten.

"JJ, let me go," I grunt.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Can't do that." His lips are so close that I can feel his breath.

John B tackles Topper to the ground and punches him in the face again.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"John B, let it go!" Kie screams. "Stop, you guys!"

Topper kicks John B's feet from under him and just like that, JB is back in the water. The Kook kneels next to him and punches my brother across the face before shoving his head into the water.

"Topper stop!" I yell.

"Come on John B!" Pope yells.

Topper lets John B come up for air before dunking him back in. I feel my chest tighten when I realize what Topper is going to do, whether he means to or not.

"JJ, please! He's going to kill him! JJ!" I cry against his hold.

"Come on, Man!" Topper taunts John B, keeping his head under water.

I'm going to kill him, I think. The second JJ lets go, I'm going to rip Topper apart.

"Topper, stop! No!" Sarah cries.

"Pope!" JJ says, swinging me around before pushing me into our other friend's arms. "Hold her."

"What? No!" I fight back but even Pope is stronger than I give him credit for.

JJ disappears to God knows where and I'm left watching like a stranded duck. I feel useless, like I should be doing more to help my brother. Everything I said to Rafe only minutes ago goes straight out the window. Maybe I am weak and still a girl who needs protecting.

Then the world freezes. JJ holds the gun we found in the motel to Topper's head, not only making Topper pause, but the rest of the crowd too. Pope releases his hold on me and I stumble away from him. I only watch the scene unfold in front of me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you know what that is," JJ says, clicking the safety off the gun. "Your move, broski."

"Come on!" Pope yells. "Chill dude!"

"Stop! JJ!" Sarah cries. "Put the gun down!"

"Did you say something princess?" JJ turns towards Sarah and points his gun at the sky.

"We're good. We're good." Topper stumbles away from my brother to stand in front of his girlfriend.

The second he backs away, I'm in the water helping John B. I pull his upper back into my lap and push his hair out of his face. He coughs up a couple gulps of water before relaxing against me.

"Kie! Can you check your psycho friend, please!" Sarah yells.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" JJ addresses everyone else who still watch in fear. "Get the hell off our side of the island!" He fires two bullets into the sky, causing people to shriek and cry around me.

"Are you crazy?" Kie yells at him. "Why do that?"

"I'm saving his life, okay?" JJ yells back at her.

When people begin dispersing, Pope runs into the water to help me lift John B back to shore. He's in a daze and barely able to stand on his own.

The four of them help me drag him back to the Chateau, the party long forgotten. Kie covers John B with blankets and places a glass of water on the nightstand for when he wakes up. I don't say anything as the night wraps up. I'm not mad at JJ like Pope and Kie. He did what he had to do to save John B. Topper could have killed him and the police would probably chop it up as an accident and I would be left with no family.

"You guys should go," I say.

I just want to be alone. Between Rafe and Topper, all I can think about is sleep so I can wake up to a new day. Start over and try again.

"Are you sure?" JJ asks, looking between my eyes to find any sign for him to stay.

As much as I want JJ to stay the night and let me cuddle into him like the night before, it's best if I'm alone. So I reluctantly nod.

"You can stay at mine tonight, JJ," Pope offers.

I offer a weak smile before turning around to lock myself in my room. When I hear the door to the Chateau close one last time for the night, I sigh deeply and stare up at my ceiling. I'm restless, anxious, sweaty. As much as I want sleep, sleep doesn't want me. I toss and turn hoping for a wave of darkness to hit me but it never does.

I glance at my clock. 3:04 AM. I roll my eyes and groan to myself, pushing myself up against my bed's headboard. I tip toe out of the Chateau and make my way down to the dock. I dip my toes in the water and lay back against the wooden slacks. The moon's half crescent illuminates the water, dark with a mystery glint. It's cold against the night, feeling refreshing against my skin.

Even my mind isn't tired. My head wanders with different thoughts. Rafe, Topper, Scooter, the gun...my dad. His words echo through my ears like a skipping record. The night before he disappeared he told John B and I that he might have to vanish for a bit. This only caused a major fight to brew between my father and I whereas John B only nodded and said okay. I think this is why John B still holds on to hope that he's alive somewhere.

John B was always the loyal one to my father. Although they fought almost as much as my dad and I, they were quick to move on and pretend like it wouldn't happen again. Even though it always did. He tried to help my dad keep me on track with school, friends, and other activities. Most of the time, he just joined in on my antics. Sometimes I regret not giving my dad enough credit. He was a single father to Pogue twins with the distraction of his own obsession. My last words to him haunt me every day I pass his office.

"I hate you!" I screamed. I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears. I wanted him to know I was strong and that I didn't need him. I think my main intention was to hurt him like he hurt me, but I would do anything to take it back.

~ ~ ~

I wake up to the low rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel underneath some tires. I blink away the sleep in my eyes, looking out into the marsh. The sun is above me, warming the entire island with it's summer heat so early in the morning.

My back aches as I sit myself up. I twist to find the noise that woke me up.

"Shit," I curse when I see the cop car parked in front of the Chateau.

Sheriff Peterkin sees me walking up my yard and waits for me to approach her before barging into my house. I squint against the morning light. Even though I'm not in the mood for a pop in, I actually like Peterkin. She's the only one I trust to do her job right.

"I hope you brought some coffee," I say before opening the door for her.

"This will be quick," She says. I watch her eyes scan my kitchen and living room judgmentally. "Where's your brother?"

I point to his room. Peterkin gives me a look to go first. I sigh, knocking twice on the door before letting myself in. John B is still passed out. Half of his body hangs off the bed. His left eye is officially black and blue, a mark I know Peterkin won't subtly ignore. It's the first thing she sees and gives me a sideways glance. I cross my arms and look away.

John B blinks up at us when he hears our footsteps. His brows furrow in confusion, sleep still fogging his head.

"Get decent, sweetie," Peterkin says. "We need to talk."

As we wait for JB to get dressed, I sit on the pull out couch in my living room, fumbling with my thumbs until he appears, dressed in an open button up and swim trunks. He glances between Peterkin and I for some answers but neither of us give him any.

"Sorry to break in like this," She says, pacing the floor. John B stands next to me with his arms crossed. "But DCS called. They wanted me to check on you. See how you two are doing." Neither of us answer. "So, how are you, besides -" She points to JB's shiner and I hold myself back from rolling my eyes. So far so good!

"Oh, no, I'm - I'm great," John B says, shrugging like our life is just full of rainbows and butterflies. "Yeah, fantastic. Uh... thanks for coming by."

Peterkin just smirks. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, John B, but I heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember. Oh yeah. One of the things I heard was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn't been in the state for three months."

"Yes he has -"

Peterkin cuts me off. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's true. I called the school. They said you used to be a good student," She says, looking at John B. Then she looks at me. "You not so much. But John they say now you're failing all your classes."

"No. No, I'm only failing one and it's history. He's a dick. He's out for me - "

"I heard," Peterkin continues, not giving a damn about John B's bullshit excuses, "there was a fight on the beach yesterday, and a gun was involved."

My eyes snap up to look directly at Peterkin. I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. What else was she going to ask? Would JJ get in trouble? Are we going to jail?

"Okay, gun?" John B plays dumb. "No. Did I get in a dustup? Yeah, but was there a gun? No. No way," He scoffs.

"That's okay I know who it was. I'll get to him. All I'm worried about right now is making sure you're in a safe home."

"Yeah," I say. "Super safe."

John B knocks the table next to him. "Super sound, sturdy. You know?"

"Uncle T's coming so..." I say to get John B to stop talking. He's a lot of things but a good liar isn't one of them.

"That's what he told you?" Peterkin looks at me with a raised brow.

"Yeah."

"If he is coming," Peterkin picks up a cigarette and sniffs it. "I think you should be allowed to stay."

"Thank you."

"But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat."

John B tilts his head in confusion. "What - what does tat mean?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my head fall back. I swear I'm going to buy duct tape to keep this boy's mouth shut.

Peterkin ignores him. "Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?"

"Yeah," I decide to answer. "We were fishing for some drum."

"You catch anything?"

"Nah, we were skunked."

"Strange," She says, not believing me. "Fishing's usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up. You come across a wreck yesterday?"

"No." My heart falls deeper, but I try to keep a straight face.

This makes Peterkin sigh and she glances between the two of us. "You two are skimmin' just above the surface. Now, down here is foster care, juvie," She says, dropping her hand to about knee length. "Pretty big drop for smart kids like the both of you." She moves her hand to eye level. "Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks...or foster care on the mainland." I let her threat swim in my brain. "You one inch above the surface, Routledge. If I was you, I'd start flapping my wings." She looks at us one last time, no longer wanting to play games. "Now, you sure you didn't come across a wreck yesterday?" She looks at John B who's more likely to blab than me.

I look up at my brother, warning him that he needs to lie.

He shrugs his shoulder, the lie sliding across his tongue like silk. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure."

Peterkin looks between John B and I and nods slowly. "It's better if you didn't, you understand? I'm gonna look the other way as long as you stay out of the marsh." She runs her finger along the wooden kitchen table and rubs the dust between her fingers. "I got dogs living better than this. You might wanna think about cleaning' up."

Peterkin lets herself out without saying goodbye. John B and I don't say anything until her car pulls out of the driveway and only then do we just share a look that says how screwed we both are.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters @brebear121

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archipelagolago · 3 years

Text

And your heart beats to the death of the sun, the roll of the waves (+ sunday by Joy Oladokun)

÷÷÷

Ah ah ah (Mmm, mmm)

Ah ah ah

Billy used to dream of dandelion rich fields and soft pink sunbeams. He doesn't anymore. But he would like to again. Sometimes, he dreams of an endless subway station. Empty and dark like 4AM. That's the closest he ever gets these days.

He is contemplating the overlap between railroad tracks and dandelions from his spot on the floor. In the doorway between kitchen and sitting room. Half of himself laying on each side. Split between an intersection. Split between who he is and who he is expected to be.

And Steve will be here soon. Which is good. But overwhelming. Because Billy doesn't feel ready to see anyone right now. But. Perseverance and all that shit. So.

Mama says I'm up to no good again

Couldn't make her proud though I did my best

I feel like I'm a mess

I feel like I'm stuck in the wrong skin

I feel like I'm sick

But I'm having trouble swallowing my medicine

Ah ah ah

His mother's necklace weighs heavy on his chest, pressed against his collarbone. Heavy. Weighted full of all the disappointment he knows she would feel if she could see him now. She said she loved him. But she left. She said she loved him. But she left him with Neil. She said, she loved him. But, she also said, 'falling in love with boys will send you straight down to the devil'.

And this morning. While on the phone with Steve to confirm their plans for today. He realized. He realized, he's in love with Steve. Which he already kinda knew. But fuck. Now he knows.

Can't keep denying acknowledgment of the feeling at any level. After, over the phone, he told Steve, about how, he's been waiting since age 12, for Max to own up to feeding his secret stash of chocolate bars to the opossums in the alley beside their California apartment. And Steve laughed so hard. So so hard and loud and breathless until he gave himself the hiccups.

And that's when Billy knew beyond any doubt. That he had fallen in love with a boy. With Steve Harrington.

He honestly doesn't care whether or not that will send him straight down to hell. But he can't stop picturing his mother's soft face, turned dark and stormy and disgusted. And there's nothing, now, that he can ever do to trick himself into believing she might come back. She'd never come back for him now.

Which shouldn't hurt as much as it does. Because he doesn't really want to see her anymore. After everything he's gone through after being left behind. But it does hurt. A shit ton. Because even after everything, he knows he'd still run straight into her arms if she ever came back to hold them out for him again.

Sunday, carry me, carry me down to the water

Wash me clean

I'm still struggling

Ah ah ah

Steve's knocking, now. After some obscure amount of time. And Billy has no idea how long he's been lying here. Doesn't even remember moving down to the floor.

He should stand up. Go let Steve in. But... Steve has a key. Billy gave it to him the same day the government paid for his move to a homey townhouse just on the edge of Hawkins.

So Steve can get in by himself if he really wants to. Which Billy hopes he won't. Knows he will. And. If he's being truly honest, he hopes he will, too.

Steve does.

Sunday, bury me under the weight of who you need me to be

Can't you see

I'm struggling

Ah ah ah

Billy keeps his eyes held shut as he hears Steve's key turn in the lock. But hums low in response to Steve's questioning call of, "Billy?".

So Steve finds him easy. Stands still against the wall of the living room. Looking down at Billy. But only for a few seconds before he says, "Hey," and, "Is it okay if I turn on the light?".

So Billy replies, "You can, but. I wish you wouldn't."

He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that Steve is nodding as he carefully steps over Billy and into the kitchen. As he gets down on the floor and lays perpendicular to Billy. As he scoots to the side and lifts Billy's head up a little until it's resting on his lap.

Steve plays with his hair. Runs his fingers through it and works it into braids that he unravels seconds after finishing.

Mmm, mmm

Ah ah ah

After several minutes, or maybe longer, Steve asks, "You still wanting to go down to the river today?".

I keep God locked in a picture frame

So I feel a little better 'bout my numbered days

Yeah I confess

He asks simple. Like yes or no. Like Billy should say yes if he wants to and no if he doesn't. Like he should want what he wants. And Billy does want to go. He does.

He says, "Yes."

The questions and the answers seem to sound the same

I'm just like the rest

Standing tall pretending not to be afraid

Ah ah ah

Billy sits in the passenger seat of Steve's Beemer. He'd kinda wanted to sit in the back. Lay across the second row seats. Would rather be horizontal right now. But, he also wanted to be close to Steve. To grip Steve's hand in his own, between their seats. So Billy is sitting in the passenger side.

From behind the wheel, Steve asks, "Why did you hang up? Right after we were laughing about Max and the opossums?"

And Billy frowns, because, he doesn't remember doing that. Drowns, because, he doesn't want Steve to be upset. And then he just, says it like it is, says, "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't even realize."

So Steve says, "oh," and nods. The way he does when he's trying to think. Trying to think too hard.

Sunday carry me, carry me down to the water

Wash me clean

I'm still struggling

The river is loud. Roaring. It's July, so. It's warm, too.

Steve doesn't say anything when Billy strips down to his boxers and wades right in. Billy finds a solid rock in the middle of the current, and sits on top of it. The water reaches up to his elbows. And the current isn't strong enough to drag him away. It's nice.

Billy only has to wait a few dozen seconds before Steve is splashing in after him. Fully dressed. In beige chinos and a long sleeved polo. Black socks and leather boots.

And Billy knows Steve will complain about his wet clothes later. But he'll still do this same thing next week.

Sunday bury me under the weight of who you need me to be

Can't you see

I'm struggling

Ah ah ah

Billy thinks he might cry. Because he can't stop going back to how, his mom thought he was an ocean. But he's always been a river. Fresh and not salt. Mud and not sand. Alligators, not sharks.

And her favorite animal was a whale. Blue whale.

And there are no blue whales in rivers.

Sunday come around, lift me up again

Never too proud for a helping hand

I've been feeling down

Can you hear me now? (Ah ah ah)

But. Steve's favorites are crayfish and frogs. He loves plucking them out of the riverbed and bringing them over to show Billy.

Steve loves Billy because. Not despite. He loves him fully clothed in an Indiana river.

Sunday come around, lift me up again

I'm never too proud for a helping hand

I've been feeling down

Can you hear me now?

And while Billy's been contemplating, Steve's been wandering. And now he's drifting back, hands held closed over something living. And when he gets over to Billy, he smiles wide all the way up to his eyes. All the way to shining.

Says, "Found a little dude," and, "wanted you to see."

So Billy holds out his hand. And he's smiling too now. Shining alongside his favorite of river dwellers.

Sunday carry me, carry me down to the water

Wash me clean

I'm still struggling

Ah ah ah

It's a crayfish this time. Smooth and hard and pissy. It pinches the skin between Billy's thumb and pointer finger as Steve passes the little guy over. Though it doesn't really hurt.

But Steve still says, "Shit," and is fast on his way to saying sorry when Billy starts laughing.

He's laughing low and heavy and full. Because it doesn't hurt, but, if he doesn't laugh he'll probably cry. Because he's really happy. Really. And he'd been thinking this illicit happiness should feel wrong. That maybe he gets to be happy, but he doesn't get to feel warm about it. But it's not wrong. He was thinking all wrong. Because Steve and his crayfish feel like embers and soft candle light. Like crackling fall leaves and drunken beach-side bonfires.

Sunday bury me under the weight of who you need me to be

Can't you see

I'm struggling

Ah ah ah

And yes. Billy's mom would glare. But Stevie is smiling and back to shining and then laughing here with Billy. So it's not enough to spin the gold back into straw. It's not enough to dry out the flow of the river.

Aah, ah-ah-ah

Aah, ah-ah-ah (Ah ah ah)

Aah, ah-ah-ah

Aah, ah-ah-ah (Ah ah ah)

The crayfish had swum away sometime between the "shit" and the flooding of Billy's riverbank. And Steve has stepped closer. Billy wraps his arms around his love's waist. Pulls him further in. Steve reaches up, cradles Billy and his stubble in his palms. Leans forward until their foreheads are colliding. Softly.

But then he gasps. And whispers, "Wait. Billy, don't move."

Billy doesn't entirely listen, tilts his head down to follow Steve's gaze. And there it is. A spring peeper sitting in the curve of his right elbow.

The frog chirps a baritone melody. But it's a chorus frog. Can't reach a symphony without the rest of its choir.

Harmony. Billy gets it now. Why there need to be layers of sound.

So, "I hung up because, I've never been in love like this before."

Steve gives another one of his nods. Follows with a soft, "I know."

Billy can't help the harmonic smile or the single tear as, "Because, I do. I love you, Stevie."

And Steve keeps the crack in his voice with, "Well. I know I've said it before but, I love you too, Bills."

It makes sense now. It does. The months trapped in a parallel universe. The connection to a monster-forged body. The dying extension of self. The living reality. The asthma and the trauma and the phantom pain. And no. It doesn't make it worth it. But it helps it make sense.

Everything makes so much damn sense when Steve guides Billy's head to the curve of his neck and hums softy in tune with the lone spring peeper. Harmony.

59 notes · View notes

jamaisjoons · 4 years

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intro: her XII ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: light angst ⋆ fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: its basically just full of fluff, like nothing but fluff, reader is kinda stressed, but mostly fluff, minor possessive/jealous namjoon at the end

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: yeetHAW SURPRISE !! I managed to finish it off while on my break at work !! so here you go !!!

⏤ thank you to my love @shadowsremedy for beta reading this for me !

⇥ Previous || Masterlist || Next

Eyes strained from the hours of paperwork, you sink back into your seat before exhaling deeply, and rubbing your tired eyes, your shoulders deflate wearily. Lately, work has been even more exhausting than usual: the aquarium transferring two nurse sharks to the exhibit. However, as the head veterinarian, it meant that everything falls onto you to make sure it runs smoothly: that the sharks are healthy and well looked after, that they’ll acclimatise to their new tank properly, that they won’t undergo any major stress of any kind; just general things like that. Though, the last one was easier said than done. Moving and handling of any animals would cause them stress.

Taking another deep breath, you roll your shoulders - working out the kinks in them. Once done, you look back at the huge stack of paperwork. Thick manila files are piled one on top of each other - and all of them need to be read and signed. Different though they are, whether they be health records, or the transfer document or even just general admin work make up the stack - they all have one thing in common. Every single one of them mocks you ceaselessly; the foreboding tower reminding you of the amount of work you still have to complete.

Defeated sigh escaping your lips, you decide to get back to work. After all, lamenting your workload isn’t going to deplete it. Though, before you can start looking at the next file, your phone rings from beside you. With a side glance, you sneak a peek at the contact ID, only to perk up when your boyfriend’s name flashes across the screen. Work long forgotten, you automatically move to pick it up; your finger sliding across the screen as you answer the call.

“Joonie! Hey,” you answer enthusiastically. Already, you can feel the tension in your muscles fade - the sounds of Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook yelling while Namjoon hushes them instantly soothing you.

“Hey babe, do you know what time you’ll be done today?” Namjoon’s deep voice echoes across the receiver.

Eyebrows furrowing, you glance at the clock that hangs above the door to your office. Seeing the time, your eyes widen. It’s already half six; you were supposed to be done half an hour go. “Oh shit-” you breathe out, “I didn’t even realise the time. I’ve still got a bunch of work to do though,” you continue, almost despondently. It’s a Friday evening, which means that you have the weekend to look forward to - but, you can’t leave until you’ve completed at least the more important paperwork.

“Ah- okay. Will you be coming over or going home?” Namjoon asks.

You hear Jungkook yelling in the background, cries of ‘No! Come over,’ echoing across your speaker. Biting your lip, you stare at the pile of paperwork. Once again, it mocks you - letting you know you can’t clock out until it’s done - no matter how much you want to go home to Namjoon and the boys.

“I- I’m not sure. I may finish really late and I don’t want to disturb you or anything,” you reply, barely trying to hide the upset in your voice.

Hearing your tired, strained tone, “Come over Angel, we’ll have a quiet night in. It’s also Yoongi-hyung’s birthday tomorrow, so we’re probably going to do something,” Namjoon says. Face crumpling, you nod - a quiet night in with your boyfriend sounds just like the stress relief that you need.

“Babe?” Namjoon calls out.

Realising that he can’t see you, “Oh! Sorry- yes, that sounds great. I’ll come over when I’m done. Do we need anything for Yoongi’s birthday?” you ask, a slight frown on your face. The stress of work had clearly gotten to you - you had no idea that it was already Yoongi’s birthday. It seems like you were just celebrating Hoseok’s birthday yesterday. Not that you’d done much - he’d just wanted a quiet dinner; which of course, was easier said than done, when half the guests were toddlers.

“Hmmm no- although, Taehyung mentioned wanting to bake Yoongi-hyung a cake. But that sounds messy, and I don’t really know how to bake so,” Namjoon replies offhandedly.

Perking up immediately, “we can do that! Please, Joon? Can we bake? Pretty please?” you practically beg. Across the phone, Namjoon pauses, before you hear a soft laugh.

“Someone’s excited. But alright, we can do that. Well, you can. We both know I’m useless in the kitchen,” Namjoon answers. Suppressing a yelp of victory, you pump your fist in the air before stilling. Cheeks searing with the heat of embarrassment, you silently thank whatever guardian angel is watching you. At least your boyfriend hadn’t seen that. “Alright, I have to go. Taehyung wants a snack and he looks like he’s about to cry,” Namjoon continues.

Laughing, “well you better go then. If Tae cries, that’ll only set Chim off too,” you respond knowingly.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll see you at home then,” Namjoon says. Then, with a sweet goodbye, he hangs up the phone.

Placing your phone back onto your desk, you turn back to the huge stack of paperwork. Invigorated by your conversation with Namjoon, and the thought of going home to your boyfriend and his sons - not to mention the prospect of baking - you suddenly feel a renewed fire in your stomach. Hastily, you grab the next file before you begin reading it. All of a sudden, you have a reason to finish up your work.

As you’d planned, after you’d completed all the important paperwork, you’d gone home to grab your baking equipment before driving straight to your boyfriend’s home. Seeing the stress on your face late last night, Namjoon had gathered you into his arms before taking you to bed - the boys already being fast asleep by the time you had arrived. You remember Namjoon helping you change, and how attentive he’d been the entire night; however, you don’t remember falling asleep. As a matter of fact, the only thing that you do remember, is that you haven’t had such good sleep in over a week. Somehow, falling asleep in Namjoon’s arms, had melted all the stress of your hectic week and you’d woken up feeling completely refreshed.

Thus, you find yourself in Namjoon’s kitchen the next day. Namjoon sits at the kitchen counter, his laptop and various pieces of paper scattered on the surface as he tries to get some work done. Tried, being the keyword. Really, he’d given up a while back and instead, his eyes are glued to your figure as you flit about his kitchen. You’re still dressed in your pyjamas and, well, so is he. In fact, no one had really felt like getting changed, and so even his sons are still running about in last night’s clothing.

