#then again it has been almost two years…… wow she looks SO different from the last time i drew her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rboooks · 10 months

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The Adoptive Son. Part 2

Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.

Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.

Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.

Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.

"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."

"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.

Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.

He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.

Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.

He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries

In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.

Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.

All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.

Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.

It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.

The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.

" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.

It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.

Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.

"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"

"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.

"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.

He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."

He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.

Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.

To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.

Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?

More questions and not enough answers.

"Y-you could meet him if you want," Crowne coughs, playing with a specialized keyboard- it was so flat. Dick had never seen a slimmer design- his face was a lovely red hue. "I have him for this month, so he's back at my apartment with his babysitter."

Perfect an opening.

"Mr. Crowne, are you inviting me back to yours?" Dick asks, allowing his voice to turn husky with sinful promise.

Crowne face turns even redder. "I didn't mean to assume, but...ugh, are you hitting on me?"

Dick almost laughs.

"I am." He says even as he thinks If only you weren't a scum bag. You are not ever going to get this lucky, you disgusting pig.

"Thank the Ancients. I was worried I may have interpreted your intentions. I would be honored if you accompanied me home-but, not for sex! I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to sex at a later date-just dinner? I can cook." Crowne closes his eyes as if pained, and Dick wishes he was the person he was pretending to be.

Oh well.

They all have their own masks.

Dick just happens to be someone who was bestowed with a criminal. He slips it on as quickly as his NightWing one, throwing an arm over Crowne and placing a tracker on his neck. The bastard didn't even notice. Good.

"I would love that Crowne."

"Danny." The man says with a warm relieved smile. "You can call me Danny."

"Then you can call me Dick"

Dick will have this man rotting away in a jail cell soon. He swears it.

(Part 1) (part 3)

#dc x dp crossover #The adoptive son #Part 2 #Danny Saw the way Tim was being treated and went You Mine Now #Dick thinks Danny is evil at this point #Danny may not want to leave anymore #Flirting #misunderstandings #Anyone confused this was just after Jason was taken in #Dick and Danny are 18 #Jason is 15 #Tim is 13 #Sorry if the ages are off the comics

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jayflrt · 2 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 04. the world of the elite

THERE WERE ABOUT THREE THINGS GOING ON IN JAY PARK'S HEAD WHEN KIM SUNOO CAME TO PICK HIM UP.

The first was the chilling realization that he was actually going to a Yale party. He hadn't been to a party in over a year (save for Jungwon's birthday party where they had to call the fire department when Jake almost burned the kitchen down), so Jay wasn't expecting to end up at this scene again in his new, fake school. (Could he even call this fake if he was actually earning a degree while his tuition was paid for? He could hardly tell what was real and what was fabricated anymore.)

Secondly, was it really wise for him to get close to his target like this? He hadn't dealt with assignments where he had to follow people around, so this was all rather new to him. He realized, however, that he managed to befriend you, his mission could get a lot more complicated.

Third—he had no idea how to talk to rich people.

There were times when Jay had to entertain particularly wealthy guests when his parents brought coworkers home. But it was so excruciating even then because wow, how shallow could someone get? The depths of his conversations with all the rich people he had met were not promising at all, so he didn't have much hope for his social battery tonight.

But Jay was probably on par with some of them now, so he had to adjust to this new lifestyle. There was no way he could lie about his upbringing, though, so he framed a story of him having a rich aunt that was over-the-moon when he got into Yale.

Moreover, he was so confused as to why Shin Yuna approached him. It wasn't like he looked well-off with his clothes that he thrifted years ago. Jay couldn't tell if Yuna was just being nice, or if she had other intentions that he was supposed to be concerned about.

"Whoa, nice jacket," Sunoo complimented once he let his eyes sweep Jay's outfit. "You'll be lucky if Yuna lets you out of her sight."

His eyes grew wide. "Is she expecting me to be by her side the whole time?"

"Probably. You still have time to back out, if you want."

He was conflicted. This was the perfect opportunity for him to get close to the people around you and get some information out of whoever was the most drunk there; at the same time, if Yuna was going to keep her perfectly-manicured claws on his shoulders the whole time, this whole night would be counterproductive.

In the end, Jay decided to go. He figured that if worst came to worst, he would just find the right time to ask Yuna some questions about you.

"Is Heeseung's place close?" Jay asked. The truth was that he already looked up all possible routes to the location when Sunoo sent him the address earlier; he just needed to ask as a formality.

"Down the block here," Sunoo replied. "His dad bought him an entire penthouse. Isn't that sick?"

He fought down a bitter remark and said, "Man, that must be nice. What do his parents do? You said Sunghoon's dad owns Park Pharmaceuticals, right?"

"Yeah, and his older brother, Sungjin, is taking over the company. And Heeseung's dad is a hedge fund owner," Sunoo answered. "They only made it big recently, like four or five years ago. I remember Heeseung used to be way different back in freshman year. Now he's more... subdued. I guess he didn't know how to handle being rich back then."

Jay could see the flashing of blue and purple lights from the windows of the penthouse down the street. He carefully watched the two figures on the terrace talking by the railing. At first, it seemed as if they were just talking normally. As he got closer, though, Jay realized from the faint sounds he picked up that they were, in fact, arguing.

It was you.

Jay had been looking at pictures of you all week, but seeing you up on the terrace was different. It seemed to just sink in that what he was doing was real, and seeing you in the flesh was all he needed for cold reality to seep into his veins like poison.

The man next to you must have been Park Sunghoon. Even from how high up the two were, Jay could tell that the man next to you exuded an overwhelming presence.

But he wondered what they were arguing over.

"C'mon," Sunoo said grimly, clearly having taken notice of the commotion above, "it's just up these stairs."

Jay felt his stomach sink deeper and deeper with each step he took. When they reached Heeseung's door, there was a bouncer guarding the entrance—probably some freshman Heeseung paid to keep watch. Jay stopped in his tracks, wondering if he was even allowed in since he had never met Heeseung, but his friend simply opened the door and walked right in, as if his arrival was expected, and the bouncer paid no mind. (Perhaps it was expected? Jay was starting to believe all these people had history that he didn't even understand the extent of.)

"Jay!" came a shrill cry from across the room. Jay turned to see Shin Yuna all but tackle him, draping her arms across his shoulders. He could smell the alcohol on her breath already. "I'm glad you made it."

"Thanks for the invite," Jay replied, gently prying Yuna's hands off of him, which she allowed him to do but grabbed his hand again right after.

Jay sent Sunoo a help me sort of look, but his friend seemed to greatly misunderstand the message he was sending across. Sunoo gave him a sideways grin and a thumbs-up before signaling that he was going to catch up with some friends in the kitchen.

Great.

"Come on," Yuna slurred, dragging Jay over to a sectional couch in the corner. "I'll introduce you to my friends."

He recognized some of the faces while he was looking into you—Karina Yoo, whose mother owned a private jet company; Choi Yeonjun, who landed a few minor movie roles with the help of his Golden Globe award-winning mother; Giselle Uchinaga, whose father was an investment banker and mother owned a nightclub; Kim Chaewon, whose mother revolutionized stem cell research; and then there was Lee Heeseung in the corner, who had his arms folded across his chest as he sized Jay up.

From what he gathered, this was most (or all) of the people in your inner circle. Heeseung and Sunghoon appeared to be more than that to you, though; childhood friends had a bond more special than the rest, he supposed.

Jay then wondered how Heeseung felt about his two childhood friends dating and now arguing on the balcony.

"Guys," Yuna started with a grin, motioning to Jay with a dramatic flair of her hands, "this is Jay, the new transfer student."

"Hey." Jay waved to the group, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry.

His greeting was returned by a few tight smiles from the rest and a chorus of unenthusiastic words of acknowledgment that he didn't feel too great about. Maybe he had to give up on his chance of entering your circle.

"Don't mind them," Yuna whispered to him as she pulled him over to sit on the couch with her. They were seated exactly across from Heeseung, whose stare made Jay feel even more uncomfortable. "They're all in a bad mood 'cause Y/N and Sunghoon got in a fight before you came. God, why do they always kill the vibe?" She was talking awfully loud, causing Karina and Giselle to shoot her warning glares. Jay had a sinking feeling that she was making the situation worse if she kept opening her mouth. "Seriously, I mean, we're here to party!"

Not that Jay was particularly avoidant with physical touch, but being touched and fawned about in front of everyone was slightly unnerving, especially when he didn't know Yuna all that well. Nearly half her body weight was on top of him, and Jay was pretty sure she would end up sitting fully on his lap if she took another shot.

"Are you... drunk?" he asked her warily.

She gave him a strange look before giggling. "Uh, yeah? Did you want a drink, too?"

"No, just—"

"Hey, so you've really never seen me online before?" she asked, tilting her head in a way that Jay had to admit would've been rather cute if he wasn't so overwhelmed and put-off by everything else. "I'm, like, TikTok famous."

"Oh, that's nice," he replied, sort of distracted as he tried to catch a glimpse of you out on the terrace. He saw a flash of your glittering silver romper, but then your boyfriend stepped in front of you again.

"Transfer student," Heeseung called out. He had his elbows on his knees, but once Jay looked at him, he started to stand up. "Let's get you a drink since the rest of them are being miserable."

Jay assumed it was a joke, but only he (and probably Heeseung) seemed to think so. Karina let out a sound that sounded partly like a laugh and partly like a scoff.

"Way to make it awkward, Heeseung," she sneered.

"He's the one who probably feels so awkward with you all being so quiet," Heeseung said, patting Jay firmly on the shoulder to get him to stand up. Jay had to gently peel Yuna off of him before he got up to follow Heeseung. "We'll be back."

While Heeseung and him were making their way past groups of students packed together, Jay couldn't figure out what the hell to say to him. When he first walked in, the look in Heeseung's eyes made him think he was a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe, but now he was just lost.

"I haven't heard of you before," Heeseung said once they reached a long table with bottles of alcohol strewn about.

"I didn't expect you to. Today's my first day, anyway."

There was a bartender on the other side of the room, but Jay figured that Heeseung brought him here for a private conversation. Without even asking Jay about his preference, he let his hand glide over the handles before he picked out a bottle of tequila. Jay wasn't much of a drinker but he let Heeseung pour him a shot.

"What do your parents do?"

Jay couldn't stop himself from barking out a laugh, shaking his head fervently. "Oh, no, they're"—he shook his head again—"they're no one."

"They can't be 'no one' if they managed to get their son into Yale."

"They didn't get me into Yale."

"They still raised you, didn't they?" Heeseung raised a brow. "My mom's a preschool teacher, and my dad was unemployed up until my sophomore year of high school. Not the professions you expected, huh?"

Jay's brows raised in pleasant surprise. Here he thought that Heeseung was judging him, but maybe it was the exact opposite. He really didn't expect a sincere response from someone like him, but perhaps he just misjudged the junior.

"My mom's an office worker, and my dad used to be a firefighter before he got into an accident," Jay answered. "Now he has a corporate job."

"And you're..."

"I'm what?"

"What're you trying to be in the world?"

Jay took the plastic shot glass that Heeseung handed out to him. Before downing it in one go, he answered, "Someone."

Heeseung laughed. "At least you have more of a story than most of the people in this room." He shot one of the cluster of students a sideways glance and said, "Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised if most of the people here bought their way into Yale."

Jay swallowed hard. He couldn't say anything when he was technically one of those people, too. All his life, he slogged harder than anyone else for a place in the world. He worked at restaurants illegally since he was thirteen, studied tirelessly to get free rides to universities, and gave up a social life just to balance multiple jobs to get bills paid. It felt strange to be one of the people who didn't have to lift a finger for extraordinary opportunities.

For a moment, he wondered if he would get in if he tried applying on his own. There was no use in pondering, though; this was all simply for the assignment—nothing more, nothing less.

"You made it here on your own, didn't you?" Jay asked with a flickering, newfound respect for Lee Heeseung.

"I didn't even think I'd be able to pay for college when I was in high school," he answered. "Of course I needed to work hard. Getting a full ride into an Ivy League isn't something you get by fucking around. Even though Hoon and Y/N were set their whole lives... I couldn't just be the only one who didn't make it in."

Jay wondered why Heeseung was telling him, a total stranger, all of this. He didn't bring it up, though, in case the question sobered him up to the point of not revealing any further information.

But he had to ask, "So why'd you drag me out here for a drink?"

It was a fair question. There were bottles of alcohol on the table next to the sectional couch. If Heeseung really wanted to just pour him a drink, he could've done so then and there.

"Thought I'd save you from Yuna," he said. "She gets a little messy when she's drunk."

"Oh." Jay almost shuddered at the thought of what could've happened if he was still sitting on the couch.

"Sorry. Are you interested in her?"

Jay's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he shook his head firmly. "N-not at all. I just met her today."

The alcohol started coursing through his blood, making his limbs feel less like muscle and more like jelly. Yet, he strangely felt more comfortable in his body.

"Good." Heeseung leaned against the table and crossed his arms again. "I would've felt bad for you if you were actually into her. She definitely thinks this'll make me jealous somehow." He suddenly stiffened up. "Don't mention this to the others, though. I don't think Y/N would be happy if she found out."

He arched a brow at Heeseung. So you didn't know about your own friend's feelings toward your childhood friend? Even though you were in a relationship yourself? Interesting.

But even more interesting because Jay swore he saw pictures of Heeseung and Chaewon together on his Instagram. Pictures that seemed to imply that they were a couple. Their little inner circle seemed to be more convoluted than Jay initially thought.

"Haven't even met her," he told Heeseung. "I'm not the kind of person to spread people's secrets like that."

Unless I'm paid to do so, he thought bitterly.

Heeseung smiled slyly, and Jay wasn't sure if it was one of friendship or as if he had just heard an enticing business proposal. "I hope my feeling about you is right." After grabbing the handle of Clase Azul on the table, he added, "Let's go back before they accuse me of scaring you off."

Jay followed after him, wondering if he had just accidentally gotten himself in Heeseung's good graces, or if he just made a grave mistake.

Jay decided to ask, "Hey, by the way, do you know about the Order of Kryptos?"

Heeseung stopped in his tracks immediately, spinning around so fast that Jay nearly stumbled over his feet.

"What about it?"

"Well, I just—I don't know—I was thinking of, uh, joining."

"You can't just join. You have to be invited." Despite the shame that burned under Jay's skin for sounding like an idiot in front of the junior, Heeseung's eyes twinkled. "But... I know someone you could talk to if you wanna get your foot in the door."

"You do?"

"This isn't like a frat where you have to rush. See, all these people here just target members of the current class and suck up to them until they get tapped. For example, Hoon's practically guaranteed a tap since his brother's in the Order right now."

"Then do you think I even have a chance?"

Heeseung shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. There's only fifteen seats, so it all depends on how much you impress them." He grabbed Jay by the shoulder and pointed out one of the seniors laughing with a couple other boys in the kitchen. "That's Jeong Jaehyun. He's probably the chillest in the Order—doesn't really give a fuck about prestige and background, or whatever. I'd talk to him when you get the chance."

Jay, wildly amazed with how big of a help Heeseung was being, returned the gesture by patting him on the back firmly. "Thanks, man."

"No worries. You should work fast, though. They start giving up their seats next semester."

Next semester. Jay was certain he could get on someone's good side by then.

This whole thing was rather frustrating for him, though. All Jay wanted to do was lay low and carry out his assignment properly, but to do so he needed to get close to you and your friends somehow. Impressing you meant impressing a senior to get into the Order. There seemed to be far too many hurdles he needed to cross just to uncover some dirt on you.

When he and Heeseung returned to the sectional couch, everyone seemed a smidge more lively. Yeonjun waved Jay over to introduce himself properly, claiming that he couldn't say anything earlier because Yuna was hogging all the attention. Yuna, on the other hand, seemed to have already blacked out on the couch, but none of her friends were exactly paying much attention to her. Jay wondered if this was a frequent occurence with her.

While Jay was in the middle of telling Yeonjun and Giselle about the school he transferred from, you came out from the terrace with Sunghoon, but there was an icy distance between you two.

Jay had spent the past week looking at pictures of you every single night. Almost every picture you had on your Instagram was burned into his brain.

But seeing you up close in the flesh was almost earth-shattering. All the details your camera couldn't capture were like the missing pieces that made you glow even brighter. Jay was almost amazed that Park Sunghoon could even fight with you when you looked like this.

"Y/N?" Karina called, but you were crossing the room in the direction of the bathroom. She threw a nasty glare at Sunghoon, who sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

Giselle raised a brow. "You're gonna let your girlfriend walk away?"

"She needs space," Sunghoon answered curtly.

"Oh, I bet she gets plenty of that from you."

"Watch your mouth, Giselle."

Jay wasn't sure if Heeseung was making the right decision when he stood up and offered, "Hoon, chill. I'll go check on her."

Chaewon was quick to grab her boyfriend's hand, frowning as she said, "I think one of the girls should."

Heeseung pulled his hand away, and Jay noticed the crumbling look in Chaewon's eyes before he pretended to be more interested in a loose thread in the couch. He felt bad for her; she was practically being humiliated in front of everyone else.

"I'm the host," Heeseung replied. "I should check on her."

Karina shot Yeonjun and Giselle a withering look. "Our Uber's almost here. I don't think she wants to go home with"—she motioned to Sunghoon with a jut of her chin—"you know."

"I'll ask Ryujin to take her home, but we should probably tell her before we leave," Yeonjun said. He lowered his voice to add, "Yuna's wasted. You know Heeseung's gonna get pissed if she crashes here."

Giselle snorted. "That's probably what she wants."

Jay looked down at his lap. So everyone was aware of Yuna's semi-hidden feelings toward Heeseung except you? Why was it a secret from you, anyway? This friend group—if Jay could even call them that—was messier than he had anticipated.

Jay, who was seated in the middle of the trio, started to feel rather awkward. Surely, they must have known he could hear everything they were saying.

"Uh," he started because he was starting to feel like he was obligated to chime in, "I can call an Uber for your friend, if she needs one."

"Aw, Jay, you're too sweet," Giselle cooed, but then her face of adoration turned completely serious. "But you're a man. We don't trust you."

"That... that's fair."

"Oh, but he's Sunoo's friend," Yeonjun added. "Sunoo would get her home safely."

"Just ask Sunoo or Ryujin—whoever's still here," Giselle said.

