#they’re space boyfriends shut up
literally everyone: loki is a war criminal and he’s messed with the sacred timeline
mobius: i can fix him <3
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Shut Up, Dorks
ship: abed x ben (self insert) & platonic jeff x ben
plot: the study group teases jeff for both insulting & complimenting ben & abed
content warnings: none! :)
As the school bell rang, Study Room F’s usual occupants began trickling in one after another. Shirley arrived first, with Annie & Troy closely following behind. Only a few moments later, Britta walked in and casually tossed her bag under the table.
Jeff, per usual, was a few minutes late; what was unusual was the fact that Ben & Abed were also late for today’s study session.
“Where’s Ben and Abed?” Asked Annie, wiggling in her seat for a moment as a look of concern draped across her face. “Ben’s usually here first since he parks so close to the library…”
Jeff looked up from his phone for a moment to glance at Ben & Abed’s empty seats, then at Annie. “I dunno. Why do you know where Ben parks?”
“Well, he told me it was because he hated having to walk around the school so much. He made a deal with the Dean to have a staff’s parking space right by the library entrance.” Annie said with a hint of annoyance in her tone. Jeff raised his eyebrows and looked back to his cellphone. “Smart. I’ll have to ask him how he pulled that one off.”
Annie rolled her eyes at her friend's laziness, then turned her attention to Troy. “Could you text them? I’m worried, they’re usually not late at all.”
Troy nodded and started rustling through his unorganized backpack, but before he could find his phone, both of the missing boys walked in hand-in-hand.
“Oh! You’re finally here!” Shirley said in her sing-song voice, a toothy smile on her face. “Where were you two?”
“Sorry we’re late.” Said Ben, sitting in his usual spot next to Jeff. Abed continued for him; “We were on a lunch date and lost track of time.”
Jeff scoffed, not looking away from his cellphone as he spoke. “A date, huh? Does staying inside with the blinds shut and playing video games for hours on end qualify as a date now?”
Abed furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, looking at Jeff curiously, then at Ben. “No, but that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Ben?” He pointed at his boyfriend.
He nodded with a smile. “Let’s do it after school.” Jeff groaned as Abed pumped his fist in excitement for a moment. Britta smirked, rolling her eyes before scolding Jeff;
“Jeez, Debby Downer, you just can’t let them be happy, can you?” The rest of the study group murmured in agreement with head nods and quiet comments. Jeff did not like this response.
“Wh— Really?? I don’t hate their relationship, they’re practically made for each other. What I’m saying is that they’re a couple of dorks who need to go outside and touch some grass.”
Britta’s face immediately started to beam. “You said they’re made for each other! Pretty romantic for Mr. ‘I don’t believe in love’ Winger.”
“I never said that.” Jeff replied sternly, glaring at Britta with dagger-like eyes. Abed shook his head and stared blankly at the table as he remembered; “No, you did. You specifically said ‘I don’t believe in love at first sight, or love, or friends, or doing things’, which is pretty ironic considering you’re arguing about my love for Ben with your friends right now—”
“Abed, shut up.” Jeff snapped, getting flustered with all of his friends looking at him with cheesy grins. “Just pretend I never said anything in the first place.”
Troy chuckled, looking between Ben, Jeff, and Abed. “I dunno man, it’s hard to pretend you didn’t say something that sounded like something Annie would write in her diary.”
Annie gasped in her signature offended nature, mouth agape as she looked at Troy in disbelief. Meanwhile, Jeff seemed to be the one who was more offended than anybody at the table.
“Good lord, you people are nuts! All I said was that they’re cute together, get over it!!” Jeff aggressively opened his textbook, one hand flipping through pages and the other on his forehead as he looked down, avoiding eye contact with anybody in the group.
Once again, Britta was basking in Jeff’s agony with a wide grin.
“You said they were made for each other. Now they’re cute, too?” The whole table giggled, except for Jeff, of course. “Go write a romance novel, why don’t y—”
“SHUT. UP.” Jeff somehow found a way to get his face even closer to his textbook, as if that would make him invisible to his teasing friends.
Ben put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, his eyebrows saying he felt bad, but his smile saying he thought this was hilarious. “Jeff, I appreciate that you think we’re cute.” The angry man swatted Ben’s hand away. “I don’t.”
Abed blinked, tilting his head again as he looked at Jeff. “You can’t ignore the fact we’re an adorable couple, Jeff. My aloof, silent nature combined with Ben’s fun personality is a recipe for good chemistry.” Abed then looked over at Ben, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he saw Ben wiggle his eyebrows with a smile and pink splashed across his face.
The study group all “awww”ed in unison, causing Jeff to bury himself deeper into his seat. “You guys are so hypocritical. You can coo and ‘aw’ at them but I can’t?”
Shirley shifted in her seat with a mocking grin. “We never said you couldn’t, it’s just funny hearing it from you.” The group mumbled in agreement. Jeff rolled his eyes and leaned back on his chair with a sigh.
“Whatever. I don’t care. Let’s just study.”
The group did their best to contain their last few giggles as they agreed and opened their textbooks. Ben stared at the page, not absorbing anything in front of him. As he looked up for just a moment, he saw Abed looking at him with the tiniest curls on the edges of his mouth.
He was glad Jeff thought they were made for each other. He thought so too.
How the Pack would talk about their imprints to each other:
SAM- Very private and doesn’t give details of your love life to the pack. Nothing too crazy when it comes to PDA, but he’s very affectionate toward you even when they’re around. He’s not overly clingy and doesn’t ALWAYS need to touch you (but definitely always wants to.) He gives you your space to breathe and then smothers you with his love when you’re both alone.
JARED- Always telling stories about the funny things you do/say. You have lots of inside jokes together and a lot of the stories he tells the pack are “you had to be there” moments. He’s a very casual boyfriend, and doesn’t feel the need to overly brag about you because he’s cocky enough to know that he has an amazing imprint and no one can argue against that.
PAUL- He’s like Sam as far as being semi private about his love life. If the pack is talking about their imprints, Paul is likely in his own world thinking about you to himself like; the way you laugh, the way you smile, how you feel in his arms, the way you kiss him, and some other rated R things for sure. I say “semi” private because he forgets about the mind link during patrol and will let his mind wander meaning the rest of the pack sees it too.
JACOB- Is literally Shakespeare when he talks about you. Always says something elegantly beautiful about you...almost like a specially written poem. The pack makes fun of him and calls him a sucker for love, but he’s not ashamed one bit.
EMBRY-His smile speaks for him and his cheeks glow bright red at even the slightest mention of you. He’s a man of little words when it comes to love and would prefer to listen to the other pack members talk about their imprints to avoid sounding like a stuttering mess infront of everyone. Mumbles a lot.
QUIL-Won’t shut up about you! Once the pack gets him going, they can’t get him to stop. He’s in love and has been WAITING to find his imprint since the day he shifted. He brags about how talented you are and how he can’t wait for you to be his wife.
SETH-Lots of movement rather than words to show how he feels. The pack will be talking about their imprints, and when it’s Seth’s turn to talk, he’s likely dancing or making exaggerated arms movements rather than giving too many verbal details. The pack begs him to stop moving because it makes them nauseous watching him move around so much.
LEAH-She doesn’t just tell anyone about you. She holds everything about you near and dear to her heart. She writes a lot, and it helps her more than talking about things out loud. She’s very vocal to you about her feelings, but the pack is always so rowdy and she doesn’t feel like wasting her thoughts on “a bunch of psycho fur balls.”
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“Karen!” Matt yelled into the hallway. “Get your boyfriend out of my office! He stinks!”
Karen, Frank, and Foggy all started talking over each other.
“What? No he doesn’t, I know for a fact he showered this morning -”
“I don’t stink, Murdock -”
“Wait, Karen, how do you know -”
“All of you shut up! Foggy, it’s obvious, they both smell like Karen’s shampoo. Except Frank also smells like preservatives.” He said it like it was a dirty word.
“Jesus Christ, Red, I just got back from a weeklong job fuckin’ yesterday -”
“And did you eat ramen flavor packets as your only meal for that entire week?”
“No,” Frank said, “I ate ramen for that whole week. And I spaced it out with some beef jerky and dried fruit.”
Matt hissed. “Shitty dried fruit. Gas station dried fruit.”
“Oh my god.” Karen tried to hide her smile, but her quiet huffs of laughter gave her away.
“Matt, chill out,” Foggy said. “I know all that crap makes your taste buds revolt, but it’s okay for other people to eat them, they’re not banned.”
“They should be!” Matt exclaimed. “Frank! I’ve had your cooking! I know you know what good food tastes like!”
“What, you think I got a gourmet kitchen in my fuckin’ van?”
“Maybe!” Matt spluttered.
“Matt,” Foggy tried again, but Matt rounded on him.
“You have no leg to stand on, Mr. I-ate-exclusively-from-vending-machines-during-finals-week! I’ve known the smell of hot Cheetos from miles away since freshman year!”
Karen winced. “Ooh, Foggy. Hot Cheetos?”
“It was college! Frank, stop fucking laughing, you dickhead!”
“Yeah, Frank,” Matt chimed in.
He snatched a Daredevil helmet-shaped stress ball off his desk and lobbed it at Frank’s head. Frank ducked, predictably, and Matt rummaged through his desk drawers for more.
“What, are you trying to take over for Bullseye too, now?” Karen joked. The boys all turned to stare at her - or in Matt’s case, in her general direction.
“Too soon, man,” Foggy said.
Karen shrugged. “What’s trauma for if you can’t joke about it?”
Frank made a choking sound and tried to cover it up with a cough.
“Hey, Nelson,” he said, bending down to pick up one of the foam Daredevil helmets that Matt had been throwing at him. “When the hell did you guys get branded stress balls?”
He examined the white “NELSON, MURDOCK, AND PAGE” emblazoned on the helmet’s scarlet forehead before chucking it at Matt, who fumbled it a little but managed to send it flying back toward Frank’s torso.
“I had kids, Red,” he taunted. “Foam balls won’t do shit - I’m tougher than that.”
Matt pulled open another drawer, slammed it shut, and threw something else, directly at Frank’s nose.
“Ah, FUCK!” Frank yelled as the whatever-it-was fell to the floor.
Matt grinned. “Ooh, the big bad Punisher, defeated by a plastic dinosaur!” he crowed.
Foggy scooped up the dinosaur - a pink Stegosaurus - before Frank could stomp on it.
(He did not come close to getting his fingers smashed under a heavy pair of combat boots. Not at all.)
“Matt, this is one of the ones I gave you!”
“Oops, sorry Fogs.”
“He could’ve died!”
“But for a good cause, Foggy!”
Frank looked Matt in the face and made sure he was paying full attention before tipping the packet of ramen seasoning into his mouth.
“Couch,” Karen proclaimed.
“Wait, no,” Frank protested half-heartedly. It was hard to argue his case through his mouthful of salt and seasoning.
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Out Of The Woods - college!AU - PART 3
A/N: I’m partial to this chapter, but perhaps that’s just me. I’ve not gotten a lot of feedback on this series sooooo idk if I’m just sharing it for me at this point lol but I’m having fun and that’s what matters, right?! Anyways I’m always around for thoughts, feelings, questions!
Only an essay, a few chapters of reading, and a couple shifts at work separated you from your hang out with Nikolai. You found yourself wondering what he was up to, what made him smile that day, what he’d look like on top of you now. That last one tended to linger a minute before you violently shook it from your head. You hardly knew each other anymore, not to mention you had a boyfriend- you couldn’t let yourself start to fantasize about him like that. But he was so sweet and gentle, so sassy and smart. It didn’t hurt that he was still painfully handsome either.
You were sitting at work, more or less twiddling your thumbs, when you felt a buzzing against the white countertop of the receptionist desk you sat behind. When you looked at the screen, an unknown number appeared. You unlocked your phone and opened your texts. Seeing the first line preview made your heart leap into your throat immediately.
N: Hey it’s Nik. Just thought you should have my number too :)
Y: Hey there you glad you didn’t lose that paper
N: I could never! What are you up to?
Y: Just at work, pretty slow today so I’m kinda bored
N: Hopefully I can keep you a little company. Where do you work?
Y: John Richard Salon- it’s that one downtown across from that hot dog place
N: Oh yeah! Seen it a million times. Do you do hair? Is that a secret talent of yours?
Y: God no lol I’d be horrible at it. I don’t have the dexterity for it. I’m just their receptionist
N: “Just” please I’m sure you’re their best employee
You stopped to roll your eyes, but also couldn’t stop the heat from rising on your cheeks.
N: Do you like it?
Y: It’s pretty good for a low responsibility job- it pays the bills too so I’m not complaining
N: That always helps
Your name had been called from off to your side, making your head snap up and you locked eyes with Deja, who was easily your favorite coworker. “And just what has you smiling like an idiot? Hm?” she asked with a smirk and leaned across the counter from you.
“Remember that guy I was telling you about from the party?”
“Oh yeah, the one you fucked in high school?” she teased.
You let out a long sigh. “Well, he just texted me. We’re supposed to hang out on Friday,” you said confidently, raising your chin in her direction to show her there was nothing of consequence going on between you and Nikolai.
“Hang out. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Deja looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you could only respond with a look of your own.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you laughed. “Seriously. We haven’t hung out in years and it’s nice to have someone to hang out with who knows me. And wants to hang out with me,” you added under your breath.
“Don’t tell me Matt is back on his bullshit…”
You simply raised your thumb and index finger just slightly apart, squinting at the space between them.
As you were catching her up on the last week, John walked over and flipped over the open sign, locking the glass door in front of him. You took that as your sign to help clean up so you could get out of there as soon as possible. The girls all pitched in, sweeping up the few stray clumps of hair on the old wooden floor and wiped down all the counters for the morning.
While you were on the bus for the short ride back to your apartment, you suddenly remembered the conversation you were having with Nikolai before you closed up shop. You cursed under your breath and pulled out your phone again, quickly thumbing a message back.
Y: Sorry! I got caught up closing
N: No sorry needed, you were at work after all
Y: lol I suppose that’s true. They don’t pay me to sit around and look pretty
N: They should
Y: Oh god lol stop
N: Have I told you that I’m really looking forward to Friday?
Y: No but I’m looking forward to it too
You had since made it home and crawled into bed, happy to finally be off your feet and talking to the boy who disarmed you with a single smile. For the next few hours, the two of you texted back and forth, mostly about classes and work, but you couldn’t stop yourself from occasionally flirting with Nikolai. You really needed to work on actively not doing that, but you allowed yourself one last evening of toying with him. When the clock rolled over to 1am, the lids of your eyes were beginning to grow heavy and a long yawn escaped from your lips.
Y: I think I’m going to fall asleep on you I’m sorry
N: Holy shit I didn’t realize it was so late
N: I should get to bed too. I have a presentation in the morning
Y: Don’t let me keep you up!
N: But darling that’s all I want ;)
N: Sweet dreams- I’ll see you Friday
Y: Goodnight Nik
Friday finally came and you were nervous as you fixed your hair one last time in the wide bathroom mirror. You opted for tight jeans, a pretty low cut tank, and a zip up hoodie. There was no way you were going to just hang out at his house looking like you were ready for the club, but you still wanted to remind Nikolai that you were cute. Genya had already left for the night, so you weren’t able to have a second set of eyes give your outfit the final approval; you could really use the reassurance right about now. As you casually boosted your chest one more time, there was a light knock at the front door. You opened it to Nikolai in a skin-tight tee for your school and a light canvas jacket. His hair was perfectly disheveled and his jeans clung tight to his thick thighs. You caught him giving you a long onceover before giving you a wide smile.
“You look amazing,” he breathed out, pulling you in for a tight embrace. You let your hands wander over his broad back, exploring the pull of his muscles under his jacket.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you smirked as you pulled apart. You locked up behind you and let Nikolai walk you downstairs and out to his car.
“Pizza?” he asked, one hand low on your back, the other gesturing vaguely you assumed in the direction of the car.
“I thought you’d never ask,” you smiled from ear to ear. Immediately, you could see the tension leave Nikolai’s shoulders. As you stepped foot into the parking lot, the sky decided it was the perfect time to open up and unleashed a sheet of rain unlike any you’d had so far this fall. You yelped as it began to pour, throwing your hood over your head. Nikolai acted quickly and threw off his jacket, holding it high above your head to keep you dry as you both splashed quickly to his car. This gesture made your heart swell; you were starting to think Nikolai may be a real lift knight in shining armor. He opened your door and made sure you were out of the rain before joining you and whipping his soaked coat in the backseat. You were both laughing at the situation and he was visibly relieved that you took the whole hiccup in stride. “Let’s get fucking dry ,” you laughed and he needed no further request to set off in the direction of his apartment.
Nikolai actually didn’t live too far from you, you realized when he pulled up across the street from the brown duplex. It was still raining when you parked and you again sprinted to the front porch in a desperate attempt to stay a little dry. When you got close to the door, you realized that it was a lot louder inside than you thought it would be. Nikolai must have noticed too because his jaw immediately set, irritation flashing behind his hazel eyes.
“Fucking Aleks,” he muttered under his breath before pushing the door open. A large party was taking place, unbeknownst to Nikolai. There were people passing in front of them, a lively game of beer pong in process, and more than one person going through their cupboards. Nikolai gestured for you to head inside and he slammed the door shut behind him. “Do you mind waiting here for just one second? I have to talk to Aleks quick,” he asked quietly into your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. You nodded and he gave you a small smile before setting off for the kitchen. Aleks was laughing against the fridge with a couple other guys, barely registering it when Nikolai was standing in front of him, arms crossed tight over his chest.
“Dude! I thought you said you were going to the baseball house!” Nikolai scolded.
“Nikolai! I’m so glad you’re here, man. No, we decided to have people over here instead. We’re always at the baseball house,” Aleks smiled, giving Nikolai a friendly punch to his shoulder; Nikolai didn’t budge an inch.
“I kinda had plans here tonight, remember?” he said through gritted teeth, giving a small nod back towards where you stood. Aleks’s face dropped as it all came back to him.
“I am so sorry man, I totally forgot.”
“Obviously,” Nikolai scoffed.
“I mean it. It slipped my mind. I’m really sorry dude.” It was hard for Nikolai to stay mad at Aleks for long, if at all. You saw Aleks give Nikolai a long hug, evidently sorting out whatever disagreement they just had. Nikolai made his way back to you, a little less high strung.
“C’mon,” he said and took your hand, leading you around the corner to a short hallway. He led you into a room and quietly shut the door behind you. The first thing that struck you was all of the maps and works in progress strewn across his desk and hanging on the walls. You walked around in awe and marveled at Nikolai’s decor. He had numerous prints of classic paintings and frescoes, almost all of them related to myths or historical events.
“Nikolai, this is amazing! It’s so,” your head was spinning as you looked at all of his art, “it’s incredible.” You turned back to him and he was right behind you, an amused smile pulling at his lips.
“I’m so sorry. I thought we’d be able to come and spend some time together without 80 other people.” He looked genuinely upset that he couldn’t follow through with his plan of having dinner and talking all night on the couch.
“Hey, it’s ok. We can still hang out. Why don’t we make an appearance, play a game of beer pong or whatever, and then we can watch a movie in here or something?” you offered. Nikolai’s face lifted a little at that and he lightly squeezed your hand, nodding his head in agreement. “I gotta get out of this hoodie, though. It’s fucking soaking,” you laughed.
You shed the wet garment and hung it carefully on the back of one of the chairs near you. Nikolai had changed out of his wet shirt as well; he must have moved in the blink of an eye because you didn’t even notice him switch clothes. When you looked at him again, his gaze was fixed on you, his expression hard to read. “What is it?” you finally asked with a nervous laugh as punctuation.
“You’re so pretty,” he said with a small smile. You looked down at yourself- your hair was a complete rat's nest, shirt and jeans soaked through, and though you hadn’t looked in a mirror you could feel your makeup was a mess too. And here he was, arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met, lost for words as you stood in front of him. You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head before taking him by the hand and leading him back into the party.
Nikolai grabbed each of you a drink and you wandered together to the beer pong table where Aleks was taking his last shot with his partner. Aleks grinned when he saw the two of you walk up and declared he was playing you next after he ‘kicked their ass’. He sunk the last shot and whooped loudly, high-fiving with his partner. Nikolai took his place on the opposite end of the table with you and re-racked the cups.
“Sorry I’m about to embarrass you in front of your date, Nik,” Aleks smirked arrogantly. Nikolai only bounced the light ball against the table top, catching it swiftly on the back of his long fingers. He repeated the trick, unbothered by Aleks and his shit talking, also not correcting him that you were not in fact on a date.
“We’ll just see about that,” he laughed as his first shot sank directly into the front cup. You giggled with him and took a shot of your own, somehow making another shot. You’d played a few times before, but you didn’t consider yourself skilled by any means- certainly not as skilled as these boys. Nikolai was so proud of you, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “Good luck, man.”
Aleks was frustrated as his winning streak began to slip through his fingers. Nikolai was clearly the better player, which was making Aleks crazy, though he had also had about five more drinks than Nikolai. You only made one more shot after your beginner’s luck, but Nikolai didn’t mind at all. He happily carried your team and took care of the remaining cups, always encouraging you when you made a lousy toss. Before long, Nikolai was flicking his wrists high over his head like he was making a free throw and sinking the winning shot. The small crowd around the table cheered and Aleks grumpily crossed his arms. Nikolai gathered you in his arms and lifted you easily off the ground, spinning you with him as you celebrated your very first beer pong victory, all thanks to Nikolai.
“Better luck next time!” you taunted sarcastically and Aleks finally gave you a small smile. The next team in line took your spot and you slid back into the crowd undetected and back to Nikolai’s room. “I didn’t know you were good at every sport,” you teased before taking a seat on the edge of his bed.
“Is beer pong really a sport?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He walked over to stand in front of you and ran his hand over your finally drying hair. “Movie time?”
