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foli-vora · 3 years

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reflections

masterlist

A/N: I’m back, baby! This is completely self indulgent because I’m feeling shitty about my bod, who better to help than certified soft boi Marcus? This is dedicated to all the goddesses who sometimes struggle with remembering that they have the body of a bad bitch, regardless of what it looks like or what society tells you it should be. I love you.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: insecurities, body image issues, SMUT 18+ ONLY - body worship, unprotected p in v, I may have cried writing this no I won’t apologise

It was one of those days.

Your clothes didn’t feel right on your body, clumping in certain spots and hanging wrong everywhere else. The reflection in the bathroom mirror showed someone desperately trying to piece together what was left – a bit of extra serum here, a heavier swipe of makeup there, as if it would all come together in the end and you’d be able to walk around with your head held high.

It didn’t work.

How you landed Marcus Pike, you’ll never know, and it’s that thought that festers, ugly and unyielding, in your mind throughout the entire day and well into dinner.

He watches you from across the table as he eats, head tilting when he quickly catches onto the fact that you’re unusually quiet, reserved, curling in on yourself and pushing the food around your plate instead of enthusiastically diving in like you normally do when he cooks.

“Is everything okay?” His voice is soft, his gentle probing so much more different from previous partners and their passive aggressive ‘What’s wrong with you?’.

Your eyes find him, flickering across his face creased with concern, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as you force a little smile. It doesn’t sit right on your face. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

He knows you’re lying, knows from the sudden shine in your eyes that something’s bothering you, something’s hurting, but he lets it rest for now, sensing your discomfort from miles away and instead choosing to reach a hand across the table to fold softly over yours as he fills the silence with the goings on of his day.

You don’t eat.

He doesn’t comment on it.

He hides when he hears you tidying in the kitchen, thinking he was already getting ready for bed. He watches you swipe away the food on your plate with a quiet sniff, the back of your hand quickly catching a lone tear that streaks down your face, and then he knows.

You pull at your shirt, shift uncomfortably in your tight pants – his favourite – and he knows.

Heart breaking for you, Marcus makes sure to make a noise as he enters, smiling softly when you jump and laugh quietly. You force a smile, turning your back to him to start washing dishes when warm hands cover yours in the soapy water, a body pressing up close behind you.

“Take a shower with me?” He asks into the hot skin of your throat, kissing softly below your ear as he sways with your body gently. A habit of his – always swaying to music that isn’t there. The music of your love, he liked to say. The cheesy idiot.

You want to say no, he can feel it in the way your body tenses.

“I had one earlier.”

He leaves it, nodding against your cheek in understanding before kissing it softly and fading away upstairs. He takes your composure with him, and you can’t help but cry as you finish up the dishes.

You really don’t deserve him. He was far too good for you.

The ugly thought that had long settled in your mind, suddenly sprouts into something bigger. It fills you, the unworthiness, and your chest tightens as you fight off the heavier sobs, struggling to swallow around the lump lodged in your throat from the effort of keeping it all at bay. You’d save them for later, when he’s oblivious and lost in dreams.

You must have taken longer than you thought because he’s already pottering around the room in his pyjamas by the time you make your way upstairs, dark hair dripping small droplets of water onto the collar of his comfy tee. He never dries his hair properly. Usually you’d do it for him – cover his head with a towel and rub it vigorously until he’s unsteady, chest heaving from the laughter muffled by the fabric.

Not tonight.

He watches sadly as you retrieve your pyjamas and head for the bathroom, head downcast.

“Hey,”

You stop instantly, a small smile twisting your lips uncomfortably as you turn to raise a brow at him.

“Come here.”

When you get to him, he quickly steers you to the full-length mirror by the walk-in closet and shushes your quiet refusal, standing close to you as you both appear in the reflection.

“Look.” He says.

You frown at him in the reflection, “What?”

“Look.”

And so you do.

You can’t help the sting of more tears in your raw eyes as they roll over your body, automatically drawn in to the bits you don’t like and picking them to pieces in your mind. He watches intently, heart breaking even more in his chest with every second he watches resentment fill your features.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your head shakes. It’s automatic. Can’t he see out of those gorgeous brown eyes?

His voice remains gentle, “Stop it – look.”

His fingers gently fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he’s pulling it up, careful as he pries it from your body and slides it over your head. Your arms automatically go to cross over your chest, to cover the suddenly exposed skin, but he doesn’t have it.

“No.”

His hands are warm on your shoulders, palms soft as they rub soothingly up and down your arms, and you don’t bother hiding the sadness anymore. Why bother? He already knows.

“What were those affirmations from your new year resolution?”

You snort before you can help it. “They were bullshit –”

He didn’t think so. You were all about them for the first few weeks – writing them in your journal, saying them in the mirror while he watched from behind the shower curtain. You even made him write some down and they’re still stuck to the side of his computer screen in his office.

“What were they? And look at yourself when you say them.”

You heave a sigh, eyes rolling from his to meet your own in the reflection. “I am strong.”

He mhm’s softly into your neck, chin resting softly on your shoulder. “And?”

“I am powerful.”

“Incredibly so. And?”

“I am beautiful.”

“Yeah, you are. Now again.”

“Marcus –”

“Again.”

You do as he asks, heart thundering in your chest as his hands smooth down along your torso and across the skin of your stomach, wrapping you up in his arms as he watches you. He turns you once you finish, hand tenderly smoothing along your cheek before cupping your jaw.

“I know this won’t fix it, I know what you’re feeling goes deeper than this, and I know nothing I do will take your pain away, but will you let me try, honey?”

His thumbs sweep under your eyes, brushing away the tears that had fallen from your lashes, and you smile, heart thundering in your chest as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You really didn’t deserve Marcus Pike, but God were you lucky.

“I love you.”

He grins, eyes shining, “I love you.”

A part of you says no, no he doesn’t, but then his hands gently cradle your face and bring your lips to his, and you’re lost in the slow movements of his kiss, unaware he was backing you up to the bed until the backs of your knees hit the sides and you’re falling back onto it with a startled giggle.

You try to fight off the wave of hesitation when he goes for the button of your jeans and relax, but he can feel your reluctance, always so attuned to you and what you were feeling. He pauses, fingers stopping their movements as he looks at you.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know why you’re whispering. It’s just so quiet in the bedroom, so still, maybe you were afraid of shattering the silence.

He continues then, slipping the button through the loop and pulling your fly down before he grabbing the denim and dragging it softly down your legs. You lift your hips, shimmy a little to get them past your thighs and smile at his soft expression when he settles on his knees between your legs after throwing your jeans to the floor.

There was something magical about being the sole focus of Marcus Pike’s attention. Your skin hums under his gentle touch, goosebumps following the path of his fingers as they dance softly over your body. You don’t shy away from his open gaze; don’t cross your arms over your chest and try to hide your thighs like your mind is screaming at you to do. You just simply lay among the pillows, letting his eyes crawl over every inch of you.

And there’s no disgust hiding anywhere on his face. No flicker of repulsion. No curl of the nose or judgement in his gaze.

It’s pure admiration, pure awe.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You want to scoff, you know that’s not the truth – the planet is full of drop-dead stunning women – but the longer he stares at you, looking all over your body and straight into your wide eyes, you think maybe he’s not lying… maybe there is a tiny bit of truth to his statement and, well, what’s the harm in believing it? If only just for a little while.

So you smile, heart beating wildly when he grins in return, eyes soft as he reaches back and pulls his tee off in one smooth swipe, and then moves to hover carefully over you. You welcome the soothing heat of his skin as he presses into you, hands greedily grabbing at his back as trails his lips across the skin of your jaw, nipping softly at your throat before he moves to your lips.

It’s easy to lose yourself in his steady stream of affection, your mind all but blanking as he steals the breath from your lungs, his tongue taking the last of any coherent thoughts as it moves along your own. He swallows your whimper and presses further into you, grinding his hips slowly into yours and relishing in your quiet moan.

He softly pulls away, keeping his voice low as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question, and he smiles before kissing his way down your jaw, following the path to the curve of your shoulder to where the flesh of your breast melts from the cup of your bra.

He pauses, eyes flicking up to yours, “Still okay?”

You lift your chest to answer his question, one of his hands quick to whip around your body and undo the clasp before pulling it away from your completely. He inhales quietly, watching your breasts fall to a more natural position once free of the bra, and heat creeps along your ears the longer he stares, wandering hands moving to cup the soft flesh delicately.

A light sigh leaves you when his thumbs brush over your nipples, circling over the stiff peaks before he rips a surprised gasp from your lips. His fingers tickle the harsh sting of his pinch away before he envelopes a nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, tongue soothing any remaining pain. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before pulling way to blow softly over the wet skin, chuckling quietly at the way you squirm under him.

He continues his slow journey downwards, but stops when he reaches your stomach. A part of you doesn’t want to look at him – what if he doesn’t like it? But then you’re reminded that he’s seen you naked hundreds of times, in all sorts of places and positions. Why would now be any different?

So you look at him, eyes following to where he rests comfortably between your thighs, gaze already trained on you with an air of soft fondness. He smiles when you look at him, and only when you look at him do you realise what patterns his fingers are tracing over your skin – he’s tracing your stretchmarks.

The sudden wave of apprehension is washed away when his lips trace over the shallow valleys in your skin, kissing along every single one he could see while his fingers continued running up and down your sides softly.

“Marcus,” you giggle, when he moves too close to the ticklish spot above your hip.

“What?” He asks innocently, a loud raspberry quickly cutting through the peace of the bedroom as he nuzzles into your side. You laugh louder, squirming against his hold and batting him away as he continues his attack. He glows when he sees the lazy smile stretching your features, no shadows hanging in the back of your eyes.

“Idiot.” You mutter affectionately, smile widening.

“Your idiot.”

His fingers trace over the waistband of your panties, waiting for your go ahead before they slide under the fabric and move them softly down your legs. He discards them off the side of the bed and hums lowly when your legs part under his gentle coaxing, eyes zeroing in on your folds shining with the arousal that had built from his tender ministrations.

“This okay?” He whispers, eyes watching the way your brow creases when he runs his fingers up and down your slit, his cock jumping in his pyjama bottoms when he feels your arousal coat his fingertips.

“Mhmm.” You relax into the pillows, eyes closing in bliss at the rhythmic circles he was rubbing over your clit. “Marcus?”

“Yeah honey?”

You knew where this was going, and as much as you adored his tongue and the absolute magic he could make with it, you just wanted him close. Your hands greedily grab at him, “Come ‘ere.”

He frowns, pouting as his fingers dip into your heat. “But I –”

“Not tonight. I just want you… please?”

He softens, nodding with a smile as he melts back over you, lips eagerly meeting with yours as you feel the weight of his body carefully press into you. He shimmies out of his pyjama bottoms, quick to settle back in between your legs and you exhale shakily as the head of his cock slides between your folds, a fire kickstarting in your stomach as he lazily drags his hips back and pushes forward until he runs his tip over your clit again and again.

His hand darts in between your bodies, fumbling to line himself up with your entrance as your lips work messily against his, throwing his thoughts into a complete jumble, and it’s not long until he’s sinking into you, bottoming out in your wet heat with a low groan. Your walls flutter deliciously around him and his hips jolt, before he’s rolling forward and starting a steady, unhurried pace.

“I love you,” he whispers as you pant below him, the slow drag of his hips against your clit as he grinds into you steadily building the fire in your core.

You can’t help the tears that build in your eyes, the intense power of his adoring gaze too much for your damaged heart to handle, but he doesn’t let you turn away, he won’t let you hide. His forehead meets yours, hands moving to intertwine tightly with yours as you breathe in the other, the slow pressure of his hips staying steady as your chest tightens from the sparkle in his dark eyes.

You put that sparkle there. You can see it now.

It was love.

Your love, his love –

It all morphed together in a wild frenzy of colours and sounds and everything was just right. Here now, with him, everything was right. There was no pain, no doubt… just pure devotion. Your heart struggles with the pressure of it all, chest threatening to surrender under the weight, but you welcome it eagerly, desperate to feel and breathe all of him as he moves over you.

The tears break free. “Marcus –”

“I know. I’ve got you, honey.”

“I love you,” you murmur, sniffing quietly as you wiggle a hand free to tangle into the damp locks at the back of his head to keep his forehead pressed against yours. His nose runs softly along your own and your heart squeezes at the sweet tenderness of it. “So fucking much –”

His face crumbles, completely unashamed as a wave of tears build in his own eyes, his own insecurities biting at the back of his mind, and he nods, pushing the shadows away and instead, nuzzling into you and your warmth.

“I know – almost as much as I love you.”

You share a watery smile, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek to collect the stray tear that falls free and then he’s moving, your hands winding to grab at his back as he picks up the pace, keeping the pressure of his hips rolling against your clit and you cry out quietly as your stomach tightens with the threat of your oncoming crash of pleasure.

He senses it, moves just that little more desperately against you, and then you’re shattering under him, eyes closing as fire floods your veins and rips through your body. He falls with you, his own end coaxed on by the sudden tightening off your hot walls and the rush of slick that floods him. He shudders above you, face pinching as he fills you, and you moan when you feel his cock twitch inside you.

You pull him to rest in your arms, head tucked comfortably in the curve of your shoulder as he huffs into your throat. You try to steady your own breathing, your heart beating wildly against your chest as the post-climax tingles settle into your limbs, your body melting into the bed as exhaustion rolls through you.

He’s gentle as he pulls out of you, carefully falling next to you, and watching you shift onto your side to face him with a languid smile.

His voice is barely a whisper, his fingers moving to find yours as his racing heart calms. “You really are incredible, honey.”

Heat crawls along your chest and fills your cheeks, “You’re not so bad yourself, Agent Pike.”

“Seriously,” he says quietly, “I wish you could see it.”

You swallow the sudden lump building in your throat, and you smile widely at him, filled with such a sudden wave of confidence you wish it would last. “One day I will.” And you know in your heart that it could be possible, it would be. “One day.”

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#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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Shattered Hearts // Luke Patterson

Summary: The teenage years are supposed to the best time of life but not when fate has other plans for Sunset Curve. Not feeling well reader stays home while Luke prepares for the performance of his life at The Orpheum. Shit hits the fan hard and the fallout ensues.

Warnings: Swearing, death, hospital, cancer (type is not detailed) angst, and fluff.

Words: 2.3k

Requested: @lolychu

A/N: I didn’t go into detail about the kind of cancer because I didn’t want to, I want it to be as general as it could. I’ve never gone through it or had someone close go through it so it could be wrong and I apologize for that. Broken heart syndrome is REAL by the way.

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1995

There are articles of some medical mysteries that can’t fully be scientifically explained, such as when someone dies in excellent health following the death of a loved one. The scientific term is takotsubo cardiomyopathy, but the world knows it merely by Broken Heart Syndrome. It was a day that was supposed to be the greatest of your teenage years, but the day couldn’t have gone any worse.

First, you woke up with an incredibly high fever and newfound bruises. Pain in a wrist out of nowhere but you wrote it off. You had plans, and illness wasn’t scheduled for the day. Your boyfriend and his band had gotten their big break, well their almost big break. Today was the day Sunset Curve would perform at The Orpheum, and you were gonna be backstage cheering them on.

Luke made his appearance at your house in the morning before early rehearsal, and you managed to convince him you were feeling okay. He went on to their studio, and your mother drove you to the hospital in fear.

Life was an asshole. While you waited for test results pale against the hospital sheets, an ambulance rolled in. Carrying three bodies that would go to the morgue for positive confirmation of death. You wouldn’t know for a full day, Luke’s parents too grief-stricken to call you and that’s okay.

“Mom?” You asked as her form caved in on the floor near your hospital bed, “Mom!”

Her eyes filled with so much pain brought you fear and concern. With a struggle, she came closer to hold your hand tightly and spoke brokenly the fate that would snatch you.

“Baby, you don’t have the flu.”

“That’s good? So just meds and we can go home?” You asked heart clenching as her eyes closed tight and you knew whatever the doctor had told her after pulling her out of the room wasn’t good.

Couldn’t be good with the slump in her shoulders, the pain in her eyes and the guilt coating her every word. Mom wasn’t a housewife; she wasn’t a flower in need of protection, but she never kept something from you. Always said it straight and as it is.

“Sweetheart, they’re gonna move you to another ward.” You knew deep in your heart the news had to be the worst because Mom wasn’t telling you the whole story. Finally, she broke down, “The doctors got the results back as soon as they could. The fever, the bruises, and the broken wrist have a reason. You have cancer.”

Cancer. A word that sealed your fate. It left you reeling in shock. It shattered your dream with just one single name. Couldn’t be seen but made its presence known. The coming hour was spent with the specialist detailing the type and a tentative treatment plan he wanted to initiate immediately.

A nurse escorted your mother out as the orderlies and nurses prepped you to be moved to a new room. Knowing you were in good hands, your mom walked to the main doors for fresh air only to be astounded at the sight of Mitch and Emily Patterson. Equally shocked, they came together.

“Emily?” Your mom spoke, looking carefully at the parents of your boyfriend. She wondered how the Patterson’s had found out, “Did someone call you?”

“No.” Emily spoke with a numb voice. Your mom took a step back, understanding that one could only react that way for one thing. Something had happened to the Patterson teenager.

“Luke isn’t here, is he?” Your mom asked, turning to look up at the tall building of the hospital, “Y/N, hasn’t had a phone. She only found out, but Luke hasn’t been with you-“

“The cops came,” Mitch spoke tucking his upset wife into his arms. He was equally as grief-stricken and bitter, but he had to be calm for his wife. They wouldn’t get anywhere if one of them couldn’t get answers.

Your mom gasped, “No.”

“I always knew that band-“Emily’s own sob cut her words off as her knees threatened to buckle. Your mom helped lead Emily into the emergency room before she jogged off to join you but not before turning to the Patterson parents.

“We’ll meet up. Discuss why we’re all here.”

Being told you had cancer and then informed your boyfriend died all in one night was the most painful thing you had to live through. It was weeks of screaming, invasive procedures and therapy sessions. Your father came from his business trip to Dubai as soon as he could and didn’t leave your side.

A painful six months rolled with cancer stealing your hopes and a fucking bad hotdog taking your dreams away. Nothing made you curious. Nothing felt worth living for.

Not the realistic watercolour tattoo your parents let you get of Luke’s blue guitar you loved so much. It seemed to have a terminally sick child made it practically impossible to say no to, so you got a tattoo of your favourite lyrics of Sunset Curve.

In pretty font, it said ‘When all the days felt black and white. Those were the best shades of my life’ just like it said in Now or Never. One of your favourite songs, you got the privilege of watching Luke create.

“Mom, can I have a popsicle?” You asked from your bed. Eyes barely open as she nodded off her chair, “My mouth is dry.”

“Of course.” She nodded, leaving the room with a kiss on your forehead. Both of you mumbling I love you just in case. You felt like your clock was close to the end, so every word had meaning.

It was a good day so far; you hadn’t had to press for more pain medication like the last couple of weeks. You had managed to turn to stare out the window at the pretty sky. Your eyes fluttered shut completely content that this was it.

Your mom returned to a room with doctors and nurses trying to resuscitate you with your father screaming. No one could figure out if it was the cancer or the broken heart syndrome that killed you first. Your death was a double blow to Luke’s parents the most, along with Reggie and Alex’s own parents.

Los Angeles, 2020

So much had changed since you died in 1995. Phones had changed, and buildings were torn down. You changed as well too. In relief physically, you had changed from the gaunt, skinny, pale patient to the girl you had been before the diagnosis.

Your hair now looked as healthy as it had been before you had cancer and you weren’t gaunt looking. You were looked just like you did a few months before you got diagnosed and you hoped so since you were dead. It would have sucked to be dead and beyond ugly.

“Do you think she went on to have a family?”

You kept your attention on the waves crashing the beach content to watch the waves doing the same movement they had since the beginning. You paid no attention to the group walking by. Not until one tripped over you landing in an awkward heap.

“Ouch!” The voice hissed. Your eyes flicked down to Reginald fucking Hastings’s blue eyes in pure shock. You scrambled away from the teenager with a sharp scream that pierced the ghoul group.

“Jesus.” You grumbled pushing the little sand that had stuck somehow to your body made of air.

“Oh my god. I think I just summoned Luke’s girlfriend.” Reggie hissed towards the equally astounded members of former Sunset Curve and current Julie and the Phantoms bandmates.

“No, you idiot we’re dead.” You spoke, taking a deep breath in, “After not seeing you for five years I thought you passed on. I’ve been travelling around America and Canada. Something felt like I needed to come home.”

“When did you die?” Alex questioned sadly when you were quiet. His sad blue eyes unable to leave your expressive face, he hoped somehow you had lived to your 90s and died to come back youthful.

“It’s wasn’t harm-“

“No, Luke. I don’t think I’ll ever positively know what happened, but the night you guys died my life ended as well.” You revealed sitting back, letting the three boys join you for an intriguing story to them. Luke wasn’t hesitant in grasping your hand in his, “Funny enough your bodies were being unloaded in the morgue while I was being told by my Mom, I had cancer. The battle was hard but short.”

“Cancer?”

“Our love story was destined to be tragic, whether it be cancer or a hotdog.” You told the teenage guitarist to experience in the afterlife to be gentle about it. The three boys flinched from the indifference, “Have you visited your parents yet? My parents are home for a few weeks.”

“My neighbourhood was torn down. Alex doesn’t know about his and-“

“-I’ve seen my folks once so far.” Luke finished playing with your fingers, “You say our love story was tragic, I say it would be tragic if we hadn’t had the chance in life that we did.”

You nodded your head, “Where have you guys been?”

All three boys took their chaotic turn in describing their last meal to Reggie tripping over you with the belief of walking through you. They were in a band with a lifer who made them visible to the public when playing music together. You told them that your parents would choose a destination from your dream travel journal; you would follow them on the adventures.

Slowly you met Julie who put up a distance as she acclimated to having the girlfriend of her crush around always. Julie couldn’t help the feeling of jealously when Luke focused on the teen ghost girl. She couldn’t even hate you! You were so lovely and welcoming to the girl with respect for boundaries, in fact, you were exactly the girl she would have been friends with. Julie loved Flynn, but she could be over the top and dramatic sometimes.

“Good rehearsal. I’ll meet you outside.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You nodded before walking through the white, painted barn doors.

Everything put away properly; Luke was quick to meet up with his girlfriend for their date. Alex noticed the stare by Julie. He had seen it for the past few weeks since you were introduced to the passionate musician with a beautiful voice.

“I’m really sorry, Julie.” Alex softly told the sad Puerto Rican girl yearning to hug the teenager but alas his ghostly body couldn’t allow it.

“Did I have an honest chance before she came back?” Julie asked. Her doe brown eyes bringing Reggie’s attention to the conversation at hand.

“No.” Reggie answered this time solemn with his blue eyes holding no mirth or childlike glee, “Luke’s been in love with her for years. She’s his all or nothing.”

“I didn’t have a chance between them, and I don’t want you between them either. It’s not a nice place to be even if I was mutually breaking up with his as well.” Alex soothed the live girl yearning to physically comfort her but alas that damn hotdog ruined everything.

“Luke also said when the first big payment came, he would marry her. He wanted to give her the wedding of her dreams.” Reggie unintentionally rubbed the salt in Julie’s wound on the topic of her tragic love story.

Julie learnt to deal with the pain of seeing Luke, so in love and happier than before you had reconnected. In her fashion, she had hidden a new box for her thoughts that was so well hidden the boys would never find it. It was filled with papers that progressively got less romance angst.

“I’m just saying,” Alex spoke, raising his hands in the air after another one of Luke’s emotional rants on the loss of things in death. Such as marrying you.

“Dude, we’re dead, and our ghost connections happen to either be our band, Willie or a very questionable sketchy vintage magician.” Luke snapped slouching on his couch sulking as you were spending time with your family no matter how oblivious they were to your presence.

“I’m ordained.” Willie supplied sitting next to the blonde drummer who had easily swayed from Caleb to the good side again. At the group’s looks of disbelief, he continued, “I was bored! Took some art classes too. It won’t be the average wedding, but you could still call each other spouse.”

“I can check local clubs for wedding dresses. Flynn can easily put together music and Alex can find a venue.” Julie piped up, avoiding the sympathetic look from Reggie, who still thought the teenager had feelings for his bandmate. She no longer did.

“You can use one of your rings on a chain as well. Maybe hold off on getting a ring until we get money from the band.” Reggie gave his input, earning himself a proud expression from Alex; an expression the drummer rarely was able to give his friend.

“I guess I’m proposing.” Luke beamed already thinking of ways to make his proposal special, not like being ghosts wasn’t already impressive enough.

It wasn’t the ideal wedding, but it honestly didn’t matter as long as the two of you were able to vow yourself to each other. It no longer mattered on the details other than you two.

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#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp luke #jatp fanfic #jatp #caitsy and ash productions

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jawabear · 3 years

Note

Hello, can I request a fic for Whiskey with prompts 58 and 70 from your prompt list

Brick Wall (Agent Whiskey x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Hi. Sorry this took so long Anon! And I’m sorry it sucks! I’ve been super stressed lately and my brain is all over the place. But I hope you enjoy it. It got better as I went which is good but...I don’t know. I just feel a little all over the place. But writing helps me :) hope you enjoy it! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Prompts: 58. Please don’t cry 70. I have feelings you know

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, crying, drinking, coldness, I don’t really know, not a lot I don’t think

Summary: Finally, he gets to go on a mission with the girl he loves, but she’s not exactly gifted in the social graces like he is

“Tell me again why I’m the one who has to do this” (Y/N) groaned as she adjusted her dress. It was far too snug for her liking. But her like was to not be in a dress at all. But when attending a fancy charity ball got the sake of a mission, she was a little out of options.

“Because all other female agents are currently otherwise occupied” Ginger explained for what felt like the hundredth time to her. (Y/N) wasn’t entirely thrilled about being pulled onto a mission with the most obnoxious agent in the agency.

“You hurt me darlin’. Thought we were going to have a nice time tonight” talk of the devil. Agent Whiskey, Jack Daniels, stood in the door way of Ginger’s office.

As much as he annoyed (Y/N), she had to admit, he cleaned up good.

He stood there dressed in a specially tailored sleek black suit with a nicely pressed white shirt and black tie. He didn’t wear his signature Stetson which was a little off outing actually. But his hair was neatly slicked back, he looked pretty dashing.

But (Y/N) was good at hiding her emotions and gave him no expression as she looked him up and down.

Jack on the other hand was not as good at hiding his emotions. And when he look at her, you could read him like a book. His face said what his words couldn’t. He stared at her with his mouth open, his eyes raking up and down her body, loving the way the red dress hugged her body so perfectly. Showing off those beautiful curves she had. He had never seen her dress as such, mainly because she never had.

“Wow sweetheart..” his voice was low “you look...wow”

“Thanks” she muttered “but I feel ridiculous. Let’s just go and get it over with so I can take this stupid thing off” she slipped her gun into her thigh holster and walk past him.

Jack turned to look at Ginger who gave him a soft look in return. “What am I supposed to do?” He sighed “the woman despises me. How the fuck am I ever going to tell her how I feel?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Jack” Ginger shrugged “she’s a complicated person. And as frustrating as it may be for you, you may have to either give it up, or just tell her”

“I can’t...give it up. She’s...I’m head over heals for her”

“Then tell her. This is your chance. The perfect opportunity to tell her how you feel because it will be just the two of you”

“Yeah...I guess you’re right...”

“But in between that, make sure you complete the mission this time”

“This is a fucking shit-show” (Y/N) hisses under her breath “we’ve been here for nearly three hours and still no sign of any of them”

Jack downed the rest of his whiskey and placed his now empty glass on the bar he was leaning on, it being swiftly taken away by the bar tender but Jack was waved off the offer of another.

“Let’s face it Jack” she said to him “this mission is a bust. They’re not coming”

Jack nodded in agreement “I guess you’re right” he reached over and grabbed her hands pulling her towards the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, slight anger in her voice at being dragged against her will.

“Just because they’re not going to show up, doesn’t mean we can enjoy tonight” he assumed the classic dance position. One hand joined with her and his other arm snaking around her waist in a firm grip to keep her there, but he knew she was string enough to get out of his hold without using much of her effort.

She said nothing but just glared at him. This didn’t deter him from beginning to waltz her in a small circle to the slow beat of the music being played. For a while she allowed him to dance with her, if you could really call it that. She wasn’t exactly making it easy for him. Her body was stiff, he wicked been better off dancing with a brick wall at this point. But despite that, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Even if she was being difficult, he couldn’t deny the joy just being with her brought him. How he was the one who got to see her dressed up so nicely. He didn’t have the words to describe how beautiful she looked. How well she seemed to fit in with all the stuck up rich people surrounding them, calling themselves beautiful. But no one was more deserving of that word than she was.

Still, his frustration at her lack of cooperation was growing inside him. He wasn’t one to get angry, especially not to those he liked, but she admitted herself that the mission was a bust, there was no reason why she couldn’t let her guard down.

“There’s no one here you need to impress. So you can stop being so uptight and cold” his mouth betrayed him. He didn’t want to say anything to her about it. But the words slipped out without his consent.

Her eyes went wide at his words. Her body tensed. But her shock soon switched to anger. Anger he had never seen in her eyes before, it was more of a hurt anger than anything.

“Fuck you Jack” she hissed before yanking her hands from him and turning sharply, cleverly weaving herself through the crowd of people.

He immediately regretted what he said. He didn’t mean it. Well, not really anyway. He wanted her to relax, to feel comfortable around him. He should’ve worded it better, not just straight up insult her.

For a moment he just stood there awkwardly, none of the surrounding guests seemed to pay him any attention as he stood there. But when he finally came to his senses again, he stormed off in her footsteps. He had to apologise. He had to tell her how he felt before he fucked it up even more.

The trail lead him out on to a balcony where she lent against the stone wall, the moonlight outlined her perfect body so beautifully he almost didn’t want to approach her. He just wanted to look at her for a little while longer.

But he had to say something to her. He swallowed thickly and took cautious steps in her direction. When he looked at her, he saw her head hanging low as she stared at the ground way down under them. He felt so guilty that it was because of him she looked so...hurt.

“Sweetheart-“ he tried, reaching out his hand to stroke her cheek but she swatted it away and gave him a sharp look.

“I know I don’t always act like it but I have feelings you know” she turned back away from him and lent against the railing. “I’m not...just the heartless person everyone thinks I am..”

“You’re not heartless (Y/N), no one thinks you are-“

“Oh Jack. Just fucking stop okay? You know as well as I do that everyone hates me. Everyone thinks I’m heartless and...and cold. And yeah, maybe I am. But it’s not my fault. It...it wasn’t my fault...”

Jack didn’t need her to explained herself. He knew her story inside and out. He knew about all the traumas in her past. And he knew that anyone who faced close to what she did would find it difficult to smile again.

He noticed, when he looked back at her, that a tear fell down her cheek, perfectly reflecting the pale light of the full moon above them. “(Y/N)” He said her name quietly and reached over to her cheek again, but this time she didn’t shoo him away, she let him touch her. Jack took her face in both hands, tilting her head up so their eyes met. “Please don’t cry” his thumbs brushed gently under her eyes, wiping her tears away.

In perhaps a strange way, she looked beautiful when she cried. He had never seen her cry before. The way her eyes sparkled in the moon light made his heart flutter. There was no one more beautiful than her. He could feel himself getting lost in her eyes. Just getting lost. Getting closer, closer, closer to her...

She drew in a sharp breath and pulled her face from his hands. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and looked away from him “we should...get back to the mission” she muttered before taking a few steps away from him back towards the inside of the building.