Karina, who was on her phone for a majority of the conversation, spoke up to confirm, "Yeah, their locations are still here. I'll text them to make sure Y/N's taken care of." She stood up. "Let's just get going and check up on her later in the group chat."

"God, how are we gonna drag Yuna out of here?" Giselle whined. She gently maneuvered the unconscious girl to make it easier for them to lift her up. "Yeonjun, you get her other arm."

After much effort, they were finally able to get Yuna barely stumbling forward as her arms were around their shoudlers. They said their goodbyes to Jay and Chaewon, but Sunghoon only got one from Yeonjun.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and moved to sit next to Jay. Chaewon was completely sidelined at this point as she picked at her nails and waited for Heeseung to come back.

"Sorry for that mess," Sunghoon said. "I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Park Sunghoon."

"Jay," he greeted. "Nice to meet you. Heeseung told me a bit about you."

"Oh, really?" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I hope it wasn't too awkward."

Jay grinned. "All good things. Don't worry."

"Great, uh..." He fumbled for a moment, reaching into his pockets and then handing Jay a pink iPhone. "Do you think you could hand this to my girlfriend? She should be somewhere in the house."

Although Jay took the phone from him, he grimaced. He didn't even know you, and he felt bad already. Your own boyfriend was sending a stranger to give you something when he could very well do it by himself?

And why did he have your phone in the first place? Jay wondered if Sunghoon had taken it from you during the argument, and the very idea made him feel cold.

"I really think you should give it to her."

His small smile stretched into an awkward grin. "I don't think she wants to see my face right now."

"Oh... sure—will do."

This time when Jay crossed the room and pushed through the packs of students, it felt slightly more intimidating. He felt like a lone fish amongst schools of them, and the few shots he took had definitely worn off by now. Not to mention the recent turn of events were incredibly sobering.

Heeseung's penthouse was nice. Nothing he could ever dream of affording before his anonymous client sent him more money than he would've ever made in his life.

When Jay stepped into the narrow hallway that led to the bathroom, he could hear Heeseung's gentle voice echoing.

"—talk to me, please," he pleaded. "I don't know what Sunghoon said to you, but—"

"Heeseung, just leave me alone." Your own faltering voice was treading on desperation. "You don't have to be here to comfort me. You're not my boyfriend."

And then it grew quiet. Jay was afraid that he was about to walk in on an uncomfortable situation.

Seconds later, the door opened and Heeseung was stony-faced, walking past Jay without even noticing he was there. You didn't even close the door after he left, so Jay inched closer to make sure nothing bad happened to you.

There you were, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and crying into your hands. There was an odd, disconnected feeling in Jay's chest. He had seen so many pictures and posts of you looking like you were having the time of your life, but the sight before him caused all of that to come crashing down, catching on fire.

Back outside, looking up at the terrace, you were so high above him, as if he would never reach you. Now, you were shattering to pieces before him, leaving broken shards scattered around you that Jay was hesitant to tread on.

Once you took notice of his presence, your head lifted up slowly, and Jay really felt bad for you now. Streaks of mascara were under your eyes and your red lipstick was smudged.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, sniffling every now and then even as you tried to act like you hadn't been caught crying.

Jay simply held your phone out, and you grabbed it from him once you recognized it was yours.

"How'd you—"

"Your boyfriend told me to bring it to you," he answered, and your eyes welled up with tears again. Jay sighed as you started breaking down in front of him, but he really wasn't all that annoyed as he sounded. He grabbed a tissue from the box on top of the toilet and ran it under water for a brief second. "Here."

Jay leaned down in front of you and blotted the tissue gently under your eyes, wiping off the residue of your mascara that stained your skin. You tried to resist his gesture at first, but when you realized what he was doing, you relaxed. If his eyes weren't tricking him, maybe you were even slightly embarrassed?

Then, he moved to your lips, using the other side of the tissue to carefully dab at where your lipstick was smudged. Jay tried especially hard not to stare at the curve of your lips, wondering what dark secret you could possibly be hiding behind the corners of your mouth. After he was done, he tossed the tissue aside and stood up.

"Thanks," you murmured.

"No problem," he said, backing up to the doorway. "You should probably keep the door closed if you need some alone time, by the way."

But one look at your expression, and he could tell that you were hoping that someone else would come looking for you.

"Y-yeah," you stammered out, standing up to close it yourself.

"Also," he continued, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Just walk away, Jay. This is none of your business. Just turn around and keep walking. "Your friends are worried about you, so..."

There's people out there who wouldn't make you cry like this.

He couldn't get the rest of the words out. Who was he to speak on a relationship he had only seen for a brief moment, anyway?

Before Jay could turn on his heel, you called out, "Wait! What was your name again?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jay Park. I just transferred here."

"Jay... oh, the transfer student." You said his name so gently that it was almost like you were handling glass. Then, he saw the first smile on your face tonight, and oh, he had never seen someone smile so bright. "I'm Y/N. See you around."

After you closed the door and Jay had headed back to where everyone else was, the loud, booming music grounding him back into reality, his heart sank with the realization that he had already been thrown into a world that he wasn't sure he liked very much.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @hooniesuniverse @zerasari @enhalov @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @en-happiness @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @enhypens-baby @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @isawritesss @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon

#now the slowburn officially begins 🙏#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen smau #jay smut #jay smau #jay imagines #enhypen social media au #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jongseong smut #park jongseong #jay park #jay hard hours #enhypen hard hours

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

midnights, 7 * mv1

the news is out: three time world champion, max verstappen, and his girlfriend of 6 years have been broken up since the singapore weekend.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: wow i took thE longest break from this

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

max isn’t typically the type to let panic settle in. at least, that’s what he likes to think. he likes to tell people he’s not bothered but outsiders are always quick to catch up with his suppressed emotions.

alas, his worst fears have come true. news has broken that you’ve been broken up for almost 2 months.

he has not been able to talk about it with daniel, so he can only imagine how things will break down in austin.

he hopes that it’s not actually that big of a deal. plenty of other drivers have gotten themselves in messier breakups — the post doesn’t seem to touch on any speculations about how yours had come about. he can only bank on the hope that journalists are empathetic enough not to bring you up.

but you’ve been very involved in his career and the cameras on the paddocks. they never missed the chance to have you speak into a mic or have a private conversation with you.

pictures snapped of you together are never posted, but would be directly sent to either of you to truly encompass the privacy of your relationship. the respect shared between you and everyone on the paddocks was treasured, which is probably why your presence had been notable after you abruptly disappeared.

he sinks into his couch, phone in hand as he stares at the pictures that sparked up speculations. it’s a low-quality picture of you leaving the red bull home, head down as your hair shied you away from the camera. the second picture is of him coming out of the building, hair dishevelled as he stood with his arms folded over his chest.

“what do i do?” max mumbles, his finger swiping over the screen again and again, staring at the two pictures. as if it would change the course of things if he did it enough. “do i talk to her?”

“i don’t know, man,” daniel sighs, his face in the far corner of max’s screen. “i mean, the best you can do is to wait it out, right?”

“rumours could spread,” charles mutters, looking away briefly with his eyes widened. “if i were you, i’d want to do some damage control. but that’s probably just me.”

max sits back, staring at the empty half of his hotel bed. your absence is always noted when he’s all alone and he's too awake for his own good, once having the luxury of your company and bright smile making him feel giddy.

the difference between this breakup and all of charles' is that there is no controversy in this one. as far as he's concerned, this is all speculation from photos that are now circulating the internet and your obvious absence on race weekends.

nobody can even really confirm if it's true unless you or max say something. for now, they're just rumours. right?

unless you've started speaking to people, and gossip platforms. but you wouldn't do any of that, or at least that's what he's telling himself. but from what he can dig out of the grave in his brain, there was nothing that happened between you that can be twisted.

but what does he know?

he can only keep praying to the fact that you'll keep it as private as you usually do.

his phone is buzzing endlessly, his other friends sending him texts as the news shocks them as much as the world. lando is asking him if he's holding up fine, martin is expressing how he feels for max, and his own mother asking him why he hadn't told her earlier.

only victoria's message will be getting an answer. after all, she's the first person that found out.

"should i talk to her?" max thinks out loud, maximising the facetime call to get a good look at his friends' reactions. "she never does well with things like this, what if people are bothering her?"

charles' picture is overtaken by alexandra's face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "you wanna talk to her?"

max shrugs. "i don't know. maybe?"

"would that be the best choice though?" daniel tilts his head. behind him, heidi is approaching cautiously with a small smile. "babe, what do you think?"

heidi shrugs as daniel's camera slowly turns to her. "my opinion is probably not - it's been two months. and judging by the comments that i read, i don't think there's much disrespect that has to be told off publicly."

alexandra nods as charles slowly comes back into the frame next to her. "it's up to you, max. as of right now, it doesn't seem that serious."

max sighs again, this time louder as he feels everything coming down on him. he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. "i don't know, you guys," he sighs again loudly. "i just want to know if she's alright."

"maybe not now, mate," charles answers sympathetically, frowning at him through the camera.

"just wait it out. it could die down quicker than you think," daniel says hopefully.

max nods, now suddenly feeling disinterest in their conversation. he only craves to be by himself now. "alright, i'll catch you guys in a bit," his eyes turn to the cats sleeping peacefully on the cat tree, "i've got to feed the cats."

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen imagines #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke midnights

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bratzforchris · 6 days

Text

Inked Daisies (Chapter 1)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: There will be individual warnings for each chapter. No warnings in this one!

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Soooo...my first series on here ♡ In this universe, Matt has a nose ring and his usual tattoos, plus some other tats and piercings that'll be added later hehe<3 Let me know how you like it!! 💐💐

“Nope,” Matt shook his head as you stepped inside the shop, looking at you from behind the counter. “You can’t bring those in here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the small Mason jar of flowers down on the glass case that held a variety of glittering body jewelry. “They’re flowers, Matt. Not a bomb.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. Plus, they ruin the look.” Matt kept his eyes trained on whatever he was looking at on his laptop, but you could see a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so grumpy,” You tsked, maneuvering yourself behind the counter and peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

Matt sighed, running his hands through his hair and spinning himself around in his chair to look at you. “This dude keeps changing his fucking design even though he’s put his deposit down. And guess what? His appointment’s tomorrow,” he sighed again, brushing a hand across his nose. “Fuck, I forgot that’s a new piercing.”

Your face dropped into a pout at Matt’s stress. You had known him since freshman year when you had become friends with Chris and the other two triplets by extension. Although you didn’t see all the inner workings of Matt’s mind, you knew that he struggled with anxiety and stress. A particular instance at Six Flags during your sophomore year had told you that much.

“Let’s see the design,” You offered, filling up a paper cup from the water jug behind the counter. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to make him happy.”

“What? Give him the tattoo for free and then change once it’s already on his body?” Matt raised a brow at you as you poured the water into the jar of flowers.

“You’re such a pessimist, Matt,” You shook your head, placing the now-full jar of flowers next to his computer. “If it helps take away the awful, vile sight of big, scary flowers, these are the outcasts. Their stems were too short and a few of them are missing some petals. They’re the rejects.”

Owning a florist’s shop had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. You had been captivated by flowers since the day your granny had taken you into her expertly tended garden, leading you around and telling you all the meanings for the different plants. In a way, it almost felt like you were carrying on her legacy by owning such a dainty, girly shop that sold her favorite things. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked the fact that your shop was directly across the street from an all black tattoo and piercing parlor that just so happened to be owned by your best friend’s brother, but she definitely would’ve liked the aesthetic of your business.

You drew yourself out of your thoughts, pulling up the chair of another piercer who had left earlier in the day. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Matt moved a few things around on his laptop, opening up Procreate and clicking onto a design. In your opinion, it was absolutely gorgeous. The tall oak tree in the drawing had large branches that extended outwards, but instead of leaves, the tree held clocks that were all stuck at midnight. Underneath the actual drawing was the carefully lettered sentence ‘Until Time Stops’ in swirly letters that matched the chains of the clocks.

“That’s beautiful,” You said softly, your eyes entranced by the drawing. “It’s…wow, it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so too.” Matt mumbled, clearly more lost in his artistic mind than here with you.

This reminded you of the nights during high school sleepovers. Chris and Nick would pass out early, leaving just you and Matt. You both struggled with insomnia, so some nights you would both stay up, pouring over the brunette’s sketchbook together while Matt explained each and every drawing in great detail to you. You had noticed that, similar to you, Matt had an eye for the natural world. You’d never brought this notice up to him of course, but you often thought about it during the early morning hours when you were doing opening duties in the shop while waiting for your employees to arrive.

“But he doesn’t like it, so it’s a scrap,” Matt shrugged, closing out the application and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “God, I’m fucking tired.”

You sighed sympathetically, hopping out of the chair. “I understand. I guess I’d want something I really like if it’s going on my body permanently. Doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying, though.” You acknowledged, bustling around behind the counter as you stacked papers up, put pens back in their cups, and locked the jewelry case.

“I get that you like flowers and animals and shit, but you don’t have to do that. You’re not Cinderella. I’ll do it later.” he sighed.

“Later? Matt, it’s almost nine,” the only reason you had come into the shop in the first place was because you had finished cleaning and locking your own store rather early and had seen Matt sitting behind the counter. “You need to go home and eat and sleep. A) You gotta be hungry and B) No offense, but I wouldn’t want someone who’s sleep deprived to be giving me a tattoo or piercing.” You joked, bumping his shoulder lightly.

As if on cue, Matt’s stomach growled audibly, making him fidget with embarrassment, but not so much that he couldn’t open one blue eye to glare at you. “Says you. How many times have you gotten Astrids and Hydrangeas mixed up because you stayed up all night reading.” the brunette chuckled to himself, remembering the time that you had employed the triplets’ help to create a brand new bouquet less than an hour before a certain bridezilla’s wedding.

“Now that’s not fair and you know it.” You huffed.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” Matt insisted, smirking triumphantly once he saw you sigh in defeat.

“You’re annoying,” You grumbled. “I like Chris much better.”

“Sure ya do, sweetheart.” Matt didn’t even look in your direction as he closed his laptop, shoving it into his black tote bag.

Something about the way Matt said such a simple sentence had you fighting your blush, grabbing your own bag that you had sat down earlier. You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach, fiddling with your phone while Matt finished the tasks you hadn’t completed. “You think Nick and Chris would kill me if I brought pizza over instead of their elaborate orders from five different restaurants?” You asked, eager to move your mind away from the implication of his words.

“You’re coming over?” Matt turned to look at you, an expression you couldn’t read on his face.

“Nick invited me. You know we don’t see each other as much as we did when we were kids. I miss our sleepovers.” You smiled softly.

Matt’s eyes crinkled with nostalgia. “Yeah, I remember that. They were kind of nice, I guess.”

“You guess? Wow, way to treat us like chumps. You got a girlfriend you’d rather be hanging out with or something?”

“No.” it was a single word, yet the boy’s tone changed from one of fondness to something much deeper and almost angrier.

“I’m sorry, I…” You trailed off, studying him as he picked up his bag, trying not to focus on the tattoos that snaked down his muscular arms and connected to the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. “I didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Even though you two were close, you knew Matt didn’t tell you everything about his life.

“Let’s just go, okay? I’m sure the ruffians are hungry.” he grumbled, walking towards the door.

You scrambled after your friend, each of his broad steps equaling four of yours. “They’re not so bad.”

“That’s because you don’t live with them,” Once you were both outside, Matt turned and locked the door to the shop behind him. “Trust me, when Chris burps in your face for the fiftieth time that day, it gets less funny and more annoying. Do you have a ride?”

“...no…” You admitted.

“Can no one in my life get their license?” Matt sighed, not even waiting for you as he started the trek to his car.

“Actually,” You corrected him, practically jogging to keep up. “I have my license. I’m just saving for a car.”

You believed city transportation was a perfectly valid form for getting from point A to point B, but as you slid into the passenger seat of Matt’s car, you couldn’t help but to admit that having your own personal vehicle was a much nicer alternative. Matt pulled out of the parking space without speaking, but you could feel his warm presence beside you in the car. As he migrated the car through the narrow city streets, you found yourself wondering what your life would be like if this is how every single day went for you. You knew Matt would drive you home in the evenings if you asked, but a part of you wanted to keep the rare occasion of rides together just that. Rare, special, something seemingly so mundane that it was almost silly you were even thinking about this.

Time spent alone with Matt was rare, despite working across the street from each other. Between being a triplet and your friendship with Chris, the one-on-one actions were few and far between. But for some reason, on nights like tonight, when you thought about how he interacted with you, you wished that you could make them happen over and over and over again.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Porcelain Steve - Part 6

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.

"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.

"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.

"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."

"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."

"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."

Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"

Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."

"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.

"What?"

"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."

"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.

"You are first, I assume?"

"No. Robin is. She got five pages."

That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.

Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."

He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.

Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?

Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.

"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.

Eddie,

I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.

Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.

Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.

Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.

This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.) Oh. He means us. - El Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will Steve laughed and says thanks. - El I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?

Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.

"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."

Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.

Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)

"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.

Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.

Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.

Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.

"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.

He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.

Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.

"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #having steve write letters to everyone was sparked by jonathans even tho the wonder twins dont admit that #it was a passing comment when he walked in on Will explaining the difference between sorcerer and warlock to El and Porcelain Steve #just a quick 'i wonder what steve would have to say about this if he could talk'#and will and el were like! yes! what WOULD he say? El talk to him #and it evolved from there #also its not said because how would Eddie know? but the list of questions in different handwriting is Joyce's #to avoid campaign spoilers for Will‚ el asked joyce to write that part #they go through all the questions but im not writing those #this was mostly to get a little bit of Steve in here #feels weird to write a steddie fic where steve hasnt even spoken until 9k+ words into the fic #especially since i am NOT a slow burn person‚ not that i count this as slow burn #how do you define slow burn? does this count? help a girl out and let me know

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strayrumia · 26 days

Text

Road to Relationship (Ch. 2)

lee know x fem!reader

Synopsis: [Y/N] and Minho have been best friends since childhood. The two have never talked about the possibility of a romantic relationship between them, but then again, why risk losing a friendship? As they continue their college years, [Y/N] starts to take interests in the guys around her. Unbeknownst to [Y/n], her best friend may actually take that risk the more she goes after guys who don't really deserve her. - or - [Y/N] starts to crush on other guys, but Minho doesn't like the idea of other guys being beside her romantically but him.