“Yes,” you replied simply, possibly a little too quickly. Nikolai smiled at you before walking over to his bed. He pulled back the covers and crawled onto his side of the bed, patting the spot next to him, inviting you in. He had chosen some movie to put on evidently, but you truthfully didn’t notice what. You flicked off the lights and jumped in next to him with a smile. Nikolai laid out on his back and you curled up comfortably on his chest.
“I had a really good time tonight, rain storm and surprise party and all,” he said, his voice low in your ear.
“Me too,” you said with a smile, still distracted by the art on his walls. “What inspired your decor choices?”
Nikolai turned his head to look at the picture of the Minotaur over his desk. “As you know, I’m a history major,” he started. “My concentration is in classical studies, specifically the Hellenistic period.” He rolled his neck to face you again. “That’s actually my favorite myth.”
“You know, for being a creative writing major, my Greek mythology is a little rusty,” you prompted, leveling your most charming smile at Nikolai.
“Would you like me to regale you with the tale?” he asked with a dramatic flourish.
“I’m all ears, Mr. Lantsov,” you laughed, positioning yourself so you could rest your chin on your hands laying on his chest and gaze up at him.
“Alright. So, Minos had just become the ruler of the island of Crete, but was still in competition with his brother for power. He prayed to Poseidon to send him a sign of the god’s favor- a bright white bull. Minos was tasked to sacrifice the bull to honor Poseidon, but he was so enamored with the bull that he decided to keep him, believing Poseidon would accept an alternate sacrifice.” Nikolai absently petted your hair.
“But he didn’t?”
“He did not,” Nikolai laughed. “As punishment, Poseidon made Minos’ wife, Pasipahae, fall in love with the bull.”
“Such a Greek god thing to do.” You smiled up at him.
“Isn’t it?” Nikolai beamed back. “Pasiphae had the master craftsman Daedalus create a hollow, wooden cow for her to climb in so she could mate with the bull. And thus, the Minotaur was created. Pasiphae did her best to nurse and raise the Minotaur as a babe, but he grew too fast and became unruly. Minos consulted the oracle at Delphi on what to do, and as a result commissioned Daedalus to construct a gigantic labyrinth to house the Minotaur under the palace in Knossos.”
“Years go by, and one of Minos’ sons is killed by the Athenians, who I guess were jealous of a string of recent victories by the king. From here, there are a few versions on why Athens begins sending youths as tribute, but the most common is that Minos waged and won a war to avenge the death of his son. As the losers, Minos required the Athenians to send seven youths and seven maidens to be sent every seventh year to cast into the labyrinth to be consumed by the Minotaur.”
“The third sacrifice came around and the hero Theseus,” Nikolai started, contempt clear in his voice, “volunteered to go as a sacrifice to Crete to slay the Minotaur. He told his father, Aegeus, that he would put up a white sail when he came back home if he was successful, but would have the crew put up black sails if he was killed by the Minotaur. Once he was in Crete, Minos' daughter Ariadne fell head over heels for Theseus and helped him navigate the labyrinth. In most versions of the story, she gave him a ball of string so he could retrace his steps and a sword to slay the beast. Story goes that he killed the Minotaur and led the Athenians out of the labyrinth, sailing away with them and Ariadne away from Crete.”
“I’m gathering that you’re not a Theseus fan,” you said, eyes still trained on Nikolai’s face. “Why?”
“A number of reasons.” Nikolai paused, clearly deciding on how much he wanted to nerd out. “One being that on the way back to Athens, Theseus abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos. He forgot, however, to put up the white sail like he told his father he would. Aegeus saw the black-sailed ship approach and threw himself into the sea, presuming Theseus was dead. But doing so just secured the throne for Theseus. The other being that he murdered the Minotaur.”
“But didn’t the Minotaur kill a bunch of kids?”
“Or was he fed children after being abandoned by his mother, unaware of any other way to live? I don’t subscribe to the idea that the Minotaur is a monster. There’s also quite a bit of evidence that suggests Ariadne saw him as a brother, having to make the impossible choice of her ‘abomination’ of a brother and a man who had convinced her he was in love with her.” Nikolai spoke with such passion and knowledge that it made your stomach tighten. This was a Nikolai not many got to see, a Nikolai you wanted to hold and kiss and laugh with. Fuck, you were in so far over your head.
He’d never been more attractive to you than in that moment. The light from the TV dancing on his perfect cheekbones, his hazel eyes dark as he spoke. “I don’t know. I have a soft spot for him. I feel like the Minotaur got a raw deal.”
“Well, you’ve made me a believer,” you smiled and the way Nickolai beamed back at you made the heat rise in your chest.
“You should stay here tonight.”
“Nik,” you sighed, rolling off him. “You know I can’t do that.” He had no idea how badly you wanted to just scream out ‘yes’.
“I know, I know,” he conceded, staring straight up at the ceiling. “Really wish you could, though.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
“I’m not the oracle at Delphi,” you said over your shoulder, making him snort. “I can’t tell the future.”
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Still not over what you wrote about Hobi. Would you rather go on a wine tour where Yoongi is the annoying guy correcting the tour guide on the facts of the wine or Hobi as the stranger that gets easily drunk from the wine and makes you his new best friend in order to steal your wine? -WYR Anon
I think it’s safe to say, WYR anon, that I do not like rude people or know-it-all people as a rule...so guess which one I’m gonna choose?
pairing: hoseok x reader
word count: 1k
genre: wine tasting au, fluff,
warnings: kissing, drinking (a wee bit of drunkenness), unedited and literally just written, so probably mistakes.
there be wine
You’ve been watching him most of the tour.
It’s not like you planned it or anything. You are here for your best friend and her new boyfriend (third-wheel forever). You don’t even like wine. Why would you when there are drinks out there like coke and malibu, amaretto sour, and even just a good beer?
But the new boyfriend likes wine, and your BFF likes him, but needs moral support. And you have the gift (curse?) of being able to talk to anyone about anything, so you’re here.
Sipping old grape juice and listening to the tour guide ramble on and on the types of grapes grown for this kind of wine, blah blah blah.
It’s only ten minutes into the tour that you really notice him.
Maybe it’s because most everyone is in pairs of two, and yeah, he’s with someone, but unless you are as insightful as a rock (possible), you don’t think he and the other guy are anything but friends. He’s cute, but so’s his friend.
His hair is nearly white blonde, dark roots growing in just a millimeter. He’s wearing this cute little red bag on his shoulder, and he’s smiley. Like he grins a lot at his friend, at the tour guide, at the grapes.
He actually laughs at you, or just at your expression of disgust at the dry white you’ve just tasted. It’s absurdly loud, his laugh, but you like it like that. It takes some of the snobbery out of the whole experience.
So you wink at him.
Which makes his cheeks go red.
Now you’re fascinated.
It takes another few wines to realize that he’s doing it wrong. He’s drinking each sample (not tasting and spitting out). His cheeks are no longer red because he’s whole face is. His friend is less tipsy, but both are walking like they’re on a rocking ship.
You are trying to listen to the guide about the traces of earth in this particular vintage (which means it tastes kinda like dirt) when you feel warmth at your side. You glance over.
Isn’t he bold to be in your personal space like this? Though, with the glassy eyes, he probably has no clue that he’s breaking all societal protocols right now.
“Hi there,” you greet softly, aware that the guide is still droning on about… things.
“Hi.” His grin is so wide that his eyes are almost completely shut. He should smell like wine (he does a little), but he smells sweet, like cookies right out of the oven. “You winked at me.”
You look at his friend, who’s watching with fondness. Then back at this adorable stranger.
“I did. You laughed first.”
“I like your face.” He purses his lips. “I mean… your face expressions.”
You chuckle, waving your friend on when she looks back for you. “Thanks?”
“Are you gonna drink that?” he asks, lips dropping to a pout as he points to your wine glass. You offer it without question. His eyes light up even more as he takes it from you, his long fingers touching yours. You ogle his neck when he tilts his head back to drink the little wine left. He offers you back the glass. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” You look at the rim of your glass. “I guess we’ve kissed, huh?”
He blinks (so stupidly cute, this guy) as it dawns on him. “Oh shit.”
His friend laughs and wiggles his fingers at you as he continues to follow the group. You look down the path to see that they’re way ahead, but still in sight so if you want to catch up, you can.
“Do you not want to kiss me?” you ask, enjoying this odd conversation far more than anything else today. He hasn’t really moved out of your space. His hand is on your forearm now, for balance.
“I mean, yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “You’re pretty.”
You smile. “You too.”
There’s a tilt of his head, like he’s surprised you say that. “I’m kinda tipsy.”
“Actually, you might be drunk.”
He pouts. “Maybe.” He takes a step closer. “We shouldn’t.”
“Agreed,” you say, a little disappointed. “You’re under the influence and sober consent is way sexier.”
He nods again, slow before realizing you’re both alone. “Where… ?”
“Come on,” you say, leading him (his hand tightens on your arm, but he follows) toward the group. “You just owe me a kiss when you’re sober, okay?”
“Yes.” He’s so serious about that ‘yes’ that you laugh nearly as loudly as he did earlier.
It’s the next morning (after giving your new friend every sampling of wine and having to help him to his room at the B&B you both are staying at. His friend, Jimin, is highly amused at the whole thing. Your new friend’s name is Hoseok and doesn’t even make it to the fancy dinner that night), after you’ve left your small bedroom you’ve rented and gone for a quiet walk in the vineyard that you hear running footsteps. You spin around, worried (are vineyards unsafe places?) and then relax when you see him.
“You okay?” you ask.
He stops right in front of you, panting. His hair is a mess (like he just got out of bed).
He shakes his head, still trying to catch his breath. “I… saw… you from the window. I had to… catch up.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but leans in to kiss you. Your eyes close on instinct, the brush of his lips as light as the breeze that plays at the back of your neck. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and that cookie scent.
He draws back, cheeks red again. “I was afraid if I didn’t kiss you now, I’d miss my chance.” He waits for you to say something. “Right? That was okay, cause we’re sober?” He’s starting to look panicky.
It’s your turn to blink at him. “Do it again.”
He grins, effervescent and carefully cradles your face in his hands before pressing his mouth to yours again. He lingers, pressing harder when your hands hook into the front pockets of his jeans. You tug him closer, opening your mouth to taste him.
Much much better than the wine.
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Chapter 15: A false truth
Meanwhile, Jeff lay awake in his hospital bed. He didn't even properly feel angry anymore, or sad, or..anything. He just felt numb. He was getting a hair transplant, but the doctors wouldn't be able to perform proper plastic surgery until a good year or so, so natural healing of his wounds was the only viable option. His parents hadn't visited once, so he had only the staff to keep him company. Whenever one of the nurses came to change his bandages, as was procedure, he could see the look of pity in her eyes. His burns were horrific to look at, he assumed, but not once did he ask to see his own face.
When they put him under for his hair transplant, the demon, apparently calling itself "Zalgo" when asked, had returned to that space they'd talked in before. The same dark corner, red swelling around Zalgo's presence like a plague. Last time Jeff was here with the demon, he took it's hand and pledged bloodshed upon the world..but now he was second-guessing his decision.
"...How do you know Liu hates me, Zal? I mean..he could be in therapy, for all I know! He doesn't hate me, he can't..I'm his brother.."
"He sure is getting therapy.."
Zalgo reached toward one of the walls and swiped over it, opening a sort of..one way window to the sight of Liu and Natalie, gazing at the stars together, Nat running her fingers through Liu's hair as he curled up in her arms like a cat.
"He's forgotten about you, Jeff..remarkably quickly. Another thing.."
Jeff then saw into earlier in the day. Liu was talking to Randy, the kid that set him on fire, and apologized to him. Did it all mean nothing to him...? Did all the times they helped each other, the bond they had, the fact that his brother was rotting in a hospital and was going to be for a year mean nothing to him?
"A reminder, Jeffrey..he's doing this on purpose. They all do, all the couples at school that see a lonesome soul like you with nobody to go to prom with, your family that irrationally hates everything you do and paints you as a monster, the police who arrested you, mocked you for your disorder, they think it's funny. This world hates people like you, and it won't stop beating you down until you're dead."
Chapter 16: Fresh meat
Keith smirked as he saw the new girl with the black-and-red stockings pass him by in the locker. Nina Hopkins, another transfer from 9th grade. She was what you would call the "alt-girl", and if the rumors were true, had similar issues that Jeff kid had. Keith taps his friend Troy's shoulder, and the two follow her as she heads outside to eat her lunch.
"Hey! Where ya goin', anorexic?"
Nina turned to look at the boys who followed her outside, sighing as she ignored them and muttered to herself.
"Same shit as before.."
"What is it, Jeff? You finally got that sex change?"
"Jeff? who's Jeff?"
"Oh, right, that's your 'dead name'. Sorry, nInA!"
Randy saw the two outside, approaching and looking at the situation. At this point, Troy and Keith were hardly people he wanted to associate with anymore. He didn't want to bully people anymore, to hurt anyone else with these two dopes.
"C'mon, you two. We've got bigger fish to fry."
"What? We're just..introducing her to the neighborhood."
"You her boyfriend or something?"
Randy approached Keith, looming over the ginger with a subdued anger in his eyes.
"Maybe I should beat your fucking ass, Keith. Teach you your fair share of respect."
When his "friend" stepped back in surprise and fear, Ellsworth couldn't help but feel just a little bit satisfied with himself. Damn, that felt good.
"Alright, I'm coming..Jesus."
When the three left, Nina, who was just..caught up in all of this, looked on in confusion as she took a bite out of her sandwich.
"Sheesh..who is this Jeff kid, anyway? Heh, maybe I could buy some drugs or something off of him."
She joked to herself, the rest of school carrying on without incident.
Chapter 17: Breaking away
It was the same walk home as usual. The same cool air, the same autumn leaves flowing through the wind, the same desolate suburbia that New Orleans had become. Liu passed the Wallace Street sign that signaled the closeness of his house, his hands interlocked with Natalie's. He was about to cross the train tracks, but then he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Liu fuckin' Woods. How the hell've you been, little man?"
Keith Winchester. Alone. With a baseball bat.
"This is the same street your brother attacked me on. Poetic, ain't it?"
Liu felt that he wasn't gonna get out of this without violence, but he didn't expect this kid, who from what he remembered hearing, had a pretty cushy life, was going to try and attack him and Nat, of all people with a baseball bat. It was metal, too, so he had to have gotten it from his dad or something. Natalie was more annoyed than frightened, however, and began walking toward the bully.
"Oh, you think you're-"
What came next horrified Liu; the awful sound of aluminum striking flesh full force rang out as Keith bashed her upside the head with his weapon. Liu's conscious quickly gave way to let Sully in, and he charged at Keith, who raised the bat above his head to strike Liu down as well, but a hard punch to the gut quickly doubled the boy over. Sully quickly followed up by grabbing Keith's ears and headbutting him, knocking him to thee ground in a daze. Liu felt like he was outside of his own body, just..watching it all unfold. Sully grabbed the baseball bat and struck Keith in the ribs, then again in the shoulder, again to his ribs. A strike to his ankle came next, causing Keith to cry out in pain louder than before. Sully then heard the loud bells of a train arriving and grabbed Keith's leg, grabbing him and then throwing him down against the tracks, placing a foot against his back so he couldn't escape. The train grew closer and closer, the panic of the situation began slowly rushing back to Liu, as Natalie's voice called out to him;
Suddenly, Liu regained control, and before the train could kill Keith, he pulled him out of the way of the speeding train, the shock on his face mirroring his. Keith limped away as Natalie rushed over to Liu's side.
"Liu, what the hell was that?! You nearly killed him!"
"I-I don't know, I just..s-snapped!"
"...I've never seen you that..angry, before..that scared me, Liu. It's like..you were a different person."
"I...I guess it was.."
"C'mon, I'll be fine. He hits hard, goddamn it..you got an ice pack or something?"
Liu grabbed an ice pack from his backpack and gently pressed it up to his girlfriend's face, half of him internally cursing himself for not killing that Keith motherfucker for hitting Natalie, and the other just happy that this whole event was over and done with.
3 days passed, and Keith hadn't gotten any better. He could tell Randy was about to split, and Troy..Troy was as dopey as he usually was, that relentless apathy toward all the cruelty and the violence, it was disturbing at times. Still, Keith had agreed to drive the three out to this junkyard he frequented, helped him separate from the outside world. They'd decided that a couple of good-for-nothing cars in an abandoned junkyard would be the perfect tourniquets for their frustrations, and Keith's father played lots of baseball, so they had weapons to use in such..venting. Troy and Randy were having a fair bit of fun there, making crude jokes and smashing old cars to pieces, but Keith was busy letting out all of the frustration, the anger he had for the Woods brothers and what they'd done to him. The car he was smashing apart was nearly about to collapse on it's own as Winchester screamed curse word after curse word, striking the derelict with hit after hit. Once he was finished, he noticed the two other teenagers looking at him. Troy looked amazed at what his friend did, whilst Randy just seemed...concerned.
"Are..are you alright, dude?"
"No, I'm not alright!! Jeff, Liu, those two fucks have been on my mind ever since the shit with the forest happened! Everybody thinks I'm a fucking weakling, thanks to those two! Well, news flash, I am NOT a weakling!!"
"Keith, we'll get those two eventually, alright? They've hurt you, and that means they hurt all of us. Nobody hurts us."
"Right..they're the bigger fish you mentioned when you pussied out over that Nina girl, right?"
"I didn't pussy out, Keith! We need to get after those shitters and not after some weird 17 year old!"
"You..You lie through your teeth, don't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You left your journal in my car, Randall. I decided to pore through it, and what do I find? Page after page of you whining about us, saying you want me and Troy gone from your life! We were friends!"
"People change, Keith, and I changed. A-After that fire, I realized that it was wrong..all of it was wrong! This bullying shit, it isn't okay! We're making other people feel like shit for our own enjoyment, that's sick!"
Randy let out an exasperated sigh as he sat on the roof of a car, clasping his hands together as he searched for the sort of words he thought could properly express how he's changed. Maybe his story would..resonate with Keith. Troy let out a small chuckle as he laid on a car hood and watched the drama unfold.
"I've never been the best with expressing myself, Keith. People would get mad at me when I said some shit that pissed them off, I didn't have a goddamn clue as to how I was supposed to talk to people. That's why I started all of this, why I started bullying people. People didn't really like me, but it was for a reason I could understand for once! But, now..after I lit Jeff on fire, it just doesn't seem worth it anymore."
"Oh, that's why?! You can't fucking talk right?! Randy, I've gotten arrested for you, you know that?! I took the fall for you for those vandalism charges when we set that old shed on fire, and was because you apparently had a fucking speech impediment."
"Keith, calm down-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"
Randy just shook his head as Keith stormed away, snatching his baseball bat out of Randy's hands. Troy soon got up and followed, looking Ellsworth dead in the eyes as he passed him.
"You suck some off, y'know that?"
"And you swallow, prick."
Once Keith and Troy left, Randy smiled to himself, something he hadn't done ever since the incident. It was like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest, so after taking in the bliss of being free of those two, he stood up and began heading home. He'd finally broken away from those two.
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A Study In Bad Days And Caring For Your Little || polyam!ghostface
a/n- some of my mutuals/friends helped sorta,,, encourage me to post this?? so here it is !! i hope y'all enjoy <3
basically the reader has a bad day, and their caregivers rr their to help them feel better !! :D
word count: 2,011
this is entirely SFW- don't be gross about it and I won't block uu :)
It’s a late day at the end of high school, working tirelessly on class work and dealing with mean kids. Y/n’s pretty much done as the bell rings to signify the school day is over. It had been a no good, rough, bad day in more ways than one. They had to stay in at lunch to finish up a test, and had no time to meet up with their friend group. Their parents working late, and their partners still without a license, they walk home.
The sun is beginning to set by the time they reach their house. They try not to curl up and sulk in their room too much though- they still had to do their homework and make dinner for themselves. Though...a short nap wouldn’t hurt. They feel around underneath their bed, pulling out a box of secret comfort items. In it, there's various things, but on top is a small, fuzzy blue blanket- patterned with the blue and white puppy, Cinnamaroll. They rub their face against it, before looking for the other special thing.
They frown when they can’t find it. They sort through it again and again, and dumps it out in a desperate attempt. Okay, you could have always forgotten to put it back, they try reasoning with themselves. Y/n looks under near where the box had been hidden, and between their tangle of sheets, and the crack between the wall and their bed. Their eyes begin watering. They just wanted to relax after a long day- why do things keep getting worse?
Maybe all wasn’t lost as they spotted their notebook, a lightbulb shining in their head. They pick up their blanket, gnawing slightly on the edges, and their notebook. Making their way to the landline, fumbling with the pages to find his number. It rings once, twice, a third time- an overwhelming feeling of anxiety takes over them, causing their whole body to shake. Then, Stu answers.
They can hear Billy in the background making some offhand comment to Stu- who’s giggling into the receiver. “Aaagh! Okay! I’ve stopped- Y/n’s on the line! What’d you need, babe?”
They don’t answer, still nervously chewing on their blanket, and attempting not to burst into tears.
“Babe, you there? Y/n?” His voice uncharacteristically serious, dripping with worry.
They let out a pitiful whine, sniffling as they responded, “‘m sorry.”
“It’s cool-” he’s cut off, as Billy takes the phone from him.
“Whatcha need, love?”
They wipe their eyes, voice small, “C-can’t find my stuffie. Miss you an’..and daddy.”
They can hear a gentle- yet frustrated- sigh leave Billy. “‘s it the bear one?”
They hum in return. “We’ll be there soon.”
The conversation ends not long after. Billy and Stu suggest to Y/n that they cuddle up on the couch or their bed while they wait for them. It feels like an eternity before they finally hear knocking at the door. In their excitement they leave their blankie on the couch, and race to greet them. Opening the door, their eyes glimmer at the sight of their caregivers.
“Daddy!” They squeal, rushing into Stu’s arms for a hug. He laughs, holding them in return. When he eventually has to pull away, he immediately notices the tears staining their face and the redness in their eyes.