Still, his eyes rake over your figure. With your hair piled into a messy bun on the top of your head: stray flyaways flying about everywhere as you concentrate on baking Yoongi’s cake, and dressed in a pair of loose flannel bottoms and his hoodie: the large grey article of clothing hanging from your frame; you’re the epitome of comfort. Flour stains the material, and he can see little gooey strings of eggs in some spots. You’re nothing but an unkempt mess - but still, you look incredibly endearing.

Soft melodious music echoes through his speakers, your body softly swaying to the beat as you hum along to the tune and involuntarily, Namjoon finds his eyes softening at the utter ease in your figure. The sweet scent of vanilla wafts through the air, causing Namjoon’s mouth to water at the sugary, enticing smell. You’re in the middle of icing the cake - Namjoon’s eyes following your graceful movements as you cover the sponge with the creamy frosting.

Helpless under your enchantment, Namjoon decides to abandon his work: it’s not like he was getting anything done in the first place. Standing up from his seat, he crosses his kitchen and within a few moments, you feel your boyfriend behind you. Namjoon’s strong arms curl around you, his hands loosely resting on your hips. At the feel of his comforting presence, you instinctively relax further, your back moulding against his chest.

His head immediately drops down to your neck, his nose nuzzling the flesh as he presses his feathery kisses to the column of your throat. Feeling his plush lips brush over your supple flesh, “Joonie, stop that,” you giggle.

“No,” Namjoon pouts, pressing another kiss to your skin - this time just under the corner of your jaw.

Playfully batting his face - Namjoon narrowly dodging - “I’m trying to concentrate!” you reprimand, thought from the light laughter in your voice, Namjoon knows you’re not really mad. So, instead, he lets out his own teasing growl before squeezing your hips.

“So was I, but you distracted me. So, now I’m going to distract you,” he replies. You roll your eyes at his logic, but don’t say anything else. Rather, you return back to frosting your cake.

Namjoon steps a little closer to you, his arms snaking around your hips so he can hold you in his arms. You feel his large palms intertwine before resting against your lower abdomen. Softly, his body sways with yours, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. Namjoon knows he’s not the best dancer, yet, with you in his arms, he can’t help, but follow the gentle swaying of your body - the movement coming easily to him. Meanwhile, from beside the two of you, Taehyung’s little form peers over the edge of the counter, his little hands braced on the marble countertop as he pokes his head over the ledge. “What are you doing now?” he asks, his eyes following your movements curiously.

“I’m crumb coating the cake - so that none of the cake crumbs gets on the outside later on,” you reply without skipping a beat.

“Do you like baking, Noona?” Taehyung’s soft voice continues as he turns to you in intrigue. Breaking from your concentration while you run the stainless steel palette knife over the edge edges, you glance at Taehyung.

“Mhm, it’s one of my favourite things,” you reply. Taehyung nods his head, but turns back to the half iced cake. One eyebrow raising, you attempt to suppress a little giggle. “Do you want to help me, Tigger?” you ask. All of a sudden, Taehyung perks up before nodding enthusiastically.

From behind you, Namjoon uncurls his arms from your frame, only to pull one of the barstools closer before picking his son up and depositing him onto the cushion. Once he’s sure his son is safely on the stool, he turns back to you - only to be stopped when Jimin tugs at his trouser leg. Motioning to his father with grabby hands, Jimin looks at his father with wide eyes and a soft pout. Immediately, Namjoon bends over, and stepping to your side, easily lifts Jimin up into his arms.

Turning his eyes, Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle at the sight of his final child. Unbothered, Jungkook sits with his back to one of the cabinets - his eyes glued to the screen of his game and a bowl of snacks situated next to him. Unlike Jimin and Taehyung, it seems Jungkook couldn’t care less about the cake. Though, he supposes, it makes sense: since it was originally Taehyung’s idea - and Jimin always wanted to do whatever Taehyung did - and vice versa.

Namjoon turns back to you - just in time to see Taehyung reach over to grab the bowl of icing. However, in his son’s enthusiastic haste - he almost knocks into the cake. Acting on reflex, honed from years of chasing his troublemaking twins, Namjoon’s hand shoots out and steadies the cake - his fingers gripping the cake board to prevent it from toppling over.

Turning to his middle child, Namjoon looks at him with soft reprimanding eyes, “be careful, Taehyung, we don’t want to ruin ____’s hard work now, do we?” he says.

“Sorry, daddy,” Taehyung says sheepishly.

Seeing the slight pout, and the way his eyes darken, “It’s alright! We got it in time, didn’t we?” you say, winking at Taehyung while petting his hair. At your words, and realising you’re not mad at him, the sadness in Taehyung’s eyes fades away. Once he’s perked up, you angle the handle of the palette knife to Taehyung.

Eagerly, but with more restraint this time, Taehyung grabs the utensil from you. You help him dip it into the bowl of icing - then, wrapping your large hand around his, you both begin layering the frosting over the rest of the cake. With the two of you frosting the sponge, Namjoon and Jimin stand next to you both - Jimin pointing out different places that need more buttercream while Namjoon simply watches. Though, every now and then his eyes dart to the buttery icing, his mouth salivating at the mere sight of it.

Eventually, once the cake has been iced, you drop the palette knife back into the bowl before pushing it to the side. Unnoticed to you, Namjoon’s eyes follow the movement, his eyes lighting up when he notices a soft mound of the buttercream still left over. Briefly, he contemplates whether he can sneak some away from you and his sons - but that will have to come later.

Meanwhile, you cross the kitchen, and grab your bag of store-bought decorations. If you had more time, you’d consider making them yourself - but sadly, that wasn’t the case this time. Upending the bag, you scatter the boxes and packets across the counter. Immediately, Taehyung and Jimin squeal - their small pudgy hands moving to grab the different packets.

“This one!” they both shout simultaneously, holding up different packages of cake decorations. With a laugh, you nod at both of them.

Stepping back slightly, Namjoon watches as Jimin and Taehyung move in closer to you, their knees perched on the barstools as their hands and chests lean onto the counter. Taehyung’s face is a picture of concentration as he hands one of his embellishments while Jimin points out where you should put them before they swap, Jimin handing you one of his decorations and Taehyung pointing out where you should put it.

There’s no real rhyme or reason to the way the boys garnish the cake and shortly, it’s covered in a plethora of random decorations. Soon, both rainbow coloured and chocolate sprinkles clutter the top, various different embellishments, from chocolate buttons to sugar flowers, litter the cake edges sporadically; and the borders are piped in different sized peaks of soft buttercream. Namjoon knows you love to bake: you’d mentioned once in passing that you used to do it as a stress reliever during university, and he also knows that cake decorating is one of your favourite things: your Instagram feed chock-full of random pastry chefs and amateur bakers. Yet, you still listen to his sons - entertaining their chaotic creativity as you adorn the cake with a plethora of confectionary and colours.

Jungkook is the only one still not involved, by some surprise, and with a quick side glance, Namjoon sees his son’s eyes still glued to the screen of his game console, his hand reaching for his snacks every now and then. Realising both you, and all three of his sons, are otherwise preoccupied, Namjoon turns back to the bowl of icing left forgotten on the side of the counter. Instantly, his eyes light up, and with sneaking glances towards you and his sons, he licks his lips before turning back to the bowl.

Slowly, Namjoon steps away from you - moving purposely so as not to arouse your suspicions. For most of it, you barely notice him, too engrossed in your cake - however, his strange actions garner Jungkook’s attention. Putting his game down, Jungkook watches as his father sneaks across the kitchen, only to quietly pull out a spoon and dip it into icing. Slowly, Jungkook waddles to his father, eyes trained on the way Namjoon licks up the sugary cream from the spoon.

“Daddy, can I have some?” Jungkook asks as he tugs his father’s leg - trying to draw Namjoon’s attention.

“Okay, but don’t tell Noona,” Namjoon quietly whispers. Easily, he picks up his son, only to place him onto one of the seats before pushing the bowl towards him. Jungkook quickly nods - but doesn’t say anything else, instead, poking his little fingers into the frosting.

So engrossed in your cake, you barely notice Jimin sneak away - leaving you and Taehyung to your devices as he joins his father and younger brother. However, after a little while longer, Taehyung disappears as well. Nonetheless, you chalk it down to getting bored and continue to finish up the last of the cake. Once it’s done, you let out a little victory cheer before looking up. However, the first thing you notice, is that Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s fingers are all in the bowl, their lips stained with the white buttercream frosting.

“What are you doing? You know that’s basically all sugar - it’s not good for you. What would Namjoon say-” you automatically begin reprimanding. However, when you spot your boyfriend next to them, looking equally guilty - plush lips wrapped around a metal spoon - you let out a little sigh and shake your head. “You know what, he won’t say anything because I have a feeling he’s the reason you’re eating plain buttercream in the first place,” you continue, looking at him pointedly.

Immediately, the three boys nod.

“Daddy said not to tell you! It’s all his fault!” Jungkook says, pointing to his father.

“Yeah! Daddy said we could,” Taehyung chimes in. Swiftly, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it in order to suppress your giggle.

“I saw Daddy and Jungkook eating it, so I wanted to as well,” Jimin butts in.

“Jimin! Taehyung! Jungkook!” Namjoon gasps, looking at his sons in utter betrayal. The sight of his shocked eyes causes you to splutter, and then, immediately you’re laughing.

“Oh my god, they totally ratted you out,” you snicker. Across the counter, Namjoon pouts, his sons giggling to themselves too.

“I can’t believe this. My own sons sold me out to my own girlfriend,” Namjoon teasingly laments. With another snicker, you cross the kitchen and towards him. Standing in front of him, you wind your hands around his waist and leaning on your tiptoes, you kiss the tip of his nose.

“It’s what you deserve, letting them eat plain sugar like that,” you answer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. Naturally, Namjoon’s arms wrap around you as he draws you closer to him.

Dipping his head down, he brushes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp. Reflexively, you poke your tongue out to lick your lips and a breathy moan falling from your mouth when you taste the sweetened vanilla on your lips. “It’s not funny, my love. I’m really hurt, you know. Will you kiss it better?” Namjoon asks, a roguish smile curling onto his lips. His warm breath fans across your face, your eyes fluttering as the saccharine aroma of both Namjoon and the buttercream wafts through your nose.

Breath hitching in your throat, your hands trail up his chest to curl around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “It’s a figurative hurt, where am I supposed to kiss?” you reply cheekily, your own eyes twinkling with mischief as you look up at him through the thick of your lashes.

Once again, Namjoon hums. It’s deeper this time, however - a little more sensuous. “I think I know,” he replies. Then, without giving you any time to think about it, his lips descend onto yours.

Cake box in one hand, and Jungkook holding your other, you walk into the lobby of JinHit’s building - Namjoon ushering in his twins behind you. As soon as you get in, you notice Seokjin and Hoseok standing, speaking to each other.

“Hyung!” Taehyung calls out, tugging on his father’s hand as he tries to run towards them. Immediately, Seokjin and Hoseok turn around, greeting the five of you with a wave.

“Oh wow, did you buy a cake?” Seokjin asks, peering at the white cake box in curiosity.

Immediately, “Noona baked it! Hyungie and I helped!” Jimin says proudly, a bright smile on his face.

Hoseok quirks his eyebrows, “did you now? And where was Jungkookie in all of this?” he questions, turning to the youngest.

“Playing games,” Jungkook simply shrugs, not thinking anything of it. His deadpan answer causes Hoseok and Seokjin to laugh before they nod.

“Alright, and I assume you just watched?” Seokjin chuckles while clapping Namjoon on the back.

Before he can reply, “watched? More like distracted me and then ate the rest of the icing,” you snort - once again looking at him pointedly. Namjoon’s mouth curls, his ears burning bright red as he pouts.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Hoseok replies, nodding sagely, “did he try eating sugar out of the spoon again?” he continues. Both you and Seokjin snicker, Namjoon letting out a sigh of exasperation.

“Can we just go? We’re here to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday, not make fun of me,” Namjoon pouts, a slight whiny tone to his voice. Seeing the sheepishness in his eyes, you adjust the cake box in your hold before shuffling closer and kissing his jaw in comfort. Head angling down to you, Namjoon smiles softly in thanks before returning your kiss - his lips brushing against your temple.

“Gross,” Hoseok gripes playfully, causing both you and Namjoon to stick your tongues out at him.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go, Yoongi’s probably wondering where we are,” Seokjin says - playing peacemaker in Yoongi’s stead. Then, he gestures the lot of you to follow him.

Contrary to Seokjin’s words, however, Yoongi was in no way waiting for you. Walking into the meeting room upstairs, you come to an empty room - Seokjin letting out a sigh of frustration. “God damn it! I told him to meet us here. Did he forget?” Seokjin grouses, his eyebrows furrowing in exasperation.

“Knowing hyung, he’s still in his studio,” Hoseok points out. His words, however, only causes Seokjin to let out a sigh of frustration.

“Let’s just go to his studio,” he replies before ushering you out of the room. Once again, he navigates the lot of you through the various corridors of the building - before you come upon a large wooden door. A gold plaque hangs on it, the words ‘Genius Lab’ embossed in black on the metal plate.

Aggressively, Seokjin begins knocking - practically banging his fist against the door. “Yah! Min Yoongi! Did I not tell you to be in the meeting room?” he yells. Instantly, the door swings wide open, Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Quirking an eyebrow, “I was waiting - but you’re like ten minutes late - so I decided to do some work,” Yoongi replies, his face passive as usual.

“Sorry, there was a bit of traffic,” you apologise with a small bow. Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, however, before he can say anything, Namjoon’s sons are running up to him.

Jimin and Taehyung wrap their arms around each one of his legs, Jungkook standing between them and winding his own arms around Yoongi’s waist. “Yoonie hyung! Happy birthday!” they sweetly chorus at the same time. Immediately, Yoongi’s face softens, and instinctively, he pets their heads, a shy smile on his face while he nods at them.

A bright grin plastered onto his face, “Noona, Hyungie and I baked you a cake!” Jimin says proudly, causing you to shyly hold up the cake box. Yoongi’s eyes twinkle slightly before he’s stepping to the side. Taking his cue, you all quickly enter his studio.

Swiftly, you unbox the cake, and while Hoseok holds it up - you sing happy birthday. The entire time, Yoongi’s cheeks are bunched up under his eyes, his bright gummy smile on display while he bounces in place. After you’re done, and Yoongi’s cut his cake, everyone sporadically finds seats around Yoongi’s studio. Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung sit on the floor, the younger twin in the older man’s lap as Jimin happily eats his cake beside them. Seokjin sits on the sofa, Jungkook in his father’s lap - leaving you to sit on the sofa arm besides Namjoon.

“So, are you working on anything interesting?” you ask, idly chewing on your cake while addressing Yoongi.

Nodding, “I’m actually working on a new song - do you want to hear?” Yoongi asks. Eyelids blowing wide open, you freeze in place before your jaw drops open.

“A-Are you sure?” you stutter out. Was he really offering you an exclusive sneak peek of his future track? God, sometimes you really forget that your, now, closest friends are huge musical celebrities. Sure, your own boyfriend is a famous rapper, as is Hoseok, but other than that discussion about their upcoming tour, you’ve never really gotten involved with their jobs. Namjoon rarely tended to bring it up at home, wanting to focus more on his sons and your relationship. Besides, Yoongi had always been your favourite rapper - and just the thought of getting to listen to a demo of his song has your heart racing.

“Earth to ____?” Seokjin says, waving his hand in front of your face with a playful laugh. Quickly, you bat his hand away before glaring at him with a pout, your cheeks heating from embarrassment.

“Look at her! She’s blushing like a little girl, oh my god,” Hoseok begins taunting, then he pauses. “Wait- didn’t you mention Yoongi is your favourite rapper when we first met?” he asks, a knowing smirk curling onto his face.

Features twisting into a scowl, you sneer at him, “well it’s definitely not you. You’re too mean to me,” you snidely reply, before sticking your tongue out.

Wincing jokingly, “ouch, you really wound me, ____” Hoseok dramatically sighs, clutching his heart and shaking his head.

“It’s because I’m the nicest to her,” Yoongi chimes in, nodding sagely.

“Hey! I’m nice to her,” Hoseok yells in indignation.

However, ignoring Hoseok, “Wait- Yoongi, are you sure I can listen?” you ask, remembering Yoongi’s first question.

He turns back to you before nodding and rolling his chair a little to the side. “Yeah, come on,” Yoongi beckons. Eyes lighting up with joy, you shoot off the sofa and over to him in an instant.

The moment you move, Namjoon blinks at the unexpected movement. The entire time Hoseok had teased you, he’d felt a little upset. Of course, he’d always known Yoongi is your favourite rapper - and he’d never begrudge you for it. Nonetheless, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little upset that he’s not your favourite. Gaze trained on you, Namjoon watches as Yoongi pressed one of the headphone speakers to his ear, offering the other to you, before opening up the track and clicking play.

As soon as the beat begins, your eyebrows knit together, your lips a firm line. He knows the expression well: very rarely do you bring home paperwork - both of you prefer to keep work out of your relationship - but the few times you have, he’s watched that exact same expression of concentration, your pen flitting over the papers. Every now and then, your eyes twinkle, a short gasp falling from your lips as you nod to the beat. Unable to help himself, Namjoon cannot stop the swell of jealousy, sadness and a slight twinge of possessiveness that wells up inside him.

When you shuffle a little closer to Yoongi, your ears pressed together as you share the headphones, Namjoon knows he can’t watch anymore. Quietly, he passes Jungkook over to Seokjin before shuffling out of the room. Hoseok and Seokjin look at each other, exchanging a brief knowing glance between themselves. As soon as you spot Namjoon’s movement from the corner of your eye, before you watch him softly slam the door shut, you draw away from Yoongi.

Turning to the other two, “Is he okay?” you ask, your eyebrows knotting together in concern.

“I think he’s a little jealous,” Seokjin replies softly. For a moment, you almost dismiss him, until you see the seriousness in his eyes.

“What? Why?” you ask, confusion lacing your voice.

“Just watching you and Yoongi, maybe? Like we all know there’s nothing going on, but like, yeah,” Hoseok tries explaining, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s probably a little mad too,” he continues. Seeing your face fall, Hoseok quickly shakes his head, “Not at you! At himself for feeling the way he is- he’s probably just trying to control himself and needed a breather,” he finishes. Placated by Hoseok’s words, you nod, knowing he’d never lie to you. However, his words don’t stop your heart clenching in your chest, your stomach dropping. You’d never wanted to make him feel upset - or jealous.

“I think I’ll go speak to him,” Yoongi cuts in, already getting up from his seat. Quickly, you shake your head, already shooting up to your feet.

“No!” you abruptly interject. Shuffling over to the cake, you cut a large piece of it before placing it on a paper plate. “It’s okay. I think it’d be better if I go. Watch my boys for me yeah?” you say once you're done, before shooting out of the room, not even waiting for a response.

The moment the door slams shut, the three of them turn to each other. “Do you think she noticed she used ‘my’ or…?” Seokjin asks.

With a wistful smile, “No, I don’t think she did,” Yoongi replies, shaking his head fondly.

“Well, looks like your Noona may become your mommy soon,” Hoseok chimes in as he directs his attention to the boys.

Ecstatically, Taehyung turns in Hoseok’s lap, looking at the older man in wide-eyed wonder. Standing up in his lap - Hoseok wincing when the entirety of his weight pushes down on his legs - Taehyung presses his pudgy hands against Hoseok’s cheeks before squishing them together, “Really?” the toddler asks, his voice full of excitement and hope.

Laughing, Hoseok nods his head in Taehyung’s hold, “really,” he replies. Seokjin and Yoongi nodding along to his sentiment.

a/n: this was actually supposed to have smut in it but like it got so long without it that i’ve just decided that the next chapter will be solely smut 🤡 so owo look forward to that !! whenever it comes out !!

Kofi | Masterlist

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

After Midnight pt. 3 (Feysand)

Part 1 | Part 2

Uhhh this is kinda long and took me FOREVER to write which was v annoying. Disclaimer: stole a line from Grey’s Anatomy what’s new

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~Feyre~

I’m aware that pacing is one of my bad habits. My ex told me all the time how it drove him crazy to watch me go back and forth, back and forth. Most of the time, I can catch myself doing it and stop.

But right now, I think I’d find a way to pace even if I were chained to a tree.

Because I’m so freaking nervous about Rhysand coming over that I’m practically coming out of my skin.

Which is ridiculous, because the man has seen me naked, for gods sake.

He’s done more than just see, too.

And yet the thought of him staying here, sleeping next to me all night, has me ready to run for the hills. Somehow, sharing a bed is more intimate to me than having sex to me.

It’s fucked up, I know.

But the last man I shared a bed with...

There was a level of trust there, and it was broken. And knowing that this is the only way to rebuild the ability to give that trust doesn’t make it any easier.

I also know that if I go downstairs, I’ll end up drinking myself stupid to make this easier, so I’ve asked Rhysand to just meet me up here. And to make myself even more miserable, I’m early.

I mean, I’m always a few minutes early, but I somehow forgot we decided to meet later than usual and got here an hour ago.

Which gave me plenty of time to start freaking out.

A knock on the door snaps me out of my nerves-induced pace, and I tiptoe to the door and look through the peephole, both excited and anxious when I see Rhysand there.

Just like last week, he's wearing dark pants and a thin white shirt that does nothing to hide the body underneath. I think he does it to drive me crazy, honestly, because the sight of all that tattooed muscle-

“Are you going to let me in?”

Shit.

I swing the door open, already blushing, and say, “Sorry.”

He looks down at me, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Hi, Feyre.”

The way he says my name is somehow so full of innuendo it threatens to send my cheeks scarlet, but I say politely, “Hi, Rhys.”

He walks into the room, dropping a backpack I refuse to acknowledge on the floor. “How was your week?”

Well, I spent the entire seven days fretting about what might happen tonight and was barely able to eat anything, so not that great. “It was fine. Yours?”

His lips twitch. “Also fine.”

Then he gives the biggest, fakest yawn I’ve ever seen--throwing in a stretch, too--and says, “Well, I’m exhausted. Want to go to bed?”

He’s so damn nice, it makes me want to slap him. “Okay,” I agree, walking to one side of the bed and pulling the covers back.

I’m already dressed in my sleep shorts and a tank top, but grabs his bag and heads to the bathroom.

I can do this, I tell myself, not at all believing it. He’s nice, and it’s just sleeping. Most women would kill to sleep next to someone who looks like him.

The last part of that thought is confirmed a second later when Rhysand steps out of the bathroom in low-hanging shorts and nothing else.

His tan chest is on full display, and even though I’ve seen and touched every inch of it, I find myself studying it once again.

I suddenly wish I had a paintbrush and an empty canvas.

The urge shocks me. I haven’t thought about painting, haven’t yearned to pick up a brush, since before everything happened. If I’m being honest, long before everything happened.

“I thought we weren’t doing anything sexual tonight,” he murmurs, voice a little deeper.

“We aren’t,” I confirm, forcing my eyes to his perfectly innocent chin.

“Well then put your horny eyes away,” he scolds with a smile, walking over to flop on his half of the bed.

I smother a laugh with my hand and get in the bed next to him, trying to ignore the warmth leaking from his skin to mine.

Neither of us move to turn the small lamp off, so we lay there in the soft light, perfectly silent.

I’m lying down in a nice hotel room with a good looking man. My body is relaxed, and I am calm.

Rhysand is a very nice person, and even though I’ve known him for only three weeks, I don’t think he’d ever hurt me.

But his soft, even breathing is a constant reminder that he’s next to me, and the weight in the bed is too familiar, too close. Pressing my eyes shut doesn’t help, because it just allows me to think about the past two years and everything that happened in them.

My heart’s beating so fast and hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it, and a cool, horrible sweat breaks out over my back.

Tears threaten to spill over, and I’m discretely trying to take deeper breaths and force myself to calm down.

It doesn’t work in the slightest, so I throw the covers off, turn on my side away from him, and pretend he isn’t there.

Which becomes pretty damn impossible when a warm hand lands on my shoulder. “Feyre?”

“I’m asleep,” I lie.

His hand gets a little firmer, turning me on my back so he can see my face. Soft, understanding eyes notice everything written so painfully clearly on it, and he says, “You know what? I’m actually not that tired.”

