#after which i’ll need to make these last four bracelets tomorrow night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

the assistant

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 6.8k

description: part 1 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now, the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale.

You wanted to smack that dumb smirk off his stupid dumb face.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale. The bane of your fucking existence. Standing there with that stupid fucking smirk on his face, he fucking loved this. Watching as you cleaned up his mess. A crying girl on his doorstep and you, his assistant (aka babysitter), trying to calm her down enough to get her to leave his house. This dumb contemporary floor to ceiling windowed, minimalist, empty souled house. The girl had been picked up at a bar last night. Charmed by his handsome face, the money he was careless to spend, the way he spoke to you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

It was a fucking joke. A trick. You’ve seen it a million times and you’d be willing you bet that you’d see it a million more.

The door blocked her view of him, your clear view of him from the side, sipping on a mug of coffee in his hands and fucking smirking.

“He won't even see me?” You hated when they cried. Like each of them had this idea that they’d go home with Ransom Drysdale and fuck him so good that he’d tie them to his bed and never let them leave or something.

You sighed heavily before replying, “Mr. Drysdale has business to attend to, he’s unavailable at the moment, but I can leave him a message if you’d like?” You did this maybe five or six times a week. In the early morning hours, after his sexual escapade and some rest, Ransom would wake early and leave for the gym. In that time you were supposed to ‘take out the trash’ as he described it. This morning, the girl left dazed and confused in the fog taking an uber back to her home, but returning an hour later trying to plead her case. It was giving you a migraine.

The girl stepped back from the porch, shoes crunching against the gravel as she searched the windows for his face. “FUCK YOU RANSOM.” She shouted, flipping the bird into the air. The man hiding to your right, choked on his coffee in laughter as you watched the girl get back into her car and disappear from sight.

“What's on the agenda today Ransom,” You shut the door quietly, turning to face him, “Because if I have to do that again tomorrow I’ll quit.” He scoffed in indignation.

“You’re not gonna quit,” He drained the rest of his mug, “You can’t even leave the house long as you got that.” He gestured towards your leg. Sitting firmly on your right ankle was a house arrest bracelet. One meant for him, but carefully bribed into being put on your own leg. The stupid son of a bitch got away with murder, after the death of his late Grandfather’s housekeeper by his own hand and the attempted murder of the girl that got the entire Thrombey fortune, he stayed the lucky son of a bitch he had been his entire life.

Evidence was mishandled, not enough proof. That whole, ‘beyond reasonable doubt’ thing. The rich asshole got fucking house arrest and court mandated therapy. Even after there were three fucking witnesses to him attempting to murder Marta Cabrera.

Money oiled the gears of the justice system, letting the trust fund baby slip through without consequence. That’s where you come in.

You worked for the Thrombey’s before. As a tutor to Meg when she began to fail her english class. For whatever reason, Lynda and Richard Drysdale liked you, assigned you a new task. Their sweet baby boy Hugh, called Ransom by everyone but the Help. You’ve worked for Ransom for three years now. The first year before the death of his Grandfather and Thrombey patriarch, and now two years after his death and wouldn’t you know it. Hugh Ransom Drysdale wrote a fucking bestseller.

Everyone wanted an insight into this family. Harlan Thrombey always said there was so much of him in Ransom. He wasn’t lying.

Ransom wrote the first of what you knew would be many new Thrombey family murder mystery novels. And he was reaping in the cash. He was two months away from his next big release. Something you’re sure would fly off the shelves just as quickly as the first.

“Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got a deadline to meet.” His coffee mug abandoned by the front door for you to clean up, he left you to officially start your day. He retreated into the study he created for himself to crank out the last four chapters he needed for his book, maybe.

Due to circumstances beyond your control, you were the one placed on house arrest. As long as no one was notified that Ransom left the perimeter of the house you were being paid well, and you being paid well meant your younger sister gets taken care of. You were able to send her money every month to help with the fact that she was staying with an estranged aunt. It hadn’t been easy once your mother died, but the Thrombey’s lighten the load so to say.

That’s why you were washing Ransom’s sheets that reeked of sex, picking up and disposing of torn panties and tossing used condoms the fucking dick couldn’t be bothered enough to toss two more feet into the trash can in his on-suite. You’d invested in rubber gloves.

On days that Ransom had to meet with his probation officer he would wear a dummy bracelet. It got him by and soon the fucker would be over and done with house arrest all together. You’d be able to move back home then. Hopefully.

“Ransom, you ever gonna eat today?” You knocked on the open door of his study, bringing his attention from his computer to you, who held a bowl of pasta in your one hand. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. There were multicolored post-its surrounding his computer. Your mind made the connection with how similar it was to his Grandfather’s own workspace. You gently placed the bowl on his desk, turning to pour him a tumbler of whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room.

“I don’t know how the old bastard ever cranked out two books a year,” His neck cracked. “How is that even possible?” He took a large bite of the pasta, squinting at the screen. His eyes quickly shifted to yours, watching you set down the glass of whiskey in front of him. He grabbed your wrist. “Stay.” It was an order. “Sit.” You took your place in a chair across from him.

“Harlan wrote every day,” You told him, “You write whenever you’re not off sticking your dick into anything that breathes.” He laughed at that.

“Not everything that breathes,” He typed a few more words into the word document, “I haven’t fucked you yet.” Your core pulsed, he said yet.

Audibly you scoffed, “I would never willingly fuck you Ransom.” You pulled your legs up onto the chair to make yourself comfortable. He smirked at that, eyes not leaving the computer screen.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” That stupid smirk. You hated that fucking smirk. So condescending.

When you first met Ransom you were probably very much like the girls that you now pry out of his bed at 8 am. You had been tutoring Meg at the family home, sitting at the kitchen table going over Othello when he sauntered in, digging through the cabinets for snacks. You could feel Meg tense up next to you and that’s when he turned. He was so fucking pretty. Blue eyes, well kept hair, cashmere sweater, those broad fucking shoulders, and on his face, stretching that full bottom lip you wanted to tug between your teeth, was a smirk.

That pulsing throb between your thighs soon was quickly forgotten as he opened his mouth and began to speak, “How’s it going Meg, trouble reading? Or do they not teach you how to read when you’re a liberal? Lord knows you guys never fucking understand anything anyway.” Meg snapped back at him, but you were stunned. You could tell he said that on purpose, knowing it would make her go off on the tangent he was now, finding a sick pleasure in it. That was the first time you’d seen the smirk. You’d lost count of how many times you’ve seen it since then.

“I really hate you Ransom.” You sighed, sinking further into your chair. He had almost finished off the bowl of pasta by now, whiskey long since emptied. He thinks it’s funny, you hating him because he responds looking you in your eyes, maintaining his smirk,

“I know you do baby.” He liked to do that. Call you pet names. Once he had even pretended you were his wife when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl he had been balls deep in, bent over the back of the couch. He fucking LOVED that one. The girl had cried, embarrassed, apologizing as she picked her bra up from the floor and slunk out the front door behind you. That was a while ago. Pre-Murder. You should have seen it then. How insane he actually was.

Ransom was incredibly smart and was a quick thinker. It was part of the reason that he had gotten away with murder in the first place. You knew that. It showed in his novel. He would have you read chapters, give him your opinion, before writing and rewriting. Showing you again. He’d ask you if you could figure out who was the murderer, a sinister glint in his eyes, arms crossed, standing above you waiting. He could only be satisfied if you didn’t have a clue.

It was a gift, you supposed, the ease in which he wrote to make every character a possible suspect in completely new and incredible scenarios. He had three books in various states of completion that he was chipping away at, the one he was currently working on seemingly better than the previous published.

His Mother, the one who gave him the silver spoon and cursed him for having it his whole life, was suddenly proud of him. His Father, now divorced from his Mother, would come by weekly asking for money. Ransom loved that too. His Dad got nothing due to the prenup, leaving him penniless. The cushy job he had at Lynda’s real estate empire was gone, and now Dad was working at local agency scraping by on low commission. Last week his Father came to the door while Ransom was writing and muscled his way not too kindly past you into the house.

“Ransom!” He called, finding his way into his son’s study. You quietly shut the door, returning to folding laundry. The door shut tightly behind him and sounds had been muffled. It’s only when their voices went from calm to a screaming match did the door wretch open and Ransom followed his Dad out, both red faced.

“We’ve given you everything in your fucking life and you can’t even give one iota back.” Ransom opened the front door, gesturing to the porch.

“Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.” His voice stern and commanding.

“Fuck you Ransom.” With that he was gone. The silence that had settled over the house was thick, Ransom’s hand still resting against the closed door before he took a breath and, without taking a glance in your direction, returned to his study. Closing the door.

The echo of that argument sat in the house for the rest of the day, Ransom leaving soon after to find a body to lose himself in. If the murder trial did anything, it made Ransom into a bad boy and girls fucking loved it. He wasn’t, technically, guilty after all.

You attempted to clear the bowl in front of him, but was stopped by his hand. His eyes never left the screen as he brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss in your palm, before dragging your arm to his other shoulder, hugging himself with it awkwardly until you gave in and wrapped your other arm around him, holding him tightly for a moment.

He was soft sometimes. His Mom never held him when he was a kid. He was left alone a lot while she was building her empire. Babysitters never stayed long, nannies came and went. Sometimes you truly felt bad for him, other times you remember that he was a dick and that he loved to play tricks and torment anyone and everyone that was supposed to take care of him, including you. The only difference was you weren’t able to leave.

He let you go soon after that, letting you clean up the mess from dinner and stoke the fire place warming the house that always seemed too cold. As you stood by the fire, arms wrapped around yourself you could feel him behind you, coming to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder as you stared into the flames. There was a moment or two of silence as you both stood there.

If this were any other situation, if Ransom loved you, if this was someone who loved you, if this someone cared enough to care about the things you care about, this would be kind of romantic. But it’s Ransom, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself, he definitely didn’t care about you, and he one hundred percent didn’t care about anything you care about. “I’m going out.”

His arms left your waist and his chest left your back leaving you cold. “For fucks sake Ransom, I don’t feel like throwing out a girl tomorrow morning.” You turned to watch him throwing his coat on. He smirked. He fucking smirked.

“I’ll give you a break and throw her out myself then.” And he was gone.

Hours later you’re woken by the sound of Ransom coming home, sure enough he wasn’t alone. Soft giggles and a bang, he’s shoved her against the wall beside your room. There were muffled groans as you assumed she found her knees right there in the hallway. He got off on this shit, you knew. Often stopping somewhere outside your door to start his sexual escapades. Knowing you were mere feet away, like some half-assed exhibitionism. It wasn’t long after that the girl squealed and there was more muffled talking before they moved to his bedroom. To which you shared a wall.

Your bedroom, before you were a live-in, housed a bunch of items you believed graced a teen boy’s bedroom walls at one point. And still, shoved in the corner, were playboy model cardboard cutouts, “They’re vintage, mint condition, and worth a lot.” Sure, Ransom, sure they are. Arcade games, framed patriots jerseys, a lacrosse set from his high school days. You were shoved in the middle of it all, a single bed shoved against the wall surrounded by what once was a room full of teenage boy memorabilia. A shrine to his youth.

The headboard soon came knocking and hope for sleep was lost. The girl’s moans escalating to shrieks. Either he was as good as he says, or these girls really care about his ego. Either could be true when there’s more than one comma in your bank account.

The kitchen was much quieter. A steady rocking still came from upstairs, but thankfully it was muffled by the floor. As you made a cup of tea you figured you would see if he had printed off a new chapter ready for you to read. You hope he wouldn’t have gone out without finishing it anyway.

You were not sure why you cared to be honest. You had this love/hate for Ransom. He was an annoying prick who did something really fucking horrible, but he also made it very clear to everyone involved that you had nothing to do with it. There was a scary moment there, after his arrest, when you were brought to the station for interrogation. You hadn’t known he had even gotten up to any of these crimes. He kept you completely in the dark and he was sure to let his arresting officers know that. You hadn’t even seen him since the night Harlan died when he left the party stranding you at the estate.

Money does crazy things to people. The threat of his steady income leaving was enough to push him to do something crazy. He was lucky enough that the recorded confession magically was erased. He was lucky for dirty cops. He was lucky that even though his mother despised his lifestyle she didn’t want him to go to prison. He was so lucky. Now with his first novel sitting highly on the bestseller list, he seemed even more lucky than he did before.

His study was on the opposite side of the house from his bedroom, muffling the sounds enough for you to flip through the packet left on top of his keyboard. Three chapters away from completion you were following the detective through paces where things felt more confusing than ever, the clues were unclear and there was not much to go on, but the tension between the eldest son of the victim and his ex-wife were mounting and it was hard to believe that maybe this guy had nothing to do with it despite what was described as an ‘air-tight’ alibi. You read through the chapter twice, scribbling your thoughts in red pen along the margins.

“What do you think?” You jumped in your chair, looking up to see Ransom in the doorway.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Your hand still clutching your chest. He had a glass of water in his hand, chest bare, solid navy pajama pants slung low on his hips. His chest hair always got you, just a little bit. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and pushed off the door jam to walk into the room, taking a seat in the chair you occupied hours ago. “It’s good,” you cleared your throat, “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for you to finish to be honest.” He chuckled softly.