Follow these best friends as they navigate their feelings for one another!

Genre(s): fluff, best friends to lovers, angst, love triangles Other tags: jealous/possessive minho, bts side story, fake texts au, semi-social media au + written Content Warning(s): swearing, suggestive themes, mention(s) of forgetting to eat/take care of yourself -> will be updated every chapter! This Chapter in specific has: mention(s) of fighting physically and verbally

Minho stared dumbfoundedly at his message with his best friend. 'She actually got his number? Wow...' he thought to himself. He honestly expected her to text him about her failed attempts and how she looked like a mess trying to entice Jungkook, but he did not expect an immediate number to be shared. 'Knowing that they have a class together, they most likely got lucky being paired together for an assignment. Jungkook hyung is a nice guy after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if he offered his help...'

Jungkook to Minho was his superior, his seonbaenim (except Jungkook would never let him call him that and resorted to 'hyung'). He often had classes with him as Jungkook's field aligned with Minho's and their passions went as far as joining the on-campus club for dance. He often shined in his rehearsals and group performances, which caught the interest of many local professionals that suggested he have his own show to perform. These rare times that Jungkook took these offers and required back-up dancers, he would extend the invite to Minho, to which he accepted immediately.

Because of their similar passion and talented charisma, it was no surprise that they would get along so well. It was a surprise, however, to hear how much [Y/N] would talk about Jungkook. Minho didn't think she would be interested in him because her awful situationship made it seem like she liked the more reserved, mysterious guys. Jungkook did fit the criteria, but he was widely known to be an all-around nice guy.

'Maybe she learned?' Either way, Minho's attempts at logically thinking about the situation did not erase the unease he started feeling in his heart.

How would Jungkook even treat her if they were together? How would he react if he knew how [Y/N] was really like? Would he treat her any differently? Would he like her knowing that sometimes when she has a really good slumber, she would wake to a pool of drool on her pillows? Would he actually be attentive enough to her to know that she forgets to check both sides of the street sometimes before she crosses, that she almost never sees that last car be stubborn enough to go despite the pedestrian light being on because she was too busy spacing out? Would he even make sure she ate because she loses track of time and forgets to eat in a day?

There were many questions coming one after another in Minho's head along with many possible scenarios. He even thought about the possibility Jungkook gets turned off by her that he would come up to him and ask about her, or even the thought that [Y/N] would be so aloof on the idea of him walking out because she's just too comfortable.

Would he even take care of her?

After a long time thinking, Minho tapped on a certain someone's contact and put his phone to his ear.

"Minho!" came a familiar, cheery voice from the other side of the phone.

"Chan hyung, did Jungkook hyung ever have a relationship?"

"Hmm... he's a pretty private guy when it comes to his relationships. I'm honestly not sure... maybe he had a situationship beforehand?"

'Ah... so there's no way to know.' Minho thought. He did get the feeling that Jungkook was all about privacy when it comes to his love life, but if even someone as close as Chan is unsure, then who would know? At this point, Minho felt like it would be better to assume that Jungkook was too focused on his career goals and passion to really go after anyone.

"Why do you ask? Hey, Is this about [Y/N]?"

The sudden mention of his best friend's name took him aback. Minho blinked a couple of times before he made out his reply. "Why? What do you know?"

"I know that the chances of you knowing about [Y/N] being interested in Jungkook is very high. What do you plan to do with this information, Minho?" There it is. Although Chan is the only one that Minho allows out of his male friend group to tease him and get away with it, there's no beating him when his big brother side comes out - not only to him, but to [Y/N] as well.

"It's nothing. If she is serious about him and Jungkook hyung might go out with her, then I just want to make sure my best friend is in good hands. We remember what happened the last time she got with someone?"

Her situationship.

Before [Y/N] was ever really interested in going after Jungkook, there was someone that she impulsively decided to get with for a bit. However, it was not a very good memory for anyone to remember. What she thought was a real relationship turned out to be nothing more but a situationship, especially on the other's end. They had their fling with her, lead her romantic feelings on, called her for their own selfish desires, and neglected her emotionally for as long as anyone can remember. As much as her friends told her to leave that situation, she was naive and believed that there would be more.

She was in so much pain, yet continued to believe in someone who didn't treat her the way she deserved to be treated. With every second that she would cry to Minho, it was every second Minho had to fight the urge to go up to the individual and call them out on their behavior, let alone resist throwing a punch or two. It was also at that moment when she cried on her decision to walk away from them that Minho realized just how fragile and gentle this girl actually became after the hurt.

"Listen, Minho," Chan began. "I know how protective you are of that girl, because honestly, me too, but you and I also know Jungkook well. He wouldn't hurt her, interested or not. He's not that type of guy. You're just gonna have to trust them both."

"Trust her? I trust her to not put herself in dangerous or hurtful situations, but she still puts herself in them! If you nor I are there, who's to say Jungkook won't really be a bad guy behind the curtains?" Minho retorted. His blood was boiling at the possibility of [Y/N] being put in another situation because the guy she's with didn't care or respect her enough to treat her better. His memory of her crying, disheveled, and saying negative comments about herself was etched in his brain. He would never forget the feelings she entrusted to him, and in turn, the ones he felt when he held her in his arms.

"Then I ask you this, Minho. Who can you trust to be by her side and not harm her?"

The question caught the air in his throat. There's not a lot of people he can trust right now to be by her side, knowing how she portrays herself to be and how she really is. He's not sure if there's anyone he knows other than himself who knows her through it all and can stay beside her regardless.

'Wait... Other than myself?'

"Minho?"

"I-"

Before he can continue, he felt sudden vibrations from his phone, leading him to check his screen. A new incoming call. He doesn't know if he was either saved or had the worst timing.

"[Y/N]'s calling, hyung. I'll have to answer you some other time."

"Don't stress about giving me an answer, Minho. I think it's more important that you figure out yourself before you can even tell others. I do hope you give others a chance, not everyone is a bad guy, and you know it."

Chan was right, Minho knows it. ''You figure out yourself'? What?' That was the only statement that made him confused. While his words were getting to Minho, he couldn't help but feel upset. Seeing his best friend like that did something to his heart that he couldn't explain clearly. Maybe that's what he meant by 'figuring out himself' or maybe he needs to actually think about who he can even trust to be [Y/N]'s significant other without hurting her as deeply as her past experience did. Maybe he meant both.

Either way, the conversation stayed in his mind as he exchanged goodbyes and recollected himself to answer [Y/N]'s call.

"Minho! Hi, are you busy?" Her voice was coming in a little fuzzy and muffled yet still audible.

"No... what are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm driving home now!" she nervously laughed, knowing full well what she's about to get into with her response.

"[Y/N], what did I say about being on your phone while driving?"

"Don't worry, I called you while I was parked! Now, I'm gonna start driving." He swore he can feel his worry increase everytime this girl doesn't think about her safety. As long as she's being safe, it's alright.

As they started their conversation, they asked about each other's day. Minho told her how he was up early to go to the gym and that he had finished eating breakfast before the call. He omitted the information regarding his call with Chan. He was sure that if she knew, she would be curious and ask more questions that would not help him. More importantly, he wanted to hear her out first.

[Y/N] told him about how she was thought she would be late to class because she overslept again, but made it with 5 minutes to spare. She also immediately added that she'll eat her first meal once she gets home and recuperates after the lecture-filled morning and...

She told him about her class with Jungkook.

The uneasy, now with the addition of uncertainty, feeling slowly continued to rise.

"Maybe I should try to talk to invite him out over a lunch date or something. Just a little thing to do to be more comfortable with each other before we work on our project and it would probably make us be able to call each other friends!" She pondered happily. "Maybe we can do something like barbecue? Maybe even invite another person, that way it wouldn't be too awkward? Maybe not barbecue though if that's the case, for it to be a first platonic date and it's with others, I would-"

"[Y/N]."

"Oh, yes?"

"Why exactly are you crushing on Jungkook hyung?" he asked, trying his best to sound normal or confused, though it was coming off more accusatory than anything he intended. Worrying a little, he tried to play it off. "I mean, I was assuming you liked the more mysterious types."

Luckily for him, his best friend thought nothing of it. "I don't blame you, but I think maybe my interest towards the type might've been the problem. Also, a lot of you guys kept trying to warn me but I didn't listen. So, maybe it's important for me to listen now?"

'Oh, it's important to listen to your friends now?' he thought, slightly bitter from his own memories of trying to tell her his warnings and her continuing to deny them.

"Anyway, I think you wouldn't mind Jungkook! After all, aren't you good friends with him? I know Chan is! I thought to myself, 'if my friends are friends with him, then surely, Jungkook is a good guy'! So, that's pretty much one of the main reasons. Other than that, he's a really attractive guy, multi-talented, passionate, and a good guy to be around. I think he might be a nice person who can treat his partner well... and I hope I can be that partner."

Hm... that explains it. Although Minho wants to convince himself that it's most likely a crush and it won't go anywhere, her feelings are valid. If she really likes Jungkook enough to want to even try going on dates with him, then why not? Maybe he really should try to put his unease away for her sake.

"Maybe this might be my chance to be in a real relationship, and who knows, Minho? What if he and I are meant to be? I won't be hurt ever again!" she said, her feelings of hope and yearning clear to him as day. Minho remained silent, but she didn't notice as she got distracted with something that happened during her drive that gave her a good laugh. She began to explain the story, but unfortunately, the story was falling on deaf ears.

Now her words were getting to him. The possibility that she won't be hurt again, that was something he wanted and hoped for her, but something about what she said wasn't sitting right to him.

What if he and I are meant to be? I won't be hurt ever again!

He should be happy and he should trust his hyung - both Chan and Jungkook actually - that the latter wouldn't hurt her. He knows he's a good guy, he knows he wouldn't harm her whether or not he has a romantic interest with her. Hell, he even looks up to Jungkook! If anything, he really would be the best candidate in making sure [Y/N] never has to cry over a relationship ever again. He should trust him, he would make her happy if all works out. In return, if she's happy, then so is he. That's the way it would be.

Right?

...

But it's not.

Minho doesn't want that.

No, Minho does want her to be happy and if she's happy, then yes, he will be too. But not with someone who's barely had more than five conversations with her. Not with someone she barely knows and only bases off her feelings from how he portrays himself to be. Good guy or not, no one ever knows anyone's real intention but the individual themselves.

He knows deep down he should trust Jungkook and [Y/N], but there's just this feeling he's getting over the thought of her being with another guy. Another guy who not only has the chance of not hurting her, but also has the chance of actually hurting her. In all honesty, Minho doesn't know Jungkook very well other than them having the same interests and having their normal conversations every now and then during club meets. It's more of a reason to trust Chan's words, but no.

Unfortunately for [Y/N], Minho isn't going to be supporting this possible relationship. Unless he can see and say for sure that he won't hurt her and she won't be sad, he can't support it. So far, she's only talking about the things she's planning to do to make her moves, which is fine - she can take the lead to get what she wants. He'll emotionally support her then, but to actually help out? He doesn't want any part of it.

'No, I don't want some stranger by her side. He doesn't deserve her. She can try all she wants for him, but the moment I hear him make her shed a tear? It's over.'

Is this the realization Chan wanted him to figure out? He's not so sure. He's not sure if he's feeling so riled up because of the fact that Jungkook is a stranger to her and she barely knows him, that as bright as Jungkook shines, there's still a possibility there's something darker behind the curtains that isn't so safe for her, or if there's another reason he can't quite put his finger on. Either way, there is one absolute thing he knows he feels and will always stand by.

To be continued...

Prologue | <- Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (You are Here) | Chapter 3 ->

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

Note: requested by anon :)

Warnings: 18+! fluff/suggestive/angst. mention of alcohol, cheating, heartbreak.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: After a false accusation, you changed your life around. But it came back to haunt you after you met Sihtric.

wordcount: 4.5k

Masterlist

'You're still ruining lives!'

Brida: you're a such a fucking bitch!

You: ?? wow okay

Brida: I can't believe you fucked Ragnar!

You: wait

You: WHAT?!

You stared at the incoming texts from Brida, your best friend, who was accusing you of sleeping with her boyfriend, Ragnar. Which you really hadn't. Yes, you were a bit of a bitch and you enjoyed playing the players, so to say, but Ragnar wasn't a player. Or so you thought.

You: I would never do that!

You: first of all, you're my best friend!

You: you know I don't mess with my friends' boyfriends!! I can believe you're accusing me of this!

You: I have no idea where you are getting this story from…

Brida: Aethelwold told me!

You: are you fucking serious?!

You: you're believing that piece of weasel shit over me?!

Brida: fuck you! You fucking whore!!!

And just like that, your best friend had blocked you. And you'd soon find out she deleted you from all her social media, as had Ragnar. You weren't one to easily get upset, or to cry, but this had seriously left you with a horrible feeling. So you were upset, and you did cry.

And in the following days you abruptly changed your mindset as well as your lifestyle. You had enough of messing around with douchebags, even if they deserved it. For years you enjoyed giving fuckboys a taste of their own shitty medicine, but look where it has gotten you. You suddenly realised your days of fucking in a public toilet or, worse, somewhere in a dark corner on the street with some jerk were over.

No more messing around. No more boys in general for a while. It was time to grow up.

When you finally downloaded a dating app again, you hadn't dated or messed with any guys for almost a year and half. On the app you quickly matched with a guy named Uhtred, who was quite handsome. You went out on a date but, as nice as he was, you didn't feel that romantic spark. However, there was an instant friendship. You kept in touch and became good friends. You soon found out Uhtred knew Brida too. He told you he had a falling out with her about a year ago, and you told him you hadn't heard from her in a while either. You weren't proud of your past and you were still hurting from the false accusation, so you figured there was no reason to tell Uhtred why you and Brida stopped talking.

In the following months you also became friends with Uhtred's friends, and he even tried to set you up with Osferth, which you thankfully declined. He was sweet, but not your type. And his other friend, Finan, who was a handsome Irish man, was smitten by a girl named Eadith. But everyone knew that relationship would never work out, except for Finan himself, so he kept chasing her.

And then you met Sihtric.

Sihtric was a gorgeous and stunning Dane, who was also a sweetheart and a jokester. He was tall and very well built. He had a tattoo on his neck and some on his fingers, and his beautiful face had a few scars, as did the rest of his body. He had a short goatee, a sweet smile, and his eyes were two different colours, which he seemed to easily enchant you with once you noticed it. Overall, Sihtric had a rugged look, which made him smoking hot and sexy as hell. He had the most outrageous haircut you had ever seen when you first met; one side completely shaved off while on the other side he had kept his dark curls. And when Uhtred introduced him to you, on a random night out clubbing, you were instantly head over heels. And to your luck, so was Sihtric.

Your relationship started off hot and heavy. That same night you first met, you already went home with him. You had been sexless for nearly two years when you met him, and no man had ever aroused you as much as Sihtric had that first night. The way he danced with you in the club, grinding his crotch against your buttocks as you felt his big hands on your hips. And the way his muscular chest was pressed against your back, so he could lean the side of his face against yours, staying close. And the sound of his sexy laugh in your ear, when you brought your hands up behind you, feeling his curls and the slight stubble underneath your fingertips while resting the back of your head onto his broad shoulder, dancing to the smooth beat of the music together. And his accent when he spoke to you, made your knees weak and your core heat up. You were desperate for a good fuck that night, with a good guy. Not the regular douchebags from your past, you never slept with them out of love. And you could immediately tell Sihtric was a good guy, which made you want to make love with him even more. And to your surprise, he made the first move that night.

'You want to come home with me, beautiful?' Sihtric asked after a few hours, his lips grazed your ear as he spoke, his arms circled around you from behind, 'but… I want to be clear that I'm not a one night stand guy though. So if that's what you're looking for, I'm not your guy.'

You smiled and turned around, placed your hands on his chest while his moved down your back, respectfully resting on your ass, never making it inappropriate. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to lean in.

'I don't do one night stands anymore either,' you said in his ear, not quite yelling, but loud enough to be heard over the music.

You leaned slightly back and stared up in his eyes, then you both smiled.

'But, yeah, I'd love to go home with you!' you said after you had pushed yourself up your toes again.

And so Sihtric was quick to call a cab while you grabbed your bag, and you went home with him. At the time, Sihtric had only just moved out of his shared place with Finan, to a new and trendy apartment building, where he lived on the seventh floor. And while the elevator took you up to his floor, you had already rid Sihtric of his leather belt, and he had accidentally pulled a few buttons off your blouse, in an eager attempt to kiss his way down from your neck, until his lips were in between your clavicles.

Sihtric fumbled with his keys, trying to open his front door while he held you in his arms. Your legs around his waist, arms around his neck and your back pressed up against the door, while his lips never left yours and his tongue remained in your mouth. Once inside, Sihtric kicked his off boots while he still held you in his strong arms.

He threw you on his bed with a grin, and he fucked you like no man had ever done before. The way he could switch so easily between gentle and passionate, to rough with an almost violent pace made you scream out his name all night. He pleased you with his mouth, tongue, fingers and his cock, and it was the best sex you ever had in your life; because it was honest and there was a real connection.

And by the time Sihtric had made you finish for a third time that night, you knew you had fallen in love.

You and Sihtric grew close real fast, and you were now dating for about six months. Sihtric was an absolute, hopeless romantic. Not a week went by where he wouldn't show up at your door with flowers, or him leading you towards his kitchen, because he had cooked yet another delicious meal for you without you even asking. And you made him the happiest man alive by leaving little notes around his house before you had to leave, or secretly shoved them inside his pockets so he'd find them later, on which you wrote things such as:

I love you, pretty boy x

Or…

You were so good to me last night, I promise I'll be good to you tonight.

And…

By the time you'll read this, I'll be missing you so badly already…

But Sihtric's favourite notes were the ones he'd find in his kitchen, when he came home after an evening shift, while you were half asleep in his bed already, which would say:

I left you dinner in the oven, and you can eat me for dessert x

You couldn't keep your eyes, hands or mouths away from each other, whether it was in private or in public. Apart from going to work during the day, you were basically inseparable. And while you didn't officially live together, you spent most weekends, evenings and nights together, and you both knew it would only be a matter of weeks before one of you would give up your own apartment and fully move in. And in truth, you both couldn't wait.