But she was stopped when a firm hand took her arm. “Fuck the mission” he told her. She looked at his over her shoulder and saw the slight glimpse of desperation in his eyes.

“What?” She whispered, a little shocked but his sudden words “Jack...we have a job to do” she didn’t attempt to worm her way from his sturdy grasp, she quite enjoyed the warm of his ridiculously large hands on her bare arm.

“Fuck the mission” he said again, “you said it yourself, it’s a bust. A shit-show. So now I just wanna spend tonight with you” Jack carefully pulled her back into his chest and resumed the dancing position from earlier.

“Jack-“ she tried but she didn’t exactly know what she wanted to say. She wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to spend a lovely night with Agent Whiskey, but they had a job to do.

“Fuck it, (Y/N). For tonight. Fuck ‘em all. I just want it to be me and you tonight. I want to show you that not everyone thinks you’re heartless. Some think you are the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the world”

“And who among the people think that, Jack?” She asked with a slightly laugh as he began to gently sway them from side to side, going in circles as well, but slowly.

“I do” he admitted “I think you’re amazing. And you are sweet. You’re kind, you’re funny, you have a mind that puts Ginger’s to shame. And you’re just the prettiest damn girl there ever has been in this world. And I-“ he cut himself of abruptly. The hopeful look in her eyes was too much for him. It made his heart pound in his chest and he would be surprised if she couldn’t hear it.

“You what?” She whispered as she gently ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

He blinked a few times and didn’t answer with words. Instead he leaned down and pressed his lips to her in a soft kiss. Into the kiss he poured every ounce of love he had for her. And she did the same back. Her hand squeezing his as she pushed her lips against his. He pulled his hand and his arm from her and took her face between them instead. Holding her lips against his for as long as possible. Her hands rested on his hips, unsure of where else to put them.

His lips fell from her, but their foreheads pressed together. “I’ve fallen for you” He whispered, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks.

She smiled. It was a faint smile, but it was there. And it was beautiful.

“I’ve fallen for you too, Jack” she said “I’m...I’m sorry about what I said...”

“It was my fault. I should be the one apologising. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said what I did”

“Jack?”

“Yeah darlin’?”

“Kiss me again”

He let out a soft chuckled and brought his lips back down onto hers “anything for you beautiful”

22/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you wanted to be added or removed from the list)

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfic #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic #kingsman: the golden circle #angst #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 1/2

So my friend wrote this fic but she didn’t have anywhere to post it so we decided to share it here! All creds go to her 🤪

I’ll post part 2 tomorrow, which is when it gets spicyyyy

“Y/N I am leaving for the night. You know what to do and your paycheck is on the desk in my office.”

And with those final words, a cheeky wink, and the slam of the back door, your boss stalked out of the empty bar. He wasn’t a bad person but a lousy boss and an even lousier business owner. Most of the liquor went into his morning, afternoon, or evening coffee sometimes forgoing the coffee altogether. You overheard some of the other workers in the area saying that this place was gonna go under pretty soon. Even without the boss’s nasty habit of drinking the alcohol, you’re are in a part of town that doesn’t attract many people. On a busy night you might have three or four people come in for a lonely drink. It was a lonely place and a lonely job but it was easy work and the boss always seemed to pay you more than what the job is worth. Just another poor business practice.

Tonight had been the same as usual. You came into work at 6 and set up the bar for opening at 6:30. It wasn’t until 9:45 that another soul entered the bar. He was one of the usuals and it was nice having another human being to chat with while you fixed his drink. He made the routine comments about how you’re still young and shouldn't be working in a run down place like this, and you gave him the same answer as always that you were saving up to finish school, and that it was a fine job. When he left it was back to mindless wiping of surfaces and organizing the glasses and no one to talk to. It was 11:30 now and no one else had entered the bar, but that was normal. It was almost closing time now, and the boss never minded if you shut down 15 minutes early.

You were locking up the liquor, back turned to the rest of the bar when two male voices came from the front door. That’s weird you didn’t hear the door. They seemed to be arguing, and one of them seemed to be in pain based on his frequent groans and strained voice.

“Sorry we’re closing up for the night.” you yelled, continuing the shuffling of bottles.

“And who in the hell are you?”

You had heard that voice before, but that was insane, just a coincidence. However at that moment you felt an arm roughly grab around your waist and a strong lock around your wrists violently pushing them into your back.

“OUCH! WHAT THE HELL?!”

You were violently pushed around, body finally turned to see the man that wasn’t currently restraining you from behind. If this was some dumb cartoon your jaw would have touched the floor. What the hell was going on? All logical thought swept from your brain. How could this be? This man could not be standing in front of you. No you’re dreaming. You must be. You fell asleep at work and you’re dreaming. Okay. Okay. You just need to wake yourself up. Yeah that's it. You tried pinching yourself but you couldn’t move your hands out of the tight grip. The only unrestrained part of your body were your legs. You violently landed a kick to your left shin.

“FUCKING SHIT!!” Was that supposed to hurt that much in a dream?

“If that was aimed at me, you’re pathetic” The deep voice behind you chuckled lightly at the self inflicted kick. You felt the reverberations of the low tone where your body was pressed against his. You knew that voice too! You looked down at the arm still gripping threateningly around your waist. Charred skin ran all the way down to the hand where a ring of staples held it to viable flesh. Oh my god. This can’t be happening. You continued to violently kick yourself, closing your eyes tightly before opening them again, persistently trying to wake yourself up and make sense of this situation.

“Hey. Hey. Hey quit squirming” You felt a leg separating your own, preventing you from further abuse to your shins. The arm around your waist tightened in support since your legs started to give out.

“Crusty come help me out I think she’s gonna faint”

When you opened your eyes, the lights of the bar were harsh against your blurry vision and foggy brain.

“That was a weird dream. What time is it?” you wondered aloud, looking up for the clock on the wall.

“And she’s back, and this isn’t a dream sweetheart.” the deep voice sent a shock down your spine.

No way. Your eyes darted to the two men standing next to the bar. It was only then you realized you were slumped awkwardly in one of the leather chairs scattered throughout the room, ropes replacing the rough hands from earlier.

“Now as I asked you before? Who the hell are you?” This time it was the scratchy voice that shot at you. The familiar lanky form of Tomura Shigaraki was leaning against the bar, this time the edges of his frame curved into shadow and his height adding much more presence than what you could have imagined.

“You… you’re Tomura Shigaraki” you stuttered in shock.

“I asked for your name girl, not mine. Now spit it out” He barked impatiently.

“I-I-mm Y-yy-/N-nn”

“What are you doing here?” He shot again.

“I-I work here” Eyes darting between the two men you’ve studied so closely before, but always through a screen. This can’t be real. They can’t be real. It was rather ironic how defiant your mind was being to the presence of two men you had spent hours watching, reading, and fantasizing about but this was insane.

“No you don’t.” Shigaraki’s voice becoming more and more impatient with your slow and stupid answers.

“This bar has been closed for years.” Dabi stated flatly as though proving you’re lying.

“I can’t believe this. This has to be a dream” you started mumbling to yourself quickly trying to understand how this was reality.

“HEY! This isn’t a dream, you stupid girl! Now tell us why you're in our bar!”

“You’re Tomura Shigaraki and you’re Dabi from My Hero Academia” you started calming down and succumbing to the fact that this was happening even if you were going crazy. Two villains from an anime you watch are standing in front of you seemingly real.

“From wha–– oh nevermind. What’s your quirk?” Shigraki continued to shoot questions at you but none of his words could cut through the hurricane of questions storming through your brain.

“How are you guys real? How are you guys here?”

“I am the one asking questions here. Now tell me what your quirk is?” He said annoyedly, starting to scratch his neck.

“I don’t have a quirk. No one here does”

“What are you talking about? Nearly everyone has a quirk.” Dabi questioned coldly.

“This is the real world. There are no such things as quirks here.” You continued finally allowing yourself to come to the ludacris idea that this was in fact reality.

“Very funny. Dabi what do you say we just kill her?” Shigaraki said with a sadistic grin evident behind the hand, taking a step closer to you. Dabi shrugged leaning against the bar, an air of unamusement lingering in his face.

“WAIT...wait...What if I can prove to you that this is a different reality?”

“Well go on then prove it” Shigraki teased continuing his advance on you.

“You’re Tomura Shigaraki leader of the League of Villains ––”

“Blah Blah everyone knows that” He said annoyed now looming over you, his deadly hands reaching out.

Closing your eyes and turning away from him, you continued to spurt out facts, waiting to be turned into ash.

“Your real name is Tenko Shimura, the hand on your face you refer to as father, you…”

SLAP! Your face stung but your body still seemed to be intact. When you dared to open your eyes, Shigraki’s face was inches from yours, murderous crimson glaring at you from between the fingers of his mask. Pinned into the chair between his two arms gripping the armrests, you were trapped.

“How do you know that?” He said through clenched teeth.

“You’re a character from an anime I watch. I’ve watched you guys for months”

“Liar. You must have hacked us or stolen or….” You could tell he was trying to figure out how you knew information that isn’t in any record or known by anyone.

“I promise. I didn’t do any of that. I am telling the truth.” you continued to plead.

“What about me? Do you know shit about me?” Dabi didn’t seem to be convinced.

“Ummm...Well I know your name is Touya Todoroki and you’re the oldest son of Endeavor and...

“You’re the son of Endeavor?” Shigaraki standing up and looking at him revolted.

“Hey I didn’t say that. She did.” Dabi seemed pissed behind the flat face.

“Okay but SHE seems to know everything about us so…”

“Fine. What do we do then? Kill her?” Dabi asked.

“Fine by me.” Shigaraki shrugs. You stared helplessly as the blue haired man turned back to you still tied in the chair.

“Wait! I know information about other people. I’ll tell you everything I know please”

“Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind”

The excitement was evident in his scratchy voice as he violently grabbed your face smushing your cheeks together uncomfortably. Shigaraki’s cold fingers dug into your skin, nails sharp and ragged. You could see his pointer finger still raised in your field of vision. You shut your eyes tightly as he slowly brought his pointer finger down to meet his others. You waited for something to happen. Were you already dead? Was it that simple? You opened an eye when you felt Shigaraki’s nails dig further into your skin. He was still standing in front of you with his hand still on your face, just as confused as you were on why you weren’t a pile of ash.

“I guess your quirks were erased when...”

SLAP! Where his hand had laid flat moments before was now red and stinging as he landed his second blow to your face tonight.

“Scar face any fire?” he shot, standing up straight again and turning towards Dabi.

“Nope. I am just as useless as you” Dabi returned.

You could see the annoyance fuming in Shigaraki’s eyes as the realization that what you had been stating was true. He was currently stuck in a different dimension with no quirks. You let out a sigh of relief, glad that you didn’t have to be worried about being turned into ash by either men.

“Alright brat” Shigaraki hissed turning back to you. “ What were you saying about information?”

“Well like I said before. You two are characters in an anime in this universe, and that means I know just as much about other characters... I mean other people in your universe. Of course not everything but just what’s been released”

“An anime you say. What’s this show called?”

“Um…” You hesitated knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer”

“Spit it out”

“My Hero Academia”

“Tch. Of fucking course it’s about the heros.” He said the last word with such disdain that it oozed onto the floor.

“Let me guess. All Might is the main character?”

“Well not exactly.”

“Then who the fuck is it?”

“Well….Izuku Midoriya”

“That annoying little green haired brat is the main character?! What makes him so special?”

“Well that’s kind of a long story and the whole premise of the show”

“Well we’ve got time, and we need to figure out how in the hell we got here and how the fuck we’re gonna get back, so keep talking”

“Fine, but first untie me.”

“What did you say?” Shigaraki questioned. A small chuckle came from Dabi who was now playing with the toothpicks you used in drinks, lazily moving them around with his hands, one already perched between his teeth.

“I told you to untie me” You were gaining some confidence since you realized you had the upper hand.

“There are no quirks here and I have no intent on trying to deceive you two, believe me I know what you’re capable of ” They could still harm you in many ways but you were a source of information and someone who understood their situation.

“So if you would please untie me. I promise to help you” At this point you surmised that they had somehow been warped here by someone else’s quirk either in or after some kind of fight. Shigaraki had a growing bloodstain seeping through his jeans, and Dabi had some deep cuts and few staples loose. Dabi and Shigaraki looked at eachother deciding whether or not to trust me.

“Look” You said exasperatedly. You were starting to lose feeling in one of your legs that was pressed awkwardly underneath you, and your shoulders becoming sore from the awkward angle of your arms. “I don’t know how you are here or why it was me you happened to run into, but you need help and are you really gonna try and explain this situation to someone else?”

“She’s right you know” Dabi said casually to Shigaraki who was obviously trying to come up with an excuse to hurt you.

“Fine. Go utie her”

With a heavy sigh Dabi slid off his stool dropping the toothpicks in his hand, the one still pursed between his lips moving idly as he chewed on it. He stalked over to you as Shigaraki sat on a stool at the bar from the growing pain in his leg. Dabi came up in front of you, and you couldn’t help but flush at how close he was. You thought back to the copious amounts of fanfic you’ve read as he reached around you to untie the rope. He was so close you could feel his breath on your neck and hear him chewing on the toothpick. He smelled of worn cologne with a musky yet slightly minty scent mixed with what you presume to be the scent of charred flesh. Once you were free and he was no longer in your personal space, you rubbed your wrists standing up trying to get blood flow back to your legs.

“Thanks” you say casually to Dabi as he walks back over resuming his seat at the bar next to Shigaraki. He doesn’t respond.

You start to walk towards the door at the side of the bar that leads to the boss’s office and the back room where you keep your stuff.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Shigaraki asks sliding off his stool threateningly, but he nearly stumbles when he lands on his ill leg.

“Don’t worry I am just going to grab my stuff”

“Dabi go with her”

“No. She’s not gonna go anywhere. Besides if this is anything like the bar then that room has no exit”

“Tch–” was Shigaraki’s only response. You take this as a concession and push open the door to the back room. When the door closes, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Dabi and Shigaraki from MHA were real and standing in the room next door. And you were going to help them?! Did that make you technically a villain? How were you supposed to figure out how to get them back? Did you want them to go back? After all you had dreamt of scenarios similar to this many times. Maybe if you figured it out could you go with them? That thought alone was enough to make your simp dreams explode. What weeb gods had blessed you?

Your brain was racing as you gathered your sweatshirt and bag. You popped quickly into the office attached to the back of the room to grab your paycheck. Like you suspected, he gave you a random bonus but you weren’t complaining. You stuffed it into your bag and walked back towards the bar. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door, half expecting to be met with an empty room, but there they were, talking in hushed tones. They immediately stopped when they heard you come back.

“Are you going somewhere?” Shigaraki asked, noticing your bag as you pulled on your sweatshirt.

“This place closed over 20 minutes ago and unless you want the other business owners around here to come poking around, since I always close on time, we should head out”

“And where exactly are WE going?” Dabi asked boredly, staring off at the ceiling.

“I live about six blocks from here. Think you can make it? I have first aid shit at my place” You directed the last part towards Shigaraki.

“Tch-”

“I will take that as a yes.” you said as you turned off the decorative lighting around the bar, and locked the register. You walked towards the front door and you heard the two men shuffle around to follow you. You open the door letting them walk out in front of you. Shutting off the main lights shrouding the bar into complete darkness cept the bright green exit sign above the door, you locked the bar door and turned to see Dabi and Shigaraki looking around at the buildings surrounding the bar. Shigaraki had stowed father into his pocket and Dabi popped up the collar of his jacket to try and obscure some of his scars. You also glanced around taking in the familiar scenery. You never really noticed how similar it was to the shots in MHA. Weird.

Anyways you can think about that later. You started the route back to your house the two men trailing closely behind you whether it was for their own comfort or to make sure you didn’t try to bolt, you didn’t know but you felt much safer with these two with you. Normally you would walk quickly, key in hand, always crossing the street to whichever side had the most light, but tonight you didn’t worry too much about the potential danger lurking on the streets. All of them seemed miniscule to the two men behind you.

You walked in complete silence for the majority of the time. You had so many questions but all of them could wait till you got home. I am sure they have just as many questions for you. You could hear Shigaraki grunt in pain every once in a while, walking becoming harder as time went on. You were about a block away coming up on the small 24 hour grocery/convenience store where you frequently bought snacks and food on your way home from work.

“Hey I need to quickly grab some stuff. I don’t have much food at home. Are you guys hungry?”

Neither responded.

“Okay then.” Neither one objected as you turned into the small parking lot walking up to the store. They both followed you inside like two overgrown shadows. You grabbed a basket and started making your way through the isles grabbing essentials like milk and cheese.

“Feel free to grab some stuff if it catches your eye. There’s Soba cups down that aisle and Shigaraki there’s chips and other snacks there too. I just need to grab something over here” you say pointing towards the other direction. Dabi and Shigaraki glance at each other and stalk off together.

“You know it's getting rather annoying how she knows all this stuff about us” You catch Shigaraki telling Dabi as you turn to go grab all the other items you need. When you return they’re both there, bags of chips and soba cups in hand. It was rather cute how they stood there waiting for you to return. You walked up to the counter to check out and once Dabi and Shigaraki dropped their haul for you to pay, they walked outside to wait for you.

“Good Morning Y/N”

“Oh. Hey Thomas” you say to the cashier you’ve come to know over the many late night trips. He always amused himself by saying good morning whenever you came in after midnight.

“Who were the two guys with you? They seem kinda rough. Is everything alright?” he finished scanning your items as you handed over your card.

“Oh haha. Don’t worry they’re some family friends. They came to visit me while they’re passing through”

“Oh alright then. Well I hope you have a good morning” He said with a cheery smile.

“Good morning” you returned, resistantly. You grabbed the bags of groceries and waved to Thomas, pushing the door open and stepping outside scanning for Dabi and Shigaraki.

You spot them leaning against the side of the store watching some teens try and pick a redbox movie.

“We only have a block to go,” you told them as they stood up straight to follow you.

“Woah!!! Jamie look that dude is dressed up as Dabi!”

We turned to see one of the teens staring at Dabi.

“Look at the guy next to him! That’s the best Shiggy I’ve seen”

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. The look on Shigaraki’s face at a random teen calling him Shiggy was priceless. If only these kids knew. Dabi continued walking down the parking lot and Shigaraki looked like he was about to murder someone.

“Hey do you think we could get a picture with you guys?” one of the teens asked walking towards Shigaraki.

Oh no bad idea.

“Hey guys. Not tonight. Sorry” You intervened quickly, shooting Shigaraki a look that said don’t do it. He seemed to understand because he started to walk towards where Dabi was waiting.

“Aww man. Shigaraki’s my favorite character. Tell them amazing costumes.”

“Will do” you said with a smile and turned to walk towards where the two men were waiting for you.

The rest of the walk had an air of impatience as you all wanted to just get to your destination. You had finally made it to your apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. It was a fairly new building so the apartment was rather nice however it was one of the smallest models. There was only one bed and bath but the open concept living room and kitchen made it feel rather spacious. You walked into the kitchen putting away all the groceries as Dabi and Shigaraki looked around surveying your apartment.

“Feel free to make yourselves at home. I’ll grab my first aid stuff. There’s food and drink in the kitchen”

You walked down the hall to your room kicking off your shoes and taking off your sweatshirt. You grabbed the rather large first aid kit from the bathroom and brought it back into the main room. Both Dabi and Shigaraki had shed their jackets and seemed to have found some left over beers in your fridge. Dabi was sitting on the kitchen counter and Shigaraki was sitting at the dining room table, prodding at the wound on his leg.

“Don’t touch it. That's only gonna make it worse” you told him.

“Oh shut up. Don’t tell me what to do” he hissed.

“Fine I guess I’ll fix Dabi up first”

Shigaraki shoots Dabi a look of incredulity and annoyance, to which Dabi only raises his eyebrows and shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer. You set down the first aid kit and grab the extra stuff you bought at the store.

“Do you even know how to do first aid?” Dabi asks, watching you rummage for supplies.

“Yes. I had to get certified in order to work at a summer camp, so don’t worry I know what I’m doing. Although I’m not much help if it’s anything more than stitches. Of course unless you’re drowning or need CPR”

“Okay I get it” he said, taking another sip.

“Can you roll up your sleeves so I can see the cuts?” You turned to dampen a towel in the sink, and when you turned back around you were not expecting to be faced with a shirtless Dabi. You paused for a second, staring, before you heard Shigaraki ‘tch’ snapping you out of simp shock. You shook your head and started to address the wounds to Dabi’s arm and shoulder.

“(another name that’s close to Y/N) it’s time you answered some of my questions” Shigaraki said while sipping on his beer and propping his leg up on another chair.

“ It’s Y/N. Also if your gonna put your feet up at least take off your shoes”

“Whatever Princess” he said snarkily, dramatically kicking off his shoes. It took you a second to register the pet name he had just called you. No get your mind out of the gutter this is the real them, not the fanon fanfiction them. You continued to wipe away the dirt and grime surrounding Dabi’s wounds.

“So... we were recognized earlier by those stupid kids. Just how popular is this show you say we’re from”

“Umm that’s kinda hard to say since it’s within a specific genre but within that genre I’d say very popular, maybe one of the most currently”

“How do we fit into this show?”

“Well you’re the main antagonist as the leader of the League of Villains. The show introduces you through the USJ attack in season 1”

“What about me?” Dabi asks.

“Oh.. well you don’t come in till season 3 I think. Wait actually I think it’s the end of season 2 after the Hosu incident”

A small chuff came from Shigaraki, no doubt in whatever pride there was in being a more prominent character.

“Do you guys have any idea how you got to this world?” You asked.

“Hey I’m asking the questions here, but no. We were on an important recruiting mission when it turned ugly. I called for Kurogiri and we ran through his portal and you know the rest”

“Did you know any of the quirks you were battling against?”

“One guy had a weak poison quirk but I took him out in the beginning.” Dabi stated flatly.

“The two guys in front both had strength related quirks I think,” Shigaraki continued.

“There was that one tall girl in the back behind the pillar. Could have been hers but who knows”

“Hmmm….maybe somehow a quirk mixed with Kurogiri’s. Sorry this next part might sting a little” You said this last part to Dabi dabbing some rubbing alcohol onto the cuts to which he made no verbal reaction but his muscles tensed at the cold stinging.

“So you said the main character was the green haired brat right? So what’s the plot as you say? Why is it all about him and the heroes?”

You pause for a moment thinking. Is it okay to tell him this? He is a villain. Are there consequences to other characters?

“Hello?”

“Sorry...um basically the show starts with All Might choosing him to be his successor as the number one hero. Then it follows him through his path from being weak and quirkless to his journey through UA. That’s when you guys come in as the villains with all your attacks on the school and students”

“What do you mean quirkless? Green top has an annoyingly powerful quirk.” Dabi questions.

“Yeah… he defeated Muscular and that Overhaul bastard” Shigaraki continues.

Screw it.

“Well All Might gave his quirk to Midoriya”

Shigaraki’s eyes widened in interest, but kept silent in his thought process.

A few minutes pass in silence and you finish patching up Dabi and handing him a mirror so he can fix his own staples. He claimed to be pretty good at it now. You move the first aid stuff over to the table where Shigaraki sat.

“Your turn” you say looking down at his leg. He looked up at you defiantly.

“What are you not wearing boxers? Or do you not want me to treat it?” You said pulling a chair to where his leg was resting. He rolled his eyes but stood up and undid his belt and pulled down his black jeans. He was wearing red boxers that looked a size too big as they hung loosely around his lean muscles. You made sure not to stare after being caught earlier. You started to repeat the same process you did on Dabi but Shigaraki was much more vocal about the discomfort you caused as you cleaned the wound.

“You’re cut is deeper. It’s gonna need stitches if you want it to heal properly”

“Whatever” he said in response.“I wanna know more about how people here see us. That kid back there said I was his favorite character. How do people see us in the show”

“Well it depends. Everyone has their favorite characters for different reasons”

“Yea...yea.. answer the question”

“Fine. Most people like you as a villain and as a character. However you’re seen as childish.” A chuckle from Dabi that earned him a death glare. “Dabi you’re more popular and your past is a rather hot topic for fans. However both of you are pretty popular in the fandom. Does that answer your question.”

“What do you mean popular in the fandom?”

“Well you know like fan theories, fanart, fanfiction, etc. A lot of people like you guys. However a lot of it is fan theories, guesses, and headcanons, but people don’t actually know” you said threading the needle for the stitches.

“What kind of theories?” Shigaraki asks hesitantly

“Well for example for a long time it wasn’t actually stated that Dabi was the missing Todoroki child but fans believed it so much that it was basically thought of as fact, and then it became truth. Other theories are less intense like Dabi again for example is presumed that his favorite food is hot soba and yours is junk food or hand food like chips and stuff.”

“How the fuck do you people figure these things out?” Shigaraki asked, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

“Well the food thing was because you have the thing with hands so hand food”

“That’s so stupid” He hissed.

“But is it wrong?” You asked, already knowing the answer based on the grocery trip.

“Tch––”

“Why hot soba for patchwork overthere?”

“Oh because it was revealed that Todoroki, I mean Shoto’s favorite food is cold soba and the whole brothers thing. People connected dots”

“That’s so stupid” Dabi was the one who spoke this time.

“And again were they wrong?” You looked up at him raising your eyebrows knowingly.

“Also those aren’t even the stupid ones. People make up the weirdest shit, some as jokes, others as forms of comfort or just for imagination’s sake. Okay you’re all done.” You say standing up and clearing away the dirty gauze and other first aid supplies. Shigaraki pulls his dirty and bloodstained pants back up over his neatly bandaged leg. You take all the first aid stuff back to the bathroom and return a little bit later to find Shigaraki and Dabi arguing over who knows what. You hear some words like ‘She’ and ‘think’, so you assume they’re talking about you but just as before they stop when you walk back into the room.

“So I set out some towels in the bathroom along with some old clothes my ex boyfriend and my brother left here. They may not be the best fit sorry but it’ll do. If you leave your clothes in the laundry basket I’ll throw them in the wash tomorrow”

“I call dibs on the shower first” Dabi said, hopping off the counter.

“Bastard” Shigaraki muttered.

#shigaraki #dabi x shigaraki #shigaraki x dabi #my hero academia #my hero #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x dabi x reader #anime #fanfiction #fandom

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p4nkow · 3 years

Text

After school tutoring

Hey-ho! I don't really know if I can say that I'm back with writing but yeah, I wrote something

I’ve watched OBX as soon as it came out but I’ve struggled with coming up with an innovative idea (so you can easily imagine how excited I was when this one surprisingly popped up in my mind)

Summary: JJ really needs a tutor not to fail his French class, but he doesn’t seem to excited about the idea. Especially when the Tutor he’s been assigned to is a Kook he grew up with, who seems to be friends with the Rafe and the rest of the Scooby Gang. Y’know, the usual with some good ol’ angst and fluff

So, of course, it’s a JJ x reader

Warnings: nothing much, really. Rafe’s a bit of a jerk, but not as much as in the show (I have a soft spot for him). Oh and also some violence (but blink and you’ll miss it, I swear)

hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think :)

gif not mine so credit to the owner

Your father always told you that you were one of the nicest and most patient little girls that he had ever known. Ever since you were a child, you’ve always been such a Florence Nightingale. You’d always help Mrs. Goode cross the street on her way back home — especially when Rafe and his bloody motorcycle where nearby — or you’d always take care of some abandoned kittens until you could find them a proper and loving home.

Yeah, you were that kind of nice. You were Jamie Sullivan kind-of-nice, straight out of A walk to remember but without your Landon Carter.

No matter how many times your own actions backfired at you, you never regretted them. Not even when Kielce tried to embarrass you in front of everyone at Midsummers, after you trying to hide the fact that he was stoned from his parents. Or when the Pogues kept throwing daggers at you for just being a Kook. Well, half Kook. You were as Kook as Kiara.

Nevertheless, you never regretted anything— until now.

What the hell were you thinking when you volunteered for the after-school program? No, after-school was not the real problem. The real matter was who had been assigned to you.

JJ Maybank.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t stand his sight or anything. No, nothing like that. He just didn’t seem to know you existed. Which was odd, considered that he did nothing but pick up a fight with your best friend every three or four minutes.

Maybe he simply ignored you because you were a Kook. Well, half Kook.

And as he waited for his tutor – for you. As he waited for you, sitting on one of the farthest desks in the classroom, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Both his elbows were on the desk, a grin lit up his face as he texted someone.

Man, this was going to be fun.

A few steps and you were right next to him. The grip on the books you were holding against your chest was so tight that you couldn’t even feel your fingers anymore. There was no reason for you to be that nervous, yet you had to take a deep breath before speaking to him.

“Hey.” As simple as that. It came out more as a squeak than as a word, but whatever.

His blue eyes moved from the screen to you. He held your gaze for a few moments, before letting his eyes slide all over your body.

“Hey”, he replied. His tone was amused as his grin grew wider. His phone was now locked but he didn’t put it away.

His curious gaze followed your movements as you took a seat in front of him, placing your books on the empty space between the two of you. “Looks like I’m stuck with you.”

“Is that a problem?” The smile on his face told you that he wasn’t taking it seriously. He leaned back, bringing both his hands behind his neck as he gave you a careless look.

All you could do was shrug. “I hope not.”

A loud ding interrupted him from whatever he was about to say, as the screen of his phone lit up. His blue eyes, which seemed so amused and interested in you, quickly moved to it. JJ remained silent for a few seconds, his attention now elsewhere.

Trying to camouflage your annoyance caused by his behavior, you said “I spoke to Mrs. Roux. She told me to focus on the basics first, then we can move to the more advanced notions.”

JJ cleared his voice, leaning again towards you. His face was just a few inches away from yours and you took the chance to give a better look at his eyes – even though they seemed carefree and young, deep down you knew they were troubled. Rumors traveled faster than the wind there at the island.

“Look”, he started. “As much as I appreciate your good will, I have no intention of following a single thing you say. I’m only here to score some points with Mrs. Roux so that I don’t fail French.”

His honesty was appreciated. You couldn’t say you were surprised, though. Everybody knew that JJ cared so little of his grades. Not because he couldn’t do better, but because for whatever reason he didn’t want to.

“Then you’ll have to change your tutor”, you replied with a shrug.

After all, you had volunteered to after-school for a reason.

Your words must’ve caught him off guard. His brows narrowed and he slightly tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m here to help. And obviously you don’t want to be helped.”

The rays coming through the window at your left made his blonde eyes look even lighter, giving him an angelic look. If it wasn’t for the devilish grin printed on his face.

“You could score some points, too. And without any effort”, he proposed, a corner of his lips raised in an amused smile.

His words made you giggle, so you slightly shook your head. “That’s not how it works, JJ.”

“Do you know me?” Why did he seem so surprised by that? First, even though you were now in the mainland, you both lived in the island. Back there, everyone knew everyone. So of course you knew who JJ Maybank was.

The real question was, “Do you know me?”

“I know you hang out with the Scooby Gang. That’s enough for me.” He clenched his jaw and for the first time since you had taken your seat in front of him, he looked away from you.

You narrowed your brows, throwing him a confused look. “With who?”

JJ gave you a look that said ‘You already know who I’m talking about’. But to make it sure you’d understood, he said “Y’know, Rafe and the rest of the gang.

“They’re my friends.” Of course you knew that there was some bad blood between JJ’s friends and the now so-called Scooby Gang. Since the very first moment, though, you dissociated yourself from that situation. Mainly because you were friends with both Sarah – who was now hanging with the Pogues – and Rafe.