“Let me see.” You handed him the packet and his eyes scanned the margins, reading your comments. They were mostly reactions, that’s what he liked. He wanted to know how you reacted to everything he put in front of you, did you like the romance, the tension, the lust he was trying to write between the ex-husband and wife? Or was it too distracting from the plot? Is the detective too unbelievable? He’s a character for sure. Can you figure out whodunnit yet?

“What are you doing out of bed?” You asked, spinning the chair side to side, waiting for him to put the packet down.

“I told you I was going to kick her out.” He took another sip from his water. You scoffed,

“And you couldn’t start doing this sooner?” A smile stretched his lips,

“I like how much it bothers you.”

“It’s annoying,” you said, “Worst way to start my day.” He laughed.

“That’s the only reason?” He asked, throwing the packet back on the desk, leaning back in his chair. Smirking.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You pushed back from the desk, moving to exit the room. He quickly grabbed your wrist, tugging you over to his side where he looked up at you,

“If you wanna take their place, just let me know.” Your other hand came up to smack him on his shoulder, causing him to laugh as he released you, letting you take your exit.

“Dick.”

You found him the next morning at his desk, looking as though he had very little sleep. “Babe could you get me some coffee?” You yawned in the doorway,

“Sure.” It didn’t take long before you were setting the cup in front of him. “Your therapist is coming by at one.” He nodded, not looking up from his computer. “I’ll come get you when it’s time for you to get ready.”

He was focused. You weren’t sure where this focus came from. It was every once in a while that he would find this stroke of inspiration and write for a whole day straight. Hopefully he will be finished his book before schedule and be able to get ahead for the next one.

Soon he was washed, dressed, and ready for the one person he dreads the most. He hated therapy sessions. There were only ten more he needed to do before the court mandate was over. Ten more weeks until you were able to get this lovely ankle bracelet off when you would hopefully be able to go back to the routine you had with him before. Where you’d sleep in your own shitty apartment and show up to work a 9 to 9 five days a week.

After sessions he was always moody, quiet, and tended to need his favorite single malt restocked the next day. Not exactly in line with how he should be tending to whatever revelation the therapist has been streamlining him to, but that wasn’t any of your business. You could say though that during the last 42 weeks of sessions this refractory period was shortening to less and less time, maybe tonight you won't be peeling him off the floor of the study and dragging him up to his room drunk off his ass.

While in the session you were trying not to listen in on, you were sunk heavily on the living room couch, drinking coffee and reading the latest chapter he had slapped into your hands before entering back into his study. The book was so close to being finished, the last two chapters leading you to the big reveal and aftermath. The climax was steady taking hold and you were more sure than ever that the eldest son had something to do with it. You didn’t know what he did, but it was something.

He looked mad enough to kill as the Doctor left. Slamming the door, barely missing the Doctor’s jacket sleeve as he made his hasty retreat. Ransom stood seething for a moment by the front door, a chill running down your spine. He had murdered someone before, something you try to forget seeing as you are forced to spend so much time with him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. It felt like an hour before he moved.

“I’m going out.” The words spoken sternly as he stomped his way up the stairs like a petulant child, returning moments later, cleaned up, eyes blank, before grabbing his coat and slamming the door loud enough to make you jump.

Aside from Ransom’s Mother never being around and aside from his Father’s string of extramarital affairs and aside from his Grandfather’s need to push him in every direction but close, you wish you could say that Ransom had a good childhood. But he didn’t. When he was little the kids picked on him for being rich, and when he was bigger they only became friends with him because he was rich. He was such a bully. At least, that’s what his Mother told you once drunk off chardonnay at his birthday dinner last year.

Disappointment.

That was a clear sentiment for the small family get together, and by small family get together you meant the dinner you cooked and Ransom looking like he’d rather be in prison than listen to his parents bicker over his Father’s new (Not so new seeing as he’d been caught kissing her by a PI before Harlan’s death) girlfriend. She was smart enough not to come.

This night was looking a lot like that one. Ransom, after his parents left and you began to tidy up, began to scream at you.

“What gave you the fucking right you dumb bitch?” He was spitting, face red as you cleared the dishes. “You’re only here for the money. The fucking money. How much is she paying you huh?” The bottle of expensive whiskey he had been drinking throughout the night was in his hand, swinging it around and taking pulls straight from the bottle. “Not enough obviously because you would have let me fuck you a long time ago.”

Your face flushed red as your own anger began to rise. He continued, “Never, ever, fucking again will you allow my parents in this house, do you understand me?” His unoccupied hand grabbed your arm tight enough to bruise, turning you to face him. His eyes wild and unfocused. “I said do you understand me?” You not so gently wretched your arm from his.

“Don’t touch me.” He always fucking did this. Blamed you for things you had no control over. Lynda approached you about a dinner for Ransom’s birthday. It was her name in your paystubs. You can’t say no.

“How dare you-” He began, but was cut short.

“No Ransom. No.” Like scolding a fucking dog who put his paws on the table. You threw the bowl you currently had in your hands into the sink, turning to fully face him. “I am only here for the money and I am only here because your Mother pays me a lot to be here.” His jaw clenched. “But I’m also here because I’m the only fucking person who even remotely cares about your ungrateful prissy spoiled ass and if it wasn’t for me you’d be sitting in this fucking glass house, alone, with only your own self-righteous attitude to keep you company. So don’t you ever touch me like that again. Do you understand?”

He loudly clunked the bottle onto the kitchen island, stumbling in your direction as you backed yourself into the sink. His trial had just concluded two weeks ago, Fran’s murder fresh on your mind and you wondered if you just made a terrible mistake. Over the course of this rant, the alcohol was sinking into his bloodstream, it turned his anger into a crippling depression. One that resulted in his hands softly grasping your shoulders, and tugging you into his body. His face found your neck and slowly started to grow damp with what you realized were his tears.

Your heart broke a bit, too much empathy, even for this asshole. Your arms came to wrap around his shoulders, letting him cry it out.

That was the first and only time you saw Ransom cry over anything. If he hadn’t been as drunk as he was you knew that moment would never have happened. The sweet little moment that made your heart ache was quickly gone the next morning when Ransom made you coffee and thought it would be hilarious that after you thanked him for being so sweet he joked that he poisoned it. You could still recall the cackles of laughter as you spit your coffee into the sink.

That was the day he began writing his first novel.

He came home alone tonight which was strange. And far earlier than normal. You usually were in bed, or holed up in his study by the time he arrived him after a night out. Staying out of his way as he drug a bubbly hopeful girl up to his bed to satisfy his own needs for the night. He found you tonight, sitting outside, watching Netflix on your tablet by the firepit you had decided to light, a hot cup of tea sitting on the end table next to you. Cozy and wrapped in a blanket.

You could feel his eyes on you from the doorway. You tapped the screen, pausing your show and turned to look at him. His hair was slightly mussed, face flushed, and socked toes curling from the chill. He was looking at you strangely.

“You’re home early.” You placed the tablet down on the end table, turning to face him. He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jam.

“I just needed a drive.” There was a soft smile on his face, well that’s new.

“Is everything okay?” He never tells you anything, but the sentiment matters. He looked to his feet, nodding.

“I’m probably going to try to stay up and finish the book tonight.” He shifted himself back into the house, your voice calling out to him,

“Come sit out here for a bit. It’s calming, just take a break from thinking for a minute.” He sighed and looked at you again, debating something in his head.

“I need to be alone.” You tried anyway. He disappeared from sight. And that was that.

The next day Ransom began acting even more strangely. The book was finished, the last two chapters handed wordlessly to you as he left for the gym on what you’re assuming was no sleep. That wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was when he returned three hours later bearing a box of donuts from your favorite bakery and two lattes, on his face was a smile.

“What did you do?” You accused, “Did you poison this?” You gestured towards the latte he placed in your hand.

“No.” He laughed, sliding the box of donuts to you. You stared at him skeptically before taking a sip. Tastes normal.

“Are you sick?” Your wrist coming to lay across his forehead, temperature feels fine.

“No.” He laughed again, pulling your wrist from his forehead and kissing your palm before opening the box of donuts, pulling a cinnamon sugar donut to his lips. “You just told me the other day how you missed these and I figured since I passed the shop on the way back it wouldn’t hurt to go pick some up.” It was suspicious. You continued to look at him skeptically. He sighed, placing the donut on the counter, grabbing the latte from your hand he took a large sip of it. “I didn’t fucking poison you Y/N.”

Okay.

Okay. You examined the box of donuts, pulling out the bear claw that was begging to be eaten. Still warm. You moaned in delight as soon as the warm pastry hit your taste buds. You really had missed these. Opening your eyes, you saw Ransom staring blankly at you before his eyes shifted to the packet by your side.

“All finished?” You swallowed and nodded, sliding the packet marked with red over to him and as he began to study your notes you tried to think about what could have possibly gotten him in such a good mood. The Doctor’s visit was odd enough. Yes he was angry when the Doctor left, but then just a drive? Not a blackout drunk, bringing two girls home to pleasure himself with and accidentally falling into a line or two of coke night, but a drive?

Maybe therapy had been working? Maybe he had a breakthrough? He finished the novel. The eldest son had something to do with it, his airtight alibi just that, a cover for the crime having been committed at a different time than the coroner’s estimated time frame due to him freezing the body and allowing it to thaw in the house.

You had asked Harlan how he came up with such incredible stories once. He said they just popped into his head fully formed, his brain moving faster than his fingers. He kept a little notebook with good ideas and would simmer in them as long as it took for a stroke of inspiration. The rest was just typing.

He smirked at some of your comments, ‘what a fucking joke’ you wrote next to the eldest son’s monologue about being passed over, his whining, annoying, self centered crying about how life wasn’t fair.

“What’s the smirk for?” You asked, removing the lid of your latte and dipping part of the bear claw in it.

“The lack of sympathy for Greg.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“He’s a fucking loser.” Ransom’s eyes met yours, “I bet you see a lot of yourself in him.” That made him laugh.

“What? You don’t like spoiled rich men?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip from the milky sweet latte you didn’t know would feel like your life’s blood right now.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I think you find me endearing.” Ransom smirked. Your neck flushed.

“I find you annoying,” You admitted. “I only put up with you because of my paycheck.” He licked his lips.

“Sure,” He closed the packet, pushing it aside to take another bite of the donut, cinnamon sugar dusting his lips. “You put up with me because you’re secretly in love with me, but you know that I would never get with The Help.” This made you laugh.

“If you want me to be the Help I’ll gladly call you Hugh if it means you leave me alone.” He placed his paper cup on the counter, circling around to you.

“I like when you call me Hugh.” His hands came to rest on your upper arms, grinning.

“You’re disgusting.” He laughed at the clear displeasure on your face, spinning your stool around to him, and you leaned back, creating some distance as he came to stand between your legs.

“You don’t mean that do you baby?” His fingers toying with the ends of your hair. You could feel your nipples harden in excitement, body betraying you. A wet growing between your legs.

“Ransom what are you doing?” You said in exasperation. You weren’t blind. Ransom was gorgeous. You’d maybe, possibly, gotten off to the thought of him once or twice or maybe more than that in the four years you’ve known him. But he was also a scumbag who fucks and then throws girls out hours later. His moods were hot and cold. He had major Mommy issues and he’s not technically guilty of murder, but he’s a fucking murderer. But also… he’s been going to therapy and after that fight on his birthday last year he’s never laid a hand on you in anger again, there’s been some arguments sure, but he’s mostly nice to you. Caring even.

“Why don’t you love me Y/N?” His voice almost came out as a whine. He was playing with you.

“Ransom stop.” You pushed him away gently. He was fucking smirking.

“Usually there’s a ‘don’t’ in front of that.” Cocky bastard.

“You’re the worst person I know. And I hate that fucking smirk.” You picked at your now cold bear claw, trying to turn from him.

“Why don’t you wipe it off my face then?” Your eyes met his and you glared.

“What’s gotten into you today? Maybe you should go out early. Find some girl to satisfy whatever you’re going through right now.” His hands met your hips, spinning your stool back around to face him.

“What if I want you to satisfy whatever I’m going through right now.” His groin fit right up against your core and you could feel his throbbing heat between your legs. Fuck.

“Don’t make this mistake Ransom.” You placed one hand gently on his chest, attempting (but not really) to push him back. His forehead coming to rest against yours. “You don’t want this.”

“This is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.” His breath mingled with yours, sweet, cinnamon and coffee.

“You’re not thinking straight.” His lips brushed against yours, tongue coming out to wet his lips, his eyes locked with yours. Why weren’t you pushing him away? Your breath hitched as his tongue accidentally grazed your bottom lip.

“The only clarity I’ve ever had in my life has been when I’m with you.”

His lips pressed heavily against yours, pushing you back against your bedroom door as his hand came to tangle in your hair. He was all consuming, body hot and heavy against yours. Your core was thrumming with want, moisture pooling in the crotch of your yoga pants. His hips were rolling into yours and you could feel the hard length of him against your belly. His lips quickly moved across your jaw to your neck and you could hear yourself moaning softly as he licked, sucked, and nibbled on the sensitive skin below your ear. Your hands clenching the soft material of the t-shirt by his hips, dipping your fingers slowly into the waistband of his shorts.

His lips parted from your neck, hand tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes before taking your mouth once more. His mouth moved down this time to the tops of your breasts, hands leaving to shift the thick wool cardigan off your shoulders and onto the floor before dropping the straps of your camisole and exposing them to the air, nipples already pebbled in excitement.