While you were completely occupied with each other most of the time, you still made sure to go out with your friends every weekend. And like every Saturday, you found yourself in the same club you first met Sihtric at, dancing with your hot boyfriend and having drinks with the rest of the guys. Uhtred had finally found himself a lady a few weeks ago, Gisela, who kept you company when both your boyfriends had to show off and do some silly armwrestling competition on a table, near the bar.

And as the night progressed, you naturally ended up in Sihtric's arms again, dancing and simply having a good time. You didn't know that while you were all over your boyfriend, one of the guys you messed with years ago had walked into the club; Aethelred. And he had been watching you for a good moment already, determined to ruin your night. And after you told Sihtric you had to use the restroom and gave him a kiss before you left his arms, Aethelred made his way over to your boyfriend.

'Is she your girlfriend?' he asked, 'the one that just walked off?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric furrowed his brow, 'why?'

'Nah,' Aethelred said, 'I used to know her. Real cunt of a woman,' he said and sipped his drink nonchalantly.

'Excuse me?' Sihtric felt his blood boil at the words of the stranger.

'Yeah,' Aethelred shrugged, 'she led me on, man. We fucked once and then she strung me along for weeks. Saying she was into me and that she loved me, but she didn't have time to meet up after that one night, then she suddenly blocked my number and ghosted me. I found out later that's what she does. She's a fucking black widow, mate. You better watch yourself. She'll lure you in, only to fuck you, then she'll devour you and after that she'll spit you out when she had enough, and leave. On to the next guy…'

Sihtric stared at the young man, confused, but also concerned. Why would someone make a story like this up, he thought, there had to be some truth in it. You had told him once that you had a wild period in your life, but you didn't go into full detail, as Sihtric said it didn't matter. You were his girl now, the past was in the past. He just had no idea what it actually was you had done, and he suddenly worried you were playing him.

You walked back into the crowded place but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Aethelred, the biggest douchebag of all, talking with Sihtric. When you had messed with Aethelred, years ago, he was married, and he was a real asshole towards women. He deserved to be played with, and he knew it too, but he would never forgive you for making him feel like a fool.

You took a deep breath and walked up to Sihtric, who looked a little conflicted.

'Hey, babe,' you smiled and threw your arms around him.

'H-hey,' he smiled weakly.

'Hi,' Aethelred grinned when you met his eyes, but you ignored him, to which he looked sour.

'Long time no see,' he said, 'I'm sure you remember me. I see you've got yourself a new victim.'

'What is your problem?' you hissed and gave him a shove with your shoulder.

'You are my problem!' Aethelred snarled as he stumbled a few steps back.

Uhtred, Osferth and Finan noticed the commotion and came over, just when Sihtric tried to diffuse the situation, his arms around your waist to pull you away from Aethelred when he brought his fist up, ready to punch you in the face.

'Watch it, you fucking prick!' Sihtric shouted, shoving you behind him as he got up in Aethelred's face.

'You're still ruining lives!' Aethelred yelled at you, cowardly taking a step back from Sihtric, 'didn't you even fuck your best friend's guy? What's his name… uh… oh! Ragnar!'

'I didn't!' you yelled.

'Ragnar?' Sihtric frowned and turned around to face you.

'Wait, wait, wait!' Uhtred threw his hands up and turned to you, while Osferth and Finan just stood there gaping.

'Are you the girl who fucked Ragnar and caused him and Brida to break up?' Uhtred asked.

'I never-'

Uhtred turned to Sihtric, ignoring your reply, 'Sihtric, did you know it was her?'

Sihtric, who looked absolutely devastated all of the sudden, shook his head and swallowed hard.

'N-no,' he said, barely audible over the club's noise.

Everyone stared at you and Sihtric, and you felt your eyes tear up when you saw Sihtric's face. Everyone knew of the story about Ragnar and Brida, but no one knew the truth, or who the girl was who supposedly caused their break up; you.

'I swear I didn't do that!' you yelled with a broken voice.

Sihtric nodded and grew timid, then took a step away from you. Finan and Osferth were quick to wrap their arms around him, knowing Sihtric felt betrayed and played, and he was heartbroken. And actually, they all felt played by you. Why did you never tell them about that rumour? If it wasn't true, then why had you hid your past from them all this time? Sihtric felt used and humiliated, and he needed to get away from you. He grabbed his bottle of alcohol, pushed his friends off him and stormed out of the club. And you followed.

'Sihtric!' you yelled, running to keep up with him as he paced through the nearly empty streets, 'Sihtric, wait!'

He didn't react, instead, he gulped down the bottle before he smashed it to pieces on the street.

'Babe, wait! Where are you going?!' you yelled and you jumped over the shattered glass.

'Home!' Sihtric snarled as he turned to face you, 'away from you!'

'Wha- I…'

'Did you have fun?!' he yelled, 'was it worth it?! Was I a good fuck to you?! When were you planning on dumping me? Tonight? Tomorrow? Or would you wait a few more weeks, keeping me around longer, so I'd hurt even more!'

'Sihtric, stop!' you cried and grabbed his arm when he tried to turn away again, 'it's not like that! I swear it's not like that!'

'Did you ever even love me!?' Sihtric shouted as he grabbed your shoulders, 'just, please,' he said with a sob, and broke down in tears, 'did you ever fucking love me?'

You started to cry even harder, not able to bring out a word, as you really thought Sihtric knew your feelings for him were real. How could he think that everything had been a lie? It made you feel sick inside, and you were just speechless.

'Thought so,' Sihtric sniffled and let go of you, 'I… I knew you were too good to be true.'

He turned away from you again and walked off, into the night. Uhtred, Finan and Osferth ran past you, after the Dane, and Osferth was the only one who stopped for a moment.

'How could you do this to him?' he asked you.

And then Osferth left you too, alone, in the middle of the street, with a broken heart. And when you turned around, you saw Aethelred, enjoying his drink with a satisfied look on his face.

For days on end you tried to contact Sihtric, but he didn't reply to any of your messages. He hadn't blocked you, which made it even worse, because you could see he had been reading your messages, he just didn't write back.

In your despair, you wrote to your mutual friends as well, asking if Sihtric was okay. But no one seemed keen to interact with you, apart from one text you got from Finan, in which he told you what a bitch you were. And that's also how you found out what Aethelred had told Sihtric that night. You desperately kept trying to contact Sihtric, needing to know if he was okay, but to no avail.

Until several days later Osferth suddenly replied.

Osferth: no

Osferth: he's not okay

Osferth: what were you thinking?

You: Osferth!

You: thank you for responding… are you with Sihtric right now?

It took a long time before he replied again.

Osferth: yes…

You: please, please tell him I miss him. I swear this is all a misunderstanding! I need Sihtric… please, tell him I need to see him

You could barely see through your teary eyes when you hit send. And minutes later Osferth read your message and replied.

Osferth: he doesn't want to see you, okay?

Osferth: I think you should let this go. Let him go, before you drag him down further… he's broken, you've done enough damage already. leave.

And with those words, your world came crumbling down once again.

Weeks passed, and not a word from Sihtric. You had stopped by his apartment building several times in the evening, knowing he was home, but he refused to answer the intercom, no matter how many times you rang. You knew you were more or less stalking him right now, but he was the most amazing guy you had ever met. You loved Sihtric, wholeheartedly, and you knew he was the only man for you. You couldn't let him slip away like that. Not because of something you didn't even do.

And so, days later, you were once again outside his apartment building, ringing his doorbell downstairs. And as expected, he again ignored you, so you decided to text him.

You: Sihtric, please, just hear me out…

You: what that guy told you in the club that night wasn't completely true. Yes, I used to be a bitch. I messed with guys. And I know it doesn't make it any better, but I only messed with the guys who messed with girls… I treated those guys the same way they treated women, and they didn't like it. I know it was wrong and foolish, but I stopped that almost two years before I met you…

You: it's true that Brida was my best friend, but I swear I never, NEVER slept with Ragnar. And I truly don't know who he slept with, or if he even did. The rumour was spread by Aethelwold, who I guess you know too by now, and I don't know why he started it. Maybe because he just likes to stir shit up…

You: but I swear, love, I never slept with Ragnar. Never. That friendship ending really hurt me, and I completely changed my life after that. You're the first guy I was intimate with after that all happened, almost two years later. And apart from that one date with Uhtred, you're the only guy I've been seeing ever since, and when we first met… I just knew we were meant to be.

You: darling, I love you. God, how I love you. You are everything to me, Sihtric. And I miss you so much, it's fucking killing me. Please, believe me. This is the whole truth.

You: I never planned on messing with you, that's not who I am anymore. I promise my intentions with you were always pure and of good nature. Please, give me another chance.

You: please know that what we had was real, from my side at least. And I'm sorry you found out about my past like that. I never told you because we both agreed our pasts shouldn't matter… I would never hide anything from you, and if you had asked me, I would have told you the truth.

You: I miss you. I need you. I love you. I won't give up on you. I won't leave you alone until you tell me straight to my face that we're over… I can't live without you, please.

You were a sobbing mess by the end of your typing, and your heart skipped several beats when you saw Sihtric was online and was reading your messages.

And after a few long minutes, you suddenly heard the main entrance door unlock.

'Sihtric,' you said with a desperate sob as he opened the door, and you fell in his arms.

Against his will, Sihtric tried to make himself believe, he held you tightly in his arms as you cried while mumbling dozens of apologies. And when he stepped back, you saw he was just as broken as you were. Without speaking, he motioned you to take a seat, and he sat down across from you. And then you waited for him to start the conversation. But as he couldn't even look at you without tearing up, you figured you had to make the first move.

'H-how have you been?' you asked, fighting your tears.

Sihtric hummed softly and shrugged weakly. He clenched his jaw, biting down his emotions, and then he finally spoke.

'Drunk… most of the time,' he said with a hoarse voice, 'you?'

'Crying,' you answered, 'and… more or less stalking you.'

'Who… who was that guy at the club that night?' Sihtric asked.

'His name is Aethelred. I met him years ago,' you said, 'he was married, but he hated his wife. He… hit her. And one night he showed interest in me, and so I led him on. That's what I did back then. I played the players. I wanted them to see how it feels to be led on. To be manipulated and crushed,' you confessed, 'and I know that doesn't justify my behaviour. I'm only trying to explain why I did it.'

Sihtric nodded slowly, looking down at his feet.

'Why did he come up to me?'

'I really don't know,' you said, 'I guess…I really hurt him. I made him look like a fool, I hurt his ego. I think he saw us together and simply wanted to get back at me.'

Sihtric let your answers sink in for a moment before he spoke again.

'And what about Ragnar?'

'I never slept with him,' you said firmly, 'I was a bitch, but I had my boundaries too.'

'Where does the rumour come from?' Sihtric asked and finally looked at you, deep into your eyes.

'I…,' you sighed, 'I think Aethelwold made it up because I turned him down one night. I think he just wanted to make me look bad, but had no idea he caused a whole series of fucked up shit to happen as a result. I've never even spoken to or seen him again since that time I rejected him.'

'Did you fuck him?' Sihtric asked, staring at you.

'Never,' you grimaced, 'he's a weasel, but he never treated a woman like a piece of shit. I had no reason to mess with him, and… I had standards, I guess. He's not my type.'

'What is your type?' Sihtric shrugged, 'douchebags?'

'No,' you scoffed, then teared up again, 'you are, Sihtric. You are my type. You are everything I ever fucking dreamed of,' you started crying, 'you're the first guy I truly fell in love with, for the right reasons.'

'Why?' Sihtric asked, 'why me?'

'Because you treated me with respect from the very first moment we met. You told me straight up you weren't into one night stands, you didn't want to mess around, you wanted something serious. As did I. And I still do,' you sniffled, 'all I wanted when I left that pathetic life behind me, was a good guy. A good man. And you are exactly that. You make me feel loved, you make me complete. And I know we went quite fast in our relationship, but only because it felt right to me. I never did it to mess with you. Sihtric,' you wiped your tears, 'I love you so much. You are everything. Everything.'

You stared at Sihtric, who slowly nodded again and raked his fingers through his curls. Then he sniffed and, when he looked back up at you, you saw his face had changed. He seemed calmer suddenly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

'So… I'm just a good guy? That's it?'

'Well, no, I mean… yeah… but,' you stammered, confused, 'you're really sweet too. And funny. You're a good listener, you're smart, protective. And… handsome,' you smiled softly.

Sihtric got up from his chair and moved to sit next to you, on the sofa, where he looked down at his feet for a while before he turned to look into your eyes again.

'Just handsome?' he asked with a cocky half smile.

'Sihtric… I… what-'

'Handsome,' he looked offended, 'that's it? You don't find me wildly arousing?' he showed you a hint of his cheeky grin.

You blinked rapidly, staring at the Dane as if he spoke a language you had never heard before. Then Sihtric leaned in and took your chin gently between his fingers.

'You always told me I was the sexiest man you had ever seen,' he smiled, 'and now you tell me I'm just handsome. How am I supposed to believe my girlfriend is telling the truth right now, if she's not randomly praising my looks, like she used to?'

'Sihtric,' you suddenly laughed, 'you're such an idio-'

You were cut off as Sihtric pressed his lips onto yours, capturing you in a sweet but firm kiss. And when he pulled away, he cupped your cheeks.

'I'm sorry I doubted you,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'my insecurities got the best of me, and I'm sorry, love. I should have given you the chance to explain that night, but I was too afraid I wouldn't like the truth. So I figured I'd walk away before you could walk away from me. It's no excuse, but I was just terrified of losing you. I handled it poorly, and I'm really sorry.'

'I'm sorry too,' you whispered and pecked his lips, 'you did somewhat give me a chance to say something that night, when you asked if I ever loved you. But I… I froze. I was stunned at the thought you felt I faked my feelings for you, when we nearly lived together. I couldn't bring out a single word…' you choked up again.

'I know,' Sihtric hushed you with another soft kiss, 'I know, love. And it wasn't fair of me to expect a proper answer then, when everything was overwhelming for the both of us. I think… we both fucked up there.'

'We did,' you mumbled, 'we both could have handled it better, but… it happened.'

'It happened,' Sihtric said, 'and it's in the past now. And you know how I feel about the past.'

'That… i-it doesn't matter anymore?' you asked, hesitantly.

'It doesn't matter anymore,' Sihtric whispered, then smiled and kissed your lips again, 'all that matters is that I love you. And that I never stopped loving you. And that I will never stop loving you either.'

'I never stopped loving you either,' you sniffled, 'I've missed you so much-'

'I've missed you too,' he breathed, kissing your lips in between his words, 'I never want us to be apart again.'

'Neither do I,' you said, and exhaled sharply with relief when he kissed your forehead, the way he always did when you needed comfort.

Then Sihtric sat back and held your hands, and he asked, 'So when will you move in, love?'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #modern!sihtric #tlk

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vesper-tinus · 1 year

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Wow the könig x Lovelace fic was amazing! I’d die to know more about those two if you’re willing to write more, whatever you can think of! Your writing is impecable, and I love the dynamic those two have. You could make it in a way in which könig is in love with her and she’s just trying to do her job but also feels things for him!

Hello! Thank you so much your kind words and love for the snippet 🖤 Been pleasantly busy this new year, but hopefully I managed to write something you can appreciate! I apologise for the long wait.

𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐠 König x Female ! Reader

Summary: When did you allow yourself to become so familiar with König? Keywords: Protective König perhaps? Reader's callsign is once again "Lovelace", subtle continuation of previous snippet with the same callsign. I did not mean for it to be... sort of sad? Wordcount: 1356

It has become somewhat of a ritual. A normalcy in the abnormal lives the two of you are experiencing each day. Whenever you grace the shooting range with your presence, König keeps you company, all sevensome of him. You are not used to this sort of attention, and more often than not, you work alone. You live alone. You practise alone… and yet, you cannot find it in yourself to dislike it.

It's almost peculiar how well he reads you.

The way he knows which nights—always nights, you never practise during the day—you’re feeling talkative, and which ones you’re feeling less inclined to.

Sometimes, he remains a silent observer, a fly on the wall. But you see the calculative gaze. He’s putting your moves to memory, your tactics and preferences… but sometimes he looks for something more. Sometimes his eyes linger on your face, or on your figure. How your lips upturn when you hit a bullseye, or the way your eyes briefly flicker to him to gauge his reaction.

When you are reflected in those expressive eyes of his, you wonder what he sees?

Other times, he’s vocal and daring, matching you shot for shot. Boldly and purposefully provoking reactions from you to see what makes you laugh, or God forbid, what makes you embarrassed. It backfires occasionally—often—but you’ve noticed that he’s not against it. Not at all. With each subtle remark, he grows more bold.

You find yourself not completely against that either.

And in the rarest of times, you forgo the practice all together. Instead, you settle against the wall. Shoulder to shoulder, knee brushing knee. Those are the peaceful moments. Fleeting glances, careful words and feathery touches. How your hand lingers on his elbow as you guide his shots, and how he rests a heavy palm on your lower back when escorting you past the threshold of the door.

Tonight is no different.

With the exception of König’s arm being confined in a sling.

Thankfully, his injury was less severe than you had all originally come to believe, and should reach a full recovery within a few days of rest—granted that he does not strain his arm. The mission you had been brought in for was a success. With your team’s recent discoveries, there is no further need for action on your part. Leaving you with a few days waiting for approval, and then, you will be on your way to the next mission. Away from KorTec, and away from König.

He knows this, and you suspect that’s largely why he remains stubbornly silent. Silent with a furrowed brow, sneaking glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. Perhaps it is his way of prolonging your stay, making the time pass at an excruciatingly slow pace. You don’t want your final days with him to be like this.

“That reminds me,” you say, piercing the lingering silence as you turn on your heels to move towards the satchel you’ve left leaning against the wall. König follows you closely, like he does, a habit you have become frighteningly fond of. “This”—you pull something out before offering your palm to him—“belongs to you, I believe.”

As a consequence of König’s injury, his sleeve had been mauled beyond recognition, but you managed to salvage the Austrian patch that decorated it. The threads have been slightly loosened, and the white has been bloodied, but from your years of service, you know many soldiers feel some sort of attachment to their flag. You tried mending it the best you could, carefully scrubbing it with a damp handkerchief, but you did not want to risk unravelling it.

When did you become so sentimental? Perhaps it’s because you have no flag of your own. The details surrounding your personal life have been, more or less, erased. You are a sniper, and a sniper is all you will be. Nothing more, nothing less… and it’s especially not because it belongs to him.