He tries to ease a tension he hadn’t noticed before, “Miss us that much?”
They give him a quizzical look and slowly, realize what he meant. They shake their head.
Stu pouts, “Aw, feeling kind of hurt by that.”
Billy rolls his eyes, roughly elbowing his partner. “They forgot their stuffed animal, moron. I told you that.”
Billy looks down at Y/n, who gives him a sad, helpless look. “Here baby, let’s go inside,” he instructs. “I’ll give it to you in there.”
They excitedly nod, and go to reach for his hand, only holding on to two of his fingers. He gives a small chuckle as they try pulling him into the house. He follows. Stu close behind. They make it into their bedroom, briefly letting go and jumping onto their bed. Falling back into it, they look up at Billy with a big, toothy grin.
He gives a tiny smile in return, sitting beside them, back against their cushie pillows lining the wall. He beckons them into his lap, and they nestle right in. Stu joins them a minute later, Y/n’s blue blanket in hand. “Left it on the couch.”
Y/n spots it almost immediately and makes grabby hands towards it. Billy shakes his head at them, “C’mon, you know how to ask,” he teases.
“Can I have my blankie, daddy?” Their voice is muffled against Billy’s shirt. He runs a hand through their hair, graciously taking the item from Stu. He tries handing it to them, but they don’t take it. He’s reminded again of what they really needed.
“Stu’s got a surprise for you.” They sneak a peek at him, he’s got the other hand that didn’t have the blanket held behind his back. They try looking behind him, but it’s a fruitless attempt.
“You wanna see it?” He gives a mischievous grin.
Billy frankly had enough of him today though, “Don’t play games with them, Stu.”
Stu shrugs off his comment, “Wasn’t gonna,” he argues. He then whips out Y/n’s teddy bear- causing a much different reaction than I either of them hoped for or expected.
They tear up again, and whine. Stu’s quick to sit beside Billy, leaning into him, and hands the stuffed animal to them. “W-where was it?” They ask, finally taking what had been offered to them.
Billy holds them close to him- protectively. They hide their face in his chest, clinging to the front of his plain tee with their hands. Their stuffie in between. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Stu said he’d wash it for you last time, do you remember that, baby?”
Their frustratingly pitiful whine ends, they sniffle, “‘m sorry. ‘Causing all tis trouble.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he responds casually.
“B-but I shoulda known,” they mumble.
Billy lets out an almost frustrated sigh, trying to stay patient with them. He runs his hands through their hair, attempting to soothe their emotions. But he can see fresh tears begin bubbling up, staining the front of his shirt.
“What’s been bothering ya, darling?” They look up at him, and he tenderly presses his thumb on their cheek, wiping a tear away. They don’t respond, trying to quiet themselves. “Someone hurt you?”
They let out a pained mewl, seeking safety pressed into Billy again, but they’re stopped by Billy. He makes them look up at him and Stu.
“Tell us,” he demands.
They close their eyes, finally murmuring, “Mean kids.”
Billy glowers, his eyes giving a far away look. Y/n shrinks back, out of his grasp. Stu’s quick to bring them into his own lap, one arm hung around them, the other cautiously wavering next to Billy. “You’re scaring them, man.”
Billy swats Stu’s hand away, letting out a low growl but face returning to normal. He looks down at Y/n, who’s shaking in Stu’s hold. “I’m not mad at you.” It’s not an apology...but it’s something and it works for his little. They make grabby hands at him.
“I-is okay, Bubba!” They reply, instantly brightening when he responds to their hand gestures, by leaning closer to his boyfriend and letting them hold onto one of his arms. “Why...why you look so scary, though?” They ask, tiredly rubbing at their eyes.
“Upset someone would harm you.”
They seem content with that reply, but don’t respond.
“We’ll take care of them,” Stu grins at them.
Billy’s back to his old self by glaring at him, not so gently smacking his boyfriend’s head in response. They tried not to mention their ghostface activities to Y/n- as they didn’t want to scare them in their little space, more than they already had- but there’d be a few more murders popping up in the news soon.
“We should watch a movie,” Stu suggests.
Billy raises his brow at him, then gives a pleasant look to Y/n- “Is that what you want?”
They shake their head against the boys, “ Muh-maybe nes’ time, daddy. Jus’ wanna cuddle with you an’ Bubba.”
Though it wasn’t what he had hoped to do, he seems pleased by the answer, nonetheless.
“Let’s get you into your pajamas though,” Billy says, cautiously pulling away.
“Jammies!” They shout in an excited glee. Stu chuckles at their antics, and they giggle along with him.
“I’ll get them set up!” While Stu goes to pick Y/n off the bed, Billy presses a rough smooch to his blond companion’s cheek. As almost a sign of gratitude.
Stu helps them get ready- picking out which clothes they need, holding on to their stuffed bear as they pull on a big, old graphic tee from one of the boys. A more mild mannered one, no blood, no guts. No knives or axes. Just a character portrait, shrouded in shadows. He also lets them go potty. While Billy makes sure everything is in order in their room. Their blankets, and their special comfort one, placed on the bed- the edges tucked safely under the mattress. Leaving the window open in case it gets too warm, but blinds shut and curtain closed so it doesn’t let any light in. As he finishes up, he sits and waits on the bed for his partners.
When Stu comes back into the room, holding onto Y/n’s hand, they’re giggling. Billy cocks an eyebrow at them, “We’re trying to get them to sleep, not hype them up.”
Stu gives a playful and exaggerated frown, sitting on the bed beside Billy, Y/n quickly climbing up and curling into his lap. “Aww, you’re no fun.”
“Whatever, Stu.” Billy shakes his head, then gives a small but bright smile to his little. “Hey, you ready for your nap?”
They nod up at him, giving him a tired smile. They hum, “Mm-hm.”
“You seem to be in a better mood, baby.” Billy comments.
“Uh-huh! Daddy says somethin’ th’tupid!” Their response earns an uproarious laugh.
“Can’t be having you say that, baby. It’s a bad word,” He teases.
Y/n pouts, and whines at the comment.
Billy gives a stern look, and they quiet down. “Buh-buh you say eh-it all the time!”
The boys give you small smiles, “Feelin’ sleepy, huh?”
They seem to be debating the question, softly humming a no and shaking their head against Stu’s chest. Finally, they reply with a hum, with a strong certainty, “Mm-hm.” It trails off, as Stu looks down to see them with their eyes closed, and sucking on their thumb.
Stu laughs, and Billy gets up to tuck Y/n in. Stu has to gently shake them awake and remove them from his lap. He tells them it’ll be more comfortable and they just hum in agreement- clearly exhausted from their long day. The boys struggle with each other to peel back the covers, laying them down in the middle. Stu finds his way beside them, back pressed against the pillows lining the wall, arms around them. They still hold onto their brown bear stuffie though.
Billy’s sure to close the door all the way, making sure Y/n can hear the click as he does. He turns off the light, and slowly climbs in next to his loves. Pulling the covers over them. He notices them sucking on their thumb again and he gently pulls it from their mouth- he and Stu would have to get something else for them at some other point. He presses a small kiss on their head, then Stu’s and whispers a gruff goodnight.
He’s about to close his eyes as Y/n lets out their final few words for the evening, “Nigh’ nigh’ Bubba an’ Da Da. Wuv you.” He hugs them as the three of them drift into a comfortable sleep.
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Bakugo KatsukixOCxSero Hanta
Also on AO3. Ties in with my Amplify series but can be read on its own.
Bakugo Katsuki and his girlfriend Mochizuki Keiko, and their adventures with their friends. In bed.
“Hey Keiko, you ever think about clouds?”
“Mm?” Keiko rolled her head lazily to the side to look at Sero, her eyes heavy-lidded. He snickered, kicking his feet in the air while staring at the ceiling, though a twitch from Keiko drew his attention. He looked over at her, knocking his temple against hers as she leaned back against the seat of the sofa.
“Get outta my space, Tapeface.” The pastel pink-haired girl protested, but pressed her temple into him and gave him a little nuzzle. They both sat in silence for several minutes, staring at the ceiling together and letting their high settle in.
“What was I saying?” Sero asked, and Keiko snorted.
“Fuck if I know. Sorry babe, I’m a pretty face, not a brilliant mind.”
“You’re telling me.” Sero retorted, taking a drag from the joint they were sharing.
“Pass it, Tapeface.” Keiko demanded, making grabby hands at her classmate. Sero snorted, leaning across the couch to press the joint against her lips and nearly falling into her. She may have licked his fingertip in taking the joint from him, but aside from a light flush to his cheeks that may have already been there, there was no obvious sign. She only knew for sure because she tasted the salt of his skin and the stark contrast to her boyfriend’s sweet and bitter sweat felt like a kick in the teeth through the fog of her high. She took a deep drag then blew the smoke out a moment later, directly into Sero’s face. He snickered, batting at her and reaching for the joint, only to have it snatched from them both by Keiko’s boyfriend.
“Bakubro! Come to join us, finally?” Sero asked, collapsing in Keiko’s lap when the angry blond shoved him. Keiko immediately began to braid Sero’s hair without giving him a chance to get up, the chunky braid coming out so messy that there was no chance it would stay. Not that the dark-haired man seemed to care, since he was melting into her hands like putty. The angry future-hero hadn’t even pushed Sero’s legs out of his lap. Bakugo kicked his feet up on the coffee table, his hand skimming briefly over Sero’s shoulder as he reached for his girlfriend’s hand.
“Woah Bakubro, you trying to smash?” Sero asked while nuzzling his cheek into Keiko’s strong thighs.
“Shut the fuck up, idiot. And stop getting all touchy with my fucking girl.” Bakugo snapped, his cheeks pink. Both of them ignored him completely.. He took another long drag from the joint to catch up with the idiots, watching Keiko’s small hands trace through their friend’s hair. The other man was arching a little under Keiko’s ministrations, and if Bakugo were any higher, he wouldn’t have noticed. He felt the typical spike of jealousy, but it was quickly mellowed out by a trickle of curiosity. He couldn’t deny that he’d thought about watching someone fuck his girlfriend, and instructing them on how to make her beg. Sero’s quirk made him an interesting prospect, but he also knew that Keiko felt at ease with him and that made the whole thing seem like an easier proposal. He couldn’t imagine Sero having any complaints; Keiko was absolutely gorgeous and Bakugo knew he was nothing to sneeze at. He also knew Sero was at very least bicurious. He wet his lips, then flipped Sero over onto his back like it was nothing. Keiko’s eyes darkened, and a series of flustered noises left the black-haired man when she simply helped him settle the upper half of his body in her lap.
“Want some, princess?” Bakugo asked, eyeing her pretty pink mouth while she nodded. He took another drag. Sero watched them thoughtfully, and maybe a little hungrily as the blond leaned over him to kiss his girlfriend, sharing the smoke with her. Watching them tongue-fuck eachother’s mouths from their laps was not exactly where he thought he’d be spending his night, but there wasn’t a fucking chance of him complaining. Not if it was Keiko and Bakugo.
“You comfy, Tapeface?” The aggressive blond interrupted his daydreaming, and he blinked for a moment before nodding.
“Never been comfier.” Sero replied, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head when Keiko seemingly accidentally pulled his hair. Bakugo snorted at the sight, reaching over to offer the joint to Sero, shamelessly pressing his fingers against the other man’s lips. The tape hero took a long drag, letting his eyes roll back in his head while Keiko snatched the joint the moment he stopped pulling from it. Sero exhaled through his nose, flicking his tongue over Bakugo’s fingers while locking eyes with the grouchy blond. Keiko giggled as Bakugo pushed his fingers shamelessly into Sero’s mouth to press down on his tongue, his eyes nearly black with lust.
“You down?” Bakugo asked, his gaze moving from Sero to Keiko while he slid his fingers out to trace his friend’s mouth. The pink haired girl licked her lips, then nodded, which drew a strangled noise from Sero.
“Yep. Very down. All the way down. Subterranean.” The black-haired hero replied, his voice a tiny bit higher than normal.
“Fucking idiot.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, shoving his fingers back into Sero’s mouth to shut him up while he pulled his girlfriend into a deep kiss. Sero took the opportunity to run his hands up over Keiko’s stomach under her shirt while sucking on Bakugo’s fingers.
“We should move this to a dorm room, sugar.” Keiko purred, a laugh trailing off into a soft moan as Sero released her boyfriend’s fingers to cup her tit through her shirt and latch his mouth around her nipple. Bakugo obligingly pulled her shirt up for him, and Sero openly moaned at the tit drop before latching on again.
“Give him a second, princess. Tapeface’s gotta take a second to appreciate these beautiful tits. He’s never gonna see anything of the same quality again.” Bakugo teased.
“I dunno, Katsu, he’s gonna be seeing your tits soon.” Keiko retorted, earning her a snort from Sero and a pinch to the other nipple from her boyfriend.
“I’ve seen Bakubro’s tits, Kei. They’re great, but he’s got nothing on you.” Sero hummed while savagely pinching her pink nipples. The tape hero soon found himself launched onto the carpet when Bakugo got sick of restraint, lifting Keiko over his shoulder as he marched towards Sero’s room. A smack on the ass had her squawking, and Sero jumped up to chase them. A door in the hall opened and Shouto popped his head out, brow rising at the excitement on Sero’s face. He stole a glance at Bakugo carrying Keiko, locking gazes with her and looking rather confused by the fierce blush on her cheeks. His expression only grew more confused when Bakugo opened Sero’s door and headed inside. Sero offered him a sheepish shrug, then disappeared into his room with them, hanging a sock on the door and locking it behind them.
“We should discuss limits.” Keiko hummed, laughing when Bakugo tossed her onto Sero’s bed. Sero crawled on after her, then leaned back to pull his shirt over his head.
“I mean, I’m down for whatever. Not much into the pain game, but I’m down with a lot.” Sero hummed, his eyes tracing over the now nearly naked Bakugo.
“I’m not taking a dick, but I’ll fuck your pansy ass if you’re desperate for it, Tapeface.” Bakugo hummed, nonchalant despite his words. Keiko snorted, getting onto her knees on the edge of the bed to pull her boyfriend in for a kiss.
“Babe, do you mind if Sero fucks me?” Keiko asked. He drew a hiss from her by biting down on her neck.
“I wanna watch you get fucked. And then we’re going to see if you can take both of us.” Bakugo replied. Sero choked on his own spit.
“Eager, Hanta?” Keiko purred teasingly, licking her lips. Her pupils were blown so wide from the lust and the weed that Sero couldn’t even tell their colour anymore.
“Fuck, I like when you say my name.” Sero murmured, tugging her into a messy kiss. They came together slowly, Keiko clearly used to kissing Bakugo, while Sero was used to his own way of kissing. There was a brief war of wills, but Keiko inevitably gave in, letting her friend tongue-fuck her mouth like he wanted her tastebuds to memorize him. Small hands traced along Sero’s arms to his elbows, and he made a soft questioning noise into the kiss when Keiko gave him a gentle tug.
“Gimme a bit.”
“Uh, kay, sure.” Sero obliged, and Keiko giggled, tackling Bakugo from where he was resting at the end of the bed with his hand around his thick cock, naked save for his boxers around his thighs.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” The blond growled, only to have a piece of tape slapped over his mouth. He fought, but Keiko had the drop on him, taping his hands together while grinding down on his lap.
“Ha, man, didn’t think Bakubro’d be the one tied up, but I can’t say I’m complaining.” Sero teased, offering her another piece of tape that she used to secure him to the headboard. Bakugo squirmed wildly, but Sero traced his hands up the other man’s thighs to yank his boxers down, and that made him freeze. Sero looked up into Bakugo’s eyes to check in, and the red-eyed hero offered him a firm nod, arching into his hands. The moan that Bakugo let out when Sero palmed his cock was pure filth, drawing an answering moan from the tape hero. A couple of strokes had the blond’s back arching, hips thrusting to meet Sero’s hand.
“He’s complaining, but don’t worry about it. He’s just whining for show. He’s loving every second of it.” Keiko promised, pulling Sero away from her boyfriend and into an eager kiss. Hanta obligingly helped her strip him while they kissed, only breaking away to pull Keiko’s shirt off. He slapped her butt, then squeezed firmly, nearly tearing her leggings off to get at her. No underwear, thank god.
“God, you’ve got such a great ass. Nice and thick, and these strong fucking thighs. I love how strong you are, Kei. I’m sure Bakugo’s caught me staring in the gym, though I know I’m not the only one.” Sero hummed, snickering at the tied-up blond’s muffled grumbling, “When you were doing chin-ups yesterday in Todoroki’s sauna boot camp, I wanted to lick the sweat off your arms. Mina and I were talking about your abs on our water break. Wanna trace ‘em with my tongue, suck your tits, devour your sweet little-”
“Oh my god, Hanta, shut the fuck up.” Keiko groaned, flipping them over like it was nothing and sitting her bare pussy on his face, “Put your mouth to good use for once.”
“Itadakimasu!” Sero crooned happily, wrapping his arms around her thighs to hold her down against his mouth and swipe his tongue over her cunt. Bakugo moaned against the tape over his mouth, staring at his girlfriend’s back and fat ass, watching for the occasional flash of pink of Sero’s tongue as he devoured her. Keiko looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded and mouth dropping open. She moaned loudly, her hands closing around Sero’s, giving her some sort of grounding through the onslaught of his wicked tongue. Bakugo growled through the tape over his mouth, hips bucking up into nothing, digging his feet into the mattress to feel more stable.
“Fuck, Hanta. Knew your mouth was good for something other than talking nonstop. Do you like the taste of my cunt? Katsuki came in me a couple of hours ago, can you taste it?” Keiko asked, eyes rolling back in her head when Sero moaned in response. She gave a little roll of her hips, moving one hand to grasp his hair and tug at it.
“Katsuki likes when I talk dirty, how about you? Did you know we’ve only been with eachother? Hasn’t stopped Katsu from being a dirty little bastard. The amount of times he’s railed me so hard I couldn’t walk properly the next day, just so he could watch me struggle during training and know it was his fault.” The pink haired girl practically purred, shuddering when Sero gave her clit a strong suck. Keiko whimpered, gripping his hair a little tighter as he continued to lick and suck at her puffy pussy, treating her like the tastiest thing he’d ever had. He kept moaning into her cunt, shameless about the amount of noise he was making. Clearly, Bakugo was enjoying it since he was trembling and bucking and tugging at his restraints.
Keiko’s orgasm hit her like a freight train, completely out of nowhere, and her back snapped into a gorgeous arch. Sero slid his hands up her spine to feel out the curve and hold her against his mouth, slowing down as she began to calm down from her climax. He didn’t stop, however, until she forced him to. Keiko collapsed against her boyfriend, finally letting him free from the tape. Sero joined them, shamelessly laying against Bakugo’s chest with her, taking the moment to steal a rather aggressive kiss from the blond while Keiko was recovering. Bakugo indulged him, giving Sero’s ass a firm squeeze despite having not too much to grab.
“Hey, Katsu, do you think someone could fuck your tits? Like a boob job?” Keiko asked, nuzzling her cheek against her boyfriend’s pec.
“The fuck are you on about? My pecs aren’t that big, dumbass.”
“I mean, they kinda are though.” Sero mused, smirking at the pure annoyance on Bakugo’s face.
“Shut the fuck up.” The blond rolled his eyes at them, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend, biting her lower lip rather hard. Sero pulled Keiko up onto her knees by her hips, helping her settle overtop of Bakugo. Her hands traced up to her boyfriend’s shoulders and she was lucky she grabbed on quickly enough, as Sero thrust into her with little to no warning.
“Fuuuuuuck.” Sero moaned lowly, locking gazes with Bakugo, who offered him a smirk.
“Jesus fuck, Kei, your pussy is fucking perfect. So fucking wet, and the peffect grip.” Sero growled near her ear, taking a second to adjust before beginning to thrust. His pace was slow at first, but so deep Keiko was sure Bakugo must have been able to see the shape of Sero’s cock through her belly. He wasn’t going easy on her, each thrust jolting Keiko forwards into her boyfriend’s chest, whimpers escaping her so often she was grateful that the walls were so thick. Bakugo dragged her in for a kiss, then shoved her down roughly, barely giving her a moment to take a breathe before shoving her mouth down to his cock. She opened her mouth on instinct, dropping her jaw and taking him in. She wiggled her head with every inch to angle him better, until her nose met his white-blond pubic hair. Sero and Bakugo groaned in unison, filling the pastel pink-haired girl from both sides until she felt fit to burst. Keiko slid back slowly, opening her eyes to look up at Bakugo as she took him in again and swirled her tongue around him.
“Fuck, this is like a goddamn porno.” Sero murmured from behind her, giving her thick ass a firm slap, smirking when that jolted her forwards onto Bakugo’s dick and gagged her.
“Is she starting to loosen up?” Bakugo asked, an evil smirk on his face. Sero snickered but nodded, pulling her back on his cock and bracing an arm under her tits, holding her back against his chest. Bakugo shifted a little beneath them, getting situated, then pulled them both down via a firm grip on Sero’s hair. He kissed the dark haired man rather thoroughly, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock to help guide his cock. Keiko reached down to help out, spreading herself open and trying to relax her muscles. It took a bit of effort, and Sero moaned like he was being murdered the entire time, hips stuttering as Keiko’s already tight cunt got even tighter. By the time Bakugo was inside of her, Keiko was a wreck, her face pressed into her boyfriend’s shoulder, drool leaking from her mouth with every gut-wrenching moan driven from her body. Sero dug his fingers into Keiko’s hips so tightly he was sure to bruise her, his thrusts gentler than before simply because she was so tight that he struggled to move.
“Fuck, this is fucking perfect. So fucking tight. So wet. You enjoying this baby? You gonna come?” Bakugo growled, his voice deep and gravelly with lust.
“Hey, does Keiko make that ahegao face when she comes?” Sero asked, gritting his teeth but still grinning away.