You hadn’t dated in a while, unable to because of your paid house arrest and before that the way Ransom had worked you to the bone picking up after him. And the touch from someone else always felt better than your own. His hands felt huge on you, protecting.

Your head met the door as he enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud on his tongue until he felt the left neglected, and switched, beginning to toy with your right nipple between his finger tips. Moans and heavy breaths were the only sounds in the hallway as Ransom made his way down your body, slipping your yoga pants and panties off your hips as he found his knees before you.

“Ransom-”

“Shhhhh,” He pressed his lips against your naval, working his way to your trembling core. His hand lifted your right thigh, draping it over his shoulder as his eyes focused in on your, what you knew must be soaking, wet pussy. His eyes met yours from his knees, your legs trembling with anticipation, eyes locked as his pink tongue came to meet your pussy for the first time, a shuddering breath being released from you urged him on further.

His thick fingers spread your lips open, exposing your clit to his gentle assault. A building pleasure in your core as his tongue began to skillfully work, pulling moans from your mouth. How was he so good at this? Experimenting with different strokes, different pressure, finding what you like.

“Just like that, oh my god.” He rolled his tongue against your clit, eyes finding yours once more, keeping pace. You could see the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk as he began to work you up to climax. “You’re such a fucking asshole, I hate that fucking smirk.” Head hitting back against the door as he used his fingers to tease your opening. “Oh my god.” Your hips bucked against his face, causing him to use the arm currently wrapped around your thigh to splay open on your abdomen, holding your hips still. The wet noises and soft grunts from the man between your thighs only caused you to grow closer to your release.

“You taste so fucking good baby,” moaned between your thighs.

“Don’t fucking stop.” You scolded. So close. So fucking close. He obeyed, continuing his assault on your dripping pussy, fingers entering your tight channel to stroke against your sensitive walls. He buried his face further into your pussy, nose coming to rest in the soft curls there as he watched you come undone. Your moans escalating in volume as you felt your body tighten with pleasure, hips begging to buck against his face as he rode you through it. He continued to lick and suck on your clit until your hands found his head, pushing him away, legs shaking as you dropped against the door, knees coming to rest around his body.

That fucking smirk, “How was that?” He asked, face glistening with your cum.

“Fuck you Ransom.” And he fucking laughed the bastard. What a fucking dick. He brought his face back to yours, gently claiming your lips. The tang of your pussy ever present as you felt him consume you. Your heart was still racing as he picked you up from the floor, bringing you into his bedroom and ever so gently laying you down on the sheets you had just changed two hours ago.

His eyes were shifting between yours, a strange expression on his face.

“You can’t kick me out tomorrow Ransom,” Your breathing was heavy as he began to work at your neck, his hands going to remove his gym shorts. “I can’t leave.” He pressed his lips back to yours as you felt him rub the tip of his dick against your clit, your body shaking with over-stimulation. It felt so intimate. Before, his eyes on yours as he brought you over with his tongue and now as he slowly enters you, stretching your walls with his thick cock, eyes not breaking contact he sighs,

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans

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tradgicworks · 3 years

Text

Heartfelt:P-1 A World of Sorrow

When a student of a private school disappears during stormy night, three strangers come together to look for her and end up discovering the dark secrets of the world around them. WORD COUNT - 3134

The light of the setting sun peered into the old diner. Black clouds dotted the sky. Sophie took a long sip from her milkshake and stared wistfully at the horizon. Her golden bangle bracelet slid down her arm as she did.

“What’s wrong?” Gwyneth asked as she noticed her gaze.

Gwyneth brushed her bangs aside. Her dark brown colored eyes were filled with concern. She had voluminous long black hair that covered her shoulders like a fluffy mane. She wore a uniform which consisted of a long skirt, a simple tucked in blouse, and a blazer- all in different shades of purple.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just thinking about some stuff,” Sophie said with a meek smile.

"What kinda stuff?" Gwyneth asked.

"Midterms, winter vacation, piano practice. The usual," Sophie replied.

“Wow, not even trying to hide the fact that you weren’t paying attention to my story, huh?" Gwyneth gave an exaggerated sigh.

"I'm sorry," Sophie awkwardly smiled.

“It's okay, I forgive you. Anyways, remember that girl that went missing a couple months ago, she was a freshman, um, vice president of the chess club or something. Well some of the older students have been talking about how this isn’t the first time that it has happened,” Gwyneth ate one of her few remaining fries. “Near the end of last year’s spring semester a different freshman suddenly moved away. This normally wouldn't have been seen as strange except for the fact that it was right in the middle of finals. Supposedly, one of her friends decided to call her parents to ask about what happened only to be told that the phone number had been out of service for weeks.”

“Spooky,” Sophie commented simply.

“Mhm. So, the older girls started talking and it turned out that a lot of students went missing over the years. They say that it's been about fifteen students in total that have suddenly disappeared. For every single one of them there was a convenient excuse for why, but all of it just seems too coincidental,” Gwyneth leaned in for dramatic effect. “Me thinks there’s a conspiracy afoot.”

“Really? I suppose it is strange, but it could just be that the seniors get overactive imaginations with how much free time they have during finals,” Sophie sighed.

“Aw come on, humor me at least," Gwyneth leaned back. “Don’t you think it’s weird that the academy has a dedicated security team that answers directly to Capital City’s police department? We even have a creepy name for them- Wardens- that’s not normal!”

“Well, given the kind of students that attend it’s not that strange,” Sophie said.

“You really are playing devil's advocate today, huh?” Gwyneth gave a friendly smile.

“Sorry,” Sophie lowered her gaze.

Gwyneth’s smile turned to a face of concern.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay-'' Gwyneth started before she was interrupted by the chimes of their phones.

“Curfew,” Sophie swiped at her smartphone. “It’s time to head back.”

“Right...” Gwyneth gazed at her for a few seconds as she packed up her things and got ready to leave before following suit.

The two left a tip for the waiter and headed out into the cold air of the coming winter. The sleepy sky matched the energy of the few students that remained outside, all of them in a quiet hurry to get back to the main campus of Dorothy Elaine Atham's Private Academy for Young Women, or “the academy” as the students plainly referred to it. It was originally constructed in the early 1940s, yet it managed to remain one of the most prestigious high schools in Capital City. This was mostly due to the academy having the support of the Capital City Police Department. They would employ off-duty officers to act as the academy’s security team, or ‘Wardens’ as they were officially referred to. As a result the academy set itself apart as one of the safest private high schools in the entirety of the United States. Strict curfews, no relationships, mandatory dorms, quarterly inspections by the Wardens, uniforms and an arduous curriculum were some of the measures taken to keep the students safe. Wealthy families from all over the country enrolled their children with peace of mind that they would be safe, allowing the school to afford top of the line facilities, staff, and to further its reputation even more. It was said that the academy was so stern with its policies that even the lightest violation could lead to expulsion. Of course that was just a rumor.

Sophie and Gwyneth eventually found themselves back at the main entrance of the academy. Tall walls made of brick and black fencing led to two large half open gates. A flower bed filled with wilting violet roses that matched the student’s outfits sat underneath them. A tall Warden stood at the side of the entrance. Her bright green eyes filled with overwhelming sternness locked with Sophie’s. Sophie averted her gaze and made her way in alongside Gwyneth.

“W-Well, see you tomorrow,” Sophie said to Gwyneth as she took out a pair of wireless earbuds.

“Wait,” Gwyneth gently grabbed her arm before she left. “How about we walk back to your dorm together? I got some more spooky stories I want to tell you about.”

“You won’t make it back to your dorm in time if we do that, you’re on the other side of campus.” Sophie replied.

“I could just stay at your place, y’know like a sleepover,” Gwyneth doubled down as she let go of her arm.

“We both know you can’t do that,” Sophie let out a long breath and held Gwyneth’s shoulders. “I’m fine, really. I know you’re worried about me but I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyneth asked.

“I’m sure,” Sophie looked her in the eyes. “I promise that I’m okay.

“Breakfast?” Gwyneth asked dejectedly.

“Of course, breakfast sounds great,” Sophie gave a convincing enough smile. “Now let’s hurry, before the dorm doors lock.” She said as she let go of her.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Gwyneth smiled slightly.

“Goodnight,” Sophie replied before putting in her earbuds and selecting a classical music playlist.

The sun was halfway nestled into the horizon by the time they split. Night was rapidly approaching. The pitch black clouds moved as a mound, thunder rumbled in the distance. The academy resembled a small college more than a high school. Four buildings took up the majority of the campus, each housing their respective grade. A well decorated plaza rested in the middle of the four buildings, where the freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors could interact with each other during lunch or after classes. The dorms sat a few hundred feet from their respective buildings. Wilting but mostly green grass took the majority of the empty space in the campus. Trees and flower beds stood beside the lamp posts that lit up the sprawling walkways. The campus barely had enough room for everything that was built on it, but it was efficient nonetheless.

Sophie’s brows furrowed as the freshmen dorm came into view. It was tucked away in the farthest corner of the campus. While the other dorms enjoyed a nice view of the academy, the freshmen dorms were greeted with the old auditorium. It was by far the oldest building on campus and in a desperate need for renovation. Unfortunately, the construction was inexplicably postponed until the end of the semester- leaving the freshmen with the sight of an ugly, half finished, and decaying building.

Sophie glanced at the front doors. A girl leaned against the doors as she chewed gum. Sophie overlapped the ends of her blazer together and averted her eyes. The girl stopped chewing as Sophie walked to the entrance. Sophie quickly took out her ID card and pressed it against the door’s scanner. The girl swatted her ID to the ground as it finished scanning.

“Whoops,” The girl, Eva, leered in a pretentious tone as she put her arm around her shoulder. “Didn’t see you there princess.”

Eva blew a bubble with her gum and popped it with a sharp snap. Her dyed ash blonde hair was tied into a messy bun. Her hazel colored eyes were flecked with dull orange blemishes. She wore a thick black hoodie and a short skirt which barely fell within the academy’s dress code. A faint but irritatingly smug smirk stretched across her face.

“What do you want, Eva?” Sophie said meekly.

“Nothing much, nothing much at all. I just wanted to talk to my dear friend for uh,” Eva glanced at her wrist watch. “Five minutes.”

“We’re not friends,” Sophie kept her gaze glued to the floor.

“It hurts me to hear you say that,” Eva squeezed her shoulder until she winced from the pain. “Listen, I need a little favor. As you know, winter break is in a week and I’m running low on funds, so I was wondering if you can help me. It’ll run you about five thousand dollars, but of course that’s nothing compared to all the allowance money your mommy and daddy are giving you, right?”

“No,” Sophie muttered.

“Excuse me?,” Eva tilted her head until she met her gaze. “You need to speak up, I can’t hear you through your teeth.”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Sophie pushed her off of herself. “Leave me alone or I’ll report you to the Wardens!”

“Oh, really now?” Eva chuckled dryly. “I think you and I both know you can’t follow up on such a threat, not without putting that friend of yours in a whole lot of trouble…Well you do have a point, I can’t take what’s not in my hands after all…” She glanced at her watch and gave a sadistic smirk.

“But neither can you,” Eva said before sweeping Sophie’s legs and causing her to trip backwards.

Sophie yelped in pain as she just managed to catch herself. By the time she got up Eva was already inside of the dorm with her ID in hand. She rushed to the doors only to find that they were already locked. The sound of a grandfather clock chimed through the PA system signaling the start of the curfew.

“It’s a good thing you managed to scan the door before you dropped your ID, huh? That way it's on record that you got in here before curfew. Your perfect attendance is not in danger, though it was a real shame you lost your ID. Don’t worry though I’ll turn it in to the lost and found in the morning. Have a nice night, princess! I hear it's going to be a dark and stormy one,” Eva laughed while waving Sophie’s ID in the air.

“Wait!” Sophie pleaded as she desperately tried to open the door, but no matter how much she pushed against them, the doors refused to budge.

She froze as she felt a cold drop of rain fall down her neck. She looked up at the rumbling dark sky. It began to pour. Sophie clung to what little shelter could find at the side of the building. She took out her phone and tried to call Gwyneth, only to find that her screen had shattered completely from when she tripped. She looked around for a Warden but found none. She yanked out her earbuds and angrily threw them into her bag in frustration. Pathetically faint music leaked out of them. She leaned against the wall and sunk until she was sitting with her knees to her chest.

Despite its claims to security, the reality is that the school can’t keep everyone safe. With the majority of students coming from wealthy backgrounds, treating one too harshly could lead to the parents withdrawing their donations. Without those funds, the school would cease to function- something the academy avoided at all costs. As such, there was an unwritten rule that the wealthier the family, the more lenient the punishment. Though many students did not take advantage of this reality, after all attending the academy was a privilege. All except for Eva. Nobody really knows why, but the school would turn a blind eye to her many misdeeds. Some speculated that it was due to her role as one of the academy’s star athletes, others thought that she was secretly related to the headmaster. Regardless of the rumors, the reality was that she was cruel, spiteful, and above all, manipulative. She made a habit of harassing students that had unfortunately drawn her attention. Whether it be through blackmail, harassment, or slander, she would abuse her victim until they were forced to do whatever she wanted. No matter how much students tried to retaliate she always seemed to have the upper hand and the academy would turn the other way. As a result she had gained an infamous reputation amongst the freshmen and sophomores as someone to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately for Sophie, Eva seemed to be obsessed with making her time at the academy as miserable as possible. Eva’s persistence was so overwhelming that Sophie ended up being isolated from the rest of her class out of fear of Eva alone. The only person brave enough to still talk to her was her closest friend Gwyneth. She did her best to make sure that Sophie was rarely alone and felt safe. However, even that backfired. Eva had somehow managed to take a photo of Gwyneth that would lead to her expulsion if revealed to the public. Ever since then, Eva has hung that threat over Sophie’s head and she couldn’t let anything happen to her best friend. As such, Sophie felt so alone. She felt as if she was left to fend for herself against the clutches of a monster.