I think I could love him for that sentence alone.

He rolls over and leans to reach into his bag. Sitting up, he throws a deck of cards on the bed between us and asks, “Fancy a hand of cards?”

Thank the gods above for warm, compassionate hookers.

“Sure.”

I sit up across from and diligently ignore the sight of all those tattoos as I watch him expertly shuffle and deal the cards. He looks so serious that it comes as a surprise when he murmurs, “I’m going to cheat if you start beating me.”

My lips curve into a smile. “That probably won’t happen. I’m horrible at cards.”

“Good. I’m a sore loser.”

One hand in and I see that he was serious. He completely kicks my ass without a shred of hesitation or mercy, but I don’t even care because I’m finally starting to relax. It’s easy to when he’s in front of me, making jokes and laughing and smiling.

He deals another hand without asking, somehow reading me well enough to know I need it. “If I win this hand, you have to answer a question.”

Oh, gods.

This is a recipe for disaster, because if I were him, I’d want to know why exactly I’m so fucked up.

But I can’t exactly turn him down when he’s been so kind and easy-going about everything. “Okay. Same if I win.”

“You won’t, but okay.”

Cocky bastard.

A few minutes later, I realize his confidence was well-deserved because once again, he beats me. “I think you might’ve cheated there, but you can ask your question.”

I’m mentally praying it’s nothing serious, because I don’t know if I could handle opening up to him while looking into his pretty eyes and-

“If you were arrested for a crime, what would it most likely be?”

I find myself laughing as I look to see he’s completely serious. “That’s what you want to know?”

He smiles back at me and just shrugs.

“Probably tax fraud,” I admit, laughing again when his eyebrows shoot up. “And before you ask, no, that isn’t why I’m well-off. I just have never understood those stupid forms, so I’ll probably mess up and end up in prison one of these days.”

Rhysand chuckles, grabbing the cards to deal another hand.

“What about you?”

Putting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward like he’s telling me a secret, he whispers, “Road rage. I’m a really angry driver, and I find screaming at people helps.”

He says it without any remorse at all, so it’s pretty believable.

“Same deal?” I ask, looking at the cards in front of me and knowing without a doubt I’m about to lose again.

Almost an hour later, we’ve asked each other the most ridiculous, absurd questions we can think of. I now know he’s afraid of sharks, doesn’t believe in black holes, and was voted most likely to succeed in high school.

He’s also found out about my sisters, my strong dislike of cilantro, and my dream of moving to France and working in the Louvre.

My stomach hurts from laughing so much, and there’s a quiet kind of peace inside me I haven’t felt in years.

We’re laying down, propped on our elbows, when we finish yet another game, and he puts his cards down and looks at me with unusually serious eyes.

I know he’s about to break our unspoken rule to not ask any personal questions, but for some reason, I don’t stop him.

“Why don’t you paint anymore?”

His tone tells me that if I want him to drop it, he will.

But... I want to tell him. I want to tell him what I went through, how it changed me. How it both broke me and made me stronger.

So I do.

“The last time I painted was over a year ago. I know it sounds cliche, but my art... it comes from a place inside of me that just isn’t there anymore.”

Rhysand nods, even though what I said didn’t make that much sense. “Do you think it’ll ever come back?”

“Yes,” I say, blushing and looking at his shoulder. I have no idea why I tell him, but I can’t seem to keep my fat mouth shut. “I actually wanted to paint earlier tonight.”

“Oh?” He gives me a knowing smile. “So those weren’t your horny eyes, they were your artist eyes?”

“Of course, you pervert.” They were both, to be honest, but I’m not about to tell him that when he’s looking at me like he just won the lottery.

“Well, you can paint me anytime you want.” He gives me a wink and waggles his eyebrows. “I posed nude a couple times in college.”

He says that so casually it takes me a second to really hear and understand his words. “You went to college?”

Rhysand freezes, and I think about how I asked that question and want to smack myself. I didn’t have to sound so damn surprised, even if it did catch me off guard. “I didn’t mean to sound like that, I just... I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Feyre, it’s okay. I just didn’t really realize I’d said that.”

“Okay.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he says something that completely surprises me. “I actually have a PhD.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs. “In what?”

“War and Maritime History.”

For a few seconds, I just lay there and stare at him, mouth swaying in the breeze. “You have a PhD in history?”

It’s almost impossible to imagine this insanely handsome man sitting in a dim, dreary classroom, talking about something as dull as history.

“I do.” His tone goes a little despondent as he murmurs, “I don’t use it, but I have it.”

He presses his lips together and reaches for the cards lying forgotten between us. I know I should listen to the silent cue, but I can’t stand seeing him like this.

“Why don’t you use it?” I ask, making sure to keep my tone casual and inviting. I want to give him the same opportunity he gave me.

He shuffles and deals, then looks at his hand and shakes his head, snatching up my cards to re-deal. At least he was honest about the cheating.

I hardly even notice, though, because he says, “I did for a few years. I was a professor at UVelaris.”

Now that, I can imagine.

Him standing in front of a body of students, driving all the females crazy, lecturing and being the cool, funny professor everyone wants to have.

“Not anymore?”

Rhysand shakes his head. “Didn’t pay enough.”

Something about his face tells me it’s time to drop it and change the subject. Which I guess makes it my turn to share.

So as I start to lose once again, I tell him, “I can’t go to sleep next to you because one day I woke up and my ex-fiance had locked me in our apartment.”

It’s blurted and quiet and a terrible way to spring that on someone, but he just says, “My hand is absolute garbage. You might actually win this one.”

“About time,” I mutter, weirdly relieved he didn’t start asking questions. Or worse, getting angry.

It should probably concern me that he somehow knows and can read me well enough to find the perfect response, but I’m too busy marveling at how easy this all feels with him.

Every minute of therapy is like a punch to the gut, but with Rhys... I feel like talking to someone who won’t judge, who won’t ever tell me what I should’ve done.

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I actually concentrate on our game, and when I finally defeat him, I stick my tongue out at him and smile.

He grins back, but something about it makes mine fall away.

Because it’s his turn, and even though I’m prepared for the worst, I don’t know what it is until I hear it.

“My cousin has a rare form of leukemia, and the university didn’t pay enough for me to cover her treatments.”

He says it quickly and quietly, just like I did, but it still carries a heavy punch that knocks the air out of my lungs.

Because he... I don’t have the words to describe him.

He gave up his dream job and does something he probably hates for his family. It’s the most selfless, heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard.

But I want to give him the space to say things at his own pace like he is for me. “Let’s play another hand. I’m feeling lucky.”

Rhysand nods, eyes looking relieved, and starts to deal again.

My turn.

“My ex was really paranoid and thought I was cheating on him, and he had to go out of town for a work trip. That’s when he... I was locked in there for five days, and he took my phone and laptop, so I didn’t have a way to call for help.”

Rhys is silent for a long moment, jaw clenched tight. But when he speaks, it’s in the same calm, easy tone as always. “There’s not enough luck in the world for you to beat me this time.”

I laugh despite the heaviness of the words I just spoke, and even though it’s his turn, I keep talking. “I went a little crazy. I tore the place apart. I tried to break a window to get out, but we lived on the eighth floor and had Plexiglas windows.”

Our game is long forgotten at this point, and I know I should shut up, but talking to him... I can’t stop. “By the time he got back, I was... different. I was having panic attacks all the time and couldn’t bring myself to eat, and then he just strolls through the door like nothing happened.”

“And he was angry with me. For making such a mess. He hardly noticed I was a shell of who I used to be. Over time, he’d broken me down so completely he was used to it.” Taking a deep breath, I shrug and say, “So I left. I didn’t take the time to pack a bag, I just saw the open door and ran.”

“How long ago was that?” he asks, the first time he’s said something besides his endless taunts about cards.

“A year ago. I was with him for three. It took me a long time to leave him because he wasn’t always emotionally abusive and harsh. There were times when he’d be so sweet and good to me. I wrote it off as mood swings for a long time since I loved him so much.” I take a deep breath and push away the memories threatening to drag me under. “But I got out.”

I say it to him, even though it’s as much a reminder to myself.

Rhysand smiles, reaching to slowly tuck my hair behind my ear. “And now you’re free.”

“I’m free,” I say, proud of myself for telling someone besides my shrink what happened.

It’s the first time I’ve ever opened up about our relationship willingly, and even though it was a brief, abbreviated version of the full story, I’m happy with myself.

But it’s a bittersweet moment, because I can’t forget what Rhys told me.

I can’t forget why he’s here, what he’s been through.

“I wish you were free, too,” I whisper.

And gods, is it true. Even though I’m happy I found him, even though I’m grateful he’s helping me, I wish he was free to go back to teaching. I wish he didn’t have to carry this burden.

I wish he wasn’t looking at me with enough sadness in his eyes to make my chest hurt.

He doesn’t respond, and I don’t want him to feel pressured, so I say simply, “I’m tired.”

Rhys nods, sweeps the cards up, and tosses them back into his bag. Then we’re laying there staring at each other, and I’m noticing the way the light turns his skin a deep bronze and lights up his eyes.

Something feels different between us now that we know the dirty details of each other’s lives. It feels less like a transaction.

It feels like he cares about me.

I scoot forward and put my head on his chest, grateful he turns on his back so I don’t feel too trapped.

His hand is on my hip, the other tucked behind his head, and as I put one leg over his, I think that I’ve never been this comfortable in my life.

Which surprises me, but I’m not complaining. Especially not as the hand on my back starts moving across my back in small, soothing circles that make my breathing slow.

Sleep comes for me quickly, but right before I close my eyes, I press a kiss to his chest and murmur, “Goodnight, Rhys.”

His response is the last thing I hear before I go to sleep, warm and safe in his arms.

I don’t really remember where I am when I wake up. My eyes stay shut as I wiggle around a little, finding myself very warm and comfortable and happy.

It’s only when someone’s breath brushes the back of my neck that I remember where I am, and who I’m with.

Rhysand is behind me, warm body wrapped around me. One arm is under my head, the other is mingled with mine, and his legs are tucked behind mine. His head is in the hollow of my neck, stubble tickling my skin slightly.

It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up in a man’s arms, and I’ve forgotten how good it feels.

Careful not to move too much, I stretch my legs and arms out, enjoying the weight of his body on mine.

He must feel be stirring anyway, because next thing I know, his mouth is pressing against my neck in a soft, sleepy kiss that makes me smile.

It’s natural and easy and it feels like we do this every morning.

I trust him, I realize with a slight start.

It’s insane to trust someone after such a short time of knowing each other, but I do. Especially after last night.

He listened to me and made me feel heard without being overbearing or giving me pity. He’s been there for me through panic and sadness and somehow managed to make me smile regardless.

And I want him to know how much it means to me.

So I turn my head and meet his mouth with mine.

Rhysand doesn’t hesitate, sweeping his tongue into my mouth in a rich, hazy kiss that makes me immediately want more. His hand cradles my head, arms loosely wrapped around me.

I turn around so I can put my hands in his hair, and I’m so lost in him I don’t even realize we’re violating our nothing-sexual rule.

I don’t want you to touch me unless you want to.

I attempt to pull away, but his mouth follows me, pressing kisses across my upper lip, the corner of my mouth. “Rhys,” I breathe, putting a hand on his shoulder to give myself room to think.

He pulls away, violet eyes heavy hooded and happy. “Feyre.”

His voice is scratchy and his hair is ruffled and he looks so goddamn edible I can’t resist anymore. “I want to touch you. Please.”

It’s almost comical how quickly the drowsiness fades from his eyes.

His full mouth opens and shuts, then repeats the process once again. And then he murmurs, “You never have to say please.”

Taking that as permission enough, I cup his face with my hands, running my thumb across his cheekbone. He leans into my touch, eyes drifting shut.

I feel like I’m in a dream as I run them lightly down his neck, across his shoulders.

I trace the lines of his tattoo until they stop, then my fingers explore his abs, the muscle tightening under them.

And then I slip my hand past the loose waistband of his sleep shorts.

Both of us react immediately. I completely stop breathing, mind going probably-permanently still at the feel of him in my hand, and Rhys’s eyes snap open so fast I watch as the dilate.

We’re both staring at each other, the only thing breaking the utter silence in the room his shallow breathing.

I run a finger over the length of him, then the tip, and he hisses my name.

“Please,” I repeat, ignoring the fact that he said I didn’t need to ask.

His jaw clenches as I wrap my hand around him, and he’s almost glaring at me as he says, “You’re going to fucking kill me.”

Fighting a smile, I start to move my hand and shrug. “This is about me, remember?”

He still wears a serious expression, but his lips twitch, so I keep going.

I’m moving so slowly I think we’ll both be insane by the time this is over, but I can’t bring myself to speed up. His hips are moving slightly, pushing into my hand, and it’s addictive to watch him react to me.

Rhys makes a low sound, then bites his lip as if to keep it in.

Which is a mistake, since now I want to do it, too.

Leaning in, I take that lip for myself, nibbling and sucking on it until he can’t take it anymore and starts kissing me again.

I scoot a little closer and move my mouth to his neck, and all I can breathe or taste or think about is Rhys.

A hand in my hair tells me this situation is unacceptable, and then his mouth is on mine again, desperate enough I take pity and move my hand faster.

His body is tight with pent-up energy, like he’s determined to keep himself still and let me have my fun.

One hand still between us, I run the other through his hair, pulling on it until he groans. I run my thumb over the end of him, and he mutters my name, voice holding a touch of warning that makes me smile. Even as I do it again.

He curses, and then he’s falling apart in my hands, and I pull away to watch, just like I know he did with me.

And it really is a sight to see.

His muscles bunch tight, jaw even tighter, and his eyes drift close as his head goes back and a moan falls off his lips. His breathing is heavy and there’s a heavy, satisfied look to him that I can’t get enough of.

Eventually, his eyes open again and find mine.

Rhysand kisses me softly, then pulls back enough to smirk and say, “You’re welcome.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and then the room falls back to silent.

And I realize I’m laying in bed with him, laughing, and practically begging to give him pleasure.

Fuck.

He gives me a strange look, cuing me into the fact that my panic is probably all over my face, so I smile, then roll out of the bed. “I have to go.”

“Interesting,” he states, tone making it clear he’s a filthy liar. A very amused liar.

I just roll my eyes and grab my bag, hoping that when I come out of the bathroom, he’ll be gone.

No such luck.

Ten minutes later, I’m fresh-faced and dressed, and he’s still lounging in bed, arm tucked behind his head. And the sight of all that beautiful, muscled, tattooed-

“You have your horny eyes on again.”

“You’re delusional,” I shoot back, mentally making a note to wear sunglasses around him at all times.

“Come here.”

I shake my head, knowing where that’ll lead even without the look on his face.

Because after last night, things feel different.

They feel casual.

Which is the exact opposite of what I wanted. I did this so I could find someone unattached and easy and... not him. He understands me better than I do, for gods’ sake.

And he’s caring and gentle and so understanding, and my brain is just having a hard time keeping up.

He opens his mouth to argue, but I throw a pillow at him from my safe spot halfway across the room. “I have to go to the museum.”

Technically, this is a lie. We’re on schedule for the next event. But I could go and get ahead. Which sounds like a great idea.

“That’s not even remotely believable, but alright.” He rolls smoothly to his feet, remind me once again how comfortable he is in his skin.

I look at the ceiling, and he makes an amused sound. “No self control. It’s sad, really.”

I hate him.

Even though I’m grinning because it’s true.

He throws on a dark shirt from his bag and steps into some jeans, all while I adamantly study my very interesting, unpainted nails.

And then we’re walking down the hallway to the elevator and standing across from each other. If I had a knife-

No. If I had a spoon, I could cut the tension in there with ease.

He smiles like he knows what I’m thinking, and I almost weep with relief as the doors open to the empty morning lobby.

Rhysand moves to get out, but I’m going down another floor to the garage, so I stay put, firm in my resolve to appear unaffected.

That plan goes out the window pretty quickly, considering he narrows his eyes at me, marches across the small elevator floor, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me.

I kiss him back without hesitation, both of us only pulling away when the door bings unhappily.

What the hell was that?

Did he just... kiss me goodbye?

What the hell was that?

I don’t have time to ask, because he steps into the lobby, looks me up and down thoroughly, and says, “See you next week, Feyre.”

Oh, gods.

I have to see him again.

Because even though I know I shouldn’t, there’s absolutely no way I’ll cancel.

I’m a stupid, stupid woman.

But I replay last night and this morning in my head, and as the elevator starts dropping to the garage, I realize I don’t even care.

_______________________________________________________

Part 4

Tags: @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @trinitybailey2003 @zukos-simp @that-other-pineapple @booksofthemoon @stardelia @awesomelena555 @queen-of-glass @whilma-warfstache @highqueenofelfhame @spyofthenightcourt @samcortlandisaginger

#feysand #feyre #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #rhys #acotar #acotar fanfiction #feysand fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

The Unbearable Pain of Life Itself

Pairing: FtM Trans Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,385

Warnings: Frankie’s in pain from his period. Lots of tears, one mention of blood, nausea and vomit, and boy oh boy I cannot seem to write Frankie without making him cry.

I just want an excuse to write the reader comforting Frankie okay? He’s had a hard day because of his period and all he wants is cuddles! Am I projecting? Yes! Do I feel any shame at this point? No!

Permanent taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

You knew Frankie woke up feeling like shit the second you rolled over in bed. How? Because he hadn’t left you coffee before leaving.

Should that be a sign of health? Not really. But whenever you didn’t wake up next to your boyfriend, or cuddled up on top of him more accurately, he left you a cup of coffee and a post-it note with a heart on it as a way to say ‘I love you’ when he left early for work.

Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you listened intently for any sign of your boyfriend throughout the house, wondering if he’d only just woken up and needed something. He wasn’t in the kitchen, as you’d originally thought. No, if he was, there would’ve been more crashing around and the distinct smell of coffee, considering he needed almost three cups before he was functional. But instead of a clumsy, sleepy Frankie, there was nothing. No usual cup waiting for you on the nightstand, no goodbye text or note from Frankie that he usually left whenever he had to leave for work early.

Flinging the covers off you, you realized exactly what was plaguing Frankie and why his normal morning routine had gone out the window, sympathy immediately flooding you as you crawled over the blood stain that was slowly drying on the sheets.

Slowly stripping the bed of the sheets and blankets, you headed into the kitchen, finding a half made pot of coffee and clear evidence that Frankie hadn’t been in the right headspace when he left for work. The bottle of knock off midol that worked just as well as the name brand shit was sitting next to the coffee pot, Frankie’s truck keys were still on the key hook, and he’d somehow managed to leave both his glasses and his hat at home. His birth control pills were sitting beside his empty coffee mug, the ring of spilled coffee making you wince as you put the mug in the sink.

You sighed. Today was going to be long.

All morning, you texted Santiago, who worked with Frankie and had picked him up that morning. According to Santi, Frankie was a mess, slowed by his pain and almost losing his meager breakfast multiple times.

Eventually, you two reached a conclusion. Santiago couldn’t make Frankie go home and rest. No one could. Well, no one except for you.

Around lunch, maybe five hours later, when you knew he’d be at his worst as the pain pills wore off, you scooped up the midol bottle and Frankie’s keys, getting into his truck. It was a bit bigger than your car, but was familiar territory for you all the same.

Driving out to Frankie’s work, you worried about him so much you almost crashed. He very rarely got his period, considering the pills he was on and the extensive hormone changes he’d been through. But every six months, it was hell on earth for a week. He had every symptom under the sun, and they were all horrible. He was essentially bedridden for seven terrible days. Most times, he tried to power through it, but he couldn’t fight himself for very long.

Pulling up to the building, you didn’t even bother locking the truck as you walked through the front doors.

Santiago was with Frankie in the small break room, Frankie’s palms pressed to his eyes in an attempt to block out the headache-inducing lights.

“Hon?” You murmured, crouching in front of Frankie’s bent form. “Oh honey, c’mere.”

Frankie surged forward, blindly falling into your open arms. He shook, body trembling with pain, core pulling tight in regular intervals.

“It’s okay,” you comforted, smoothing up and down his back. “I know, Frankie. Let’s go home, okay?”

A tiny whimper spurred you up, you supporting Frankie’s right side and Santiago coming over to support Frankie’s left as you headed back towards the front doors.

When he was finally in the truck outside, Santiago helped you buckle him in before stepping back and waving. You waved back, handing Frankie a water bottle and the midol. “Two more Frankie.”

He nodded, taking the pills and leaning back, breathing rhythmically, his left hand clutching your right. It wasn’t wisest to drive the truck with only one hand, but for Frankie, you bent the rules.

Getting him into the house was a trip. It took twenty minutes due to the cramps and the headache and the God forsaken nausea, but he was finally breathing heavy on the couch, near tears but at least lying down.

You wordlessly grabbed a few blankets and began to help Frankie out of his work clothes. He didn’t say anything or move much, only slowly thumbing over your wrist whenever it came near his hands and sleepily blinking at you as you draped the soft blankets over his body. You grabbed a heating pad, warming it in the microwave and placing it between Frankie’s hips. “Sleep,” you murmured, kissing his forehead and poking his nose. “It’s soup for dinner. Want a documentary?”

Frankie nodded, the pills and the exhaustion from a night of sleeplessness finally crashing down on him and causing him to flicker in and out of sleep as you set up a few episodes of Our Planet to play. He liked the ocean ones the most, so you made sure they were first as you walked away from his slumped form. You slowly headed towards your office, fully intent on getting a few hours of work in before clocking out early.

Two hours later, you sighed, leaning back from your computer and running your hands over your face. The documentaries in the background had been too distracting, so when you took a break to reheat the heating pad and check on Frankie, who was still asleep, you grabbed your headphones before shutting yourself back in your office. As you tugged said headphones off while scrubbing over your ears, you heard it. Sobbing.

Immediately abandoning everything, you raced out of the office and into the living room, where Frankie was laying, collapsed on the floor in tears, shaking violently and hiccuping on his own breaths as he cried.

“Frankie!” You fell to your knees, checking him over frantically. When you finally concluded that nothing was broken or hurt, you gathered him up in your arms, rocking slowly back and forth on the uncomfortable kitchen hardwood. “What’s wrong? Is it the cramps? The headache? Are you okay?”

Frankie shook his head, still sobbing. “You-“ he stuttered, breath shuddering. “You weren’t. I thought. You were gone!”

You stopped breathing, unable to exist beyond the pain in Frankie’s words. He hadn’t seen you, didn’t know where you’d gone, and for all he knew, you’d left the house completely. “Oh Frankie. I would never,” you breathed, smoothing over his hair. His hands, those damn shaking hands, gripped tightly at your shirt, as if you’d disappear if he let go.

“Frankie, darling,” you said, feeling a full body chill racing across his skin and knowing his body was swinging wildly from feverish and freezing. “Let’s go have a bath.”

Frankie didn’t object, allowing you to help him up and lead him to the bathroom. He was quiet, watching as you filled the tub with water and epsom salt. You left for a minute to grab a glass of cold water before hurrying back to the bathroom, not wanting to leave Frankie for any longer than you had to.

The entire time you and Frankie lounged in the tub together, your back against his chest, he was calm. Much calmer than he’d been earlier, so you could only assume the pills were starting to touch his pain.

Eventually, after both yours and his fingers had turned pruney and Frankie smelled like epsom salt and lavender soap, you hauled him out of the tub. He yawned, grinning sleepily as you handed him a warm towel and his favorite old pyjamas. So yes, the pills were finally working if Frankie was actually smiling.

“Nap time?” He asked as he shuffled after you into the living room.

“Snack time,” you corrected, grabbing one of the everything bagels Will had dropped off the other day and slicing it. “At least half of this, and then we can nap.”

Frankie pouted, but waited patiently for you to toast and butter the bagel. Usually, he insisted on a load of cream cheese, but his stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it right now. Hell, you even were hesitant to use too much butter.