“You… saved it?” he asks, almost bewildered that anyone of your renown would even think of picking it up from the dirtied and bloodied ground.

“Yes. When the attacker slashed—“

“My arm… by the staircase.” He takes the patch, turning it and inspecting it in his large palm. Silence settles between the two of you again, and you watch him with trained eyes. Trained eyes that see the slow rise and fall of his chest, and how his eyes subtly widen at the gesture. He is at a loss for words, and you do not blame him, for you, yourself, are uncertain as to what to say. You smooth down the fabric of your trousers, waiting.

During your mission, you had been carefully picking off bodies, one by one, from your sniper’s nest outside. And when the dust settled, and the gunfire stopped, you were asked—no—ordered to rendezvous inside the building with the others. You are rarely, if ever, asked to leave your position before pickup arrives, so begrudgingly, you snuck your way towards the rest of your team. It left a sour taste in your mouth, but what could you do? Most experienced or not, defiance against orders is not something you are willing to risk staining your “resume”.

The fight had been chaotic.

Windows blown out of their hinges, shards of glass staining every inch of the wooden floor. Splinters, blood, and everything in between. Broken doors and a makeshift bomb in the making, crowded by your team. It’s too close compared to what you are used to. The smell, the heat. You are meant to stay at a distance, never within an arm’s reach.

Nobody expected there to be a secret compartment built into the staircase. Nobody expected there to be someone inside. Nobody expected someone to brave a squad of armed soldiers, but rage makes men blind. And you felt his disdain. You heard it when he called you a ‘sniping bitch’, tearing through the flimsy, concealed door like it was a B-Horror Movie.

König had shoved you without warning, taking the brunt of the attacker’s ire. A flurry of desperation and glistening metal. You’ve seen it plenty of times before, though never this close, and never with it aimed at you. The entire confrontation took no longer than a few seconds, with you ending it with a shot the assailant’s head out at point blank. König was bleeding, you were unscathed, and the aggressor was lying dead on the floor, and partially on the wall.

You recall König growling obscenities at your squad leader, shoving him against the wall, fist tightly gripping the collar of his tactical jacket. Almost hoisting him up due to their height difference. His arm was bleeding, and he didn’t care. He was furious.

He was furious for you.

Had you not talked him out of it, you have no doubt that the team would resort to physicality to get König to release his grip. But he needed medical attention, and you wanted to get out of there. Everyone looked at the two of you differently, from this point on. The sniper and her guard dog. The world-renowned sniper and the man willing to tear into his squad leader with his bare teeth, allegedly, for her. Another reputation to pin upon your back.

In the shooting range, König lifts his head to watch you, but startles belatedly when he finds you staring back at him.

“I…” he says, his throat feeling drier with each turn of the patch. “Want you to have it, Love.”

A beat of silence.

You find yourself waiting for the latter of your callsign, but it never comes.

When did he start to see you—know you—as ‘Love’.

“To remind you of me when you leave.” Heavy lidded eyes, pale blue, pour over every detail they can find in your expression, flitting from one feature to the next. Will you accept it? Do you find it distasteful? Clingy? He takes a step closer to you, pressing the Austrian patch against your palm, gently closing your fingers around it. “Please.”

You wish he didn’t look at you like that.

Like he could love you.

#könig x reader #könig #könig cod #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #x reader #reader #fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 imagine #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #reader imagine #female reader

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har-rison-s · 3 months

Text

mask & seek: 15

batman x fem!reader

based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she’s from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson’s universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn’t trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues??

author's note: hey all :) mask & seek is forreal back this time. i think this is my favourite series ever, sooooo.... i really want to like actually finish it. there's not a lot left honestly, but don't worry, no spoilers. i hope you guys are still tuning into this, i know it's been like..... more than a year since i published 14, and almost two years since i started mask & seek too.... wow. that's insane. so! bruce and y/n are so cute in this. happy reading <3

main masterlist

bruce wayne masterlist

part fourteen

word count: 4.7k

warnings: little bit of smut towards the end, it's pretty short, some anxieties, self-doubting

gif credit goes to author! (i know it's neil but i needed a sorta domestic bruce gif and there are none!!! i cannot find them!!)

“okay, here goes,” y/n mutters with a heavy heart and a chest that seems to have grown ten times its usual weight. she sticks the porta filter back into its place in the coffee machine and faces vanessa with a heavy sigh. everything is heavy as of now, most of all - her own heart. vanessa meets y/n’s dark eyes with her bright ones, “i... will be quitting this job soon.” y/n finally tells her.

immediately she thinks her voice was too quiet, too unsure, too dark even, maybe? and maybe she uttered the words too fast. but really, no matter what voice she uses or how she says it, the news stay the same, and they still break vanessa’s heart. her eyes grow wide and her mouth hangs slightly agape. “what? you’re leaving?” she asks in nearly a whisper, shock and sadness all over her features. y/n can do nothing else but nod. “why? are you going somewhere? did something bad happen yesterday or something?”

“no, no, no, not at all,” y/n answers with a shake of her head. god, does she tell her the truth? it’s been a only a few days since that faithful night and morning that were followed by this decision being made, officially. it’s been hard for y/n to muster the courage to tell her co-workers, much less her boss, about leaving this job, but it’s also been killing her not to tell them. so here she is, choosing vanessa as the first person she tells. mainly because vanessa has become sort-of her best friend, and she trusts her the most, “i, uh... i got a really good job offer. it’s something completely different, but actually in the field or, value margin, that i wanna work in, and have wanted to for... a while. basically since i was a kid.”

“not a team of crazy scientists, i hope?” vanessa asks, now her face changing to doubt. it makes y/n laugh, and she does so while shaking her head. “okay, what is it, then? some genie came up to you and offered you three wishes, one of them being getting your childhood dream job?” vanessa gets more casual and closer again. y/n chuckles again.

“something similar to that,” y/n nods along, “only the genie is a man who happens to have very, you know, thick pockets,” y/n wiggles her eyebrows, and vanessa laughs, “he’s honestly the kind of man who’d fulfil more than three of my wishes, he’s made that quite clear.”

vanessa grows an ear-to-ear wide grin and gives y/n a wicked look. “is this about bruce wayne coming to visit you here those days back?” she asks and steps even closer to y/n, so their conversation would get more private in the café with nearly all full tables, “did you guys work it out? and how do you even know him? he’s a very hard man to catch outside his enormous house, much less to meet.”

now, bruce had predicted that this kind of question would come up for both of them, and that they couldn’t just dodge it. he also predicted that people would want a clear status of their relationship, to know how the business would really work and how it came to work at all. his and y/n’s conversation about it came to start on something like...

“i don’t want to be a faceless fling of yours in the eyes of the media and public,” y/n admits with a frown on her face, and bruce looks to her.

“well, you’d be the first one to have that title,” bruce faintly jokes. y/n gives him a curious look, still thinking that it sounds kind of impossible, “at least we’re the same age. they’ll take you somewhat seriously.”

“somewhat seriously?” she echoes, now turning to face him completely, one leg bent at the knee before her, on which she lazily splays her arm. bruce shakes his head.

“trust me, i know this so-called industry,” he clarifies, “the press love the old billionaires and their young fling-of-the-months.” bruce says and has a dark-humoured chuckle. it’s sad, really, that old men go after much more younger women, and that the press make all their money off it. bruce knows that. he’d never want to be that kind of man, and he’d never wish that fate upon any girl. “what do you want to be to the public?” bruce asks y/n as he looks to her again, his shoulders hunched forward.

she shrugs. “don’t want to lie about anything that i am, or what we are,” she says truthfully, “but then again – tell the truth, and they find a way to make up lies, anyway.” y/n chuckles and shrugs her shoulders, looking thoughtfully out of the window.

bruce wears a faint smile on his face. “how does being my wife sound to you?” he asks her in a soft tone. that question, though it’s just a casual one mentioning an option for their title, makes y/n look at bruce again. she smiles, too, her head tilted to the side as it’s resting on her knee now.

“for the papers or... in actuality?” she clarifies. bruce smiles wider. he wouldn’t mind having her as his wife, though we all know that’s an understatement, but he needs her consent, of course. he already feels closest to her now, sitting with her in her apartment, and he felt close to her and with her when she was at his mansion. marriage is only a document, two rings and a ceremony. he doesn’t need that to know that he loves her, to have proof that they’ll want and belong to each other forever.

so bruce shrugs for an answer. “whichever one you want.” he answers truthfully. it’s really all up to her. it’s her image to society, after all. and yes, of course, the medias and public change it to what they want it to be, but at the end of the day, she is the foundation of herself and how she is viewed. y/n smiles again, this time with a hum.

“neither, to be honest,” she answers and turns her gaze back to the window, “i’m not ready to be someone’s wife. not because i’d be scared of commitment or anything, no. i feel you and me have committed for quite some time now,” y/n says and they both chuckle, knowing it’s true, “no, it’s just that the word has so much meaning, so much... weight and unnecessary stigma around it, you know. like, you tell a person that you’re someone’s wife, and in their eyes you’re already pregnant, have two cars, a cul-de-sac and its garage full of washing machines, fridges and driers.” bruce laughs further. “plus, being a wife is just a legal paper and title. i could be your wife in my head, if i liked the title, without any legal, official papers.” bruce has quieted down, and just smiles now. it kills him to realise more and more, with each day and each new conversation with her, just how similar they are. they both see marriage the same way. “i wouldn’t say no if you proposed at any point in the future, though,” y/n clarifies and bruce chuckles again, like a school boy, “just making sure you heard me.”

“i hear you,” he confirms with a nod and that smile still on his face, “how double standard of me to not need to worry about my title. what if i wanted to be your husband or your fling of the month?” he suggests, and that makes y/n laugh loudly. she hops off the window sill, only wearing one of her huge thrifted sweaters and a pair of pajama shorts, and still giggling, tiptoes her way over to bruce, her thin socks touching the wooden floor of her apartment. he watches her all the way of doing so, and now that she’s comfortably sitting close next to him on the sofa, his eyes take on a more private gaze at her. she makes one of her beautiful smiles at him and breathes a short sigh. “what about you being my... girlfriend?” bruce now suggests, his voice a bit quieter.

y/n’s smile grows even wider, and her mushed cheeks are complimented by a deep crimson blush. she smiles so wide her eyes are barely visible, but the small portion of them still visible shine with the few tears gathered in them. just pure happy tears, nothing else. she shrugs her shoulders and then moves closer to bruce. his body grows immediately aware of the proximity. “well, my only condition would be...” y/n starts to say, and sighs quickly again, “that you’ll be my boyfriend.” she says. and she thinks god, there must be more age appropriate terms for boyfriend and girlfriend for people their age, something between boyfriend and husband, and girlfriend and wife. partner seems too formal, as well. she feels too young saying saying boyfriend, and too old saying partner. but, she guesses, since they’re just playing with these terms, also the ones the medias like to use, there’s no harm in saying boyfriend and girlfriend.

bruce cracks a wide smile at that, something only y/n gets to see and even she rarely does, and his pale cheeks blush a rose pink for a moment, too. on the rare occasion y/n sees him blush, she always takes note of how the rose pink brings out the soft brown of his eyes, and the gentleness of his eyes altogether. they’re usually dark, filled with emotion to the brim, and encircled by that dark matter he uses. but his eyes are gentle, as is he. the light brown irises look up into y/n’s eyes with care and ease, and a smile still faintly displays itself on bruce’s lips, “i think that’s a good deal.” he says in a voice deep and soft.

y/n smiles wide again and gets the closest to him that she can. legs entangled, y/n partly laying in his lap, faces close but hands still withdrawn from each other. “yeah?” she asks him in a faint whisper, and now her hand glides over the side of bruce’s face, like he’s often done to her, and she adores it. she only expects more of that in the future.

his eyelids flicker as he looks up at her, and any expression except adoration and submission fades away from his features. bruce only gives her a nod in response and y/n smiles. the world goes completely quiet as she presses her lips down onto his. only their inhaling of breath can be heard as bruce encircles her waist with his arms and pulls her body impossibly closer to his own. y/n holds both sides of his face now, continuing to kiss him—still hoping she’s good at it—and draws in breaths through her nose because the event and sensation of kissing bruce is drawing out all air and suffocating her in the best way possible.

“we, uh...” y/n’s mind fogs a bit from that memory, but only pleasantly so, “we met through friends in the justice department.” she tells her, hoping it’ll be enough. she and bruce planned out a small cover story for them to use, involving an old friend of bruce’s in the justice department, who happens to be on vacation right now.

“oh, you never told me you had friends there!” vanessa muses. “tell me exactly how you met, i need all the details.”

y/n chuckles, and hopes the nervousness in her chuckle doesn’t appear too strong. “it’s nothing romantic, i promise,” she tells vanessa, “they visited me here on a closing shift after some dinner they’d had, and bruce happened to be with them.” y/n says, but she knows she’s gotta do better than that. funny, how her whole life here in gotham has been built on lies she’s told, and she’s suddenly nervous to lie. maybe it’s because she has to lie to vanessa. but she’s done that before, too. “he told me recently that i struck him in the first moment he saw me. i do remember how awkward he was when he tried to order a drink.” y/n says and makes a small laugh again, but this time it’s genuine because she knows how awkward bruce, in truth, can get sometimes.

“i don’t care what you say, to me that is romantic,” vanessa replies. y/n shakes her head. the reason why she hates to be lying right now could be that the circumstances of how they met are much better than this made-up story. much more special, “wish i could have been there to see it.” vanessa admits. y/n doesn’t like the light this cover story paints her in, either. rich business man falls for the woman serving him. in her eyes that feels very weird for some reason. maybe it’s her feminist character that finds it weird.

but judging by vanessa’s face, the cover story and y/n’s acting are natural and convincing enough. y/n wishes she could spill the truth to vanessa, because god knows she trusts her, but she can’t tell her the truth. it would jepordise everything. “you would have got second-hand embarrassment, v,” y/n tells her and both women laugh.

“so, what, are you gonna be working for wayne enterprises now?” vanessa clarifies.

“sort of,” y/n answers with a shrug, “you’ll see. but don’t tell anyone else yet. and don’t tell anyone outside of work, ever. they’ll be all over you, and i do want us to make our relationship public, not anyone else.”

“yeah, yeah, you and I both know how tabloids work around here,” vanessa answers, “even though i’d love to tell everyone, i promise you on sebbie’s life that i won’t tell a soul.” she promises y/n on her cat’s life and does a cross over her heart. y/n chuckles at the superstition element. “you’ll have to deal with them a lot, though. i’m sorry for that.”

“yeah, thanks,” y/n replies quietly, taking that vanessa has mentioned the thing she’s most afraid of. she guesses vanessa knows the character assassination women face in gotham if they’re on any tabloid or news banner. y/n is in for a big portion of that—people don’t take too kindly to women who work in the same company for their male partners or spouses. it’ll be even worse for y/n perhaps, because she’ll be getting a job at wayne enterprises because she’s in a relationship with bruce. there’s nothing wrong with it, and it was bruce’s idea. god knows what kind of speculations will spiral out of that fact...

y/n feels bruce’s tongue against her own as he brushes his hands underneath her sweater now, petting her waist gently. the image of his large calloused hands on her bare skin already entices y/n more, her sharply inhaling breath through her nose. it feels difficult to breathe now, her fingers digging into the skin of his face. bruce softly groans at the feeling, and an almost animalistic shiver sends his hands to the back of y/n’s thighs and pulls them closer to his crotch, positioning her legs on either side of his body.

the pair nearly fall over from the impact, but y/n steadies them both with ease that her instincts provide, and they only interrupt their kissing with laughter over their slight clumsiness. she really has me feeling like a teenager, bruce thinks to himself before kissing her once more. they melt into each other so easily you’d think they were two pieces of butter on a hot pan. y/n is just about ready to eat him up, she feels this insatiable urge to touch him and kiss him all over, for as long as she has breath.

and when she’s reaching into his sweatpants and adjusting him up with her entrance, panties slid to the side, it’s almost like they sync up completely. the final transaction, the closest they can get, yet they still want more. they’re messy, panting, giggling, hands trembling as they hold onto each other and y/n rocks her hips on bruce’s length. he thinks this must be heaven – her on top of him, her chest in his face, her hands in his hair. he loves her on top of him, always did when she used to patch him up, clean his face, all those times. now their relationship has been turned around and this intimate position they’ve been in before has gained a different turn, too, one bruce was secretly thinking of beforehand.

“you’re so perfect,” he breathes against her skin, laying hot kisses across her chest, her sweater now pushed up, barely covering anything. y/n gasps at bruce’s lips on her breasts, mewls softly, and feels herself so close to release already. she pulls her sweater off over her head, it being in the way, and lets bruce pull her closer, smothering her chest with kisses, arms around her holding her securely.

“fuck, i’m close, bruce,” she tells him in a heave of breath and bruce nods in response. it might be his familiarity with her body, and it might be her spidey-sense growing on him, but he could tell she was close before she uttered the words herself.

“i know, i’ve got you,” he tells her quietly and keeps his hands supportingly on her back. y/n looks into his eyes, her hand now on his cheek.

“you f-feel so good inside me.” she whines and arches her back, hair messy in the air, complete surrender to her feelings.

bruce feels himself twitch inside of her at the words, and he doesn’t resist the groan coming out from between his lips. he grips one of her thighs in his hand, one palm completely capable of covering it, and sees the bump he’s made in her, completely visible to him. “fuck,” he moans out and takes one of her hands in his, guiding it down to the bump, looking into y/n’s eyes as he does. y/n feels the phenomena there and gives him a tired smile, her cheeks sweaty and shining from it in the half-dark.