JJ pressed his lips together in a thin line. “You’ve found yourself some terrible friends, I’m afraid.”

His words hurt you. How dared he?

“You don’t really know them. Neither of you have really tried to know each other, so what do you know? I’m more than capable to pick my own friends, thank you.”

And his words made him smile. Was he making fun of you? His smile grew wider as he stared at you. “I knew you had claws hidden somewhere, kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“You’re bringing out the claws like a kitty.”

“Oh please”, you scoffed, looking away from his intense stare. “Don’t try to buy me by using your pickup lines.”

JJ laughed. It was probably the first time you ever heard him laugh — like, a real laugh — and the reactions it aroused in your stomach caught you off guard.

“I’m not trying to hit on you, Kitten. Trust me. At least not for now.” He winked at you and you could do nothing but give him an eye roll.

“Shut up.”

JJ remained silent for a while, the ghost of a smile still on his face. His gaze fell to his hands, now joined on the desk. Before speaking again, he gave you a mischievous look from under his lashes. “So you really wanna help me, huh?”

“You just said you don’t want my help.”

“That was before knowing the Kitten in you. It might actually be fun.”

You sighed deeply and shook your head. “JJ, you’re gonna fail French. You need me.”

“I don’t really care about failing French, but I’ll think about it.” His phone rang again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eye-rolling. He gave you a quick look before lowering his gaze to the screen, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

The atmosphere had just changed, and you could feel it. The tension was tangible.

JJ swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. Then he loudly pulled away his chair, meeting your gaze again only once having stood up in front of you. “Gotta go now. Don’t bail on me, Kitten.”

He had to go. He had been there for fifteen minutes only!

While throwing him a confused glance, you replied “You don’t bail on me. You’re the one who needs help.”

His lips curved again as a reaction to your words and he held your gaze for a couple of more seconds before starting to walk away.

“JJ?” You hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, but when he turned towards you there was no going back. “We grew up together. You just never noticed I existed.”

And with his brows narrowed in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, JJ walked away.

—

It was a Saturday just like any other, before Rafe started to persuade you to go with him at a kegger some guy was having down at the Boneyard.

“We won’t be long, right?” Yes, he got the best of you. As you sighed, you turned your head towards the window. From where his Jeep was parked, you could see the crowd already gathered around an improvised bonfire.

“Promise.” Rafe nodded as to confirm his words. “As soon as you wanna get out of here, you come tell me.”

The light of the streetlamps gave you the chance to give him a better look – the white shirt he was wearing highlighted his blue eyes, which were now giving you a hopeful look. “Fine”, you gave up. “Please behave.”

The innocent look he gave you made you giggle, so you threw him a condescending look before stepping out of the car.

You landed on the sand with a little jump, and the night breeze immediately caressed your bare legs. The choice of wearing a skirt was turning out to be a terrible decision.

Rafe made sure you were following him as he started to walk towards the heart of the party. “Are the guys already here?”

“They should be”, he murmured while giving a look around him. Kelce and Topper were nowhere to be found yet. “Let me call them.”

He lowered his gaze as he dialed Topper’s number and you took the chance to give a proper look at the situation around you. Many of your classmates were there, half of them already with a drink in their hands. There were many groups scattered around the beach and the air was filled with laughter – apparently everyone was in a good mood.

One of the first thing you noticed, though, was the equal presence of both Kooks and Pogues. Both factions were there, and for the first-time things seemed to be quiet. No daggers being throwed, no threats murmured. The atmosphere seemed to be peaceful, and you found yourself praying that it’d continue that way.

With the phone still pressed against his ear and his bottom lip between his teeth, Rafe met your gaze for a few instants before trying again to spot his friends. He nodded at someone every now and then because, after all, everyone knew Rafe. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

Everyone but the Pogues.

That’s when you noticed him.

Near one of the bungalows that was now being used as a drinks-refill, there was JJ. One of his hands was raised to hold a cup against his lips, while the other was hidden in the pocket of his short cargo pants.

Despite the darkness of the night, you could see the intensity of his blue eyes from where you were standing. His blonde locks were hidden under a red hat that he was wearing backwards.

Sarah was there with him, alongside with the rest of his friends and a couple of strangers. Female strangers. Some Tourons that he’d hit on, probably. The thought made your stomach twirl for various reasons that you weren’t ready to explore yet, so you looked away before he could notice your staring.

“There you are!” Topper’s arm surrounded your shoulders, bringing back to reality. The smile you gave him was spontaneous and warm.

Rafe sighed as he put away his phone. “You could answer my calls sometimes, asshole.”

“Actually”, Topper said, pointing his finger at Rafe’s chest “I’m pretty sure I lost my phone.”

The way he started to stagger next to you made you ask in an amused but worried tone “Are you drunk?”

Kelce giggled and nodded after meeting Topper’s eyes. “No, we aren’t. Do you want something to drink, Y/N?”

Before you could even give him an answer, you were interrupted by a new voice. “Hey Rafe.” A petite blonde was now standing in front of Rafe. His smile grew wider as he looked down at her and you knew that you’d lost his company even before he could reply.

She handed him a drink and Rafe gave you a quick look with the corner of his eyes. A smirk was all you gave him, and he took it as a good sign. “Hey, doll.”

Lame.

The two of them started to chat and Topper and Kelce were caught in the most intense, drunken conversation, so when you said “I’m gonna grab a drink”, you weren’t even sure who you were talking to.

On your way to the bungalow, you made sure to take the long way, trying to avoid JJ’s group. There wasn’t a particular reason for you not wanting to see him – or was there? All you knew was that he made you incredibly nervous, and you didn’t like that feeling. And sure as hell you didn’t like the way you felt when you saw him with those Tourons.

Stop it, Y/N.

Inside the bungalow there were a few people refilling their cups. After a few “Hey” and “How’s it going?” you finally made your way to the counter. It was hard to tell what those drinks were made of, so you opted for a simple beer.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You were so lost in your thoughts that the cup almost slid off your fingers as JJ’s voice made you jump.

“Jesus!”

JJ laughed. “I know I’m awesome, but it’s just me.” He leaned on the counter next to you, crossing his arms on his chest as he gave you a mischievous smile.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

His blue eyes slowly slid all over your body, down to your bare legs. He clenched his jaw and you found yourself thinking that maybe, after all, wearing a skirt hadn’t been that terrible. The intensity of his stare pushed you to look away from him, so you took a sip of your drink while trying to slow down your heart rate.

“Are you having fun?” His voice was low and deep, almost as deep as the stare he was giving you.

“I just got here”, you shrugged.

He slowly nodded, looking away for a couple of seconds before turning again towards you. “You were with Rafe.”

He noticed? If it wasn’t for his tone — which made you groan — you’d have felt flattered by the fact that he had noticed. “Let’s not go there again, JJ. He’s my friend.”

“Your friend”, he repeated.

What was his problem?

“Yes”, you articulated.

You exhaled sharply and looked away. You were trying so hard not to get mad at him because of his attitude that you didn’t even notice he’d moved.

JJ was now standing right in front of you. His body was just a few inches away from yours and you fought against your first instinct to back up.

His blue eyes scanned your face, but not in a judgmental way. Maybe it was the first time that JJ really saw you. “You look good tonight, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that”, you said instead of thanking him. His compliment made you blush.

His lips curved into a grin — it was so typical of him that you were starting to hate it. “You see”, he started. “You said something a few days ago.”

“Hm?” Your brows were raised in a confused look.

“I remember your orange beanie.”

Wait, what?

“What?”

His grin grew even wider at your confusion. “You loved it so much that the teacher had to tell your mother. You just wouldn't take it off. You’ve always been headstrong.”

It was true. When you were eight-ish, you owned an orange beanie. It was a gift from your aunt, and you grew so fond of it that you wouldn’t take it off. Not even in class. The teacher scolded you so many times — which, for an eight-year-old like you was the end of the world — that she even had to bring in your parents.

JJ remembered.

The last time you saw him you told him that he never noticed you existed, but he did.

He took another step towards you. “And when you were twelve, you fell off a tree. You told your mom that you were trying to grab a balloon or something, but I saw you. I was working in a house nearby and I know you were trying to save a kitten.”

You remained silent because you were literally speechless.

He took another step forward. You were so close to him that you could feel the warmth of his body. That’s when the people surrounding you started to blur, becoming meaningless to you. There was just him.

The intensity of his blue eyes stopped you from moving. You froze still as he gently cupped your cheek, sending chills down your spine. What the hell was going on?

“And I sure remember the look in your eyes at homecoming. I stayed late that night to give a hand cleaning up and make some money. You came with Topper, but you left alone. At some point he stood you up for Sarah. Even though he'd just he'd just bailed on you, when you asked Kelce a ride home you made up some lame excuse to cover him. And I kept asking myself why the hell you were always so nice to everyone.” His voice was nothing but a whisper. Both his hands were now placed on the counter, trapping you between his arms.

“JJ—”, you started but you weren't even sure what to say.

He'd noticed everything. He'd noticed you.

Instead of replying with words, you leaned towards him. You were now so close that your lips brushed his. It was a gentle touch, almost shy. Closing your eyes, you stood on your tips while placing your hands on his chest. You could feel his muscles from under the grey shirt he was wearing, and your skin burned where his hand was placed, right on your hip.

Just when your mind was starting to go wild and JJ was starting to deepen the kiss — after being taken aback by your initiative —, you were interrupted by a voice calling his name.

Really? Oh c’mon. JJ groaned and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning towards the door.

“JJ?” Kie was standing right out of the bungalow, her brows narrowed in a worried look.

He took a step back from you and turned towards her, slowly letting you go. You already missed the warmth of his hand against your skin. But Kie being there, interrupting like that, could only mean one thing.

Her gaze fell on you for a couple of seconds, looking at you with nothing but disdain, before looking back at the blonde in front of you. “It’s John B. John B and Rafe.”

That's all she said, but you knew that it meant trouble.

The two of you started to move at the same moment, both drawn to where Kie was heading to. Rafe was in trouble and you knew JJ was as worried as you for his friend.

Why things had to be so difficult between them?

“What’s going on?”, you asked loud enough for Sarah to hear.

The worry in her face made you nervous, but your attention quickly shifted to where Rafe and John B were having a row. Topper was now pulling Rafe back, trying to get him off John B.

You shouted his name, but you knew he wouldn't hear you. The atmosphere was becoming loud and messy, and you were worried sick about your friend.

“Rafe, stop!”

As soon as Topper managed to pull him away, you placed yourself between the two of them. “C’mon man”, Topper kept murmuring as he pushed him away from the Pogues.

But Rafe was fuming. He had a split lip, and he was short of breath. A small crowd had gathered around the fight. People were moving around you, but all you could think of was trying to calm Rafe down. Hoping it'd help somehow, you placed a hand on his chest and murmured his name.

"You stay the hell away!”, he shouted at John B, who was now trying to stand up. Held by JJ on one side and Pope on the other, he did nothing but throw daggers at Rafe. He didn’t even reply. His bruises didn’t seem serious though, which was relief.

Your eyes fell to JJ for a couple of seconds, following his movements as he murmured something to John B, but you quickly looked away.

“Rafe, please.” Maybe because of your quiet tone, maybe because of the worry in it, he finally looked down at you. “That’s enough.”

And those words meant more than it looked like. No matter how hard you tried not to mind the distinction between the two factions in the island – the idea wouldn’t leave Rafe’s mind. The same Rafe that was now looking at you with nothing but anger, disappointment and regret in his blue eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Topper interrupted your staring contest. He patted on his shoulder and nodded towards the parking lots.

As the two of them started to make their way through the crowd, you turned towards JJ.

He was standing right in front of John B, murmuring something while looking at him straight in the eye. The hat he was wearing was long forgotten in the sand and the sea breeze pushed his blonde locks on his face. He didn’t seem to care, though.

Pope noticed you first. A nod was all he gave you before elbowing JJ. When he turned towards you, the look on his face was a lot different than the one you were getting used to. He was angry – jaw clenched, lips pressed and all. He had every right to be.

“What?” The sharpness of his tone almost made you step back.

You cleared your voice before asking, alluding to John B “Is he okay?”

He didn’t even look at him. Hell, he wasn’t even looking at you. The JJ standing right in front of you wasn’t the one you knew. And you didn’t like this new version of him.

“He’s fine.” That’s all he said.

His gaze was now fixed in the sea – he was looking at the waves violently hitting the bank without really seeing them.

You felt Kie’s eyes on you, as well as Pope’s. They were following your conversation with curiosity, trying to understand what the hell was going on between the two of you. After all they weren’t used to see JJ having a full conversation with a Kook. You kinda felt in the spotlight and you hated it.

“Is there something I can do?”, you asked as you tried to keep your voice down. Your words were meant to him and him only.

That’s when JJ finally looked at you, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He clenched his jaw once again and then said “Leave.”

The reaction to those words was immediate – you took a step back, almost as if he’d hurt you physically. And you hated the way your voice sounded squeaky when you asked “What?”

There were lots of emotions going through his eyes, but for the first time ever since you’d known him, you had no idea what the hell was JJ thinking.

“Just leave, Y/N.” He sighed and swore under his breath, lowering his gaze. Why was he acting like that?

As he started to turn his back to you, leaving you there on the spot, you asked “But I’ll see you on Monday, right?”

He shook his head even before turning again towards you. “This was a mistake.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” At this point you didn’t even care about the people surrounding you. Most of them had returned to mind their own business, but not the Pogues.

“If you really wanna do something about it, keep your fuckin’ pet away from me – away from us.” Even though he had every right to be pissed at Rafe, you didn’t like his tone nor the way he was referring to him. “He’s nothing but trouble and so are you. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you’re so naïve that you don’t even notice it!”

“What the hell are you –”, you tried to intervene, but he immediately cut you off.

“I don’t need your help. No, I don’t want your help. You’re a Kook, Y/N – God, I’m not that desperate.”

You didn’t even try to reply to that. He didn’t deserve another minute of your attention, nor the things that you were starting to feel for him. So you took another step back, physically unable to look away from him eyes. How could he be so mean?

JJ knew he had fuck up. He regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Damn, he regretted hurting you. The look on your face said it all, and he hated himself for it. After all, you had nothing to do with Rafe’s behavior. He was an asshole – a real asshole – and you were too good for him.

And JJ knew sure as hell that you were too good for him, too.

You almost sighed in relief when you heard Kelce’s voice asking you “Y/N, you coming?” He was waiting just a few feet away from you.

JJ tried to take a step towards you, but his legs wouldn’t move. He had screwed it up and he knew it.

When you felt tears watering your eyes, you bit your lower lip till you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You had no intention of crying in front of him – or his friends, for what matters.

The last look you gave him was full of hurt, regret and disappointment and you found yourself hoping that JJ would remember that look for the rest of his life.

You finally turned your back to him, approaching Kelce with a terrible burden on your heart. There had been moments when you really thought that the stupid distinction between the two factions wouldn’t matter to him. That the distinction between the Cut and Figure Eight wouldn’t influence your friendships.

But you were terribly wrong.

—

The first thing you did on Monday, was changing your schedule for the afterschool program. In that way, not only you weren’t assigned to JJ, but you wouldn’t even see him around during the afternoon. The plan was of avoiding him as much as you could. Well, that wasn’t much of a problem, considered that he despised you and everything.

The week went by kinda smoothly – no JJ in sight, no troubles, no Rafe. You were trying to blow off some stream, and that plan included avoiding both. Even when Sarah called you or stopped by, she cautiously avoided those subjects.

JJ had tried to reach you once. He’d stopped by your house and found your sister, instead. He never showed up again.

Rafe was a whole another story. He hadn’t stopped calling you or texting you since that night at the kegger. Even though you were still pissed at him, you couldn’t help but forgive him. Kinda. As you already said, you were a Florence Nightingale. That huge part of you just couldn’t let go the idea of talking some sense to him.

—

The next Friday Sarah had a terrible, terrible idea.

The Pogues were planning to spend the whole day in the HMS Pogue – a hurricane was expected the following week and they wanted to enjoy those last quiet days. So of course, when Sarah asked you to come along, your answer had been a firm no.

The reason was obvious. JJ would’ve been there, and you were more than determined to avoid him all costs.

“It could be fun! Y’know, you could even try to swim this time.”

“I definitely won’t”, you articulated, not being able to repress a chuckle at her hopeful expression.

When she joined her hands in front of her face and leaned towards you, looking at you with her giant dark brown eyes, you slightly shook your head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Please?”, she whispered.

You gave her a quick look from under your lashes, bringing a scoop of ice cream to your lips. Trying to stall, you made sure to finish the entire spoon before shrugging. “Will you keep him away from me?

“Of course!” Her excitement was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Not gonna happen’, huh?

Later that day, when you were waiting for the rest of the group to come, you were already starting to regret to regret your decision.

“Stop being so nervous”, Sarah murmured, giving you a look with the corner of her eyes.

You narrowed your brows. “I’m not.”

“Your leg is bouncing”, she pointed out and you eye rolled.

Before you could think of a comeback, Kie’s voice was barely audible above the boat noise. “Well, if you hadn’t stopped to buy all those snacks, we wouldn’t have been late!”

“Technically, we’re not late. You’re only used to be early”, Pope then her an amused look, throwing a Cheeto to his mouth.

They were both standing at the front of her boat, the girl’s hand raised to cover her eyes from the sun.

Behind them, maneuvering the boat, there were both JJ and John B. The latter quickly started to disappear to you as you focused on the blonde — he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was nothing new to you, and his blonde locks were pulled back by a blue bandana. You were mesmerized by that sight — so much that you were almost drooling.

Sarah elbowed you and you cleared your voice, strengthening the grip on your bag as you looked away from him. After all, you still hadn’t forgiven and forgotten all the mean things that he had told you.

JJ saw you even before you could notice him standing next to John B. No one had told him that you’d have come along, but he now wished someone had. He was totally taken aback, mesmerized by your sight. The way the sun was making your hair shine or the way you’d wiggle your nose when talking to Sarah — that shit was driving him crazy.

“You okay?”, Sarah asked to make sure. Carefully avoiding looking at him, you nodded and gave her a fake smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

When the boat was close enough for you to hop in, John B didn’t waste any time and quickly approached Sarah. He was firmly holding her hand and said “Come on up.” You felt the urge to look away, almost as if you were witnessing something of extremely private.

When it was your turn to get on the boat, you handed your bag to Pope, who’d kindly offered to help you. Right before you could place your foot on the top of the boat, JJ hurried to get next to you. He offered you a hand and you looked at it, dumbfounded, for a couple of seconds.

Then you pushed it away and murmured “I can make it.”

And you did — even at the cost of breaking your own neck. You got on the boat with a little jump, and you gave Pope a little smile of victory, completely ignoring the blonde standing behind you.

You didn’t even had the courage to look at him in the eyes.

Just when you were about to get away from him and approach Sarah, JJ said “Y/N.”

Your body tensed up and you froze still.

“Y/N, please”. Your eyes shut once again at the sound of his pleading voice.

“Leave me alone, JJ.” And, surprisingly, for the next hour he did.

Contrary to what you thought at first, you were having a good time. Despite the fact that Kie was still throwing daggers at you, trying to read and understand you, the rest of the group was being extremely friendly and funny.

JJ had even stopped trying to talk to you, which was a relief. What he hadn’t stop doing, however, was throwing you looks with the corner of his eyes. He was always looking at you, especially when he thought you weren’t looking.

That until Pope proposed “You guys in for a swim?”

“Hell yeah”, Kie immediately stood up. “This sun is literally killing me.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to join them and, after some chats and laughter here and there, everyone jumped in the water. Everyone except JJ.

Before joining them John B turned to you and asked, “You coming?”

“Nah, I think I’ll pass”, you replied, giving him a smile. And with that he disappeared, joining his friends in the water.

JJ was sitting not far away from you, his legs dangling out of the boat. There was a weird silence between the two of you, and the tension was almost touchable. You hated that situation.

“Why didn’t you go swimming?”, he suddenly asked you, turning his head towards you.

There was no way you could get out of this, so you’d better have it done with it. When you slowly turned towards him, facing him, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were a lot different than the last time you saw him and the hurt in them almost made you break.

“Why didn’t you?”, you retorted and he ironically snorted. Then you closed your eyes, trying to calm your nerves. You turned completely towards him, crossing your legs while doing so. “I don’t know how to swim”, you explained in a low voice.

Why the hell were you justifying yourself with him?

He seemed genuinely surprised. His brows narrowed and he placed the beer he was drinking right next to him. “What? You never tried or—”

“No, I’m — I have thalassophobia.”

His brows narrowed even further. “Not following you.”

“It means that I’m scared of open water” you patiently explained, and he remained quiet.

Until he got up and walked towards you, sitting right in front of you.

“What— what are you doing?” You weren’t sure you were able to control your emotions around him. After all, being around him was enough, considered what he’d told you.

“Y/N”, he started, taking a deep breath and lowering his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking back at you. “I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that night and I regret every word I said.”

JJ was apologizing, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still hurt by the way he treated you.

He frowned when he noticed that you had no intention to reply. “You heard me?”

The guys were shouting and laughing while splashing each other, so you quickly looked away from them and met JJ’s eyes.

“I did”, you immediately said, quickly nodding at his question. “I also heard you when you said you weren’t that desperate to accept a Kook’s help. My help.”

He sighed deeply and shook his head, lot of emotions going through his eyes “A lot of things happened that night. And Rafe’s always in my way, always trying to mess with me, and that night was just the tip of the iceberg.”

The sea breeze pushed some locks of your hair right in front of your face, so when JJ raised a hand to pull them behind your ear, you didn’t move a muscle to stop him.

“This isn’t even about Rafe anymore, JJ. This is about you not accepting the fact that I’m a Kook!” Once again, as it usually happened in his presence, you temper was showing up.

“It isn’t about Rafe, huh?”, he snapped back. “So how come he’s always in the way when it comes to you?”

“Because he’s my friend! I know it’s hard to understand, I know it’s not easy for you, but I care about him. I know he can be mean; I know he’s an asshole most of the times, but I know him better, JJ.”

He scoffed, as if you were saying something that it was unthinkable for him. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it.”

“And if you can’t get over the fact that I’m his friend, that I’m a Kook, then we really shouldn’t see each other anymore. You were right.” You let out a defeated sight and you stood up, trying to walk away and ditch him there, when he immediately stood too. He gently grabbed your arm, meeting your eyes.

“Wait, Y/N. Listen, I don’t care, okay?” When did he get so close to you? You were so involved in your conversation that you hadn’t noticed how close his body was. “I said some mean shit that night, but I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t care if you’re from the Cut or from Figure Eight, Y/N. You could be from Narnia, for what matters, and I’d still like you.”

Wait what?

“You what?” The shock in your voice was evident.

It looked like JJ wanted to say something, so he parted his lips, but he immediately closed them back. Then he took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Yes, I like you, Y/N. I like how you’re not afraid to step up and speak your mind. I like how kind you are, to everyone – no matter what. And sure as hell I like the way you make me want to be a better person.”

The burden you felt in your heart was slowly dissolving at his words — did he feel that way all this time?

He cupped your cheeks with his warm hands, and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. To be completely honest, it scared you like hell the way you felt safe in his arms. When you leaned towards his hand, you reopened your eyes only to see him slightly smile.

“Good thing is, I don’t dislike you, either”, you teased him. He chuckled, slightly shaking his head, and once again you leaned towards him and placed your lips on his.

JJ didn’t waste any time. He placed one hand in the back of your neck in the attempt of pulling you closer to him, as he kissed you back. He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you as if he was afraid of losing you.

Both your hands slid between his blonde locks, and at that gentle touch a deep groan came up from his throat.

Just when you were starting to be short of breath, you heard a loud voice saying “It’s about fuckin’ time!”

When you — reluctantly — pulled away from him and looked towards your friends, John B had a huge smile on his face as he looked at the two of you. Sarah cupped her hand around her mouth and let out a little “Woo-hoo”, and even Kie seemed sort of relieved that you two finally sorted your problems out.

JJ didn’t let go of you, his arm was still surrounding your waist as he kept you close to him. He paid little attention to his friends, moving his lips to your cheek up till the spot under your ear. You closed your eyes, smiling at the sweetness of his kisses, as he murmured in your ear “I was really hoping to make you mine, Kitten.”

—

“Je.”

JJ raised his brows. “Je.”

“M’appelle”, you articulated.

The blonde sitting in front of you looked down at the book. “M’appelle”, he repeated.

“JJ.”

He looked up to meet your eyes. “That’s easy. JJ.”

“Now repeat it.” You bit your lip as you tried to repress a little laugh.

JJ leaned towards you, placing both his elbows on the desk as he brought his face closer to yours. “You’re kinda hot when you’re bossy.”

“JJ”, you said in a warning tone.

“Y’know”, he started, and the grin on his face didn’t promise nothing good. “It could be useful. You could talk dirty to me in French.”

You kicked him from under the table, giving a quick look in the room around you to make sure that no one heard. “Stop it”, you hissed, making him chuckle.

“You’re blushing.”

“I should never have accepted tutoring you.” Of course you were lying.

And JJ knew it. “Liar.”

“J, will you focus? Please?”

“Can I have a kiss every time I get it right?”

“Shut up and pay attention to me.” Tutoring JJ turned out to be harder than expected. Especially when he took every chance he had to make you blush or tease you.

JJ cleared his voice and faked a salute “Yes ma’am.”

Oh man, this was gonna be a long, long semester.

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj obx #rudy outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy x reader #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #obx #obx jj #obx jj x reader #obx jj maybank

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Note

Chance/Faith - ‘ what did you dream of? ’

Hello there once again! I do hope that you enjoy this short piece!

tw for drug use and mention. also for my dumb tongue in cheek jokes.

just under 2k

There’s something to be said about the peace that comes with sitting on the roof of some building. Hell just being up high always had its appeal to Chance, it was the coming down that left him sick. Maybe not the act of falling itself, that also provided some peace, but finding yourself back on the ground. The reality of being present, alive, stopped being fun the moment he had nothing but coming to his knees at the mere thought of them….of all that he had lost. Being grounded was overrated. Being grounded was pain. Being grounded was accepting the truth….something Chance had never been very good at.

To be high, in the sky, drunk enough to no longer keep steady on the ground….that was freedom….happiness. Even if it was set to kill him sooner than people wanted.

Catching the black smoke rising in the distance he smirks, giving a shake of his head, it’s the fourth one he can spot looking over the border of the Valley and Hebane. The gunfire Chance can just barely make out in the distance has him leaning back letting the sun warm the skin he’s sure is starting to look red rather than sunkissed. He probably should have stuck to the drinking after being arrested, he probably would have gotten another year of life. He definitely wouldn’t be in the middle of some war he never wanted to start or even end if he was being honest.

He takes a deep breath catching the hints of memories from when he was a teenager dying in the tight black clothing on this same roof in the height of summer. Back then Chance was just starting to experiment with drinking more and smoking weed while he dated some daughter of a successful real estate agent from New York, her hair the same color as Rachel’s. The eyes were a straight blue and her voice was a bit too gruff, she blamed it on always yelling for a taxi in the big city, and she was too self centered. It was only her hair that he liked.

Chance huffs, sitting up as he pulls out the stolen joint letting it find a place between his lips, testing the lighter once before he settles himself more. According to Hurk the joint was filled with some of the best weed in the world and how he saved it before some guy named Jason burned the whole farm down. Of course Jason was someone that Hurk met while out in Malaysia and really Chance should have been there to take down some guy that could almost rival Joesph in the crazy department. The exaggeration of the story Hurk had weaved for Chance still makes him chuckle, even now as he takes a drag letting the smoke sit in his lungs and envelop his tongue for a minute.

He let’s the smoke circle around him, closing his eyes, the high kicking in almost as fast as the Bliss does. “At least you’re right about it being some of the best,” Chance mumbles, bringing a knee up to rest his arm on while he watches over the activity he can’t really see. He’s about halfway through the joint when he feels someone watching him from below. Chance leans over catching the glimmer of her light brown hair, golden in the afternoon sun, before her blue-green eyes smile at him. “You’re pretty far out for just some casual stroll, don’t you think?”

He smirks as Faith rolls her eyes playfully, “Could say the same about you, Chance,” she tilts her head, looking to the stairs of crates leading to the roof, “Mind if I join you?”

Chance shrugs, letting out the latest drag, “Long as you can promise Jarhead or Gaston Wannabe aren’t waiting in the treeline to take me in.”

Faith begins the climb up the crates shaking her head, “Now why would I do that?” She smoothes out the skirt of the white lace of her dress, sitting next to him, taking the joint from his fingertips, “I don’t really like sharing you as it is.”

He watches her for a moment, taking in the way her hair shifts from brown to blonde at the whims of the breeze blowing, how her lips curve in a small smile as she inhales the smoke, and her eyes closing for a moment before handing the joint back to him. His heart tugs towards her, the suspicions he’s been having coming to the forefront of his mind. She can’t really be the same girl, there was no way. Tracey didn’t know Rachel like he does….did. Like he did. Seeing Faith like this though….Chance can’t help but see an older version of Rachel from that high school photo when she was a freshman, the last picture anyone had of her. He shakes the thoughts from his head, it was all probably a lingering hallucination from Bliss. Why wouldn’t it be possible for it to show you someone that you really wanted?

“What are you thinking about,” her voice pulls him back to the roof, the smile she wears before laughing, “Anyone home up there?”

He laughs in return, “This stuff really does live up to the hype it was given.”

Faith hums, leaning back on her hands, “So what did it make you think about?”

“The past,” Chance mutters, flicking the ash off, “This place brings back too many memories.”

“What kind of memories?” She asks sweetly.

“Summers up here, people I’ll probably never see again,” he says, balancing the joint between his lips as he searches for his phone, “Nothing special really.”

He lets out an a-ha finding it in his pocket, “Those people you think you’ll never see again,” Faith starts, Chance giving a nod for her to continue as he searches through the playlists, “Can I ask who they are?”

Chance settles on a song by Ghost, letting the music fill the silence while he takes what will be one of the last drags of this joint. He mulls over the answer as the smoke fills his lungs once more, passing the rest of it to Faith. “A girl.” Faith slides her gaze towards him slowly, “One of the few reasons I would have the possibility of being more comfortable with this place.”

“She an old girlfriend?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Just an old pipe dream.”

The silence falls quickly, Chance letting it stay for the length of a song, gripping for something lighter to talk about with her. She lets her head rest on his shoulder, fingers becoming entwined with his, “We’ve heard rumors about you, Chance.”

His heart rate slows after the initial surprise of her touch, his free hand closing over her chilled fingers, “If they’re from Gossip Girl, take it with a grain of salt.”

She laughs, giving a light slap on his chest, “Be nice. John’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind next time he’s got me strapped down and a knife to my throat.”

“But seriously though, many of the locals say that this wasn’t your first choice of a career.”

“I don’t think being the pawn in some supposed prophecy is anyone’s first choice in a career.”

“You’d be surprised actually,” Chance arches a brow at her response, “Again though can you let me finish?”

“Don’t I always?” He smirks, ”Thought you said that was my best quality.”

Faith groans, “Chance! Focus,” she takes a deep breath shifting to better lay against him, “What did you dream of being when you were younger?”

“Pfft, you seriously want to know that?” She nods, “Why?”

“Curiosity,” she states.

“Will you tell me yours?”

Faith thinks for a moment, tracing the tattoos on his hands, “Only if you tell me the truth.”

Chance lets out a sigh, keeping his eyes focused on the open space before him, “I wanted to be like Dad,” Rachel would have known that. “Your turn.”