You made yourself a bagel as well, also only using butter. When both were done, you and Frankie cuddled up on the couch and continued the documentary he’d been watching earlier. It was about sharks, something Frankie was surprisingly eager to watch. He absently ate the required half a bagel before he slumped against your side and then scooted down so he could lay his head in your lap. You smiled, humming Billy Joel and eating the other half of his bagel, knowing he probably wouldn’t.

About halfway through the Disney nature Oceans documentary, you felt Frankie shift. He rolled to his side, then to his back, and then sat up and bolted for the bathroom.

You paused the TV, following after Frankie with matching urgency. As he threw up the half a bagel he’d eaten, you rubbed his back, just waiting for it to be over.

When he finally sat back, he was sweaty and panting, eyes full of tears. You sighed, handing him a cup of water. “Drink. You need to rehydrate.”

Frankie nodded, accepting the water and taking small sips, slowly draining the cup over the course of a very agonizing forty five minutes, during which Frankie almost threw up again twice.

When it seemed his stomach had finally settled, you helped him up and onto the couch once more.

He was exhausted, immediately cocooning himself in the blankets and falling asleep again. You didn’t even bother with the documentary, instead grabbing an old book and reading out loud in an effort to keep Frankie asleep.

The book wasn’t a favorite of yours, but Frankie really liked it, so you indulged him. Eventually, when it seemed he was well and truly asleep, you detangled yourself from him, getting up to grab two cans of soup from the cabinet and putting Frankie’s heating pad through the microwave again. Normally, you’d make the soup, but with how Frankie was, you didn’t want to risk being away from him for too long.

Sure enough, when you sat back down, Frankie’s eyes blinked open slightly and he snuggled close. “Warm.”

You smiled, the rasp to his voice incredibly endearing. “Mhm. I know. Here.” You pressed the heating pad to Frankie’s body, and he made a small noise of bliss.

“What would I ever do without you?” He mumbled, sliding against your body and practically molding himself to you.

Reaching an arm out to wrap Frankie in a one-sided hug, you shrugged, kissing his forehead. “I have no idea.”

While he dozed, you texted the boys, who were all periodically texting you and fretting over Frankie. You gave them the run down, skipping over the more horrible bits. Will and Benny both wanted to visit, but you and Santiago decided that probably wasn’t the best idea tonight. Agreeing on tomorrow night, when some of the worst pain would be fading, you put your phone down and shook Frankie awake.

“Huh?” He grumbled, rolling and glaring at you. “Why?”

“Dinner,” you said, helping Frankie sit up. “The boys are coming around tomorrow, by the way.”

Frankie shrugged. “Why do I have to eat dinner?”

“You don’t,” you said, setting a bowl of canned soup in front of him. “Just drink some broth. Eat some of it if you can.”

The rest of the night was spent on the couch, Frankie slowly drinking the broth out of his soup and you monitoring him. He didn’t throw up again, which was a blessing, and you were able to get a cup of tea into him as well before he finally asked to go to bed.

“Sure thing,” you said, standing and stretching. Frankie watched, tiredly admiring your body. He grinned when you helped him to his feet, hands wandering, causing you to laugh.

“Francisco Morales!” You scolded through your laughter, swatting his hand away from your ass. “That is rude!”

Frankie pouted, his adorably crooked grin returning within seconds. “I’m in pain babe. Indulge me.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling and helping Frankie into the bathroom. “I washed the sheets from last night,” you said, handing him his toothbrush. “And you are absolutely calling in sick tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Okay,” Frankie said, sticking his toothbrush into his mouth. “I love you.”

You smiled, wiping toothpaste foam off Frankie’s face. “I love you too.”

That night, you listened absently to the hum of the cicadas, cuddling Frankie, who was curled around you and his heating pad, his soft breath tickling your bare arm. He wasn’t asleep yet, but he was close.

You took a deep breath, looking over Frankie’s head and staring at the moon, high in the summer sky. On nights like this, you cracked the window open to let the air in, with the precaution of multiple bug screens.

“Babe?” Frankie mumbled, rolling a bit and pulling the heating pad out from between you. “You up?”

“Yeah.”

Frankie tossed the heating pad aside, making a face as it hit the floor with a heavy thump. “You good?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just can’t sleep.”

“That’s not good,” Frankie mumbled, scooting around until his face was six inches from yours. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You smiled, kissing Frankie lightly. “Go to sleep, Catfish.”

Frankie grinned. “Ooo, busting out the nicknames. Seriously, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” you answered honestly. “You’re just super warm.”

Humming, Frankie wrapped you in a hug, the absence of the heating pad making it much more comfortable. “Better?”

You melted into his chest, tracing a feather light finger over his top surgery scars. “Much.”

Frankie kissed your forehead, head falling back to the pillow as exhaustion threatened to overtake him. “Get some sleep babe.”

Nodding, you moved Frankie’s arm so you didn’t accidentally cut his circulation off. “Right back at you Frankie.”

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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mystic-oneshots · 4 years

Text

Swimming Pool (Jumin X MC) (Jumin Week Day 4)

I was inspired by the 2 year anniversary picture for this one! Thought it was a good starting point for this prompt so I decided to use it! Also sorry but this one is a long one! (Nearly 2k words!!)

(Swimming pool vs beach)

@juminweek2019

Jumin sits under an umbrella at the side of the pool, observing the action happening in front of him. Splashing, playing, and fooling around wasn't on his agenda for the day. Instead, he planned to take this day as an opportunity to relax and take his mind off of all the stress work had given him.

The rest of the RFA, on the other hand, took this as a chance to have some much-needed fun together. Seven took this as an opportunity to mess around with everyone as much as possible, wearing a shark fin floatie on his back as he swims under the water to scare someone. I lost count of how many times he's knocked poor Yoosung out of his bright yellow duck ring. I can't help but feel sorry for that kid. Sort of. I must admit it's very entertaining to watch!

Zen and Jaehee attempted to play with an inflatable ball that resembles a watermelon with Yoosung but got distracted numerous times. I guess Zen thought it was funny to splash Jaehee at times where she'd least expect it. It might be to get her to relax. She's worked awfully hard too.

I sit at the edge of the pool, my legs submerged up to my calves in the cool water. I'm not quite on Jumin's level where I'd want to stay as far away from the pool as possible to avoid any mischief, but I'm not quite ready for any energetic interactions within the water yet. Sitting and swinging my legs in the water, creating small, therapeutic ripples across the water's surface is quite enough for me at this moment. It's relaxing to see everyone together and having fun! Even if V couldn't make it...

"MC!" I hear a voice call. I look up to see Yoosung waving his arm vigorously as he struggles to keep balance in his inflatable ring. The others all gather around him and look in my direction. "Come join us!"

"I will in a little bit!" I shout back, adjusting the pair of sunglasses sitting on my head.

"Okay!" His voice drift slightly as he starts to swim away.

"Don't be too long, yeah?" Zen adds, following on in Yoosung’s direction. Jaehee and Seven tag along behind.

A relaxed laugh emerges from my lips as I watch them slowly shrink in the distance the further away they get. A warm summer's breeze blows gently against by back, pushing my hair to expose my skin not covered by my swimsuit. The sun shines brightly, creating a shimmer across the water that bounces from the splashing that my friends create. It's like I'm lost in a trance. I feel so calm and happy.

"If you're not going to join them, why don't you join me?" A baritone voice suggests from above. I turn to see Jumin, his hair falling down in front of him as he tilts he's chiselled chin down to me. His sunglasses held to sit at the tip of his nose by his toned hand, staring at me with his grey eyes that I love so much.

"I thought you said you didn't want to get near the pool? Yet here you are!" I snicker jokingly. His lips pull up into a wholehearted smile, letting out a deep, playful sigh.

"May I?" He gestures to sit next to me. I lift my hand up out of the way and nod. The proximity closes quickly once he's sat by my side, his gaze not leaving my face. His hand sits where my own once laid, asking for mine to be placed on top. Our arms barely touching as we both have our legs dangling into the pool water.

It's nice to finally get him to join me. I didn't want him to sit so far away from everyone the whole day. I want to be able to spend some time together in the pool and have some fun! Even if he's not keen on that idea.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?" My husband's voice barely a whisper. My cheeks heat up, turning red as if I've caught the sun.

"You have. If I recall correctly, that would have been the seventh time today!"

"And I'll happily keep telling you." His laugh melts my heart! I tangle my fingers on top of his and bring my body in closer. I feel his head lay on top of mine as I rest my face against his shoulder. The fabric of his buttoned shirt is like silk against my rosy cheeks. Just his presence alone makes this moment feel perfect and I somehow am able to relax even more.

We sit here together for a moment. Nothing ever beats being with him, even if there's other people around me who I care about. I wouldn't be able to be this still and calm with anyone else. I feel my eyes slowly close and a smile form on my face. This is really the best feeling. The sun on my face, the laughter of my friends and the presence of my husband. I couldn't as for anything more!

Suddenly the calmness is broken as I'm pulled to the ground. Jumins arms wrapped tightly around my body as if to protect me. His grasp as tight as a knot. I couldn't see what happened as my eyes were closed but when I open them again, I see Jumin's body on top of mine. I hear a burst of laughter from afar. I feel cold and wet on my legs as if I've been splashed. Is that what happened?

I look up over Jumin's shoulder to see Seven not far away. He's in hysterics over the action he just pulled. I can't believe he just splashed us!

The dark haired man lifts his body up from mine, looking rather uncomfortable at how drenched his back has now become. I cannot help but to start laughing. I cover my face to try and conceal my laughter but it only gets worse when I see him turn to face Seven.

"Luciel!" There's annoyance in his tone. Seven's joker smirk fades instantly and is replaced by wide eyes filled with fear. He retreats to the others as fast as he could swim to avoid any conflict from Jumin. My own laughter continues to grow.

Jumin's attention shifts instantaneously to me who is now trying to suppress as much laughter as possible. It's a near impossible task!

"Are you laughing at me?" A devilish smirk grows on his face, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. This doesn't help the giggles that are still seeping out of my mouth behind my hands. I shake my head, tears from the laughter threatening to now fall. My stomach now hurting too.

"You are laughing at me!" He snickers. His body leaning in closer to me. I lean back to avoid him, trying my hardest not to let him see how much the laughter is making me hurt.

His hand reaches into the pool and flicks forward, splashing me wet with the cold water. I squeal and flinch in response which only makes my laughter grow even more. I didn't think it was possible! Has Seven created a catalyst of events which are changing Jumin as we speak? Is Jumin… Fooling around?

"Now we're both soaked! Is that better?" My husband stands and cups my face in his hands. He places a loving kiss on my forehead before retiring back to his seat under the umbrella. My cheeks grow redder by the second.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Trust-fund! Seven was trying to do you a favour! Do you really plan on staying over there the whole day?" Zen yells, teasing Jumin into joining everyone in the pool. Jumin stops in his tracks and turns to look out at the pool. That playful glint still in his eyes.

"Luciel has already made me alter my plans..." He shoots back, shocking not only Zen but everyone else too. Even me! What exactly does he plan on doing? Jumin Discreetly removes his shirt, revealing his back before turning around. My heart begins to flutter but the others faces become even more shocked.

He adjusts his trunks and slicks his hair back when out of the blue he starts to run. His destination: the pool! What has gotten into him? This isn't like him! His feet leave the surface of the edge as he morphs his body to create the perfect dive. His body barely makes a splash when he enters the water. He's like a dolphin as he swims under the surface before emerging for air.

He flicks his soaked, ashy hair as his head exits the water and runs over it with is hands. I've become mesmerised by how stunning he looks! With the sun reflecting off of his dewy skin, it's hard to believe he's even real!

Everyone claps and cheers, amazed by what just happened. However, Jumin doesn't acknowledge the round of applause from the others. He only focuses on me.

He swims forward, meeting me at the edge of the pool, only a couple of feet away from where I sit.

"Will you join me, sweetheart?" he pleads with his arms wide open. "I'll catch you!"

My smile widens. I move to stand at the edge of the pool and prepare to jump in myself. Jumin readies himself, moving a little closer in the water. I jump. His arms stretch out and grab me around my waist as I enter the water.

He lifts me up, chuckling with joy. Seeing him act like this is in many ways alien but to me, it's a common sight. He treats me so preciously and shows his best self, his happier self, when he's with me. This is an example of that!

The others swim over to join us as Jumin lowers me back down into the water.

"I cannot believe you jumped in like that!" Yoosung exclaims excitedly. "That was awesome!"

"It was rather unexpected, I might admit." Jaehee humbly adds.

"Well, as we're all here now, are we going to go and have some fun?" Zen announces. Seven yells in response before diving back under the water with everyone following him.

This is honestly what I was hoping to get out of this trip. Everyone having fun! And I'm pretty sure we'll all have some fun now!

#jumin x mc #juminxmc #juminweek2020 #juminweek #jumin #jumin han #jumin mystic messenger #mystic messenger #mystic messenger jumin #mysme #mysmejumin #cheritz

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cetaceans-pls · 3 years

Link

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Attempted Kidnapping, Date Night at an Aquarium, Gone Terrifically Wrong, Dom/sub Undertones Series: Part 4 of Third Thursdays

A plainclothes mission at the Gotham Aquarium quickly goes off the rails when Jason and Bruce find themselves on the wrong end of a kidnapping attempt. A billion-dollar target out of the Batsuit, Bruce gets taken.

Jason comes fetch.

Happy late Lunar New Year + Valentine’s! Why do I keep forgetting to post things to my tumblr! Life’s full of mysteries!

Anyways, please enjoy the weird result of me thinking too much about aquariums and helmets that look like jackals, and have a good week 🙏

Fic also available below the cut:

Jason studiously doesn’t mess with his cuffs, tug on his necktie, or pull off his sunglasses. He hates being forced to manifest in a suit and tie; it’s a misery every single time he has to. However, knee-deep in the bowels of a pandemic that just won’t freakin’ quit, needs must. Sometimes a man’s got to cosplay as a high-tier bodyguard to fit in a date night on a Thursday, so sometimes a man will.

He fiddles with his earpiece, expression serious even though he’s really just trying to get the volume up on his audiobook. It adds to the aura of stern, scary bodyguard man, and it means that the wobbly-lipped, handsy director cuts short his long, long thank you speech to Bruce and waves them inside for their all-access tour of the Gotham Aquarium after dark. It’s a performance he and Bruce have repeated for most of a year now, and it’s the main avenue for Jason to work through his massive collection of audiobooks. Once a month or so Billionaire Fuckboy Bruce Wayne will get it into his head to book a library or a park or a zoo or a planetarium all to himself for fuck knows what, and he’ll be good and won’t break any social distancing rules or any furniture because it’s just him and his bodyguard staying through the night. Come morning the establishment will find themselves the recipients of a donation generous enough to keep their heads above water, while Brucie floats away on a cloud of expensive scotch to find his next flex.

Bruce has more money to his name than anybody ever, ever should, and these days he uses it to buy literal breathing space for much of Gotham’s public facilities struggling to stay afloat.

This is their first visit to the aquarium, because the social media intern-turned-manager here had managed to keep finances fiercely healthy by selling videos of aquarium creatures with personalised messages. Dick himself had commissioned a 30-second video of an aquarium worker whispering ‘wiggle wiggle wiggle’ into a microphone while the camera zoomed in and out from the moon jelly exhibition, and the number of Gothamites keeping their spirits up exclusively thanks to a video of a gently floating manatee quietly murmuring “You’re doing your best” is alarming.

That’s why it’s taken them a while to work their way here, but Jason has to admit he’s looking forward to a relaxing night walking around in mood lighting with B, heckling the occasional fish. Their last date night keeping Gotham’s ‘non-essential’ attractions open had been at the rec centre in the Narrows that’s been shut for months. Romance was thin on the ground there, because mid-date the Bat had taken over Bruce and decided that they owed it to the people of the city to make a few simple adjustments to improve water quality in the swimming pools.

Elbow-deep in an ancient pump and filtration system, Jason’s hand had gotten tangled in something while pulling out the filters. It had turned out to be a tangled, sopping wet mass of human hair the size of a cat, and for the first time in a while, he had wished he was dead and actually kind of meant it.

Tonight, though, promises to be smoother sailing. The aquarium’s not in dire disrepair, the staff have been instructed to keep out of their way and respect their privacy, and he has burritos and two bottles of mini-Merlot tucked in holsters that would hold guns on a lesser man. It’s perfect prep for a relaxing supper in front of the open water tank.

The director leads them in through the main entrance, still talking Bruce’s ear off while he gestures nervously around them and swipes at his thinning white hair. Jason follows after them, hand to his ear as he says a bunch of menacing gibberish into empty air. He and Bruce are incredibly dull on nights out like this, and have by Alfred’s decree been cut-off from work comms to decrease the chance of anyone on duty being rude jealous assholes. No one’s listening right now, but growling ‘Code Esper’ into his jacket has the director sweating even harder, which is the intended outcome. With a messily-babbled “Goodnight and goodbye Mister Wayne!” and an unwelcome pat on the small of Bruce’s back, the man disappears the way they came, heavy glass doors swinging shut.

Finally, the night’s starting to look better.

First thing Jason does is rip off his stupid sunglasses. It’s certainly an Expected Look for a bodyguard, but it’s 11 PM on a weekday night and on top of it being a hideous accessory, it sets his teeth on edge to have his vision obscured even while off-duty.

He also whips his tie off, because there’s a time and a place for choking and it’s not here, not yet. Jason runs his hand through his hair to break through the gel and scowls to see the black residue on his fingers. Makeup on his face, makeup in his hair, makeup pasted on to hide him in plain sight when other people get to go to Wendy’s barefaced and hand-in-hand as they pleased, urgh.

The world’s extra rough on the legally dead, even if he’s immediately mollified by Bruce sidling up to him, close enough that their hips bump and their fingers tangle.

Christ, rich man shampoo smells a whole lot different to the stuff you can get by the half-gallon in your local bodega. Jason is tempted to bite Bruce, find the closest cleaning cupboard and get up to some defilement, but it's a big aquarium and it’s a long night, so there's no rush.

The CCTV cameras aren't live, no red lights blinking, and it's supremely helpful how much privacy gets afforded to a billionaire and his potential debauchery in return for a big cheque. Jason slings an arm around Bruce's waist, because these are hard rights hard earned, and just grins at Bruce's long-suffering sigh. "Shut the hell up, this is crazy romantic. What do you want to see first?"

The answer is, inexplicably, the tropical freshwater exhibit, where they spend a solid half hour with an arapaima swimming up-down up-down a false river designed to look like the Amazon, their tiny bottles of wine in hand. Jason loses his mind first, pacing along the tank to follow the path of a fish longer than he or Bruce are tall, but within a minute Bruce is in lockstep with him as they stalk an innocent fish while they talk about not very much at all.

Bruce looks at the murkiness of the water and the cinematic dead leaves floating all over, expression gravely concerned. “They could do with a bigger aquarium.”

Jason groans, thumb absently picking at the label on his bottle. “Stop communing with the fish. It’s only barely cute when Damian gets really intense about animals, and the charm’s completely gone once you crack 6 feet.”

In his head, though, he can’t help but feel that yeah, more space for the arapaima would be nice, but hey.

Jason’s singularly terrible with small, tight spaces, so.

“C’mon,” he says, nudging Bruce so hard it’s mostly a shove. “Time to find out what sharks look like after-hours.”

“What’s normal operating hours for a shark?” Bruce asks just to be a pain, easily going where lead.

“Keep at it and I’ll shove you in the tank so you can find out.”

There’s a loose ceiling tile near the information counter in the main hall, right by the entrance leading to the enormous, floor-to-ceiling open water exhibit. There's a loose ceiling tile there because Jason had cased this joint a week ago, the way he checks out every place Bruce decides to take them to on nights like this, and that’s where he had decided to hide his kit. While Bruce walks from end to end of the tank, committing to pointless memory the names and traits of a hundred fish, Jason climbs up and into the ceiling to grab their party pack.

Tepid beer, pretzels, spicy chicken-flavoured chips, wet wipes. A heavy blanket, a bottle of hand sanitiser, Alfred’s cold-brew tea that could grow chest hairs on a rock. He’s even got a bottle of antacids to cover burrito-related maladies shoved into a first-aid kit so complete it could maybe, just maybe, regrow a limb. He dusts the heavy blanket off before he spreads it across the floor, where they have the best view of the most unbearably beautiful manta ray that could possibly exist.

Jason maybe preens a little when Bruce comes back from the edge and greets the spread with a bit of a smile. “Hurry it up already, dinner’s gonna get cold.”

The burritos get pulled out of their holsters as Bruce settles on the ground in the exacting, ginger manner of a man of a certain age whose knees have unfortunately passed their prime. They sit and eat while inoffensive jazz plays quietly over the speakers and fish go up and down and all around.

Ah, beats the ball of human hair by a country mile.

“This is nice,” Bruce says quietly, shrugging out of his coat and loosening his tie. There’s a sharp, bright gloss to him when he’s in Bruce-Wayne-Public-Performance mode, but Jason likes dishevelled, run-down Bruce who’s a little absent-minded and a lot human the best.

He likes this Bruce he’s earned.

“One of our better dates.” Jason holds up his bottle of beer expectantly, and feels profoundly smug when Bruce raises his to knock in a gentle toast. “Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I came to the aquarium. Must have been before.”

“Same,” Bruce says, and Jason wonders for a brief, harrowing moment if this holds true for the zoo and the planetarium and the rec centre and the public library and the-

He doesn’t get the time to linger on the thought and ponder, check to see if this is Bruce on a mission to form new memories in places that had held some from before a death in the family, because they’re interrupted by the sudden scream of a fire alarm.

They both tense where they’re sat, at the ready to fly into a fight in a suit and tie, but wherever the emergency might be it isn’t in here with them. Jason looks around, tries to catch smoke on the air, but it’s all stillness and the scent of disinfectant spray. Weird, that there’s no quiet stampede of night-time crew rushing to rescue their watery wards, no security guard sent on a quick mission by the director to save their cash cow.

Jason’s got a bad feeling about this. He gets to his feet and hauls the bag containing the first aid kit and other supplies up on his shoulder. “What the hell is going on?”

Bruce is fiddling with his phone, working through the security system of the aquarium. “All the cameras are down, so we have no visuals. The fire alarm in the deep sea exhibit was tripped manually, not by the smoke detector.” He frowns. “Carbon monoxide monitors didn’t register anything, and the sprinklers haven’t been triggered either. Could just be a fluke.”

Bruce doesn’t sound convinced, and neither is Jason. Assuming harmlessness is a great way to incur harm, and that’s something you learn damn early after starting up a vigilante lifestyle. Jason can only assume foul play of some sort, likely relating to Bruce, but there’s no way that an aquarium as big as this wouldn’t have night staff; civilians might be in danger.

Fuck, give him gross filters jammed with 27 years worth of dead skin cells over this. “I’ll go and check on the deep sea room.” If there’s no trouble, Jason’s mighty tempted to create some. “You should head back to the entrance, meet up with the sweaty director dude and evacuate. I’ll catch up with you after everything’s handled.”

Bruce looks pretty irritated to be asked to meekly make his way to safety, but pulling a Bat move right now would be incredibly bad optics. They both know his hands are tied, and Bruce sighs and climbs to his feet. “If I don’t get an update from you in fifteen minutes, I’m coming back in,” he tells Jason, crumpling the foil of his burrito and fastidiously stowing it away in the pocket of his slacks. “Comms check.”

They both tap at their discreet earpieces, and both wince at the screech of feedback when the comms activate and pair.

“Fifteen’s plenty.” Jason hikes his kit bag further up his shoulder, and pretends he’s not embarrassed when he tries to activate night vision on a mask he isn’t wearing.

“Jason,” Bruce says, calm, commanding, and quiet.

“What?”

“Be good.” It’s said like an order no one could want to refuse, but before Jason can get over his shivery shock and snap something back, Bruce is waving and disappearing out the hall, pulling on the skin of a simpler man.

Jason rubs at his neck and misses his helmet more keenly. This unbearable transparency of being; almost thirty whole ass years old and it’s astonishing how underneath it all he can still be so hideously eager to please.

“Please let there be a fucking crime,” Jason murmurs to himself, and disappears.

There is a crime, but it’s not even a good one.