Sophie pressed her face against her knees, frustration weighing at her heart, and began to cry. Harsh winds began to pick up and slam waves of rain against her. Sophie took a shaky deep breath and slowly rose to her feet. She looked at her surroundings to try to find better shelter. Her gaze eventually lingered on the auditorium. She choked down a cough before grabbing her bag and heading towards the unfinished building.

. . .

The outside of the auditorium was a mix of moldy wood and peeling paint. Its towering size gave it the imposing essence of a Victorian mansion. Overgrown vines and unkept leaves dressed the entirety it’s walls. Sophie steeled herself as she approached the entrance. She stopped under a small awning that hung over the front doors where no rain seemed to fall. Lightning followed by thunder struck as she gripped her rain soaked skirt and wrung out the excess water. She shivered from the cold as she dried herself the best she could. When she finished, she leaned against the door.

“The dorms open up at 6 am, I’ll be able to get my ID back then,” She thought to herself as she stared at the hole riddled awning. “Maybe father will buy me a new phone, it was pretty old anyways.”

She grabbed her wrist and felt for her bracelet, her only reminder of warmth. A wave of sadness surged through her.

“Mom, Dad, I want to go back home,” She whispered to herself.

Chills spread out through her entire body as the door she braced herself against suddenly flung open with a sharp clang. She regained her balance and turned around. The door’s handle laid on the floor completely broken. The darkness of the auditorium greeted her with a gust of musty, but warm, air. She took a step back only to have the freezing rain fall on the back of her neck. Sophie looked at the entrance with an uneasy face. After a few moments she hesitantly walked in.

The building was much larger than it appeared. A few work-lights left turned on lit the auditorium with sheets of inconsistent light. Door frames to rooms that were used for the construction’s storage lined the walkways. The long hallways on either side of Sophie curved out of view. In front of her sat two large doors. She pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside. She found herself in the academy’s theater. Rows of weathered red fabric seats stepped down into the center stage. The stage’s walnut flooring was scuffed from years of use and subsequent neglect. Two large maroon curtains blocked the view to the backstage. A small podium sat at the front of it, its paint flaking off to the bare wood. She climbed onto the stage, its visage faintly lit by the work-lights that peered through the half opened doors.

Sophie stared at the seats in a silent awe. She imagined what the theater would look like if it were full of people and wondered why the academy refused to finish renovations. As she pondered, her gaze lowered to the podium. Her eyes narrowed. Faint scratches lined the bottom of it. She wiped a layer of dust off with her hand and revealed a string of faintly recognizable letters.

“Save me?” Sophie slowly read out loud.

“Heard.” A breathy and raspy voice that stretched out every syllable echoed through the theater. “You.”

The doors slammed shut, snuffing out the work-lights and leaving her in complete darkness.

“W-Who’s there?” Sophie stammered.

A bittersweet melody of hums snaked through the dark and into Sophie’s ears in reply.

“Show y-yourself,” Fear gripped at her heart, she clutched her school bag ready to swing it whatever was lurking in the darkness.

“Heard,” The voice repeated, this time more strained. “You.”

“T-This isn’t f-funny, please stop!” She said with a slight whimper.

“Save. You. You. Want. Me. To. Save...” The voice called from behind her causing her to jump in fear.

She swung her schoolbag wildly but it collided against nothing.

“Go. Somewhere. Safe. You. Want. To. Go. Somewhere. Safe. Somewhere. Home...” The voice grew louder.

“Stay away…” She said silently.

Her breaths grew frantic. An overwhelming dread welled in her gut. Panic coursed through her entire body.

“I. Can. Help.” The voice whispered.

A raspy strand of flesh wrapped around her feet before she could react. Her horrified scream was cut short as another strand that gagged her mouth shut. More and more threads wrapped around her body until she was stuck in an airtight cage. She shrieked in muffled terror as she was yanked behind the curtains. Lightning flashed illuminating the theater in a pang of white before decaying back into darkness. Silence followed. The night continued as normal as a stormy night could. Though a few freshmen swore that they heard strange noises coming from the old auditorium that night. Screams of struggles, pleads for help, and a blood curdling shriek to name a few. Of course nobody took it too seriously. It was just a rumor after all.

#oc #ow #writing #mystery #thriller #horror #anime inspired #female protagonist #heartfelt #cw bullying #First time using tumblr and writing online please be patient C:

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

82, Sternclay, NSFW if possible? Ty so much for all your great fics <3 -☀️

You’re welcome! I hope you enjoy the fill. It’s NSFW, and involves mating cycles, because my A03 stats suggest a lot of y’all like that.

82. you knock on my door at 2 in the morning because your very white cat got out and you need help trying to find them in the three feet of snow we have

He has no one but himself to blame.

Stern is always so careful about shutting the doors in this cabin, as the old hinges and worn frames can send them swinging open when coupled with a strong wind. He thought he had that same care when he came in with more firewood from the basement, which can only be accessed through by going out of the house and then down to the locked door.

Apparently not. At one, he went to check on Yeti and found the back door open and the faintest shape of feline paws leading into the darkness.

They’ve got two feet of snow on the ground, with another foot forecasted to fall by morning. And Yeti is sleek and snow-white.

He’s wandered the perimeter of the house, left her favorite blanket out on the covered porch, and tried in vain to follow the tracks, filled in by the falling snow. He’s been outside for an hour now, with no sign of her. Not even the jingle of her collar in the cold air. He’s shivering, but he can’t stop the search; Yeti is out here, cold and scared and it’s all his fault.

As he’s crunching through the snow, warm light spills onto the trees. His neighbors (a loose term out here) house. He couldn’t stand waking Barclay up to help him, but if he’s already awake…

Stern raps on the door, and four seconds later it opens, his neighbor looking like a lumberjack centerfold given life, even in his sweatpants and brown sweater.

“Joe? Is something wrong?”

“It’s Yeti, she got out without me noticing and I can’t find her, I’ve been out here an hour and there’s no sign. I, um, I know it’s a stretch but can you help me look for her? We can cover more ground that way.”

Barclay gives a small, worried smile as he nods, “Yeah, of course, lemme get enough on so that I don’t freeze and I’ll join you.”

He waves Stern inside, passes him a box of tissues before disappearing upstairs. Here he’d hoped the tears from his brief panic and self-blame spiral hadn’t left evidence. He’s good in a crisis, has handled much more stressful incidents with grace and calm. But for some reason every time he musters up those emotions, gult rips them to shreds. Yeti is his to look after, he’s supposed to keep her safe, and one careless move has her out in the woods, in freezing weather, with predators, or thin ice, or, or, or-

His brain is excellent at generating contingency plans on the fly, but tonight it directs that ability to making him think about all the bad things his error could cause.

“Okay, got my headlamp so I can keep my hands free. You got a light?”

Joe holds up his flashlight.

“C’mon, let’s go find the Yeti.” They set off side by side in the snow, “where do you want to look?”

“Fan out near the creek, I think. The snow isn’t as deep there, so she might have gone that way because it was easier to move.”

“She’s a climber, right? So how about this; we go on either side of the creek, you look on the ground and I’ll look in the trees?”

“That makes sense.”

It’s slow going, both of them being meticulous, shining their lights on every branch or under every bush. Stern’s always appreciated how careful Barclay is; he assumes it comes with a profession where being messy slows you down, but the first time he saw his well-organized kitchen his heart did a little dance of delight.

In the month and a half he’s lived here, the cook invites him over at least twice a week to try out a recipe. He works at Amnesty Lodge in the nearby town of Kepler, and spends some of his nights there. Still, he’s at his cabin often enough that Stern’s been able to invite him over some evenings. Though it’s odd he’s up so late on a work night.

“Do you not have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this week off. I have some vacation time and when I get back it’ll be the holiday break rush until New Years. I got caught up in the latest Agent X novel and didn’t see how late it was until you knocked. How about you, staying up researching again?”

“Yes. I was trying to keep the fire going because it’s nice to work in that little living room but, um, going out to get the wood is how she got out. If I’d just gone to bed-”

“Whoah, hey, none of that.” Barclay stops, turning to face him, “shit happens, even when you’re careful. This isn’t your fault, Joe.”

“I know. It still feels that way.” He starts forward again, feet freezing in spite of his snowboots (chosen for optimal weight to insulation ratio). Part of him wants to keep talking, because Barclay is interesting to talk to, his years playing “Lodge dad” giving him endless anecdotes and the ability to be honest without being cruel.

It helps that his baritone voice makes Stern think of brown sugar; rich, complex, just the right kind of sweet.

After a solid hour of searching, Stern is so cold he’s having trouble getting words out. Barclay sets a big hand on his shoulder, guiding them towards Sterns cabin.

“Joe, you’ve gotta take a break. Worried your lips are gonna go as blue as your eyes, and then tonight will really suck.”

“But I haven’t found her.”

“And you won’t if you freeze to death or get so chilled you can’t think straight. At least sleep for a few hours.”

Stern’s about to protest as they reach the door, but then his knees buckle and he slumps against a broad chest.

“I’ll do one more spin into the deeper woods on my way home, and leave some blankets out on the porch in case she makes her way to me. She’s smart, just like her owner; I think she’ll get home okay.”

“Right. Okay. We’ll be okay.”

Barclay hesitates mid motion, then pulls Stern into a hug. Stern is not small, and at Six feet zero inches he’s used to being the tallest person in a room. Barclay always feels like he’s dwarfing him, though right now that’s the most comforting sensation in the world.

“I’ll check by in the morning.”

“Thank you, for everything.” He mumbles into Barclay’s scarf.

“Any time, Joe.”

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

Barclay waits until Joe is inside and the upstairs light switches on to leave the back porch. God, it’s so fucking cold tonight. He doesn’t blame Yeti for getting curious, but she could’ve picked a less awful time to do it.

He’s glad the other man came to him for help; he hates the idea of Joe out here alone and stressed, searching carefully and kicking himself the whole time. He’s glad Joe took the suggestion to sleep.

He’s glad the other man came to be his neighbor.

Ironically, they’d met when Joe came over and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. The dark-haired man was short on what he needed to cook, and Barclay was happy to supply it. It’s not everyday a cute guy asked him for some sugar.

They ran across each other in town, and Joe even came to eat at the Lodge, usually at off hours where Barclay had a chance to talk. That’s how he learned Joe was here to research a recent Bigfoot sighting.

“I used to be in the FBI, investigating the same thing. Then I got so frustrated, no one really believed in the possibility of unknown creatures, and the few who did saw them as having some sort of use to the department of defense. Great idea, find something so rare it’s existence is unproven, and then lock it away or blow it up.” The sip of coffee is more aggressive than usual.

“Won’t they get mad if you spill their secrets?” It was only half a joke.

“I doubt it. They weren’t too interested in my theories when I worked there; odds are they’ll keep an eye on me a little while and then ignore me. Unless I find Bigfoot, of course, in which case they may want me back. I’m not interested, from now on I monster hunt in the name of science.”

Barclay hopes Stern never finds Bigfoot and stays in his cabin, writing and researching and consulting and coming over to Barclay’s for dinner twice a week. He has a whole menu in his mind titled, “foods for seducing Joe” that he’s going to whip out in the next few weeks, he swears it.

He’s been swearing it for two weeks.

Joe is sophisticated, smart, has really good taste in books and food, and Barclay feels so listened to when they talk. Barclay starts blushing whenever Joe smiles at him, which would be embarrassing except Joe does the same thing whenever Barclay drops his voice a little. Besides, he likes it when Joe smiles.

Barclay would give anything to make Joe smile tonight. Which is why he’s tromping into the spot where they lost the last of Yeti’s footprints. He stands, listening for any sign of human life.

Then he slips the woven bracelet off his hand, and his foot-prints almost double in size.

It’s a bad idea, he’s not all that far from other houses or the road, but in this form his sense of smell is twice as strong and his night-vision a bit sharper. It’s also the reason he’s taking this week off work. Yes, he likes to rest up before the winter rush; but his heat, which comes ever fourteen years, is due in the next few days. He’s actually a little worried turning into his Sylph self will make his brain fuzzy enough to forget his mission. So he reminds himself, as he tromps through the growing blizzard, that he is doing this for the person he’d most like to impress in this world, and that does the trick.

A whiff of the same, non-human scent he stole a noseful of when hugging Joe catches his attention. He follows it to a disused burrow, gets down on his belly, and finds reflective eyes blinking back at him.

The animal hisses.

“Man, please be Yeti and not a bobcat. Duck’s gonna fucking kill me if I harass the wildlife.” He reaches into the burrow and hears a telltale jingle. Yeti, surrendering to her fate, goes limp in his hold. When he puts her against his chest she chirps, curiously sniffing him. As soon as the bracelet is on she blinks once, then purrs as he bundles her into his coat. She’s cold and damp, but she’s in one piece.

“C’mon cousin, let’s get you home.”