“We didn’t have any dreams,” she giggles, the tone contrasting with the weight of what she’s just said, “What was the point when there wasn’t a chance we’d get anywhere close to them.”

“Something to aspire to,” he offers, “Keep you going. Keep you living.”

“Do you still have that dream? Wanting to be like your father?” Her voice flows almost like a song, drawing him in each time. There’s some resistance from him today as it feels almost inappropriate with their conversation.

“Sure. I was on my way once before,” he shrugs, “Why couldn’t that happen again?”

Her eyes are big, taking in every movement in his face and eyes, there’s a tingle along his skin the longer she stays looking at him like that. It doesn’t feel bad, but it also wasn’t the one he wanted to be feeling with her this close. Finally she blinks slowly, the shadow of her smile persisting as she looks at him now with such care, “Then why haven’t you felt like living in a long time?”

Chance jerks away, staring her down, heart pounding in his ears, “The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not suicidal.” He moves away from her shaking his head, jaw tight, “I just like to have fun. That’s it.”

“No one doubts that, Chance,” she stays in place, not even attempting to reach for him like she’s done before, “There’s just this….emptiness inside of you. We can feel it. Can understand it.”

“So?” She’s finally positioned herself to have the dark evergreens as a backdrop for her face.

“You can be helped and we can do that, Chance,” she urged softly, “You took help once before, what makes taking help from us so different?”

“Hilarious. I’ve given you multiple speeches on why that is.” Why is she being so pushy all of a-, A flicker of light dances just above her hair, much like a firefly and easier to see with the darker colors against her, Of course. He exhales sharply, “I’d remind you once more but,” Stupid. I knew she’d never have been this far out, he thinks, readying himself to leave, “ghosts don’t really remember unless it suits them anyway.”

“Chance wait,” they call out, crawling across the roof once he’s jumped down from it, “Come back. We can talk again. Just you and me.”

“Nice try!” He barks out, eyes cast down as his fingers work to untangle the headphones enough to get him back to the road, “I’m not coming back. Not going to fall for it again.” He finally has the earbuds in place, turning to point at the figment of his desire, “Not today Siren! Not today!” The woods are replaced by the screams of a man who’s fallen for someone he shouldn’t have. Her lips….my poison….How stupid could I be trying to pursue her?, He ground his teeth, nails digging into his palms as he mouthed the lyrics, I can’t even tell when she’s real….Just like they planned her to be.

That was the worst part of being sucked into the hell hole of Bliss, you saw who and what you wanted and they were always idyllic, making it too tempting to stay. Chance slowed, seeing a field of white coming straight at him. Tracey had said she and Faith were friends once upon a time and maybe they were or maybe, just like with him, the drugs made her think it was her old friend. Someone long dead and gone to her. It just makes her look like how Rachel probably would. Nothing more. The one person that could make Hope County more bearable for him….The one mistake he could have fixed after all this time.

#look I think i'm hilarious at times and sometimes i am but i love my meta jokes #see my love for legends and their meta #also look at me finishing something in a timely manner #lets hope it sticks as I feel my anxiety kick up #also sorry for the time of day I wanted to get this posted before I head off to work for the night #x: emo flower child #a chance for faith #faithxoc #chance ruicknar oc #faith seed #faith seed fc5

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littleredwritinghoodxx · 4 years

Text

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda

Thank you @intangiblyyourswrites for the writing challenge.

Prompt:

The real reason Zelda initially shows such a abhorrence to Link is because she’s secretly heads-over-heels for him and refuses to show it. Her pride is on the line, after all.

Rules:

Must be set in the BotW timeline

When it’s set is up to you (e.g. Pre-Calamity or post, pre-Blades of the Yiga or post)

No chronology enforced, but I’m interested to see if we can get a somewhat coherent story out of this!

You may do however many posts/drabbles you’d like

Tag #thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda so we can find your story!

This is set up pre Zelda’s Resentment, and lemme tell you, she is quite resentful.

Also... this is the most sinful thing I have ever written. Like, ye have been warned. This is rated M shit. And by shit, I mean smut. It’s low key smut.

Thank you @bhujerbanwrites for looking this over for me!

I’ve never written smut before.

Dear lord, please be merciful on me.

Alas: I’m not even sorry.

Please enjoy... The Tip of his Sword

There are rumors floating about the castle: rumors that Princess Zelda is head-over-heels for her appointed knight.

But of course she isn’t. She is the Crown Princess of Hyrule. It would be unseemly for her to think about her knight attendant in that way.

Indeed, it would be uncouth for her to think about the way his hands rest upon her hips, large and rough and hot, adjusting her stance during archery practice. It would be improper for her to think about his sharp gaze, those blue irises piercing straight through her, turning her legs to jelly and rendering her utterly useless.

It would be inappropriate for her to think about him pushing her roughly against her desk in her tower, knocking over all of her books and tomes on the Ancient Sheikah – priceless first editions, how dare he – as his hands grasp her hips, her thighs, her breasts. Absolutely unbecoming for her to imagine him trailing hot kisses from the curve of her jaw, all the way down, down, down the column of her neck, as his fingers trail across her skin like a serpent, sliding closer and closer –

Nope. She most certainly is not head-over-heels for Link.

Erhm… her appointed knight.

She turns over in bed and screams into her pillow, the sound muffled as she tries to clear her mind of him. He is always there, the insufferable thing. How dare he. She has much more important things to focus on, like unlocking her Sacred Powers – which, mind you, she is doing her very best at, thank you very much – or discovering more secrets that the Ancient Sheikah left behind in the wake of the prophecy.

She doesn’t have the time to be thinking about her knight stripping her down to her socks, pinning her to the wall – with his one hand tangled in her hair, the other touching her there, smirking against her ear as he whispers uncouth things to her, pushing into her from behind –

Nope. Definitely not head-over-heels for her knight.

She clearly isn’t going to get any sleep that night, and so she whips the covers off of her and swings her legs over the side of her bed, wincing as her warm feet hit cold, unforgiving stone. She fetches her robe from the bedpost, tying the thin, silk tie at the front and steps barefoot across her room.

A warm breeze drifts in from her open windows. Summer is in full swing, and it is no secret that it is one of Zelda’s favorite seasons. The warmer months mean freedom: it means adventures into the wild to study the fauna, expeditions with Purah and Robbie to some Ancient Sheikah excavation. Her father doesn’t approve, but he knows that mother would have said yes, and thus he doesn’t protest.

Guards patrol the courtyard beneath her balcony and bridge to her tower. Rather than being seen and causing even more rumors to float about the castle, Zelda sticks to the shadows. Summers spent with the Sheikah do wonders for her now, as she disappears in plain sight. Perhaps that had been a mistake for her father to send her away in the years following her mother’s death. Impa had been reluctant to guide her in the ways of the Sheikah, but where Impa was hesitant, Purah was awfully enthusiastic.

She makes it across the bridge, with the door to her study shutting with an inaudible click. Here, she lights a candle, her study awash with the flickering flame licking shadows up and down her body. She sits down in her worn out chair, her fingers trailing her notes from where she last left off.

Ah, yes. Academics. This was the one thing that her appointed knight absolutely could not touch – oh, how she desperately aches for his touch. She and Purah had last been studying the ancient shrines off in the Tabantha region. From their most recent research, they concluded that the shrines were meant to be accessed by the Sword’s chosen one.

And the Sword… had chosen him.

Not to be dramatic, but what in Nayru’s name was the Goddess Hylia thinking in choosing him? Everything came so naturally to him: his ability with the sword, his speed and strength, his stunning good looks… He hardly has to work for his success, and yet Zelda is stuck trying day in and day out to unlock a sacred power that she is starting to believe she didn’t inherit.

She sighs, tilting her head back on her chair. Ever since her father had appointed him as her knight, she hardly ever got a moment to herself. These days, field expeditions with the Sheikah included her, Purah, Robbie… and Link.

He really couldn’t take a hint, it seemed. Try as she might to make him feel unwelcome, there he was, always three steps behind her or standing just beyond their excavation, the tip of his sword digging into the ground as he looked coolly beyond.

Indeed, she has some better uses for the tip of his sword.

She sighs, her eyes drifting closed as her legs part just enough. She can think of some ways he might better utilize it. He might lift her so her ass is on her desk, her legs parted as he steps forward. Her legs would wrap around his hips as he presses his lips to hers, kissing her filthily, all tongue and teeth. He would slowly push into her, hissing into her shoulder while she suppresses her moan. They can’t have the castle hear them, now can they? Her pride is on the line, after all.

She might shove him down onto her bed – a place she’s told no place but her husband should lie – and straddle his hips, grinding hers in perfect, languid circles before finally – slowly – sinking down onto him, biting her lip as she watches his usually stoic facade crumble.

He might adjust the rotations of the Royal Guard – he is the Captain, after all – so that her bridge and the courtyard below are deserted in some part of the night. Then, with not a soul in sight, he would brace her against the railing of the bridge, fucking her senseless as she muffles her moans, his fingers digging crescent shape marks into her hips where only she would see –

She comes quickly – fingers moving desperately within her and practiced against her clit. She tilts back in her chair slightly, riding out the orgasm as a small moan escapes from her lips.

She tilts back in her chair too far.

She comes down from her orgasm as she comes down with a crash, a loud yelp escaping her lips as she rolls to soften the fall. She lays there, underwear tangled around her ankles as she breathes heavily, the sweet cerulean of the moon reflected on her stone bridge being replaced with the soft flicker of the candlelight.

Then: commotion.

“Princess?”

The voice is closer than she would have liked, and even more horrifying: it’s his. She stumbles to her feet, her eyes wild as she yanks her underwear up wobbling legs. Hastily, she wipes her fingers along the side of her nightgown, before running them through her hair, trying to make herself not look so… so…

Disheveled.

She hears footsteps on the bridge – running, she can tell. She hasn’t responded, and she knows that he has assumed the worst. Princesses only don’t respond when they’ve been captured or otherwise compromised.

Because apparently, just trying to work through her own frustration with her disgustingly perfect knight isn’t a good enough reason.

She is frantically replacing her chair on its legs and smoothing out her nightgown when –

The door to her study is whipped open. He stands there, his eyes dangerous and his sword unsheathed – stop thinking about his unsheathed sword. She stands there, trying and failing to control her panting, wide-eyed and guilty as fuck – don’t think about that, you terrible, foolish girl.

It’s him, because of course it’s him, it’s always him. He now looks relieved to see her – she’s safe, there’s no threat – but then those eyes squint in suspicion. She had yelled out but she was safe. So then, why?

Then, his nose crinkles.

And Zelda wants to drown herself in the castle moat.

Zelda speaks first and it’s more of a babble, “What in Hylia’s name are you doing here? I can’t get some late night studying in without being barged in by my knight? I’m not a child.”

“I heard you yell out and then a crash. I only came to make sure you were alright,” his voice is calm and leveled and she has to fight against her instinct to get lost in it.

“I toppled out of my chair while looking over the ancient Sheikah shrines in the Tabantha region,” She does not need to explain herself and yet here she is, chattering away at something his peanut sized brain couldn’t hope to comprehend, “As you can see, I am perfectly fine.”

He seems distracted, now that there’s no immediate threat. It’s odd, considering he is never distracted. His eyes dart around the small study, looking everywhere and anywhere except at her. Slowly, he sheaths his sword, and the moment stretches out, the only sound between them the grind of his sword against his scabbard.

She tries not to think about that too hard.

“I can see that.”

Oh?

“Then why are you still here?”

That reaction was uncalled for and she knows it, but she’s strung up and panicking and sweet Nayru just take her soul now.

Link blinks and he takes a step back. She can hear the gears shifting in his head. She hates how methodical he is, hates how thoughtful and polite he is.

She wants to make it perfectly clear that she cannot stand her gorgeous appointed knight.

“I apologize, Princess,” he murmurs, his eyes finally reaching hers. His sharp, blue eyes still her and she thinks that she can scarcely breathe. How dare he, “Do you require any further assistance?”

She would be lying if she said she doesn’t.

Instead, she draws upon her wrath, “I beg your pardon?”

“I can call on your maids to draw up a bath,” Link says, quickly, and though it’s dark, she swears she can see a distinct flush upon his cheeks, “Or call upon the kitchens to send something up to help you sleep.”

Sleep. Goddesses know she is the furthest thing away from sleep.

“That won’t be necessary,” she whispers, hoping that the venom on her tongue will hold his tongue. Oh – the things that man could do with his tongue.

Hylia preserve her.

“You’re dismissed, Sir Link,” she manages to say.

She walks past him, back across the bridge, specifically averting her gaze from the railing of the bridge, facing a perfectly full moon.

“As you command, my Princess,” he whispers, and she wants to scream.

She hates him so very much.

#thirsty-and-in-denial-Zelda #zelink #gonna go wash away my sins now #happy to contribute

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

Text

Surprises (17)

Ah this was meant to up yesterday but then I got a little sidetracked when I came home from work. I am very sorry:((

We’ve got just a little bit of violence in this one because, it was needed, you’ll see. This happens to be a favourite of mine so I hope you enjoy<3

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

No gif because I’m useless and I can’t find the one I wanted. Oops.

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Elain did not want to be at school, she wanted to be at home with Azriel, in bed. Preferably naked. But she was stuck here in her stupid fucking English Lit class where she was absorbing literally no information. He was perfectly fine at home she knew, his mother was there with him, but that didn’t stop her leg from bouncing nervously.

When they were finally let out, she ignored all of the curious glances she received walking out of the room. Her bump was bigger but she was wearing Az’s hoodie so no one could actually see that it had and she tried not to let her hand hold it, something she had taken to doing quite a lot recently. As she walked through the cafeteria and to their usual table, where Cass, Rhys and Lucien were already sat, more people kept looking at her oddly. Some were just curious like the ones from her class, some gave her a quick and disgusted once over and others, they just looked before turning back to their friends and giggling. Elain had to clench her hands into fists so as not to wrap her arms around herself. She would not show them how they affected her; she would not look weak in their eyes. Sitting next to Cass when she finally got to the boys, more people started openly staring at their table, and she watched as Rhys’ brows furrowed and asked with blatant confusion, “And why the fuck is every moron in this school staring at us?”

Lucien laughed from opposite her, “We aren’t that special. It’s probably you and your new scar. You are now even uglier than before.” He winked at Rhys, causing the other boy to let out a gasp and put his hand to his chest.

“Vanserra, how could you? I thought you loved me?!” He put his face in his hands and started to very obnoxiously fake cry. It was at that moment that Feyre and Nesta arrived, the former raising a brow at her boyfriend’s antics as she sat down.

“Why are you being such a drama queen, Rhysand?” Rhys threw himself at Feyre in an instant, burying his face into her neck as he gasped out between more fake sobs;

“B-babe, Lucy d-doesn’t love me any-anymore.”

Elain’s sister only rolled her eyes whilst patting his back, causing Elain to giggle, which stopped as soon as it started when a voice rang out through the cafeteria. A voice she really didn’t want to fucking deal with right now.

“Well would you look at this. Velaris High’s new ‘mommy to be’ finally decided to show her face.” They all turned to see Ianthe standing there with a hand on her hips; a smirking Tamlin at her back. Fucking bastard. Elain was frozen and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. How the fuck could that stuck up bitch know that she was pregnant? Cassian had his good arm tightly wrapped around Nesta’s waist, stopping her from getting up but he was also wincing at the way she dug her nails in. Lucien and Rhys were glaring at Tamlin and Feyre was silently seething.

Cassian tipped his head to stare at the ceiling as he groaned, “Please, please just fuck off, Ianthe. No one is in the mood for your stupid bullshit today.”

“But I’m just so curious. I was at the hospital just visiting one day, when I overheard a conversation. And then Nesta came storming out of the room. I waited for a little bit after and Tamlin’s dearest Feyre came out too. So, how did our little freak manage to get someone to even look at her, let alone put a baby in her?”

Feyre snarled from where she sat, vibrating with anger, “I am not his anything. Call my sister a freak again Ianthe, and you won’t like the consequences.”

Elain wanted to be anywhere else than here. She wanted to be at home, with Az and forget this day ever happened. Ianthe laughed, something like a hyena, and gods it was the worst sound.

“But she is a freak. A freak with a bastard baby and even better, a cripple for a baby daddy. Yeah, we heard about dear Azzie. Such a shame, he really was a looker before.” She was smirking by the end and Elain felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and there was pain coursing through her hand and wrist. She shook out her fist, cursing, and looked up to see Ianthe with a hand over her nose, blood leaking through her fingers. She was also screaming.

“You fucking bitch! You broke my gods damned nose!”

Cassian had let go of Nesta who was also now on her feet, and proceeded to bang Ianthe’s head against a chair. The screeching stopped but people throughout the cafeteria were now cheering and chanting. Cassian whistled lowly, eyes dark as he watched his girlfriend. “Sweetheart, what have I told you about turning me on in public places?” Nesta simply flipped him off, making him chuckle.

Tamlin was looking between them and an unconscious Ianthe lying on the floor, opening his mouth to say something before the principal walked in. “What on earth is going on in here?” He looked at the group of them, sending someone to get the nurse when he saw Ianthe, and narrowed his eyes at Elain. She was still shaking out her slightly throbbing fist. “My office, right now.” Turning on the spot, he gestured with a hand for her to move forward, following behind her as she did as she was told. There were faint murmurings of Rhys saying, “Who knew Lain had such fire?” as she walked away. It was only then that she allowed her hand to drop, curving her hand around her steadily growing stomach, hand rubbing against the side. Her brows furrowed when it felt like something was tickling her and pressed her hand down a little harder. She gasped when it happened again, eyes widening as a shocked smile spread across her face.

Her little girl was moving.

Elain dragged her hand downwards and her girl followed. It took everything she had to not let herself cry with joy. Her girl made her presence known right when Elain needed her most.

Mama is here baby girl. I’ve got you, my littlest one.

She held her head high and back straight as she walked into the principal’s office, proud of herself. She had defended herself, the man that she loved and that wonderful little miracle they’d created together. She had defended her family.

Just as she always would.

oOoOo

Azriel peered up over his book from where he was sitting on the sofa, watching as his family walked through the front door of the house, all of them laughing loudly. Cass and Rhys both had an arm each looped through one of Elain’s as she giggled at them. Feyre and Nesta came through just behind them, both smiling wide as they watched the trio in front of them. Cassian let go of her to flop down next to him and Rhys twirled Elain before bringing her close, singing a random song off tune as he danced with her. Azriel felt a small twinge of jealousy at the sight, but it was overpowered by the happiness he felt as he watched her. This was the brightest she’d been in almost a week and his heart soared.

His brother nudged him with an elbow, his whole body twitching with how giddy he was. “Oh dearest brother, you would never guess what kind of day we’ve had.”

“No I can’t, but I’m assuming it was a good one?” He didn’t take his eyes off of his girlfriend, who seemed to be glowing with all of the excitement. He wanted nothing more than to get up and take her into his own arms, he ached to do so. He pushed it down and finally tore his eyes away, meeting hazel eyes similar to his own.

“Ianthe knows about the baby.” Azriel’s eyes went wide at that before abruptly spun back to Elain, but she didn’t seem bothered by it, didn’t look like she cared one bit.

“How the hell could she possibly fucking know? You can’t even see Elain’s bump when she’s wearing baggy clothes.”

Nesta spoke up; returning from where she’d disappeared into the kitchen, bottle of water in one hand and Elain’s vitamins in the other, handing them both off to his girlfriend. “She was at the hospital the day Elain collapsed, lurking around like a creepy loser after I stormed out to come and beat your ass.” There was no heat behind the words and she even winked at him. “She called Elain a freak, the baby a bastard and then you a cripple.” His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at that. He couldn’t give two fucks about what people thought of him, but that was his girl and his baby. The anger inside of him had clearly transformed the look on his face because Rhys nodded at the sight.

“That was your girl’s thoughts exactly because the next thing we knew, Elain was out of her seat and punching Ianthe square in the nose.” Pride over took him then at the image it provided him. His beautiful Ellie all fired up. As he looked at her he could see the pride she too felt about herself, but her lips were also formed into a shy smile. His girlfriend was not violent, never had been. She was kind, loving and so amazingly sweet; it was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her. The opposite of him but she also matched him perfectly.

“That’s my girl.” He breathed the words with such awe, watching the way Elain flushed at the praise, from her cheeks, down her neck and then it disappeared, hidden by the clothes she was wearing. Azriel didn’t need to see though, he knew exactly what it would look like from their times together. Part of his anatomy stirred at the thought of getting her naked again, making that flush spread all over. Thought of the way she’d gasp and bite her lip when he traced it gently with his fingertips. He shook his head of the thoughts when Elain spoke softly, the first time since they’d all gotten home.

“Could the rest of you give us a minute please?” Both Rhys and Cassian turned to look at him, both of them with matching, shit eating grins on their faces as they wiggled their brows. Feyre and Nesta rolled their eyes at the pair, forcefully dragging their boyfriends’ from the room despite their protests. When they were alone, Elain slowly walked over to stand in front of him where he was sitting, holding her hands out to him. He raised his own and placed them in hers, feeling the way she squeezed gently before her beautiful voice filled the room again. “I know it’s awful of me but before today, sometimes I regretted that night we shared.” His face fell at the confession and he went to pull his hands away, but Elain only gripped his hands tighter.

“Ellie...”

“No, listen. It’s just that, on the bad days since then, I just didn’t feel like me anymore, you know? I felt like I had lost myself, lost the person that I was.” All Azriel could do was nod, not understanding where she was going with this, but he listened anyway. “But then today, today Ianthe happened. She said those things, called us those names and I just sort of lost it. She called our little girl a bastard and so I punched her and fuck, it felt so fucking amazing to do that. I actually felt good.” She deserved to feel good because of that. Ianthe had always been a raging bitch, an attention seeking one at that. It was about time that somebody put her in her place.

A wonderful and breathtaking smile broke out over her face, twisting her hands to bring his own to her stomach, curving them around one spot to the side. “And when I was walking to the principal’s office, I took comfort in holding our baby, just in time to feel that.” At which point, she pushed his hands down a little harder, and he felt something flutter beneath his palm. He was confused for a moment but then it happened again, making shock and astonishment overtake him. Elain took her own hands away, just letting him feel all on his own and cupped his cheek, tilting his head back to look at her.

“Is that what I think it is?” She nodded, laughing quietly and he let every emotion wash over him, tears spilling down his cheeks. They were brushed away by gentle thumbs before letting his head drop so he could press his face to the movements, feeling the little thud, thud, thud, against his cheekbone. Gods it was so fucking surreal, being able to feel the way his little girl moved, making her presence known in the best way she possibly could.

“It was like she was telling me that everything was alright, that she was the one that was there for me, not the other way around. And I knew, I knew then in that moment I could never regret it, could never regret you. I could never regret her. It simply wasn’t possible to do so because I love you both, so terribly much.”

“I love you too, Ellie. You have no idea how fucking much.” He pushed up her clothes, baring her bump to him and he pressed his lips to her warm skin, kissing the little flutters he could feel there. His daughter’s movements sped up as he spoke against skin, pouring his heart out to the girls who meant the world to him.

“And you, my angel, daddy loves you more than words can describe. You are my greatest gift and I promise you, to protect and love you, until the day my heart stops beating. Maybe not even then, sweetheart.”

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Oh my god, I gave you more fluff, who am I?;)) If you want to be added/removed from the tags then just give me a shout!!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @lacewilde @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @kvi-arts @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @starrynightsbooks @maastrash @kendarbahr @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @b00kworm @thewayshedreamed @snowflakesandstarlight

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driedflowersforbrain · 4 years

Text

You’ll Run Away // Theo Raeken One Shot

Not my gif.

Summary- Theo finds the reader in the street in the a drunk state, takes her home and some undiscovered feelings are confessed.

Pairing- Theo Raeken x Reader

Tags- Fluff, super fluff. Kissing. Nothing out of the blue.

A/n- Here goes nothing. First work of mine. Hope you guys like it. Theo Raeken is my soft baby soooo this was obv coming. Comments are welcome.

Go ahead <3<3<3

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Your Pov

I was pissed at Scott for trying to stop me. The pack was on some sort of mission that night, to try finding a way to know more about the Dread Doctors. Considering the fact, that I was a mere human, any and all details regarding their plan were kept from me. Scott, Stiles and I've been childhood friends. We have always been inseparable. But lately, I feel useless because I can't help them in any way.

But it wasn't my fault. So being the stupid, dumb idiot I am, I decided to do something reckless. Maybe not reckless, but I went to the club. A little clubbing and drinks never killed nobody.

Theo's Pov

I was driving back home after a frustrating meeting with the Dread Doctors. They didn't understand how important it was for me to have a pack. I was still gripping the steering wheel tightly and clenching my jaw, trying to control my anger.

I was in downtown now. It was quite dark outside and late. The streets were mostly empty except the occasional people here and there. When suddenly, my eyes fell on the dark silhouette swaying, dancing on the sidewalk. There was something awfully familiar about that figure. I stopped my truck and got out.

It was y/n! But what the hell was she doing out here at this time.

'Y/n?' I said in a questioning tone despite knowing well that it was her.

She turned around, confused at first but soon her expression changed. A sheepish grin appearing on her lips. While a tired sigh escaped my lips.

'Theo!' she said, her words slurring. She took a step towards me, stumbling and falling. My supernatural instincts kicked in and I got her before she fell and hurt herself.

'Are you drunk?' Now that was a literal question. I didn't think of y/n as anyone who would go out late and get wasted, maybe I was about to be proved wrong.

My hands were still wrapped around her torso, trying to get her to straighten up.

'Yeshh' she said answering my previous question.

'Why?'

'Cause..cause' she thought hard for a while, withdrawing from my embrace, swaying left to right. I held out both my hands just in case.

'Yeah, cause 'm angry at pack'

'Your pack?'

'Yes' she said seemingly proud of herself for giving a reasonable answer.

'Why are you angry at them?' I asked trying to get any sort of information from her that might help my plans for the future.

'Oh no!' she suddenly looked distressed.

'What's wrong?' I was on edge now.

'I forgot my glasses at the club.'

'y/n, you don't wear glasses.' I said, defeated. I knew she was incapable of helping in my endeavors in any way.

'Come with me.' I grabbed her wrist, trying my best to be gentle. I pulled her across the road towards the dark blue truck. She leaned against the passenger side door and kept mumbling something. I grabbed my phone from the pocket of my trousers. I searched for Scott's number through my contacts and hit call when I found it.

Pressing the phone to my ear, I waited. The phone ringed for a while then went to voicemail. After my three unsuccessful attempts to reach Scott, I gave up and sighed loudly. I looked at y/n. She was staring at the sky, looking towards the sky, the back of her head softly pressed against the passenger side window. She was humming something.

A small smile appeared on my lips. Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat. Why was I smiling?! I wiped the smile off my face and grabbed y/n's forearm and opened the truck's door.

Seems like I have to do this myself. Driving drunk y/n home was not something I thought I would be doing tonight.

As got to the driver's side, I tried reasoning with myself. Maybe this would earn me some extra credits with the pack. This may make them think I can be trusted after all. Y/n didn't exactly trust me either but her that demeanor was asleep somewhere at the moment.

'Do you wanna hear a joke?' she asked innocently, her eyes gleaming like a child.

I looked straight ahead, towards the road and replied without looking at her,' No!' It came out harsher then I wanted but doesn't matter now.

Y/n stuck her bottom lip out and pouted like a kid, giving me puppy eyes. Oh no, I was obviously not falling for this. I'm a highly modified creature, a mix of supernatural and pseudo science. No way in hell was I going to give in.

Exactly seven minutes and three glances in her direction later, I gave in.

'Fine.'

A huge smile broke out on her face. 'What will you call a werewolf that doesn't know they are a werewolf?'

I thought for a moment. Actually trying to contribute to her efforts. 'I don't know, dumb wolf or something?'

'No silly!' She giggled loudly, making me smile again but this time it slipped my mind to be bothered about this unreasonable smiling. ' You call it an unawerewolf!'

I raised my eyebrow more amused by her answer than finding the joke funny. She laughed at her own joke. And hearing her laugh made me laugh myself. The encounter with dread doctors was now at the back of my head.

'That was really bad.' I said shaking my head despite my smile saying something else.

'Shut up.' She pouted. I guess I had offended her. I took this as a chance to stop any further conversation. She was quiet for a while.

Soon y/n reached for the radio, turning the button for any station playing nice songs. After toying with the button for a few minutes, she finally stopped at a station playing a Kygo song. Firestone was blasting from the speakers.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw y/n rolling down her window. But before I could react, she poked her head and then her torso was out of the window. I grabbed her shirt, trying to hold her, and also keeping the car steady.

'Y/n, get your head back inside and shut the window.'

'NO!'

'Y/N I SAID GET INSIDE!' I raised my voice. She gave in. After doing as I said, she slowing looked at me. My heart was beating erratically. I was worried?

The rest of the drive passed in silence. When we reached her house, I went to her side and opened the door.

She had her arms crossed and a dull expression on her face.

'C'mon, you' re home' I said, while getting her out and closing the door with my foot. She still had the same expression, not giving me any reply, not even looking towards me.

'Okay, I am sorry... for yelling at you' I said rubbing the back of my neck,'even though it was totally your fault' I added under my breath, sure she didn't hear that.

Hearing me say this, a smile broke out on her face. She threw both her hands around my bicep, resting her head on my shoulder. My heart fluttered, slightly.

'Theeeooo' she said in a sing-song voice. The rest of what she said was probably gibberish, her words too slurred for me to understand but her voice was high- pitched, cute. We both moved to the front door, swaying because of y/n of course.

'Keys?'

' Flower pot.' she said with a small yawn.

I understood immediately, looking under the flowerpot beside the door. And surely there was a key . I unlocked the door, took under inside but stopped at the threshold.

'Good night y/n. You should rest now.'

'Wait? Where are you going?' she said genuinely disappointed.

'I should go.' I raised my eyebrow, trying to keep my point. I turned around to leave.

Suddenly I felt two arms wrap around me from behind and a head resting gently on my back. There was silence for a while. Neither of us moving. I didn't try turning around.

'Please...stay' I heard her say in a small yet soft voice.

I finally did turn around.

Sighing I thought to myself , 'This is going to be a long night.'

Soon I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed, in y/n's room. It was nothing like I expected it to be. The bed was in the center of the room. Fairy lights covered the ceiling, illuminating the room with their yellow glow. A wall was covered in posters, photos of the pack and her family, artworks and evidence of any creative outbursts y/n had. It was incredibly quiet in the house considering that y/n lived with her uncle, who was her only family, and even he was out of the town most of the times.

She was currently in her walk-in closet, ransacking it in hopes of finding something comfortable to wear at night. The door to the closet was open a little. I sneaked a quick glance inside but then quickly looked away. Maybe she was changing. I heard quite shuffling, thanks to my supernatural instincts.

Not long after, she came out wearing an over-sized grey hoodie that reached up to her knees and fluffy socks. She gradually dragged her feet to the bed and sat down beside me.

I turned a bit to look at her. Water drops still rested on her face, probably from washing her face after changing. Her face was lit with the faint yellow light, highlighting the delicate curves and soft features. Her eyes were drooping.

"You should lay down. Your look sleepy." She looked at me slowly and shook her head. A frown appeared on my face.

"Why not?" I asked looking at her hand. She was fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

"Because...because you'll...ran away." She said in a soft voice. My face softened upon hearing this. I understood where this was coming from. Y/n was all alone on the street, Scott wasn't picking up any calls, y/n was angry at the pack. Now it didn't take a genius to understand what was going on here. She was left out of whatever the hell the pack was doing. She was alone without her pack. And frankly, nobody at the moment knew how that felt other than me.