Jason breaks into the deep sea exhibit through a utility hatch designed to access the cooling pipes for an elaborate sea sponge display. He’s quiet and mostly invisible when he surfaces in the room, and after a minute of letting his eyes adjust to the curated darkness, it’s easy to spot a man in a balaclava with a gun trained on the only door leading to the room.

He also quickly spots the terrified hostages huddled together under a display of what looked like demon jellyfish made of LEDs and blood. It’s easy to see the shape of the crime now; set off an alarm in an isolated area with only one known entrance and exit, and subdue people as they arrive. As long as the alarm kept blaring, staff would keep on coming, and by not triggering any of the smoke or carbon monoxide detectors the fire department remain clueless.

Excellent plan, great for catching anyone who hadn’t, oh, spent a solid 12 hours going through the schematics of the entire building out of an obsessive desire to create a space a Bat could relax in. Jason counts 11 hostages and just the one gunman, and tries not to groan.

There’s not much money to be had by robbing an aquarium, and judging by the degree of weaponry this isn’t some anti-aquarium demonstration organised via Facebook groups, powered by pandemic blues. No one’s liberating a shark or freeing Willy or anything nearly as fun. Ringing the alarm’s just an excellent, excellent way to control the movement of people.

There are only two ways to go; towards the fire or towards safety.

If you’re looking to net yourself a big fish, two small teams with a couple of free-roaming agents would be enough to ensure a catch rate of almost 100%. Jason highly, highly doubts that this whole song-and-dance was designed to abduct a frazzled researcher wearing a fuzzy sweater in radiant orange, or a stern-faced woman in a janitor’s uniform who looks alarmingly close to hulking out and breaking out of her bonds. He highly, highly suspects that there’s a reason outside of billionaire-envy to explain why the director of the aquarium had looked so dodgy and sweaty when he had welcomed Bruce.

Jason’s proven unfortunately right when the radio at the gunman’s hip crackles to life.

“We got Wayne.”

Of course they did. Bruce could hardly go to town and take down a bunch of armed kidnappers, especially if there are civilians near him. Jason tugs out his phone to update the Cave while the gunman grunts his reply and moves to turn off the fire alarm. Alfred asks Jason if he needs reinforcements as the guy tells the huddled terrified masses that he’ll kill them if they move, and Jason texts back a ‘no thank you’ as the goon strides out of the room, locking the door behind him.

The group of tied-up people burst into panicked chatter as soon as the gunman’s gone, and Jason uses the noise as cover for unzipping his bag and getting changed. Unlike Bruce, pulling on his second skin takes a lot longer, but once Jason tugs his red hood up and shucks off the bodyguard suit to stretch in his skin-tight armour, he feels twice the man and thrice as happy.

There’s no gun in the bag, there’s no gun anywhere near him, because it’s a self-imposed rule Jason has recently given himself for date nights. Bruce has been known to use anything from a screwdriver taped to a plank of wood to his literal bare stupid hands to pry things open in a whole-hearted effort to avoid having a crowbar anywhere in the Manor or in his life, and Jason wanted to repay like with like.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck to not have his go-to weapon, though. He sighs as he straps a taser strong enough to knock God unconscious to his thigh, and sighs again when he pulls out a sickle in its leather holster. Alfred’s gotten terribly creative with what he packs for their nights out, but who is Jason to stand in the way of a man’s artistic expression?

Fully kitted-out, hood drawn and mask glowing, Jason shoves the bag back down the hatch and vaults over the top of the aquarium he was crouched behind, landing to the wild, panicked screams of the assembled staff.

His flashy entrance is totally unnecessary, and he knows the lights on the new helmet make him look less like a human and more like an abstract cryptid with a muzzle lined in blood. It’s spectacularly dramatic, but it releases some of the tension that’s been building in his body ever since he and Bruce split up.

He holds his hands up, forgetting the sickle in his fist, and the screaming hits a crescendo any opera would be proud of. It’s a little fucking hysterical, but Jason’s on the clock right now so he can’t savour this situation as much as he would have liked. “Calm the hell down, it’s just Red Hood here to save the day.”

The screaming eases up, though a gentleman in thick glasses and a threadbare labcoat does give a good ol’ screech when he comes closer towards them with the sickle set free. Jason ignores him and crouches down to cut the janitor lady free first. She spares a second to presumably calculate the chances of her beating him in a fight before she comes to a conclusion, shrugs, and turns to immediately start picking at the knots of the person next to her. Within a couple of minutes everyone is free, and everyone is scrambling to grab at things to arm themselves with. Jason eyes the selection of brandished pens and water bottles with mild delight, and nods respectfully at his lady and her bottle of bleach off the janitor’s cart because real recognises real. He does a quick scan to make sure there are no serious injuries or emergencies, and gets to his feet.

“All right, so this is apparently an attempt to kidnap Wayne, and you guys are just collateral. They’ll be clustered towards the main entrance, so get out through the most secret employees-only door you know. Stay together and stay quiet, and it’s gonna be fine. The Bat knows what’s going on, if that makes anyone feel better.” He considers how much he does and doesn’t want to share with the people assembled, before he decides that fuck it, being a shit-stirrer is pretty fun. “Pretty sure your big boss is in on it too, so if there’s an exit that guy won’t be familiar with, use that one.”

There’s a sharp intake of communal breath, before a young woman wearing waders and rubber gloves up to her shoulders raises her hand. “Do you mean Dr. Stevens?”

Jason shrugs. “Maybe?”

“Uhm. Short, all white hair, super skinny. Looks like someone you wouldn’t trust in a lab alone with a stressed-out postdoc of any gender because he gives off the vibe of a creep with varied tastes?”

Jason frowns at what the girl is saying, and the grim looks of much of the rest of the room. “Sounds about right.”

At least three separate people hiss motherfucker under their breaths, and three more say some version of I fucking knew it. The aquarium might not have had any severe financial issues, but oh, they’ve found a mess worse than too much human hair, looks like. Jason’s keener than ever to murder this Stevens dude, but he really, really doesn’t have the time to chair a HR complaint for the aquarium right now.

“Look, whatever goes down tonight I’m gonna give a Red Hood guarantee that the guy won’t be your boss anymore. Hell, Wayne’s going to be so grateful when I rescue him that I could get him to elect a different person to be in charge of this place even if this guy isn’t in cahoots with the kidnappers. So consider it handled, okay?” He straps the sickle back at his waist. “Now get the hell out of here. I’m counting on you.”

He nods at his bleach-wielding lady, and she nods back like the truest sort of comrade-in-arms.

Reassured, Jason kicks the door down and moves the fastest anyone’s ever moved in an aquarium, a red-faced wraith on a hunt.

Bruce courteously gasps when a hood is thrown over his head and secured, even though he had guessed the shape of the night’s events the moment he had reached the lobby and seen the half-wobbly half-cocky look to the director’s face from across the way. “What are you doing?” he demands in a shaky voice as he puts up token resistance, enough to look panicked but not enough to tempt someone into knocking him out and hauling him away.

Far too many questions to answer as to why a loafer coasting on generational wealth has more muscle mass than your average highly-trained mercenary, after all.

He counts his steps and tries to carve little signs into the pile of the carpeting with the toe of his loafers as he’s marched off, though he doubts Jason will need this trail of breadcrumbs to find him. “Let me go!” he yells, navigating the blueprint of the aquarium in his mind. Everyone ignores him, and his captors are none-too-gentle as they force him up some metal stairs.

Forty steps from the entrance to the lobby, a right, thirty steps, a left, a quiet beep, and now stairs. My, my, my, seems like they’ll be paying Dr. Stevens’ sea slug lab a visit. It’s a good location for a quick regroup, tucked away and locked behind several layers of security. Bruce imagines they won’t be here long; a good kidnapper doesn’t keep their victim where they found them, after all.

He’s roughly shoved into a chair and tied to it, rendered immobile by cuffs on his hands and rope round his legs, but it’s a cheap office chair and there’s give in his binds. He’s immobile, but only theoretically. Bruce keeps tugging at his bonds and cursing under his breath while he hopes that Stevens doesn’t bother to ask where his bodyguard has gone, has thought the worst of Jason and assumed that he had just run off.

It would make a rescue attempt much easier, though Bruce isn’t particularly worried. It’s a kidnapping force of, oh, five? Maybe six? Carpet muffles footsteps more than wooden floorboards do, but Bruce is pretty confident of his estimate. Six at most, with at least another team responsible for the fire alarm, so a worst-case scenario of twelve. As long as his measure of their competence isn’t too wrong, Bruce doesn’t anticipate anything worse than a couple of through-and-throughs if he has to fight through this himself.

He knows he won’t have to, though.

The people around him fall silent when their radio comes to life, a panicked man shouting “There’s someone here with us! It’s the Red-” before there’s a loud bang! followed by a terrifying silence.

“Ten,” someone yells tersely back. “Come in, Ten. What the hell was that?”

There’s a general rumble of unease in the room now, and Bruce is allowed a vicious, nasty smile because no one can see him under here. At least ten people are in on this, and about half of those are in here with him while the rest are out there with Jason. He considers making an effort to tap out in Morse how many goons are with him right now, since Jason has half a dozen ways to track his location with all the kit Bruce has on him, but decides against it.

Let the boy have some fun.

“Let me go, I’ll do anything you want,” he calls out half-heartedly, but no one gives a shit because there’s another panicked broadcast by another panicked man that cuts off abruptly. The tension in the room is palpable, feels more solid than the sack on his head, and it goes frizzy with electricity when the Red Hood’s terrifying static growl comes through on the radio.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Jason’s mangled voice croons through the line. Bruce feels goosebumps ripple up his arms, and feels oddly, hideously proud. “Two down, a few more to go. Hope you’ll put up more of a fight.”

Then there’s a sharp crack, and the line goes quiet.

“You promised me this would be just in-and-out! You said that Wayne would be out of here as soon as you got him! You didn’t say anything about a vigilante running me down in my own building!”

Ah, that’s Dr. Stevens losing his nerve. His tirade is cut short by a hard slap, it sounds like, and the voice Bruce thinks of as One is the only thing to be heard above the quiet whimpers of a panicking doctor.

“You agreed to do anything that needed to be done as long as you got a cut of the pay,” One says coldly. “Too late to get cold feet now, doctor.” There’s the sound of the walkie-talkie being turned back on. “Transport is incoming. Disappear and make your way out, regroup in safe house Gamma. It’s just one man against all of us, so don't lose your heads and we’ll get our money.”

Nobody responds verbally, probably because radio silence is golden when trying to beat a hasty retreat. Bruce feels his ropes come loose, and he’s forced to his feet as the kidnappers discuss their plans with more discretion than Stevens shooting off his mouth. He catches bits and pieces of conversation, mentions of the docks and allusions to the highest bidder, but everything goes instantly, deathly silent when the radio comes to life again.

“Three down, four down, five down. Be seeing you real soon, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce doesn’t need to pretend to take in a shaky breath.

God, code names are an absolute necessity when carrying out this sort of dirty work, but Jason wants to have a sit-down with whoever decided to go with numbers for this little shindig. First man taken out and he already knows this goes at least ten fuckers deep. The leader’s figured out that yelling the number of men he has in his employ down a radio the enemy has access to isn’t a great idea, but somebody with an army of a hundred wouldn’t have been so concerned with the downing of one, so Jason’s pretty much got confirmation that this is a small-scale, quick-in quick-out kind of affair.

They’ll be looking to move Bruce, with that whole ‘transport incoming’ message. Jason’s got Bruce’s location pulled up, B’s comms actively recording vitals and transmitting its location, and from the lack of movement it’s easy to tell they’re planning a getaway through the front entrance.

He’s also happy to note that Bruce’s resting heart rate’s still at an insulting 45 beats a minute mid-kidnapping, though boy it sure did spike every time Red Hood sent out a message. Good to know, real fucking good to know.

After taking out the fifth guy, Jason doesn’t run into anybody else on his way to the main entrance, and he doesn’t particularly care if some small fry are getting away. The priority is getting Bruce to safety, and then doing clean-up on the kidnappers and Dr. Creepazoid. A showdown within the lobby is endlessly preferable to a showdown outside, if only because it’s easier to keep track of people if they can’t run away from you. Double-checking that Bruce actually is being slowly moved towards the main entrance from wherever they stashed him, Jason happily beats them to the front doors and barricades them in with him, stacking tables and chairs and cupboards into a heavy, impenetrable mess.

Sure, whoever’s coming to pick them up might be armed enough to break on through, but Jason has intimate knowledge of what mercenaries are like. Thoughts like ‘I sure as hell am not paid enough to deal with this’ are common and powerful enough to dissuade most mercs in this situation. It’s what you get when you team-build on money instead of insane, intangible things like love and loyalty, losers.

Jason looks around at the arena of his making and makes a quick decision to climb up a display case stuffed full of the toys kids can expect to see in the gift shop. It’s sturdy enough, though the thin metal frames groan a little under his weight. Jason sheathes his sickle and powers down the lights lining his helmet, lies in wait like a hungry dog in the dark as he calms his breathing and imagines what it will be like to beat the living daylights out of people who think it’s cool to disrupt a well-earned date on a much-anticipated night.

It’s another ten minutes or so before he picks up the sound of heavy feet trying to be unnaturally quiet on cheap carpet. They haven’t rounded the corner and they’re still out of sight, but with his helmet enhancing his hearing Jason’s already getting plenty of information. At least five people with heavy, careful steps, likely the assailants heavy in their armour and weapons. One set of footsteps shuffling along the carpet, all hesitance and distaste, and that’s got to be Stevens.

And in the middle of it all, walking in a weird off-kilter rhythm like a man who either has a stone in his shoe or is determined to make as distinctive a walk as possible, is Bruce. Up and walking of his own power, which is excellent. Jason doesn’t need to go into this fight concerned with keeping an unconscious Bruce safe. This is going to be an activity with full participation by all parties, hell yeah.

Speaking of participation.

Jason taps the side of his helmet and connects to Bruce’s comms. “B,” he says, low and sweet just to unsettle Bruce. “I’ve got altitude on a cabinet on the eastern wall of the entrance. I’ll see you right as you come in, and I’m gonna attack before anybody knows what’s happening. Get behind the reception desk if you can. Do you copy?”

As per the training handbook for situations when you’re too deep behind enemy lines to do much of anything, Bruce registers his acknowledgment with three sharp clicks, teeth clacking against each other in rapid succession.

Jason arches his back, loosening his muscles before he curls up again, ready to literally pounce. The footsteps are drawing closer, and they have just a few seconds before shit is going to hit the fan. He unhooks his sickle, and grins at absolutely nothing.

“Oh, and B?”

A click.

“Be good for me.”

Bruce’s heart rate spikes just as the group of men round the corner, and Jason’s laughing like a loon as the lines of his helmet burn back to life and he descends on the kidnappers, a hound out of hell.

There’s something primordially terrifying about seeing a fury in red and black descend on you from the sky. Bruce knows what the plan is, knows exactly how menacing a figure Jason can cut when he wants to be dramatic, but even then he couldn’t stop instinctively reaching for the handy, wicked little pocket knife in his pocket the second he saw the lines of the helmet glowing through the dark of his hood.

In the panicked yelling as Jason leaps into the fray and starts systematically annihilating a group of heavily armed men who can’t fight back without shooting each other, it’s easy for Bruce to break free of his captors and rip the sack off his head. He ducks under the flailing butt of a gun and takes a moment to shatter someone’s kneecap with the metal cuffs on his wrists before he’s rolling out of the way, belly-crawling towards the sturdy reception desk.

Dr. Stevens is yelling and trying to run away but Jason keeps plucking at him and pulling him back into the brawl with a vengeance Bruce grudgingly admires. By the time Bruce has climbed up on a chair to get a better view of the fight while staying mostly out of sight, half the men are already a groaning pile on the ground.

By the time Bruce has freed himself from his handcuffs, Stevens is an unconscious mess on the ground, and by the time Bruce has texted home and requested that Alfred call the police, it’s just Jason and One circling each other, both their faces hidden, blades in their hands.

Bruce notes with some interest that where Jason had kept his sickle sheathed and mostly used the blunt outer curve to knock people unconscious, the wicked edge is now out and gleaming as One strikes at him with a nasty Bowie knife. The hand-to-hand is quick and brutal, both of them trading hits and jabs. Whatever armour One is wearing is holding up well against Jason’s sickle, which is fair enough.

Bruce would need to get closer to know for sure, but it certainly looks like the sickle Alfred uses to carefully weed the tulip bed. No point in sharpening a gardening tool to be sharp enough to bite into flesh.

Less pleasing is how One’s knife doesn’t seem to struggle much with cutting through Jason’s costume. The new mesh Bruce had designed in response to Jason’s irritated demand for a slimmer, sleeker costume was supposed to be able to withstand most edged weapons, but even in the dark it’s easy to see where the black fabric has been cut and Jason’s skin and blood are visible instead. Trust Jason to do quality testing in the absolute worst times.

Back to the drawing board it is. One is taunting Jason, allowing Jason to swipe ineffectively at him before laughing and slashing back. “Is this all you got?” the man crows from behind his balaclava, radiating smugness. “I don’t know what I was worried about. I’ll have you and Wayne brought in for sale, and I wonder who the highest bidder will be.” Another quick jab, and Jason’s forearm is marked. “Wonder which of you Mister J would want more as a playmate.”

At that, Jason goes stock still. It’s so sudden that it clearly startles One, who retreats a little, knife up and ready to go. Bruce finds himself with his jaw clenched shut, teeth grinding so hard it’s like lockjaw in three seconds or less.

Of all the things some no-name budget kidnapper could have said. Bruce taps on his comms, opens a line to Jason, because if One keeps push push pushing like this, he won’t live to see morning.

One might not live to see the next minute, if Jason’s slow, terrifying stride towards him means anything.

“Jason,” Bruce whispers into the comm. “Jason, enough. You’ve done enough. Stop playing with your food, come here and let me check on you.”

Across the lobby, Jason once against draws to a halt, but it doesn’t stick. One figures out that actually, the Red Hood had been getting sliced up into ribbons more as a weird exploratory experience than because of a lack of skill, and he figures it out by way of Jason coming right up to him in the blink of an eye, disarming him by snapping the wrist of the hand holding the knife, and grabbing him by the throat with a grip tight enough to kill.

One is currently absolutely sure that he’s about to die.

So is Bruce, who knows that he cannot reach the man faster than Jason can snap a neck. “Jason!” he damn near bellows down the comms, damn near shouts across the room. “Enough. You come when called. You come when I call.”

And like a miracle, like the time Jason came back all those years ago and all the times Jason’s come for him ever since, it works.

One is dropped to the ground, unconscious and foaming at the mouth, and Jason’s barrelling towards Bruce.

As Bruce is swept up and back into the depths of the evacuated aquarium, he finds himself thinking we’ve had worse.

Jason isn’t sure why his first instinct after being called off of the murder of a singularly horrible man is to haul Bruce up and run to the deep sea exhibit, but he’s willing to admit to himself that calm only comes back to him when they’re finally buried in the quiet dark of a room of things softly bioluminescing.

He’s got no love lost for the Joker, has fought the bastard enough times since that it’s not residual fear that snapped him. Here, far far away from the wreckage, it’s easy to identify that his trigger had been superimposing the many, many horrors Jason has personally died from and lived through onto Bruce. Bruce who in many ways has the worst luck of any person he’s ever known, Bruce who would sooner rip into himself than be put into a Pit, Bruce who has to be careful with his burritos and his knees, put under the loveless purview of a madman with a crowbar.

Being protective of other people is generally a good thing, but trust Jason to wield care like a bludgeon. He scoffs, and drops Bruce unceremoniously next to the trapdoor. He could take off his helmet, no one and nothing could see him here, but the mortification of being seen out of control makes it really fucking unappealing.

Bruce sits up and looks around, acting like not a single weird thing has happened this entire night. “I’ve never seen the deep sea exhibition,” he says, like he’s having a normal conversation, like this is just the middle of a perfectly pleasant, perfectly average date.

“I saw a poster, they only built this section after I died,” Jason says dully.

Bruce hums like that’s information enough. “I’m glad we’re getting to see it then.” He tugs at Jason’s leg. “Sit.”

And Jason does, his legs folding underneath him before a thought’s even fully formed. He remembers when he was redesigning the helmet and was struggling to pick a look that was both menacing and just plain cool. The one he settled on had been one of Damian’s designs, all geometric shapes and the suggestion of creature. It had reminded him of a jackal, of Anubis, like death come in the shape of this thing with a muzzle and teeth.

Right now it feels like he’d chosen the look of a dog, a dog with the brand of bat to describe its master, and he feels like a mangy, wild thing desperate for Bruce, just for Bruce.

He takes back every mean, unkind thought he’s ever had about the date at the rec centre. Let him bury his hands into a dozen masses of gelatinous hair than force him to think about things like this, think about himself like this.

Jason’s tight with tension, but Bruce doesn’t push him to talk. Bruce doesn’t force him to do anything, just has a hand wrapped around the nape of Jason’s neck, thumb rubbing at the seam where metal helmet meets skin. They sit in this weird, tingly silence even as Alfred’s pings requesting an update become more urgent, and Jason realises that they’ll stay in this weird, tingly silence until he makes a move.

“What the fuck are we doing, B?” he says at last.

“Whatever we want to, Jaybird.” Bruce is ignoring a lot of his own damn rules about names in uniform, but he still seems remarkably unconcerned about everything. “How are you?”

Jason groans, giving up and tipping over so that he’s sprawled uncomfortably over Bruce’s legs. “Feel fucking awful. I can’t believe I’m the kind of guy that loses his shit just because some asshole said something vaguely threatening to you.”

“I think it shows good character.” Bruce rests a hand on Jason’s shoulder, the other still carefully cradling his head. “But I’m not a good judge of character, so take that with a grain of salt.”

Jason barks out a laugh at that. “You sure fucking are. I knew that director guy was skeezy the moment I saw him. Can’t believe he didn’t set off alarm bells in your head within the first thirty seconds, B.”

Bruce just shrugs. “If I reacted badly to everyone that I thought I couldn’t trust, I’d rarely get to stop.”

Well, the man’s got a point. “Still. He’s apparently shitty with staff too, so at least we’re solving a bunch of problems all at once with this night out.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Jason.”

Jason forces himself to sit back up, a little alarmed by the little note that’s appeared informing him that the police are about five minutes away from the aquarium. “That’s a damn lie and you know it.” Even the strongest of the kidnappers wasn’t anything much above average for a night out on patrol, and Bruce is nothing if not ruthlessly efficient when the fight’s in a public place.

Bruce gets to his feet, careful and ginger, and Jason can’t help but just stare at his stupid wholly-human knees. Bruce doesn’t mention it, doesn’t draw attention that renowned vigilante and crime boss the Red Hood has his head not a foot away from his legs, and just holds his hand out to him instead. “How about, I wouldn’t have enjoyed this night without you?”

Jason takes a moment to pretend to think about it, but he knows his answer. “I”ll take it.” Like he takes Bruce’s hand, like he takes things from Bruce because it’s what he wants and it’s what he’s earned. “I should get out of here before the pigs show up.”

“See you back at the Manor?” It’s only half past midnight, which means this date’s ended a good three hours earlier than their usual. Bruce looks like he’s asking only as an afterthought; of course Jason’s coming home with him.

Jason struggles to think of anything more pleasant than sitting out on their balcony in the dark with a hot drink in hand, electric blanket doggedly trying to keep them warm even as the outlet threatens to explode from the snow that’s supposed to start at 2 AM.

He also struggles to imagine how he’s going to be good company when his head is in as much disarray as it currently is. How open is Bruce to some heavy petting outdoors if Jason can’t convince himself to take his helmet off the whole time? How likely is the night to devolve into them sitting awkwardly in frigid silence until someone snaps and starts an argument just for the sake of a change of pace?

“Yeah, I’m thinking that’s not a good idea.”

That gets Bruce to stop shabbying himself up to look like an actual kidnapping victim, cuffs already locked again. “I see. Why is that?”