“Sometimes. Depends on how hard she comes.” Keiko clenched around them, squeezing her eyes shut, only to have her face slapped and her jaw grasped in Bakugo’s hand.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes, Kei. You look at me.”
“Suki, please, can’t. Too much.” Keiko begged, though she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. All she knew was that she was coming apart at the seams. Bakugo’s fingers found her clit, and she wailed as she came, nearly headbutting Sero when she threw her head back. Her cunt squeezed, and Sero came next, biting down on Keiko’s shoulder to keep from screaming. Those last couple of thrusts drove Bakugo on, and he took over, bucking up into his girlfriend’s pussy as another man’s cum leaked out. It only took a couple of firm thrusts before he came as well, holding Keiko by her hips so the head of his cock was kissing her cervix.
Sero pulled out when it started to hurt, the flood of cum making him grin, but the arousal at the sight made his dick twitch and deepened the ache. Keiko collapsed bonelessly atop her boyfriend, nuzzling her nose into his sweaty neck and trying to steady herself against him. Sero laid down beside them both, running his hand over Keiko’s back while letting his head loll to the side to rest against Bakugo’s shoulder. They laid in silence for several minutes before Bakugo gently moved Keiko off of him and stood up. He got dressed again, after tossing Keiko’s clothes to Sero. Sero redressed Keiko delicately, smothering her in kisses as he went, while she blinked blearily at him and tried to snuggle closer, making his job even more difficult. He paused to use his shirt to clean up Keiko’s cum-soaked pussy, being as gentle as he could be so as to not hurt her while she was feeling delicate. Once she was dressed, Bakugo picked her up and held her against him, then leaned down to steal a final kiss from Sero.
“This was fun. Maybe we’ll do this again. Keep it to yourself, and don’t be fucking weird. Keep in mind that if you want anything again, you have to ask both of us. We won’t do this on our own.” Bakugo said rather simply, without his usual grumpy tone. Sero laughed, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah man, I know. I gotchu. Thanks for having me. If you guys get an itch, I’m fairly sure I’ll always be down.”
“Down? Like, subterranean?” Keiko asked blearily, offering Sero a sleepy smile that had him clutching his heart.
“Jesus, get outta here before I try and keep you both. Goodnight.” Sero hummed, tossing his dirty shirt into his laundry basket. Bakugo offered him a simple nod, then carried his exhausted girlfriend back towards their dorm room. The only reason he didn’t notice Shouto’s open door and bi-coloured head peeking out to watch them was because he was dead on his feet.
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Wrote this after a great conversation with @nastyatticman and an idea he had inspired this, and it includes his incredibly cool OC, Sidney!
Basically, the plot is you’re Julian’s newest attempt at a partner-in-crime, and he decides to have you join him at a masquerade ball he’s throwing in his house and meet his friends. Of course, with Julian, there’s always a catch...
This fic is NOT WORKSAFE, though I don’t think there’s anything that really requires a trigger warning of any kind except maybe bondage? Pronouns are gender neutral. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy reading!
The party was in full swing, Julian’s guests mingled beneath the fairy lights, illuminated only enough to be able to see each other's ornate costumes and masks. Though it was indoors, the space felt much larger with how he had redecorated it, the house no longer appeared to be a kitschy retro space, but instead an opulent place that suited the masquerade perfectly.
Even you had to admit it was impressive, though you were in no position to say so.
Julian, sporting an extravagantly decorated golden grinning devil mask and an equally stunning all black suit, held you tightly by his side, his muscular arm wrapped around your waist.
Underneath your black robe and golden angelic mask, one created specifically to compliment Julian’s mask, you were bound. Ropes entwined around your bare body in a shibari technique that left your arms completely tied, and in your mouth was a gag.
To all the guests, you simply looked just like any other party-goer. Julian and you alone were the only ones even remotely aware of your secret attire.
“You’re doing great, dollface. Keep it up just a few more hours.” Julian whispered in your ear, his hand rubbing almost reassuringly at your back. You tried to twist out of his grasp, but he was much stronger than you.
It wasn’t that you hated Julian, no, despite the whole ‘kidnapping and keeping you captive in his basement that was clearly used as a torture dungeon’ thing, you still couldn’t help but like him. He was a cocky asshole with clear murderous tendencies and a sadistic streak longer than he was tall, but he was hot. Even being tied up had not kept you from ogling him as he got ready for the party earlier that day. Still, he had promised it would be a party you would never forget, and you had begun to look forward to it.
But really, did he have to gag you too?
Though his face was covered, you were certain he had a smug look on his face, he so rarely seemed to be without one. You never knew quite what he was thinking, but luckily for you he had a big enough mouth that it was never long before he outright told you.
“Just think, all these guests, and not a fuckin’ one knows what you’re doing. They just think you’re shy, but we know better, don’t we?” Julian turned the dial on the little remote in his pocket and you practically jumped in the air. You had almost forgotten about that.
The vibrations were weak, only enough to remind you of its presence, but it had been days since Julian had last let you touch him, and you had been aching for him. It was just your unfortunate luck that your captor-turned-boyfriend also happened to be a massive tease.
Julian led you around the room, introducing you to his guests as best he could, he seemed as unaware of who was under which mask as you were, for the most part. You had never met his friends before, and was surprised to find he even had any after the way he went on and on about how lonely he had been.
One couple he introduced you to, two men with quite the height difference between them, he seemed positive he knew who they were, even despite the masks. “I helped hook them up. Didn’t I, Sidney?”
“Yeah, honestly Julian, you really did come through there.” The shorter one replied, and though you were certain he was playing it up a little to make his friend look better, it did sound as if there was some truth to the claim.
“Your companion, why aren’t they talking?” The taller one asked, his voice surprised you, it was almost childlike and the very picture of a posh British accent.
Julian laughed and grabbed your arm, pulling you to his side. “They’re just real fuckin’ shy, aren’t ya?”
You quickly nodded.
“Wait, is this the one you were telling us about? The one you’ve been working on?” Sidney asked, and you turned to look at Julian, his smug mask once again masking any expression he might have.
If you could have, you would have told him off for telling people about you.
“The one who hiccups when they-“ Brahms was thankfully cut off before he could finish that thought, and you were certain it had something to do with Sidney elbowing him roughly in the side.
You were certainly going to need to have a talk with Julian after the party.
“A-Anyway! I’ve still got a fuck ton of guests to introduce, so I’ll talk more later!” Julian placed his hands on your shoulders, steering you away, eager to end the conversation.
“Good luck with Julian! You might need it.” Sidney called out, and you weren’t sure if he was kidding or not.
The rest of the night felt like a blur, the vibrator between your legs was almost constantly in motion, never letting you relax. But every time it seemed as if you were close to the edge, it was shut off, denying you any release.
By the time Julian had sent most of the guests home, apart from a few he pointed towards the guest rooms, you were a mess. Soon, it was only you and Julian left in the dark living room standing in the conversation pit.
Julian unmasked, readjusting his glasses and slicking his hair back. He turned towards you and licked his lips.
“Let’s get that fuckin’ mask off you now, pumpkin. Show me that sexy face, yeah?” Julian muttered, carefully removing both your mask and gag. You were positively drenched in sweat.
You opened your mouth to speak, only for him to shush you.
“Wish you could see yourself, you’re looking wild. Fuck, if I had known you were like this under there, I would’ve bent you over in front of fuckin’ everybody. Bet you would’ve loved that, huh?”
You weren’t given the time to reply before he pushed you backwards, your body gently colliding with the soft pile of pillows on the couch. He climbed on top of you, remote secure in hand.
“You did a good job back there, I think it’s about time I gave you a reward, right, sunshine? I promised I’d make this a night you’ll never forget.”
You had no doubt he would keep that promise.
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Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - Part 12
Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.
WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth.
18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3
"Awful lotta people in there." Wade says as he pushes himself onto his toes again to look through the window.
"Yeah." Bucky says, not bothering to look.
"I mean I know I've been gone awhile but I do not remember there being that many "familes" in this city." Wade says, dropping back down next to Bucky, his fingers jumping around the air quotes.
"There's not." Bucky said, his voice even.
"So you mean to tell me, that all these fucking criminals, and thieves, and neirdowells. They all got together... and lied?" He says, looking at Bucky, and he can hear him smirking under his mask.
"I know. It's shameful." Bucky says, shaking his head.
"It truely is. This town is really going to the dogs." Wade said, checking the chamber of the gun in his hand.
"You saw the cameras right?" Wade asks, serious now.
"I saw 'em." Bucky nods.
"We got a serious voyeur on our hands." Wade says, pulling another gun from its holster and checking it as well.
"They're Sam's." Bucky says, moving his eyes slowly to Wade's face. He pauses and looks over his gun at Bucky.
"Sam's." He says,
"How do you know that?" He asks.
"Cuz I watched Helen put them up last night." Bucky said, checking his own gun, and patting his pockets, making sure his clips were still there.
"Ooh shit. Your boyfriend doesn't trust us." Wade says, shoving his guns back into place. Bucky snorts.
"He doesn't trust anyone right now." Bucky mumbles, leaving out the fact that he agrees, Sam shouldn't trust anyone at the moment. He takes a deep breath and pushes himself to his feet, facing Wade as he does the same.
"Probably a good call. We are notably untrustworthy." Wade says, a wiggle of his eyebrows making Bucky incline his head in agreement.
"So we're just gonna kill everybody right?" Wade asks as he follows Bucky to the giant sliding door on the side of the warehouse.
"Yeah. Yeah that was pretty much the plan, yeah." Bucky says, resting his back against the bricks of the warehouse.
"Just checkin, since there's, ya know, like... fifteen people in there. Fifteen, highly armed, people. And we were expecting like... what, five maybe?" Wade says, Bucky turns to look at him.
"You were only expecting five fucking people to show up?" Bucky asks, incredulous.
"I was trying to be optimistic!" He whispers loudly. Bucky rolls his eyes and turns back to the door, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.
"Five people." He mutters, shaking his head.
"Well I don't know!" Wade almost yells, both of them wincing at the noise, their shoulders bunching as they both crouched back down.
"Who's there?" A voice calls from inside. Bucky sighs, turing to glare at Wade.
"I am... so sorry." He sighs, the eyes on his mask going wide. Bucky sighed and stood up, squaring his shoulders, he moved his eyes back to the door, the low light in the warehouse illuminating a small sliver on the ground.
"Showtime." Bucky says, and it sounds like a sigh to his own ears, but his fingers are itching. Wade nods and follows him as he walks into the light of the warehouse.
Bucky keeps his eyes on the group in front of him as Wade slides the door shut and locks it. There are fifteen plus guns trained on them, and very limited places to hide from gunfire. A few high stacked pallets here and there. They could probably make it behind one if they had too. Bucky let his eyes scan over the muzzles in front of him and blinked slowly.
"Evening gentlemen." He says, keeping his hands still at his sides, not wanting to give them any reason to shoot him. He was used to be shot. But it still fucking hurt.
"What the fuck is this?" The man at the front asked, Bucky thought he looked familiar but he couldn't place which family he worked for, and truth be told, in a few minutes, it wouldn't really matter. Bucky took a step, slowly, to his right, he felt Wade move a step left, and heard the guns in front of them click.
"Well," Bucky started, going so far as to raise his hands, his fingers twitching with need.
"It would seem that your heads of house have been... misguided." He said, he took another step, Wade mirrored him, staying blessedly silent.
"Misguided huh? I think they got just what they wanted." Leader of the pack said, his stupid fucking buzzcut irking Bucky as he spoke. Bucky's head twitched, ever so slightly.
"Did they?" He asked, sarcasm lacing his voice and he moved his foot slowly.
"Cuz it seems to me, that they're right back where they started." Bucky said, turning his hands a little, shrugging at Haircut as the man frowned at him.
"Back where they started? You think that goody two shoes idiot can take over what Steve left? He ain't doin a very good job is he? We got half the old businesses running scared. And the rest of 'em will be ours soon enough." Haircut said smiling as laughter echoed through the group of men staring them down. Bucky nodded, taking another step.
"Maybe. But you are kind of... overlooking, something pretty important. Aren't you?" Bucky asks, his left foot sliding behind his right as he moved further, the men standing behind Haircut were now split almost down the middle, half pointing guns at Bucky, half pointing guns at Wade.
"And what the fuck would that be?" Haircut asked. Cocking the shot gun he was holding. Bucky licked his lips.
"You think a goody two shoes would send us after you? You think we're just here to talk?" Bucky asked, scoffing, he couldn't help himself. He saw a few of the men behind Haircut swallow hard, their hands beginning to shake.
"You think we just locked the door to have some privacy?" Bucky asked.
"It is nice to have privacy for what comes next. To be fair." Wade said, breaking his odd silence finally. Bucky nodded, his eyes not leaving the man with the shotgun.
"What comes next? There's two of you." The man scoffed, the laughter that echoed through the men behind him was now shaky, at best. Bucky smiled, letting his foot slide further across the floor.
"Yeah." He glanced at Wade, saw him smirk.
"It hardly seems fair." Bucky finished, grabbing the knife out of his belt quickly. He threw it, hard, sending it spinning toward the group. The man pulled the trigger as Bucky and Wade dove for cover behind the spaced out pallets. Bucky crashed to the ground and kicked himself backwards til his shoulders slammed into whatever was on the palette nearest. The air was full of gunfire. His shoulder was throbbing. He grimaced and looked down, his arm was bleeding. He sighed, dropped his head back once, hard, and then took a deep breath.
"You good Wade?" He called over the noise.
"All good! You?" Came Wade's answer. Bucky looked at the blood trickling down his arm and sighed.
"I'm good." He said, his voice dropping as the gunfire quieted.
"It seem fair now? Huh, you little shit!?" Haircut called, firing a few more shots at Bucky's hiding spot.
"Depends." Bucky says, adjusting himself to a crouch.
"My knife hit that idiot with the bright yellow jacket?" Bucky asks, pulling his gun out, checking the chamber again, force of habit. There's a long pause before Haircut answers.
"Yeah. He's dead." Bucky smirked, cracked his neck, and pressed his finger agaisnt the trigger.
"Then yeah, I'm good with it." Bucky says, shrugging though he knows they can't see him. He hears them muttering, peeks over the top of the stacked pallet and sees them all huddled together, all of them looking over their shoulders off an on, looking like junkies on the corner waiting for a fix.
"Wade." Bucky calls, smiling when the murmurs cease.
"Yes darling?" Wade calls back.
"After you!" Bucky says, he hears Wade laugh and then the air explodes.
It all blurs together. The noise, the bullets, the knives, and the blood. Wade and Bucky move through them like a well oiled machine. Their backs pressed together for a moment as Bucky rolls over him, shoving his gun under some guys chin and firing before rolling to the side. He shoves a knife through someone's knee, wrapping his arm around their neck as they fall and yanking, their neck snapping. He has his hand on someone else's throat before the body hits the ground.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He hears Wade yell, fires his gun into a man's chest twice and turns to look. Wade is pointing to some guy, standing off to the side.
"He's got a fucking machete!" Wade yells, looking to Bucky.
"Who the FUCK brings a machete to a gun fight?!" Wade asks, firing both his guns into the men groaning at his feet.
"You bring swords to gun fights all the fucking time!" Bucky yells, grabbing a gun that's shoved in his face and twisting, turning the man's arm back on himself and firing his own gun into his stomach three times.
"Okay first of all! That is not the same!!" Wade yells back, sounding offended, Bucky laughs and ducks an empty gun that's thrown at his head. He locks eyes with the guy who threw it, cracking his neck and smiling as the man screams when he walks toward him.
"It's almost exactly the same thing!?" Bucky shouts, grabbing the screaming man's shirt and slamming his metal fist into his face three or four times until he goes limp. He hears Wade gasp and glances back, he's fighting the man with the machete now, using his empty gun to deflect the blows.
"It is completely different and you know it!" He yells, now throwing his empty gun at the man in front of him before stumbling back a few steps. Bucky turns, about to try and get to Wade, when he's grabbed from behind. He spins easily out of the man's grasp, grabbing the hand at his neck and snapping it backwards. He grabs a knife from his boot and shoves it into the man's throat, his scream turning to gurgling as he choked on his own blood.
"OOOW! YOU MOTHER FUCKER!" Wade's pained voice turns Bucky's head again, he sees Wade on his knees, the man with the machete standing over him, Wade's right arm is laying on the ground next to him. Bucky's arm shoots out from his side, grabbing the man trying to rush him as he's distracted, he glares at him before looking back to Wade, digging in his jacket for another knife as the man struggles in his grasp.
"Hey Wade!" Bucky calls, smiling as he watches Wade junk punch the guy in front him and grab the machete as he drops it. Wade rounds on him, the eyes on his mask looking wild.
"Don't you fucking say it!" He screams, pointing the machete at Bucky. Bucky flips the knife in his hand, holding it by the blade now before drawing it back over his shoulder.
"Need a hand?" He calls, throwing the knife with ease, wiggling his eyebrows at Wade as it embeds itself in machete guys head. Wade does, what is effectively a quadruple take, before stopping on Bucky.
"You absolute fucking peice of shit!" He says, his voice nearly cracking. Bucky watches him spin, bringing the machete he's now holding down into the shoulder of some guy behind him. Bucky smiles, presses his fingers into the struggling man's throat until he stops moving, and drops him.
They clear the warehouse quickly. A few moans here and there as they walk over the bodies left in their wake. Bucky fires one shot into anyone moving or making noise. Wade is carrying his own arm by his side, looking put out. Bucky hears stumbling foot steps to his left. He grabs a gun off the floor, points and pulls the trigger twice without looking, dropping the gun when he hears the body crumple to the floor.
"Jesus." He hears Wade breathe. Bucky stands, wiping the knives he'd retrieved on his pants, and looks at Wade, his eyes wide.
"What?" He asks. Wade stares at him.
"What?" He asks again, louder.
"You have no right looking that fucking innocent after what just happened here. You just shot a dude without even looking, hot, by the way, that one's now permanently in the spank bank, so thanks for that." Wade rambled.
"And then, you're standing there, pulling knives outta dudes, wiping blood on your pants, gunshot wound to the arm, and you look at me with these wide innocent eyes. It's ridiculous!!" Wade said, waving his arm around like it's a prop and not his own severed arm. Bucky furrows his brow and looks down at himself, his hands are covered in blood, the shoulder of his jacket is torn from the shot gun fire he'd taken. He looks back to Wade.
"I'm...sorry?" He asks, not sure if it's really a question.
"It's fine." Wade huffs, and Bucky knows if both his arms were where they should be, he'd have his hands on his hips. Bucky rolls his eyes and spots another knife. He moves forward, boots slipping a little on the blood covered floor. Now this, he thinks to himself as he wraps his wet fingers around the hilt of the knife and removes it from the dead man's neck, is a bloodbath. He wipes the knife on his pants and stows it away.
"Did he want us to like... take anything?" Wade asks, toeing at the body he's standing next to before looking down at his armless shoulder with a sigh.
"Naw. Just wanted 'em dead. And for us to leave this." Bucky said, shaking his head and giving the bodies another once over before reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a blood red envelope and looks around at the bodies, a little sound coming out of him when he finds what he wants. He walks over to Haircuts body, turns him over, and places the corner of the envelope into the mans mouth. Bucky steps back, looking at the morbid obelisk now standing in the center of the room full of blood and bullets. He sighs and looks down at his feet, the blood spattered yellow jacket catching his attention. He shoves his boot under the body and flips it, easily.
"Oooh! There you are." He says, bending down and yanking the knife out of Yellow Jacket's chest with a sickening squelch. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to take the knives, he could leave them. But he loved his knives, a lot, Wade would say too much, but then Wade was notoriously jealous, he'd told Bucky that himself. When he was sure he'd gotten them all he moved toward Wade, patting his shoulder as he sighed again.
"What's in it?" Wade asks, nodding to the envelope.
"No idea. Didn't seem like a good idea to open it." Bucky said, shrugging.
"Well aren't you well behaved." Wade teased, bumping his shoulder into Bucky and immediately groaning at the pain.
"Only when I'm in a good mood." Bucky said, giving Wade an unsettling toothy grin, Wade snorted and turned toward the door.
"Oh. One more thing. Gun." He said, holding his hand out and wiggling his fingers. Wade pulled his gun from the holster and sat it gently in Bucky's hand.
"Oh great. You're gonna shoot me now aren't you? Gonna put me down like a dog. It'll grow back I promise! I can still be useful!!" Wade begged, pawing at Bucky's shoulder. Bucky snorted and shoved him away, the blood on his hand feeling sticky against Wade's shoulder.
"Not you. Them." He said, motioning the gun toward the cameras lining the walls.
"Ooooh okay yeah no that makes more sense." Wade nodded.
"Yeah. Besides. If I shoot you, I have to carry you back, and you're not exactly light weight. Even without the arm." Bucky says turning away from him to hide a smile as Wade gasps behind him.
"That was so mean." He says, voice small.
"I think you'll get over it. Now," he paused, turning back to Wade.
"Take a bow." He says, smiling brightly. Wade looks at him for a moment and then Bucky sees the lightbulb go off. Bucky moves to stand next to him, clicking his heels together as he stops, raising his arms, and the gun in his hand, above his head. His shoulder throbbing as it moves.
"Thank you for watching gentlemen, and ladies, and others." Wade said, his voice full of drama, sounding like a ringleader at a circus.
"We hope you enjoyed the show!" Bucky said, bowing in synch with Wade, both of them dropping their heads low before moving smoothly back up. Bucky smiled, pointing the gun at the nearest camera, he winked and pulled the trigger.
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gender-neutral reader insert
Reader x Kim Jungwoo
🖤 warnings: discussions of past emotional abuse by a partner, elements of anxiety 🖤
connect with me! / masterlist
It’s always disorienting to wake up in the middle of the night, tangled in the blankets and unsure of the time.