I turned my body towards her. I slowly took her hands, which made her look up at me. My thumb rubbing gentle circle upon her hand.

"Hey, I'm not running away anywhere. Not from you." We sat in silence for a while, hands still intertwined.

"You should really sleep. I'll go...sleep on the couch...outside." I said getting up, pointing towards the living room. Then suddenly a look at her face made me stop. I sighed.

I took off my t shirt. A small smile came on y/n's face when she realized I wasn't going anywhere.

Y/n laid down on the bed leaving place for me. I climbed on the bed and put the cover on both of us, and turned off the light.

We both laid on our backs. Moonlight pouring through the only window in the room. I turned towards y/n. Her y/e/c eyes were open and her breathing even. My heart skipped a beat. That seemed to be happening a lot tonight.

I brushed a strand of dark brown hair away from y/n's face. She turned towards me. I was afraid I was afraid I might have offended. Usually sober y/n kept her distance from me, always plotting with Stiles because they were the only ones I hadn’t won over yet. But somehow despite my agenda, I just couldn’t stay away from her. Sometimes it really frustrated me that I was getting distracted by a girl, but then I imagined her face with those soft curls framing her face and that smile that made the sunshine nervous and-

I even got scared that something I might do or maybe if she got caught up in the middle of my fight some day, she’d get hurt. And that was enough to keep me from trying to get too attached to her.

But on seeing her eyes night now, at this moment, relief washed over me. There was a delicate smile on her face, like I was not some stranger to her who she barely knew. Like I could be someone, was someone she trusted.

Unconsciously my hand lifted a little and stroked her cheekbone as lightly as I could. She wrapped her hand around my fingers and for a moment I thought she might push it away, but to my utter surprise, she pressed it to her cheek, leaning into my touch.

She was so precious, and her pack had abandoned her despite knowing how alone she was with only an uncle to call her family. Anger bubbled inside me, in that moment I could have fought the whole pack, even killed Scott but not for my gain, rather at the thought that they could call themselves your family and leave you behind like this.

My attention was snapped back to her, as she moved, pulling closer to me. I could fell her breath fanning my face, due to our proximity. All the anger that my erupting inside, plaguing my thoughts, vanished in mere seconds, as I took in her scent. Y/n was the one who drank tonight yet here I was feeling intoxicated.

My eyes scanned her face. Drinking in every detail, trying my best to memorize in the fear that this might not last till tomorrow. My eyesight lingered on her lips. They looked so soft like frail petals of a rose. I wanted so bad to kiss her.

What happened next had me in shock. As if she read my mind, y/n slowly leaned forward and kissed my lips. It took a few seconds for my shock to subside. Once it did, our lips met and it was nothing like I had ever felt before. The bite, the blood lust, everything fell flat in front of this.

Our lips moved in perfect synchrony like they were made for this, and after a lifetime of longing they were united, knowing every inch of each other. I gently tugged at her lower lip as she smiled into my lips. I slowly let my tongue slip into her mouth, tasting the alcohol and the sweet taste of y/n that I had been longing for so long, yet only realized it now.

I ran my hand through her hair, as softly as I could. Something had taken over me. As if my hands had a mind of their own. Y/n's hand reached forward closing any distance that remained between us and wrapped around my torso. It made me kind of nervous. I stiffened a little. But slowly, it comforted me. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Felt calm, comfortable.

I closed my eyes. One hand reaching her waist. Suddenly, she climbed on top of me, our bodies fitting like two halves of a moulds. I wanted this for the rest of my life. But there was a nagging that I didn’t deserve her, this won’t last when I wake up. So I tried to savor every second of this.

But no. No. I couldn’t. Y/n was drunk. Maybe she didn’t even know what she was doing.

I lightly pushed her away, even if it broke my heart. And laid her down beside me as before. A little pout appeared and her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked cupping my face with her hands.

“Y/n, you are drunk. Just go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“But I want to kiss you.” She said childishly pecking my lips, it took everything in me to not give in.

I sighed,”Y/n, I can’t. You...you are you. And tomorrow when the sun comes up, you’ll see me as me again, and I would be nothing but a guy you don’t trust. And I can’t live with that. Not after tonight.” I blurted out in a single breath.

“ But I like you silly, since the day you saved Scott at school, yeah you are a little shady and your hair are too perfect all the time to not be a wig. But I still like you.” She said as if it was the most obvious fact.

A chuckle escaped my lip,” My hair are real.”

Her lips broke into a hearty grin as she ran her hands through my hair. She leaned forward again, but I pulled back, leading to another frown.

“Not tonight, y/n. The next time I kiss you I want you to be sober.”

“Okay. Cuddle me though.” She agreed grudgingly and then made grabby hands.

How could I not give in to this. So that is how I spent my night. With my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as I could.

When I thought that she had fallen asleep, she said in a hushed, sleepy voice-

“Theo, nothing changes tomorrow. Not ever.”

I pressed a light kiss to her temple before falling into a deep slumber devoid of any nightmares, which was a first. All I dreamed of was y/n and the possibility of a not-so-dreadful future.

Something had changed tonight. I don't really know what. But this girl beside me... I'll not ran away. Not from her. Not ever now.

#theo #theo raeken #teenwolf #teen wolf #stiles #scott #pack #scottmcall #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #theoimagines #theo raeken x reader #theoxreader #theo one shot #fanfic #oneshots #one shot #fluff #theo raeken fluff

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pb1138 · 3 years

Text

Soft

A little drabble for my new Inquisitor and Cassandra. I’m not super happy with it, but it’s the first thing I’ve written to completion in... too damn long, and I know if I don’t post it now, I probably won’t for quite some time. So. It’ll have to do because I need to get out of this damn rut. (And also I REALLY have to go to bed.)

Summary: Melodie recites a poem to Cassandra and an admission is made for the first time.

Rating: Mature maybe? Teen and a half? Nothing explicit, not even heavily implied I don’t think.

Fingers drifted lazily across bare skin, languid and gentle. A soft sigh escaped gently parted lips which tugged into a smile. “That tickles,” Cassandra whispered.

Melodie raised herself up onto her elbow and breathed a laugh though her fingers did not cease. Along the curve of the hip, across an expanse of soft belly, along firmly muscled arms, anywhere they could go, they did. Lips pressed to a bare shoulder, mumbled against the skin there, “I cannot resist.” The fingers continued their ghosting path, leaving nothing untouched, and the lips began their own path up to the crook of the neck. “’Her skin glows with the light of flame, more precious and fuller than brilliant amber’” she whispered, eyes drifting along her lover’s body which did indeed seem to glow in the flickering warmth of the fire.

“A poem? Now?” Cassandra huffed a laugh, and Melodie could practically feel the eye roll.

Melodie smiled and kissed Cassandra’s neck again, savoring the moment. Her hand came to rest atop Cassandra’s hip, her thumb drawing small circles against the skin. “Hush,” she chastised. Cassandra laughed again but conceded with a wafting of her hand. “Merci, mon ange.” Melodie moved to rest her cheek atop Cassandra’s shoulder, her eyes trained on the movement of her hand. After a dramatic clearing of the throat, she continued:

It is nearly impossible to put into words the breadth of her allure from those hazel eyes which bid me bonjour to the voice as welcoming as songbirds

“Ugh,” Cassandra huffed. “That is so cheesy.”

Melodie huffed back and flicked her lover’s hip. “Fiche-moi la paix,” she grumbled.

“What does that even mean?” Cassandra laughed.

“Mon dieu, Cassandra.” Melodie could not help the giggle that bubbled from her chest which was echoed in Cassandra’s own laugh. Clearing her throat once more, she exasperated, “May I continue?” with a broad gesticulation.

Cassandra snorted and cast a look over her shoulder. “Who is the author?”

Another huffed “mon dieu” and Melodia swatted Cassandra’s bare ass playfully. “I did of course.”

“Oh.” Warm hazel eyes blinked wide with surprise, cheeks darkened with embarrassment. “I…” A shy, warm smile spread against her lips while she lifted her hand to tuck a curl behind Melodie’s ear. “Then, please continue,” she whispered.

Melodie pressed a kiss to Cassandra’s wrist. The warrior turned onto her back to give her lover her full attention, her thumb caressing her cheek with all the tender affection she could muster. Melodie leaned into it, her eyes flickering about her face as she studied it a moment longer, her own cheeks a dark pink by now. With a confident but quiet voice, she continued:

To be in her presence is like no other. It is the same magic to urge les fleurs to bloom, the captivation of the ocean draws to her lips, et la mystique of les forests exists in her eyes. Her strength rivals that of les montagnes, infallible and breathtaking for it is in her embrace that one may find home.

It is by la grâce des dieux that I am able to say je t’adore, doudou.

“What did you just call me?” Cassandra lifted up on her elbows, pulling away with mouth agape in a poorly concealed unreleased laugh.

Melodie blinked, not understanding her folly for a long moment before, “Oh—I—mon dieu, Cassandra,” she huffed with exasperation. A swat to the shoulder pushed Cassandra back to the mattress. Laughter filled the room as Melodie swung her legs over Cassandra’s hips, her hair falling about them in gentle curls. “It is a… Maker, how do you say… an affectionate—no, a term of dearing?” she explained haltingly, blanking on the word.

“Endearment?”

“Oh, oui, that!”

Cassandra laughed unabashedly, her hands coming to rest at Melodie’s hips. “Somehow, I do not believe you,” she teased.

Melodie stuck her tongue out and huffed. “Truly, it is. It is like… Soft. Like a child’s toy, a soft animal.”

“Are you implying that I am a teddy bear?”

Melodie sat up straight on Cassandra’s hips, her hand to her chin in a dramatic display of pensiveness. “You are certainly soft like one,” she mused.

Cassandra gripped Melodie’s hips and held her tight as she sat up, her mouth coming to the base of her neck. “I will show you soft,” she threatened, her grip lightening as her arms snaked about Melodie’s waist. “Many things I have been called in my life but never soft.”

Melodie giggled, her arms coming to rest lazily atop Cassandra’s strong shoulders. Lips moved against flesh slowly and deliberately, eliciting soft sighs and breaths from Melodie who let her head fall back with a lazy grin. The hands about her waist moved up, fingers trailing long lines to come to rest against the back of her shoulders, cradling her close as the mouth at her neck trailed up to the chin then at last to the lips, those lips which she had savored endlessly for nigh on a year now. She pressed Melodie closer to her, their bodies flush against one another as their lips moved together, her hands finding their way into the other’s tangled mess of waves.

They parted breathless moments later, each as pink as the other. They both took each other in for a long while, their fervor releasing with each soft brush, each stroke, as they looked into each other’s eyes. Melodie brought her hand to Cassandra’s cheek and, as she had done thousands of times before, drew her finger along the length of her scar, her eyes trained on it intently, and Cassandra leaned as she had done thousands of time before into the touch, her eyes drifting shut.

“Thank you,” she whispered, though whether to Melodie or someone else, she could not be sure.

“But of course, mon ange,” purred Melodie in her thick accent. “I will have you know I spent a full hour to write that poem.”

“Oh my, a whole hour?” teased Cassandra, leaning back to look upon the woman in her arms. “However will I return the favor?”

“I am sure we could come to some sort of… arrangement.”

Cassandra laughed at her waggling brows, free and comfortable here in this room. “Maker, but how I love you.”

Melodie stilled, her blush returning full force. Cassandra blinked, only realizing moments later that this admission was their first. This was a truth both had known for ages, even before their first embrace, but never said aloud. It laid unspoken between them like the thinnest of glass, fragile and precarious, as if it would shatter if it were acknowledged. It lay now at their feet in millions of tiny shards, the veil lost, and she was left standing truly naked and vulnerable.

Moments passed in silence. An eternity, it felt, each second longer than the last as they looked at one another. Did time always move so slowly?

“Do you mean it?” Melodie whispered at long last.

Cassandra swallowed hard. Of course she did. They both knew it. To ask was pointless. “I…” She sighed, relenting to the moment. Her soul had already been bared, to hide it now would do no good. “Yes. I… do.”

And then Melodie smiled. Softly at first, then wider, and then she began to laugh. Cassandra, startled, could only watch as Melodie threw her head back, her body shaking in her arms, her laughter filling the air around them. The fingers against her scar moved to the back of her head, and a grinning set of lips were on hers. Tears were left on her cheeks as Melodie leaned back to beam brilliantly at her, still laughing as she cried. “I have waited so long to hear you say these words, mon ange.” Another kiss, this one lighter, hands cupping her cheeks delicately as if she too were made of glass. “I love you, Cassandra. Maker help me, I love you so much,” she mumbled in between kisses.

Cassandra’s strength seemed to fail her in her relief. They fell back in a fit of giggles, Melodie still crying, Cassandra’s own grin pushing the limits of what her face could muster.

The next hour passed in a blur of teasing kisses, soft caresses, surprise tickles, shrieking laughter, quiet admissions, and long gazes until they lay beside each other, everything to be said already said. They looked into one another’s eyes, hands held loosely between them their only form of contact, both wearing the same lightly dazed smiles.

“Melodie?”

“Mm?”

Cassandra raised a brow, her smile turning into genuine curiosity. “That thing you said before. What did it mean?”

“What did I say?”

“That… Fish mwah in pay or whatever it was.”

“I…” Melodie stared at Cassandra for a long moment before sighing heavily. “We have been in each other’s company for three years, Cassandra, how do you not know this yet?”

“Well? What does it mean?” she huffed.

“Leave me alone.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “You are not going to answer my question?”

Melodie’s stare only deepened. “That’s not…” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly trying not to lose herself as she bit back laughter. “That is what it means, mon ange,” she choked out, evidently pained with her efforts to keep her composure.

Cassandra’s cheeks darkened. “Oh,” she muttered lamely. “I see.”

Melodie giggled at her lover and stretched out to peck the tip of her nose. “Oh how I love you,” she teased.

Cassandra raised a brow at her and drew her hands away, folding her arms across her chest. “Fish mwah in pays, .”

The snowfall about Skyhold did little to muffle the Inquisitor’s laughter as it spread out into the night. Safe in the confines of her warm chamber, the Inquisitor and her Seeker would spend the next few hours poking and teasing and laughing together before they would fall asleep in front of the fire beneath warm blankets, nestled lovingly into one another’s arms.

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raywritesthings · 3 years

Text

Sharing Space, Sharing Sleep

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel and Oliver spend a night in the bunker. *Can be read on AO3, link is in bio*

The problem with a secret basement floor that was only accessible from the elevator was that it was only accessible if the elevator worked. And sometimes that just didn’t happen.

She really wished it had decided to stop working after she and Ollie had gone home for the night, though.

“Still nothing?”

Laurel watched as Oliver prodded the button again with his finger while she held her phone flashlight aloft for him to see. The button didn’t even light to indicate the elevator had been called. “Nope.”

“Okay. Do we want to try the circuit breaker in case it’s not the storm? What are our options?”

“It’s definitely the storm,” Oliver decided. And he was right, probably, but she frowned anyway. “I can try prying the elevator doors open, going through the ceiling hatch and using a grapple arrow to get up to the doors on the first floor.”

“You wouldn’t have anywhere to stand to get leverage to pry those open,” she pointed out. “And didn’t Cisco add that magnetized thing to the doors after Curtis came down here?”

“Right. So they’re not gonna open without the access code, which we can’t enter in without power.” He backed away from the elevator, hands resting at his waist. “Sometimes there’s such a thing as too much security.”

“Curtis,” she repeated, and in the limited light from the phone, she saw his grimace. Laurel checked it. “Well, it looks like the cell towers are down, so no chance of calling for a rescue. I’m also on 32% battery.”

“You can shut it off,” he told her. “We’ll be fine.”

She wondered if there had been nights on the island spent in pitch blackness because a fire wasn’t possible. In any case, he was right; it was just the two of them down here, so they were perfectly safe. Laurel shut off her phone and followed the sound of his footsteps and the shadowy outline of his broad back towards the center of the room. It would be best to sit down and get comfortable. Who knew how long they would be stuck without power? The storm had gotten quite intense before they’d been forced to head in from patrol, and if a power line was down it wasn’t likely to get fixed very quickly on Christmas Eve when most people were at home enjoying time with loved ones.

Neither Laurel or Oliver had had that on their agenda for the evening. Sara was still away with the Legends, and she hadn’t seen her mother since last spring and her dad’s funeral. Oliver, on the other hand, had no plans since Thea had gone away to meet Roy for the holidays and Felicity had Hanukkah plans with Detective Malone. It had given John the night off to be with his wife and twins, so really they were doing a good deed rather than simply distracting themselves from their relatively empty personal lives.

Her boot connected with the step up onto the platform, and Laurel stumbles a little, only for Oliver’s arms to catch and steady her.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just came a little sooner than I thought.” She forced an easy smile, not sure why she bothered since he couldn’t see it, and reluctantly pulled away from his hold. Laurel felt along the table’s edge until she reached one of the chairs pushed into it and pulled it back out to take a seat. “Well.”

“Well,” Oliver echoed, by the sounds of it sitting not quite across from her several feet away in his own chair.

She tried to think of something, anything to say. There was a bubble of nerves in her gut that wouldn’t let her focus. It had always been that way with Ollie. Sometimes more intense, sometimes less. Lately, it had been more.

She told herself several times a day that it didn’t matter that he was single and had been for months, that the two of them were working together better than ever in both the field and their professional careers. He didn’t have any sort of feelings for her anymore, and if she ever indicated she did for him, it would only make things strained between them again. And she didn’t want that.

It wouldn’t be good for them or for the continued protection of the city if the specter of her feelings started hanging between them again. Though as she thought about their current situation, she couldn’t help a small snort leaving her.

“Something funny?” Oliver asked.

“Not exactly. Just thinking, you know, what all the criminals would say if they could see us now… trapped in our own base.”

There was a pause, then Oliver let out his own low chuckle. “Yeah, they’d consider that their Christmas gift, probably.”

“Hm.” Laurel looked down. “You know, it’s sad, but I can’t actually remember the last Christmas present I’ve given anyone? I guess I’m kind of a Scrooge.”

“You didn’t have a lot of reasons to celebrate the last several,” Oliver pointed out. “I’m not doing any better on that front than you. At least you saved all our lives last year.” He was silent for a moment, then she heard him ask, “What was the last thing I ever got you?”

A kiss on the cheek, she thought, the memory of it vivid enough it felt imprinted. Though she quickly realized the next-closest answer wasn’t any better. So she lied. “Uh, you know, it was so long ago I don’t know if I remember.”

“Ow,” Oliver replied. “Okay, maybe it was a while ago, but you kind of have to discount five of those years.”

“True.”

“And 2006 isn’t — it’s a decade. That’s not so long when you cut that in half,” he continued to excuse. “What did I get you that year? I could swear — wait, was it…” He trailed off, probably realizing he’d just stepped on a metaphorical land mine.

“A black lace nightie?” Laurel finished for him. “Yeah.”

“Right.”

She could remember it perfectly. Opening it in his room on Christmas Eve ten years ago. He’d told her she wouldn’t want to wait for Christmas Day in front of her family with such mischief in his eyes she’d known it had to be something risqué. The blush that had risen to her cheeks as she’d taken it out of the box, the way he’d licked his lips as she held it up to herself. She’d felt powerful and desired and more like a woman then than she’d had before, and she hadn’t wasted time making use of his gift.

“I don’t have it anymore,” she told him, the bluntness helping tear herself out of those recollections before she went too far. “I think I burned it in 2010.”

“Hm.”

“I probably was drunk and hating your guts,” she confessed. It was somehow both better and worse that she couldn’t see his face right now.

“Well, here’s to neither of those things being true anymore,” Oliver said, and the cheer in his tone didn’t sound too forced.

“Definitely,” she agreed. They lapsed into a silence that somehow wasn’t unbearable. She supposed they’d been through all of that together once and reminiscing on it wasn’t going to be worse than living it.

The temperature had to have been falling all the while since the power failed, but it was becoming noticeable now. Laurel folded her arms over her chest and did her best not to shiver.

“Any idea what time it is?”

“It was past two when we got back from patrol, I think,” Oliver answered.

Laurel nodded, then her mouth opened in a yawn. “Pretty late. We’re probably sleeping down here.”

“Yeah.” She heard him shift, then ease up from the chair. By now she could make out a solid outline of him even in the darkness. “We’ve got the medical cot. You can have that. I’ll use one of the tables.”

She frowned and stood as well. “Ollie, you’re not using one of the tables.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not beds, for one thing.” She reaches out and touched one of the metal surfaces, immediately drawing her hand away. “Also, they’re freezing.”

“I’m not cold.”

“Well, I am,” she insisted. “You’ll be freezing by the morning if you sleep on one of these.” It was just science, hard-earned island skills or no. He couldn’t stop a metal table from leeching the heat from his body.

“Then what do you suggest?” He asked, his arms lifting and falling.

She was stumped for a moment. They only had the one medical cot — really, they ought to think about investing in another one in case more than one of them was injured. But for now… “We’ll have to share.”

“You and me?” He asked. It didn’t sound disgusted, at least, just uncertain. “We might break it.”

Laurel shook her head. “These things have weight capacities of 500, 600 pounds usually. We’ll be fine.”

“Will we fit?” He asked next.

“I think we can make it work.” She motioned with her arm for him to follow her down to the cot. Laurel pulled the blankets back, then gestured for him to get on.”

“Ladies first?”

“Ollie, it’s gonna be way easier for me to try fitting around you than vice versa.”

“Fair enough.” He hesitated, then bent down to unlace his boots, climbing in and shifting as far to the other side as possible, his back to the railing.

Laurel kicked off her own boots, then climbed in as well. It was a little awkward, and she teetered on her knees for a moment.

His hands reached out to hold her hips and steady her, and Laurel sucked in a breath. “Thanks,” she managed.

“No problem.”

Laurel shifted so that she was lying down. They were a little bulky up top, so she unzipped her coat and shrugged it off, laying it on top of the blanket. Oliver did likewise. Then she drew the blanket up and settled down on her side, her back to Oliver’s chest.

How many times had they laid like this? Well, not really like this. Laurel had never done everything she could to remain as far forward as possible so that they were just barely touching; Oliver had never held his arms ramrod straight at his sides in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

Laurel thought for a moment, then looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Ollie?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas, okay?”

She thought she could just make out the curve of his smile in the dark. His left arm shifted off his leg to brush against her back as he moved it to curl over his chest. “Merry Christmas, Laurel.”

She smiled back and faced forward again, letting her eyes close. It was strange, knowing they were in a bed together again after how many years, but comforting. Familiar. Safe. So her breathing evened out, and she drifted off to sleep.

---

Oliver had been cold, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it. That much was obvious when he awoke to find he had wrapped himself around every bit of Laurel he could possibly reach like an amorphous heat-seeking amoeba.

Or maybe it was just her.

He’d missed this feeling. Her slow, even breathing, the smell of her hair where his nose was pressed into her neck, the curves of her body only accentuated with the muscle tone she’d developed in the years since they’d last been this close. A voice in the back of his head that had grown louder and louder over the last several months couldn’t help asking why he’d ever let the distance come between them, how he couldn’t have realized the good thing they’d had.

One of her legs had snuck between his, and her right hand resting on his thigh. At least this hadn’t just been his doing. Beyond their tangled pile of limbs and blankets, Oliver could tell the base was just as frigid as it had been growing the previous night, but he could scarcely recall feeling warmer than now.

There was a low hum, and then the lights and computers kicked back on at full brightness. Laurel startled, groaned, then turned roughly in his embrace to bury her head into his chest. He couldn’t quite stop a fond chuckle from escaping, even though he knew making her aware of their current situation was perhaps not the best idea.

Sure enough, she froze before slowly lifting her head. Her hair was half-falling in her face, and he couldn’t think of anything for a moment except how adorable that was.

“Um… morning.”

“Morning,” he greeted back. “Christmas morning, actually.”

“Right.” Laurel looked back, one of her hands bracing against his chest for a moment. “I guess we’re free, huh?”

“Most likely.”

Neither of them moved for a moment. Then, her lips pressed together and her head ducked, Laurel slowly withdrew her leg and clambered off the hospital bed. Oliver did his best not to let his face fall and rolled to the other side to get out as well.

“Sorry about, uh,” Laurel was saying, her one arm gesturing to the bed as if her words were failing her, which was a rarity. “It’s really cold down here.”

“I’ll buy you a black lace parka for next year,” he offered before he could rethink it. He was terrible at joking around, what had made him throw that out there?

Laurel scoffed, her head shaking, but her lips were undeniably drawn back in a smile. Oliver couldn’t hide a relieved and slightly proud grin at the sight, which pulled a short giggle from her as well.

It was thrilling to know that he could still be the one to bring this side out of her. It made his heart lighter in a way his favorite holiday hadn’t for a while now.

“Tell you what,” she said, slowly walking around the bed to his side. “I can’t think of anything to get you, so consider this an IOU.” Laurel rose onto her tiptoes and brushed his cheek with her lips. Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature broke out all down his arms, and every hair on his body seemed to stand up straight. “Merry Christmas, Ollie.”

He had to clear his throat for a moment to make a reliable sound. “Merry Christmas.”

Laurel smiled again, then grabbed her coat and threw it around her shoulders, striding for the elevator. She hit the button and stepped inside when the door opened.

Oliver remained where he was, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Not exactly their shared Christmas from a decade ago, but he could remember now why he enjoyed the holiday with Laurel so much.

#lauriver #lauriverholidays2020 #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing

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yminie · 5 years

Text

nine-one-one | dos | pjm (m)

pairing: Jimin x Reader genre/warnings: angst, smut (to come), fluff, oldflame!pairing, detective!jimin, firstresponder!reader, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of suicide, mentions of mental health problems, mentions of weapons, explicit language, implied stalking, brief scenes of physical assault. words: 15.3k summary: all Jimin wants is to whisk you away in an attempt to keep you safe, but how can he truly keep you safe if he doesn’t know who to protect you from?

a/n: part two is finally here!! find the first part here which I definitely reccomend reading before this part so you know whats up! :) I hope you enjoy and please send me lots of feedback and let me know how you feel :P

Before the ringing white noise in your ears manages to clear, things are already in motion so fast your vision begins to blur. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realise Jimin is trying to speak to you, his phone pressed tight to his ear as he speaks rapidly into the end while his hand on your shoulder attempts to rouse you from your frozen state of shock.

Your eyes are still stuck on the screen, unseeing as you stare to the point of your eyes burning, but the extra tears it produces are lost entirely in the wetness still pouring from the corners. Lungs burning, you gasp for air while your frame shakes with hiccuped sobs. The front of your shirt is littered with darkened drops of moisture, the tears dripping from your chin sinking into the fabric quickly.

“_____!” Jimin rips you from your reverie with strong hands grasping your shoulders, and you yelp in surprise as he spins you in place to face him, no longer looking at the computer on your desk. His eyes are wild, alarmed, and even a little scared. And the idea that something could make Jimin scared terrifies you even more. “Breathe, _____, please breathe–”

“J-Jimin–” Collapsing forward, he barely gets the chance to catch you as you sag in your chair, knees hitting the floor painfully hard before he quite gets the chance to get a solid grip. Pulling you up, Jimin holds you to his side as you bury your face in his shoulder, and you can hear him firing off orders as rapid footsteps make their way towards you.

“–and I want that fucking audio file analysed. Get on to vocal recognition. I want a list of all the tenants of her building and the three surrounding. I want their records, all their files, any information possible on that sick fuck.” His swearing cuts deep into your consciousness, and you shiver against him violently enough for his arm around your waist to tighten. “She's coming with me. Organise a squad to be at her address tomorrow at 10am sharp.”

You don’t even see where you’re going, eyelids pressed together in an attempt to slow the tears running down your cheeks, yet even with the state you’re in, you trust in Jimin’s guidance. He’s still speaking to you gently, soothingly, as he pulls you through to the elevator, and as the familiar scent of his cologne starts to fill your senses, your breaths start to come a little easier.

When he releases you it’s to brace you against the rail inside the elevator, but his hold on your waist doesn’t falter even as he shuffles back to choose which floor he wishes to take you. But you don’t bother looking, busy doing your best to calm yourself as your head rests back on the cold metal of the wall behind you. The chill is helping you to focus less on the sound of the killers voice echoing around within your head, and you seek the cold even more, turning to press your wet cheek to the surface.

“Hey, you’re okay.” Jimin notices the shiver you don’t and he quickly returns to your side, hand stroking along the curve of your back slowly as he leans over to look into your eyes. “I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, yeah?”

“H-He knows, Jimin. He knows where I live–” Jimin shushes you as your emotions start to escalate, and you’re cut off by your own gasp for air, missing the ding and whirr as the elevator stops and the doors glide open.

“I know, _____. I know you’re scared. But I mean it, he’s not getting anywhere near you.” Jimin’s eyes are intent on you, and if you looked hard enough you’d probably be able to see your own reflection in them. He waits, regardless of the way the doors start to glide closed, until you’re completely ready to move. Only then does he guide you with a warm hand between your shoulder blades out of the elevator, and straight towards his car through the parking lot.

__________

A sense of nostalgia fills you when Jimin puts the car into park in the underground of his apartment building, the familiarity and knowledge that nothing has really changed in all these years distracting you somewhat, and you’re grateful for the slight reprieve. The paint and cars have changed just a little but the building itself is exactly the same, and you can’t help glancing around as Jimin leads you up the stairs to the lobby, pausing as you both wait patiently for the elevator.

“Feel weird?” He asks, guessing exactly how you’re feeling with just a look at your face and the idea makes you smile a little, face feeling dry and stiff from the saltiness still coating it.

“A little. Not much has changed.” The strange part was knowing you’d even lived here, shared a tenancy with Jimin while you were together and had so many days and nights together in the room just a few floors up. You can only imagine how wide your eyes must be as they eagerly take everything in, and yet you somehow miss the way Jimin is watching you, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards as you glance around in wonder.

The elevator makes it to your floor, and you dutifully step in after Jimin, automatically crossing your arms and holding yourself together. Jimin had stopped touching you over time, feeling your calm no longer calls for his contact, and you immediately start to miss his warmth, even when you’d hoped you wouldn’t.

“The apartment hasn’t really changed either, maybe just less decoration.” The thought makes the both of you laugh gently, the heaviness that had sunk into your stomach starting to lighten, and you don’t doubt it for a second.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Remember when I tried to explain the point of throw pillows to you?” His laughter becomes a little louder as he recalls the conversation, and you immediately grin. “You were so confused as to why I wanted pillows we weren’t going to actually lay on.”

“I still don't think I get it!” The muscle memory takes you easily through the elevator doors once they open to down the hall, and Jimin laughs as he drags his keys from his pocket. “All I wanted was to nap on my lounge!”

“They were silk pillows Jimin. Proper silk! You drooled on one and I could never get the damn stain out!” The two of you join in laughter as Jimin unlocks the apartment, breathlessness hitting you both as you make it inside, and for a second all you can do is look around silently.

The lounge had been replaced with something a bit more chic, a plain grey futon that had a messily thrown blanket that just screamed falling asleep watching tv, and you note it was one of Jimin’s bad habits. Not to mention you would then be the one hearing him complain the next day of a sore neck, and always having to massage him until he stopped whining. Even more annoying was how cute he could be whilst doing it, and the memory brings a slight smile to your face.

“Sorry about the mess, I’ve been sleeping more than cleaning these days.” Jimin automatically moves forwards to tidy the coffee table, and you simply shake your head, watching as he scurries about and shifts things around for a minute until he’s satisfied. “Do you want something to drink? I think I have some tea in the cupboard?”