The lights are all still one, and the front door is wedged open the exact amount a cat would need to get inside. He steps in, kicks the wedge free and shuts the door. The fire is low, and there’s no sound of anyone moving around.

“Joe? Whoa, careful Yeti, I know you wanna get warm but we should show him your okay.”

“Mew!” Yeti bites the fringe of his scarf.

He tries again, “Joe, you still up? Got someone for you?”

A scuff and groan from the kitchen, “Huh? Oh, shit, I fell asleep, one second”

Yeti shifts her focus while Barclay is distracted. In one graceful leap she rips his bracelet away, lands, and bounds to the kitchen.

“Yeti! Thank the lord, there you are my little cryptid, I was so worried about you, don’t ever do that again, thank god you’re okay.” Joe’s voice goes muffled, as if he’s holding the cat to his face and talking into her fur. Barclay is frozen, not wanting to be seen but even less wanting to have Joe spot Bigfoot dashing into the trees.

“What do you have--Yeti, it’s rude to take things from the man who saved you from being-” Joe rounds the corner, cat in his arms, and gasps. Yeti, uninterested in the unfolding drama, tumps to the floor and scampers upstairs. Joe’s hands fly over his mouth the instant she’s no longer in them.

“Hey” Barclay waves.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Bigfoot.”

“What the fuck?” Joe isn’t moving, and Barclay decides now is his best chance.

“I’m just, uh, gonna go get my bracelet back.”

“No, you’re going to explain everything.”

“I really, really can’t, some of it isn’t mine to explain. I mean, uh, I can explain some bits later-” He creeps toward the stairs. Joe steps in front of him.

“Barclay, this can’t wait. You, you’ve been him the whole time, my entire world view is simultaneously being proven and flipped over, would you please just talk to me?”

“Mew?” Yeti is halfway down the stairs, watching them with the bracelet still in her mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Joe reaches up and out, plucking it from her teeth.

“You’re not getting this back until you explain.”

“Babe, please, I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No, wait, what did you call me?”

“Uhhhh” Barclay lunges for the bracelet instead of answering. Stern twists out of the way, sprinting for the kitchen. Barclay gets an arm around his waist and yanks backwards, sending them both over the back of the couch. Joe elbows him and scrambles up. Barclay only just manages to block him from going up the stairs, stalks him back onto the rug and tackles him. It succeeds in bringing the man down and keeping him pinned.

It also sends the bracelet flying onto the floor, where Yeti snatches it up and disappears up the staircase.

Barclay realizes he’s growling, stops so that he won’t frighten Joe, only for it to start up again as a reflex.

“Barclay, I swear, if you hurt my cat-”

“I won’t, I, that’s what not that noise is for. Or, uh, I mean I’m pissed you played keep-away with something I need, but I also have some bad news about Sy--uh, Bigfoot biology. Uh, so, first thing: I have a heat, which is why I was trying to stay away from people. Second thing: my kind uses a very intense game of, uh, chase as part of courtship.”

Stern shifts his thigh, “That explains what I’m feeling.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Look, can you go get the bracelet and then we can, like, have some tea and talk about this? I’m sorry, I feel so bad for making you deal with this.” The growl rumbles up again. He gears up another apology when he notices Joe’s blue eyes getting wider.

“Is this, um, only because of your heat? I mean, if you tackled some passerby, would the same thing be happening?”

“No.” Barclay squeaks.

“Then I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, big guy.” He grinds his thigh up, making Barclay yip and pin him to the rug while touching as little of him as possible.

“Joe, this doesn’t make me like, mindless or anything, but if you say you want this you are signing up for several days of as much fucking as I can manage.”

“I don’t have any deadlines.” Joe’s eyes remain fixed on Barclays crotch.

“I’m serious, if you say stop I will, but if you don’t you won’t be able to get out of bed for days. And, uh, I can put my disguise back on, you don’t have to fuck me like this, I know it’s weird.”

“Barclay, I built my life’s work on weird.” Joe pets his arm.

“Yeah but not on fucking it.”

“How do you know? Lots of my time with the UP is classified.”

“Joe…” it’s a warning, the heat in his brain suggesting a dozen things to do so the human can’t be touched by another cryptid ever again.

“I want you, Barclay. In both forms. As long as you promise we’ll talk after, I’m okay with doing this first.”

“I promise”

“Good, because otherwise I was going out to see if there’s another bigfoot in the area who was interested.” Joe smiles, moves to pull off his shirt. He doesn’t get to; Barclay snarls possessively and drops onto him, biting his neck and ripping his clothing into a flurry of fabric scraps. The human moans, gasps when Barclay makes short work of his own pants and reveals what’s waiting beneath. Barclay doesn’t give him time to process, shoves his legs as far apart as they’ll go, and finally sinks into him.

“JesusfuckingCHRIST, ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggodAH!”

His cock is more thick than long, splitting the human open while bottoming out on every thrust. Joe’s fingers knot into the rug, his words morph into sharp, ecstatic sounds. Every creature in the forest can probably hear him.

Barclay clamps his hand down over the humans mouth, “shut up babe, don’t want anyone else in the woods getting any ideas about how good a fuck you are. You’re fucking mine.”

A muffled moan and, when he pulls his hand back, “Y-you really think I, fuck, I can keep quiet when you fuck me like this?”

“Thought they taught FBI agents discipline” he drags his claws across Joe’s chest, relishing the shaky, happy noise that gets him.

“There’s discipline and, AAHnnn, there’s inhuman restraint.”

Barclay slams the hand down again and growls, pleased, when Joe’s posture turns submissive.

“Here’s the deal; you keep quiet and take it like a good mate, and after I cum in you, can be as loud as you fucking want, because anyone who gets near you’ll know belong to me. I mean” he jerks his hips, “they’ll be able to tell that from the fact I’m balls-deep in you too, babe.”

Joe nods, replaces Barclays hand with his own as the Sylph hooks his knees over his shoulders. The next minute goes in a heat haze, his brain and body united in the desire to cum in Joe, to claim him, while the human stifles his screams and grows slicker with each thrust.

He tips his head back with a howlgrowlpurr as he cums, leaving faint clawmarks in Joe’s legs as he holds them open to make sure he takes every bit.

“Lord almighty” Joe’s hand falls to the floor, “that, that was amazing, why on earth were you acting like this isn’t something I’d waaAAAAAntohgod.” He whimpers as Barclay starts up again, fucking his cum up into him.

“Shoulda known you’d like it; you’re perfect, Joe.”

A blush and a shy moan, and he leans down to kiss him gently.

“You are. You’re the perfect man, the perfect mate, and we are gonna have so much fucking fun together.”

“And fun fucking?” He looks pleased with the wordplay.

He snorts, “Glad to know that sense of humor sticks around when I’m filling you up, oh, ohfuckyeah” another orgasm hits, milder this time.

“Are they near constant when you’re in heat?” Joe eyes the trail of cum sliding back down Barclay’s cock.

“No, just easy to have. So” he flips the human over, squeezing his ass appreciatively, “let’s try it from behind this time; wanna find out how it feels to cum in you while I get you off.” He slips his hand over Joe’s thigh and between his legs, “and you better fucking do it too, of I’ll drag you outside and fuck you against a tree so anyone passing by can see how fucking eager you are for me.”

“Please, we’ve spent so much time outside tonight.”

He thinks as kisses along Joe’s shoulders, “You’re right. I’ll fuck you against the door instead.”

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

When Stern wakes up, snow is falling in the grey light and his clock reads 2:30 P.M. Downstairs there’s a homey clink of pots and pans, and the smell of coffee winds it’s way to him.

He fell asleep around five, he thinks, when the cumulative exhaustion of his day overpowered the thrill of being with Barclay. Honestly, he’d have kept going, but Barclay was adamant he rest. So they finished with him fucking Stern’s slack, sleepy mouth, before the cryptid bundled him into bed and snuggled up to him with those deep, rumbling purrs that Stern now loves.

The bracelet is gone from the nightstand (Yeti didn’t eat it, thank god), so the chef must be making breakfast in his human form. Now would be a good time to go down and talk.

“Mew” A weight lands on his chest as Yeti kneads the blankets, purring when he reaches you and rubs her head.

“You know, little monster, this almost makes the heart attack you gave me worth it.”

“Mew?” The cat stares hopefully out the windows.

“Not a chance. I can’t take that stress again. Besides” he scoops her up, “we need to unbox that new toy I ordered. Barclay and I need some time to ourselves today.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #winter fills #taz amnesty

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

could you write something for trans pepper coming out to tony please?

authors note: i am not an expert, nor am i trans. please let me know if i have written anything wrong/harmful, and i’ll take it down

When Pepper started at Stark Industries, she told herself that she would not get too involved. She was here to do her job, and nothing else. She had caused “problems” at her last job, and in return they had caused problems for her as well.

(Sitting by herself at the cafeteria, fielding uncomfortable messages, and correcting intentionally wrong emails had been...exhausting. Mentally and physically.)

But this? No, this can’t go on.

The math is all wrong. It’s going to cost the company about a million dollars if she lets it pass, and while she’s sure that it could be replaced easily in a day, that’s the kind of thing that gets you fired. And when employers look at your resume and see that you were terminated from the highest-ranking job to have for an accountant, a prestigious company that takes pride in accurate numbers and satisfied employees?

Well...it doesn’t look too hot.

So she brings it up. Her boss isn’t exactly happy with her. She thinks the numbers were probably intentional.

“I’ve been doing this for years, I think I know a little bit more than you, young lady,” he scowls.

Pepper’s not exactly fazed at the dismissive remark.

“Then I’m sure that you’ll know that your math is wrong. It’d be better to double-check it and be right and have me be in the wrong than not check it and be fired.”

He doesn’t check it.

But when he’s called into Mr. Stark’s office, he must have mentioned her name.

He put the blame on her.

Pepper cannot believe it as she’s called in.

“So, Mark tells me that you did math wrong.”

“I didn’t. I triple-checked it, and kept the receipt tape as proof.”

“Oh, I know. Mark can’t do math for shit, but he hates when people tell him. But I’m glad you did, because it made me realize I can’t have someone who’s so insecure that when someone tells them to double-check it and they don’t because they want to be right, that...I don’t know what I was doing. Anyways, he’s fired.”

Pepper blinks.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Also, I’m reading your file. Virginia? Did your parents hate you?”

“Not the worst name I’ve been given,” Pepper says smoothly.

“Hm. Says here that you go by Pepper. I like that.”

“Thank you, chose it myself and everything.”

“And everything?” Tony asks, smiling. “I like that.”

Four months later, she’s in the break room when Tony’s personal assistant quits on the spot after he’s late for the third time in a week.

“I can’t fucking do this!” He screeches. “I’m done.”

Pepper’s not sure why she goes into Jason’s office and just looks at the schedule.

She calls his cell.

“Jason, seriously, I told you to quit bothering me.”

“It’s Pepper. Get your ass over here for your meeting, the board directors are about an inch away from reinstating Obadiah.”

“And that would be a bad thing...why?”

“You want your stock points to drop because you’re proving that you can’t be trusted to run a company?”

“I’ll be there.”

It’s the fastest time that Tony makes it into the office, by the way. Pepper’s only slightly proud.

She’s terrified when he offers her a position as a personal assistant. She’ll be in the limelight, people paying attention to her.

She modifies her contracts: no one is allowed to access any sort of personal information. At all. It has to be locked in a vault, only key is one that she and Tony know about.

“Anything I should know about?”

“Um. No.”

“Oh. Okay. As long as you aren’t secretly running any illegal thing out of one of the floors, then be my guest. But if you are, let me know. Petra in accounting--new hire, you wouldn’t know them--is secretly reselling wedding cakes. I think. Maybe the wedding cakes was a bad lie. Hell. But welcome aboard!”

Wrangling Tony is a lot like dealing with a goldfish. He’s a genius; she sees that when she walks into his house and sees about seven different projects lying around, and at least two papers that have notes about redoing a filtration system for drinking water.

He is also incredibly stupid.

“You have fifteen coffee cups out.”

“Impossible, I don’t own that many!”

“Aw, did you not take counting classes in preschool?”

Tony likes her. A lot. She’s got a bite of wit, no-bullshit when it comes to business, and never misses a beat. She also has a killer sense of style, and is the one who makes sure he’s not wearing a weird mixture of jeans and a sport coat.

“No.”

“Come on, it’s not like fashion actually matters that much. Well, not to me.”

“It should. You should be the most creatively dressed male out there, and you’re not. A black suit? God, that’s...that’s sad. No, I ordered you a blue silk suit. Embroidered with flowers all over, matching shoes with inverted colors. Come on. In you go.”

“Ugh.”

(His outfit is a smashing success, by the way. They ask who his stylist is, and he just says “Oh, my personal assistant said she would bury me in my garden if I wore a black suit. I would’ve dug it myself, looking on this now.”)

She does not tell him for a long time. At all. Because people are...weird about it. Weird questions, weird statements, and compliments so backhanded she doesn’t like to call them compliments.

But at some point, she needs to tell him. Or she wants to. She wants to, she doesn’t have to. Yeah.

Okay. So she’s in love with him. A tiny bit.

He makes her coffee. Every morning. Creamer goes into the mug first, then coffee. That’s the only way she takes it.

He compliments her a lot, and she knows that this shouldn’t be a reason that love qualifies but it’s nice to hear. He also bought her a very expensive pair of shoes.