Honestly, that special kind of disorientation is your least favorite thing. But when you’d fallen asleep with someone beside you, and wake up without anyone, it’s even worse. You sit up, hazy and rubbing sleep from your eyes, trying to suppress the requisite bolt of panic that’s shooting through your chest, painful like you’ve swallowed something sharp.
He left without saying goodbye?
Why does this keep happening?
But this isn’t – this is Jungwoo, you remind yourself. He wouldn’t do that. You manage to bring yourself down from full fear to a gentle simmer of malcontent, just in time for your door to open and a slim figure to slip inside.
“Hey, what’re you doing up?” Jungwoo asks, as he shuts the door gently behind him.
You blink at him in the dim light of your novelty Apeach nightlight, as he shucks off the hoodie thrown over the worn-out shorts he wears to sleep.
“You’re still here,” you say, before your brain can catch the thought and throw it away.
“I went to the bathroom,” Jungwoo replies, sounding a bit confused, “But I’m still here.”
The two of you are speaking softly, but whether Jungwoo whispered first or if he’s just matching your own hesitant quiet, you’re not sure. His expression is concerned, and it makes you wonder what kind of face you’re making.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
You don’t really know what to say. The truth is ridiculous, and this relationship is really new. It doesn’t seem like the right time to unload a bunch of emotional stuff on Jungwoo, not now, at – you glance at your phone, charging by the bed – nearly three in the morning on a Sunday.
“Yeah,” you say, and even you can hear how unconvincing you sound, “Yeah, I just don’t like…waking up…alone.”
Jungwoo’s face falls, and immediately, you feel like the queen of all assholes. It’s not his fault, not even a little bit, but you can’t help how you feel.
“It’s not – I would explain but it’s weird and a long story and stuff,” you say. “But I’m not mad at you.”
“I don’t think you’re mad at me. But I do want to know,” Jungwoo says, matter-of-fact.
“I’m not trying to scare you off this quickly,” you joke half-heartedly.
“If you think explaining your feelings is gonna scare me off, then I’m not doing a very good job being the boyfriend,” Jungwoo replies.
He sits down on the mattress, cross-legged and facing you, careful not to sit on your legs under the blankets. You fidget, but Jungwoo just looks at you evenly.
“It’s not that I mind waking up alone,” you say, eventually. “But if someone was there when I went to sleep, and then I wake up and they’re not there, it’s…”
“Not good,” Jungwoo guesses.
“Why?” he prods.
“People aren’t supposed to talk about their exes a lot, in a new relationship,” you complain.
“I asked. I want to know.”
You sigh. “I guess…sometimes it takes distance and time to understand exactly how much old relationships fuck you up, right?”
“Right,” he agrees.
“My last ex used to, like…” you pause, frustrated, “He used to do this thing…”
“Is it really bad?” Jungwoo asks.
You can guess what he’s hinting at. “Nothing, um, unsavory? Just not nice.”
His voice, always soft and gentle, is barely audible, like he’s giving all the metaphorical space over to you. He just sits there, chin in hand and elbow on leg, looking at you but not quite staring.
“He used to come over in the evening, and then he’d leave in the middle of the night,” you tell him.
“Why?” Jungwoo asks, understandably confused.
“Just to be an asshole,” you say. “He would…fuck, okay, he would like, make me convince him to come over? Like, I would have to beg, kind of.”
“What – what-” Jungwoo sputters, “That’s incredibly fucked up?”
“I know you know, but I had to say it!” Jungwoo says.
One of his hands moves down to rest on your ankle under the duvet, just gentle warm weight against you. You’re not even sure if he’s trying to ground you or himself, but you appreciate it either way.
“So he’d make me beg him to come visit. Maybe like once a month, if I was lucky. And then as soon as I fell asleep, he would get out of bed and get ready to leave,” you say. “Sometimes I would wake up on my own, and he’d be gone.”
“Which is bad enough,” Jungwoo murmurs.
You nod. “And other times, he would wake me up. I used to think it was an accident, but now I think it was on purpose. He’d wake me up so I had to watch him go. And no matter what I said, he would always leave.”
Jungwoo doesn’t say anything more than that, just sitting here with his palm resting on your leg, looking thoughtfully in your direction.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” you say, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, hoping to high hell that Jungwoo doesn’t think you’re crazy. “It just bothers me, sometimes, still. I didn’t mention it because-”
“It’s fine, you know. That it bothers you. It would bother me too,” Jungwoo interrupts.
He scoots up the bed more, nudging you to the side so that he can settle back down next to you. He stays on top of the covers, as if leaving you some protection after baring so much (albeit metaphorically) to him.
“It’s not fine that he did that,” he adds. “That’s not fine.”
“This doesn’t mean you can’t, like, go to the bathroom,” you say. “It freaked me out a little but it had nothing to do with you.”
“I can handle it. I know that you’re different.”
Jungwoo nods, sinking back onto the pillow beside you. “I know.”
You’re not sure why you’re still trying to convince him, but you say, “I trust you.”
He smiles this time. “I know.”
The blankets rustle and you can vaguely see Jungwoo leaning toward you in the dark, and a pair of lips smack a kiss gently to your temple nearest him.
“Thanks for tellin’ me,” he says, voice already muffled with sleep as he settles back in, “I’ll be careful, okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, “Yeah, thanks.”
Jungwoo rolls over onto his side so that his head rests against your shoulder, and within moments, he’s out again, dead to the world. He’s always so quick to fall asleep. You’re kind of jealous of it, since you know you’re going to be laying here for a while until you knock out, too.
You’re not entirely sure why your eyes are misty as you listen to Jungwoo’s even breathing, reliable inhale and exhale right next to your ear, but you can make a pretty good guess.
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Please wash your grapes (even if you’re tired)
I think we all remember our excitement when Booboo uploaded this picture on his instagram. Well, I went and wrote a fic about it.
This is for @iti-iskuna because she gave me the idea and I love her and @willexxmercer because they’re our local Booboo simp and I also love her!! Also thanks to @sunsetcurbed for beta reading, I love you too!! /p
so here you go, have fun reading it!!
Please wash your grapes (even when you’re tired) - 1.8k taglist and AO3 link in the reblog
“No – Luke, no, I won’t – no, shut up!” Alex stops in front of the door, groaning in annoyance. “I have finals coming up but I won’t leave the band for it, stop – no, stop accusing me of that!” He pushes his hand in his jeans pocket, rummaging for his key while listening to Luke’s angry rambling.
“– and you always leave early and –“ Luke continues but Alex, having pushed his key into the lock, interrupts him.
“You know what, Luke? Shut up! It’s 11:30, I’m tired as shit. Good night!” He pulls his phone away from his face and cuts Luke’s rushed rambling off by pressing the red button on his screen so hard it hurts his thumb. He groans again and leans forward, leaning his forehead against the cold surface of the door.
Fuck Luke, honestly. He and his music filled head can get too dense sometimes, not allowing him or his bandmates a life outside their band. Everything is always about it, but it seems like it gets worse when finals season is around.
He has to understand that they all have bachelor’s degrees to work on and jobs to pay their rent and groceries with and don’t have the time to have band practice every day. Alex really doesn’t get how he has the headspace to think about the band so much on top of his everyday life. Normally he would admire him for it but tonight he’s just so tired, he has a massive headache from studying and just really wants today to be over with.
The key turns in its lock and the door opens. He leaves the stuffy hallway behind and is welcomed by the familiar air of his apartment. Comfort fills his chest and clears his head almost immediately. Spotting Willie's vans that are lying awkwardly next to their shoe shelf helps too. Coming home after a long day really is an underappreciated feeling.
The apartment is quiet apart from the systematic ticking of their clock in the kitchen, tick-tock-ticking its way into Alex’s blood stream, calming his last nerve. When they first got it he was so sure it would annoy him all the time, but now it serves as the rhythm underlying all of his Willie's actions. It’s comforting to hear it after such a busy day.
He’s spent almost all of it at the library. He went there first thing in the morning, leaving with not much more than a bite into an apple and a kiss to Willie's cheek, before rushing to get the bus. He only left the library to get a sandwich for his, probably much too short, lunch and dinner breaks, texting in the group chat that he wouldn’t make it to band practice today, because Kant was kicking his butt.
But that’s where the mess with Luke started. He wouldn’t stop bugging him about it until just five minutes ago, so far, that Alex had to turn his phone off to not be disturbed anymore.
He kicks off his own shoes, bending down to put them into their appropriate place and placing Willie's next to them.
The lights in their small hallway are turned off, so Willie is probably already in bed. He doesn’t want to wake him, so he walks into the kitchen quietly, avoiding the squeaky floorboard. He carefully drops his backpack next to the kitchen table, zipping it open to get his reusable coffee mug out. He needs to clean it so he can use it again tomorrow. He won’t get around another full day of studying, exams are edging closer and he feels very much not prepared.
He passes the fruit basket on his way to the sink. He plucks off a grape, rubbing it on his shirt before popping it into his mouth, too lazy to wash a single one. He listens to the ticking of the clock while he cleans his mug, letting the sweet juice of the grape fill his mouth, washing away the numb taste of chewing on his lip and not drinking enough. He doesn’t bother drying the mug, just places it unscrewed and upside down on the counter, putting a spoon underneath to let it air dry.
He turns around and leans back against the counter. He can feel his eyes drooping dangerously. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him but he’s glad it’s happening now and not during his study session.
He plucks off another grape on his way out of the kitchen and just eats it straight away without even rubbing it against his shirt. He’s too tired to care.
Brushing his teeth is absolute torture. He feels his limbs growing heavier with every passing second, his eyes dropping closed more often and he stubs his toe against the bath getting a new towel from the cupboard. He’s a mess and he needs to sleep.
He stumbles around the bathroom, changing out of his shirt and jeans and into a hoodie and pajama shorts. His legs may get warm while sleeping but his torso really doesn’t, it doesn’t matter how much Willie clings to his back at night.
Yawning, he flicks off the bathroom light, slouching through the hallway until he reaches their bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, the faint glow of Alex’s bedside lamp, that Willie always keeps on when he goes to bed before Alex, casting soft shadows on the carpet. Soft snoring noises are coming from the inside. He pushes the door open carefully, quiet enough to not wake his boyfriend.
He steps through the doorframe, turning off the hallway lights and closing the door behind him before turning around and finally facing his bed, the place he has longed for for too many hours of this day.
He stops in his tracks at the sight in front of him.
Willie is asleep, yes, but he probably didn’t plan to be. He’s laying in bed, sweatpants low around his hips, his chest bare and an arm placed in front of his body, as if he’d been pushing himself up on it and laid down for just a second, just to rest his eyes. There are ring binders and papers and books strewn all across the sheets, half opened, a pen still clutched in his other hand and one, two highlighters tucked beneath a folder. He has his hair tied back in a French braid, strands escaping and laying featherlight on his skin. His face is completely lack of tension, his eyebrows smoothed out and his jaw unclenched, and he looks so, so relaxed, like he hasn’t in a while.
Affection blooms in Alex’s chest, bubbles up in his stomach, and he feels his cheeks grow warm. His fingers itch to be closer to him, to take away his stress and keep him so blissful for as long as he needs to be.
His eyes trace the smooth lines of his body, his back, his shoulders. They focus on the dark tattoos etched into his skin, the small ghost riding a skateboard on his ribs, a line from his favorite song on his lower arm, a drumstick on his wrist. Alex blinks slowly, taking in the familiar picture of him, the one he’s seen so many times but could look at forever.
He steps closer slowly, the sound of his socked feet muffled on the carpet. He reaches the bed and wishes for nothing more than to just crawl inside, pull him closer and fall asleep right next to him, not a worry in the world. But he won’t enjoy waking up between crinkled papers tomorrow, a pen poking into his back and the letters of Willie's books printed on his cheek. So, he starts picking the stuff up, placing it onto the floor next to him, trying to keep the order he remembers seeing on Willie's desk, to make it easier for him to continue his studying tomorrow. He closes the last book, keeping one of the pens inside to hold the page, before sitting down on the mattress next to Willie.
He sits and stares for a minute, watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, soft breaths escaping him. Alex lifts his hand to Willie's face, brushes a soft strand behind his ear, settling his palm on his cheek and stroking his cheekbone with a gentle thumb.
Willie stirs slightly at the touch, his eyes blinking open. His gaze finds Alex’s and a tired smile grows on his lips.
“Hey,” he greets him, his voice deep, sleep pushing down on it. He moves his arm closer, the back of his hand pushing against the side of Alex thigh. A finger dips beneath the seam of his shorts, his knuckle stroking his skin softly. “You’re home.”
“Yeah,” Alex answers, keeping his voice quiet. He watches Willie's eyes droop closed again and he takes his hand, squeezing a little, before letting go. “Go back to sleep, Sweetheart.”
Willie chuckles a little, keeping his eyes closed but patting the space next to him.
“Come,” he whispers. “Please.”
Alex can’t help but smile. He shifts his position, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss onto Willie's forehead. Willie moves his head, pushing closer into Alex’s space, his fingers closing around the sleeve of Alex’s hoodie.
“Stay,” he whispers, even more quiet than before, and who is Alex not to comply.
He toes off his socks and pulls his legs up onto the bed, pulling the blanket from around their feet and over them both. He leans back finally, his head settling into the pillow, his left arm outstretched.
Willie pushes closer immediately, placing his head on Alex shoulder and snaking his arm around his midriff, warm and heavy. He shifts until his whole body is pressed up against him, his legs tangling with Alex’s, wanting – needing – to be as close as possible, melting into his side like he belongs there. He does, Alex, thinks, as he pulls him in, letting his left hand ghost over Willie's bare shoulders. It causes goosebumps and Alex pulls the blanket up a little higher.
Willie presses a kiss against his shoulder.
“I missed you,” he tells him, his voice soft and distant, already dipping into sleep.
Alex feels warmth go through his entire body and he squeezes him.
“I missed you, too,” he answers him, his own voice slipping away, kissing the top of Willie's head and smiling against it, when he feels him snuggling closer.
Coming into his apartment after a long day of studying, feeling the comfort of the familiar environment melt away the stress and headaches, is a feeling of coming home that Alex never appreciates enough.
But this. Being half asleep in bed, his love pressed impossibly close to him. His head pillowed in the soft sheets and Willie's on his chest. Their legs tangled together and their arms around each other. The distant ticking of their clock, the anticipation of waking up tomorrow, still as close as they are now. That is a feeling of coming home that Alex will never get used to and that he will love forever.
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All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 15
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist
Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.
Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.
He happens to love them back.
Find it on Ao3
             
Almost a year into their relationship, Martin's lease comes up.
There's brief romantic talk of them all moving in together, but they're all attached to their own spaces, especially with Gerry needing to keep his art studio, and it trails off without any real resolution.
When Martin's landlord doesn't want to renew and he essentially has no choice but to find a new place to live, he panics.
Jon is with him when he opens the letter, and witnesses the heartbreak on his face, a look far more appropriate to the death of a loved one than to having to move house.
He understands though. This is Martin's first home. The first rent he paid, the first freedom he claimed. The first place he had whispered 'I love you' to Jon, and the first place Gerry had pressed his lips to Martin's.
Jon is settled in his own flat in a more practical way. It's close to the library, Gerry's bar and also to Martin's bookstore, but he still understands Martin's heartache, even if it is detached from his scope of personal attachment.
As Jon takes the time to think things through, he knows they're being silly. When was the last time he had commuted to work from his own flat? And if Martin had to move anyway, why shouldn't the three of them be living together? Gerry would happily spend every spare second with them and frequently tells them so.
At their knock, Gerry opens the door in a pair of leather pants and not much else, hair faded out from navy to a soft violet.
He physically reacts to see Martin tear-stained and Jon frowning intensely at his side.
"Why tears? Who do I need to murder?" Gerry mutters darkly as he draws Martin inside and into his arms.
"He has to move out of his flat," Jon tells him angrily, still standing in the doorway.
"Oh, love." He whispers, rocking Martin gently.
"It's so stupid to cry about it. It's just a shitty little flat." He hiccups into Gerry's chest.
"Fuck that. We all know better than that. That flat was important to you," Gerry retreats further into the studio, dragging his weepy partner with him and leaving Jon to shut the door. "And you're important to us, so here's the plan. Gertrude and I are gonna dig up some dirt, we're gonna have a little chat with your landlord, and he's gonna agree to sell you your flat. Problem solved."
Martin laughs wetly as he is deposited in the cushion pile and Gerry follows him down to sit in front of him and take his hands.
Jon strips his jacket and scarf off and tosses them on the couch (the biggest indication of his upset, really, as he normally always meticulously hangs things up), before flopping down on the floor with them. Martin and Gerry offer a hand each, and they sit in a triangle, connected.
"Gerry, you can't blackmail my landlord into selling me my flat." Martin starts, voice still choked with tears, "Not least of all because I can't afford to buy it anyway. I already have a business loan, not to mention all the debt from before my mother died."
Apparently able to sense any great excess of emotion, Luna and Saturn wander in and both attempt to curl up in Martin's lap. Jon takes Saturn, leaving Luna to her tearful human. Martin smiles gratefully and disentangles his hands to pet behind her ears.
There's silence for a moment as they consider Martin's words. Gerry opens his mouth, closes it, then decides to say what he wants to anyway. "I could lend you the money. Or give it to you. Whichever you prefer."
The look on his face could be accurately described as casually angelic, and he reaches out a hand to stroke Saturn benevolently.
Martin and Jon stare at him, stunned.
"What do you mean?" Jon eventually prods him, incredulously.
Gerry opens his mouth to respond, but Jon senses the sass coming and adds, "A real answer please," rather firmly.
"Fine then," Gerry mutters, rolling his pretty teal eyes. "I have some money in savings. And in investments and stuff, I'm not actually irresponsible, despite what my appearance might imply. And the years I spent galivanting about the county. And Europe." He shrugs, rambling on, "Okay, maybe I am irresponsible."
His partners stare at him for a moment, then exchange a look.
“Define some money?” Jon says, poking him in the ribs. Gerry tells them.
“What!?” At Jon’s exclamation, Gerry blushes from the roots of his hair, and all the way down his bare chest.
"Where did you get it?" Martin finally asks.
"From selling my paintings?" Gerry responds, but it comes out as a question, and he rubs his burning neck in embarrassment.
"And," Jon says, voice carefully neutral; having regained some sense of composure, "why do you keep your job at the bar if you have enough money to casually offer to buy Martin a flat?"
"Don't feel left out Jon, I'll buy your flat too." Gerry offers, smiling at him beatifically.
"Gerry…" Martin lets out his name in the significant tone of voice that lets him know this is a 'serious conversation'™ and to get his shit together.
"Okay, okay," Gerry flaps his hands uncomfortably. "At first it was just because I was convinced that the painting money was gonna dry up and I didn't want to be left in the lurch. I've always operated anonymously and that made it hard to make money as an artist, it was only when Gertrude joined the crusade that I found any success. She insisted that people would buy prints online, and she was right. The digital art and prints were really popular, and it led to people wanting the originals." Gerry pauses and shakes his head in disbelief. "And Gertrude always has to be extra about everything, so she sold them at fucking auction instead of pricing them, which made me seem edgy and exclusive."
"You are edgy and exclusive," Jon interrupts to insist, a slight petulant edge staining his voice.
"Thanks," Gerry mutters, still blushing. "Anyway, so then I had all this money, but I was convinced it wouldn't last and now it's been years and it's only gotten worse and I was panicking so Gertrude took half the money and helped me put it into investments, which have mostly been pretty successful too, so now I have all this fucking money that I don't know what to do with, so Martin, would you like a flat?" Gerry ends his monologue slightly hysterical and Martin laughs out loud at the slight desperation in his voice.
"Do you even own this flat? I've been wondering how you could possibly afford it." Martin asks him, gesturing around at the massive space in one of the most up-and-coming parts of London.
"Yes, it's one of the only significant things I've ever actually paid for with the art money. You know, to do art in."
"And were you ever planning to mention this?" Jon queries, sounding slightly put out. He frowns down at the cat, instead of his ridiculous boyfriend. Saturn decides at that moment that he's had enough belly-rubs, and without warning, sinks his claws in, bites Jon's hand and then scurries off. Jon glares at his fluffy black tail as it disappears up the stairs and Gerry tries very hard not to laugh at him.
"Jonathan!" Martin scolds him, pushing his shoulder gently to regain his attention. "Gerry doesn't have to tell us about his finances."
Jon pouts even harder.
"Jon's right, I should have said something. I just didn't want it to be a big deal." Gerry responds, voice quiet and unusually reserved. He looks a little adrift and helpless, and they can see just how uncomfortable the money talk has made him.
Jon sighs and dislodges the stick from up his ass. "It's not a big deal, love, I'm only surprised. I'm glad it's out the way now." He collects Gerry's hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
Gerry relaxes and tugs Jon closer to kiss him, before offering the same to Martin.
They all sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, digesting the day's many revelations.
“Not that I’m not incandescently happy to see you both, but why did you actually come over?” Gerry asks eventually.
“Oh,” Martin sits up straighter, remembering their original objective. He looks down at the cat in his lap, stroking its back in an effort to distract himself. “It’s a little awkward actually.”
Gerry raises his eyebrows, thinking of what could make Martin feel awkward after all the things they’ve done together, occasionally right where they are currently sitting.
"Do tell." Gerry urges him. Martin and Jon share a look. Gerry rolls his eyes at the pair of them. "Come on, guys, whatever it is, just tell me. It can't possibly be that bad. Unless you're breaking up with me? Because fuck that."
"No, Gerry," Jon says, sounding amused. "The opposite."
"The opposite?" Gerry asks, frowning.
"Yes, the opposite," Jon tells him more firmly. "We were thinking," Martin makes a small nose at this, "that is, I was thinking, that since Martin has to move anyway, the three of us should finally take the plunge."
"You know," Gerry mutters peevishly, "I love riddles as much as the next overdramatic goth with a young adult book obsession, but could you please spit it the fuck out."