“That’d be great, actually.” You smile gratefully, though it feels a little off even to you, but even though he notices Jimin doesn’t say anything about it, only watching you for a moment before moving into the kitchen. Listening as he fills the kettle with water, you walk slowly through the apartment until you reach the floor length windows on the side, wincing as you hear something fall in the cupboard as he digs around. But your eyes never leave the skyline, the sunset turning the sky oranges and pinks as it starts to settle behind the buildings, and you let yourself get lost in the sight.

“Hey, you want peppermint or chai?” Jimin’s voice right beside you makes you jump, stumbling a step away before he drops the boxes of teabags and moves to stabilise you, and you close your eyes to pull a deep breath into your lungs. “Hey, you’re ok, I’ve got you.”

“Sorry, I–sorry.” You’re looking down at the little packets all over the floor, immediately bending to pick them up, but Jimin holds you tightly in place, refusing to let you do so, and after a few seconds of stubbornly glaring down at the mess, you finally look up at him.

“Don’t apologise. I mean it, I’m not letting anything happen to you. No matter where you are, I’m going to keep you safe. Before and after this guy is caught, yeah?” His thumbs rub warmth into the exposed skin just below the hems of your sleeves on your upper arms, and you slowly relax into his grip, walls coming down. “Have I ever let you down before?”

“No.” You speak with confidence, and you can see the way Jimin’s eyes fill with warmth at the trust in your gaze.

“Then believe me when I say I’m not going to now.” He waits for you to nod before rubbing your arms gently and bending down to collect the strewn packets, and when he straightens he wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you along into the kitchen. You let him sit you down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and watch as he picks out a large mug for you.

“Since when do you keep peppermint tea on hand?” He turns just enough to give you a playful stink eye, before relaxing his expression into a gentle smile.

“Hoseok comes around at least once a week to do casework together and it’s the only thing he drinks; he’s not really a caffeine person.” Turning, he puts the boxes in front of you and gestures between them. “Which would you like?”

You finally start to relax around an hour later, one cup of tea down and the fresh refill warm in your hands as Jimin moves gently around the apartment, taking phone calls and typing away on his laptop as you quietly watch the tv. You won’t admit it, but you really spend way more time watching him than you do the movie that’s playing.

His aura still hasn't changed even after so many years, that same warmth and comforting softness that kept you feeling relaxed and safe for so long still on him like a blanket, and you even find yourself taking comfort in the natural scent of your surroundings. The blanket he’d wrapped you tight in smelled so strongly of his cologne you don’t doubt he’d slept here multiple times the past few weeks, and the pillow you lean down to rest your head on has the same sweet scent that grips you everytime he leans in to hold you tight.

The feeling of his presence is everywhere from the clutter of case files littering each surface, to the fine layer of dust you can smell from the way he’s always forgotten that dusting is a thing. He’s so completely himself, since forever, and the thought comforts you more that any weapon or security system ever could.

“Are you enjoying the movie? You can change it if you want, it’s just what was on.” You blink two or three times before you fully come to, and when you focus once more you find yourself looking straight at Jimin himself, noting the way his cheeks are bunched and his lips are pressed together as though he’s trying not to laugh. And you soon realise it’s because of how you’d been sat, staring hard at the side of his head with your mouth fallen open in concentration.

Jaw snapping shut hard enough to trigger a sharp ache in your teeth, you flush far redder than you care to admit as you jerk your head to the side and refocus on the screen. You have absolutely no clue what’s happening in the movie, but pretending is far better than having to admit to staring at Jimin so intently. “This is fine. It’s good.”

“Okay.” He nods, a smile still pulling at his cheeks, and for a moment he just watches you, enjoying the way your face stays heated under his watchful gaze. But then he recaptures your attention with a loud yawn, arching his chest out as he stretches, and when he refocuses on you his eyes are glassy with moisture, shining like crystals. “I’m probably going to have to get ready for bed soon. Do you want to have a shower?”

“I don’t have any clothes.” Jimin hums, thinking for a second, and you watch as he jumps up enthusiastically, feet scuffling on the carpet as he makes his way across the room, and you watch as he waddles endearingly through the door to the bedroom. You listen as the rumble of the closet doors sliding open sounds, and a slight scuffle before silence, and then Jimin reappears in the doorway, holding a surprisingly familiar item of clothing.

“Here! I found this a few months back in a box in the cupboard. I just kept forgetting to give it back to you.” Your chest bubbles with warmth while your stomach breaks out in butterflies, and you accept the hoodie he hands you with a shocked smile. It’s not yours, not really, but you’d stolen it so regularly it had become an unspoken rule that while he may have bought the hoodie, it was yours far more than his.

“I thought you’d kept it when I moved out.” Your fingers are playing with the softness of the fabric, and a slightly awkward silence falls over the both of you as he watches you roll the cloth between your fingers.

“It was your favourite, I would’ve let you keep it.” You look up at him then, catching something unidentifiable in his eyes before he blinked it away, and then you’re left looking at each other as your hands fall still in your lap. All until he clears his throat gruffly and shakes himself into composure, turning on his heel. “I’ll get you a towel and some pants.”

The walk to the bathroom is plagued with silence once Jimin disappears into his office, and you find yourself gazing out the large apartment windows as you walk across the living room. Your eyes dart from each inch of darkness outside to the next, fear in that now ever-present feeling of eyes on you unshakable, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly your heart beat speeds up. As do your feet as you rush into the bathroom and close the door with a heavy sigh.

You can't help but crank up the heat, steam floating from the tiles at the bottom of the shower to make a mist above your head, and your tense muscles seemingly melt once you step inside. The water burns a little against your tender eyes and dry cheeks, but your skin quickly adjusts as you tip your head forward under the stream, allowing the downpour to drip down your cheeks and off your chin. It’s a little hard to breathe in the thickness of the foggy cubicle, but you start to feel a little lighter once the tingling of heat takes your attention.

The bodywash you find in the shower caddy is the same it’s always been, and you find yourself guilty of holding the open top to your nose just a few seconds longer than should be deemed sensible, losing yourself further in the familiarity of Jimin’s signature scent. Bergamot and pine settle deep in your senses and a blanket of calm covers you, the smell only becoming more pungent as you massage the foam into the skin of your chest and arms. Jimin had always been a symbol of security in your life; safety, love and support, and you’ve never been able to kick that little habit of finding solace in the smallest signs of his presence.

And naturally this had meant that you’d lost your way every now and then after losing that source of comfort, no longer having someone to turn to when things get a little too tough or something goes bump in the night. You’d had to grow a lot since splitting with Jimin, and though now you’d like to consider yourself to be a relatively independent woman; able to pay her own bills, cook, clean and pave her own way in the world, you couldn’t help letting yourself be little selfish when faced with what you’d thought was lost forever.

By the time you’ve used his sweet orange shampoo and conditioner, and lathered yourself until no skin was visible, the entire room is swallowed in a cloudy haze, and your skin is bright pink from the rigorousness you’d scrubbed at yourself with. Stepping from the shower to wrap yourself in a towel, you find yourself cringing at how you instantly begin to sweat from the humidity, and immediately switch on the fan above you.

As the mist clears, so does the mirror, and you finally get a proper look at yourself. Your cheeks are shiny and raw, from fingers pressed a little too hard and the heat turned up just a little too hot, and your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, a clear sign of your exhaustion. It’s not even that late, only going on around eight o’clock, but your body aches with a heaviness that feels like you haven't slept in days, and as you pull the sweatpants up your tired legs, you groan at the way your back twinges in protest.

Foregoing your underwear and bra is surprisingly comfortable under the loose clothes, though you instantly burrow yourself into the hoodie once you step from the bathroom back into reality, arms crossed over your freed breasts and fingers tucked into your armpits to escape the slight chill of Jimin’s air conditioning. It’s like a habit, the way your eyes dart over to the windows again, but your heart calms at the sight of Jimin’s blinds drawn across the glass, hiding you from the outside world.

The man himself is sat in front of the tv, eyes heavy and starting to droop as he watches the program on screen sleepily. There’s a sandwich sat untouched on the coffee table, but the sight of an empty plate beside it leads you to believe he’s already had one himself, which leaves the only assumption to be that he’d made one for you. The thought of eating suddenly has your stomach groaning, and you pat it gently as you approach the lounge, finally catching Jimin’s attention.

“Hey, give me those.” He throws the blanket you’d seen earlier to the side off his lap and immediately reaches out for the clothes you have in your hands, your outfit from earlier. After a slight hesitation you hand them to him, trying not to think about the fact your bra and panties is so clearly at the top of the pile now in his hands. “I have a load of washing ready to be done so I’ll throw them in, okay? That sandwich is for you, you need to eat before bed.”

His no-nonsense attitude is comfortingly familiar as always, and you give his back a slight smile as you watch him disappear into the laundry, picking up your plate and taking a small bite before he reappears. It’s your favourite kind, and your heart flutters at the idea he’d remembered such a minor thing, but you know it’s silly to entertain such thoughts when you know you remember his too.

The tv is the only thing filling the silence as you eat, the two of you sat quietly side by side as a movie you don't recognize plays, and quicker than you thought you could manage, the sandwich is devoured and you’re brushing crumbs off your hands. The clang of your plate being placed on top of his shatters the silence, and Jimin jerks back awake from where he’d begun to doze off to automatically take the plates to the kitchen, but you scoop them up before he can beat you with a heavy feeling of guilt settling in your gut.

Jimin had done the morning shift, no doubt started work before the sun had risen, and yet he’d still hung around until he knew you’d clock off, and now stayed up to make sure you were safe and had eaten. Guilt starts to toxify, transforming into self-contempt, and you suddenly realise how much of a burden you’re becoming on him again.

Which only gets worse when he approaches you in the kitchen where you’re rinsing the plates in the sink and chewing on your lower lip, deep in thought. “I got the bed ready for you, so you can head in whenever you’d like.”

“What?” You frown, turning to him and furrowing your brows further at the sight of him rubbing at his puffy eyes.

“The bed? I–”

“Jimin, I’m not taking the bed from you.” This time he’s the one frowning, and you hug yourself as his lips settle in a slight pout. “It’s your apartment, I can’t take your–”

“You’re not taking it, I’m giving it to you.” He sighs tiredly, and for a second his frustration is clear on his face before he rolls his shoulders with a grunt, joints clicking. “I don’t want you having a crappy nights’ sleep on the couch when I can give you the bedroom.”

“So you expect me to let you have a shitty sleep instead? Jimin you’ve been up since god knows when, I won’t just let you–” Your voice is getting higher in pitch, and you’re cut off when Jimin turns on his heel with a scoff and makes for the lounge. “–Hey!”

Petulantly, you run past him and clamber over the back of the futon, almost falling off in your daring attempt at beating him to the couch, and he stands frozen, gaping down at you from where he’s stopped mid step. You know it’s childish, but you can't help it, and when Jimin laughs incredulously and makes another move to grab you where you sit, you wrap yourself into the blanket and lie across the lounge, eyes closed.

“Are you joking?” Jimin’s voice is full of mirth, and when you peek one eye open to see him laughing silently, your own lips twist in amusement.

“Go to bed, J‘min.” Your voice is muffled by the blanket, but you know he can hear you, and through your one eye you watch as he stares down at you for a moment before shaking his head, and finally walking across the room to his bedroom, quietly muttering to himself with a smile.

In the midst of his absence, you finally notice how soft and comfortable the futon actually is, and the resistance to burrow down into the cushions and relax with your nose filled with Jimin’s scent embedded onto the blanket is futile. In fact, you relax so hard that you’re drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness faster than you’d realised was possible, and you get a small fright when something carefully rubs your shoulder.

“Hm-wha–?” Your voice cracks a little when you squint through the dimness of the room, but your body relaxes instantly when you recognize the figure standing over you, and Jimin smiles down at you gently as you finally spot the pillow and blanket in his hands.

His touch is even more gentle when he lifts under your neck to ease your head up, and you comply easily as the cool cotton of the pillowcase touches your skin. The comforter he places over you then is even nicer than the blanket he'd slipped from you, and you can instantly tell its the one off his bed. Had you been more lucid, you’d have argued against him giving you his personal bedding, but with the way your body is already sinking further into the cushions below, you can’t focus on anything further.

And just before you fully fall into unconsciousness, you feel a cool, gentle palm brush the hair off your cheek, along with the soothing timber of his voice as he mumbles to you good night.

__________

Every inch of your body is on fire as the fingers that are wrapped around your throat tighten. Every fibre of your being screaming for air as you struggle uselessly against the hold, and your fingers and toes start to tingle as your limbs go numb.

“I told you.” His voice sounds far away through the blood pumping through your ears, and as the rush of frozen air glides over your skin, you feel your body start to twitch and jerk. “You’re next. I told–I TOLD YOU.”

The sound that escapes your throat is dry and grating, and though your eyes burn you’re too numb to feel the tears pouring from them even as they drip from your chin. You gurgle and hack under his pulsating grip, and the sounds seem to make him even more enthusiastic, second hand coming up to loop his arm around your neck instead, and your heart starts to slow in your chest as his hand shifts to frame your jaw.

“_____.”

Your muscles shudder and shift, rolling across your bones as though no longer connected, ligament and tendon dissolved into your blood. And in the roaring silence, you realise you can breathe again, the hold on your throat gone, but your lungs are still empty as you whine and gasp.

“_____!”

You see him, stood in the doorway of your bedroom, faceless and shrouded in darkness, and your bones are heavy as lead, even as you try your hardest to hide under your comforter.

“P-Please, don’t!” You can feel the vibration of his footsteps as he steps closer, and your heart starts to beat in time with the thudding of your own feet as you’re suddenly running down a strangely familiar hallway. “H-Help me! Someone help!”

But no matter how hard you push your feet, the end of the hall seems to get further and further away, and the figure looming behind you gets closer…

“_____, open your eyes, sweetheart!” And closer...

“N-No!” Closer…

“Soon.”

__________

“Jimin!” The scream that rips from your throat tears a sharp aching pain down your chest, and suddenly you come to with your body drenched in sweat, face dripping with tears as you rub your sodden cheek against a firm, warm shoulder.

“I’m here, baby. I promise, I’m here.” Jimin’s scent engulfs you where your head is pressed into the curve of his neck, lean body leant half over you where you’re curled up on the futon in his apartment. And as each wave of recognition comes back to you, you sag into the security and comfort he personifies, and he merely holds you close as you sob into his skin.

“J-J’min–” Your legs tangle up in the blanket still caught around you in a small panic, and the moment you’re free from the restriction you half launch yourself into his lap, straddling the leg closest to you even as you drape sideways over his legs. And though he grunts slightly with the effort it takes to catch you, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you even closer, face pressed into your damp hair as he rocks you gently back and forth.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. You’re okay–” The tenderness with which he tightens his grip and pulls the blanket back over your shaking form sends you through another wave of tears, and he gives a deep sigh as he hushes you again. He’s always been instinctively empathetic when it came to you, and seeing you so drowned in emotion is affecting him more than he wants to let on.

And god, do you miss him. It’s so easy to forget that missing presence when you willfully ignore it’s absence, but being so close to Jimin again...it’s not hard to remember all the reasons you loved him in the first place.

His bare skin is warm against your hands where their clutching at his biceps to keep him close, and for the first time you realise he’s shirtless, face weary with exhaustion with the way he’s been pulled from sleep lord only knows how long after finally settling in for the night, and another wave of guilt envelopes you. It’s a push in what can only be the right direction though, as you quickly swallow enough air to have your breathing back to a more normal rate, and your hands roughly swipe at the moisture on your face.

“Hey,” Jimin catches your hands as they rub the skin of your cheeks raw, and you feel even more pitiful as you blink down at him through the clumping wetness of your lashes. He sighs again, eyes warm and familiar even as they echo with the pain of seeing you in such a state, and your bottom lip wobbles pitifully before you nab it between your teeth. “You’re here with me. You’re safe. Nothing can happen to you here, okay?”

“Hho-okay.” You can’t help but hiccup a little as you finally start to really settle in his arms, and Jimin stays patient through each minute it takes you to relax again. His hand shifts from yours to settle between your shoulder blades, and you’re brought back to reality by the way the inside of his sweatshirt is starting to stick to your sweaty skin underneath. It’d been a while since you’d had such a strongly upsetting nightmare like that, and your body had surely taken the brunt of the toll. “S-Sorr–”

“Don’t apologise.” Jimin’s hand on your back pulls you close again, and you don’t think twice before nestling your face into his neck again as he gently rubs up and down the length of your spine. Your legs are bent relatively uncomfortably under you, and you finally shift up to relieve his thigh from the pressure of your weight on such an awkward angle.

And now you’re fully straddling his thigh, hovering half in the air so as not to settle your backside on his knee, and although your face is starting to burn from the emotions bubbling in your stomach, Jimin’s gaze stays neutral and concerned. But you can’t help the shyness building within you at the sight of his sculpted torso laid out so clearly in front of you, while you sit perched in his lap. And as much as you wanted to reach out and touch him the way you would have in the past, the ice cold water of reality washes down your back in the form of a whisper in the back of your mind that he’s not yours to touch anymore.

Jimin doesn’t stop you as you finally slip from his lap back onto the lounge beside him, but he does stay close, sliding over until your thighs are pressed together, and his eyes stay keen and alert as he searches your expression. “I’m okay, Jimin.”

“I know.” His eyes are warmed slightly as he curls the corner of his lips up into a lopsided smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “My brave girl. You’ve always been able to overcome this.”

Your blush intensifies for reasons you’d rather not admit, a flutter in your stomach that seems to be specially reserved just for him, and you busy yourself with putting your pillow back into place from where you’d knocked it on the floor. But a gentle palm on your arm stops you, and when you look up Jimin shakes his head.

“Come to bed with me.” You stare at him, almost blankly, and your heart starts to speed up again in your chest. If Jimin recognizes how suggestive the words could be, he doesn’t let it show, choosing instead to swipe the pillow from your hands and hook the blanket over his shoulder, finally hiding some of his toned chest. It takes a few seconds for you to really respond to what he’s asking, but he doesn’t rush you, and when you finally stand he reaches out with a warm hand and laces his fingers with yours.

The steps you finally take into his bedroom is like a blast from the past, and with the way the left side of the bed is bare of pillows, you can instantly tell he still sleeps on the same side he used to. He makes his way to the bed instantly, patting your pillow into place and fluffing the comforter out until it covers the entirety of the bed, and when he turns back to you, you start to grow shy again.

You haven't shared a bed with anyone since the two of you split, and the thought of crawling back in beside him now after so long has a strange ache in your chest forming. If you were to focus on it long enough...you’d recognize it as longing.

“Don’t overthink this.” Jimin takes your stiff silence as discomfort, and he brings you back to the present once more as he slowly walks towards you. His torso is even more visible in the clearer light, warmed by the lamp lit up on his bedside table, and you almost feel the need to avert your eyes as he gets closer, regardless of having seen it all before. You think it’s in the certain way his sleep shorts hang off his hips, and the way the light bends and curves along the toned ridges of his stomach, but he in his entirety has always been a little overwhelming. He hasn’t changed in the few years you’d been apart, and almost regrettably you don’t doubt that you have.

“I-I’m not. I promise.” You nervously sweep the hair falling into your eyes back behind your ear, and his worried expression relaxes as you finally take the few steps towards the bed. He catches you before you can shift the blankets and climb onto the mattress though, a cool hand pressed to your cheek as he notices the way your baby hairs stick to the edges of your hairline.

“You’re warm. Would you rather a sleep shirt instead of the jumper?” At your nod he moves to the other side of the bed and digs through the bottom drawer of his nightstand until he produces a plain black shirt, and when you accept the fabric he holds towards you, he automatically spins on his heel and heads back out to the living area.

He’d remembered you were bare under the sweater, and you give a grateful smile to the empty room as you pull the slightly damp fabric over your head and let it fall off the edge of the bed beside you. The thin cotton of the new shirt is welcome on your humid skin, the cool freshness of the fabric soothing against the heat inside you, and by the time you’re finally slipping down under the covers, Jimin is walking back into the room and closing the door with a quiet click.

The soft padding of his feet against the carpet as he rounds the bed to his side brings contentment that only welcome company can bring, and you find yourself involuntarily nestling down into the bed even more. A gleam of metal shines in the corner of your eyes, something heavy being placed inside the top of his nightstand, and the both of you silently ignore the fact you’d just witnessed him returning his gun to it’s hiding place under a false base in the bottom of the drawer.

“Comfy?” He keeps his voice gentle, pushing the drawer closed smoothly, and you barely blink up at him before you nod your head. The last thing you see before he switches off the light is the sparkle of his eyes as he smiles down at you.

The mattress shifts slightly as he slides under the covers on his side, and the fresh scent of clean bedsheets and Jimin is a heady aroma of comfort when his movements fluff the blankets, and your eyes droop as the night starts to catch up with you once more.

Somewhere in the stillness of midnight, with your body half asleep and heavy, you manage to roll onto your side without thought and gently tuck your face between the softness of Jimin’s pillow and his shoulder. You’re too far gone to hear his soft noise of surprise, nor is it light enough in the room for you to have been able to see the gleam of his smile as he looks down at you. But one thing's for sure; when he rolls onto his own side and pulls your sleepy frame closer, pressing you into the warmth of his chest like you never left, you fall asleep faster than ever.

__________

Your rousing from sleep comes slowly, consciousness strengthening in waves as you gradually get back the movement in your body through the thick dregs of sleep that hold you tight, and once you can feel again you realise how warm your pillow is beneath your head. And only when you nuzzle down further into it and feel the slight pressure of a broad surface against your back do your eyes open to show you a long arm stretched out past your head and dangling off the edge of the bed.

A minute must pass before the night prior refreshes in your mind, and at a closer glance you recognize the rings adorning the fingers as they twitch slightly, and you already assume the sight before you when you shift and turn onto your back.

Jimin is still fast asleep where he’s been pressed against your back, shoulders and chest fluctuating with every breath as he sleeps restfully, and for a few moments you bask in the feeling of his closeness as he unconsciously uses the arm beneath your head to wrap around your back and pull you even closer. And now facing him on your right side, up close in this way you haven't been in so long, every minute detail of his features is more prominent than ever, and you simply lose yourself in his soft, relaxed expression.

You cannot pinpoint how long you stay lain against him, time ticking on without your attention, but when the pressing need for hunger becomes too hard to ignore, you find yourself struggling to climb from his embrace without rousing him. The sound of your feet against the carpet even seems too loud, and you chew on your lower lip when you freeze at a slight shift in his position, but when he gives a heavy sigh and starts to gently snore again, you continue on.

The sight of the city through the blinds when you open them just slightly is an almost dreary view, a haze of grey in the sky with only the slightest slivers of blue peeking through while a light cover of rain pitter-pats against the glass in front of you. It’s not very late in the morning, the sun not yet high enough to light up this side of the building like it had in the evening sunset last night, but the city below you waits for no one, and the bustle continues on through the early morning with cars beeping their horns and people crawling the streets.

Your stomach starts to growl as you set the coffee machine to brew, and when a quick glance into Jimin’s fridge shows nothing of much substance, you turn to the pantry instead and quickly choose a cereal before pouring two bowls. You time it well enough that you’re able to pour milk into your coffee just after your cereal, and as you settle at the counter, Jimin’s bedroom door creaks open just loud enough to catch your attention.

“Morning.” Jimin’s eyes are half open and his voice is little more than a croak, but you know your hair is just as crazy as his is.

“Hey.” He pads across the floor towards you and immediately heads to the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup quickly before settling beside you and tipping milk into his own cereal. For a few moments there’s nothing to be heard other than the scrape of cutlery on porcelain as you both eat in silence, but your mind is still racing with the events of the last twenty-four hours.

“How’d you sleep?” Jimin is far more alert when he finishes his breakfast, standing to take both your bowl and his own to the sink, and when he turns back to face you it takes you a few moments to compute that he’s really still half naked, not helped by the way he stretches his back and sweeps his fingers through his hair.

“Better. Thanks for...taking care of me. Last night.” He’s shaking his head before you finish your sentence, and you’d be rolling your eyes if you weren't being distracted by the way the muscles on his ribs curve and tense with his movements as he lifts his arms over his head to crack his back.

“Don’t need to thank me for that, _____. You know that.” He steps forward until he’s stood beside you, close enough you can feel the heat of his exposed skin, and you feel yourself swallow thickly. “I made arrangements yesterday when we got here. I hope you know I’m not taking any risks when it comes to your safety, especially not until this guy is caught.”

“What kind of arrangements?” You almost dread his answer, and you know he can tell by the way his face twists into a wistful smirk, but you maintain your worried expression. The last thing you want is for things to blow up and for word to get around in your apartment building that something is wrong. As far as you’re concerned the more low-key the better.

“Officers will be on hand around the clock–” you groan before you can help yourself, the dreaded image of personal bodyguards watching your every move becoming very real in your mind, but Jimin just rolls his eyes “–don’t start that. This is for your safety.”

“I know.” You would like to say you’re not whining, but lord knows even you can’t lie that well to yourself, and it’s making Jimin’s smile widen into a grin as he pinches your chin between thumb and forefinger.

“It’s nothing major, I promise. They’ll fit in to regular security and no one will even notice they’re there.” You slowly nodded in acquiescence, and Jimin continues to smile down at you gently. “Besides, this is the closest we’ve come to tracking this guy down, and I will stop at nothing to ensure your safety, you should know that.”

“I do.” You’re grumbling, but the pout of your lips causes his smile to widen, and he releases your chin to take a step back, oblique muscles rippling as he twists his spine with a low click.

“Yeah, I know.” You’re grumbling, but the pout of your lips causes his smile to widen, and he releases your chin to take a step back, oblique muscles rippling as he twists his spine with a low click.

"I'll go grab your clothes from the laundry, and then I've gotta head into work okay?" Jimin snags your empty bowl off the counter and spins to rinse it in the sink quickly. "The team Hoseok organised for your apartment building will be waiting for me to take you home and debrief them."

He turns back to find your lips pouting again, though more ironically this time as you try to ignore the way the hairs on your arms are starting to raise at the mere thought of going back to the apartment. Somewhere that had once felt like a safe haven, now ruined by the revelation of just how exposed your quiet little life has become.

"C'mon, pouty. Let's get ready for the day." He teases, pout of retaliation on full force enough to pull a genuine smile from you as he drags you from the counter.

__________

The next few days passes by slower than any you can remember, and as the morning blends into evening and the moon rises high into the night in a blur of shifting stars and muddy clouds, you almost lose your concept of time passing.

You've not left your apartment since Jimin brought you home, stuck in your fortress as you await the outcome of the past few days, body constantly locked tense and on alert at the mere hint of a noise outside your apartment door. And everytime your phone chimes with an alert, you're stuck dreading the idea it could be more bad news.

It's not until mid morning on the fourth day that you finally crack, the walls closing in on you the more time you spend between them, and you call it quits at the barren sight of your fridge bouncing off the back of your aching eyes. The migraine you'd woken up with intensifies as you prepare yourself to leave the apartment, only to be stopped short by a sharply dressed man holding his hand out between you and the door that exits onto the street.

"I'm sorry Miss, but I am unable to let you leave." You blink up at him, vaguely recognizing him from the group you'd been introduced to as your team of protectors, and he starts to shift awkwardly from toe to toe as your gaze unintentionally turns scathing. But you can't exactly help it, stomach growling from hunger and a painfully sharp stabbing along the base of your skull without rest. "D-Detective Park's orders, Miss."

"Well can I at least go to the corner store so I can eat something today?" He glances back awkwardly, clenching and unclenching his fingers before finally dropping his blocking limb, and when you follow his gaze its to find yet another officer dressed quite casually behind the front desk. If you hadn't been clued in, you'd almost have thought him to be an unfamiliar member of the buildings' staff.

But his stiff posture and sharp gaze being concentrated on you gives him away easily, and by the way he seems to silently warn his partner with another sharp look and an almost imperceptible shake of his head, you can only imagine what Jimin must have used as an incentive for the two to stick to their task.

The man before you turns back around, meeting your tired look with a sheepish expression, and you need not stand there any longer to know you're not getting out of the building alone today.

Rightfully, you should be happy with the knowledge that the officers entrusted with your safety are taking their jobs seriously, but with your stomach grumbling and the thought of getting some good, oily takeout into your stomach from the restaurant just down the street, your acceptance for such a thing is dwindling by the second.

And so you dig your phone from your pocket, frowning at the low battery percentage flashing up at you as you dial, and you don't miss the almost fearful look the boy twists to give the other once more, ignoring them as the line rings.

It takes until almost the final ring for Jimin to answer, a few moments of white noise and muffled speaking before the click of a door shutting silences it and then Jimin's smooth voice is floating through the receiver.

"_____? Is everything okay?" He sounds worried, and you feel a twinge at the fact you're bothering him at work, but the burning need for freedom is hotter than the self disdain you're capable of feeling in the moment.

"I can't even leave my apartment building, Jimin. Are you serious?" You turn away from the officer in front of you to face the elevators you'd just come from, stepping a few paces as though you could get out of earshot in small area enclosing the three of you, and you all ignore the young boy that sometimes works the front desk when he passes by with a glance.

"_____–" Jimin starts with a sigh, a slap in the background that gives you the intense visual of him having thrown a folder down to pinch the bridge of his nose and you frown in response. "I told you what was happening, the perp could be anywhere–"

"So what I just get to sit and be miserable in my apartment while I wait for you to track him down? That could be weeks, Jimin!" He gives another sigh and you sniff, feeling the telltale moisture triggered by your frustration starting to tickle the back of your throat. "I just want to be able to at least live my life. Otherwise, all I can do is sit around and think about him... I don't want to think about him anymore, J'min."

"I know, swee–_____. I know. But I really think this is the safest option until we can organise something better–"

"I just want to go get some groceries, Jimin! Please? Just down the street, that's it!" You sniff again, just short of stomping your feet as you start to grow more flustered, cheeks burning as you speak lowly into the receiver.

"Don't cry, please." Jimin croaks, betraying his exhaustion, and it's muffled as though he's buried his face into his hands. "I told you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and this is the best way for me to ensure that. I can have one of the boys come and bring you something to eat until we can organise a shopping day."

"J'min, please?" You sound so small, and it only makes it harder for him to say–

"I'm sorry." The gentle beep is far too sharp in Jimin's ear with the way his head is starting to ache, and he stares at the 'Call: Ended' screen until it disappears and the display goes black.

You don't offer the officers in the lobby a second glance, beelining back for the elevator with your head tilted forward far enough to hide your burning cheeks and wet eyelashes from anyone nearby. The ding echoes extra loud as the doors open upon your request, and you bury yourself in the corner with a pitiful sniffle as you complain to yourself quietly, tone akin to that of a child being refused by it's mother to buy candy.

Pushing yourself off the wall with a grunt when the elevator gets back to your floor, you almost stumble over the threshold onto the carpeted hallway. And you only grow more flustered when on approaching your door, they key to your apartment slips out of your fingers and slides precariously close to the slight gap at the very bottom.

Choking on an alarmed gasp, you immediately drop down onto one knee to retrieve it, but as you go to straighten up, there is a metallic shriek at the end of the hall that makes you freeze in fear, eyes flickering up to see the exit door leading to the stairwell. But...for some reason, it almost looks like its...propped open.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up with the instant electricity that runs across your skin, and you nearly drop your key once more as your fingers start to tremble. Staring hard, you ignore the ache in the backs of your eyes as you catch the gap between the door and the wall widen only just enough to be noticeable while you're watching, as though someone had let the door swing shut too fast and was...checking to see if you'd noticed.