Jason shrugs, and is glad that his face is still unseen even if it feels like his whole damn body is letting B in on the secret. “It’s a 'feeling kinda feral' kinda day. I’m going to go blow off some steam.” Run a couple of laps around the lake in the memorial park, and if he gets close enough to hypothermia he might start forgetting the quiet kshkshh sound of delicate neck bones grinding under his hand.

He feels violence wiggling just an inch under his skin, and that’s another self-imposed rule for nights out with Bruce. Any time his grip on himself feels even a pound looser than it should be, Jason’s going to take time for himself because this deep into this relationship he’s surer than ever that there’s a hell of a lot of brutality he could let loose and Bruce would just take it and take it and take it.

Jason will not bite his mas-

He’s forcibly taken out of his thoughts by a sharp rap against his helmet. He strikes out instinctively, and catches Bruce's hand in a tight grip. “What the hell, B.”

“You weren’t responding,” Bruce tells him matter-of-factly, not pulling away. “I said, you can go and run yourself ragged. After that, you come home.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

Bruce smiles a proper smile, sharp and smug and sweet, and leans over to press a kiss to Jason’s hand wrapped around his own. “Because, Jason, I listened when you told me to keep away and keep safe. Isn’t it your turn now?”

It’s all about that give-and-take baby, and Jason just might fucking howl.

He releases Bruce in a flash, and his helmet’s unlatched and crashing to the ground not a second later. Bruce could have aikido’d him over his shoulder and flung him clear across the room because Jason’s not the most coordinated he’s ever been right now, but instead the man just widens his stance and wholly and easily accepts Jason throwing himself at Bruce face first.

It’s a maddening kiss, because Jason’s just shoved Bruce against the blood jelly tank so that he can get into position for a good grind when an alert goes off from his helmet, and Alfred’s too-loud voice calls out to tell them that “The police officers have arrived, sirs.”

Jason groans and pulls back slightly, trying to catch his breath as he digs his teeth into Bruce’s shoulder despite the three layers of expensive fabric in the way. “I hate everything,” he says, half-heartedly groping at Bruce’s chest.

“Hate it in your free time,” Bruce mutters into his hair, before choking a little because he caught a mouthful of semi-permanent dye. “On our nights, be good.”

Relationships are a contract, and Jason’s willingly agreed to these terms for, ah, close to a year now. It doesn’t mean he won’t grumble, or mess up Bruce’s perfectly styled hair just to make him grumble too. “Yeah, yeah, old man, I know what I’m about. Go and distract the cops already, I need to get away.”

Bruce lazily salutes him, looking dishevelled and mussed and suitably victimised. Jason is one damn inch away from dragging B down to the ground and reinstating his territory, god. Instead, he grabs his bag and picks up his helmet, and dawdles a little by the hatch. “You gonna be okay, old man?”

“Of course,” Bruce says confidently, ripping buttons off his coat and toeing one shoe off to look extra pathetic. “I have a hot date to keep. I’ll see you at home, Jason.”

What’s a man to do when given an order like that?

Jason obeys.

A/N: i’ve literally had ‘king tide come through’ listed as a title i wanted for something since last year?? it doesn’t even really mean anything i just love that the highest high tides are kings and it’s got such a nice ring to it. my approach to titling things is that it has to slap, thanks for coming to my TED talk ;9

#brujay #bruce wayne #jason todd #whale writing #i haven't been to many aquariums at all but #generally my idea of a good time is me being close to a Big Body Of Water #as long as i don't obsess on the survival rates of the lads in the tanks #being that close that much water is inexplainably soothing #and bc feb has been all sorts of miserable for me personally #i wanted some soothing

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gemma-lemma · 3 years

Text

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

Chapter 1.3 – Kegger

Not too much time later, the friends had gathered on a hidden piece of beach with loads of beer and alcohol, dancing to blaring music and laughing ‘till their cheeks hurt.

You see, you couldn’t really understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard.

“Here we go!” John B cheered while filling a red plastic cup with beer. He held it out to Pope, who declined, but JJ was happy to take it. Parker on the other hand filled two cups with sweet juice and loads of different alcohols, giving one to Kiara and chugging the other himself.

“My god, Parker. What is that?” She groaned and wiped at her mouth. He just raised a brow and took another sip, totally unfazed by the fact that he had used not enough juice to make the drinks as sickly sweet as he usually liked them. When Kiara saw that, a laugh escaped her. Smirking, he held out his hand toward her cup, and when she gave it to him, he drank half of it and refilled it with juice.

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely better.” She laughed after trying it cautiously.

“What the fuck are you two drinking?” JJ asked disgusted. Parker wiggled his brows at him and got up to throw an arm around his shoulders.

“This, my dear blonde puppy, is what we called ‘The Bomb’ back where I come from.” He snickered and ignored the way JJ went rigid by his touch.

“’The Bomb’? And what exactly do you put in that bomb of yours?”

“Well,” Parker explained and grimaced, “Basically just everything you can find. You see, in this one, I put vodka, malibu and tequila. The trick, however, is, that putting in so much sweet juice that you can’t tell for the love of God what other shit I put in there.” He winked, and JJ’s brows shot up.

“That sounds like alcohol poisoning.”

“Only for the weak and feeble, JJ.” Parker laughed, repeating John B’s words from earlier and turning away from JJ to look at a bunch of kids their age entering the beach.

The boneyard was kinda like a three-layer burrito. There’s the Pogues and their friends, the working-class derelicts from the Cut. And then there were the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They were mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just trustafarian posers. Their natural enemies. And then, there were the Tourons. Totally clueless, here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks.

While John B took over the job of pouring beer and drinks for everyone, the others went to dance and make new acquaintances. Watching with a smirk as JJ and some girl hooked their arms and drank – actually more spilled than drank – their beers, he didn’t immediately notice Kiara standing next to him.

“He’s such a fuckboy.” She laughed, and he gave her a startled look.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He joined and took her by the hand. “Let’s dance, Kiki.”

“Kiki? What am I, nine?” She laughed and let him pull her closer to the music.

“I don’t know, are you?” He grinned and started moving to the beat. She shoved his shoulder with a laugh and started dancing too.

“Jokes aside for a moment, how are you, Parker? You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, I just don’t want you to suffer in silence and be overlooked.” She said, suddenly more serious. He raised his brows in surprise.

“Oh, Kiki. Don’t you worry, baby girl. Everything at home is a bloody mess, that’s why I came here. I mean, I am sad, I am hurt and confused, and I can’t change that, but being with you guys also gives me some kind of security. It helps me breathe, and there’s nothing more you could possibly do for me.” He said with a sincere smile and rubbed her hair. Laughing, she pushed his hand away.

“I’m glad to hear that. But if you ever wanna talk, you know you can come to me, alright?” She smiled and he nodded.

“Thanks, Kiki.” Then, after a pause he added. “You want another bomb?”

“I don’t know, how many of these can you drink before dying?” She answered and raised a brow.

“My record was seventeen. But I must say that I wouldn’t recommend it. I really puked a lot that night. Almost had to go to the hospital.” He laughed and she facepalmed. Pictures of how Billy desperately tried to make him drink water while he was hanging over the toiled flashed through his mind, but he pushed them down.

“I guess I can take one more, then.” She laughed and he saluted, before turning away and walking towards the place where they had put all the alcohol.

He couldn’t find any juice anymore, so he just sticked to energy drinks.

“What the hell are you mixing there, bro?” An amused voice sounded behind him. With a grin and a raised brow Parker turned around to find a blonde boy standing there, probably a few years older than him. Judging by his khaki shorts and the light blue polo shirt he was either a Kook or a rich Touron. But then again, his face seemed familiar.

“It’s called ‘The Bomb’. Wanna try it?” He smirked and held one of the cups out for him to grab. With a sceptic look the boy sipped on the cup and immediately grimaced.

“Is it sweet enough?” Parker asked and grabbed another cup. The boy chuckled.

“It’s like – way too sweet. Man, I think I just got caries.” He laughed but took another gulp, nonetheless. Curiously, Parker took a sip of his own, grimacing at the new kind of sweet.

“Yeah, that’s unusual. Usually I use juice, like fruit juice, you know? Orange, cranberry, whatever I can find. But some idiot has already finished all of that, so we’re left with-“ He picked up one of the cans to read the etiquette, “Red Bull Fever Dream. Heavens above, what the hell?” He laughed and opened the can.

“Sounds like something you’d drink to kill yourself with.” The blonde boy chuckled and took Parkers still full cup upon seeing how he struggled with mixing the third drink while still holding his own. “You look familiar, do I know you?”

“Do you know me, do you not? I don’t know, buddy.” Parker chanted and opened a bottle of vodka. “I’m Parker, I’m just here to visit my cousin for a bit. I’ve been here before, though, some years ago.”

“Parker? Nice to meet ya, I’m Rafe. Who’s this cousin of yours?”

Rafe? Rafe, Rafe, Rafe – Ah, Rafe. Kook Rafe.

“You’re that Kook princeling my cousin can’t stand.” Parker laughed, totally ignoring his question. But his laugh seemed so genuine, that the boy – Rafe – couldn’t help but crack an amused smile too. He didn’t seem like the type to usually smile at a joke like that, but that was Parker’s magic; contagious carelessness.

“Oh, can’t he now? What’s his name, maybe the feeling is mutual?”

Parker was just about to reply, when JJ appeared behind Rafe and gave him a dirty look.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” He spat and went to stand next to Parker. Rafe frowned at him, and even more when Parker rested a lazy elbow on JJ’s shoulder.

“Don’t tell me he’s your cousin.” Rafe said exasperatedly and Parker had to laugh.

“Nah, don’t worry, but if you already react like that to JJ you won’t like to hear that my cousin’s actually John B.” He smiled, and Rafe gave him another exasperated look. Parker bit his lip to contain his grin and nodded.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah, you can fuck off now.” JJ growled at Rafe and Parker slapped his shoulder, clearly not taking the situation serious. There were things Parker cared to get mad about, and there were things he didn’t waste any of his energy for. This was definitely one of the latter kind.

“Jeez, JJ. Be nice to your guests. What’s a party worth if you chase away all its guests.” He purred, winked at Rafe and took his drink back before leaving them to glare each other down and going to look for Kiara.

He found her sitting on a dead tree with some guy he didn’t know.

“Virgos are, like, so organized.” She explained to that poor soul who probably just wanted to get into her pants. “Like, all my friends that are Virgos are like-“

“Hey baby, I’m back.” He called and watched her face light up at the sight of him. The boy she had been talking to immediately fled.

“Took you long enough, honey.” She got up and took the drink he held out for her.

“Honey?” He gave her an amused look.

“Yeah, you know, because of your hair. It’s so golden, like fresh honey.” She smiled and he couldn’t help but admire her peaceful vibes.

“Sarah! Sarah, be careful!” A male voice caught their attention and they turned around to see a blonde girl in a flowery blue dress climb up a – Parker didn’t even know what that was. It was big and red and looked like something that belonged in the water like some kind of metal buoy. The one trying to look after her while she clearly didn’t care seemed to be her boyfriend, or best friend, or maybe even someone else entirely.

John B approached them, and Kiara looked at him with delusion and anger written all over her face. She suddenly looked so uncomfortable that Parker draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into his body, trying to reassure her via the proximity.

“What is she doing here?” Kiara asked John B, but he didn’t really know an answer to her question.

“Why? Who are they?” Parker asked, and now John B found his voice.

“That’s Sarah Cameron, Kook princess. Kiara’s best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade.” Kiara scoffed at his words and Parker rubbed up and down her arm reassuringly. “I work on her dad’s boat. The guy that’s with her, he’s Topper, her not so pleasant boyfriend. Topper actually thinks Pogues were bred to mow lawns.” John B explained and they watch him help her down from that buoy thing.

“Does he have frosted tips?” Parker asked incredulously and John B nodded with a grin.

Kiara wanted to get away, but he held her close to him and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Hey, it’s alright, Tiger. I will fight every Kook that dares to make you feel uncomfortable to death.”

That actually made her giggle a little. “Maybe not to death, yeah?”

Parker acted as if he was huffing annoyedly, but it was clear by the smile on his face that he wasn’t at all. “fine, whatever you say, baby girl.”

On the other side, John B couldn’t seem to get his eyes off the Kook pair.

#jj maybank #outer banks jj #obx #outer banks fanfiction #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #topper #john b

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germgyuuu · 4 years

Text

CARNIVAL | l.jn

idol boyfriend!lee jeno x reader

genre: heavy fluff, heavy cringe, established relationship au.

warnings!: some swear words, slightly suggestive.

word count: 2.3k+

You and your boyfriend, Jeno spend time at the carnival, reminiscing your past, enjoying your present and planning your future.

All you ever wanted was for some time alone with Jeno. Even if it was just for a day. And luckily for you, NCT had been given a whole two weeks off. Jeno had planned for a vacation trip to Hawaii, just the two of you and you were more than excited. What better way to spend your summer vacation with your boyfriend?

As you arrived at your hotel, you were informed by the hotel staff that there was this huge carnival which would be held in the evening so you both decided to rest until then.

"Jeno, I feel bad", you pout, dumping your suitcase on the floor and lying down on the bed.

"Why? What's wrong?", a worried Jeno asks before laying down next you. You turn to face him and he brushes the hair that shifted and fell, covering your face.

"This is the first time you ever got a break after your debut but you have to spend it with me instead of the members or your family", you genuinely felt bad.

As much as you wanted to be with Jeno whenever he was free, you knew there were things you had to sacrifice once you realised you would be dating an idol.

You let out a frustrated groan and outstretched your arms as you lay on your side looking at Jeno. He chuckled before pulling you towards him as he held you close to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you and resting his chin on your head. You sighed as his arms tightened around you.

"Baby, first of all, you are family and second of all, I need this vacation. I need this for us. I know how much you have to sacrifice to date me and I know this isn't much, but I really hoped this would make up for all the time I couldn't be with you. All the missed dates, all the times you had to get worried sick because I could sleep for only two hours a day, all the anniversaries and birthdays that were spent Face Timing and all the hoodies I had to give you so you wouldn't forget about me”, he sighed, running his hands through his soft hair. “You deserve this more than anyone. We deserve this. And I can always meet my family the next week. I've already sorted out my plans with them. And as for the members, I may or may not have used this vacation as an excuse to get away from them. You can live with them your whole life but no matter what, they'll still tire you out",

Jeno grimaced recalling the noisy dorm and the messy place. He was already tired just thinking about it.

"Let's get some sleep, we need to head to the carnival soon", Jeno lifted your head and smiled before placing a kiss on your lips. It felt nice to finally have Jeno to yourself for a whole week. He's right, you deserve this week with him. You grinned before snuggling deeper into his arms.

It was quite crowded by the time you two had got there. The carnival started about half an hour back but by the looks of it, it seemed like it had already been hours. You walked towards the entry, hand in hand, as a sudden feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed you. You had met Jeno at a carnival. You chuckled at the three year old memory and it seemed like Jeno did too.

He turned to you before extending his hand out,

"Shall we?", he asked, the cutest of a smile forming on his face.

"We shall", you chuckled before interlocking your hands and heading in.

"Jeno, you dumb piece of shit, how could you miss that?", you shrieked causing Jeno to flinch.

"How do you expect me to focus when you’re constantly shouting into my ear?", Jeno pointed out frustrated, as he tried aiming his hoop at one of the stuffed toys.

You were currently having a couples face off. The other couple seemed to be doing well but since you and Jeno have known to be competitive, shit got worse. You guys kept screaming at each other, cussing each other out and smacking the other's head. Yep, just a normal day for your two. Needless to say, you scared the crap out of the other couple and probably everyone else because nobody seemed to be coming near the booth you two were at.

Because of this you two were kicked out of the booth. This only pissed you off more.

"I didn't get a chance to play", you whined, glaring at Jeno who used up all the coupons.

Jeno, who had managed to return back to normal, laughed and placed an arm across your shoulder.

"It's alright babe, it's not like you could have done any better", he snorted. You stopped in your tracks, whipped his hand away from your shoulder and stomped on his foot. Jeno flinched and wrapped a hand around his foot before glaring at you.

"Oops, sorry, I seemed to have slipped. Say that once again and maybe I'll slip and hit someplace higher", you smiled sweetly at him before skipping off towards the food stands.

Upon reaching the food stands, you skimmed through everything in the stalls and it only made you a lot hungrier. You were about to place an order when you realised that you had left your purse back in the hotel room.

You turned around slowly only to come in contact with a smirking Jeno.

Damn it, he knows.

You sigh inwardly before putting on a big smile and jumping towards him.

"JENO! -"

"No"

"But I love you"

"I love you too"

"So will you buy me food?"

"Hahahaahhano"

"JenooooooOooo",

“Yyyyy/nnnnnnn”

You groaned before trying your best to act cute. You begged him with the cutest face you could muster up. You could see him breaking, but it wasn't enough. You sighed as you realised what you had to do next.

Ah, the things I do for food.

You inwardly facepalmed as you took a deep breath before singing the baby shark song but replacing the lyrics.

"Baby Jeno, do do do do.

Buy me food, do do do do do,

Ple-e-ease, do do do do do,

I love you", you shot him an arrow heart and he broke down in laughter. You didn't notice and you continued singing, regret taking all over your body as people continued to watch. You did a small dance with the song and when you turned back around, you saw Jeno with his phone, recording you.

A blush crept on your face as you blocked his camera with your hand. You whined and all Jeno could do was laugh. You looked at Jeno with the saddest face but that didn't stop him from laughing.

"Awe, my baby, you're so cute", Jeno cooed while squishing your cheeks.

"I love you so much", he spoke while placing a kiss on your lips after every word. He still held your face between his hands and kept squishing your cheeks.

"How are you so cute?", he cried before squishing them again.

"Ugh, whatever", you tried pushing him away, acting all annoyed by him. Although you hid it best, your heart's pace kept increasing with every word he said and it made you all gooey inside. You loved it. And he knew it too. No matter how much a front you put up, he would always know what goes on inside.

He was interrupted by a loud growl that came from none other than your stomach. He chuckled before letting his hands fall down and interlocking them with yours as he pulled you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around him and he kissed the top of your head.

"Let's go buy food for my baby, you can eat whatever you want you to princess", he smiled at you as you looked up at him with excitement.

"Let's go!", you pulled him along as you went from stall to stall to order whatever you could. You may or may not have made Jeno broke that day. But you had no regrets. Never hesitate to spend on food. Plus he told that he was buying, even after three years, he still hadn't learnt.

The food here was amazing and the two of you were more than satisfied with everything. You then began randomly walking around talking about random stuff here and there and also of the memories you had when you first met at the carnival.

"Hey babe, let's go there", you pointed at one of the attractions and looked at Jeno for his response. His eyes lit up and he smiled, he knew exactly what you were going for. You walked towards the love boat, nostalgia hitting hard again.

The tunnel was absolutely beautiful, it didn't have all those bright neon signs or those cliche ones you'd usually find here. Instead, they had those aesthetically pleasing dim lights with flowers covering the walls. Jeno picked a yellow one which matched with your outfit and placed it in your hair.

You looked into his eyes as he looked into yours. His eyes held so much love in them. You loved him and no matter how tough situations would get you wouldn't let him go. Jeno knew that and that was why he felt confident with you. That was why he could actually dream of a future with you without having to face any consequences.

As though you were able to read his thoughts, you rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his bicep.

"Have you ever thought about a future?", you questioned. Although you knew Jeno loved you, you were still afraid of whether or not he needed you in his life. He could get any girl he wished for and though you never felt that Jeno payed attention to any other girl other than you, you couldn't help but feel this way. And that's why in order to not freak him out, you asked about the future. Not about your future with him.

Jeno chuckled as he finally voiced his thoughts.

"Of course I have, I've thought about winning a daesang with the members, making all of our fans proud of us, and then all of us members would take a long and nice vacation somewhere, and I, with you. And then I would propose to you, we would be on the beach under the moonlight. I would have fixed up a tent but knowing me, it would be all messed up so I would have asked the others for help. I would buy you the most beautiful dress and have you wear it as you walked down the path, though it would end up being ripped off of you later than night", he chuckled slightly and you shook your head.

"And then I would give you some of my handmade sandwiches which would be edible of course. Or maybe I'll just ask Taeyong to make it. And then once the mood sets in, I'll sing a song and play my guitar, which you absolutely love and then I'll get on my knees and propose to you. Seeing how amazing and cool I am, and with you being so infatuated with me, there's no way you'd say no", I hit his arm slightly before leaning my head back on his shoulders and finding comfort in his voice and the words he spoke.

"And then we'd have this simple wedding with just our families and close ones. We'd buy a house near the beach and make sure the members move somewhere nearby too and then have five kids-",

"FIVE?", you choked.

"Yep, five, imagine how much livelier the house and the world would be with smaller versions of us running around. They can always be close to their NCT uncles. I'm going to name one of them Nana but-", he spoke about every single detail and it made your heart beat faster. You liked the sound of it. No. You LOVED the sound of it. It was all just the ideal way you'd want to live your life, with him.

You chuckled, as you slowly lifted your head to look back at him.

"Y/n, I'm absolutely and completely in love with you and each and every part of you. Will you stay by my side and make this dream of mine come true?", he asked you and you smiled at him. Tears brimming your eyes as you slowly nodded your head. Jeno's eyes were shining too. You pulled him into your chest and the rhythm of your heartbeats coincided. You lifted his head and placed a heartwarming kiss on his lips. There was no force or pressure exerted on either of your lips and you both moved in harmony.

You parted for breath when you reached the end of the tunnel. He smiled as you placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

He subtly placed an arm at the end of your dress which landed on your thigh and slowly pushed higher from there. You felt yourself heat up before he suggestively winked at you.

He leaned closer as you stayed still in your position. Cheeks turning pink due to the heat surging throughout your body.

His lips touched your ear and you felt a warm shock spread down your spine.

"How about we head back to the hotel? There's something I want you to try on", his hands stopped moving when they were dangerously too close to your sensitive area. He slightly bit your ear causing an involuntary moan to escape your lips. He chuckled, completely satisfied with how flustered he had you looking.

He chuckled at you once again, before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the tunnel. You suddenly remembered something, this is the second time Jeno's got you all flustered after a love tunnel ride.

You smiled looking at the back of his head.

This man, you thought,

This man is the one I'm going to love till eternity.

#nct #nctdream #jeno #leejeno #nctjeno #nctfluff #jenofluff #fluff #softhours #kpop #kpopimagines #kpopscenarios #jeno soft hours #cringe #kpopfluff #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fluff

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 4 years

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secret baby ch12

When the day comes for Dabi to meet ‘the broker’ and start his new job doing whatever Giran asks of him Dabi spends the morning a nervous wreck. He scents his entire apartment. Trying to give himself something to do and trying to calm his nerves at the same time. He refuses to let go of Kiyoko as he paces around his apartment rescenting it and after almost 3 hours of this behaviour Kiyoko becomes fussy. Unhappy with being held and being so close to Dabi when he reeks of omega distress. She continues to whimper and cry as Dabi gets ready and starts full on wailing when he sprays on a scent neutralizer. Covering up his natural scent and making him smell like nothing in particular unless someone gets very close to him. Tucking his head against Kiyoko’s skull one he takes a deep breath, breathing in her unique baby scent.

Knocking on the door to her babysitters apartment feels weird, like he’s moving too fast or too slow, the knocks sound extra loud. Dabi is more grateful for the neutralizing scent patch covering his distress. Kiyoko keeps scrunching her nose at him and making small unhappy wails. She’s not truly started fussing again yet but she might once Dabi leaves.The door opens and the young alpha female that babysits the buildings kids coo’s at Kiyoko. Thankfully she’s never tried to take Kiyoko out of Dabi’s arms, always waiting until Dabi has said goodbye one last time and hands her over.

“Ill see you tonight okay Kiyoko? Daddy will be back tonight and then you can stop making those grouchy faces.” He kisses the top of her head and vows to himself that no matter what he has to do tonight he will come home to Kiyoko in one piece. If that means dropping more bodies then he’s just going to have to be okay with that. “I love and be good.”

Kiyoko wails and reaches for him when he passes her to her babysitter but that's normal at this stage.