"Jonthinksweshouldallmoveintogetherhere." Martin finally rushes out, breathlessly.
"Martin, baby, those are separate words."
He takes a deep breath and tries again. "Jon thinks we should all move in together, here, with you."
Gerry sits up taller abruptly, a wide grin spreading over his handsome face. "What, really? You actually want to."
"Well, yes," Jon says, although his voice still sounds nervous.
"Okay great. Luna and Saturn are gonna love this." Gerry jumps up excitedly. "So I know you guys like having your own personal space, and I always have my art shit everywhere, but I've been thinking and I think we can make you both comfortable here too."
Martin and Jon share a perplexed look at Gerry's sudden frenetic burst of energy.
"We'll be comfortable here no matter what," Martin rushes to reassure him.
"Hush," Gerry speaks over him. "We both know you're just saying that because you feel like an inconvenience. But you're not and we all have to make this our home. Come, come on, I want to show you."
Gerry grabs a hand from each of them and drags them behind him and around and under the wide stairs that lead up to the loft space.
He leads them to two doors under the stairs, leading them into one. It's a large storeroom, technically, and Gerry has filled it with extra paint, canvases of many different sizes, and a plethora of other painting supplies. There aren't any windows, and the industrial light makes the space look stark. The scent of oil paint and turpentine is pervasive, but homey since those are things they associate heavily with Gerry himself.
"They're both the same. I've been thinking that if you two ever did want to move in here, you could take one each. A creative space just for yourselves, or your own bedrooms if you need some space once in a while. If you want them." His typical self-confidence is slightly lacking, the nervous twist of his fingers belaying his nerves at the admission.
"Oh Gerry," Martin says with something akin to wonder in his voice.
"But aren't you using them?" Jon asks, never one to let romanticism come in the way of practicality.
Gerry shrugs, "I've been thinking of having cupboards installed in the studio space and moving all this in there anyway. It will be more convenient for me when I'm working and it will be worth it to have you here all the time."
Gerry pauses, brow furrowing. "I've also considered moving the art studio in here so you two don't have to trip over my art stuff all the time."
Martin and Jon both understand the significance of that offer, knowing that Gerry's favourite things about this place are the high ceilings, giant windows, and natural lighting at most times of the day and even at night.
"You would be willing to give up your art space for us?" Martin asks in some wonder.
"Well yeah, of course," Gerry says as if it's obvious. "We'll all have to share the bedroom then, but the living space will be bigger. Whatever you would prefer."
"Just like that?" Jon's blunt incredulity finally tips Gerry off to their shock.
"Oh come on. I obviously haven't been a very good boyfriend if you two don't already know that you're more important to me than painting." It was the most romantic thing Gerry could say to anyone, really.
Martin kisses him, tearing up again.
"What did I say? Don't cry, love." He reaches up to wipe the tears away, and Martin offers him a wobbly smile.
Jon goes over to kiss him too. "You love us more than art."
"We're going in circles here. Yes, I love you both more than literally anything." Gerry is starting to wonder if they're being obtuse on purpose.
"We love you too," Jon tells him emphatically.
"Of course you do. I'm delightful." They all dissolve into laughter at that, the weighty mood breaking with it.
"So do you think you'll both be happy here?" Gerry asks when the laughter has faded.
Even standing in the mildly dusty storeroom and breathing in paint fumes, Jon knows the answer already. "I think we might be able to make it work."
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Back again, on time(for the most part)
Next part of the fic!
Ft. Timb my beloved, anons, and a dose of angst >:]
“Wow. That’s some heavy shit.” Tubbo exhaled, leaning back in his chair. “No wonder-” he continued, “No wonder 5 looked so scared.”
“Yeah…” Fundy answered, sparing his sleeping boyfriend a glance. “I feel bad. He’s never really had to be involved with all of the heavy stuff, ya know? This feels like too much…” he trails off, looking back over at the computer. “Scott?” he says.
“Yes, Fundy?” the AI replies.
“How fast can we get everyone here? And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Titans, HIVE, Syndicate, vigilantes, maybe even Green Lantern Corps. Everyone.” The scientist says, leaning on the desk to watch the monitors as Scott runs numbers.
“Approximately one hour.” The AI says, smugly, if that were even possible.
“One hour.” Tubbo echoes. “We better get to work.”
One hour and seven minutes later, everyone who had been able to make it was there. The entirety of the Titans, as well as the HIVE, Tubbo, Ranboo, Phil, Niki, Tommy, Drista, Punz, Purpled, Eret, and Foolish.
“Alright everyone. We need to settle down now. This is important.” Tubbo said diplomatically. As expected, having heroes, anti-heroes and vigilantes in the same room being told not to flirt or fight does not end well for the person trying to get them to listen.
Everyone continued to talk, of course.
Quickly, Fundy stood up and pulled Tubbo out of the way to take his place at the head of the room. He cupped his hands around his mouth and took a deep breath.
“EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” He shouted, making eye contact with as many people as possible, staring them down, daring them to continue talking.
“Well, that worked.” Tubbo whispered, albeit slightly bitterly. He surveyed the room, Fundy at the head, with Scotts hologram at his right-hand side, ready to display whatever was needed. 5up was once again awake, curled up like a cat in Tubbo’s desk chair, sitting behind Fundy. In a very bedraggled circle sat everyone else. As Tubbo watched, a thought struck him.
‘This is very reminiscent of those ghosts… the first time we met them truly. They disappeared after that. I wonder where they went…’
Little did he know.
“Timb!!! We need to get out of here now!!” said Hockey, breathing heavily as they held the door closed with one of their hockey sticks through the handles of the door, making it impossible for the attackers to pull the door open without brute force. They held the door closed, watching Amber and Fencer barricade the door. It wouldn’t hold for long. Nug was pulling pieces of furniture from the cafe over to the door to block the glass.
“They’re right Timb, we need to get out of here.” said Fencer, sparing a glance over their shoulder to glance at Tell, who was looking unarguably stressed as they tried to figure out how to stop the ghost in the corner. “I don’t know how much longer we could be safe here.” she continued, closing-
“‘I don’t know how much longer we could be safe here.’ she continued, closing their eyes to take a deep breath.”
-their eyes to take a deep breath.
Tell stood up from where she had been crouched, taking a moment to figure out what to do. She marched towards Timb, stopping to help Nug move a large table to the doorway, before continuing on and stopping in front of the two.
“I don’t know what to do!” she whisper-yelled, stressed beyond belief. “I don’t know how to stop them!” She pointed towards Hayden, who was floating in a corner, narrating. “I don’t know what to do!!” Fencer opened their mouth to give a suggestion, but was quickly stopped by Timb, who raised a hand for them to stop before floating forwards to float right in front of Tell.
“I have a plan,” they said, calmly. “I have a plan, but it is a long shot. And dangerous.” They spread their arms, showing the room. “Sadly, all of this has to happen. We have to freeze this timeline to keep it safe.” They frowned, seeing Tell start to open her mouth to object. Once again, they held out a hand to stop her. “It is the only way. Fencer,” They said sharply, turning to face the ghost on their right hand side. “Gather everyone in this room. Now. Tell. When Fencer brings everyone back, I need you to bring Amber, Nug and Hockey over to the circle of power. Only do this when everyone else is here. We need to delay the attackers as much as possible. Go.” Both nodded, running off to tell everyone what to do. Timb floated into the middle of the room, calling out for Narwhal. “I need you to bring Hayden over here to complete the circle, understood?” Narwhal nodded, running off to retrieve the narrating ghost.
When they got over there, they grabbed Haydens wrist, pulling them over to where Timb was standing. They gave a small smile before turning to-
“‘They gave a small smile before turning to look at the gathering ghosts. ‘That’s super fucking creepy.’ they said, eyes wide as they linked hands with the narrating ghost.” Hayden said, pure black eyes glitching as they narrated the Askers downfall.
-look at the gathering ghosts. “That’s super fucking creepy.”’ they said, eyes wide as they linked hands with the narrating ghost.
“Alright,” Timb said, looking at each anon gathered in the circle with linked hands, a space left for the three guarding the door. “Here’s the plan. Because of Hayden over here, there’s probably only a few minutes left until we have firepower right in our faces. So we’re going to freeze the timeline.” They stopped for a moment to gauge everyones reactions. Many mouths were hanging open. “It’s dangerous, but it’s the only way. There are consequences, though. But in the end, we will end up where we need to be. Everybody be prepar-”
“‘-Three, Two, One, NOW!’”
No one had been paying attention to the storyteller.
“NOW!” Timb screamed, as the last members joined the circle of power, leaving all defenses down. A calming blue light filled the room before-
“‘Three, Two, One, FIRE AT WILL!’”
-everyone was teleported away, leaving the blast frozen in midair as their home was set to be inevitably destroyed.
“Here’s the quick version everybody,” Fundy said, looking out across the room. “Me and 5up were on a date, when a rip in time appeared in front of us- hold on Sam, let me finish. Same goes for you, Dream- we were drawn over, and we were forced to watch as the world burned in flames as someone stood on the very building we were on, and laughed. To top it all off, those ghosts that scared the shit out of all of us a little while back, were all dead on the ground. There was a lot of blood and shrapnel.” he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “We ran to the Tower, but no one was home, so we came over to Tubbo’s house. Tubbo brought us in thinking that we were the people Sam had sent over to help Tubbo out, and showed us the prophecy that Scott is going to display.” Scott’s hologram glitched and disappeared for a moment, before returning with the prophecy displayed behind him.
A city of gold
Burned to the ground
The hands of a madman
Bearing its crown
One by one
Til’ the final verse is done
Everyone took a sharp intake of breath, coming to the same conclusion Fundy and 5up had.
“Tubbo and Scott found this at the same time we found the rip in time-” Fundy continued, before he was cut off by an anxious Sam.
“Guys-” Sam said, warily.
“Not now, Sam.” said Tubbo, rubbing his temples.
“Yes, now. Titans, we have to go. We just got a call. There's a massacre going on down at an old bowling alley turned cafe. We have to go, now.” Sam said, standing up quickly.
That’s it for this part! :)
Here’s a little bit of enlightenment for anything that may have been confusing.
So this has switching Timeline POVS, we started in the TT Universe/Timeline, and then went to the AHQ Universe/Timeline, and then back to the TT Universe/Timeline
I told everyone on discord that the list wasn’t a kill list :) for some reason they were still scared? smh
In the AHQ Timeline, my character was narrating what was going on, which is why some parts repeat
This is the first part of the fic where some of the timelines start to cross and merge
I did eventually manage to fix the accidental paradox I created XD
Good night everyone,
I’ll be back soon :D
I love this so much subzkahsbaj-
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So far AJ’s day, his first at this new job, had been predictably miserable. He figured that was sort of normal, kinda expected. He’d been his own boss, owner of his own little construction firm for years, so going back to being a manual labor grunt for someone else again was sure to feel like ten steps in the wrong direction. But working on a demo team for a bunch of girls? The women, the company that had put him out of business? That was turning out to be particularly soul-sucking and demeaning work. But, hey, a buck’s a buck and he needed as many of those as he could muster these days. His saving grace was, with a little effort keeping his head down, that he could remain faceless and anonymous and just do his work. The morning had been spent taking down some walls in the area of the building that was to be the new wing. He’d sat by himself for his meager lunch outside - his buddies, guys that used to work for him, were on another team entirely, at another site - and he had now this afternoon been asked to step into the doctor's office area to look at some venting. Privately, he leapt at the chance: maybe he’d be able to see Angie. Or, for that matter, catch a glimpse of - or even meet - that statuesque, brunette boss of hers, her friend Melissa...
He was in luck.
“Oh! H-hey, hun,” AJ said, acting surprised to bump into his girlfriend, Angie, as he turned the corner in the back hallway. He’d already checked out what he’d needed to see, looked at the thermostats, and had been sort of aimlessly drifting around, avoiding others, waiting for just this moment. He managed what he hoped was a casual smile. “Funny meeting you here haha,” he joked, wiping plaster dust from his forehead, “H-how’s the first day?”
At first, Angie looked surprised to see him, too - eyes widening. But she didn’t even give him a word of greeting before her eyes flashed, her smile grew into a grin, and she bit her lower lip. Looking behind herself, down the hall, checking if they’d be seen, she then suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his green, grime-covered t-shirt and pulled him aside. “Here, let’s go in here-“ she said, opening the door to a supply closet and yanking him into it. She shut the door behind them and flipped on a switch.
“Hey wow..!” AJ exclaimed, eyes immediately going wide in pleasant surprise, “Nice to see you too!”
The switch she had hit had turned on an overhead fluorescent, which was just flickering to life. “Shush,” she said, locking the door, “The last thing I need is someone to see us together.” She’d just gotten out of lunch, where all the office girls had assembled, crowded into the too-small breakroom for a welcome meeting. She’d had a few great little chats and was just really beginning to grasp what was going on here, what she was now part of. It was thrilling and her blood was still on fire from the excitement, the potential. Yes yes yes...female empowerment, sisters united, blah blah blah. But there was opportunity here for her.
She’d just been headed to her new temporary, makeshift desk in accounting when she ran into her, well, boyfriend. Though AJ was here doing some work for the construction company hired to renovate the building, she really didn’t want to be seen with him. Things were too big here, there was too much at stake for her to risk getting muddled down by, well, him. “I can’t be the girl dating the hired help,” she said, not smiling, but her heart still thumping.
“Hey, that hurt..!” AJ remarked, taken a bit aback by her bluntness but trying to laugh. Angie looked so good in her short, floral dress, boobs big and on display. “How’s the first day?” he repeated.
Angie faced AJ, mind still swimming with the excitement from the meeting and an electric, estrogen-fueled energy. “Eh, sort of chaotic, with all these new girls, there’s not enough space for us all until the new wing is ready,” she answered, looking him up and down. She’d seen him in his construction gear countless times before, but here - on the job, dirty, as a low-level grunt - he just looked so plebeian. And too tall. “I got to meet the doctor, this morning,” she said, feeling her eyes sparkle and the enthusiasm in her voice, “he’s sooo vulni…”
He’d heard that term before, and he knew how girls were all starting to like that: small, weak, vulnerable men. It had been why she’d had him stop going to the gym, eat less, get skinnier. He thought she liked it, though it never seemed as if it was quite enough for her; he was still tall and lanky, and he felt she’d actually like it if he was somehow smaller than her, shorter than her, weighed less than her. That was the fad, these days, and Angie was into it. But he’d never heard that weird tone in her voice when talking about another guy, not in all the months they’d been together. Here in the supply closet he felt the first pangs of jealousy, starting in his stomach, and it was envy for Angie’s new boss. Not because he was successful, a doctor, and was her superior here (though Ang probably loved that too), but because he was so “vulni” . As he watched her face, seeing how she talked about this guy, the sensation grew heavier, and worked its way up to his throat.
“He was hiding, totally hiding, in his office. But I went in and met him,” she said, “he looked like a kid sitting at a big-boy desk. He was afraid to stand up in front of me, but I bet I’d be taller than him in my heels…”
There it is, AJ thought.
“Your friend Melissa probably has him by more than a foot, then,” AJ blurted, smiling but speaking before thinking and immediately regretting it as Angie’s eyes narrowed, analyzing him. His grin disappeared as her expression changed.
“Yeaaaaah...have you noticed?” she continued, still watching his face, “a lot of the girls here are tall. They’re all hot…”
Smart enough at least for this moment, AJ held his tongue. Saying too much would just dig him deeper into the hole that he was apparently already in.
Angie still looked at her boyfriend of these many months, her smile crooked, and considered him. He’d always felt like she could read his mind, and seemed to be doing it now. She knew what he wanted. “Take off your shirt,” she instructed, hands on her wide hips.
Without as much as a thought, AJ was peeling himself out of his dusty work tee, revealing his trim, lean torso, his ink. Angie’s eyes immediately drifted from his still-defined abs, up his chest and went to the new tattoo on his throat, her name: “Angie Wade”. She reached out and gently caressed it.
“Yeah, he’s surrounded by women here, pretty women,” she continued, once again talking about this dude that AJ was starting to like less and less, “Lots of them are taller than him, walking around in their pumps, their high wedge sandals.” Her hand drifted up to cup the right side of his face, tenderly, watching how her words affected him. “They’re all ditzes, but they adore him,” she said, her expression still hard for him to read, “Imagine that? Imagine being surrounded by huge, brainless bimbos that all love and adore you and just want to get into your pants? I’ll bet he loves it. God that’s so hot.”
AJ, still knowing he shouldn’t say a word, just watched her as she looked at him. Despite his rising jealousy - what kind of girlfriend talks about another guy like this? - he was starting to feel himself hardening between his legs. He had no idea what she was thinking, what she was doing (or why she’d had him take off his shirt) but there were gears turning in her head, for sure.
“And,” she pressed on, “his office is smaller - a lot smaller - than hers. The way she was talking today, you’d have trouble knowing exactly who was in charge, here...” Angie’s left hand had settled behind AJ’s shaved head, holding it, and her right was now resting lightly on his chest. The feel of her soft palm on his shaved skin was exciting him. “...But I’m going to find out. There’s something going on under the surface here, something big. Here. Sit-“
At that, Angie pushed his chest, forcing him to half-sit back on the low shelving unit behind him. He knocked over a couple reams of paper towels, but was left with his eyes at just about boob-level.
She stepped in close.
“Lunch, with all the girls,” Angie continued, smiling again as his eyes settled right into her cleavage, “There was so much estrogen in the air, what with all the laughing and rah-rah cheering for this new place. Most of the girls here are morons, but damn if they aren’t hooked up to the right train, as things are going to be changing.”
She was talking almost to herself, he thought, while he knew he was being so passively quiet. He struggled to think of something to say. “Wow, Ang,” AJ finally spoke, “your tits look really big today.”
Angie chuckled, took a casually deep breath for him.”He’s a boob-guy, just like you,” she mused, reveling in the gift of her naturally big, full bosom, with its perfect, milky skin, “so, yeah, I wanted show them off…think he’ll like me?”
The jealousy continued to sit with him, inside his throat, tightening.
“Well, uh, y-yeah, of course,” he managed, figuring he should be supportive rather than risking her ire by sounding indignant. “Wh-what are they going to have you doing?”
“I’m going to be working with Kathy, this lady reassigned from some pharmaceutical company, to help run the practice’s accounting,” Angie continued, “Technically she’s my immediate boss, for the time being. But it’s okay, for now. She actually sounds like she has half a brain.” Her hand went up onto the side of his head, stroked his scalp leisurely, kept his gaze focused where she wanted it. “If I play my cards right, I’ll get hooked up doing financials for this study, with all the money coming in from the grants,” she said, her tone aggressively self-assured, “I’m going to be on it, totally in the right place, when things go down. Meet the right people, rise up the ranks, make more and more money…”
This was...yikes, wow...really turning him on. Secretly he loved hearing Angie embellish her own ego like this. Her boastful narcissism - she was constantly convinced that she was the smartest person in the room - was just always so hot to him. And he wasn’t nearly sure what she was talking about, but he loved how excited she sounded and how, in the face of his recent career troubles, how powerful she wanted to become. When had he gotten this way? When had he gotten to be such a junkie for the, well, submissive thrill he felt hearing a woman talk about being smart, successful...superior?
“Yeah, well, t-they’ve given me some responsibility too…” he found himself saying, maybe out of a reflexive knee-jerk reaction, some male pride bubbling weakly to the surface, “They’re having us tear out the old HVAC systems, and have me inspecting the venting, some of the thermostats...” Angie was letting him talk, possessively stroking his head, so he just continued. “Supposedly they’re putting in a new central one that’ll handle the whole building,” he explained, “be able to put some sort of aromatherapy into it. Weird, huh?”
“Aromatherapy, huh?” Angie asked, her interest piqued - and betrayed by a new purr, “In the air-conditioning?” She continued to pet his head, and drew in a little closer to him as she thought to herself. “Can you find out...any more about that for me?“
“Oh, uh, yeah...sure…” he agreed, though not really sure what he could do. Lots of this project seemed so under-wraps, at least from the guys. He hadn’t laid eyes on much in the way of blueprints or tech sheets or whatever.
“Good boy…” she praised, speaking plainly, “pull down your pants.”
Suddenly, AJ’s heart leapt. Was he about to get some?? Here in a storage closet?? Ha he’d take anything he could get these days, he thought to himself as he clumsily unzipped his thick, loose-fit utility pants, started to pull them down.
“B-boxers too?” he asked.
“Sure,” Angie allowed, and in a moment they were down at his knees, too. His erection already stood proud; of that he was glad. He wanted her to know how much she turned him on. But, then he thought - how had they gotten here? Didn’t she used to be the swooning drama nerd in high school, who’d barely been on his radar? The one who used to have the crush on him??
“A-Angie…?” he began.
“Shush, quiet,” she said, “grab your cock.”
“Wh-what?” he stammered, knowing exactly what she wanted him to do, “n-no I’m not going to, like, j-jerk off here in a cl-“
“Yes you will,” she stated, her confidence only making him harder, as she physically took his hand and planted it on his erection, balling it into a fist around his turgid shaft, “because you're submissive, just like him, and you’ll do exactly what I say...just like he will, some day.”
”I-I’m n-not,,,’submissive’..!” he bristled, male ego once again raising its battered head in the face of insult and jealousy. Like, what did she mean, ‘just like he will’??
“Okay sure, you’re not submissive,” she chuckled, laughing unpleasantly at his little snit, “prove it.”
With that, Angie took AJ’s full head between her hands, palms on his face and manicured fingers stretching back behind his head, and faced him solidly into her plumply bulging cleavage.
“Now stroke,” she directed, and to his own aghast he couldn’t help but obey. He’d been conditioned, over these past months, helpless when confronted by her, powerless to defy her will...especially when she used her tits. What was wrong with him??? In his hand, with his eyes plastered on the pale, soft flesh of her big breasts, his cock suddenly became even more needy, ached immediately for release. He groaned, both in spleen at himself and this crippling arousal.