Pepper honestly does want to tell him. She also does not want to lose her job, however. So she needs to gauge the situation. Maybe talk to some of her girlfriends, see what’s up.

Well then her boss goes missing for months and comes back and obviously you can’t tell someone you’re in love with them after they come back with an electromagnetic device in their chest. That’s just crazy.

He came back...different. New circumstances, new outlook on life. She relates a tiny little bit.

She buys herself a beautiful blue dress. He gives her his credit card, tells her to buy herself something nice, and goddammit she’s never been one to really disobey her boss. (Just bend some rules. Or create new ones that negate the old ones.)

She curls her hair and only curses eight times, which is actually pretty good. Her usual amount of cursing per-curling-session is about eighty-two.

He looks at her like she’s an angel, and she thinks...yeah. Okay. She’ll tell him that she’s in love with him.

Well then his uncle decides to attempt to kill him. God, what a mood killer. She hates this.

They’re laying down in his house on the patio, and he’s sipping on a smoothie that she’s honestly sure is 100% gross, and he turns to her.

“Would you ever want to go on a date with me?”

Pepper blinks.

“Yes,” she says without skipping a beat. “But we need to have a discussion before I dedicate myself to this cause.”

“What am I, a Salvation Army donation bin?”

“Maybe.”

“Then dinner-and-discussion tonight. Not a date. Just...talking.”

She’s nervous. She’s put her hair up so that she won’t run her fingers through it, but now she’s just fidgeting with her necklace and bracelet.

Tony looks nice. He’s in a casual graphic tee and old jeans that are older than she actually knew they could hold together. She is in old shorts and a tank top and yeah it’s casual but it’s also nice and wow she’s really over-thought this.

“So, what are your concerns?” Tony says. Getting to the point straight-away, that’s always his move. Pepper gulps.

“You mind if I get water?”

“Not at all.”

She sips on water.

“My concern is that I’m transgender and you need to know that before we pursue anything.”

Tony blinks.

“Um. Okay. Was not expecting that right out. I was more thinking you would have a problem with my new armor and Rhodey and I being immature when he visits and also how much time I spend on inventing.”

“Well yeah, those too. But I deal with those all the time. But I’m also concerned about you pissing off the government and them sending secret agents to kill us.”

Jarvis cuts in smoothly.

“I am afraid, Miss Potts, that they wouldn’t make it two hundred feet of this current residence. Would you like me to update security protocols at other residences around the globe?”

“You can do that?” Pepper asks.

“Yes, Miss Potts.”

“Please do update, thank you.”

Tony grins, looking at her. The same way. Which is kind of exhilarating, all things considered.

“You amaze me. J, remind me that if Pep and I break up, I need to build a bunker that could withstand a nuclear war.”

“I will not remind you of that, as I’m sure it will be on you,” Jarvis remarks.

Pepper snorts.

“I wasn’t aware that I was going to turn my AI against myself,” Tony sighs. “Such is life.”

Pepper grins. He squeezes her hand.

“You want to celebrate this with wine? I’m sure tomorrow you’ll have me signing so many forms for workplace relationships that I’ll cry by two p.m.”

“Make that one p.m., and you’ll be fine you big baby,” Pepper teases.

Tony blows her a kiss as he gets up from the couch.

“Thank you. For telling me. I know that that’s hard to tell people. Discuss more of it later, or now?”

“Mm, later. It’s late at night, I’m tired.”

“Gotcha. You want red or white tonight?”

“...Red.”

Tony grins, getting out the wine glasses. He pours carefully and expertly, and raises his. They clink their glasses together.

“Cheers to more success. For the both of us.”

Pepper grins softly.

“For success.”

#i was hesitant writing this #so if there is a problem here #or if i wrote something that is harmful/hurtful: PLEASE let me know #transphobia tw #lovelyirony writes #i do like this headcanon a lot tho #i think it's very nice :)#trans!pepper #pepper potts #tony stark #pepperony #anyways i just like that pepper is immediately like 'WELL CALLING YOU ON YOUR BULLSHIT'#and then tony's like 'omg ur the love of my life!'

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prettyboyreid · 3 years

Text

the story

a girl and a boy

(a boy and a boy) (me and my friend) (the way the world works)

OC!Potter x Marauders, OC!Potter x Nephew!Harry

As Harry Potter gets older, his aunt makes sure he never forgets about his parents or his uncles.

Based on the song The Story by Conan Gray

Warnings: Brief mentions of death

Word Count: 5,287

“Aunt Lucy, Aunt Lucy!” Harry called out from his bedroom, his large, round glasses making his eyes look much wider than they already were.

Lucy bound up the stairs quickly from her spot on the loveseat in the living room, smiling softly down at the seven-year-old boy in his pale blue pajama set.

“Are you all ready for bed, then?” she asked, her hands resting on her hips as she looked down at the young boy.

Her nephew shook his head quickly, squeezing his stuffed hippogriff against his chest as he looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Can we play for a little longer? Me and Witherwings wanted you to play hide and seek with us!” Harry protested, the thick black glasses identical to his father’s sliding down the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

“Witherwings and I,” she corrected him, shaking her head softly at his proposal before kneeling down to his height. “As much fun as that would be, you have to go to bed, bubs. We’re going to visit Uncle Moony tomorrow, so we have to get up early so we can see him,” she reminded him, sighing softly as he frowned up at her.

He folded his arms across his chest, his stuffed creature tucked under his arm as he tried to silently persuade his godmother with his infamous puppy dog eyes. “Just one game, Aunt Lucy? Pretty please?” he begged, going so far as to sticking his bottom lip out pleadingly.

However, Lucy shook her head yet again. “Sorry, Harry,” she said, leaning around the boy and pulling back the maroon covers and sheets on his bed. “But I’m sure Uncle Moony would love to play hide and seek with us tomorrow,” she added, picking up her young godson and setting him in his bed.

At the idea of playing with his favorite uncle in what would now be a few mere hours, his face lit up brightly as he pulled the comforter over his short legs and torso. “Can you at least read me a bedtime story?” he asked, tucking in the grey hippogriff under the covers alongside himself.

Lucy gave him a soft smile, moving up to sit on the edge of the double bed covered in Gryffindor Quidditch sheets and blankets. He had had this set when he first moved from a crib into a real bed, and to this day they were his favorite sheets to sleep with.

“How about I tell you a story instead?” she asked, smiling a little bit as he grinned brightly at her suggestion and nodded quickly.

“Alright then,” she said, pushing some of his short hair out of his face as she spoke. “Let me tell you a story… about a boy and a girl,” she started, grinning a bit when her curious nephew interrupted her.

“What were their names?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly to the side as he talked.

Lucy just smiled softly and patiently at his question, pretending to think for a moment before looking back down at Harry. “James and Lily,” she told him, grinning as the young boy smiled brightly.

“They’re my favorite!” he exclaimed, squeezing his small fist down on one of his hippogriff’s plush wings.

Every since Lucy Potter had gained custody of her nephew and godson when he was barely a year old, she always did her best to tell him stories of his parents; she wanted to make sure he would never forget them even if he didn’t fully comprehend that the main characters in her dramatic retellings were her late brother and sister-in-law. As far as Harry knew and understood, James and Lily were some of his aunt's good friends from her seven years at Hogwarts. One day, though, when he would be old enough to really understand what had happened in Godric’s Hollow on Halloween night in 1981, she would explain to him how important James and Lily really were, not just to her, but to him as well.

“I’ve got to warn you, though: it’s kind of short and kind of boring -” she started, smiling yet again as her nephew giggled at her words. “-But the end is a whirl.”

“You say that every time!” Harry said between short fits of uncontrollable laughter, holding tightly onto his stuffed creature as he looked up to his godmother expectantly.

She rolled her eyes in a playful and almost mocking way, placing her hands on her hips. “Can I continue with the story now?” she teased, grinning when the young boy nodded quickly up to her with bright eyes.

“Thanks, bubs,” she said, ruffling up his hair slightly before leaning back into her sitting position. “

“This story starts in my sixth year at Hogwarts, a few weeks after we had come back from Christmas break…”

-x-x-x-

“Merlin, James, slow down! You’re gonna kill us!” Lucy shouted over the cold, whipping wind blowing through her hair, squeezing tightly onto her brother’s middle as she ignored his roaring laughter.

“Come on, Lu, lighten up!” he called out to her over his shoulder, though he slowly began to pull the front of his Firebolt broomstick upwards and carefully landing onto the frosted over grassy courtyard.

“You alright there, Little Prongs? You look a little sick,” Sirius asked with a mischievous grin, which only earned him a middle finger from the youngest Potter twin.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” she frowned, scuttering off the freshly polished broom and running her fingers back through her now-knotted hair. “And I’m fine. But I am never getting on a broom with my brother ever again.”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Is someone afraid of flying?” James asked her teasingly, nudging his slightly younger sister’s arm playfully.

“No! I’m afraid of flying with you,” she protested, folding her arms across her chest. “You don’t always have to fly as if you’ve just seen the Snitch, you know,” she reminded him.

“Sorry you can’t handle my flying, Lu,” he joked, winking down playfully at his twin before he suddenly froze up. None of the Marauders, nor his sister, needed to ask what had just happened.

“How-”

“Your hair looks fine, your tie is perfectly crooked, and I’m positive you don’t need to worry about how your breath smells,” Remus assured him, not looking up from his worn-down copy of Dark Arts Defense. James frowned at his final answer but nodded nonetheless, pushing his fingers back through his curls despite what Remus had just said before leaning around his friends and sister with a grin.

“Evans!” he called out, waving a bit to the red-headed Gryffindor girl headed their way. She was dressed much more casually than the average Hogwarts student - she was sporting a pair of cuffed mom jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt with the golden Gryffindor crest embossed on the front of it, covered in a large jean jacket. Usually, the second her classes ended, Lily Evans would switch from her perfect Prefect robes and into her much more comfortable Muggle clothes.

Lily looked away from her conversation with Marlene McKinnon at the sound of her last name ringing throughout the spacious courtyard. Surprisingly, she smiled when she had spotted James. Lucy could almost swear she saw her blush, too.

She said something to Marlene quickly before walking towards the group of four Gryffindor boys and one Slytherin girl. She gave a warm greeting to the five students before turning to the eldest of the Potter twins. “You called, Potter?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she spoke, a thin library book pressed between her arms and shirt.

James nodded softly, almost sheepishly, in response, leaning slightly against his broomstick before he lost balance, seemingly forgetting it wasn’t leaning against a wall, and stumbled slightly. Lily rolled her eyes almost affectionately at the sight of him still trying to show off after six years, while the boys and James’ sister stifled their laughter through not-so-subtle coughs. James hit Sirius and Peter’s arms, since they were the closest to him, before nodding again.

“Yeah, I just- I just wanted to make sure you were still on for the Three Broomsticks after classes on Friday?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly deeper than it usually was. Lucy and Sirius each raised an eyebrow at James’ question, exchanging a quick look before they both looked to Lily for her response. The only people who appeared unphased by the question were Lily and Remus.

The redhead nodded quickly in response, giving him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. I get out of potions around three, then I can just meet you in the common room?” she suggested, tilting her head to the side in the same way her son would in a few years, fiddling with a bracelet resting on her wrist.

“Sure! I-uh, I mean, uh, yeah, sure. That… that sounds perfect, Evans,” James said, grinning nearly from ear-to-ear. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning, like he had just gotten everything he had ever asked for in his entire life.

Lily smiled a little as well, except she looked like she was holding back more emotions that the eldest Potter had. “Great, I’ll see you then, Potter,” she said, giving a small wave to the rest of the group. “Bye, boys. Bye, Lucy,” she said, nodding to them before heading back towards her fellow Gryffindor friend.

“See you then, Evans!” James called out after her, grinning happily for a brief moment until one of his friends opened their big mouth.

“Oh, bye, Evans! I’ll see you Friday, Evans! I would move the entire castle across the ocean just to see you smile, Evans!” Sirius cried out dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest to add a bit of dramatic effect. James shoved him a bit, which only caused Sirius to laugh loudly.

“Mate, when were you gonna tell us you finally asked her out?” Peter spoke up, standing slightly behind Sirius so as to not get swatted by James again.

“After it happened,” he said bluntly, leaning down and grabbing his broom and pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “But, I needed an excuse to talk to her, and that was the only thing I could think of, so you lot had to find out a bit sooner.”

“How come Moony got to know before your own sister? Your literal other half? That doesn’t seem very fair,” Lucy frowned, following behind the boys as they started to head inside the castle to wash up before dinner.

“Because the only advice you would give me is threatening to hex me if I didn’t ask her out in twenty-four hours,” James said, glaring playfully back at his sister. “Rem gives actual advice, and actually helps.”

“I bet I could give you great advice. Like, you should just take her up to the dorm and f-”

“Shut up, Sirius.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Prongs, sir.”

Remus just rolled his eyes at the two of them, pushing open the large castle doors with the flick of his wand and leading them all towards the Gryffindor tower. “You’ll be fine, just try not to call her ‘Evans’ every five seconds,” he told him, shoving his free hand in the pocket of his cardigan as he walked.

“And you should bring her flowers. Actual flowers, not some quills you transfigured into flowers like you did for Mother’s Day,” Lucy added, giving him a playfully wicked grin before pausing outside the portrait of the Fat Lady with the boys.