“you’re so big, bruce, no wonder,” she compliments him and it makes them both chuckle quietly, though the praise once again goes straight to bruce’s hardness inside of her, “ah, fuck—” she starts to say, but can’t even finish her sentence, whatever it might have been, because her orgasm has taken hold of her and is washing through her entire body like an intense wave. bruce completely succumbs to her, feeling himself unloading inside of her, too, nearly in unison with her milking him in all his length.

he tries to watch her face as she comes, not wanting to miss the sight of it, and he manages through his eyes filled with euphoria to catch the look of her. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks glistening with sweat, breasts on display for him, hair falling over her arched back. that is until she crumbles on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder and her hands gripping the back of the sofa. she pants heavily into his ear as he does the same, both of them grounding themselves back to reality. “you’re incredible, y/n,” bruce tells her and y/n smiles in response.

she easily hops off him and finds her sweater on the floor and puts it on before sitting back down next to him. bruce stuffs himself back into his sweats and runs a hand through his hair. she turns her head to look at bruce and they smile at each other. “you’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him and kisses his lips gently. she circles her arms around his neck and they rest their foreheads together, “i could never get tired of this. physically, i mean. i think my stamina is through the roof,” y/n admits, making bruce chuckle, and she enjoys feeling the rumble of his laughter.

“i’ll try to keep up,” he promises and glances into her eyes, this time he’s made her laugh. with her he comes to realize how much he’s capable of. he can make her laugh, he can make her smile, he can make her blush, he can make her reach ecstasy-level orgasms. all of these are honours he holds dear to his heart, “i could never get tired of you.” he tells her quietly.

“me, neither, of you,” y/n responds, then averts her eyes from bruce’s briefly, “what if i can’t take it? the press, the job? what if i’m not... good enough? classy enough?” she lets her anxieties wonder. it breaks bruce’s heart that she feels this way.

“you’re more than good enough,” he assures her, “the press may want to say horrible things about you, and i know it’s easy to give into hate and... critique, but...” bruce shakes his head, “you’re the amazing spider-woman, without the suit and powers, too.” he makes a smile at her and y/n gives a weak one back. “you’re going to be so great at this, i already know it. and don’t be afraid to ask for help—me and alfred will be supporting you every step of the way.”

y/n sniffles quietly, but gives bruce a nod. she leans against the back of the sofa, letting go of bruce, and his skin misses her touch immediately. she rubs her eyes and sighs. “i’ve wanted to do something like this, be someone who can make a real change, all my life, since i was a little kid,” she tells him, “and everything that happened throughout growing up just made me want to do it more. and now you’ve given me this amazing opportunity to finally do something like it, and it scares me,” she turns her head to look at him again. bruce nods, understanding, and splays an arm over her frame, “i can never thank you enough for doing this for me. i’m really grateful for it. i’m just scared i won’t be any good at it.”

“you will be,” bruce tells her, “i never expected this kind of... role would fall on me. i did know, of course, that i would have to follow in my father’s footsteps, and i was more than happy to, but doing it alone, especially when there’s so much pressure about it, and relentless work, never made me like it.” he shook his head. “i know i still want to help people, i always have, and being batman was my way of doing it, but... you’ve made me realize it’s never going to be enough. yes, i can make people fear me, but there’s always going to be someone not so afraid.” he makes a pause to clear his throat. “you remember that brothel we went to on our first night together?” he asks and y/n nods along. “we’re never gonna stop more of those being made by just... doing what we do on our night shifts. crime and corruption in gotham are like diseases. we gotta do more.” he says and y/n nods again.

“i’m glad you see it now, too,” she tells him and runs a hand through his hair, “we will do more. but i can’t do it without you.” she says and makes a sad smile. bruce holds her moving hand in his and lays a kiss on the top of her palm.

“you won’t,” he promises, “you won’t be alone. i’ll go to every interview, every event, anything with you.” so you won’t be alone, like i was, in this business.

y/n chuckles. “really?”

“yeah, i promise,” bruce says with a smile and that’s what makes her believe him. she nods, “i’ll take care of you.” she presses their intertwined hands against his cheek.

“we’ll take care of each other,” she corrects him, and bruce nods, lips once again on her hand, “thank you for this. and for believing in me.” she makes a smile at him and curls herself closer to bruce. he nods at her. he’ll always believe in her. ever since that first night she took him to her apartment, he has put tremendous faith in her and she has always proved worth it. she has never disappointed him. she’s only ever surprised him and hurt him when she fled the manor that night. but never disappoint him. she should have ‘exceeds expectations’ written in her resume, in her passport.

“always,” bruce says and kisses her lips.

“uh, vanessa,” y/n calls for her attention again, and vanessa turns to her with welcoming eyes, “can you promise me that... you won’t say anything the press want you to say? no matter how much money they’re offering.” she requests shyly, hoping this won’t close vanessa off to her. but her friend-colleague nods.

“of course,” she says, “i would never do that to you, man, come on,” she bumps y/n’s shoulder and they both laugh, “no amount of money could make me want to lie about you.”

“thanks so much. i’d never assume otherwise, you know, just had to make sure.” y/n says timidly and rubs her hands together. “i’ll hand in my resignation tomorrow. a month’s notice.” she tells her and vanessa nods with a smile, though she also sighs sadly.

“only a month with you left,” she says and makes a playful frown. y/n shakes her head, “it’s gonna be weird here without you.”

“i know,” y/n says in an aching voice, “it’s gonna be so strange not working here. but i’ll come here for coffee, i promise you that.”

vanessa smiles. “it’ll always be on the house,” she says and does a salute. it makes them both giggle again, but the bell ringing at the entrance door alerts them of a new customer and their laughter dies down a little.

“that won’t go unnoticed, v,” y/n tells her as she takes her post behind the cash register. vanessa raises an eyebrow at her, “if i’m ever invited to a gala and i can take a plus one, it’s gonna be you.” y/n smiles at vanessa and she nearly bursts at the proposition.

“are you serious? but won’t mr wayne be your plus one?” she makes sure, but y/n shakes her head.

“no, he gets his own invites. we could go as three, and i wouldn’t wanna go with anybody else, anyway,” she admits.

“ah, just imagine – us getting ready together to go a gala! what a dream,” vanessa ties her apron around her waist again and passes y/n to stand behind the coffee machine, “your life’s definitely getting better.”

that statement sort of stops y/n in her tracks. her life is getting better, that’s true, she just hadn’t admitted that to herself yet. probably because she feels she doesn’t deserve it, isn’t worthy of such good circumstances. a great relationship, a job she’s wanted to do since she was a kid, a job in helping countless people in peril, poverty, hunger and everything else that’s eating gotham up from inside. but she doesn’t let herself enjoy it. well, truthfully, it hasn’t happened yet, and she’s already hesitant towards it.

being scared of the job is one thing – how good is she gonna be at it? how will everyone else at wayne enterprises like her? how will the media take her work? how will the people of gotham embrace her? but another thing is feeling like she doesn’t deserve it. she doesn’t come from upper class, she wasn’t born into money like bruce was. she comes from a different universe altogether.

but shouldn’t an advocate for people who can’t defend or support themselves be someone exactly like them? maybe y/n should tell her story to the whole of gotham, about her hardships growing up, about her mother’s hardships – not the whole story in details, but just enough that would make people see that she’s just like them, no different, and wants to help. because she knows how she can help. she knows exactly what these people need because she’s been one of them. who better to protect and vouch for them than someone who comes from the same gutter? that would be a great article headline for the press, y/n thinks.

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#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #battinson smut #battinson #battinson x fem!reader #mask & seek #batman series #the batman fanfic #har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #har-rison-s writes batman #battinson x oc #mask & seek series #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fan fiction

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krizariel · 7 months

Text

Follow up to this post

It’s been a few weeks since then and Tim is almost fully recovered. Soon he will be able to go back home. While Tim wanted to go back to the nest, Alfred had different plans.

“Preposterous Master Drake. You are going back to the mansion where you can be given proper care whilst you continue your recovery. There’s much you’ve lost and you need all the support you can get to get fully back on your feet. No objections.”

“Knowing you, you will want to get back to work right away. I brought you your laptop as a compromise.”

“Thank you Alfie.”

The nurses knocked on the door as it was time for his regular check up. Alfred left the room to let them do their job saying he’d be outside.

“Is your boyfriend not here today?” She asked as she was taking his blood pressure.

“ My who?!”

“Wow careful sweetie. Your heart rate”

Well I’m not the one who asked about my non-existent boyfriend what the hell lady!?

“Dark, tall and handsome? skunk hair? He has been here almost every day for over a year.” She continued.

“At first we thought he was a ghost haha” another nurse chimed in. “Almost every morning, when we'd come clean you up there was a flower, always had enough water. Sometimes we'd see a new flower.”

“You did get multiple visitors at the beginning but later the visits were more spread out and they didn't stay long so we knew when someone had visited. So it was SO strange that you'd always have fresh flowers and sometimes even books by your bed!”

"There was no one here near the end of the day and some nurses were too scared to enter the room in the middle of the night.”

"One time they peeked and one swore they saw a shadow by the corner so they called security. When we came in with a group of guards, no one was in the room. Everything was in place except for a new flower."

Another nurse peeked in. “Y’all talking about the lover ghost?” “The what now?!” Tim said "Yeah, yeah, come in!" Why are they just inviting themselves?! “Listen. Sometimes some nurses were scared to come in during the night but you were always peaceful, nothing out of place. Usually, with patients like you, rooms become silent and more empty as time goes by. It's…common. For visitors to slowly lose hope and being unable to continue visiting often. Each person deals with grief differently.” "But in your case, as months went by, your room was more…lived?" "Later Mr. Wayne let us know if we saw a certain Mr. Peters come in to visit that he was to be included in the list of people allowed to visit you." “We suspect he was our ghost!” A new nurse excitedly added, from behind Tim. WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM!? "What makes you think Mr. Peters is the one that had been visiting me during the time I was in a coma?" "Well, if it's not him, then you had two suitors and one of them was a ghost. I'd go with the first option if I was you." “We haven't seen someone so dedicated so have to admit we were really rooting for you both. We haven't seen him lately though.” an older nurse continued. “Did something happen?” Another one asked. “No just… we are not- “ Tim felt a bit at loss as he was still processing all this information. Alfred, god bless him, made his presence be known at that moment. The head nurse was trailing behind him. “Excuse me ladies. Master Drake requires some rest.” Alfie said as he put his hand on Tim's shoulder, reassuringly. "Everyone please, stop bothering Mr. Drake and chop-chop, there's plenty to do." The head nurse said and then turned to Tim. "As for you Mr. Drake, it looks like everything is looks good. The doctor will see you in a minute to give you some final instructions and to tell you when will be your next check up but looks like you are ready to be discharged." And with that, she left. ----

Once he was finally back at the mansion and settled in his room, he finally gave himself time to think about what the nurses said. He just… it wouldn't leave him alone.

He will have to face Jason again, isn't he?

It didn't take long. And Tim suspects Alfred had a hand in it… "Hey." "Hi." By the way Jason's mouth moved, it looked like he had something to say but kept aborting saying anything. Tim could relate. "Sorry, Alfred wanted me to come to have tea with him this afternoon and was really insistent. I couldn't say no. Good to see you are doing well." "Yeah. Thank you." "Anyway, I'm on my way out so-" "WAIT" Tim grabbed Jason's arm before he could bolt out. He had to ask. "The nurses told me a story… about a ghost." "Uh?" "Yeah. Apparently a rumor started… of a ghost who kept leaving flowers and making noise in my hospital room. Who kept visiting me and keeping me company. They were apparently very charmed." "Oh." "Was it really you?" "I…yeah. Listen I never said anything because I didn't want to look lke a creep. I know it sounds nuts but I might have developed a bit of a crush on you…" "While I was unconscious??" "Let it be known I never said this made any sense." Jason continued "I just wanted to keep you company, to not be forgotten… because I know how it felt to come back and feeling that way. As time went by, I started learning every bit I could. I knew you as red robin but not the real you. I never bothered, and I started to want it really badly." Tim was at loss of words because a part of him wanted to stay upset but he couldn't find it it himself to stay mad in light of all this new information. "It was stupid of me to think that you'd wake up and maybe there could be a chance. But believe me I honestly didn't think it would be that simple. I know I can't take the hurt back but if you'll have me I want nothing more than to make it up to you and give this a try" Tim felt the smile grow in his face. He couldn't help it. It felt like getting closure in the best possible way. Maybe right now he really didn't want to focus on romance but he felt warmth at the thought of having his family around and Jason as well. The fact that Jason thought about him that far… is proof that his affections were never misplaced. "How about we take it slow and just see where it goes. I'd like it if you stick around." Suddenly he felt strong arms around him. Jason was hugging him tightly and just like that Tim couldn't help but feeling genuinely happy. Despite the situation, whatever the future hold didn't seem so bad. "Thank you babybird. I swear I'll make it worth your while." Jason said as he pulled slightly away and held Tim's face tenderly with both hands. "Alright… I could use a spar partner, wanna help a guy?"

"You got it." ----

It's been a few months since then and here they are. Jason usually wakes up first. He almost can't believe he gets to watch him sleep and wake up every day. He will hold on to this for as long as possible. For as long as Tim will have him. "Hey, sleeping beauty." "Hey, handsome." Part 1 Part 2

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #done thank you thank you hands you a potato #tbh the idea of jay staying keeping Tim company #and spooking the nurses #was the whole reason this came to be #the nurses ship them hard #its their telenovela #not fic

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the-himawari · 7 months

Text

A3! Promotion Event Translation - Haunted Western-style House (1/9)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Masumi: (My lectures are over… let’s go home.)

*notification sound*

Masumi: …It’s from Tsumugi.

Tsumugi’s LIME: “Masumi-kun, are you still at school?”

Masumi’s LIME: “I’m here, but I’m about to go home.”

Tsumugi’s LIME: “Hold on. I’m by Fuyou uni’s main gate right now.”

Masumi: …?

Masumi’s LIME: “Why?”

Tsumugi’s LIME: “My part-time job was close to the university.”

Masumi: (Right. Come to think of it, he was telling Director that he had his home tutoring job this afternoon…)

Tsumugi’s LIME: “Let’s head home together”

Masumi’s LIME: “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

-pause-

Tsumugi: The train sure was packed.

Masumi: It was the evening rush hour, after all.

Tsumugi: Ah.

Masumi: ?

Tsumugi: Can I stop by the convenience store over there for a moment? You can head back first, Masumi.

Masumi: I’m not in a rush or anything. I’ll go with you.

Tsumugi: Really? Alright, let’s go then.

-pause-

Tsumugi: Thanks for coming along with me to the convenience store, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Don’t mention it. You even bought me a drink…

Tsumugi: I already said this earlier, but don’t worry about it. That was a thank you for accompanying me.

Masumi: Okay, thanks.

Tsumugi: By the way, have you been in touch with Hatsue-san these days?

Masumi: Only once in a while because of the time difference… And it’s more grandma who calls me.

Tsumugi: I see. That’s wonderful.

Masumi: Yeah… I guess so. Is your grandma doing well?

Tsumugi: She is. I visited home few days ago and she gave me a whole bunch of snacks to bring back as a gift.

Masumi: Right. Those tasted good.

Tsumugi: Fufu. I’ll let my grandma know the next time I go back.

Masumi: Go ahead.

Tsumugi: Is Hatsue-san planning to come back to Japan again this fall?

Masumi: That’s what she said. It looked like she wanted to come visit grandpa’s grave on their wedding anniversary. But she said she might arrive a little later this year.

Tsumugi: I see. So it will still be some time until you can see each other again.

Kazunari: Ah, if it isn’t Massu and Tsumutsumu!

Masumi: …Kazunari.

Tsumugi: Are you also on your way home, Kazu-kun?

Kazunari: Yep. I was doing an assignment at school and it ended up later than I expected.

Tsumugi: Ah, got it. Great work today.

Kazunari: Ooh yeah. Did you two know there’s a western-style house in Veludo City?

Masumi: No idea.

Tsumugi: Ah. I just happened to hear about that from the student I was tutoring today. It’s hardly been used, but they’ve been doing renovation work on it since half a year ago, right?

Kazunari: Yep, that’s right! And apparently, the renos are almost done.

Tsumugi: Wow. I wonder what they’re doing with it.

Kazunari: Nobody knows yet. But rumour has it that it’s gonna transform into Veludo City’s newest date spot!

Masumi: Tell me more about it in detail.

Kazunari: Woah, woah. Chill dude, I said it’s still just a rumour! I’ll be sure to let you know once I get more news on the sitch!

Masumi: …Alright.

Tsumugi: I hope it’s a place you can go on a date just like the rumour says.

Masumi: Yeah.

---

| next

#a3!#a3! translation #usui masumi #act! addict! actors!#haunted western-style house

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magicshopaholic · 8 months

Text

Near Misses

Summary: Five minutes and a near miss each, Jimin and Hoseok help two ladies in their lives set up their apartment.

Pairing: Jimin x OC, Hoseok x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Exes, brother's best friend; humour, banter, flirting

Word count: 4.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, kissing, references to alcohol

A/N: Takes place about three months after New Year's Eve Eve and two months after Kiss and Tell.

Tagging: @bbl32@quarter-life-crisis2@meirkive@faearchives@margopinkerton@dreaming-with-happiness@confessionsofamarshlily@jiminjhang@xjoonchildx@tarahardcore@infinitehobi@handfullofcandids@purpleseoul7

Listen to: "simple song" by the shins

jimin masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

“Think fast!”

Jimin whips around and catches the object just before it hits him.

“What the hell?” He examines the thing in his hand. “Sooah, I could’ve died.”

“Getting hit with a coaster? Try again, Park Jimin.”

Jimin huffs and places the coaster with the rest of the set in its stand and lines it on the coffee table. “You could be a little more grateful for my help, you know?”

Sooah chuckles, not looking up from the cardboard box she’s rummaging through. “Help? You’ve spent the last half hour critiquing every aspect of my living room.”

“Isn’t that helping?”

“Not quite. I like my living room.”

“It’s cluttered.” He gingerly picks up the quilt on the edge of her sofa. “And… mismatched. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No, I think it’s charming.”

“It’s messy.”

“So are you.” She smiles innocently at him.

“Fine, we get it. You like messy things,” he says nonchalantly, grinning and catching a stuffed toy she throws at him. “And you have a lot of crap. Sooah, this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he informs her, holding up the stuffed white cat.

“It has lost a lot of its allure,” she admits. “Fine, I can throw that out. I wouldn’t even know where to keep it.”

Jimin frowns. “Why are you unpacking, anyway? Isn’t Chaeyoung the one moving in?”

“Yeah, but I figured she’ll need some room for her stuff in the living room, too.” Sooah stands up and surveys the small space, hands on her hips. “And it’s a good enough reason to do some spring cleaning after a while. Apparently I have a lot of crap,” she adds.