But the stairwell is dark compared to the bright hallway, only ever used by maintenance workers and on the rare occasion the elevator is unavailable, and even as you stay unblinking, you cannot discern whether it's the natural shadow of the room beyond the gap...or if that's the silhouette of a person trying very hard to not be seen.

Sweat breaks out across your temples and upper lip, muscles locking up as your fight or flight instincts scream at you to run, and just as the gap wavers again, and you feel the terror start to clog up your throat, your shoulder is grabbed by a large, warm hand.

"_____–ahh!" Taehyung himself yells in shock as you slap his hand away with a horrified shriek, knocking something large and dark out of his hand and distantly hearing it hit the wall next to Taehyung's own apartment door. Holding his reddening hand to his chest, he watches you throw yourself to the side and press your back tight to the wall. And there's a few tense moments of silence as the two of you merely stay frozen, carefully watching the other.

"S-sorry." You break through the tense atmosphere quietly, relaxing slowly against the wall as Taehyung eyes you carefully for a moment before gradually crouching down a few feet from you. And you don't blame his hesitance, positive he's waiting for you to lash out and slap him again, but you merely chew on your lower lip as he frowns down at you.

"Did I give you a fright?" At your nod, he wraps his arms around his knees carefully, fully squatting down in front of you now. "I'm sorry, I was worried something was wrong, you were all hunched over staring into the corner."

"I, uh," you glance back towards the stairwell exit doorway, finding the door as it is usually - closed and flush to the frame, and instantly think better than to admit your crazy sounding reality. "I dropped my key, was just trying to spot it on the floor and got, um, distracted."

Waving said item around in the air, you quickly push yourself back up onto your feet even as your legs shake a little more than you'd like from the fear, and the added pressure of being crouched so awkwardly for longer than you'd initially thought. Taehyung stands as you do, grunting a little as one of his knees clicks quietly back into place, and before you can ask what he'd been out here for, he retrieves his lost item from the floor a few feet away.

"I was just coming over to give you this back. The roof's officially fixed now, maintenance guy just left, no more mini indoor swimming pool!" In his hands is the bucket you'd lent him almost two weeks ago, still in perfect condition, and you hope he doesn't notice the way your hand shakes as you reach out to accept it, gaze lingering on the tightly shut door at the end of the hall.

“What a shame!” Distantly, you wonder if he notices how fake your smile and laughter is.

__________

Squinting, you watch for a few seconds through the peephole as Jimin looks down at his feet, running the fingers of his right hand through the tousled strands of hair falling over his forehead while the plastic of the bag of takeaway in his hand crinkles quietly.

"Hey." He greets you quietly when you open the door, and you mumble the same back to him as he shuffles closer to the doorframe, the bag sounding again as he fidgets with the handles in his palm. "I brought your favourite."

Jimin lifts the bag up to his waist with a lopsided smile as though you hadn't already noticed it in his hand, and you let the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you step back to make space for his entry. He beelines straight for the kitchen, and the sound of your door beeping shut is loud in the quiet that sits between the two of you. The sound of plates being set onto the counter is even louder when you pull them from the cupboard, and the two of you dish up the dinner he'd brought in silence.

The tv fills the quiet as the two of you sit and start to eat, you on the lounge with your legs tucked beneath you and a pillow over your thighs balancing your plate, while Jimin settles on the floor, using the glass coffee table while the necklace he wears tinkles against the edge every now and then.

It would be a lie to say that the lack of conversation isn't at least a little bit awkward, and you're finally finished hyping yourself up to say something, apologise to Jimin, just do anything to fix the painfully tense silence, when Jimin finally speaks again.

"I'm sorry I was so inconsiderate of your boundaries. I should know better than to think you'd be comfortable being locked away like this, that wasn't respectful of your independence." You're already looking at him when he turns to meet your eyes, and your lips press together to hide the embarrassing surprised gape of your mouth.

He twists further to fully face you, pushing his empty plate away, and you drop your gaze to the scraps of food left on your own plate, pushing them around slowly with your chopsticks. You can feel your cheeks heating with an embarrassed flush as your throat closes up on the reprimand you want to give him. It's not his fault, not at all.

"I know," You jump a little in your seat at the feeling of the back of his hand brushing up against the side of your knee, and the blush intensifies. "I know I have the tendency to take things like this a little too far. But it's because I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you, when I could be there to stop it."

"J'min." You can feel the stress of the day, the week and the month amounting together as the back of your throat gets a little more tight, and the inner corners of your eyes start to feel a little more wet. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I acted like such a child this morning."

"You didn't, _____–"

"Yes, I did. And I should know better than anyone that you're just looking out for me." Jimin immediately moves up onto the lounge as your tone gets a little thinner, and you don't stop him when he moves the plate off of your lap onto the coffee table, leaving the pillow in your lap for your fingers to dig into the fraying decorations around the edges. "I was, I was really rude. I'm r-really sorry."

The sting of your teeth splitting into the chapped skin of your lower lip is the only thing holding in the sobs as your embarrassment over your earlier petulance combines with the stress and loneliness of the past few days. The saltiness of tears mixes with the iron tang of blood on your tongue as they slowly track down your cheeks and over your lips, and your frustration surmounts at the fact that you're even crying, because you're stronger than this, truly, but–

"It's so hard." Jimin is close enough for the warmth of his body to radiate onto your skin, and when you tilt your chin down to hide your blotchy, wet face he leans in a little closer to keep his eyes on your pink nose. "This position you've been forced into, it really is. And I don't blame you in the slightest for getting frustrated at me. Hell, I would be frustrated too, you know that."

His fingertips are so very warm when they graze across your damp cheek in an attempt to brush your hair back behind your ear, and you can feel a couple strands stick to the moisture before his thumb swipes them back. His hand doesn't move from there though, the digit continuing it's path across your cheekbone before landing on your right ear, and your body feels the urge to shudder when he massages the lobe gently between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.

Your neck loosens up instantly, head dropping a little into his palm as he continues the motion, and you don't fail to notice the soft smile that breaks across his cheeks, an old, gentle, familiar warmth in his eyes that you can't help but start to lose yourself in. Distantly, you notice the tears slowing until they're little more than a dryness under your eyes, which grow heavier with each circle of his thumb on your ear.

"You've been so strong, but it's okay to be a little bit scared sometimes, baby."

Seconds tick by in silence, nothing but the sound of the two of you breathing the same air as you both sit as still as can be. Your bent legs had at some point dropped to the side to rest against the thickness of Jimin's thigh and you'd relaxed far enough into the offered warmth of his embrace that your side is now pressed against him.

Slowly, desperate not break the moment, Jimin lifts his free hand to cup the other side of your jaw, and you find it a little hard to breathe as his face gets even closer to yours, the light from the lamp beside you shining on the pretty curve of his cheekbone and illuminating the deep v of his cupids bow dimpling his upper lip.

You'd spent more nights than you could remember, imagining what it would be like to press your lips to his just one more time. And to come so close in this moment, with the still very possible chance that you still wouldn't get to feel the plush softness of them again, well; if you weren't crying before, you certainly might after–

Jimin's lips brush over yours softer than a rose petal could be brushed by the wind, and your fingers instantly clutch at whatever available fabric they can grip between the buttons lining his sternum. The hand he'd been gripping the soft flesh of your earlobe with drops and catches your fingers in his as they tremble against his chest, and for a few seconds his digits merely play with yours as he waits for you to react.

You surge up against him with a muffled gasp, lips overshooting and pressing to the corner of his mouth before he tilts his head and rights you with a gentle tug against your chin. He doesn't waver, strong and balanced even as you press yourself against him, and all at once the taste of lips is turning salty again as tears start to fall uncontrollably from your eyes to wet both your cheeks and his.

He doesn't let you rush the kiss, controlling the pace with firm, guiding presses of his lips, and you fall into speed with him as he slowly tilts you back against the couch with a gentle sigh through his nose that tickles your cheek. Jimin releases your hand that he'd braced against his chest to cup the other side of your jaw once again, and when your head meets the back of the lounge finally, he lets the warm digits stroke gently down the sides of your neck until his pinky fingers rest in the divots of your collarbones.

You can't breathe, lungs malfunctioning in the ecstasy that Jimin has so effortlessly injected directly into your bloodstream, and just as you're starting to go lightheaded, there's a low buzz that vibrates dully against the underside of your legs. And for a few silent moments you ignore it, sucking on the plump flesh of Jimin's lower lip and feeling the way he instantly goes to chase your own with his teeth out of habit.

But then his hand drops to his side and jerks against his hip until the vibrating device is free of the fabric of his slacks, and he barely glances at the screen as he pulls his lips from yours with a quiet groan, forehead landing on yours gently.

You're almost embarrassed to note how heavy you're breathing, let alone how tightly your leg had slipped up around Jimin's hip in the few seconds you'd been tangled together, and when you turn your head to the side so as not to breath directly against the receiver, he presses his nose into the soft fleshy part of your cheek.

"Park, speaking." He stops breathing to swallow, holding in the panting breath he wants to take but unable to hide the powerful hammering of his heart where its pressed to yours. You can hear the faintest of conversation on the other end of the line, letting Jimin nuzzle his nose against your cheek while your lashes flutter, and he hums every now and then in agreement or to show he's listening to the person on the line. "Okay, yes. I'll be in soon."

The disappointment must be clear on your face as he hangs up the phone and sits back in his original seat once more, wide smile spreading across his face as he slips the device back in his pocket and stands.

"I've been summoned, sweetheart." He bends just far enough to catch your hand in his, tugging on the limb until you put your shaky legs beneath you and push yourself up to standing just to be close to him once again. Jimin holds your hand all the way up until he reaches the door, thumb running back and forth across your knuckles gently, and you feel your stomach flutter like butterfly wings trapped in a glass jar even as your heart aches to see him leave again so suddenly.

"I'll...I'll see you, tomorrow?" He turns to face you again, car keys tinkling in his hand as he pulls them from his pocket, and he nods gently with another smile. A few seconds pass between you, your hands still in his but the rest of your body stiff with insecurity on how to approach this situation. But Jimin beats you to the punch, leaning down and pressing his lips ever so softly against the corner of your mouth for just long enough to have you melt against him, and stumble when he finally pulls back.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he confirms, stroking from your hand up your arm and then back down again until he can tickle his fingers against the palm of your hand one last time before turning and unlocking the door. "Sleep well, sweetheart."

"I will." You call to him as he begins making his way down the hall, unable to help yourself as you lean against the doorframe in order to watch his departure. And not even the bright grin he gives you as he turns around in the elevator is enough to deter you, only the sight of the metal doors reflecting with a hazy blur finally sending you back into your apartment with a gentle sigh.

__________

The sound of crinkling plastic bags is loud when you duck your head through the back door of Jimin's car, reaching as far as you can to retrieve the groceries pushed further across the seat with a groan. But you don't get very far before the door on the other side is clicking open, the view of Jimin's shiny belt buckle burning bright in front of your eyes before he leans down himself and starts to group a bunch of bags on his hands.

He doesn't seem to notice the way your cheeks instantly began to burn, only glancing up at you when you stop moving with a curious gaze, and you quickly move to grab the rest of your things and step back out of the car before he catches on. It's a little hard to close the door with your hand, given how many bag handles you've managed to squeeze into your grip, but within seconds Jimin is by your side, pushing the door shut with his free hand before quickly snagging a few bags from yours despite your quiet refusal.

The mood during your quiet afternoon of shopping had been...good. Neither of you had mentioned the kiss last night, nor had Jimin instigated a second embrace between the two of you, and it had come to the point of you wondering whether it was ever going to be acknowledged.

When thinking back on it last night after he'd left, you could only truly hope that such a thing would not impact his interactions with you negatively, unable to bear the idea that he could draw back from you at such a point within which you needed his companionship and support more than ever. But as one could only expect Jimin sensed your insecurity upon arriving at your apartment that morning faster than you might've hoped, and seemed to silently reassure you with a gentle touch to your arm when helping you into his car.

And even now he's more than happy to urge you closer to his side when another tenant steps on behind the two of you in the elevator, stepping forward to press the door close button and effectively blocking the space between you and the young man with effortless ease. It's almost awkwardly silent in the metal box, the whirring of the machinery operating the contraption broken apart only by the light crinkling of the bags in your hands and the gentle tap of a foot every now and then.

You unintentionally meet the gaze of the young stranger a few times, catching his eyes as he periodically lifts his eyes from his shoes to flit between Jimin and yourself. There's something about him, the almost bright shine of his eyes contrasting strangely with his hard set jaw, and for a few beats he returns your stare, eyes dark and almost...empty, when he glances at the back of Jimin’s head.

And you know his face, you could swear it. You feel as though you've seen him somewhere before, only...younger. Maybe? His name flickers like a dying torch in your mind, sat right on the tip of your tongue as you forget general decency and hold his stare for what is quickly growing longer than what most would deem appropriate. You could swear you know it, something familiar, something easy to remember, something that quickly starts to form on your tongue as–

"J–"

Ding!

The elevator doors open, and the stranger drops your eyes to quickly rush out into the open hallway, making a beeline for the end as you blink the dryness from your eyes and watch as his retreating back is slowly covered by the silver metal of the doors once more, and you're broken from the moment completely by Jimin's arm gently nudging your own.

"You okay?" He doesn't seem to notice the way you've followed the boy with your eyes so intently, only having his attention caught by the stuttered noise you'd made as he leans over to close the doors again, and you nod distractedly. The thought from before is gone, mind empty once more without the visual of his face to look upon for familiarity, and you feel almost numb once again as the doors open on your floor and Jimin regathers the bags he'd set down and lifts them with a small grunt.

The two of you file out of the elevator in silence, footfalls echoing off the walls as you approach your apartment, and Jimin lags behind you in order to leave you space to unlock the door, and you struggle for a few moments to balance the bags in one hand. You're about to set them down with a cuss of frustration when the door of the apartment beside yours with a chime and Taehyung steps out.

You don't exactly know why you pause, perhaps just the habit of greeting him each time you pass, but you inadvertently wait for him to turn and finally notice you before you speak.

"Hey, Tae." A wide smile automatically spreads across his lips, and he steps closer to you quickly and moves to pull the shopping bags out of your hands. You fluster for a moment, holding onto the handles tightly before conceding and letting him hold them, and for a few seconds you stand there blankly before remembering yourself and turning to look back at Jimin as your hand fishes the key card out of your purse.

Dark. His eyes are glaring daggers into Taehyung even as the other boy fails to notice him right away, and the movement of your head pulls his attention just in time as Taehyung finally glances up and instantly stiffens. "Hey, how are yo–Oh."

"Hello." Jimin thankfully relaxes his face into a more neutral expression, but you know him too well to not catch the tick of his jaw and the strain in his neck as he automatically stretches his shoulders out and straightens his spine in an attempt to make himself seem bigger.

"Hi." Taehyung is no better, lifting his chin and looking down his nose to emphasise how much taller he is than Jimin. And though it's only a few inches, you can see the way Jimin's nostrils flare in retaliation, eyes flashing, and you look between the two for a few silent moments with your hand hovering in mid air.

"Uh..." The two take absolutely no notice of your head turning back and forth to look between them and you finally end up swiping your key card with a sigh, letting the chime of your security system break the tension. One last glance back as you cross the threshold into your apartment at the two has you watching the standoff as they vie for the position of last to enter the apartment, and you roll your eyes as neither of them move an inch.

Something seems to finally break the air, perhaps the silent, worried frustration rolling off you in waves, and Taehyung turns to return your gaze as he comes to his senses and steps into your apartment. Jimin watches him carefully as he crosses the room and sets your groceries onto the kitchen island, following him inside a few seconds later with his gaze hard and calculating.

"So..." You can't seem to think of anything to say, standing stiffly at your kitchen counter as Taehyung and Jimin continue to glance at each other in tandem, and after watching them awkwardly, you grasp at frayed strings in an attempt to break the heavy mood settling over your apartment.

You've dealt with enough drama lately, and you'd really rather not have this add onto your ever growing mountain of stress.

"What are you getting up to today?" Taehyung turns to look at you, blinking slowly as he doesn't seem to fully realise you're talking to him, before jerking slightly and stammering for a response.

"Uh, just about to head off to work, actually." You then realise the uniform shirt under his dark suede jacket, and as you nod with a quiet 'ah' of realisation, his eyes flicker between you and Jimin once more. "What have...you guys been up to. You're not at work like normal?"

"Oh, I've...had a few days off, ha. Just been...relaxing, and stuff." Taehyung's eyebrows almost disappear under the hair covering his forehead, and you barely seem to hide your cringe as he chuckles in surprise.

"You've got to be one of the most consistently working people I've ever met. Never heard of you taking time off work before." He chances a glance at Jimin, and you follow him to see Jimin still standing stoic at the end of the breakfast bar, only looking back at your neighbour when he speaks again. "Is everything...okay? I know sometimes you've mentioned things getting a bit too rough, has that happened again? Are you having those nightmares again?"

"Oh, I–" You look back at Jimin in shock at Taehyung's words, surprised at the fact he'd remembered something you'd only have mentioned in passing, and you chew on your lower lip as Jimin's chin drops to have him aggressively shoot laser beams at the bag in front of him, jaw clenched. "No. No, I've been okay."

"Are you sure? You've been really quiet the past few days, and don't think I don't notice the bags under your eyes. You really do look tired, _____." He frowns, head tilting to the side as he leans slightly towards you over the breakfast bar, and though he's a good almost two metres away, it's habit that has you leaning away a little. "Does the fact you're not going to work have anything to do with the undercover police your friend here has downstairs?"

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. "Taehyung–"

"That's a matter well out of your jurisdiction." Jimin's tone almost has shivers running up your spine. It's a bass monotone that slides over your skin like thorns on a flowerless rose bush, prickling at every pore until your flesh is crawling with invisible bugs, regardless of the fact you're not technically on the receiving end. "I can assure you, this matter is of no importance to the likes of you."

Taehyung's own eyes flare with a spark that you've never seen before, and to watch as the usually brightly smiling boy's gaze turns into that akin of a snake preparing to strike, your body starts to grow cold.

"I live in this building too." He looks down his nose at Jimin again, and you can see Jimin's fist ball up under the cover of the counter where Taehyung cannot see. "I don't think it is up to you to decide what is, and what is not my business in regards to my home, and my friend."

"I–" The two boys blatantly ignore you, and you step forward slightly.

"I have a badge in my pocket that I'm fairly sure gives me every right to deem what is and isn't your business in regards to events that involve law enforcement." Jimin's had shifts to touch said pocket gently, and it's then you notice the holster on his hip and the shining handcuffs tucked in beside his firearm. "And if you forget that I'm happy to remind you."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." Your eyes flicker back to watch Taehyung as he leans back again, crossing his arms and pushing his shoulders back to emphasise how broad he is, and for a few short moments you half expect the two men to rip off their shirts and start wrestling like a pair of gorillas. "I've heard enough about you to know how important your badge is–"

"Okay!" You finally crack, no longer comfortable being a bystander in your own kitchen as the two become more intent on working the other up, and then they finally turn to look at you. Their eyes are still echoing the thunderous moods lying within, and you feel unsteady on your feet as you attempt to find a common ground in order to alleviate the situation. Or rather, a common ground between the two men who seem to be waiting for your decision on who should stay and who should go.

Jimin watches you carefully, eyes flickering between you and the other male as the heat within his eyes starts to diminish and an almost worried, apologetic expression starts to form on his face. And though you know there is every reason to be just as frustrated at his attitude as you are at Taehyungs, the idea of watching him walk out of your apartment has you aching in your chest. "I think it's time I unpack this food and Tae...I'd hate for you to be late to work, I think you should...go."

He blinks at you for a few seconds, eyes growing cold as he almost waits for you to turn and address the male opposite him, but at the following silence he seems to understand Jimin is the one you're inviting to stay, and his crooked smile turns bittersweet.

"You're right, I should go." Your teeth find your bottom lip as he trades one ore glare with Jimin before quickly turning on his heel and marching towards your door faster than you can catch up with, and you find you almost have to jog to beat the door clicking shut again as he slips through it smoothly.

"H-Have a good night at work-–oh!" You call to him as you catch the door and peek out of the gap, almost jerking back with a gasp as you come face to face with him quite suddenly. He's come to a short stop just outside the threshold of your apartment, and you're only centimetres from having run into him.

Silently, he turns and looks down at you, eyes wistful as he glances back behind you into your apartment and then back again, and the tension that lingers cold in the air is a clear sign Jimin is unmoving, watching the two of you very closely. Wordlessly, Taehyung lifts a hand into the air, letting it hover between you as he seems to consider very carefully his own actions, before dropping it back to his side with a sigh, and you feel your brows draw together in a frown, heart strings tugging at the sadness in his eyes.

You never meant for this to happen, never wanted to be put into this situation where you'd have to choose between them s irrevocably. But the world has a very cruel way of bringing you back down to earth right when you think you're getting lucky.

"See you around, _____." He takes a step, just out of Jimin's line of sight, but keeps his eyes on you for another painful moment. But then he's turning again, and before you know it he's down the hall and disappearing into the elevator, gone in mere seconds.

When you finally close the door and turn back to face Jimin, he's already rustling amongst the various bags covering the counter, pulling the items free and placing them neatly on the bench for you to sort and put away, and you almost feel numb as you cross the space between you and start to gather the cold foods into your hands. A few minutes pass this way, you sorting the foodstuffs between the fridge and the pantry, walking back and forth the space as Jimin finishes emptying bags, and when he's finally done he leans against the counter with a sigh and turns to watch you.

"I'm sorry." You blink at him in surprise, almost dropping the packet of sugar in your hands as you watch him frown down at his feet before pushing off the counter to approach you. "That was unnecessary and...immature. There was no reason to treat your friend that way."

"Jimin..." You sigh, lifting the packet up and putting it on one of the higher shelves before letting the pantry door close with a muted thud. "It doesn't matter now. Besides..." you turn to him, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the wood, "you didn't do it on your own."

He's quiet for a few moments, watching you as you frown a little harder with your eyes on the front door before you finally look at him. And when he speaks again his tone is a lot lower, an unspoken emotion that you can't quite pick colouring it in a way that makes him sounds almost a little sad. "He likes you."

"Does he?" There's no real question in your voice, far closer to a statement, and it makes Jimin wince.

"It's selfish of me to act upon jealousy that I have no right to exercise." You feel a twinge of heartache at his words, unsure of what exactly he's trying to imply, and you can feel it reflected in your expression. "He could make you happy."

"Jimin–" You're reaching out to him, hand catching his as you step into his space, chest tight with the need to hold him, reassure him and keep him close.

But you don't get close enough before he jerks back and pulls away from you, hand torn from yours as he turns to seek the phone on the counter that has started to ring obnoxiously loud, and he answers the call with a few taps on the screen, background noise filling the air as he switches it to loudspeaker.

"This is Park."

"Jimin." You've come to recognise the sound of Detective Jung's voice easily, and the breathless way he calls his name instantly has you on edge. "There's been another find. Two this time, fucked up real bad compared to the others. But the sick fuck seems to be getting sloppy, there's a bit more cctv in this building and the surrounds. I'm organising that to be reviewed for any clues now."

"You're on loudspeaker. Where?" Jimin doesn't look at you as you instantly draw closer, furrowed eyes set on his phone as he picks up the device and awaits his partners information, but he does lift on hand to place on your arm, keeping you at a distance as well as maintaining gentle contact in order to keep you calm.

"Three blocks out." Three blocks? From where? Your blood runs cold through your veins, and you stiffen instantly.

You open your mouth to question him, but Jimin beats you to the punch, fingers twitching on your arm as he fights the urge to pull you closer at your physical shudder of fear.

"You're on scene?" His jaw ticks as he pats his pockets, checking his belongings, and you start to grow nervous at the realisation he's preparing to leave you already upon his partners affirmation. "I can be there in five."

"That's not all." Your eyes are wide as you set them back on the phone, and Jimin freezes in place as he awaits the next few words just as tensely as you. "He's left us a message this time. Real loud and clear."

"What is it?" You speak up this time, and it takes Hoseok a few seconds to reply, more than likely unsure if he should respond to you, but when Jimin calls his name as consent for him to tell you, he gives a sigh that comes through painfully loud in the speaker.

"Blood. On the walls. Says..." He pauses, a rustle and a few footsteps breaking the silence as he seems to move about before coming to a pause. "Says, you're next, 'Min. He wants you to leave her alone, or he'll 'take matters into his own hands'."

"Not if I take them into my own first." Jimin quickly turns furious, eyes alight with it when he sets them on you, and within seconds he's ripped the phone off the counter and pulled it up to his ear. "See you in five."

"J'min–" He hangs up the call and quickly pulls you close, no sign of his earlier guilt over his selfishness as he takes a hold of your face and presses his lips tightly to yours.

You don't realise how quickly you're breathing, gasping in panic as the familiar terror starts to set in again, but your lungs quickly start to burn as he takes away your source of air with a searing kiss. He doesn't move his lips, doesn't try to deepen it nor does he let you do so. Jimin merely holds his plush lips to yours until you're both red in the cheeks and gasping for air when he pulls away, and he rests his forehead against yours while you clutch at his shoulders to keep him close.

"Nothing he will ever do or say will keep me away from you, do you understand me?" You're blubbering, eyes starting to bud with moisture and throat thick with emotion as you let your eyes fall closed. "I don't care what length's he goes to. He's never going to keep you away from me, baby."

"You're gonna g-get hurt, J'min." You're sagging against him, body weight pulling him down as you try to keep him close just a little longer, but as you grow a little too weak in the knees, he reaches down and hooks an arm under your legs, pulling you up and into his arms before crossing the room and setting you down on the lounge gently. "P-Please, I don't–I can't let you get hurt because of me."

"Don't you dare ask that of me." He cups your face with both hands as you try to turn and bury your wet cheeks into the pillow beside you, and you blink up at him slowly, vision still blurry with tears regardless of how much are falling from your chin. "Don't you dare."

It's your forehead his lips find this time, brushing against the skin before pressing once, twice, three times, and then he rests his head onto yours and holds you tight as you shake against him.

"I have to go." The pain is clear in his eyes as your sobs grow even louder, echoing in the silence of your apartment without the tv or pillow to muffle it, but you know that he's right. And so you pull yourself together a little, dialling your cries down into sniffles as he caresses your cheeks one last time before standing from the couch and leaning down one last time to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'll come back in a few hours okay? I'll come back to you baby, it'll all be okay."

At your nod, he finally makes his way from your apartment, sadness in his gaze as he looks over your puffy eyes and pink cheeks one last time before disappearing through the door with the chime of the security system activating. And you find yourself so numb with the fear that you could truly never see him again, that you're unable to move from the spot you've curled up in, and within the hour your fear has drained you of all energy, and your eyes grow too heavy to keep open as the sun quickly sets.

You awaken with a jerk however, into the pitch black darkness of your apartment. The blinds had still been closed that afternoon, stopping the beaming bright afternoon sun, and leaving your living room darker than midnight as the lights of the city were completely blocked out. It takes you a few seconds to realise what it was that had ripped you from sleep, the silence keeping you confused as you numbly wonder if you'd been having a nightmare, but then you hear it again, the chime of your front door as the wood clicks closed, and your security system re-activates.

Warm grows in your chest at Jimin's return, and you stretch out your legs from where they'd been tucked up close to your body as you await the call of your name or perhaps the familiar clicking of his shoes as he crosses your entryway to return to where he'd left you.

But like the night shadows drown the sun's light, the warmth quickly freezes over into chilling terror as a dark silhouette moves across the room silently, not a sound following his gentle footsteps as he passes you between you and the only light in the room. The blue glow of the charger dock sitting on the table against the far wall casting an eerie glow over his form, and just as terrifyingly outlining the fact that his height is a good head taller, and his shoulders are a decent few inches wider than they should be.

And as he makes his way far to confidently towards the hallway leading to your room, and that eerie blue light glints off a large silver shape in his hand, you come to the tearful conclusion that you're right.

Jimin did not just enter your apartment.

And you have no idea who did.

#jiimin fanfiction #jimin smut #jimin fic #jimin imagine #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagine #sorry it was a little late lol it wouldn't load the image properly TT #let me know what you'd think!!#<3 #thank you for being so patient #:))))

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

Text

For Your Entertainment

My weekly fic update! I hope this reads well enough. I’ve never juggled this many, um, moving parts before, so hopefully, it reads well. Had this one marked down since I discovered Solomon had a pact with Barbatos as well as Asmodeus (somehow missed the former for a long while). The dots connected themselves from there.

It is of course n/s/f/w, so it’s under the cut! (As usual, you can find the link to the AO3 version of this in the Masterlist Section of my blog.)

For Your Entertainment

(F!Reader x Solomon/Asmodeus/Barbatos)

(Slight Solomon/Asmodeus)

As was the case many evenings, you lay stretched out beneath Solomon in the nude, your clothes scattered beside his bed. Solomon, on the other hand, was almost completely clothed, only lacking his shimmering cape, clad in his casual clothes. But you were used to him enjoying unfair advantages over you, even when it was just states of undress. He enjoyed it more that way. He liked to torment and tease you, drinking in your bare skin while you begged for him. Only once he had you worked up thoroughly, whining pitifully for him, did he shuck off his clothes and answer your pleas.

His hands pinned your wrists above your head easily, his lips meeting yours with a languid passion that turned you into putty without much effort. He ground his hips slowly, agonizingly so, against yours, teasing you with the hardness you yearned to touch and taste. When he stopped, you made a small noise of protest in your throat, looking hazily into his eyes as he pulled away. “Are you ready for that surprise I told you about? I promise you’ll like it,” He asked, his lips brushing yours again fleetingly.

“Only if it means you’ll stop teasing me so much.”

Solomon chuckled at your remark, smiling knowingly. “First, close your eyes and cover your ears,” he instructed, “and wait until I come back.”

Confusion twisted your face, but you nodded and did as you were told while Solomon let your wrists slip free and he moved off of your body. It wasn’t worth questioning him when he was in such a mood - it never got you anywhere, after all. Your eyes slid shut and you clapped your palms over your ears, blocking out sight and sound. Even if your lips didn’t give way to your questions, your mind raced in pursuit of what his surprise could be.

Confident you had done as instructed, Solomon stood beside the bed, murmuring some incantations quietly and focusing on a pair of the many pact circles hidden all over his skin. He had let you see them many times before, each time amused by the expression they drew over your face. It was a pleasant feeling to see the curiosity and awe - and something more - so clearly in response to his accomplishments.

The surrounding air buzzed with energy, peaking with a final burst before two demons appeared in a muted flash. Both wore expressions or arch-browed surprise, though one much more subtle than the other, possibly even feigned. For a moment, both were quiet, taking in their surroundings.

Barbatos, standing straight and poised, shook off his muted look of surprise quickly, replaced by a more typical look of pleasant, knowing calm. His cool green eyes swiftly noted where he was. As for the why? His eyes paused for an instant on your bare form stretched across the bed not far beyond and he knew suddenly all he needed to.

Asmodeus was far more excitable, pale eyes shimmering with amusement and excitement at receiving the attention he always craved, even on such short notice. There was rarely a time the Avatar of Lust wasn’t happy to answer Solomon’s call, and that night was no exception. When his playful gaze fell on your body, a wider smile pulled at his lips, a flash of perfect teeth peeking out.

“Ooh, what is this, Solomon?” Asmodeus’ tone came out, hushed but laced with excitement.

“You’ve summoned us for the arrangement we discussed not long ago, am I correct?” Barbatos chimed in, a single brow rising gracefully.