The four of them looked back at her, all of them giving her a gentle parting smile. “We still studying in the library tonight after dinner? If I fail my Divination exam James is gonna make me sleep in the Owlery and I’ll have to take it again next year,” Sirius asked, giving her an almost pleading look as he spoke.

Lucy chuckled, but nodded gently. “Yeah, just don’t be late again or I’ll curse all of your quills so you can’t write down anything correct,” she warned, smiling a bit as she saw his wide grin.

“You’re the best, Little Prongs.”

“Hey, Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

-x-x-x-

“That was actually boring this time,” Harry said to his aunt with a small pout, folding his arms across his chest, his hippogriff dangling by his wing from his tiny fist.

Lucy smiled patiently, pushing some hair out of his face again, a small twinge bursting her heart as her eyes briefly landed on his lightning bolt scar in the center of his forehead. “It’s not the end of the story, bug,” she told her nephew, kissing the top of his head gently.

“Is it gonna get better?” he asked, tilting his head to the side so his curly brown hair fell across his forehead once again.

Lucy nodded, folding her hands together in her lap. “I think so. This one has Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Wormtail when they’re in their animagus form,” she told him, which caused the young boy to perk up quickly.

“Really?” he asked.

Lucy nodded.

“When am I gonna see Uncle Padfoot as a dog again?” he asked her curiously.

Lucy’s expression dropped a bit, but she smiled again quickly and hoped Harry hadn’t noticed her slight falter. “How about I finish the story, yeah?” she asked. Harry just nodded, seemingly forgetting about his oh-so-important question that occupied his mind moments before and that he hadn’t received a proper answer to it.

“Alright, so after our last class on that Friday, I met Uncles Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail down in the Courtyard…”

-x-x-x-

“You’re positive they left already?” Sirius asked Remus, leaning against one of the old stone pillars set up throughout the courtyard.

Remus nodded, seemingly uninterested in the whole situation that was happening at the moment. “Yes, Marlene saw them heading out towards Hogsmeade just before we got here,” he reiterated, playing with the old, slightly unwound sleeves of his cable knit sweater. Sirius and Peter nodded, grinning widely at the slightly mischievous plan that was now officially underway.

“So, you guys know what you have to do, correct?” Peter asked, wringing his hands out a bit as he spoke. Whenever James wasn’t around, Peter stepped up to the occasion to be the one to worry about whether or not every little detail was perfectly in place. Remus would, but he honestly wasn’t as invested in the pranks and plans as the rest of the Marauders.

“Yes, Pete,” Lucy told him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Rem and I are gonna go in and sit at a booth in the back corner, and you two will be across the street, watching to make sure everything goes right,” she explained to him again. Peter nodded, looking slightly relieved with her answer.

“Well, that is just fantastic! Can you two pretend you’re in love now so it’ll be more convincing you’re on a date? I’ll even let you kiss him to sell it, Little Prongs,” Sirius said, but he put his hands up in surrendered defense when Lucy reached for her wand. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Merlin, you’re a tough crowd,” he muttered, nodding towards the other end of the courtyard before he began to lead them all down towards the small village of Hogsmeade.

Lucy and Remus trailed behind a bit as Sirius and Peter took the lead, morphing into a large black dog and a small rat once they were a little ways off from the school grounds and they were positive no one was around. Wormtail quickly scuttered up onto Padfoot’s back, Remus and Lucy being almost positive his tiny hands were gripping for dear life onto the shaggy black fur as he started running towards Hogsmeade.

“How pissed do you think James is gonna be when he realizes what’s happening?” Lucy asked Remus curiously, glancing up at the much taller boy as she spoke. He simply shrugged, a small grin prickling at the sides of his mouth. Despite what people usually thought of Remus, that being that he doesn’t like pranks and separates himself from those that the rest of the Marauders pulled, he was almost always up for, or even the mastermind, behind some of their best mischief.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to ram at us as Prongs the second Lily left,” he said, chuckling a bit at the thought of it. Lucy grinned as well, now hoping that that would be the outcome.

They walked the rest of the short trip in silence, looking around at the different birds or creatures that poked out of the forest as they walked past. Once they got to Hogsmeade, the two of them moved a little closer to each other, and started making as much random small talk as possible. As they checked to make sure a black dog and a rat were across from the Three Broomsticks before they entered, they were talking about the last prank that they had pulled on one Severus Snape.

“I still can’t believe you managed to mess up his potion that badly. What the hell did you even add to it?” Remus asked, holding the door open for Lucy before leading her off towards the back of the small pub. They passed by James and Lily as they walked past, James glancing up at them with a slight glare for a brief moment before he quickly turned his attention back to his date. Lucy and Remus grinned a little bit, scooting into a booth in the back of the room.

“I just grabbed some old Aconite from one of Slughorn’s expired ingredients piles. You’d think the Potions Master would notice the difference between different types of plants,” Lucy said smugly, glancing across the room silently to her brother. “He looks like a little kid. What a dork.”

Remus stifled a small chuckle at Lucy’s comment, glancing out the window for a moment. “I’ll go get some butterbeers. Extra ginger on yours, right?” he asked, standing up from his seat. She nodded with a grin, leaning back into the booth as she watched Remus head over towards the bar.

She kept an eye on her brother and Lily, doing her best to not make it too obvious while also trying not to laugh. James wasn’t acting as he usually was; his posture was as close to perfect as it could get, and he kept playing with the collar of his shirt when he wasn’t talking - he also wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. It was interesting for her to see her brother in this sort of situation.

Remus came back a few minutes later, setting the glass mugs down on the table before sliding into the booth next to Lucy. “Could you hear anything they’re saying?” she asked him, taking a sip of the foamy, warm drink as she leaned back into the poorly cushioned seat.

He nodded gently, sipping his drink slowly as well before glancing out the window as well. “I think they were talking about Quidditch. It sounded like he was just explaining it a bit more thoroughly to her,” he said with a shrug, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m surprised he isn’t talking more, though. I think he’s gone through two mugs so far,” Remus confessed to her, glancing to one of his best friends for a moment before looking back at Lucy.

Lucy looked around him for a brief moment, and she grinned widely. She noticed the tips of her brother’s ears turning red, and his gaze averting from his date to the large window at the front of the pub.

“You alright, Potter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Remus and Lucy could hear Lily from their seats, and Lucy was doing her best to hide her face and laughter in the werewolf’s cable knit sweater sleeve.

“No- I mean, yeah, yeah, I’m good. I just- I saw a dog that reminded me of a dog my sister brought home once,” James said quickly, shaking his head a bit as if to rid his head of the two animals across the cobblestone street watching him and his date intently.

Remus chuckled softly, doing his best to hide himself behind his mug of butterbeer. “He’s got to know what we’re up to by now,” Lucy whispered up to him through giggles, running her hands back through her hair before looking back to Remus.

“He’d have to be bloody stupid if he didn’t piece it all together by now,” he grinned, folding his arms across his chest proudly. “He’s daft sometimes, but I know he knows what Padfoot and Wormtail look like at this point.”

“That’s fair,” she grinned, taking another sip of her warm drink as they talked. She glanced back over at her brother again, unable to hide her small smile when she noticed how happy he had looked. “Do you think he’s gonna ask her to be his girlfriend by the end of their date or is he going to chicken out and wait three more dates?” Lucy asked curiously, leaning back into her seat a little bit.

Remus simply shrugged, his fingertips tracing over the top of his sweater where she knew a few deep scars were by now. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he at least tried. She might want to wait a little longer, though. I think she just likes taking a lot of things slower and taking her time with it,” he explained to her, tapping his fingertips against the tabletop. “Especially after everything that went down with Snape last year. She’s just… having a hard time with trusting new people, I suppose.”

Lucy nodded understandingly. She really couldn’t blame Lily; her best friend, one of the people she had been closest to in the world, openly said terrible things about Muggleborns, then tried to excuse himself by saying he didn’t mean them towards her specifically.

She didn’t buy it for one second.

“At least she’s gotten closer with James. She seems to actually like him, now that he’s not such an annoying toe rag,” she grinned, glancing up at the clock on the wall as she noticed the two of them getting up, James offering his hand out to his date before leading her out of the pub. The two noticed the rat hopping off the shaggy black dog, bounding after the two Gryffindors once they were headed down the road towards the castle.

“I wonder if he ever took my advice and got her flowers,” Lucy thought aloud, finishing off her drink before setting it back down on the table. “Come on, we better make sure a certain dog didn’t get into a territory war with the other strays,” she said with a grin, pulling out a few galleons and setting them on the table before standing up out of the booth. Remus followed after her, wiping a bit of foam from the corner of his mouth with his sweater sleeve.

He led her through the crowded tables and booths out towards the front door, stopping on the other side of the street to pet the black dog. He stood up after a moment and nodded towards the castle, leading now both Lucy and Padfoot back to Hogwarts. The witch and wizard made small talk once again as they walked at a slower pace, somehow landing on the topic of what animagus Lucy would have been if she decided to go through with the plan with her brother and his friends.

“I know for a fact I wouldn’t be a doe,” she said, laughing a bit at the thought. “I think I’d probably be like… I don’t know, a snake, or something like that.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in Slytherin!”

“No! I think I’d be best as a snake. I can sneak around the castle, and how cool would it be to say that I’m a snake?” she defended, the two of them laughing a bit before Peter came running up to them quickly, looking out of breath yet excited.

“He kissed her!” Peter exclaimed quickly when he had reached the two students and the dog. At this news, however, Padfoot paused, quickly turning back to his human form. His mouth was agape, his face displaying pure shock.

“WHAT?” he practically yelled. Remus and Lucy were nearly positive anyone back at the castle would have heard him. “Does this mean we’re gonna have a Baby Prongs too?”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Lucy said quickly to the rowdy boy.

“You’re barking,” Remus said, shaking his head a bit. “He would’ve been too scared to kiss her,” he added, continuing to walk alongside the younger Potter and the eldest Black back towards the castle.

“I’m not! I swear!” Peter protested, following after them quickly. “It was really quick, but I saw it! He walked her up to the stairs to the girls dorm and kissed her!”

“Come on! Wormtail doesn’t have the capacity to lie! He’d probably cry if he tried to lie to us,” Sirius pointed out, causing Remus to slow down for a minute at the thought. Peter nodded quickly in agreement with Sirius, not taking offense to the slightly passive comment that was just made about him.

The four of them began walking quickly back towards the school, now very curious about what had just happened. They practically sprinted through the halls and past the portraits, who yelled at them for running in the castle. The three boys practically shouted the password at the Fat Lady and smuggled Lucy in behind them, nearly falling on top of each other as they shuffled into the common room.

Lucky for them, James was in there, standing at the foot of the stairs that led to the boys dormitories. Unluckily for them, he looked… pissed, to say the absolute least.

“What the bloody hell were you guys doing!?” he shouted, his arms folded across his chest. He looked the way you’d expect a disappointed dad to look at you when you messed up. If the four of them weren’t so excited, they probably would’ve felt at least a little guilty.

“You KISSED Evans?” the four of them yelled back in unison, causing James to stumble back a bit out of shock. He glanced over to Peter, who cowered behind Remus and Sirius a bit, almost afraid he was going to be grounded.

“It’s none of your business who I kiss!”

“Oh my God!” Lucy said, shaking her head a bit and laughing. “I can’t believe it! Tell us everything that happened!” she exclaimed, taking her brother by the wrist and dragging her off towards the couch that was closest to the fireplace.

James, unimpressed with his sister’s theatrics, wrung his hand out of her grasp. He rolled his eyes a little bit, but still sat himself down on the couch beside his sister. “Do I really have to talk to you about this, of all people!”

“Yes!”

James groaned at her answer, folding his arms across his chest but smiling a bit as he thought back to what the day had held for him. “Fine,” he gave in, his face blushing a soft pink color as he thought of where to start. “How much would you guys hate me if I told you she was the one who kissed me?”

-x-x-x-

“And that was their first of many, many more dates,” Lucy explained to Harry, giving him a warm smile as she combed some of his hair out of his face.

He looked up at her with pure wonder and amusement, as if he had heard one of the best stories ever in his entire, albeit short, life.

“What are they doing?” he asked, tilting his head off to the side a bit.

Lucy raised a curious eyebrow, resting her hand down on the mattress next to her nephew. “What do you mean, bug?” she asked.

“What do they do now? Are they still together?” he clarified, smoothing over the plush wing of his inanimate best friend.

Lucy, doing her best to figure out how to delicately word everything to her nephew, gave him a soft, sad smile. “They got married after they left Hogwarts, and they had a very cute, very smart little boy,” she told him, pushing some curls out of his face so she could see her brother again. “But they got very hurt one night, protecting their little boy, and they had to go far away so they could get better.”

“When do you think they’ll come back?”

She felt her stomach sink at the question, sighing a bit as she dropped her hands into her lap once again. “I don’t think they will, bubs. I know that they really, really wish they could, though,” she told him, squeezing his hand gently.

“I think it’s time for bed… We have to leave to go to Uncle Moony’s pretty early tomorrow,” she said, quickly trying to change the subject. She leaned over and kissed the top of his head gently, giving him one last warm smile. “G’night, B.P.,” she said, winking down at him playfully.

Harry leaned up slightly in his reclined position, pressing a sloppy kiss to his aunt’s nose. “Goodnight, L.P.,” he responded, giving her a big grin as he took off his round glasses and set them on the table next to his bed.