“Kudos to Chae, then.” Jimin sits on the floor and leans back against the coffee table as Sooah tosses the empty cardboard box to the side. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Taking a shower, I think,” she answers, pulling an entire drawer out of a cabinet and rummaging through it. “She spent most of the morning sweeping and cleaning her room.”

“Are you sure you can do the roommate thing again?” Jimin asks curiously, watching as she holds up two sets of miscellaneous chargers. Her hair is tied back but loose strands of hair have escaped her ponytail. Her cheeks look pleasantly chubby and flushed; in the absence of any make-up, he can almost imagine the tiny, almost invisible smattering of freckles on her cheeks.

“Sure, why not?”

“You’ve lived alone for a while. Speaking from experience, having roommates requires a lot of sacrifice,” he says wisely.

Sooah sighs and looks up at him. “Are you going to complain about Taehyung and Jungkook finishing the last piece of hoppang again? It was three years ago, Jimin. Move on.”

“I said it was mine but they still - no.” He takes a deep breath. “Not again. I just meant that I thought you liked living alone.”

“I don’t hate it,” she agrees, going back to the drawer. “But I don’t hate having to split rent either. Plus, if I’m being honest, it’s been getting a bit lonely here lately,” she admits.

Jimin frowns. “Really?” When she simply shrugs, he bites his lip. “Why haven’t you ever called me when you’re lonely?”

It takes her a moment to meet his eyes but when she does, he’s surprised to see she’s suppressing a smile.

“That’s sweet, but… it’s not the kind of loneliness you’ve helped me out with in the past,” she ventures.

He narrows his eyes. “Wow. I’m just a hot piece of ass to you, aren’t I?”

Sooah laughs. “Your words, not mine.”

“So what kind of loneliness is Chaeyoung going to help you out with?” he demands, standing up and folding his arms across his chest. “What does she have that I don’t?”

“You really want an answer to that question?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “Chae, with her wise words and cute pajamas?”

“Oh, I get it. She’s better at sleepovers. Mixing fruity cocktails and shelling out advice about the horrible men you work with. I’m sure you follow that up with the pillow fights in your underwear.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Chim, but girls don’t actually do that.”

Jimin clutches his chest in mock-agony. “You’re breaking my teenage boy heart.”

“It’s survived worse,” she says nonchalantly, chucking two broken halves of a candle into a trash bag.

“Chaeyoung must be a hell of a roommate if you don’t even get the pillow fights out of it,” he remarks, picking up a stray cushion and hugging it. “Or you must be the super roommate for her to snag the room the day after you decided to rent it out.”

“Actually, I asked her if she wanted to move in - but only because Hoseok asked me to,” she clarifies, shrugging. “He said she probably wanted to but she’d never listen if he suggested it. I kind of get it, though. Her old roommate was shady as hell.”

“Hoseok may have done you a service, then.”

“Oh, definitely. The first thing she did when she came in here was set up an aroma diffuser.” Sooah points to a small earthen pot at the top of the TV cabinet, with white sticks poking out of it. “I was sold.”

“Sounds like the whole package.” He claps his hands. “Guess you don’t need me, then.”

“Guess I don’t.” She flashes him a smile.

Jimin narrows his eyes. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone, you know,” he warns her. “When you have no one to snark with over cookie dough or make you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“You tried that once in all the time we’ve been hanging out since Taehyung’s party, Jimin,” she reminds him. “I have yet to be impressed.”

He nods and bites his lip, knowing she’s referring to more than just a sandwich. She raises an eyebrow expectantly and he chuckles, unwilling to fold.

“Fine. Can I buy you a new sofa? Would that impress you?”

Sooah frowns, visibly taken aback. “A new sofa? No way.”

“This one looks really old,” he says reasonably, going over and examining it briefly. “There’s a cigarette burn here and… is this a coffee stain?” He straightens up and tilts his head. “Don’t you sleep on this?”

“Hey, it’s a really old sofa, okay?” she replies, a little defensively. “I got it second hand because inflation hit rent pretty hard that year, so just… back off,” she adds.

Jimin raises his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise. Just… can’t I gift you one? Friends do that.”

“Friends,” she repeats.

“Isn’t that what we are?”

To Jimin’s relief, her mouth twitches just a little as she rolls her eyes. “Friends don’t gift each other things like furniture,” she informs him, passing him by to gather some stray tape and bubble wrap on the floor. “Save that kind of stuff to spoil your girlfriend with.”

He sighs hugely. “If only she’d do something about it, I would.”

Sooah scoffs as she starts to walk back, stopping slowly when he grabs her hand and tugs her a little closer, the other hand in his pocket.

“Think of what you’d get out of it,” he insists, lowering his voice in an attempt to sound more persuasive.

She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. “A free sofa?”

“A free sofa, ice cream at your beck and call, and parties with a lot of expensive liquor.”

“A compelling argument.”

“Is it working?”

“Not as well as you’d like,” she quips, playfully punching him in the solar plexus and slipping away when he groans. “In fact, why don’t you make yourself useful?” she continues, nudging a dusty machine at the edge of the carpet. “I dragged this out of the storage closet and almost pulled a muscle while doing it; could you help me put it back in?”

“What is it?” he asks, frowning and going over to take a closer look.

“Vacuum cleaner,” she supplies. “I bought it after four homemade margaritas.”

“So, that’s, like… ten regular margaritas?”

“Exactly.”

“So you called me over just to do all your heavy lifting?” Jimin places a hand on his hip, affronted.

Sooah frowns, a little incredulously. “Are you kidding? I didn’t even call you - you just showed up.”

“Yeah, but with beer. You know what? Fine, I’ll help.” He stretches his arms and cricks his neck for effect before bending and picking up the vacuum cleaner. “Storage closet, you said?”

Sooah beckons him to follow her and leads him to a small opening between both the bedrooms. Opening the closet door, she reaches up and taps the top shelf. “Right there.”

“Got it.” Taking care to flex his triceps, he raises the vacuum cleaner over his head, ready to place it in when she stops him.

“Wait! Um -” She slides in between him and the closet and moves some stuff to the side. “Here. You have more room now,” she says, turning around but not stepping away.

“Mhm.” Jimin doesn’t even bother suppressing his grin and heaves the vacuum cleaner into the appointed space. He grunts softly as he pushes it and tucks it in, feeling his t-shirt ride up his abdomen and cool air on his bare skin. He bravely leans forward slightly, just so her nose brushes momentarily against his collarbone, before stepping back down.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s good,” she answers, without turning around to look. Her freckles, few and far and almost the same shade as her skin, are slightly more visible now, peppered over the bridge of her nose. “I mean, it’s… fine.”

Jimin nods and places a hand behind her on one of the shelves, just above her ear. “Anything else I can do?”

She brushes some dust off the front of his t-shirt. “Stick around. I’m sure I’ll find something for you to do.”

“Aren’t you glad you called me over?”

“Again,” she says, folding her arms across her chest, “you invited yourself over. Haven’t you learnt that it’s rude to show up without calling?”

“I’ve been doing that pretty much every day since New Year’s. And you never seemed to have a problem with it,” he points out. He pinches her cheek affectionately. “Even the days I showed up empty-handed.”

She nudges his hand away but loosely locks her fingers with his, bringing both their hands now. “And yet, you still haven’t told me what it is you really want.”

Jimin sighs. “Sooah, you know what I want. What I think we both want. Why do I have to be the one to say it?” he whines.

Sooah give him a look. “Because you broke up with me.”

A beat passes and Jimin deflates. “Fine. Here goes.” He looks at the floor and then surreptitiously up at her, only to see a mildly interested expression on her face.

“Kim Sooah,” he begins, bringing his face closer to hers and knowing he isn’t imagining the slight hitch in her breathing. “Kim Sooah, I…”

Another beat; Jimin’s stomach twisting in anticipation, Sooah’s eyes wide with cautious hope. Without meaning to, their noses graze, just when the doorbell rings.

Sooah flinches while Jimin closes his eyes, partly frustrated and partly relieved.

“... will get the door.”

A little regretfully, he steps away from her and heads towards the living room, hearing the closet door loudly slam shut behind him. He opens the door to see Hoseok cradling a potted plant.

“Hyung?” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I - I came to see Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung’s apartment, I mean,” he amends, holding up the plant as though to support his answer.

“Hey, Hoseok, come in.” Sooah appears from behind Jimin. “Chae didn’t tell me she’d called you over.”

“Oh, no, she didn’t,” he says immediately, shuffling inside and slipping his shoes off. “I thought I’d just pop by… see if she needed any help unpacking.”

“Huh.” She turns to Jimin. “So this is where you learnt it from. She’s in her room, probably already started,” she tells Hoseok, ignoring Jimin’s roll of the eyes. “It’s the one with the dreamcatcher hanging on the doorknob.”

Hosoek half-grins and waves to them, making his way to the aforementioned room. He’s about to knock when he sees the door swing open slightly, and he frowns. He knocks softly anyway but upon hearing no response, pushes the door open a little more.

“Hey, Chae, are you - oh, shit!”

He immediately whips around in horror, almost giving himself whiplash, while Chaeyoung scrambles to cover her torso with something.

“Hoseok?” Chaeyoung exhales in relief. “God, oppa - can’t you knock?”

“I did knock!” he cries, back still to her. “You didn’t answer! And the door was open!”

“Oh. Sorry. I was wearing earphones.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes so hard he feels like his eyeballs could fall off. “Great job, Chae,” he says sarcastically. There’s the sound of clothes moving behind him but he still doesn’t turn around, the image burned into his retinas of her long hair down her bare back, her long and narrow waist, her pelvic bones peeking out from above her joggers… He squeezes his eyes shut, willing it to go away.

“Uh, you can turn around now.”

“I’m fine right here, actually.”

“I’m fully clothed now. God,” she exclaims, and he can almost hear her rolling her eyes.

Gingerly, opening his eyes a millimetre at a time, he turns around. He doesn’t leave anything to chance, though, placing his free hand over his eyes anyway.

“Here,” he says vaguely, extending the other arm with the plant blindly towards her. He feels her slap his hand softly and finally uncovers his eyes with a huff, relieved to see her in a full sleeved white top, a black tank top visible through the thin material.

“You’re not going to turn into stone if you accidentally see me without my shirt off, you know?” she snaps.

“I didn’t think - that’s not -” He takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose. “Here,” he repeats, handing her the plant again. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Chaeyoung’s expression freezes in the mildly irritated one from a moment ago before her muscles relax and her eyes widen in earnest. “Oh. That’s…” She takes the plant from him. “Wow. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hoseok shrugs noncommittally. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She opens the door wider and steps aside. “Thank you for the plant, by the way. It’s really nice of you.”

“No problem.” He glances around the room, feeling distinctly like he’s stepped into a portal to the past. It’s not exactly like the room she had at her parents’ house, but something about the purple and white bed covers, the tall lamp with half a dozen colourful scarves tied around the neck and the smell of fruity moisturiser feels so very Chaeyoung that he isn’t even sure he’s allowed to be here.

“So?” she asks, holding the plant with both hands and in front of her abdomen. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

“Really? No opinions on which wall the bed should face or the hazards of a scented candle on a wooden desk?” she asks sceptically.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows and glances at the desk to see a white candle perched on the top shelf of her desk and chuckles. “No. I think I trust you not to burn down your desk.”

“Huh. Who are you and what have you done with my… brother’s best friend and his extreme lack of faith in me?”

“I’d almost be offended but it kind of brings me to why I’m here.” He slips his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and rocks on the balls of his feet. “I… wanted to apologise. Sort of. I know I’ve been treating you like a bit of a kid and I just wanted to say… well, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Chaeyoung nods thoughtfully. “In the last ten years? Well… maybe some, not a lot.” She shrugs sarcastically before smiling a little as though to let him know she’s just teasing. “Oppa, is this about the party at my dad’s house? Or… what we talked about that night?”

Hoseok sighs and nods, taking a seat on the chair at her desk and facing her. “Kind of. I expected a certain reaction from you but the one you actually had was… pretty mature.” He says the word a bit disbelievingly. “You’ve grown up, Chae. I guess it just took me a while to see that.”

She seems to be a bit taken aback by this confession and is - Hoseok observes in satisfaction - momentarily speechless. “Oh. Well, I - thank you,” she stutters.

“Yeah.”

“And also for the… plant.”

“You got it.”

Chaeyoung nods awkwardly and places the white ceramic pot on her bed, balancing it carefully on the quilt before straightening up. He can tell she’s thrown by his sudden admittance and is a bit awkward; she avoids his gaze and ties her long hair into a ponytail, her bangs still damp from her shower. The movement makes her shirt ride up slightly and he catches a glimpse of her pelvic bones again and immediately looks away, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Um -” He swallows and bites his lip. “I also wanted to check… you didn’t happen to mention any of that to your brother, did you?”

It’s like a switch has been turned on - or turned off. Chaeyoung’s shoulders fall and the delicate awkwardness he realises he was actually endeared by disappears, only to be replaced by an annoyance he’s much more familiar with.

“Is that what you’re really for? You know, this could’ve been a text, Hoseok,” she states sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? No,” he says honestly. “I came here to see - to give you that,” he clarifies, pointing at the plant. “I just wanted to check, okay? He’s my best friend and you’re his -”

“Do you really think Chanyeol will even care?”

“Oh, believe me, he’ll care.”

“Really? Would you be this anal about it if Jiwoo unnie dated him?”

Hoseok almost gags. “Okay, that’s disgusting. And you know what? You’re being all self-righteous about this,” he points out, turning it around on her. “Would you be okay if, like… Sooah suddenly started dating Chan?”

“Um, yes?” she answers, like it’s extremely obvious. “It’s none of my business? They’re adults!”

He stares at her incredulously before shaking his head. “Fine, maybe it’s different for sisters. Younger sisters, especially, but… you don’t get it, okay? You’re Chan’s sister and I can’t -”

“Oh, my God, is that all you think of me?” she interrupts fiercely. “Has it ever occurred to you that I have an identity outside of Chan’s sister? That not everything is about him?”

“I know you’re -”

“You come over here and give me this spiel about how I’ve grown up and everything but it doesn’t matter because I’ll always be your best friend’s little sister!” She shrugs in frustration. “You know why I don’t think Chanyeol will care? It’s because he - get this - knows I’m a person separate from him.”

“Chae,” says Hoseok, a little sternly now because why doesn’t she get it? “I hear you, okay? I know you are your own person, but Chan has been my best friend my entire life,” he explains clearly, joining his hands and punctuating every word with a movement. “So for my entire life, for better or for worse, you were just Chan’s sister.”

“I’m not -”

“And I would love to get to know you better and I want to hang out with you more, but you will always also be Chan’s sister, which makes you the one girl on the planet I cannot mess with.” He exhales, panting a little. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just… how it is.”

Chaeyoung’s gaze is trained away from him, somewhere around her bed, her jaw set and brows furrowed. “Fine,” she says eventually, shrugging. “Whatever. I didn’t tell him anything. It’s not newsworthy or anything, you know?”

Hoseok says nothing, already regretting his outburst a bit. For the first time in his life, he wishes she wasn’t just Chanyeol’s sister. He wonders briefly what it would’ve been like if he’d been nicer to her when they were kids, if she hadn’t made her schoolgirl crush so obvious, if he’d cared less about what his classmates thought.

But they’d been four years apart; at that age, four years felt like a gulf. Right now, it feels only vaguely far away, like walking distance, enough to take her by the hand and guide her if she encounters a pothole.

Hoseok stands up and walks over to her. She still doesn’t look at him, not even when he nudges her shoulder.

“Come on, don’t be mad,” he says softly.

“I’m not mad.”

Hesitating only for a fraction of a second, he reaches over and wraps his arms around her shoulders in a hug. “You’re kind of cute when you’re mad,” he says, a little teasingly.

For a moment he’s afraid he’s misread the situation completely, but then she begrudgingly hugs him back, her slender arms going around his waist. “Don’t lie,” she grumbles, resting her chin against her shoulder.

He chuckles softly and rubs her back, his chest feeling instantly lighter. They separate and he’s glad to see she looks at least slightly more appeased, if a little ruffled.

“You should put that somewhere,” he advises her, pointing to the plant. “You’ll spill soil on your bed.”

“Okay, dad,” she mutters, but picks it up anyway. “I’ll put it on my desk - it’s directly in the sunlight,” she adds, gesturing to the spot next to the candle. “By the way, nice work on subtly reminding me we’re nothing but platonic.”

Hoseok almost chokes. “What? I did no such thing.”

“You kind of did,” she disagrees, about the place the pot on the desk. “Could you move those papers out of the way, please?”

“Don’t twist my words around,” he tells her, reaching over from behind her and clearing the space on the top shelf of the desk. “This was about your brother. And my life.”

“I don’t even know why you’re so bothered,” she continues, apparently not even listening to him. “It’s not like we made out. It was actually a pretty platonic kiss, ironically,” she says matter-of-factly, neatly placing the pot on the desk.

Hoseok frowns. “I wouldn’t say it was platonic.”

“Not platonic like kissing a friend, sure, but it wasn’t as scandalous as you think,” she says serenely, stepping back to admire the plant in the gentle rays of sunlight streaming in. “Looks good, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by platonic?” he repeats. “It was… we -” He trails off, not sure what the word is. “It… lingered.”

Chaeyoung frowns slightly and turns to him. There is now less than a foot between them when she places one hand on her hip. “Kind of. I mean, we didn’t… you know…” She shrugs slowly, and he can see her cheeks pinking up slightly, “... French. Our lips… touched. That’s all.”

Without warning, Hoseok’s gaze falls to her lips. He averts it, but it takes him a second longer to do so. “It was a little more than that,” he argues weakly.

She says nothing, but something in her eye seems knowing. A ray of sunlight falls on her, making the flyaway strands of her dark brown hair appear almost auburn. A light breeze ruffles the collar of her shirt, baring her collarbone and his mind zooms back to his arrival and the unintentional glimpse he’d caught that seems unlikely to ever leave his memory. How her eyes went wide when she turned her head around in surprise; how the rest of her body, despite mostly facing away from him, still revealed a shape he’d never considered in relation to her; how she’d covered up her breasts in record time with her shirt but the shape of her collarbones slanting down towards her chest was empty as ever.

This is Chan’s sister. But the voice in his head sounds like it’s underwater and drowning, barely audible.