She laughed again. “Not submissive, hm?” she purred, “Look at you. You're totally dominated by women. You’re working for women now, you do everything women tell you to do. At the job here, in bed with me…”
”hey..!” he began to protest, eyes rising for the moment, looking for hers, “I thought you liked-”
“Oh, I do, we all do,” she capitulated, shaking her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, redirecting his gaze back to her chest, “we love when the roles start reversing like this. Like you, getting to be my little bitch.”
“h-h-heyyyy…” he began to protest, but his voice faded, most of his fight lost between her E-cups.
“Aww, don’t feel badly,” she said, “I’ve been reading up on this. I really think men in general are getting more submissive, turning more beta, just watching as women take charge more. The doctor here included. Look what he’s done - or let happen. This whole place is run by girls.”
“H-h-huh…” AJ stammered dumbly, not even realizing he’d fallen into a rhythm, stroking himself, staring at Angie’s breasts.
“This is my chance, to get in, to take my piece,” she pronounced, ego swelling her bosom like a deep breath, “I’m so fucking alpha, I could run this place.”
”oh, uh, y-yeah..?” he spoke, bewitched and befuddled by every ripple and jiggle under her skin.
“You men like me to be in charge, don’t you? The thought of a woman boss?” she pressed, “You’d all never admit it but it gets you excited, how the women here - everywhere - are really the ones running the show, that any male authority is really just a thin facade, ready to be, like, cracked.”
“Oh my god Angie,” AJ moaned, now in the full grip of arousal, starting to pump himself with more abandon as Angie’s words struck chords with him neither he nor she had yet heard. Angie was experimenting, learning.
“Women have always been the ones to take up responsibilities, accept them and take them on, when men fail. We’ve been getting more able, more and more competent, while you all just, like, get lazy and dumb and shrink away,” she said, watching how his eyes were glazing over, his face going slack. Still he stared at her tits. “And you know the best part? It fucking turns you all on. You like getting weaker, losing responsibility and authority, your lives getting smaller as ours get bigger…”
“J-j-jesus Angie yes,” he stammered, mouth fully gaping now, his whole body shaking as he jacked off to her, to this vision of women.
She pulled his face closer. “Look at my tits. Look how big they are, look how deep and dark my cleavage is,” she commanded, “I’ll bet you wish you could shrink down and sink in there. Just become a little man and live between your girlfriend’s tits.”
“A-Angie n-n-n-...” he began, trying to deny but unable to come up with a sentence, in the face of the shame.
“Shhh, I know. I know what kind of porn guys have been into these days. I know what kind you’ve been into,” she said, “the shrinking, the bodybuilders, the giantesses…”
“unnh...unnnh…” he grunted, vision starting to close in, laser focused between her tits.
“And our breasts,” she continued, but knowing she had him close, “When did you become so obsessed with breasts? Even when you sleep, they’re there, aren’t they? Vision of my breasts swim in your head all night long.”
It was true. Her boobs were all he dreamed about. He moaned in forbearance and began to shudder.
“It’s true,” she said, her words echoing his thoughts, right as his climax began to crest, “It totally is. It’s why you wake up in the middle of the night sucking your own thumb. You want to be our fucking babies…”.
That was it, that was the final blow, and AJ could take no more. He groaned, finally closed his eyes, and came. His body lurched, shook, and cum shot up out of his cock.
Angie backed off, an inch, his head still in her hands. “There you go,” she said, plainly, “don’t get it on my dress.”
AJ, for himself, opened his eyes again, now jerking himself through it while staring into her tits again. He didn’t want to get it on her dress, so he pointed it back at himself, soiling his hand, his belly, his thigh.
“That’s right, get it all out,” she employed, patience now starting to wear thin, a new edge sharpening her voice. Though his climax still had him, she released his head, backing off another step. Her hands went to her top, pulling her neckline now more fully up over her breasts. “Finish up…”
AJ groaned in distress, his orgasm waning but ruined in its final moments. He just wanted those tits to bury himself into, and she was stepping away...
“Mommy’s got to go,” she said, finally, looking down at herself, shimmying herself back into some semblance of modesty, “Now, Aaron. This is it for us. I’m through.”
“w-w-wait whut?” AJ sputtered, confused, as his cock - just starting to deflate - leaked its final jisms onto his hand.
“I said I’m, like, done,” Angie said, straightly, looking down at him again, “You’ve been the perfect toy to practice on, and I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been fun. But I’m moving on, to bigger and better things.”
“Wait, no…” AJ managed, sobering quickly in shock but still struggling to grasp what was happening, “...are you...b-breaking up with me?”
“Yep,” she said, no hint of empathy softening her words as she watched the guy she’d lived with, the man she’d broken, start to shake. He was flailing, looking down at himself, at his mess, unsure what to do.
She reached out, grabbed a team of paper towels, and tossed it at him. “Here, clean up.”
“Angie, wait,” he tried, pulling several sheets out and starting to wipe himself down. She can’t do this, not now..! he thought, What will I do? Where will I live?? He had to stop her. “Let’s-“
“No, I’m done waiting,” she stopped him, turning away, hand already reaching for the door, grabbing the handle. An image of Melissa, her last Instagram post, flashed into her mind, made Angie seethe. “I’ve got things to do.”
And then he was alone.
sorry for the poor image quality, ‘twas the best I could do.
more stuff, newer posts at my Patreon
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MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND (Javier Peña x Reader)
MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND
(Based on the song “Must Have Been The Wind” by Alec Benjamin)
Javier Peña x Reader
Summary: Javier lives below you, curious of the noise and why’ve you’ve been crying
Warning: Toxic Relationship, Arguments
A/N: Hope you all are well! - K
Javier Peña was out cold, worn from working a case that lasted a few days out on the field. The television softly played as his body lay sprawled out on the old and weathered leather couch, wearing nothing but his plaid pattern boxers. Javier's heavy head rested propped up against the armrest. His mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell, deeply breathing through his mouth, snoring ever so slightly. His legs were partly spread open as one of his legs draped over the back cushions of the couch. His arm rested across his torso. The other dangling off the side of the sofa with a half-empty cup of whiskey clutched in his hand.
Nothing could wake him up from his deep sleep. That was until the sound of glass shattering from the apartment up above him startled him awake.
His eyes had shot open. He was a little disoriented, unsure of where the sound came from. Sitting up on the couch, he set his glass on the coffee table, switching it out for the television remote to turn it off, thinking the loud sound came from the movie he fell asleep watching.
He looked around his living room, scoping out if there was anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of listening, he decided it was best to just get up some shut-eye in his bedroom. He stands up from the chair and makes his way down the hallway. He enters his room located at the end of the hall, immediately laying himself on the bed.
As he tried to fall asleep he couldn’t help but listen to the commotion, the continuous sounds of thuds and bangs. His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.
“What the hell…” he cursed to himself, his eyes frowning, wondering what was happening above him.
Then he heard the voice of you crying. Your muffled cries could be heard from above. Javier's irritated expression faded as he listened to you wail.
He was concerned now.
Javier didn’t know the person living above him, but he needed to see if they’re okay. He knew something wasn’t right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he could have done something to help them.
Javier took the stairs up to the 2nd floor, walked down the hallway, and knocked upon your door.
He stood there waiting for a few minutes. No one came to the door. He knocked again, hoping he didn’t have to bust down the door to get inside.
By the third time, as he was in mid knock, the door opened. You stood there partially hiding behind the door using it as a shield between you and Javier. Your tied-back hair was disheveled, eyes were puffy and red. You quickly used the sleeves of your sweater to wipe any tears that may have remained on your face and to try to hide the fact you’d been crying.
Telling from your body language you were uneasy, Javier backed away from the door, giving a good amount of space between the both of you.
“Hi...” Javier said softly. He’s seen you around in the apartment building before, usually in passing.
“I’m Javier Peña, I live in the apartment below yours. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I was hearing a bit of a commotion coming from your place. I came to check to see if you were alright.”
“I think your ears are playing tricks on you.” You prompted. He noticed that your sweater zipped up to your chin. You knew there was no doubt that Javier could hear the fight that happened only moments ago, but you were ashamed, embarrassed that he did. You didn’t want to admit that it happened.
Javier knew you were sacred and wasn’t going to open up and come clean on what happened, especially to a stranger.
“Thanks for caring sir, that's nice of you, but I have to go back in.” You say slowly closing the door, trying to get him to leave and retreat to his apartment.
“Wish I could tell you about the noise you’ve been hearing, but I didn’t hear a thing...” You shrug.
“It must have been the wind.” You muttered.
He didn’t want to pry or push you further, so he went along with what you’ve said.
“I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry to have disturbed you this late, Goodnight”
You give him a broken smile and shut the door.
Javier starts walking down the hallway, turning back to look at your door. He was concerned for you but knew something was going on.
A couple of days have passed. He continued to hear the arguments above. Javier couldn’t shake the feeling. He didn’t want to intrude because he knew he didn’t have all the facts, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you.
He couldn’t get the image of you in his head that night when he saw you. Your tear-stained face and puffy eyes. You looked so fragile, tired and worn.
He could hear you crying right now. The thin walls and floor held nothing back. He wanted to go up and check on you, but he figured you’d turn him away again after he went back to see you a day after the first night. You told him the same thing you did last time “It must have been the wind”
An idea popped into his head. He wasn’t sure you’d get the message, but he had to try.
He walked over to where his record player was, filing through vinyl in a crate that his record player sat on top of.
He finds the vinyl, slipping out the record from the protective sheet, and placing it on the turntable. He turns the record player on and moves the needle. He turns a dial to turn up the volume on his speakers.
You laid on your bathroom floor hysterically crying. Another night fighting with your boyfriend. Your relationship was falling apart and you were desperately trying to save it. You hated that he would break things and throw things around. He would blow things out of proportion. You had no idea why you were even trying anymore or why you even put up with him. You knew he didn’t care, he never did, but he was all you have. You felt alone.
As you lay there on the floor you hear music coming from the apartment down below. You slowly start to calm down as you listen to the singing voice of Bill Withers
“Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on…”
It was Javier. You knew what he was trying to tell you. He wanted to help you, letting you know you could go to him. He already tried to help you, but you had turned him away, pretending things were fine.
The two of you knew you weren’t fine. You continued laying, curling up listening to the song.
Javier was on the roof of the apartment building. He leaned against the brick wall that lined the edge of the building. He was smoking a cigarette as he watched the lights of the city.
You came to the roof to get some fresh air. You busted through the door, Javier turned to look over his shoulders and noticed you.
You had locked eyes. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stood in the doorway. Javier breaks eye contact as he turns back to look at the city and exhales a puff of smoke.
You slowly make your way over to him. You stood next to him, you placed your arms on top, leaning against the brick railing.
“Hi…” You say softly.
“I-I never gave you my name…” You introduced yourself to him.
“Javier Peña...I know. I remember” you smile softly. “...I’ve seen you around before in the building... What are you doing? Up here I mean…”
“Needed a smoke and a change of scenery. I come up here to think sometimes.”
“Me too.. The thinking part. Not to smoke- I don’t smoke”
Javier chuckled. “Well that’s good to know. I was going to offer you one”
You two silently stand there looking off in the distance. You didn’t mind the silence. It was odd, he’s somewhat of a stranger to you, yet felt comfortable and safe around him.
He looks over at you. “Are you okay?” he asks.
You look up at him, his eyes searching for an answer. You sigh, hanging your head in shame and you fiddle with your fingers. Tears filling your eyes.
“Promise I'm not playing tricks on you. You're always welcome to come in. You could stay at my place for an hour or two If you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but 'till then I'll say, "It must have been the wind”
Javier one last drag of his cigarette and exhales. He drops it on the ground, smashing it in. He sticks his hands in his pockets and walks away back over to the roof door.
He stops turning around to look at you.
With that Javier leaving you standing on the roof alone.
The next morning you built up the courage to talk to Javier. You made it down to his apartment and knocked on his door, patiently waiting.
Javier opens the door seeing you stand there fidgeting with your fingers.
“Hey” he greets you
“Hi… I’m sorry to bother you. I thought about what you told me last night. I could use a friend… talk about the noise...I-if that’s okay…”
“Yeah, of course. I was actually about to head down to the diner down the street to get some breakfast and a cup of coffee...Do you wanna go? Can sit and talk..”
“Okay...Yeah I’d like that” you smile softly.
“Okay” he grabs his jacket and keys off the hook and shuts the door. “Let’s go”
Javier and you walked down the hallway together beginning to talk about the so called “wind”.
MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso@greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301 @alberta-sunrise@spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina
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For the mermay fills: 10 & 22 with indruck? 👁️👁️ (nsfw or sfw)
I went with ten (tattoos/piercings) first, since 22 will be part of another fill. I went with NSFW, and wrote this as a follow-up to my “Heat” fill from last year.
Indrid swims up and down the hall outside the palace infirmary. He’s far from the only one doing so; the reef serpent wreaked havoc through the city before the Chosen mers defeated it. He’s not even the only person waiting to see if Duck is alright.
“Have courage, Prince Indrid Cold!” Minerva, sporting a new gash on her face, clamps her hand down on his shoulder in what he knows is her version of a comforting gesture, “Duck Newton is the strongest Chosen after myself. He will pull through.” The blue of her tentacles flashes with pride.
“Besides” Ned, the castle mer who has, against all odds, become Indrid’s closest advisor, flicks his orange and silver tail “you informed us yourself there were no futures where our friend passed away.”
“I know.” Indrid takes a breath, intending to explain the tangled net of anxiety in his chest. All that comes out is another, “I know.”
Behind him, he hears two nurses murmuring that they’d better bump the prince’s consort up in the line, but before he can turn and order them not to, they’re gone.
It happened like this: Duck kept his word, began courting Indrid properly once the seer's heat passed, and Indrid reciprocated without hesitation. This caused a near scandal; yes, Duck was a Chosen and thus noble to a degree, but Indrid was a prince, and a prized one. Indrid pointed out that he rather liked someone who cared about his welfare, not just his happiness, and if they had an issue with that, that was their problem not his. And so the comments about Duck moved from to his face to behind his back, which he counted as good enough.
Duck found the whole consort business stressful, given that he’d forgone his Chosen destiny in favor of tending the kelp forests specifically to avoid that kind of fanfare and politics. Thus, they steered clear of the castle when they could, spending their time with their friends in town or in the sunken ship Duck called home.
When the serpent attacked their town, Duck discovered the limits of his rejecting his destiny, and joined the fight to save his home. Indrid is proud of him, even if his stomach churns whenever the futures shift and he has to see whether the strings of fate weave a grimmer outcome for the man he loves.
It’s well after moonrise when he’s allowed to see Duck. The other mer is half-asleep in his infirmary bed, a massive bandage on his side and one of his tentacles bitten down to a nub
“Hey darlin” The sleepy drawl is accompanied by the mer opening his arms.
Indrid carefully settles against the non-bandaged side of him, rests his head on his chest with a relieved sigh, “I’m so glad you’re alright. Or, well, mostly alright. You’re in one piece. Sort of. I, I’m not conveying this well.”
“I ain’t dead, given how today went I’m callin that a win. Besides, this’ll grow back in no time.” He wiggles the stub of his tentacle.
“Mmm” Indrid cuddles closer, purring softly as intact tentacles pet his tail and back.
“When’d you last sleep?” Duck murmurs, kissing the top of his head.
“Not since the attack started.”
“Seems to me we’re both due for some shut eye.”
Indrid nods, right before falling asleep and dreaming of strong tentacles and stronger arms.
“Guess I gotta get a tattoo now.” Duck studies the scar on his side, his bandages having permanently come off this morning.
“I suppose so. Though, if you’ve avoided so many other parts of Chosen protocol, I fail to see how skipping this one will make things worse.”
“I dunno, I kinda like this one. Used to strike me as macho bullshit, showin off how many battle scars you got. But now...makes me think of how when the forest gets trashed by a storm, or a huge-ass monster tearin through it, there’s a certain kind of pleasure that comes from watchin it heal, watchin it go from desolated and scarred to somethin beautiful.”
Indrid loves when he talks like this, smiles dreamily as Duck adds, “you could even design it for me. I’d like that.”
“I could do you one better; I could apply it as well. And since I foresee you asking yes, I do have the training to do so. Royal mers learn to tattoo themselves, due to rules about being touched by lower ranking mers that I judiciously ignored.”
“No kiddin” Duck grins, two tentacles coiling around Indrid’s tail, teasing the red stripe, “now that I’m healed up, gonna do all kinds of things to you to remind you why you ignored those rules in the first place.”
“Are you nervous?” Indrid finishes setting out his tools on the pristine table in his pristine chambers. He tends towards messiness in his habits, but when it comes to Duck’s health he’s cleaned the whole place by hand and with magic. Twice.
“Nah, I know I’m in good hands.” Even as he says this, a burst of anxious yellow moves up his tentacles.
“All the same, if you need a break at any point, let me know. And if the scar starts stinging or throbbing, tell me at once.”
“You got it, darlin.”
Indrid takes his time using a spell to transfer his design to Duck’s skin, double checking the placement before picking up the charm-powered tattoo gun. When finished, the tattoo will be a small forest of kelp, with the scar making up most of the body of the serpent swimming between the leaves. Six shades of green ink, three shades of brown, one shade of copper, and black for outlining, lay on the table, Indrid dipping into each of them in turn as he brings the image to life.
“Love watchin you draw” Duck sighs, then shudders, “sorry, gettin a hell of an adrenaline rush from the pain.”
“Just try to stay still. If you twitch or fidget too much, it will cause mistakes on my end.”
“Do my best.”
“If you don’t, I’ll just have to tie you down.” Indrid says breezily. The tentacle near him pulses purple. Desire. Interesting.
He’s most of the way through when Duck’s arms shake, his tentacles following suit, occasionally bumping Indrid’s tail or sides.. They’re small movements, all things considered, but in most futures they mean he has to re-do the entire last third of the tattoo.
“Nono, this won’t do at all.” He set’s the gun down, flitting across to the closet near his bed. A sea-grass rope waits, right where he left. There hasn’t been much call for it, Duck capable of restraining Indrid in a variety of ways all on his own.
“Now” Indrid bites off several lengths of rope, “since you cannot be still, I am going to tie your tentacles down. You’re to keep your hands where I put them, or I will tie them as well.”
Ducks tentacles are now deep, unflinching purple, “Holy fuck, ‘drid.”
“Just because I am generally submissive around you does not mean I’m not capable of giving orders.” Indrid smirks, tying the first two tentacles down.
“I, I know, it’s just you, uh, you, you never talk like this.” Duck’s eyes are wide, excited even, as they track Indrid’s circular path.
“I suppose you don’t hear me during advisory meetings, so this is a new experience for you.”
“Maybe I oughta start sittin in on ‘em.” Duck whines when Indrid kisses his cheek but refuses to stick around long enough for Duck to kiss him back.
“Perhaps. Right now, however, you are to sit still until I’m done with you. Understood?”
“Uh huh.” Duck smiles, docile and sweet, and Indrid wonders why they never thought to try this before.
He returns to his work, inking colors into Duck’s skin, enjoying the intimacy of learning the familiar curves of his ribs and belly in new ways. At one point he notices Duck tensing and almost moving his hand, but the other mer catches it in time.
“Good boy.” Indrid purrs.
“Fuck.” Duck tips his head back, “how much longer?”
“About ten minutes more, I’d say. You can manage it my sweet, you’re doing so well already.”
Duck whimpers low in his throat as Indrid goes back to his work. Exactly ten minutes later, he puts a protective covering atop the tattoo and pushes his supply table aside.
“There, all done. You did wonderfully.”
“Great, now untie me.” Duck wriggles hopefully.
Indrid raises an eyebrow, “In a hurry, sweet one?”
“Yes” Duck holds out a hand, trying to coax him closer.
“Whatever for?” He replies airly, as if can’t sense the arousal pouring off his boyfriend in waves, “and stop moving so much, you’ll aggravate the tattoo.”
“‘Drid please” The folds between his front-most tentacles ripple as his cock starts emerging.
“Oh I see.” Indrid swims so they’re face to face, pinning Duck’s hands to the back of the chair as he leans into his space, “you want me to fuck you, is that it? You’re willing to risk pain to new scar tissue, even marring my lovingly done work, just to have your cock played with?”
“Holyfuckinshit, why is this the first time you’re talkin like this?” Duck bites his lip with a little moan as Indrid rubs their cheeks together.
“I don’t know. In hindsight, it seems so obvious; you’re my powerful, competent mate, you always take such wonderful care of me, but you want someone to take away that power from time to time, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Duck tips his chin up, hoping for a kiss, but Indrid floats backwards out of reach,
“What shall we do about that, hmm?” He swims a slow, tight circle around the other mer, staying just out of arms reach, “shall I keep you bound until the urge passes? No, that’s far too cruel for my beloved. Perhaps I should make you see to it yourself? But no, you might accidentally hurt yourself. Hmmm, what to do, what to do….” He taps his chin as Duck growls and whines, tentacles now straining against their bonds. Indrid knows Duck could snap them easily if he needed or wanted to. Which means he wants to remain at Indrid’s mercy for the time being.
“You do look wonderful like this. I didn’t even plan it this way, but how I tied you shows off most of your assets.” Indrid rubs the upper front of his tail, “now you’re getting me all wound up.”
“Good” Duck growls, tentacles swirling purple and pink.
“Yes it, ahnnn, it is rather good, isn’t it. After all, I have the perfect solution to the situation sitting right in front of me.”
Duck’s cock is fully out, it and the slit beneath it tempting Indrid to abandon his plan. He swims in front of the other mer, eyeing his cock approvingly, “yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”
“Thank fuckOHfummmhp” Duck’s surprised moan turns to a laugh as Indrid, having zipped upwards in a flash, finishes shoving his cock into Duck’s mouth.”