At just 5 months Kiyoko has started recognizing people and doesn't like being left with her sitter or being held by anyone she doesn't know.

Dabi waits until the babysitter has her inside and he’s heard the lock turn in place before he turns around leaving her behind.

The meeting place end’s up being a cafe that looks very nice for the neighborhood it's in. its welcoming and decorated in neutral tones with porcelain cups to drink out of instead of disposable ones. It feels very upscale, like somewhere Dabi would have gone when he was Touya, it leaves him feeling even more anxious.

“I'm here to meet someone,” He explains to the barista and asks for a water cup. Something to throw as a distraction if he has to make an escape. It won't buy him anything more than a few seconds but something is better than nothing.

“Ill let him know you're here! Feel free to order anything that catches your eye! Giran’s people get snacks catered to them on the house during meetings!” the barista chirps at him in her polite customer service voice. She didn't smell nervous or stressed from what he could tell. Unusual for people in customer service.

“Um, just water please. I'm not sure I'm one of his people yet” Dabi mutters and turns the cups he is given in his hands. Finding it hard to stop fidgeting,

He sits at a table close to the door and slowly sips at his water. The barista messes around on their phone before going back to what he assumes is an employee area. His legs won’t quit bouncing out of nerves. Then an older man in an ill fitting suit comes out smoking a cigar despite no smoking signs posted all over posted in clear view. There’s 3 from what Dabi can see focusing on them as the man takes his own sweet time coming over after talking to the barista. One small one near the registrar and one against the back wall, the last one being on the wall the table he chose is shoved up next to.

“Alright sugar relax.” the man puffs at his cigarette and sits down. The barista brings him a coffee moments later. “You don’t have to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

“What if i want to leave right now and not come back?” Dabi glares across the table. He may sound kind but Giran oozes sleezeball vibes. Maybe it's the poorly fitting suit and the cigar. Probably the nicknames too.

“If you want to change your mind and leave you can. But I promise you won't be able to remember how to get a hold of me or how to find this lovely establishment again.” Giran takes a drink of coffee and pulls out a nice tablet from his suit’s jacket.

“What do i call you?” shoulders sloping a fraction Dabi finally relaxes into his chair.Giran smelled of cigar smoke and coffee blended with the scent all alpha’s carried. It was oddly comforting to Dabi.

“You can call me anything you’d like but most people call me either ‘the broker’ or my name Giran.” he messes around on the tablet for a few minutes before he turns it around showing Dabi the screen.

“I, there’s legal things here? Including actual delivery?” relieved, if a little confused Dabi looks at the ‘listings’. “I don’t understand. I, look. I was given your number for a job I cremated someone about to hit his girlfriend. Also a lot of these would take me months to pay you back. “ it would still be more than he was making now. Still a tight budget to raise Kiyoko on though. He would be getting a large porton siphoned off to Giran. He didn’t want to get himself wrapped up in a loan shark. None of the jobs were exactly descriptive either.

“Oh! Mira told me about you! She’s not usually the type to recruit these sort of people so I assumed you would want to join her in being an escort or something on that level.” Giran swiped the tablet back and swiped over a few tabs. “This more like what you were expecting honey?”

The list was much much longer with bigger wages listed in parentheses next to each title. Maybe enough to pay Giran back in a couple weeks and live off of. Underneath were job descriptions detailing what would be expected of him for each and instructions to contact Giran about anything they were unsure about.

“Any of these i want?” there was a listing for anything from drug running to lookouts to something called ‘observer’. Apparently that one you just sat around in whatever locations you got texted and reported as many things as you noticed. Guards, people, Heros and where they stopped. Giran obviously wasn't a small time small information broker new to doing this.

There was a listing towards the bottom that grabbed Dabi’s attention right away. It offered a generous sum of money and was called “shovel”. Looking at the description it looked like debt collection and body disposal. It was something that paid very well and Dabi could easily due considering the nature of his quirk, with a little pain he could pay Giran back very quickly. However It required a two man team so he would be working closely with someone, who most likely would be nosy and wanting to hang out after ‘work’. It would require getting close to his partner as well, knowing enough about them to make sure he didn’t run to the police with a description of Dabi.

Dabi could probably just as well survive off any of the other jobs though. If he chose something he wouldn't have to work with anyone else and have them snooping around in his business.

“I would like to try messenger for now Giran.” he tapped at his decision on screen,highlighting it. Messengers did a variety of things, delivering things for Giran he didn't want to send through the mail as well as verbal messages. He had explicit rights to defend himself if he needed to and it seemed to be lower risk than just dropping bodies.

“Alright then, can we get a name for you to go buy?” Giran took his tablet back and put it away after making a few notes on it.”I have to admit I was hoping for ‘shovel’ with that quirk of yours I heard about.”

“You can call me Dabi, and I'm not sure how alright I would be with ‘shovel’ as something to start with.” Dabi shrugged, still tense. This felt slightly too easy to do.

“Well let's cut a deal here ‘Dabi’ how about if you end up dropping a body or two out on the job

then i’ll give you the ‘shovel’ rate of pay for saving me the work of calling in the other guys? Sound good?” standing up Giran held out his hand for Dabi to shake.

“ I'm not going to say no to more money.” Dabi shook Giran’s calloused hand and made to leave. Feeling disgusting and wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Ill text you times and places a week in advance, If your not feeling well let me know. We can probably work something out and i don't want to be losing people because they didn't feel like they could stay home”

“I look forward to hearing from you then I guess.” That had gone a lot better than expected, except for signing a bunch of legal papers it was what Dabi suspected a real job interview would have been like.

Kiyoko reaches for Dabi when he comes he goes to pick her up. Freshly showered and smelling like himself again. She’s only recently been able to control her little limbs enough to be able to reach for him and it melts his heart every single time.

“Dad got a job princess! We’re going to be living like royalty.” Dabi purrs at her as he carries her home.

Kiyoko gurgles at him and waps him with her arm.

“Yeah I know, you're always so upset when dad has to leave you with the babysitter. Well i don’t like it either.” opening up his apartment door he switched the radio on for some white noise and put Kiyoko in her high chair. Starting to cook something for himself and heating up Kiyoko’s formula. Which she gurgled and reached for the moment she saw it. Wrinkling his nose Dabi walked around his apartment opening the windows, it still smelled like his distress several hours later.

“Looks like i was worried for nothing Kiyoko, let's hope it stays that way.” Later when Dabi had tucked Kiyoko into her crib for the night he paced around the apartment. Doing the dishes in silence and putting away any toys Kiyoko had out until the last minute when she couldn't keep her eyes open. The apartment still felt slightly empty and when it was this quite it only amplified the feeling.

@ruelukas22 @mostladylikeladythateverladied @xxsnowchildxx @i-like-to-shruggy

#dabihawks #dabi #keigo takami #hotwings #bnha #omegaverse #omegadabi #alphakeigo #secretbabyfic #thedarkonewrites #sorry for the wait

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lutrain2020 · 4 years

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Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Mew!

Commissions: Not right now but maybe at some point in the future when I improve.

Social Media: Tumblr: @nicetomeetmew Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nicetomeetmew/

Tell us a little bit about yourself!

I'm Mew and that's pretty much the only nickname I have on the interweb (although I was known as Brandy for a while but that's a very long story). I like drawing, writing, singing, baking, video games and messing about with my melodica. My favourite colour is black but I've recent had a fondness for purple and dark pink. My favourite animal is wolves but I also love sharks!

What got you into creating? what inspires you to keep creating?

I got into art because I kept seeing so many amazing pieces online and I kept thinking to myself: "wow I wish I could do that." I mean I still can't, but I'm trying and it's fun! And as for writing: it's actually my mum who got me into it and inspires me to keep going; whether it's fanfiction or an original work.

What's your creative process like?

Honestly I'm so new to this art stuff, I just start throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks (metaphorically, but that actually sounds kind of fun!). The only thing that's consistent is that I always end up covering my page with random shapes before I start. I think scribbling helps me get my thoughts in order and figure out where to start.

What kind of mediums do you like to use?

I mostly use my tablet for drawing, but I like mucking about with chalk and oil paints for fun.

Is there a specific scene wrote that you are particularly proud of?

"On paper, she was perfectly lovely. Her skin was clear and fair, her hair fell in long gold ringlets around her face, and she moved with such elegance and grace she might as well be floating. But that was on paper. In reality… 'HEY! Are you listening?!'"

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing or art?

Hmm... honestly I find myself inspired by almost every artist I see. There's so much unique and gorgeous art out there and I think that taught me that everyone is different and that my art is never going to look like someone else's; because it's mine.

What got you into writing or art?

I just wanted to be able to do something. I have all sorts of thoughts going on in my head and using all the energy to create something seemed like a good way to go (that was actually my mum's idea).

What's your favorite part of the creative process?

I love character planning. I probably love it a little too much. I have a whole notebook book dedicated to backstories and headcanons and all that fun stuff. Nothing brings me more joy than creating a whole new life. I think I spend far too much time on the planning but hey ho. It's fun.

What's your least favorite part of the creative process?

Excluding my character plans: I hate following a plan. If I it so much easier just to fling words at a page, then mess around with them until the make sense and I'm happy with them. I tried planning out a whole story once and long story short, my notebook ended up in next door's garden.

What's your favorite type of scene to write?

I think I find it hard to find the line between "what I enjoy writing" and "what I'm good at writing". But I'd have to say, while it's scarce in most of the stuff I write these days, I love me a nice little emotional comfort scene. Hugs. Tears. Platonic kisses. *Rubs hands together gleefully* yesss.

What's the hardest for you to create?

As much as I enjoy fluffy scenes I find them an absolute nightmare to write because my brain immediately says "make them all suffer." I like angst, I really do but it's a bit of annoying when you're trying to finally write something happy for a character an then before you know it everything has gone to hell. Example: Character A has just won some big award, he patched things up with his bestie and things are finally turning aroun- his house is on fire, his mother ran off and he is now homeless and caring for his baby sister on the streets. And yes I came up with that off the top of my head. It's a real problem is you ask me.

What fandoms do you enjoy creating for?

I don't share all the stuff I draw and write but there are a bunch of fandoms I enjoy creating for mainly: Linked Universe: not one, not two, but nine Links? Yes please. I love brotherly bonding so much. Fire Emblem Three Houses: is probably the fandom where I love creating about ships the most. Sylvix sustains me as much as Dimileth does. Kid Icarus Uprising: Dark Pit. That is all. Legend of Zelda: Do I love theorising about the BotW sequel and writing about it? Yes I do. Very much. Pokémon: Writing about teenagers traveling the land with adorable and cool creature is as fun as you'd expect it to be. And I fit shipping in there too (Haudion and FerrisWheelShipping sustains my soul). Animal Crossing: The only fandom I only draw for. Tiny lil animal friends I just... yes.

What's the work you are most proud of?

In my BotW 2 deprived state a wrote a lil fic called Don't Be Afraid, based on the very little we know from the trailer. I put off posting it for weeks but I finally mustered of the courage to do it because at the end of the day, whether people like it or not, I'm proud of it. https://nicetomeetmew.tumblr.com/post/619037409470971904/dont-be-afraid

Where do you post your finished works?

I don't post a lot of my writing (okay I've posted it twice in my whole life heh) but it's pretty much just on my Tumblr. Although I do have ao3 and I have a longer fic in the works which I plan of posting there (eventually). https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicetomeetmew

If you have any fun stories about the pieces you made, please do share!

The only art I've really shared so far is the Links from LU as Sailor Scouts (Sailor Links if you will). And, fun fact, that all stemmed from a simple discussion about what if Wild had a magical girl transformation when he changed gear with the Sheikah Slate. So I draw him doing the Sailor Moon pose in his Vai clothes and that's that, right? Nope. Next day I was watching Sailor Moon and I couldn't stop thinking about Sailor Wild so that next thing you know I'm drawing Wind as Sailor Mercury and then I'm making a list of the Links as Sailor Scouts and The Sailor Links was born. I even drew Fi as Luna. So a full month was filled with a project that was inspired by one simple discussion. And I'm eternally grateful because it was an absolute blast to do (drawing Time with a tiara is just as fun as you'd imagine).

#Meet the Creator #lu train2020 #linkeduniverse #lu

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thekingofkeepers · 4 years

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MY GENSAKU MASTERLIST FANFIC POST

Because I write so much of it might as well have all the links in a handy post for whichever unfortunate soul decides to read them. I’ll keep updating this post as I write more fics!

As additional info, any fic about a particular AU will have that AU written next to the title. Smaller things mostly canon compliant like what-ifs and such won’t be marked as an AU. Also this only includes oneshots as I plan to make more multichapter fics and give them their own masterlist post.

This post is sorted in chronological order, starting by the first one I posted. Enjoy if you do decide to dive into this!

Update: since I still can’t make up my mind on where to put my multichapter fics I decided to just split this list in two- at the top there is the list of all oneshots in order of posting, and after that there is now a list of all multichapters, also in order of posting. Now all the Gensaku fics are nicely grouped up together for you to read!

Oneshots

- The scars we try to hide: It's the first time that Genda looks at himself in the mirror after the match that he really looks at them. The two scars are thin and jagged, running over his right eye and stopping at his cheekbone. Every time he sees himself in the mirror, Genda stubbornly tries to pull his hair over his eye, like that can be enough to hide those scars and shove the pain in a forgotten corner of his mind. It never works. Sakuma tries to help.

- The will to fight: After the match to choose the Inazuma Japan members, something was wrong with Genda, Sakuma could tell, what with how he disappeared without an explanation after practice and came back the next day with bruises he couldn't explain. He was determined to find out what was going on.

- Fever: A sick Genda is a grumpy Genda. Good thing Sakuma is there for him.

- Captain: Being the Teikoku's new captain after Kidou left isn't easy, especially when you don't feel up to the task. They try anyways.

- Eye patch: The story behind the eye patch.

- When your friends aren’t together...: ... even though you and the entire team know they definitely like each other, what do you do? You try to set them up, of course. ... Though Fudou is definitely not the one you'd want to try and set you up. He just wants to win the bet going on at the Teikoku. Kazemaru is very tired of this.

- Anything for you: Because Genda will never leave Sakuma to drown alone in his problems.

- Homework: Just a normal study session.

- Park: A date at the amusement park.

- Anew: (Adoption AU) It all started when Genda met that kid in the park. It all went downhill from there.

- Point of no return: Where one decision changes many things and hurts them in the process. Or: Genda makes a stupid choice to save Sakuma and ends up alone in Shin Teikoku instead.

- Just more school problems: (Adoption AU) When they adopted a kid, Genda and Sakuma weren't ready for many things that came with it. School and mean kids were just one of them. They still manage.

- Of coffee, salt and pastries: (Coffee shop AU) Retail work was far from ideal for Sakuma, even if it was just a coffee shop testing his patience and impulse control on the daily. Lucky him, Genda is there to help.

- Birthday: It's Genda's birthday and the team prepares accordingly.

- Bruised: After the Neo Japan match, their players didn't exactly come out unscathed, what with the hellish training they were put through. The Teikoku team is just worrying over their teammates- especially when Genda is being the reckless idiot they're all painfully used to.

- Of coffee dates and plans: (Coffee shop AU) Ever since Genda started working at the coffee shop, everyone knew pretty well that there was something between him and Sakuma, as much as no one said anything on the job. Two coworkers very tired of seeing them just ignore the matter take action.

- Healing: After their disastrous match against the Zeus, the Teikoku is doing their best to just heal and recover. It's not so easy knowing how much their keeper had to go through for their sake. Sakuma won't leave him alone.

- Once a year: Sakuma's birthdays weren't always great or uneventful as he hoped, more often than not being nothing more than a mess he wanted to forget. Genda refused to let him be miserable like he expected, and Sakuma couldn't be any more grateful.

- Fangs: After the Zeus match, Genda knew he had to become stronger. For his team. Relying on a forbidden technique was not the best idea, though. He'd find a way to work with it without landing himself back in the hospital in the process. Day 1 of teikokuweek 2020: Victory

- Future: (Adoption AU) Reiichi wants to make his parents proud and there might be a few scares involved in the process, but it's alright, because they're still a family. Day 1 of teikokuweek 2020: Future

- By the sword: (Noragami AU) A god should never speak to a human, let alone try to befriend them. Someone should've really reminded Sakuma of that before everything went downhill. Sometimes he felt like a really selfish god. Day 3 of teikokuweek 2020: Alternate Universe

- Cristalline waters: (Mermaid AU) Life changes a lot when you're welcoming a merfolk in it, especially when you're a pirate always on the run. Neither of them seems to care too much. Day 4 of teikokuweek 2020: Beach

- Ache and comfort: Sakuma doesn't have it easy in the hospital between healing injuries and the constant fear of falling behind. He's not alone, and Genda will remind him of it. Day 4 of teikokuweek 2020: Hospital

- Memories of scars: They have gotten plenty of scars over the years. Some have a deeper story than others. Day 6 of teikokuweek 2020: Scars

- In the old woods: (Fantasy AU) Sakuma thought he was going to die in those woods. What a way to go for a prideful warrior, bleeding in some forsaken forest and about to be mauled by a wolf to boot. Too bad it's not his time yet, and the wolf is not all he seems. Those woods were full of surprises.

- Inked flowers: (tatto parlor/flower shop AU) Sakuma had never really talked to the guy working at the flower shop in front of his parlor, too busy with his own work to even bother- he looked pretty intimidating anyways. Then, that guy walked into his parlor asking for a tattoo. There were many surprises that Sakuma didn't expect, but he didn't mind any of them.

- Father’s day: (adoption AU) Sometimes it's the small things that matter. Reiichi still tries his best to show his parents how much he cares, even if it's just a child's little gift.

- Hospital trips: As much as Sakuma loves his boyfriend, sometimes he has to wonder if the scares and injuries are worth it. Unsurprisingly, they are.

- Rainy days: Even in the coldest days, they're alright because they have each other, and that's enough.

- On the road: Of the many impulsive decisions in their lives, Sakuma liked the improvised road trips the best.

- Ice rink: They're on a date at the ice rink when Genda realizes that skating might be harder than he expected. Sakuma doesn't really seem to mind.

- First engine: Sakuma couldn't have been any happier after moving in with his boyfriend, now Genda deserved the best gift he could find for his first birthday after starting to live together.

- Of pain and sacrifices: Shin Teikoku was nothing short of hell, between the training and injuries that kept knocking them down and trying to tear them apart and mold them once again into Kageyama's loyal puppets. At least they still have each other, even if it meant sacrificing anything they could just to keep the other safe a little longer.

- Blessed: (Noragami AU) In which sacrifices are made, more than once. Sakuma doesn't think he could ever endure something like this again. Sequel to "By the sword"

- Among nature: (D&D AU) It all started when he found that cat napping in his bag without a care in the world. Then, he found out that he didn't mind the cat, even when it turned out to be something else entirely, not exactly the friendly animal he had expected. Turns out, what came after that meeting was more than what he could've ever asked for.

- Together: Between the newcomer in the team and Kageyama's return, someone needs to be there for Sakuma. He's lucky that Genda is that someone.

- Parties and drinks: As any college student would do, they took some much needed time off to party and unwind after a tough week. Except for Genda it just meant being the responsible friend and making sure all of them would get back to their dorms. Not easy when they were that drunk. He's trying his best.

- Early sickness: Sakuma is terribly stubborn when he gets sick. At least Genda knows well by now how to take care of him when even making him take medicine is a challenge.

- New foods: (werewolf/vampire AU) In which a werewolf finds out that meat can, in fact, be eaten in other ways than just raw. The kitchen might end up being an unfortunate victim of this discovery in the future, though.

- Haircutting: Maybe it's time for a little change after so many years.

- Cake: Just Genda bringing a sweet treat to his boyfriend in the hospital. gensakuweek 2020 Day 6 - hospital

- Festival: There is a festival in town, the perfect occasion for a much needed break and the date they had wanted for a while. gensakuweek 2020 Day 5 - festival

- Almost kisses: Five times Sakuma almost kissed Genda and one time he did.

- Beach days: Of all the things Sakuma expected to find on the beach that day, a shark was definitely not one of them. He wasn't expecting to befriend said shark either- but he quickly found out that he didn't mind any of it.

- And there was only one bed: (secret santa gift for Tachifuro!) A reservation problem in the hotel they were supposed to stay at in preparation for their next match was nothing. Having to share a bed, now? Maybe that was a bit of a problem. Just maybe.

- Fairy lights: At Sakuma's request, they get some decorations for the season. He quickly realizes that they're not as breathtaking as the one helping him with them.

- Not a beast: (BNHA AU) When a chance encounter with a villains turns into disaster, there is a price to pay. They can only hope that it won't be too high. Or: Genda is still a self sacrificial idiot and may give Sakuma more than one heart attack on the long run. (sequel of sorts to Hero’s Road -first one was for the setting-)

- Demon horns and angel feathers: (demon/angel AU) In which an angel meets with a very annoying demon, except said demon might or might not be his friend and crush.

- Teamwork: Genda is lucky to have the friends he has, even if sometimes they need to remind him. Now, if only he would stop pushing himself and listen to them.

- Homemade: In which Sakuma wants to surprise his boyfriend for the date, only to realize just how much he sucks at cooking.

- It’s always a special day: Sakuma, Genda, and a look at a few of their Valentine's spent together through the years.

- Date in the rain: Or the best they could make of a day ruined by gloomy weather.

- Send me one more message: One day, Genda received a letter, an offer. Even when neither of them was prepared for what would come after accepting, they still decided to try, to push through the hardships. Even with so many hours and distance between them, they were trying.

- It’s not empty day: With his birthday getting closer and all the distance between them, Genda was already expecting the day to be a lonely and empty one, just trying to forget about it for once. Except Sakuma was way more stubborn than he gave him credit for.

- Of love rivals: Sakuma has found his greatest rival when it comes to winning over Genda's affection.

- Seasons: A moment together for every season. Teikokuweek 2021 Day 1: seasons

- Night: During the nights after Shin Teikoku, they find a way to help each other. Teikokuweek 2021 Day 5: Night

- Long distance presents: Because someone has to make sure Sakuma's birthdays are celebrated as he deserves, no matter the distance.

Multichapters

- Made an animal: (werewolf/vampire AU - complete) Sakuma was used to humans fearing him, trying to get rid of a foul creature like him- it just came with being a vampire. What he didn't expect was finding a wolf in need of help when the next hunters came for him. It's not an easy path, with more downs than ups, but they're trying.

- Lion’s heart: (FMA AU - complete) It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission, nothing more. Of all the things Genda expected, the stranger hiding in the decaying, abandoned house certainly wasn't one of them. What came out of helping him wasn't something he expected either.

#inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven go #genda koujirou #sakuma jirou #gensaku #masterlist #this really puts into perspective how much i've been writing uh

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higuchimon · 3 years

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[rewrite list]

okay, a bit later than I'd thought at first, but here is my rewrite list. It is long because I've been at this a while. My goal isn't perfection but to have every fic be at a point where it's A: finished and B: I like it the way that it is. This list will probably never be finished, but I'm going to do whatever I can.

Now, this is what I've got here. It's all divided into sections: rewrites, fics planned for Bad Things Happen Bingo and event weeks/months, and tumblr prompts being answered. Sometimes there will be overlap between those sections. I also have a small section for currently posted fics that need to be finished. I have a rough plan for writing - the fics with DaiKen Week & Zexal Week first and foremost, as I want them finished before their weeks start. Next comes the fics and collections already in progress. Then I will alternate between BTHB and answering tumblr prompts. Somewhere in there I will probably write other things that are just regular fics (probably challenge fills. I have a lot of those).