“You were pretty drunk that night, oppa,” she reminds him in a murmur, and Hoseok’s stomach flips. “Do you think you need a recap of what really happened?”

It occurs to Hoseok very vaguely that his mind is absolutely blank, for no response comes to him. Chaeyoung’s mouth twists infinitesimally upwards when a sound like a gunshot makes them spring apart.

They look to see Jimin at the door, his knuckles against the wood. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s imagining the slight smirk on his face. “We’re ordering lunch. Do you guys want anything?”

“Jajjangmyeon,” pipes up Chaeyoung, while Hoseok tries to slow his pulse.

“Um - bulgogi.”

“Cool.” Flashing them an unnecessarily wide grin, Jimin saunters away, leaving the door wide open.

For a few seconds, neither of them speaks. Hoseok is too afraid to look at Chaeyoung, and even more afraid at the road his thoughts were going down when Jimin scared them half to death.

“So, um…” He clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her. “You were, uh… unpacking?”

“Yeah,” she says immediately. “I was going to do the - the books next. Or the accessories,” she stutters, pointing to the remaining boxes under her desk.

“I got the books,” he says, reaching down and dragging the box out. “They go in the…”

“Bookshelf.”

“Right. And the accessories are…”

“In the closet,” she answers immediately, “all the way on the other side of the room.”

“Perfect.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#hoseok x oc #hoseok fanfic #jimin x fanfic #jimin x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #bangtanoasis #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts jhope fanfic #bts jimin fanfic

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profound-imagination · 2 years

Text

Dear Azriel - Part 2

A/N - So many of you asked for this and it makes me so happy! I hope you enjoy!!

T/W - talks of injury and blood.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Azriel,

Feyre and Rhys were right to send me away. I don't belong in that world, I don't belong in your world.

I wish it could be different, with all my heart. I wish I could show you the love you deserve and hold your beautiful hands as you let go of the past but I can't, I can't be that person for you, it would be selfish of me. You're over 500 years old and I won't even see 100. I'd get an entire lifetime with you, but you wouldn't get one with me.

Life can be so cruel sometimes but you know that more than anyone. Forgive your brother, forgive Feyre, they did what they did to protect us both.

You will have my heart until it beats it's last beat, please know that.

Y/N.

You flinched as Azriel read your words back to you, you hadn't written them with the intention of being cruel or hurting the Shadowsinger in front of you but his tone, the look in his mesmerising eyes had told you that you had done just that.

"What the hell is this?" He asked again "You don't belong in my world? Of course you do!" He stalked further into your living room and sat as best he could on the human sized sofa and put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

You knelt in front of him "You know they're right Az, deep down you know it, you need to talk to them again, Rhys is your brother" he said nothing "I never meant to hurt you, but Cassian said-" his head shot up "Cassian's an idiot" you couldn't hold back the small laugh that came out of you "Well, yes, but he was right, my lifespan would go by in the blink of an eye to you, I'd grow old on my own, how could I do that to you? I see you, Azriel, I see you watch your brother's with their mates and I can see how badly you want that, the bond that comes with it, I can't give that to you"

He was tense, more so than you had ever seen him. "You want to know how I know you belong in my world?" He finally spoke and you nodded dumbly "Because from the moment I met you, I started rebuilding it around you." All of the air in your lungs left at once as the weight of his confession washed over you "I was ready to cover the world in shadows when I couldn't find you after the war and when I did, the state you were in" he cut himself of, the pain of the memory flashing in his eyes.

"But Elain-" he cut you off "Elain realised what I felt before I did, Elain has been trying to help me gain the courage to tell you, Elain saw us on Starfall and I couldn't lie to her about it, she's a seer, Elain seems to be the only person who supports my feelings for you" he ran a hand through his hair and you wanted to reach out and feel the strands, you wanted to find out if they were as soft as they looked.

You wanted him so badly, the life you'd envisioned while almost dying on that battlefield but you knew the hurt it would cause him in the long run. Scrambling to find words that weren't coming, you just gazed at him and took his hands in your own. The two of you sat there for what felt like an age, just looking at each other. "Have you forgiven them? Feyre and Rhys" he asked "No" you breathed out "But I understand why they did it."

"I'm very glad you understand Y/N, it seems my brother is having trouble with that." Rhys. He must've winnowed in. Azriel stiffened, his hands tightening their grip on your own. "Azriel, I told you not to come here" he spoke to his brother who in turn said nothing "Come on Az, say something, get angry, fight me, anything but this childish silence" you knew what the High Lord was doing, knew he was trying to get any reaction out of Azriel that he could, it wasn't good for anyone when Azriel was this tense and angry and if meant letting the Spymaster beat the shit out of him then Rhysand would do that, as long as he stopped brooding. Rhys spoke again "Wow, I haven't seen you this ice cold since Cassian slept with Mor" you winced, that was a low blow but Azriel finally spoke voice like death "Not here, this is her home" Rhys nodded "Tell me a time and a place brother" and whatever was decided was done so between the two of them in their minds as they were gone before you could even ask.

You stayed up all night waiting for Azriel to come back, or for Rhys to show up and tell you that you'd never see him again, that he'd pulled rank and forbade it but neither happened. You spent the following days watching out the window having dragged your chair over so you had a clear vision for when he came back. He didn't.

You'd started to lose hope when Cassian had shown up for his monthly check in, he hadn't even made it to the door when you came flying out of it, towards him "What happened? Did they kill each other" Cassian let out a rich laugh "No little human, they didn't, Rhys continued to bait Az until he snapped, it was hours before they stopped fighting both bruised and bloody but fine" you cringed. Cassian's eyes softened as he looked down at you "He's fine Y/N, as fine as he can be" you nodded.

"Is he forbidden from coming back here?" Cassian shook his head "Not forbidden but it has been made clear to him that there will be repercussions if he does" tears welled in your eyes as you threw yourself at Cassian "I miss him" you sobbed into his shoulder "I wish I wasn't human, I wish I was like you, I wish I could give him everything, Cass" his large hand stroking the back of your hair "I know that and so does he, but Az, he loves so deeply that he would let it consume him until your life was done and then he'd let it destroy him, he wouldn't come back from it Y/N, it would end him as well" you knew that.

"Do you think I'll ever see him again?" You asked Cassian over tea, you couldn't help but laugh at the giant Illyrian perched as best he could on one of your kitchen chairs, tiny little human sized teacup in between his fingers. "Yes, I think he'll fight it for a while but I don't think he'll be able to stay away" he took a sip of his tea "Have you actually left the house since I bought you here?" You shook your head "No" he rolled his eyes "Maybe try? Stop moping around here" you nodded "I could go and visit Lucien, Vassa and Jurian?" You suggested, Cassian simply nodded at you in agreement.

If you could curse Cassian you would've, the manor that Lucien and his friends resided in was not as close as he'd lead you to believe and it was getting dark. The forest you were traipsing through did nothing to help the quickly fading sunlight and the creature that resided here had started to wake up and come to life, you tensed as you heard a howl in the distance and several howls in response. Just as you were debating on whether it would be quicker to carry on or turn around and go home you caught several pairs of eyes shining through the trees and bushes, you were in deep trouble and you knew it as the wolves that had been watching you for you weren't sure how long started prowling towards you.

Did you freeze or did you run? That is all that was running through your mind for the few seconds you'd given yourself to consider your options, you couldn't out run them. Help me. You thought desperately Azriel, help me, help me, help me. You knew he couldn't, knew that he would have no idea where you were or what you were doing. Panic started to settle in your veins as you turned and ran, not daring to look back, the sound of snapping jaws was enough to keep you moving.

You felt like you'd had an entire building dropped on you as you were ripped from your feet, trapped under a wolf, paws on your shoulders, teeth snapping in your face. Pain erupted through you as claws sunk into your shoulders and you couldn't hold in the scream that came out of your throat or the tears that tumbled out of your eyes. It's breath was rancid and you wanted to vomit. Praying to any gods that would listen to spare you, swearing you'd never leave your cottage again.

More pain swept through you as the wolf was thrown from you, it's claws dragging along your arm and chest as it was thrown to your left. Looking to your right you saw a flash of auburn hair. Lucien. As he moved swiftly, scaring off the rest of the pack who must've figured he was the bigger threat. As gently as he could he gathered you in his arms and ran towards your home. "Shit, that's a lot of blood" he mumbled to himself more than you, numb from the pain you said nothing.

By the time he had gotten you back to your home, you were barely holding onto consciousness as you heard Lucien converse with someone, quickly and quietly but you knew, from the moment the other person had touched you who was there. Azriel. You would've known the feel of his hands anywhere and the cool, calming sensations of the shadows that obeyed him. You were in his arms now, head between his shoulder and jaw as darkness wrapped around you both, he was winnowing, you realised just before you passed out.

You awoke in an unfamiliar room, the bed was huge and cosy and the you felt the pain, you winced as you had tried to sit up "Here, let me help you" a kind and gentle voice spoke from the doorway, one you didn't recognise. You took in the older woman as she came into your line of sight, she was beautiful and have you a warm smile as she gently helped you sit up, piling pillows behind you to keep you as comfortable as possible, you stared into her eyes, eyes you would've known anywhere as she spoke again "So, you're the human girl that my son refuses to let go of" her tone was teasing but it has a protective edge to it, she was his mother, Azriel's mother. He'd bought you here, to her estate that he'd bought her.

You'd spent the afternoon talking with her, you had been here for three days, Azriel would be back this evening having been summoned by Rhysand and that she had ordered him out the door as he was insistent on staying by your side. She was sweet and kind and you could see how much she adored her son, your heart cracked at the thought of them being separated how they were. By the time Azriel had returned she was sitting on your bed with you, sharing stories like old friends and drinking tea. You caught Azriel smiling gently at the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, you beamed at him, his mother in turn beamed at you and excused herself stating that she was going to make dinner for the three of you.

Azriel took her place beside you, careful not to knock you with his wing as he spoke "I think she likes you" you smiled back at him "I like her, although, shredded to bits and covered in three days worth of sleep is not how I'd planned to meet her" his eyes were shining as he said "You'd thought about that?" Heat crept up to your cheeks as you said "I think about a lot of things" he smiled again and you decided then that you would give all you had for him to always have that smile on his face "How's the pain?" He said, eyes glancing at the banges that were across your shoulder and chest. More heat crawled up your neck to your cheeks as you realised that the bandages were all that was covering your top half. "It's okay, I'd like a bath before dinner though" without a word he stood and walked across the room to the adjoining one where he disappeared from view, you heard the sound of running water and moments later he was back next to you, scooping you in his arms and heading towards the running bath.

He placed you standing on the cold floor by the sunken tub and told you to strip off the clothing you had on which was only a loose pair of sleep pants. Your eyes widened at his request but his stare told you not to question it as he turned to give you privacy to do so, you tried, you really did try to get them off by yourself but you couldn't do it with your bandages and you sighed "I can't do it by myself" you admitted sheepishly, you watched his wings twitch every so slightly along with the muscles in his back as he turned back to face you, a small smirk on his face. He walked over to you and took his place behind you so your back would've been pressed against his chest if you were brave enough to take one step backwards.

His hands swept over your hips once and then his fingers curled round the waistband of your sleep pants and the lacy underwear you had on underneath and you gasped ever so quietly as he pulled them down your legs in one swift motion, tapping your thigh to tell you to step out of them. Heat flooded you this time and you prayed he couldn't tell how much that had aroused you. His leathers joined your clothes on the floor as you tensed, knowing he was stood behind you in nothing. You didn't dare look at him.

"What are you doing?" Voice not as strong as you wanted it to be, he didn't answer, instead he stepped in the bath and sat down, you looked at him now, his chest, his tattoos, little scars covered him like a dot to dot and you swore to yourself you would count them all one day. "Are you going to join me or are you just going to stare" he teased as more heat flooded through you. Done for, you were absolutely done for. You knew he wouldn't have you there in the bath, not yet, not while you were hurt but the sight of him and the domesticity of it nearly killed you, stepping into the tub you were rather pleased with your new found bravery and you took a seat opposite him, he shook his head and took you by the wrist gently and pulled you so you were sat in between his legs. "We need to clean your wounds" he told you gently as you felt his fingers ghost up your back and the bandages around your chest and shoulders started to loosen.

#azriel x reader #azriel #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #acowar #acosf #acomaf #acotar #acofas

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dandylovesturtles · 10 months

Text

100 Feet and a World Away is up against New Phone Who Dis in the tmnt separated AU comp and while the poll is a ways away I had this idea and I wanted to write it.

@callmehere-iwillappear I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your kids and I hope you like this!

(“Dandy, where is April?” SHE’S AROUND. Just not here. There were already so many people in this conversation, she’s letting the kids bond okay don’t worry about it.)

———

“And then we all ended up here!” sang the other Mikey, entirely too chipper for the story he had just finished telling, about how the other group of turtles, their opponents for the next round, had been kidnapped ten years ago and raised in captivity. Raph tries not to choke on her ice cream.

After being introduced they’d decided to get ice cream - something the other four had never had before, for reasons that had just been thoroughly explained. The four of them seemed confused by the idea of sitting at a table, so they’re sitting in a group on the floor instead, the three almost mirror images of her friends (her siblings? that is still boggling her mind) leaning against the other Raphael. He’s laying on his stomach, lazily licking from his own bowl with a contented churr deep in his throat.

(It reminds her of how she gets sometimes, when she’s alone, and it makes her sad and unnerved in equal measure.)

“Uh, wow,” says Leon, the first one on their side to react. “That’s quite a story.”

“Mikey makes it sound better than it was,” says the other Leo, with the same humor in his voice that Leon has. He’s the only one who isn’t eating his ice cream, and Raph wonders if he doesn’t like it.

“I wanna hear about you guys, though,” says the other Mikey, bouncing in place. “Where do you live? Who raised you?”

Mike and Othello (Donnie) are still recovering, so again, Leon takes the lead. “Well, we were all raised separately, but I was raised by my dads.”

“Dads!?” gasps the other Mikey, emphasis on the S. “You have more than one!?”

“Yep!” Leon sounds proud about it. “Two whole dads.”

“Woooow… two whole dads,” says the other Mikey with awe. He sounds a little jealous. Maybe Raph is a little jealous, too.

“Why do you need two fathers?” asks the other Donnie, eyes wide like he’s trying to study Leon. So far, he seems the most different from Othello-Donnie (other than her silent double). “Only one male parent is required for reproduction.”

Raph feels the defensive energy roll off Leon before he says anything. “Okay first off, don’t be homophobic.”

The other Donnie stares blankly at him, clearly confused by the sudden snippiness. The other Leo and Mikey look equally confused.

Raph very lightly nudges Leon, and he jolts, pressing his hands to his face.

“…That was a genuine question, wasn’t it?”

Othello snorts. “Did you just call the guy who grew up in a lab homophobic?”

“Shut up! I wasn’t thinking!”

“He’s adopted,” says Mike helpfully. “And his dads are in looove.”

“True, but also, eugh,” says Leon

“Awww, that’s so nice!” says other Mikey. Raph notices he’s finished his ice cream, and completely licked the bowl clean. It’s all over his lips and cheeks, which makes Raph laugh silently to herself.

“Right!?” Mike starts getting excited too - they’re playing off each other’s energies now. “You know, I think my dad should get back in the dating scene, but he always says he’s too busy planning to destroy- er,” Mike glances at the rest of them, then says, “he’s, uh, always busy with work so he can’t.” They trail off with an awkward laugh.

The other Mikey, seeing nothing amiss, starts peppering them with questions, and while he’s doing that, the other Leo quietly swaps his full ice cream bowl for Mikey’s empty one. Ah, so that was the plan.

It’s sweet, but Raph can’t stop herself from speaking up. “You should eat your own ice cream.”

Leo jumps, clearly not expecting to be called out. “Uh, I’m not hungry, so Mikey can have it,” he says.

“Well, you guys haven’t had a lot of sweets, right? Eating too much sugar at once can make you sick.”

She says it to encourage Leo to eat his own, and also because she genuinely doesn’t want this other Mikey to get a stomachache his first time eating ice cream, but the horrified look on Leo’s face makes her feel bad. He snatches the ice cream back, looking at it like it’s poison.

“I wasn’t trying to make him sick,” he says softly.

“Uh, Raph knows you weren’t,” she says quickly, holding up her hands. “It’s not a big deal.”

Still, he looks upset, which is making Mikey upset, which is making the other Raph shuffle behind them with agitation. This isn’t what she meant to happen at all.

It’s Leon who smoothes things over. He’s good at that.

“Geez, Red,” he says, nudging Raph with his shoulder. “You’re the same in real life as you are online, huh?”

She gives him a side-eye. “What do you mean?”

Leon smirks. “A mother hen.”

This makes both Othello and Mike laugh, and the awkward air over the other boys lessens. She just rolls her eyes at Leon but lets it go.

“What’s a mother hen?” asks the other Mikey.

Leon is all too happy to explain. “Means he’s always trying to take care of us. She’s like this online too.”

“Oh,” says Mikey. “Well, why not?” He leans back and bumps his own Raph, who rumbles contentedly. “Raph’s the best big brother ever! It’s the same for you guys, right?”

And that hits her.

Big brother? Is that what she is?

Well, she is the oldest. And the biggest. And if Leon, Mike, and Othello are her siblings, then…

She glances at her friends. None of them are meeting her eyes, and she feels as bashful about it as they look.

They haven’t really talked about it yet. Haven’t put a name to it. But… it’d be nice, she thinks.

Before any of them can think of anything to say, the other Donnie, who seems incapable of reading the mood of any conversation, speaks up first. “I think One should eat ice cream until he can’t. It could be valuable data.”

“Oh, yeah!” cheers Mike, clearly happy with this turn. “Let’s eat ice cream ‘til we puke!”

“Yeah!” cheers Mikey in agreement. “‘Til we puke!”

Mike holds up their hand and Mikey, who only recently learned what a high five is, eagerly returns it.

“No!” snaps Othello, holding out his arms. “If anyone in this group throws up I’m leaving and not coming back!”

“Oh well now we gotta do it,” says Leon, and the conversation erupts once again.

Raph sits back from it all, watching her other self snooze, his brothers tucked against his side, and she wonders if she’ll ever feel like big brother for real.

#100 feet and a world away #new phone who dis #fanfic #rottmnt #tmnt separated au comp

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