“Well, I did say it would be soon,” Solomon answered, in a tone without apology. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”

“Not at all~” Came Asmodeus’ gleeful answer.

Barbatos was silent for a time, lips barely pursed in a thin line. “Fortunately, no, but I can’t stay for too long.” His eyes flicked back to the bed. “But I have the time for now.”

Solomon grinned back at the pair of demons in satisfaction. “We shouldn’t waste too much time then.”

Asmodeus’ nodded his agreement. “I’m not complaining… but do they know we’re here?” He asked, the sly look in his eyes implying he already knew the answer.

Solomon laughed softly. “I thought a surprise would be more fun,” he said, turning and walking back toward the edge of the bed where you lay.

“I love the way you think,” the Avatar of Lust purred.

Barbatos remained quiet, save for a soft hum of thought.

Your forehead scrunched when you noted what sounded like muffled talking not far away. Had someone come to the bedroom door and you hadn’t realized? Or was Solomon talking to himself? Practicing some kind of spell as part of his surprise? Were you just imagining things?

“Solomon? Are you talking to yourself or am I going crazy?” You called, your volume louder than intended with your ears covered.

He bent down beside you, pulling your hands gently from your ears and leaning in to place his lips beside one. “Your surprise is ready. Sit up,” he began, helping to shift you into a seated position, hands lying in your lap. “Now open your eyes.” His cheerful smile was stuck to his face, intently watching your face.

You did as he said, slowly peeking between your lids before fully opening your eyes. When your focus cleared, your heart nearly jumped out of your throat, drumming wildly as a heated flush overtook your face. You fumbled for the bedsheets, jerking them up in front of your naked body. “Solomon, why didn’t you tell me to get dressed!?” You hissed, not daring to look anywhere else but directly at him. You should have been angrier, but you were more mortified.

Solomon just laughed off your reprimand, placing a hand across your cheek and admiring the embarrassed look on your face. “Because they’re your surprise.”

Your brain seemed to short-circuit at that moment. “Oh..” you sputtered quietly, trailing off before “Oh.” The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and your face burned more, warmth trickling down your neck and chest.

“No need to be shy, dear,” Asmodeus piped up in a warm, cheery tone. He appeared as amused by your embarrassment as Solomon was.

“Perhaps you should have given them some warning, after all,” Barbatos mused. His words implied concern, but the way the hard line of his lips had quirked upward belied his enjoyment.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, is it? Do you want them to leave?” Solomon asked.

“I, uh, no, no, I’m fine. I was just, well, surprised, that’s all,” you admitted sheepishly, your grip on the sheet relaxing.

“Where were we then? Oh, right.” Solomon cut himself off, covering your lips with his and prying the sheet from your loose grip.

Despite the spike of shock that had made you tense, you quickly melted back into Solomon and your eyes drifted closed as he finally tossed the sheet covering you away and coaxed you to to your feet. You let him lead you towards the other two. When Solomon broke away from you and your eyes opened, you were standing between the three men.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart skipped a beat, nervousness rising. There was something so stunning about having the attention of multiple partners. Partners who, between them, surely had thousands of years of experience. Having them focused purely on you was rather intimidating, but beyond that, very arousing.

A hum of energy made the air shift and shudder and after a second you stared at the demon forms of Barbatos and Asmodeus, a reminder of who you were dealing with. Asmodeus was the first to step closer after Solomon moved away, his tone soothing and seductive. “We’ll take good care of you, darling,” he reassured you, the tips of his manicured nails trailing over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His fingers fled lower, tracing your collarbone, and he dipped his head. Stray strands of his brown hair tickled your neck as he pressed his lips there, soft and insistent, and you made a small noise like a sigh. Here and there came the gentle prick of teeth and a light scrape when the tips of his horns touched your skin. Your eyes flickered closed, the sensual touch of Asmodeus’ lips and hands soothing the tension in your frame.

You nearly jumped when a second set of hands joined Asmodeus’ from the opposite side. Your eyes snapped open again at the smooth, silken texture of gloves on your skin, finding yourself staring into pools of tranquil green. Barbatos had never been easy to read and now was no different. His overwhelming demeanor was calm, though hints here and there of deeper feelings shone through. The gentle curve of the corners of his lips remained and something fleeting and impish swirled in his gaze.

Distracted by Asmodeus’ touch, it occurred that you had never seen Barbatos up quite so close and the sight was dazzling. You had little time to dwell on the rare sight, though, before Barbatos closed the remaining distance, one hand stroking purposefully over your jaw. His lips sealed over yours, a kiss that was familiarly dominant and firm, as you were used to with Solomon. Though unlike the sorcerer’s kiss, Barbatos’ gave off an almost tangible sense of control, luring you to follow his lead.

You relaxed into the kiss, letting Barbatos pull at your bottom lip and worry it between his teeth. As he drew his tongue along the seam of your lips, Asmodeus strove to win back some of your attention, engulfing one of your nipples with his mouth and roughly pinching the other between his fingers. Barbatos swallowed the surprised yelp, his tongue snaking into your mouth and tangling with your own.

A third pair of hands settled on your skin, coupled with the hard, warm press of Solomon’s body against your backside, finally stripped to nothing. One of his hands stole a breast from Asmodeus, kneading the soft mound in his hand, while the other rested on the curve of your hip. After a while, you had trouble distinguishing between Solomon and Asmodeus’ hands, though Barbatos’ were hard to mistake due to his gloves.

When Barbatos pulled away from you, your eyes opened in time to catch Asmodeus thread a hand in Solomon’s hair and kiss him fervently. Catching your glance, Asmodeus grinned coy but sweet when he parted from Solomon’s lips. Solomon’s smile was much more mischievous.

Barbatos stepped away, dextrous fingers working at his clothes. In the meantime, Asmodeus and Solomon swapped places, and then Solomon was kissing you. On his lips, you tasted something thick and cloying you could only assume was from Asmodeus, though it only added to the allure of the kiss. Asmodeus’ hands swept up and down your body, over the swell of your chest and down your stomach to briefly tease the vee of your thighs, then slipping away. Each time his fingers inched towards your folds, your breath hitched in your throat, distracting you from your kiss for an instant.

Finished undressing, Barbatos returned to your side and it was Asmodeus’ turn to get rid of his clothes. Finding you entangled in Solomon’s lips, Barbatos turned his focus to your throat and breasts left suddenly neglected. When his hands palmed your breasts, you realized the soft touch of his gloves had disappeared with the rest of his clothes. A feeling just as cool and smooth ghosted over your hips and thighs. It flickered over your skin gingerly, like the tongue of a snake and a quick peek down revealed it was the two-toned length of Barbatos’ tail. It took up the torment Asmodeus had abandoned, the twin tips lightly tracing your thighs and the line of your increasingly more damp cunt.

When Asmodeus came back and the hands and bodies of all three men were upon you, you worried you might well combust from the swell of heat in your gut. Your pussy felt so wet you didn’t know how you weren’t dripping down your thighs - though you were sure the tips of Barbatos’ tail were coated in your essence. Between them, the trio left hardly any sensitive part of your skin untouched. Your lips, throat, breasts, stomach, thighs, ass, and cunt - there was some hungry, sensual touch on every part of you.

The stiff, eager press of their cocks against sent a bolt of excitement through you, like lightning through your veins. Each one was eager for some kind of attention, whether the warm touch of your tongue, your fingertips, or the wet, tight embrace of your pussy, With eyes closed, the kissing passing between the three men, you weren’t even positive anymore who was where. All you knew was that you were in the storm's eye and it turned you on more than you thought possible.

When you thought you might shout and beg from the mounting need in your core, your lips were freed and a set of hands and lips slowed. “Hm, I’ve got an idea I think we can all enjoy,” Asmodeus purred, low and excited. He made his way towards the bed, lying down near the foot of it and sprawling out along the sheets. “Come here, dear,” he instructed, beckoning you with a crook of his finger.

Too worked up to question what Asmodeus had in mind - or wait for the input of your other partners - you heeded his command with no hesitation, stopping beside the bed.

“Good,” Asmodeus praised. “Now come up here,” he continued, gently tugging on your arm, one hand on your hip.

You obeyed, letting him push and pull and direct you until you were poised on your hands and knees above him, facing the end of the bed, your sopping cunt hanging enticingly above him. You tried not to linger too long on the tantalizing sight of Asmodeus’ prominent erection below you, turning to the others with half-lidded eyes.

“I think I know what you have in mind,” Solomon said, climbing onto the bed.

His knees dug into the sheets, just beside Asmodeus’ head, adding the length of his stiff, wanting cock to the Avatar of Lust’s already delectable view. Solomon set his hands on your hips, stroking them along your curves and massaging your skin, making you shudder. From beneath you, Asmodeus let out a hum of delight, throaty and carnal. Peeking downward, you noticed his tongue dart out and wet his lips hungrily.

Barbatos joined the three of you on the bed, too, but on the opposite end, his knees caging in Asmodeus’ legs. As Barbatos settled into place, his cock waiting impatiently before you, you imitated Asmodeus’ lustful gesture, your lips suddenly dry. Barbatos splayed a hand across your head, fingers looping themselves in your hair and gently adjusting your head to line up more surely with his cock.

All the pieces were falling into place and Asmodeus’ plan became obvious. The arousal already churning your gut and making you wetter by the second surged in anticipation. The three men had riled you up so much already, but there was no limit to your desire - or theirs. The air was thick and hot and heavy around you, nearly suffocating, but in the best way. Your heart was pounding a feverish tune, blood roaring in your ears.

The three seemed to have agreed beforehand to tease and draw out your anticipation as long as possible. Despite the tip of Solomon’s cock brushing your dripping folds, he didn’t push forward, only teasing your heat. Despite Asmodeus’ fingers spreading your pussy and exposing your clit so that his breath washed hotly over it, he went no further. Despite Barbatos’ cock hanging heavily, nearly touching your lips, pre-cum beading enticingly on the tip, he only smiled down slyly at you.

That wasn’t the end of your torment either. Solomon’s hands continued to knead the soft skin of your hips, occasionally dipping underneath you to rub gingerly along the vee of your thighs. His lips touched the end of your spine and tailbone deceptively lightly, his tongue tracing the line.

Asmodeus’ other hand stroked and teased your skin, lightly dragging his nails up and down the inside of your thighs. Now and then, his fingers strayed from your skin to brush along Solomon’s length, as if he couldn’t resist taking the opportunity. The larger set of his wings curled up and inward, the soft, hooked tips caressing your skin.

Barbatos wasn’t about to be left out of your torture either. One hand lingered in your hair, massaging your scalp, the other moving down your throat and collarbone until his fingertips skimmed over your pert nipples, making your lips round in a quiet gasp. His long, sinuous tail twisted forward, the twin tips wandering back-and-forth from whichever breast his hand wasn’t tending to trail beneath your ribcage.

“Fuck, you’re all driving me crazy. Please, please,” you begged, feeling your sanity and shame wane the longer they subjected you to the blissful torment.

“Patience. You’re so eager,” Barbatos reprimanded in a calm tone, huskier than you were used to hearing as if his desire was smoldering just beneath his serene surface.

“And so greedy,” Solomon added, darkly, sounding much more noticeably aroused.

Asmodeus giggled coquettishly. “Mm, can you really blame them? I bet it’s so hard not to be. I bet you just want to scream, don’t you?”

Their banter made the ache in your core and the hot flush on your skin intensify. You made no attempt to answer Asmodeus’ question - not that you knew whether an answer was wanted at all. You were drawn too deep into the overwhelming touches dancing over your body and the pleasure they wrang from you.

Their attentions only escalated. Solomon popped the head of his cock into your slick hole, a pleased rumble in his chest. He stopped before pressing in further and the sensation was maddening. A plaintive whimper drifted from your mouth, a wordless plea for Solomon to continue. Your whimper turned to a surprised cry as Asmodeus finally teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. Barbatos took the chance to rub the tip of his cock along your lips, glossing them with pre-cum. The cycle went on, each action amplifying the intensity of the others’.

“Why don’t you tell us what you want?”. Solomon prompted.

You whined, lips fluttering as you strove for the words, brushing over the tip of Barbatos’ dick and making him groan softly. After a moment of struggle past the mental fog, you found your voice. “Touch me, fuck me, make me feel good. All of you, please.” The words burst past your lips, wild and desperate and filthy.

All the buildup had shattered what little dignity you cared to hold on to. Replaced by a torrid swirl of primal desire. It was how Solomon most liked to see you, unbound and nearly trembling with need. Nor was the effect lost on Asmodeus or Barbatos, your dirty pleas only encouraging them.

Satisfied with your surrender, Solomon pushed his hips forward and buried himself fully inside you, your cunt already tight and fluttering around him from their ruthless teasing. Asmodeus abandoned his slow, light pace, moving to drag his tongue over your clit in heavy strokes or sucking on the sensitive bud. You would have moaned and cried out, had Barbatos not stuffed your mouth full with his dick, easing it in and out in short bucks before letting it linger on the back of your tongue.

You were hardly given time to adjust to having both your cunt and your mouth filled, though the buzz of pleasure from Asmodeus tracing vigorous shapes over your clit was plenty to distract you from any discomfort. Solomon and Barbatos quickly found a tempo together. Each drew back, leaving you feeling empty and wanting, panting and gasping, only to fill you up again. You groaned loudly each time Solomon drove back inside, his cock angled just right. Each noise came out muffled by Barbatos’ dick, the vibration only adding to his pleasure.

Solomon’s bawdy grunts and moans joined yours, as did Barbatos’, soft, but low and primal. Needy, plaintive sounds escaped Asmodeus, drawing you out of your sex-induced stupor long enough to notice he could use a hand. Bracing yourself as best as possible on one hand, rocked by Solomon and Barbatos’ combined efforts, you wrapped a hand loosely around Asmodeus’ cock, pumping up and down. Immediately he gave a relieved sigh, the appreciative noises melting into muffled, airy moans of pleasure to match the others.

It wasn’t long before the room was filled with the wet slap of skin on skin and a plethora of erotic noises. Grunts, moans, breathless gasps, and keening cries, some stifled, others surely heard beyond Solomon’s door. None of you had the mind to care, too caught up in the sweltering heat of the tangle of bodies and the feverish throes of desire. The higher the buzz of pleasure and passion mounted, the higher the volume of the sultry sounds.

All focus was lost. Your hand caressing Asmodeus’ cock remained firm, though your strokes were sloppy and frantic the closer your orgasm drew. Around you, the chorus of lewd noise from the men only heightened the tension and fire in your belly. Yet none of them sounded so close as you felt, gifted with the attention of all three.

When your release washed over you like a flood, your back arched and your toes curled, a half-shout quickly muted by Barbatos’ unrelenting pace, nearly gagging you on his cock. The pitch of your partly choked cries fueled their ardor, none of their paces letting up. Asmodeus continued to suckle and lick at your clit as if a man starved, interspersed with wanton moans, some loud and clear, some stifled by your skin.

With your cunt tightening urgently around his cock like a warm, welcoming vice, Solomon was hard-pressed to hold out much longer. Enveloped by your embrace, tight, soft, and wet, Solomon felt the telltale tension in his groin coming to a peak of its own, and he swore loudly, bent against your skin. His tempo broke, hips stuttering against your backside as he fought not to cum just yet.

Asmodeus thwarted his attempt to hold back. The indecisive hand wandering between your skin and Solomon’s moved to focus solely on the sorcerer, fondling and massaging his balls and the base of his cock each time Solomon withdrew. Between the frantic squeeze of your pussy and the added attention from Asmodeus’ experienced touch, Solomon couldn’t hold on any longer. His thrusts faltered to a few hard bucks against your hips, filling your cunt in several hot jets of cum before pulling out and reclining back against the bed.

Asmodeus was next to climax, but not before attacking your clit with renewed vigor, intent on hearing more of the sweets sounds your orgasm had worked from you. Before you knew it, you were cumming all over again, your cries even more debauched and loud, despite your full mouth. The sweet, stifled tones of your voice were the last little push Asmodeus needed before he was cumming as well in thick spurts, spattering your chest with his load. His passion-laced voice nearly pitched higher and louder than your own until finally dying away into labored pants.

That left Barbatos, bucking into the inviting warmth of your mouth and throat. His tail never stilled, flitting between teasing strokes and hard flicks and whips against your back and breasts. But he was close at last, too, the stimulation from all your cries and the slick attention of your tongue on his cock urging him to finish.

You felt exhausted as you settled the hand you had tended Asmodeus with back on the sheets, your arms and legs shaking. Your cunt ached from Solomon’s thorough fucking, though it throbbed with arousal despite it. You were well aware of the hot, sticky feeling of Solomon’s cum dripping down your thighs and Asmodeus’ clinging to your skin. But even as tired as you felt, you couldn’t give up yet.

When Barbatos came, he drew back, only a few drops of cum landing on your tongue. You closed your eyes, lips parted as Barbatos painted your face with his release. When he was finished, you ran your tongue along your cum-slicked lips, relishing the taste of the bitter, salty fluid.

As Barbatos sat back on his knees, the room fell into silence aside from labored breathing. Asmodeus surprised you, clasping your ass cheeks in his hands and urging your hips down towards his face. A shudder of overstimulation ran through you as he lapped at your thighs and cunt, still dripping with Solomon’s cum.

After a time, you pulled away, unable to take any more stimulation, and rolled to the side. You were suddenly aware of just how badly you would need to shower. Enough that you could ignore the need of your thoroughly drained body to simply pass out in a sweaty, sticky, cum-coated heap. You wondered fleetingly how Solomon was going to top something like this.

#writing #shall we date obey me #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #nsft #n/s/f/w #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own

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meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

Text

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter one: doomed

❧ genre: tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima

❧ chapter warnings: none

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter song: Doomed by Bring Me the Horizon

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [next chapter]

Your fingers wrapped around the car key in the ignition, slowly turning it and killing the engine. Leaning forwards, you took a closer look at the outside of the tattoo shop you arrived at. It looked clean and modern, white letters in a sharp font spelled out the shop name on the glass.

'HERO|INK'

Quirking a brow you couldn't tell if the owners were being clever and using a play on words for 'heroic' or if 'hero ink' was what they were going for. Either way, you shrugged your shoulders and figured it'd be a good topic for small talk during your tattoo session.

Before exiting your vehicle, your eyes scanned the road you were parked on to make sure no cars were coming. Seeing that it was safe, you wrapped your scarf tightly around your neck, nuzzled into your coat and opened the door, taking off into the freezing cold air. The chilly wind and fleeting snow made your eyes screw shut and bones rattle as you ran to the door of the shop.

Once inside you leaned back against the door, underneath it’s ringing bell that signaled your arrival and took a breath from the brief jog. The temperature inside the shop was extremely warm and cozy, making you hum while shaking off the snow flakes from your hair.

Looking around you were in awe at how well designed and laid out the shop was. You've been in plenty of tattoo shops with your past friends and lover, none of them were even close to how nice this place was. It was pristine, sharp and sleek. Art work was framed and hung from the walls, along with traditional Japanese oni masks. The floors were wood and shiny, the front counter was matte black. The tattoo stations were no where in sight, leading you to believe that they were in the back away from the public.

While looking around and unwrapping your scarf, quick footsteps could be heard from a walkway behind the counter. You looked and smiled when a black-haired male popped up, he gave you a triangular smile in return. He wore a black beanie and had his ears gauged. Black ink in a geometric design with a lotus covered his throat and went further down under the collar of his raglan shirt. Both of his arms were sleeved out, they seemed to have the same theme of geometric patterns along with bold sharp flowers. Looking further you noticed just how massive his elbows were, they were really awkward looking and unconsciously you made a not so cute face.

A warm chuckle made your eyes tear away from the mans elbows and you blushed with embarrassment.

"I – I'm so sorry for staring."

"Nah, it's normal I have weird elbows. It's just because of my quirk," he smiled.

Before you could ask what his quirk was, he bent one of his elbows and aimed it at you. Suddenly a ribbon of white shot out from it and wrapped around your waist. You gasped when the material retracted and pulled you closer to the front counter that he stood behind. You couldn't help but laugh from the demonstration and clapped when he released you and bowed.

"It's tape, comes in handy for a few things I guess. I'm Sero by the way."

You nodded and took the hand he held out for you to shake, "It looks practical, I'm (Y/N)."

Sero raised his eyebrows and went to the computer monitor at the end of the counter. He smiled and snapped his fingers before looking at you.

"You're here for an appointment," he replied and looked at the clock on the wall only to chuckle, "You're five minutes early, we usually never have customers arrive early."

"Yeah, I've never been late for anything in my life honestly, it's just a pet peeve of mine."

Sero breathed out a warm laugh and walked out from behind the counter, his arm motioning you over to a high table that sat against a wall. He pulled out the stool for you and couldn't help but offer his hand when he noticed that the seat was a little too high off the ground.

"Sorry, we usually have massive guys come in here. Rarely do we ever have many females."

You smiled and mentioned it wasn't a problem and thanked him for his help.

Sero took a seat next to you on the opposite stool after he grabbed a sketch pad and pencil from the counter. The two of you went over the idea you had in mind for your tattoo. As you explained the image, Sero's hand worked at sketching up a general idea of it. What you described was very minimalistic.

A plain ocean wave, curling in on itself, no shading involved just line work. You also added lyrics that curved around the wave perfectly. Once Sero finished he looked it over and smirked.

"It's simple and really easy, but I can tell you have a reason for this just from the lyrics. It's always nice to have someone come in wanting a piece that holds sentimental value behind it. It makes what we do that much more important."

You smiled and nodded but didn't care to elaborate any further on your meaning.

Sero nodded himself, quickly figuring out that you didn't want the topic to go any further, to which he was perfectly fine with. He briefly excused himself for a moment and disappeared back behind the counter. You waited silently and watched the busy street outside until Sero came back in a short amount of time and rubbed his hands together as he approached you.

"Alright, where are you wanting to put this?"

You blushed slightly and lifted your arm, placing your hand on the patch of skin on your ribs that started behind the cup of your bra.

"Here."

Sero raised a brow and nodded, "Okay, that's perfectly fine. You are prepared to remove your shirt and bra for it right? Also, your placement choice may be just a tad bit more painful than other spots."

Nodding, you lowered your arm. "I'm fine with all of that. Pain is of no issue, I have a healing quirk."

Sero chuckled and crossed his hands behind his head, "Well shit then, this should be a piece of cake for you! Your artist is finishing up on one of our guys right now, so we'll go ahead and get your paperwork done."

Quickly, he went to the computer behind the desk and printed up a few forms and jogged back over to you and placed them on the table with a pen. Clearing his throat he rubbed the side of his neck.

"You are older than 18 right? It's just something we have to ask."

You giggled, which seemed to reassure Sero, "Yeah, I'm 22 actually. I know, I don't really look it."

Sero agreed and went over the paperwork with you, it was just simple stuff such as you agreeing and consenting to the tattoo, accepting that a tattoo is indeed like an open wound and is susceptible to infections if not taken care of. The paper also asked that you inform them of any allergies to latex, ink, and other things that would come into contact with your skin. After filling out your paperwork, Sero gathered it and placed it in a file behind the counter and motioned you over behind it and to follow him down a hall.

There were three doors all on the same side, two were closed and one was open, the sounds of buzzing and low-volume music could be heard the closer you got.

"Hey Kiri, Denks, this is (Y/N)," Sero said as you both hung around the door frame.

You peeked in to see a yellow-haired male, he was shirtless and random tattoos littered his skin as he laid out on a tattoo chair with an arm wrapped around the back of it. One of his nipples were pierced and a ring with a lightning bolt charm hung from it. His golden eyes flickered up to you and they sparkled when he smiled wide and shifted in his chair.

"Goddammit Denki, stay still, I do have a needle to your skin!"

A raspy voice caught your attention and made you look to the male who was hunched over with his back to you, tattooing Denki.

He wore a black muscle shirt; the sides ripped open all the way down to his waist and showcasing the hard-muscled body beneath the fabric. Both of his arms were covered in traditional Japanese tattoos and a thick black headband had his bright red spiky locks held back, not that they looked like they were going anywhere from how hard and sharp they were.

"Sorry, you know how excited I get when there's a pretty girl around," Denki teased and winked at you.

You couldn't help but blush and smile, only boosting the males ego even more.

Sero moved to stand by Denki and shook his head at the tattoo being placed on his rib cage. "Denki, I really don't understand you sometimes man."

You walked over to look for yourself and covered your mouth trying to hide a chuckle. For some reason this man was getting a tattoo of a hand making an upside down 'ok' symbol.

The red-head glanced at you from the side, deep red eyes looking at you for the first time and quirked a dark brow. You looked back with a smile only to have one of his eyes narrow before he went back to tattooing. You frowned and nervously rubbed your neck.

"Maybe he's just in the zone," you thought.

"So, to what do we owe the pleasure of having such an angelic face enter our shop," Denki asked, batting his exceptionally long lashes at you.

"You mean our shop," Sero corrected and flicked the golden boys forehead as he motioned from himself and Kiri.

He whined and stuck out a pierced tongue making you lightly chuckle and cross your arms while watching the red-head tattoo.

"Well obviously I'm getting a tattoo."

Sero snorted at your straight-forward answer and patted Denki's shoulder.

"Yeah, a tattoo that she's paying for, so hurry it up Red."

Kiri waved off his friend and mumbled incoherently as Sero walked out after giving your shoulder a squeeze and flashing you a reassuring smile. You smiled back and thanked him while removing your coat and sat down in one of the free chairs as you waited for your artist to finish.

You jumped when you caught Denki staring at you all starry eyed. Your brows knitted, a nervous chuckle rolling off your lips.

"You got a man cuteness?"

Kiri's eyes flashed from his task and to you for a brief second before looking back down and smirking. You suppressed the shiver that threatened to run down your spine from the look his piercing red eyes gave. Shaking it off you looked at Denki and shook your head.

"Uh – no. I just recently moved here actually, so I don't know anyone."

Denki excitedly shifted in his seat, digging something out of his pants and making the red-head growl at him. Suddenly, a phone was tossed your way, fortunately you had quick reflexes and caught the device, giving the yellow-haired man a look.

"You can know me, put your number in there, we should totally go out sometime, I'll make sure you have fun!"

You looked at the phone in your hands and hesitated from being put on the spot so quickly. "Uhh, I don't –"

"Just do it so he'll shut up and I can finish this," Kiri demanded with an annoyed voice.

Denki glared at his friend and pushed his shoulder with his palm, "Hey man what's up your ass!"

"Nothing, I just hate wasting time. I have other things I need to do after all of this shit."

You rolled your eyes, already getting sick of the sour attitude this guy was having so far. Without wasting anymore time you unlocked Denki's phone and went straight to entering your contact information.

He seemed pretty harmless and actually funny, so what would it hurt to make a new friend. Getting up from your seat, you walked over and handed the phone back to Denki with a smile.

Once turned around and walking back to your seat, both of the men stole quick glances before you turned back around to sit. Kiri cleared his throat when your (e/c) eyes looked at him and your tongue briefly wet your lips. You bit on the end of it as you quirked a brow at him. He raised his own eyebrow and subtly shook his head, going back to the tattoo.

Denki went to typing away on his phone, seconds later your own phone went off and you fished it out from your bag on the floor.

You opened it to a text from an unknown number that read, 'Just making sure you didn't give me a bogus number' .

Looking up at Denki, who was once again smiling at you made you quietly giggle. After saving his information you spent the next ten minutes browsing random apps to make the time go by. When the buzzing of the tattoo machine finally stopped you looked up to see Kiri place it on the tray next to him and sigh.

He wiped the ink clean with some tattoo soap and a napkin then nudged Denki's leg as if to say he was finished. Denki smiled and hopped off the chair and walked over to the mirror to check out his comical piece of ink. He turned to you and raised a brow. You were able to fully take in his other tattoos which were all literally random and had no cohesive theme to them. It was a mess really.

"What do you think cutie?"

You smiled and chuckled, brushing back a lock of hair. Unaware of the red eyes watching the small movement with interest.

"I have a feeling it really suits you."

Kiri yawned in the background and leaned his head to the side, cracking the bones in it and sighing. He stood from his stool and stretched his arms above his head, your eyes widened as you realized just how massive this guy was. There wasn't a single ounce of fat on him, everything was hard tattooed muscle. You swallowed harshly, admitting to yourself that he was definitely attractive, almost too attractive!

"So, virgin skin huh?"

Your eyes blinked and looked over to see Denki crouched down next to you, it made you jump a little and he chuckled.

"Excuse me," you asked with a smirk.

"I don't see any sort of marks on you, no other tattoos, not even any scars. Even people who live somewhat normal lives have some sort of scars, what are you like some princess that was sheltered from the world?"

Kiri shook his head and tossed an empty ink cup at Denki, "Why can't you mind your own business man."

You shook your head at both men and assured them it was okay.

"Uh – first off, no I'm not a princess. I've had my fair share of scrapes and scratches, but they don't last long because I have a healing quirk. It's not much but –"

"Shit really? So you could heal my tattoo like right now and I wouldn't have to wait two weeks to go swimming?"

You laughed and placed a hand on Denki's cheek, Kiri looked at you with a raised brow and narrowed his eyes, something foreign and totally fucking stupid bubbling up inside of him at the scene before him. Denki however was over the moon and grabbed your hand.

"You do know it's like freezing balls outside right, you can't go swimming!"

"Of course I can cutie, there are such a thing as indoor pools, hot springs!"

"Ah," you remembered and shook your head, "you have a point I guess. But yeah, I could heal you, its small enough."

Denki stood up eagerly and pulled up his shirt, giving you the side of him with the fresh tattoo. He kindly and desperately pleaded to see your quirk in action. It made you laugh, he was too cute for his own good.

With a smile, you placed a hand on his skin. Denki flinched slightly from the feel of your cold fingertips, you apologized softly, earning a bright smile from him.

Closing your eyes you took a deep breath and cleared your mind, a small buzzing at the back of your skull thrumming as your quirk activated. A dim glow illuminated under your hand quickly before disappearing.

Kiri watched on closely as he set up fresh tools, his machine and ink for your tattoo. When you pulled your hand away Denki looked down and felt at the patch of skin. It was no longer warm and raised, it felt as if the tattoo had been healed for months.

"Damn sweetheart, you know you'd come in handy around here," Denki complimented with a devious look in his friends direction.

Kiri glared at the golden boy as if he had said something out of line. Denki cleared his throat and lowered his shirt back down but you smiled at him and he instantly perked back up.

"Well, I should be heading off and letting you get to it Red, thanks again. I'll be back later tonight," Denki walked over and gave his friend a half-hug and grabbed his coat from a hook on the wall.

He sauntered over to you, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips to place a kiss to it. You couldn't help but laugh at how unashamed he was, you were really starting to like this guy.

"It was such a pleasure to meet you gorgeous, this definitely won't be our last time seeing each other. I'll hit you up later, maybe we can go for a bite to eat sometime."

You nodded and waved as Denki made his way out of the room.

The moment he was gone the atmosphere suddenly lost all of it's lightheartedness and you were now alone with the not so charming red-head.

You looked to see him standing at the small desk that sat in a corner of the room, the sound of a printer could be heard and his muscular fingers took the sheet that exited from the machine. His free hand scratched at the back of his neck, body turning around and walking back to the tattoo chair to place the sheet on the leather of it.

He smirked and looked at you finally where you stood there almost glaring at each other.

"Alright little one, strip."

#crimson ink #kirishima eijirou x reader #tattoo shop au #hitmen au #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x oc #mha x oc #xreader #reader insert #slow burn #enemies to lovers #bakusquad #reader x everyone

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