Tumblr Prompts

The One Forgotten: Hayate/Windy's Origin: 0/1: 0/999: 999

To Walk Together: Manjoume x Fubuki: 1/2: 1,500/3,000: 1,500

Time To Break The Rules: Kinshiro x Atsushi: 1/3: 3,213/9,600: 6,400

Ice, Snow, & Keeping Warm: Ken x Daisuke: 1/3: 3,258/9,937: 3,000 wpc: 6,679

Avenge The Strike: Hikari, Ken: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Sweet Sorrow: Ken x Daisuke: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Like The Rising Tide: Johan x Yubel: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

The Way To Win: Shingo x Yuugo: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

What Was & Will Be: Ken x Daisuke: 0/8: 0/18,000: 2,250 wpc: 18,000

Savor of Wine: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Not Anything But Everything: Yuuto x Yuuya: 0/12: 2,687/38,274: 3,000 wpc: 35,587

Miracles Can Happen: Ken x Daisuke: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Boy In The Tower: Taichi x Daisuke: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Counting Down To The End: Edo x Ryou: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Dangers of Curiosity: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Back To Danger: RYouken x Yuusaku: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Forever Mine: Kaiser x Daisuke: 4/65: 3,052/48,750: 750 wpc: 45,698

Open Your Heart: Kaiser x Daisuke: 0/6: 0/48,000: 8,000 wpc: 48,000

Spellbreaking: Ken x Daisuke: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Your Pain Is My Pain: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Key To A Bad Bargain: Ken x Daisuke: 0/20: 1,063/62,630: 6,263 wpc: 61,567

Team Bonding: 02 Chosen: 0/30: 0/156,900: 5,232 wpc: 156,900

Unforgettable Summer: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/24: 0/258,060: 11,220 wpc: 258,060

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Illness: Ken x Daisuke: 1/3: 3,200/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 6,400

Not So Common Cold: Ruki x Renamon: 0/10: 0/12,460: 1,246 wpc: 12,460

Beginning Bargains: Kaiser x Daisuke: 3/12: 4,678/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 13,322

Flames of Justice: Juudai, Ryou: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Inner Pain: Asuka, Fubuki: 0/12: 0/18,504: 1,542 wpc: 18,504

Mine At Last: Juudai, Shou: 1/25: 1,860/45,000: 1,800 wpc: 43,200

Only One Answer: Ken x Daisuke: 0/12: 3,597/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 44,403

Shirt For A Bird: SHun, Yuuri: 0/18: 0/47,196: 2,622 wpc: 47,196

Assassin: Edo x Ryou: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Whispers of WInter: Yubel x Juudai: 0/15: 0/54,780: 3,652 wpc: 54,780

Lost Feathers: Ken x Daisuke: 0/18: 0/56,016: 3,112 wpc: 56,016

Rewards of Victory: Ryou, Yuuri: 0/17: 0/56,100: 3,300 wpc: 56,100

Deadly Mistake: Shun, Yuuri: 0/10: 0/75,000: 7,500 wpc: 75,000

Reason For Choosing: Juudai, Johan: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

Payment: Shun, Yuuri: 0/25: 0/91,400: 3,656 wpc: 91,400

Demon Lord of the Underground: Ryou: 0/21: 0/91,172: 4,532 wpc: 91,172

Prey & Hunters: Shun, Yuuri: 0/30: 0/93,750: 3,125 wpc: 93,750

That Voice: Ken x DAisuke: 0/16: 0/101,376: 6,336 wpc: 101,376

Bloodfire: Yuuri, Shun: 0/10: 0/103,220: 10,322 wpc: 103,220

Hell Sees The Light: Edo, Ryou: 0/24: 0/108,552: 4,523 wpc: 108,552

Kept In Shadows: Yuuri, Shun: 3/20: 18,246/127,320: 6,366 wpc: 109,074

Keys To The Tower: Durbe x Chris: 0/20: 0/120,000: 10,000 wpc: 120,000

God Granted: Piemon x Takeru: 1/16: 9,035/144,272: 9,017 wpc: 135,255

Divergences: Juudai, Shou: 0/24: 0/147,504: 6,146 wpc: 147,504

Craft The Bonds: Kaiser x Daisuke: 0/30: 0/398,700: 13,290 wpc: 398,700

DaiKen Week

day #01

day #02: Coming Out

day #03: Through Amber Eyes

day #04

day #05

day #06

day #07

day #08: Winning Move

Zexal Week

day #01

day #02

day #03

day #04

day #05

day #06

day #07

Finish Posted Works

Savor The Display: Vector x Mizael: 1/2: 2,500/5,000: 2,500

Royal Hound: Juudai, Wolf: 3/5: 11,493/18,000: 4,000 wps: 6,507

Love Is In The Cards: Shark, Ryuu: 1/6: 1,616/9,645: 1,600 wpc: 8,029

Choice To Protect: Ken x Daisuke: 0/3: 1,008/18,000: 6,000 wpc: 16,992

On The Other Side: Rune: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,600 wpc: 18,000

In Any World: Yubel x Juudai: 4/7: 23,565/48,000: 8,000 wps: 26,434

Passing The Torch: Yubel x Juudai: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Call The Darkness: 3/10: 27,686/90,000: 9,000 wpc: 62,314

Kingseeker: Baou, Juudai: 0/20: 0/90,000: 4,500 wpc: 90,000

Unholy Desires: Taichi x Yamato: 0/27: 0/359,343: 13,309 wpc: 359,343

Rewrites

Through Divine Eyes: Gods: 0/1: 0/1,500: 1,500

Truth: Juudai & Shou: 0/1: 0/2,500: 2,500

A Teacher's heart: Samejima x Tome: 0/6: 0/3,000: 500 wpd: 3,000

Parental Duties: Shinobu, Masami: 0/2: 0/3,000: 1,500 wpc: 3,000

Corrections: Hayato, Juudai: 0/1: 0/3,500: 3,500

To Fuse The Worlds: Brron: 0/1: 0/4,500: 4,500

Rebirth of Darkness: Destructive Darkness: 0/1: 0/4,692: 4,692

A Soft Moment: Ruki x Juri: 0/2: 0/5,000: 2,500 wpc: 5,000

Under a VElvet Sky: Kouji x Kouichi: 0/2: 0/5,000: 2,500 wpc: 5,000

Answer To PRayers: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/5: 0/5,000: 1,000 wpf: 5,000

Upon a Pedestal: Ken x Wormmon: 0/5: 0/9,000: 1,800 wpc: 9,000

Wings of Love: Miyako x Hawkmon: 0/5: 0/9,000: 1,800 wpc: 9,000

At The Beginning: Jou x Takeru: 0/3: 0/9,000: 3,000 wpc: 9,000

Where I Belong: Hikari x Mimi: 0/5: 0/9,000: 1,800 wpc: 9,000

Deepest Darkness: Juudai, Jim, O'Brien: 0/1: 0/9,000: 9,000

Best Medicine: Zhane, Andros: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Crimson Gold: Maya x Leo: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

PRice To Be Paid: Jun x Osamu: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Seduction: Ken x Yamato: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Love In The Night: Jou x Sora: 0/4: 0/9,600: 2,400 wpc: 9,600

Partners of Love: Sora x Piyomon: 0/8: 0/9,600: 1,500 wpc: 9,600

Devilchild: Jun x Sora: 0/8: 0/9,600: 1,500 wpc: 9,600

Heart of a Lion: Juri x Leomon: 0/8: 0/9,600: 1,200 wpc: 9,600

Assistance Needed: Kouji, Izumi: 0/3: 0/9,600: 3,200 wpc: 9,600

Quick Lessons: Shou, Johan: 0/6: 0/9,600: 1,500 wpc: 9,600

Dreamshadows: Yubel x Juudai: 1/12: 1,600/18,000: 1,600 wpc: 16,500

Chaos in the Family: Jun, Daisuke: 0/12: 1,136/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 16,864

Sound of Waves: Tanya x Adam: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Energetic Encounter: Aisha x Zack: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Waterbeads: Cestria x Billy: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Truth Hurts: Rita x Zedd: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Maligore's Children: Kim x Jason: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Adjustments: Karone: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Fireflower: Kendrix x Leo: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Wait No More: Maya x Mike: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Angel's Light: Hikari x Angeomon: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Change: Miyako, Daisuke: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Mutual Growth: Jou x Taichi: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

My Spirits Rise: Ken x Iori: 0/6: 0/18,000: 3,000 wpc: 18,000

To Keep A Promise: Jou x Iori: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Violet Visions: Jun x Miyako: 0/10: 0/18,000: 1,800 wpc: 18,000

Runaway Passions: Takeru x Koushiro: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Hopeful Patience: Takeru x Iori: 0/6: 0/18,000: 3,000 wpc: 18,000

Remember It So Well: Jun x Hikari: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

At The Bottom, Being On Top: Haga x Ryuuzaki: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Brightest Light, Darkest Shados: Johan x Ryou: 0/6: 0/18,000: 3,000 wpc: 18,000

What We Need: Asuka x Manjoume: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Always Someone Better: Amon: 0/5: 0/18,000: 3,800 wpc: 18,000

Everything Wants To Eat Misawa: Misawa: 0/10: 0/18,000: 1,800 wpc: 18,000

What My Teacher Taught Me: Chronos, Ryou: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Subtle As Tomorrow: Asuka x Jim: 0/12: 0/18,000: 1,500 wpc: 18,000

Rainbows of White Light: Edo x Johan: 0/8: 0/18,000: 2,250 wpc: 18,000

STorm Descending: Manjoume: 0/6: 0/18,000: 3,000 wpc; 18,000

Five Deaths We Never Saw: Juudai: 0/5: 0/18,000: 3,800 wpc: 18,000

Warrior's Code: Taniya, O'Brien: 0/4: 0/18,000: 4,500 wpc: 18,000

Cure For The Common Cold: Takeru, Taichi 0/4: 0/20,000: 5,000 wpc: 20,000

Competition: Edo, RYou, Fubuki: 0/7: 0/22,631: 3,233 wpc: 22,631

Meeting The Babies: Vector, Yuuri: 0/6: 0/25,000: 4,000 wpc: 25,000

Two Days Off: Ken x Daisuke: 0/12: 0/27,600: 2,300 wpc: 27,600

Dark Revival: Camu;a: 0/15: 2,119//38,274: 2,500 wpc: 36,155

To Dream of Thee: Daisuke x Takeru: 0/14: 0/37,800: 2,700 wpc: 37,800

A Digital Mess: Caerula Adamas, Kaiser: 1/10: 4,705/45,000: 4,500 wpc: 40,500

Succumb To The Shadows: Juudai: 0/17: 0/43,095: 2,535 wpc: 43,095

One of Those Days: Yamato, Hiroaki: 0/8: 4,845/48,000: 6,000 wpc: 43,155

What It Feels Like: Jou x Koushiro: 0/15: 0/45,000: 1,500 wpc: 45,000

Angel's Heart: Angemon x Takeru: 0/25: 0/45,000: 1,800 wpc: 45,000

Of A Summer's Evening: Jou x Yamato: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Racing Into Danger: Jou x Daisuke: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Until We Meet Again: Ken x Koushiro: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Siren's Song: Fubuki x Yuusuke: 0/10: 0/45,000: 4,500 wpc: 45,000

Time Away: Saiou, Edo: 0/15: 0/45,000: 3,000 wpc: 45,000

Nature of Fear: Trini x Billy: 0/12: 2,809/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 45,191

Iceheart: Ruki, Takato: 0/12: 9,444/56,840: 4,500 wpc: 47,396

Lunar Ice: Aisha x Adam: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Rain, Rain: Trini x Billy: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Sharpshooter: Kim, Scorpina: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

False First Kiss: Kim x Tommy: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Really Relate To: Kim x Billy: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Ghosts & Darkness: Trini x Tommy: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Onyx Tavern Tales: Aisha: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Shades of Green: Billy, Rita: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Stealer of Souls: Tommy, Jason: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

All Through The Night: Ashley x Andros: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Destiny's Awakening: Ashley: 0/5: 0/48,000: 9,600 wpc: 48,000

All Through The Night: Ashley x Andros: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Bald Legends: T.J., Elgar: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Dweller in the Shadows: Carlos, Darkonda: 0/5: 0/48,000: 9,600 wpc: 48,000

To Carry The Blood: Parents: 0/15: 0/48,000: 3,200 wpc: 48,000

Two Made One: Sora x Miyako: 0/5: 0/48,000: 9,600 wpc: 48,000

Before Every Dawn: Yamato x Daisuke: 0/20: 0/48,000: 2,400 wpc: 48,000

Freedom of Choice: Ken x Daisuke: 0/24: 0/48,000: 2,000 wpc: 48,000

Just A Suggestion: Ken x Daisuke: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Wish of a Djinn: Jounouch x Otogi: 0/15: 0/48,000: 3,200 wpc: 48,000

Perils of the Dark Dragon: Jounouchi: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Walking A Slender Thread: YnM x Bakura: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Classes: Teachers: 0/5: 0/48,000: 9,600 wpf: 48,000

Reflections on Beauty: Asuka, Fubuki: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

Sand World Stories: Cast: 0/12: 0/48,000: 4,000 wpc: 48,000

To Bear The Blood: Chosen: 0/7: 0/48,000: 7,000 wpc: 49,000

Tiger's Heart: Taniya x Misawa: 0/20: 0/50,000: 2,500 wpc: 50,000

Magic's Heart: Shou x BMG: 0/20: 0/50,000: 2,500 wpc: 50,000

Crafted Heart: Kenzan x Alice: 0/20: 0/50,000: 2,500 wpc: 50,000

CHild of Shadows: Celestia, Juudai: 0/6: 0/53,280: 8,880 wpc: 53,280

Warrior's Wound: Edo, Ryou: 0/12: 0/54,000: 4,500 wpc: 54,000

ETemon's Envy: Yamato, Mimi: 0/10: 0/54,321: 5,000 wpc: 54,321

Consort: Ken x Daisuke: 0/6: 4,129/58,800: 9,800 wpc: 54,671

Whispers of WInter: Yubel x Juudai: 0/15: 0/54,780: 3,652 wpc: 54,780

Hunting Games: Baou, Juudai: 0/21: 0/55,062: 2,622 wpc: 55,062

Gone Swimming, Clothes Stolen: Yubel x Juudai: 0/28: 0/56,000: 2,000 wpc: 56,000

Son of Trees: Spectre: 0/20: 0/56,000: 2,800 wpc: 56,000

No One Knew: Piemon x Vamdemon: 0/25: 0/56,840: 2,000 wpc: 56,840

Strange Friends: 0/11: 0/57,486: 5,226 wpc: 57,436

Moments Without You: Taichi x Yamato: 0/10: 0/64,680: 6,465 wpc: 64,680

DEvil's Daughter: Sora, Devimon: 2/12: 15,179/79,372: 7,500 wpc: 64,193

Subtle Clues: Taichi x Yamato: 0/10: 0/65,240: 6,524 wpc: 65,240

Colors of the Heart: Mimi x Miyako: 0/10: 0/64,220: 6,422 wpc: 64,220

Lessons in Demon-Hunting: Ryou, Samejima: 0/15: 0/69,385: 4,500 wpc: 69,385

Snowfall: Ryou: 0/18: 0/72,000: 4,000 wpc: 72,000

Fatherhood: Brron, Johan, Rune: 0/6: 0/73,866: 12,311 wpc: 73,866

All The Risks: Ryou, Juudai: 2/15: 14,774/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 75,226

Moonlight Pearl: Juudai: 0/29: 0/76,299: 2,631 wpc: 76,299

Silent Song: Taichi x Yamato: 0/22: 0/77,506: 3,523 wpc: 77,506

Seven Strange Days: Jun x Momoe: 0/7: 0/77,714: 11,102 wpc: 77,714

Road To The Glass Tower: Ken x Daisuke: 0/10: 0/78,890: 7,889 wpc: 78,890

Shards of Ice: Rio, Rin: 0/15: 0/83,040: 5,536 wpc: 83,040

Undead: Yubel x Juudai x Johan: 0/20: 5,979/90,000: 4,500 wpc: 84,021

Magician's Loss: Yuusuke, Saiou: 0/16: 0/88,720: 5,545 wpc: 88,720

A Greater Demon: Juudai, Belial: 0/20: 0/88,720: 4,436 wpc: 88,720

Fragile Kisses: Taichi x Yamato: 0/16: 0/89,056: 5,566 wpc: 89,056

Backbeat: Zack, Zedd, & Zordon: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

Alliance of Onyx: Kim x Rocky: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

Under Soft Starlight: Kat x Billy: 0/25: 0/90,000: 3,600 wpc: 90,000

Switching of the Gold: Aishaa x Billy: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

Cross The Line: Justin, Astronema: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

Arrow of Love: Ashley x Carlos: 0/15: 0/90,000: 6,000 wpc: 90,000

LEader Loss: Taichi, Vamdemon: 0/30: 0/90,000: 3,000 wpc: 90,000

Streaks of Red & Gold: Koushiro x Yamato: 0/30: 0/90,000: 3,000 wpc: 90,000

Rose's Kiss: Mimi x Lilymon: 0/30: 0/90,000: 3,000 wpc: 90,000

Crestfallen: Vamdemon, Taichi: 0/30: 0/90,000: 3,000 wpc: 90,000

Heart's Desire: Jun, Wizarmon: 0/20: 0/90,000: 4,500 wpc: 90,000

Targeting A Cold Heart: Io x Ryuu x Akoya: 0/16: 0/90,000: 5,625 wpc: 90,000

Present Unwanted: Ryou, Ruthven, Camula: 0/20: 0/90,920: 4,546 wpc: 90,920

Emotional Damage: Kat x Tommy: 0/7: 0/91,756: 13,106 wpc: 91,756

Dragon Wings & Demon Hearts: Ruki, Juudai: 0/26: 0/94,224: 3,624 wpc: 94,224

Soul of the Gem: Masumi x Yuzu: 0/18: 0/94,572: 5,254 wpc: 94,572

Giving Chase: Hikari x Miyako: 0/36: 0/94,716: 2,631 wpc: 94,716

Sealing The Beast: Izumi, Ranamon: 0/16: 0/98,000: 6,125 wpc: 98,000

Offering: Durbe x Chris: 0/20: 0/92,300: 4,615 wpc: 92,300

Effects of Terror: O'Brien, Juudai: 0/12: 0/94,536: 7,878 wpc: 94,536

Chains of Blood: Ruki x Renamon: 0/18: 0/99,468: 5,526 wpc: 99,468

Twilight's Embrace: Yuugi x YnY: 0/50: 0/100,000: 2,000 wpc: 100,000

Broken Illumination: LadyDEvimon x Hikari: 0/16: 0/101,546: 6,346 wpc: 101,546

PRaise The Enemy: Ken x Daisuke: 0/30: 0/106,350: 3,545 wpc: 106,350

Deathflower: Death Rosemo x Mimi: 0/9: 0/107,262: 11,918 wpc: 107,262

To Frost The Flames: Ryou: 2/20: 12,204/120,000: 6,000 wpc: 107,796

Crystal of Nightmares: Tamers: 0/18: 0/108,000: 6,000 wpc: 108,000

Behind The Scenes: Sora x Yamato: 0/20: 0/110,700: 5,535 wpc: 110,700

Out of Time: Brron, Juudai: 0/18: 0/112,734: 6,263 wpc: 112,734

Change of Will: Kaiser x Daisuke: 0/18: 0/114,156: 6,342 wpc: 114,156

Layers of Deception: Vamdemon, Daisuke: 0/12: 0/118,644: 9,887 wpc: 118,644

Moonwhispes: Sora x Hikari: 0/11: 0/118,998: 10,818 wpc: 118,998

His Crown Tainted: Ken x Daisuke: 0/10: 0/119,220: 11,922 wpc: 119,220

Supernova: Emily x Jason: 0/30: 0/120,000: 4,000 wpc: 120,000

Queen's Knight: Karone x Zhane: 0/20: 0/120,000: 6,000 wpc: 120,000

Change of Heart: Cast: 0/30: 0/120,000: 4,000 wpc: 120,000

Correct Mistakes: Ken x Daisuke: 0/12: 0/120,000: 10,000 wpc: 120,000

Hunting The Hunter: Ruki x Renamon: 0/30: 0/120,000: 4,000 wpc: 120,000

Keys To The Tower: Durbe x Chris: 0/20: 0/120,000: 10,000 wpc: 120,000

Why Was It You?: Taichi x Yamato: 0/24: 0/125,664: 5,236 wpc: 125,664

Taste of Darkness: Takeru, Ken: 0/19: 0/133,000: 7,000 wpc: 133,000

God Granted: Piemon x Takeru: 1/16: 9,035/144,272: 9,017 wpc: 135,255

Across The Threshold: Ryou x Mizael: 0/12: 0/146,412: 12,201 wpc: 146,412

Divergences: Juudai, Shou: 0/24: 0/147,504: 6,146 wpc: 147,504

Summons of the Dark Side: Taichi x Yamato: 0/18: 0/149,436: 8,302 wpc: 149,436

Six Secret Shadows: Rangers: 0/50: 0/150,000: 3,000 wpc: 150,000

Snowball Effect: Rangers, OC: 0/50: 0/150,000: 3,000 wpc: 150,000

Domination: Rangers: 0/30: 0/150,000: 5,000 wpc: 150,000

All The World's A Stage: Chosen, Dark Masters: 0/25: 0/150,000: 6,000 wpc: 150,000

Shards and Sunlight: Asuka, Mizuchi: 0/12: 0/152,612: 12,801 wpc: 152,612

Tangled Emotions: Mimi x Sora: 0/12: 0/156,144: 13,012 wpc: 156,144

Treasure Hunt of Terror: Chosen: 0/36: 0/159,192: 4,422 wpc: 159,192

Valentine Visions: Cassie x Phantom: 0/40: 0/160,000: 4,000 wpc: 160,000

It Started With A Wish: Rangers: 0/40: 0/160,000: 4,000 wpc: 160,000

Fireborn: Asuka, OCs: 0/15: 0/179,750: 11,990 wpc: 179,850

Always Back To You: Ryou x Yuusuke: 0/30: 0/180,000: 6,000 wpc: 180,000

Of The Heart: Mai x Isis: 0/20: 0/181,840: 9,090 wpc: 181,840

Sidesteps: Ken x Daisuke: 0/15: 0/183,015: 12,201 wpc: 183,015

BTABTA: Piemon x Yuusuke: 0/36: 0/199,548: 5,543 wpc: 199,548

Eyes of Light: Kouji, Kouichi: 0/25: 0/205,000: 8,200 wpc: 205,000

Adulthood Issues: Chosen: 0/16: 0/207,840: 12,990 wpc: 207,840

Shadow Strings: Yubel x Juudai, Johan: 0/20: 0/221,480: 11,092 wpc: 221,480

Pay Thee In Pain: Johan, Yubel: 0/36: 0/234,396: 6,511 wpc: 234,396

Mixed Destinies: Rangers: 0/50: 0/250,000: 5,000 wpc: 250,000

Changes Along The Way: Chosen: 0/50: 0/250,000: 5,000 wpc: 250,000

Creatures of Dark: Edo x Saiou x Ryou x Yuusuke: 0/21: 0/253,722: 12,082 wpc: 253,722

Touched By The Moon: Kat, Selena: 0/22: 0/263,994: 11,997 wpc: 263,994

Not The Word: Yamato, Piemon: 0/20: 0/266,380: 13,318 wpc: 266,380

Incubus of the Millennium Puzzle: Yuugi x YnY: 0/60: 0/300,000: 5,000 wpc: 300,000

Fist of Velvet, Glove of Steel: Taichi x Yamato: 0/25: 0/304,925: 12,197 wpc: 304,925

No Matter What: Johan, Brron: 0/30: 0/308,640: 10,288 wpc: 308,640

Rage, Revenge, & Reprisals: Kouji x Kouichi: 0/36: 0/331,623: 9,212 wpc: 331,623

War Between The Worlds: Ken x Daisuke: 0/30: 0/360,060: 12,002 wpc: 360,060

Way Too Easy: Yuus: 0/36: 0/367,884: 10,219 wpc: 367,884

Broken Wings: Ken x Daisuke: 0/30: 0/368,910: 12,297 wpc: 368,910

Walk The Dark Path: Yamato: 0/36: 0/433,116: 12,031 wpc: 433,116

War of the Undead: Ryou, Samejima: 0/75: 0/450,000: 6,000 wpc: 450,000

So that's all of my rewrites - I think. For now. Plus a few other things.

#higuchimon posts #rewrites #fanfic

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