“Yesss, ohyes, goodness I love doing this, you look so charming with your lips around my cock. Ah, ah, don’t you dare move your hands from the chair. This” he gives a sharper thrust, “is all I need to be satisfied.”
Duck moans louder, which Indrid takes as his cue to hold his head in place and fuck into his mouth with abandon.
“That’s it love, that’s it, oh I ought to have done this months ago, tied my big strong hero down and reminded him of hisAHAnnn, his duties as consort.”
“‘M ot a ero.”
Indrid looks imperiously down his nose at him, “It’s rude to contradict someone when they’re giving you what you want, my sweet. I guess I’ll need to render you further incapable of speech” He concentrates and extends his cock, a mechanism meant to ensure he can reproduce with mers of any size or genital configuration but that he uses only to make Duck groan with pleasure.
His orgasm is already racing towards him, as it always does when Duck lets him (or orders him to) fuck his throat, and he shuts his eyes, concentrating on tight heat and the happy, muffled grunts floating up to his ears.
“Just a little, nnnn, little more my sweet, let your prince ravish your throat a little longerOH, ohgods, Duck, sweetheart, yes.” He cums, a shudder rippling down his tail, and doesn’t pull out until Duck struggles to swallow the rest down. The other mer is still collecting his breath when Indrid wiggles down and pushes his tongue into his slit.
“Fuck!” Duck jerks hard enough to move the chair an inch to the right.
Indrid snickers, wraps both hands around Duck’s cock, stroking it hurriedly as he raises his head, “What do you say, beloved?”
“Th-thank you?” Duck cracks an eye open. Indrid nods, then dips his head back down to to suck and tongue at the senstive skin.
“Fuckme, ohfuck, ‘Drid, darlin’, this is fuckin incredible, gonna, gonna be such a good consort, do whatever you say, fuck you five fuckin times a day, just, FUCK, just promise we can do this again.”
“Muv ourse.” Indrid thrusts his tongue deeper, twisting his hands on his upstrokes. The fourth time he does, he pops up to suck on the head just in time to catch Duck’s cum in his mouth. He takes his time, sucking him clean with happy trills and moans while his boyfriend utters curses that would make sailors blush.
He pulls away to wipe his mouth, intending to start untying Duck. The futures show that won’t be necessary,
The ropes break in pairs, rapid fire, and then Duck is on him, enveloping him in arms, tentacles, and love. He tries to press closer, then winces back, “owfuck, you’re right, the tattoo is real sore.”
“It’ll be that way for a few days. Your Chosen strength will help, but you should still rest when possible.”
“I dunno” Duck kisses him sweetly, then nips his lower lip, “you know how stubborn I can be. Might have to uh, tie me to the bed.”
“That, my love, can be arranged.”
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I might have committed a fic after Sobbe texts 😁
* * *
“I still don’t get how you go from space to earthling. Why not just Sander?”
Sander lifts his head from over his midterm paper, cocking his eyebrow. “Says sterkerdanijzer,” he huffs a laugh, his tone carrying a teasing tone. “I mean,” pausing, he stretches his arms over his head after sitting in front of his computer for two hours straight, impish smirk growing on his face, “Is there a cryptic message hiding under it? Did you want to tell something to your followers maybe?”
He barely dodges the pillow Robbe throws into his direction.
“It’s cool,” Robbe tries, a little defensive.
“Sure it is, ironman,” Sander indulges him, snorting at the middle finger he receives. “You’re so strong, baby,” he continues with his teasing, pretending to swoon, and he prepares for the oncoming attack when he sees Robbe jumping from the bed.
“Shut uuuup,” Robbe whines as his merciless fingers go straight to Sander’s sides, jabbing and poking and tickling until he reduces him to a crying-from-laughter mess, tears streaming down his cheeks to Robbe’s utter delight.
“Stop, stop, stop, oh my god you’re a menace, stop, I’m sorry!”
Robbe pulls back, a beaming smile on his face at Sander’s easy capitulation and breathlessness. He uses his momentary haze and grabs his chin to press a single kiss to his lips before backing off and flopping back on his bed, bored again.
“Anyway, earthlingoddity is the coolest username in the world and if you think otherwise, you’re admitting you have no taste,” Sander quips once he straightens up his clothes, shooting Robbe a pointed look.
“Hey, I fell in love with you, I clearly have taste,” Robbe is quick to reply, pulling an unexpected blush from Sander who rolls his eyes to pretend he’s unaffected. Judging by Robbe’s smug face, he’s not very successful. Damn it. “Did you have any other usernames before or you came up with this pretentious one right away?” he asks cheekily.
This time, it’s Sander who flips him off, but he’s also a little too quick to deny, making Robbe suspicious.
“Me thinks you’re not telling the whole truth.”
When Sander pretends he doesn’t hear him and tries to look extra focused on his paper, Robbe sits up on the mattress, cross-legged, and smiles at him tongue-in-cheek. “Come on, tell me.”
“But why not?”
“Cause they’re embarrassing.”
Robbe gasps, super invested now. “Tell me tell me tell me.”
“Nope, you’re never gonna find out,” Sander shoots him a faux-apologetic smile before going back to his essay, and Robbe starts to wonder whether he’s seriously not aware.
Of the beautiful new feature on instagram.
That allows you to check a person's previous usernames.
Robbe snatches his phone from his nightstand, anticipation building as he clicks on Sander’s profile and then on the three dots to get to the feature and-
This is officially the best day of his life.
It’s all there. And it’s better than Robbe could have dreamed of.
He’s not capable of containing his glee. Squeezing his lips to keep the laughter in, he glances at Sander’s unsuspicious face.
“Hey Sander,” he starts, his boyfriend immediately turning his eyes in his direction. “Or should I say... Sanderschmander?”
His eyes turn as big as saucers, blood draining from his face and jaw dropping in an utter shock, and Robbe is consumed by a fit of giggles.
“How the fuck-”
“I have my ways, CRACKEDBOWIELICIOUS!”
Sander’s eyes stop at Robbe’s phone screen that’s still turned on.
“Where did you find it???”
Robbe doesn’t answer, rolling on his bed and laughing, the giggles getting stronger when he feels a dip in the mattress and Sander rips the phone out of his hand, muttering “fuck” under his breath.
“You’re such a dork,” Robbe squeezes out, “so misunderstood, almost like a misunderstoodearthling. Oh my god, I love you so much, I could kiss you right now!”
Sander keeps glaring at him, but the corners of his lips start twitching as he watches Robbe’s red face, and soon his facade breaks and the first giggle breaks out. Robbe pulls him down on the bed, performing one of Sander’s signature moves and trapping him under his body, hovering over him, lips stretched into a giant smile.
“You’re an even bigger Bowie stan than I thought.”
Sander makes a duuuh face, fingers combing through Robbe’s fringe that keeps tickling his own forehead. “Hey, didn’t you say something about a kiss?” He purses his lips.
Robbe nods eagerly and leans closer, stopping only millimeters from Sander’s lips. “One kiss for my earthling coming right up,” he whispers with a giggle, before closing the distance and erasing any good comeback from Sander’s head.
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Reflection Of You | Chapter 3
Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance
Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung
Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.
Looks like you couldn’t deal with the negativity and the scary fans on your own. But you couldn’t bear to burden Yoongi further with it.
Chapter warning(s): threatening words, death threats, name calling. Mentions of someone getting cursed through fantasy dark magic. Please do not take it seriously and only read at your own discretion.
Ever since the news, things have been... eventful. Most of the ARMY seemed accepting and supportive, most. Some ARMYs have found your social media accounts and were spreading it around. While some of the messages were nice, there were still some threatening ones.
“Have you told hyung?” Taehyung asked. You jumped, the phone slipping out of your hands and onto the floor. Taehyung had come to go through some music with Yoongi and they were working in the room the whole day.
“You scared me, Tae.” You bent down to pick up the device, tucking it into your pocket.
“So are you?” Taehyung blinked.
“Tell him what? Exactly.” You sighed, continuing with your cleaning chores of the kitchen. Taehyung stopped you, gripping your wrist, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to let this go.
“You need to tell him. He can do something, or tell the company to do something.” Taehyung said.
“Thanks for your concern, Tae. But I can handle a few young girls without having to involve Yoongi. I don’t want him blaming himself again. It’s just social media, I don’t need it. Besides, this has probably caused a lot of trouble for the company already, I’m not about to add on more.” You said softly, not wanting Yoongi to hear.
“These aren’t a few young girls, noona. They’re crazy, violent. They aren’t ARMY, you know that.” Taehyung insisted.
“Whatever it is. It’s nothing dangerous. If things get worse, then I’ll tell Yoongi.”
“Tell me what?” Yoongi appeared. He blinked when he saw Taehyung gripping your wrist, you and him having such a hushed conversation, that apparently wasn’t hushed enough.
“Nothing.” You muttered and pulled your wrist away.
“What did you do?” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. Taehyung shook his head, going to the fridge to get a bottle of juice before leaving the kitchen.
“I’m fine, Yoongi. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.” You smiled, knowing that Yoongi was still genuinely concerned for you. Drying your hands, you walked up to him and kissed the furrowed eyebrows with a smile.
“Take a break. We can continue cleaning later.” Yoongi held your hand.
“I’m almost done.” You shrugged. Yoongi sighed, giving in to you. His hands moved to hold your waist as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing your waist once more, he poured himself a cold coffee from the fridge and left to continue working with Taehyung.
“Where was I...?” You turned to finish your cleaning. When you were done with the kitchen, you busied yourself by vacuuming the floor and dusting the shelves until the house was spotless.
“All done.” You smiled, happy with yourself. You sat down on the couch, looking back at your phone.
‘Why would oppa go for someone ugly like you?’
‘We know you’re just using him, whore. ’
‘You think we won’t find you?’
‘If BTS loses popularity, it’s all your fault. If only you died.’
With that, you decided to deactivate all your social media. You deleted all the apps from your phone, willing yourself not to think about it. Even if you acted unaffected, a part of you was creeped out by just how much these people can find out about you. Luckily, you had no family that they could track down and hurt as revenge.
“Hello? Geumjae oppa?” It was rare but not odd for Yoongi’s older brother to be calling you. He owned a nice cafe in Daegu, being a chef.
“Hey, (y/n). Is Yoongi busy?”
“He’s in the home studio, working with Taehyung. He must have silenced his phone. What’s up? Can I take a message?” You went to retrieve a notepad and pen just in case.
“Oh... Don’t worry. It isn’t important, I’ll just call him. My parents told me what happened, and I read about it in the news, how is everything on your end?”
“Manageable.” You replied shortly.
“I understand. Even as his brother, I get some threats sometimes. Don’t take them to heart, alright? If it gets too much, you have to tell Yoongi. So the company can take action. Still, you should be careful if you go out. Maybe have someone follow you for now.”
“I will, thanks oppa. It’s a little shocking how they managed to find me so quickly. We’re just laying low now. I don’t want to unnecessarily stress Yoongi out even more.” You said.
“You’re always putting others before yourself, (y/n) ah. Oh, looks like I have to go. I’ll see you two when you come to Daegu.”
“You can count on it! I’ll see you, oppa.” You chuckled and hung up. Since you got a little sweaty and dirty from cleaning, you went to take a shower.
When you came out, you saw Yoongi sitting on the couch, sipping whiskey. Taehyung didn’t seem to be around anymore, his shoes from the doorway were gone too.
“Tae went back?” You asked. Yoongi just grunted in reply.
“What’s wrong? Why are you mad?” You stood at the end of the couch, putting your hands on your hips.
“How long were you going to keep me in the dark? About the fans finding your social media and harassing you, sending you death threats. Or how about that your boss had put you on indefinite period of leave.” Yoongi spoke. There was so many emotions in his voice, betrayal, sadness, anger, frustration. You sighed, looking away.
“Who told you? Tae?”
“Taehyung knows?!” Yoongi raised his voice.
“That’s what we were discussing earlier... In the kitchen. He saw my phone. Unintentionally, of course. But if it wasn’t Tae who told you, then who?” You asked.
“That’s all you care about? Well if you must know, Geumjae hyung just called me to tell me that some fans showed up at his cafe and he saw the comments on your social media before you deleted them. As for your job, your boss told me when I sent an official BigHit letter about the situation.” Yoongi explained.
“Those comments are just nothing but words. And with the job, I can just find another one. I can handle it, Yoons. It’s no big deal.” You spoke calmly, quite the opposite of him.
“Stop saying you can handle it, (y/n)! Stop saying it’s no big deal! I... Ugh...” He held onto his head in frustration.
“Then what do you want me to say?” You closed your eyes to take a deep breath.
“I know you’re doing this so I don’t feel guilty or whatever but you saying it’s no big deal makes me feel worse! It feels like I can’t even do a proper job of protecting my girlfriend, that she feels the need to hide from me just because she thinks that I can’t take it.” He hissed. Now you knew he was just saying things he didn’t mean.
“Yoongi, you know that’s not true.” You crossed your arms.
“It sure feels that way.” He replied. You bit your lip. knowing that speaking to him when he was in this state wouldn’t help the both of you. You would just end up losing your cool and screaming at him too.
“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You turned around and went to the room. Before you closed the door, you heard the door to Yoongi’s studio slam shut.
“Just great.” You sighed. After drying your hair, you put your moisturiser on and got ready for bed.
In time like these, you just needed to give him space. It was known that Yoongi didn’t express emotions well so he often said things in a fit of anger but he really doesn’t mean it.
You hadn’t been able to sleep so you settled for a book that both Namjoon and Yoongi had recommended. The bedroom door slowly crept open. Yoongi stood there, teary eyed and red nosed. He looked at you with a slightly blank stare. You closed your book, standing from the bed to hug him.
“I... I...” His whole body shook.
“I can’t just sit... and wait for that dreaded call... that something happened to you. I can’t, (y/n). I’ll go crazy. I’m so f*cking scared.” He shook his head. You knew Yoongi was paranoid, he was always worrying about something.
“It’ll be okay, Yoongi. You’re scaring yourself.” You said softly.
“I can’t let you go.”
“No one says you have to. I’ll always be right here, Yoons. It’ll take a lot for anyone to drive a wedge between us, I promise you.” You kissed his temple.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I know I should trust you more and shouldn’t have made you feel weak or useless. It’s just, I’m scared too. This is all new to me.” You continued.
“We’ll get through this together.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against yours. You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand, gently wiping his eyes and nose. Yoongi stood still, sniffling ever so often. You threw the tissues away and laid with him. If possible, Yoongi held you closer to him than any other night.
“Tell me about what you’re working on.” You changed the subject. Yoongi was always in the mood to talk about music.
“Tae’s mixtape looks like it’s coming along well, he has come very far in terms of putting his own music together. I’m gonna start working on the songs I promised Jimin and Jin hyung. ” Yoongi said.
“That sounds awesome.” You said encouragingly.
“Really? It seems that all I talk about is music. I’m even using my break to work on it.” Yoongi scoffed at himself.
“It’s your break, Yoons. You can do whatever you want with it. And I never get tired of listening to you talk about your work. You just sound so proud and confident when you do.” You confessed, blushing.
“Are you blushing?!” Yoongi’s eyes widened.
“Whaaaaaaat? I’m allowed to blush over my boyfriend. Geez. I didn’t think I would be confessing all my inner thoughts today.” You cleared your throat. Yoongi let out a soundless laugh, showing his genuine gummy smile, the one that you just love so much.
“You’re too cute, aegi.” Yoongi stroked your hair.
“Stop embarrassing me. I’m supposed to be the one to tease you, not the other way around.” You scrunched your nose, pulling away from his embrace to hide under the blanket.
“Okay okay, I’ll stop. Can you come out, please? I want to cuddle my girl as I sleep.” Yoongi persuaded. You slowly removed the blanket, letting Yoongi tuck you into the crook of his neck comfortably.
As you and Yoongi were getting ready to head to Daegu, Yoongi was told to pick up his fan gifts from BigHit. All fan gifts are sent to BigHit for security checks before the boys can collect them and open them at home. Yoongi drove one of BigHit’s borrowed cars, which is a Hyundai SUV, considering they were the brand ambassadors.
“Ready?” Yoongi asked, adjusting his bucket hat.
“Yeah.” You pulled your mask up, carrying two cups of iced coffee. You handed one to Yoongi while you locked the front door. After that, Yoongi used his free hand to hold yours.
“Should we have asked Sejin oppa to drive us?” You asked as Yoongi unlocked the car doors.
“This car was checked and approved by BigHit. The windows are also tinted so they wouldn’t know it’s us. And we use the back entrance.” Yoongi informed.
“Alright.” You got in. As you closed the door, Yoongi grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it. You smiled at him as he started the engine. You played music from your phone, ready to jam with him like you always do.
“Ready?” He turned to you. You nodded and he drove out.
“Now for a throwback.” You announced as you played ‘No More Dream’, much to Yoongi’s annoyance. You would play old BTS songs from time to time just to mess with him.
“Aegi, please.” He groaned.
“I want a big house, big cars and big rings.” You were too busy rapping his part to hear him. Yoongi burst out laughing, you rapping, especially to his songs, never failed to make him laugh. You were even throwing hand signs like he would do.
“If you can’t beat them, join them.” Yoongi shook his head, joining you in the song. He took the vocal parts while you took the rapping parts. Hearing Yoongi try to reach high notes killed you.
“To all the youngsters out there without dreams.” The two of you said Namjoon’s ending line together.
“I can’t even believe we had fans back then.” Yoongi chuckled.
“Hey, don’t shun the ARMY. They’ll love you no matter the era.” You scoffed with your arms crossed. You remember how Yoongi would come in after practice, looking so tired but still diligently picking out CDs to buy.
“I remember you bringing me your first album.” You reminisced with a small smile. Yoongi cringed.
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“Why? You were so cute and nervous. I think that was when I started to develop feelings for you.” You giggled. Yoongi had burst into the store, presenting you the signed album with a deep bow. He had turned so red and was so flustered that he spoke with a stutter. You found it adorable but what made your heart swell was the personal note Yoongi wrote for you.
“That’s when you had feelings for me?! Then why did I wait like 4 years to ask you out?!” Yoongi screeched in outrage. You just shrugged.
“At that time, you and the others were so unsure of where your careers would lead you, who knew what the future held. Starting a relationship wouldn’t have been the smart thing to do.” You explained lightly.
“Still, I could have had you by my side.” He grumbled.
“Whether I was your girlfriend or not, I would have always been by your side, Yoon. For you and the others.”
“Yeah but I would have preferred if you were by my side, as my girl.” He scoffed and you reached over to stroke his cheek lightly, not wanting to distract him from driving too much.
“But here we are. I don’t think waiting a few years has changed my feelings for you. Things happen for a reason.” You smiled.
“You and your philosophies... You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like Namjoon and I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He teased. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. As Yoongi drove past the front of BigHit, there were a few girls sitting on the floor.
“Don’t look.” Yoongi said, not even having to turn to you. But it was too late, you saw all the words of hate and anger directed towards you, Yoongi and the rest of Bangtan.
“I told you not to look.” Yoongi said softly.
“It’s inevitable...” You looked down at your lap. You hated that the rest of the boys were also getting the heat for this, they didn’t deserve it.
“Mr Min.” The security guard greeted as Yoongi rolled the window down. He opened the barrier for Yoongi to drive in. He entered the private, underground carpark to the BigHit building. He backed into his parking space.
“Hey, it’ll pass. Remember?” Yoongi held your chin and leaned in to give you a comforting kiss. You gave a small smile, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him.
“Let’s do this quickly. Then we’ll go home.” He said. You hummed in agreement, exiting the car with him.
“Hey.” Yoongi greeted the stuff with a bow and you followed suit.
“It’s in the conference room.” He told you as the two of you took the lift up. Yoongi held your hand the entire time. You went into the empty conference room to see a stack of gifts there. What surprised you was that there was a small stack with your name labelled on them. You blinked, turning to Yoongi, who just shrugged.
“They’re checked for dangerous items. So go ahead.” He encouraged. You opened the first box, seeing a stuffed black cat that was dressed similarly to Yoongi. You giggled, shoving it into Yoongi’s face.
“It’s you. Lil meow meow.”
“Whatever makes you happy, aegi.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and looked through some of his gifts. There were nice, heartwarming letters in most of the boxes.
“Aww, look.” There was a nice fanart of a faceless girl playing with a black kitten, presumably Yoongi. It was done so nicely with watercolour, you couldn’t wait to display it.
“That’s you.” You pointed to the kitten that was rolled in yarn.
“Wow, I didn’t even think of that.” Yoongi said sarcastically. You slapped his arm. He read some letters while waiting for you.
“What?” You opened a box to see some few odd objects inside, not something one would give as a gift. There was also a tarot card inside, The Devil. There was no letter inside at all. It creeped you out slightly but it wasn’t particularly threatening so you just closed the box.
“What’s that?” Yoongi asked.
“Some nice notes put together.” You lied with a smile.
“Let’s go home and open the rest of these.” You told him. Yoongi nodded, placing the gifts onto the trolley that was provided and pushing it back down to the carpark.
“Min Yoongi!” Someone called out just as you reached the carpark. The both of you looked up but your reaction was too late.
“Ah!” Your first instinct was to protect your face, causing the blade to slash your arm. You crumbled slightly, face scrunching in slight pain as blood began to seep out. Yoongi’s eyes widened in horror.
“Aegi!” Yoongi was in shock. Before he could pull you behind him, you felt yourself fall to the ground, a sudden weakness taking over your system.
“Yah! What did you do?!” Yoongi screamed at this intruder.
“If I can’t have Yoongi, no one can.” She smiled as she met eyes with you. You laid on the ground, shivering. Your vision blurred horribly and you felt light headed. Was that what the box was earlier? Witchcraft? Does witchcraft still exist or does it even work? Yoongi called out to you but he felt so distant even as he hovered over you.
“Time to disappear.” She grinned and clapped her hands.
“Aegi! (y/n)! Can you hear me?!” Yoongi shook you.
“Yoon-” Your vision faded to black.
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