Lucy got up from the bed and headed towards the door, turning off the light as she glanced back to her godson. “Sleep tight, don’t let the doxies bite,” she told him, grinning as she heard his small laughter ring through the room. She closed the door slowly and sighed, rubbing at her eyes a bit as she headed down the hall to her own bedroom.

Before she reached the end of the hallway, however, she paused in front of a large framed photo in the middle of a bunch of other small ones. It was of Harry, his parents, Remus, Sirius, and Lucy, all in the house in Godric’s Hollow when they had first moved in. Harry was hardly a year old, oblivious to the chaos occurring around him outside of the protected walls. He was on a small toy broom Sirius had bought for him, zooming around the group of them as he giggled over and over. James kept trying to reach for him, making sure he was alright, while Lily laughed at the ordeal. Sirius grinned brightly at the chaos he had caused, while Lucy and Remus just looked on at the rest of them in amusement. Peter was the one taking the picture, and Lucy felt as if she could almost hear his shrill laughter. She missed those days dearly, when she still had all of her friends, all of her family, around her and laughing with her.

She traced the frame of the photo with her fingertips as she smiled sadly up at it, wishing silently they could all have seen how great Harry had turned out, how good he was doing, how proud he made her. She sighed quietly again and headed down to her room, freezing for a moment as she felt something on her shoulder. She knew it was nothing, probably a gust of wind through her cracked window or a small fly buzzing past her, but she rested her hand on her shoulder for a moment, silently imagining it was her brother or even Lily, looking down on all of them and just comforting her. She smiled at the thought, before she slipped into her bed and fell asleep, much more quickly than she usually did.

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

Grab It Before It Passes

Chapter 10 of The Spring He Came Back | 10 of 12

What was she thinking? She was late to work because she slept in. And why did she sleep in? Because she and Hitsugaya talked until morning. Nice sabotaging your business, Hinamori. She arrived in front of her shop, breathless from her fast cycling, and she was greeted by a small line of her constant customers. When the morning storm died down, she started to prepare reserved bouquets despite feeling lightheaded. It was already lunch time when she finished all her orders and walk-ins.

The bell on the door rang again, and she stood up from the counter to meet her next customer. Maybe I’ll skip lunch today.

“Don’t skip lunch today.” Hitsugaya was yawning as he entered the shop. Hinamori was thankful he got rid of the glasses and kept his old hairstyle. He waved her closer and indicated the bento in his hands. “Sorry for keeping you up until morning.”

If there were other customers right now, I’m pretty sure his words will be taken out of context. Well, we were kind of intimate last night. Hinamori soothed the forming ache on her temples. He rushed to her side and cupped her face anxiously. “Are you okay Momo?”

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” a supplier came in at that inopportune moment, a crate of azaleas in their hands.

Before Hinamori could go to them, Hitsugaya bridged the distance in quick strides and took the crate. “No, is this all? Hinamori has a headache so please let me get this.”

“Ah, Dr. Hitsugaya.” The supplier recognized him and instantly became awed at meeting one of Soul Society’s prodigies. “Of course, of course. Uh, wait, Hinamori, you’re still set for farm visit?”

Trying to control her blush, Hinamori smiled at her supplier. “Yes. I’ll see you at 4. Thank you.” She followed them to the door and placed a lunch break sign. “Please don’t do that again when I’m at work.”

“I’m sorry. I acted on instinct.” Hitsugaya placed the bento boxes on a nearby table and the aroma escaping from the box ushered her closer.

It didn’t occur to her that she should dwell on his statement. She was hungry, and she needed caffeine. She devoured her food and answered Hitsugaya’s questions on flowers in between bites. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked while she took a large bite from a tempura.

“I also woke up late so I just went straight to my lunch meeting at the academy. Too bad I wasn’t able to buy you tea on the way here.” He stifled a yawn again.

Hinamori finished the last of her meal, and set aside the box. She checked the counter once more before she gestured him to stand and follow her. “Let’s drop by quickly at my favorite café.”

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

“Black tea with an extra shot of black tea for Momo,” the owner, Yuki, called out. “And uh, iced americano for Hitsu-“

A visibly irked Hitsugaya took both cups from his hand. “Thank you. Now, Momo can we go?”

“Hey Yuki. Thanks again. You always have my back on tiring days.” Hinamori flashed him an apologetic smile which he shrugged off. He has a knowing gleam in his eyes, and he was obviously trying to send a message.

“What do you mean? You’re my favorite customer. Come again tomorrow?”

“You bet. I gotta go. It’s a busy day.” Hinamori was slowly getting annoyed by Hitsugaya’s impatient tapping on the counter. She didn’t know what set him off, but they rushed off from the café. “What’s wrong with you, Shirou?”

He walked along with her until they reached the flower shop. “I gotta go for another set of meetings. What time do you close?”

“I have to go by four. Now, please tell me what irritated you in that café because I needed my favorite drink and you’re making my headache worse.”

“He knows your favorite brew.” And with that, he shuffled away like his feet was on fire.

And now she too was pissed and exasperated by his childish behavior. Very Hitsugaya of him. “He is a barista. Isn’t he supposed to know what my preferred brew is?”

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

She was mounting her bicycle when he came around. Surprisingly, he bought a bicycle of his own. “Sorry Shirou. I need to go to the flower farm.”

“Can I go with you? I’m also done with the meetings for today.” Recalling that he was not able to reserve a hotel and would most likely go back with her to the compound, she finally agreed.

They arrived at her supplier’s flower farm after a 30-minute ride. Hitsugaya seemed to give her space as he stayed behind with the welcoming staff and answered their questions about his life abroad. She went with her supplier and surveyed the next batch of flowers she would pick for the next batch of delivery. The Peruvian lilies were not ripe for picking as it was still very early in the spring as well as the dahlias. She eventually settled on tulips, gardenias, and daisies.

“Hinamori, can you check on my peonies and gerbera? We have a bad outbreak of thrips this time.”

“No problem. I’ll look around a little bit more.” It was a good thing she bought her sampling kit. She constructed a makeshift laboratory in her room a year after she became a florist where she studied common plant pests. She would provide her personal concoctions from natural ingredients to deter continued onset. Inorganic pesticides have more lasting side-effects on the flowers’ blooming time which would inevitably affect her sales.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.” They were shifting their feet nervously on the ground. “But are you and the professor together?”

Hinamori squatted down to the level of the flowers, checking the underside of the leaves for signs of the culprit. “No, we’re just friends.”

“He’s a really in-demand person with his recent re-appearance here in town, but he finds time for you.”

She proceeded to the next plot. There was a lot from her naked eye. “Maybe he’s just good at scheduling his tasks and it so happened that he’s relatively free today.” It was bad but not unmanageable.

“I heard he turned down speeches in museums and luncheons. Town gossip.”

Could they have been gossiping about their past? If he gets associated again with her and it backfires, what would she do? “It’s gossip so it’s not reliable either.”

The supplier was trying their best to get their point across. “I’m saying, he really looks out for you. It couldn’t be any more obvious, and it would do you good if you allow yourself to accept it.” Contented with what they said, the supplier retreated from her space and returned to the staff house.

She had a bad habit of repressing these discussions when she was occupied with something else, and would only recall them just as she was falling asleep. She pushed it at the back of her mind until she wrapped up with sampling. Finally done, she saw Hitsugaya in the middle of the azalea field. She quickly made a flower crown from the discarded flowers and went to him.

Quietly sneaking behind him, she successfully landed the crown of yellow, orange, and red daisies on his immaculate silver hair. She chuckled at the bright contrast. “Pretty boy.”

“Come here then.” He grabbed her hand and slid a bracelet of white azaleas on her wrist. He also added a small circle of twine with a lone flower on her ring finger. “Pretty girl.”

It couldn’t be any more obvious. Again, she pushed this memory at the back of her mind.

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

She was losing sleep for two days in a row. Baba accidentally destroyed the heater in Hinamori’s room, and in Hitsugaya’s room so they huddled together in her room. Baba was quite happy with the arrangement, but Hinamori was not. Not when her futon was beside Hitsugaya instead of Baba being in the middle. It also didn’t help that he would always turn in his sleep and reach out for her hand. She would be there lying, her hand warm in his, his sleeping face in front of hers, and her heart beating out of control.

Trying to have some semblance of normality in her life, she stopped seeing him for lunch, making up excuses that she was busy with accounting and meeting suppliers. But he dropped her off those two mornings, earning interested glances from her customers and showed up a few minutes before she closed shop. Hitsugaya showed up again, bringing cookies this time and her favorite brew in ice. He was spending an awful lot of time in her favorite café. “Yuki makes the best americano and the best oat cookies,” he said as he munched on one.

“Thanks, I need a sugar rush.” Hinamori was tired, she didn’t think much of it when she leaned in and took a bite directly from a cookie still in his hand. As any other moments recently, it was also the exact time when Rukia, Renji, and Rangiku entered the shop.

“Looks like you didn’t need our help at all, Professor,” Rangiku jeered.

And like any other moments recently, both of them would burst into intense redness. The 3Rs bought cakes for sharing and some wine. Rukia and Renji were full-time faculty in the academy and were officially together. They were set to be wed this year, but the two were still finalizing how they would break the news of wedding bells to Byakuya. Rangiku, on the other hand, became a freelance educator for the poor and disadvantaged in nearby towns. She was also recognized as an affiliate professor of the academy. Her work allowed her to reconnect again with her childhood friend, Gin. Hinamori was yet to meet the guy, but she guessed they were probably in the dating stage already. They were lucky – to have found friendship and love and have these requited.

Stop thinking about IT, Momo, she told herself.

“Hey, Momo, you’re up for a beach trip?” Renji asked. “It’s your day-off tomorrow, right?”

“I really can’t. I have to take care of Baba.” She hoped to sit out this one because these rumbling emotions were becoming too much for her to bear in silence.

“This one’s on you, Hitsugaya. Good luck.” Their friends snickered on the bet that he can persuade Hinamori to go.

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

For some reason, she cannot say no to him. Nor Baba. Her grandmother was left in care of two of the best medical staff and a neighbor who will send text messages to Hinamori and Hitsugaya every hour. Since she traveled an hour by train and was already here, she might as well enjoy it.

It somehow escaped her mind that she couldn’t swim so she stayed on the beach, perfectly fine in a summer dress and a slice of watermelon to cool off the heat. When she saw Hitsugaya running headfirst towards the water with his abs on full display, she almost choked on her fruit.

He really grew up. He’s not shorter than me anymore, and he has muscles. Why does he have abs? Hinamori was at the end of her wits, and the watermelon was not helping cool her down. She retreated to their space and laid down under the shade of the large umbrella. Maybe I should sleep my time away.

After a few minutes, she heard him calling her name. Acting asleep, she actively ignored him. “Momo, are you okay?” His figure loomed before her, the abs directly in her view. She fluttered her eyes open and gave the most annoyed look she could at the dripping Hitsugaya. “Sunblock please, Momo?”

“I’m trying to sleep here!” She huffed indignantly and pulled out her reef-safe sunblock, squeezed out a rather large amount and slapped it on his cheeks.

“You weren’t sleeping. You were pretending.”

“Shut up, I’m applying some protection on your face. Also you’re an idiot because why would you run to the waters first?” She held his chin on her hands and gently lathered the rest of the sunblock on his face. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

“I can stay for a few seconds. Doesn’t this take a minute to set?” His eyes were never left her face. What was this atmosphere?!

“Go get a room,” Rangiku shouted from the water. “I’m getting lonely in here.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea!” Hitsugaya shouted back to Rangiku. “Sorry about that Momo. I’ll leave you alone.”

What did just happen? Is this what they call flirting? Hinamori was truly exasperated so she set out on a walk by the beach. After a few minutes, Rukia joined her pace. Like her, Rukia didn’t know how to swim.

“It’s pretty confusing, huh?” was her first statement.

“Why is everyone talking as if they have the same topic in mind and I’m out of the loop. Am I missing something here?”

“Momo, you’re dissociating again.” She patted her back and smelled in the breeze. “It’s all out in the open and you just have to step forward and grab it.”

“Can you all stop talking in abstract?” Hinamori pleaded, tired from discerning and reading between the lines.

“From someone who noticed it only later in life, notice it now. We’ve seen it coming, but it’s different if you finally realize it. Grab it now before it passes.”

It was a fairly normal beach trip with lots of card games and a watermelon eating contest between Hitsugaya and Renji. By landslide, the watermelon master Hitsugaya Toushirou won. They ended the trip with sparklers, and Rangiku said they have to make a wish before they ran out. In her mind, she only wished for one thing. It was the one thing she should have said aloud when they were kids and when he left ten years ago. On the trip back home, they sat beside each other.

“What did you wish for?” Hitsugaya asked. His cheeks were flushed red from the sun.

She looked at him straight in the eye and said her wish aloud. “For you to stay.”

It has become a habit, him reaching out to touch her hand and her allowing his fingers to wound through hers. “You’re trembling.”

“Don’t go.”

He kept their wound hands inside his jacket’s pocket in an effort to keep her warm, mistaking her confrontation with her feelings with the remnants of winter. “Thank you, Momo.”

NEXT CHAPTER | 11 OF 12 | INTO THE WONDERFUL UNKNOWN

#hitsuhina #hinamori momo #hitsugaya toushirou #kuchiki rukia #matsumoto rangiku #abarai renji #bleach #bleach couples #anime #anime fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #TSHCB

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kookitykook · 4 years

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Seven Soulmarks: Taehyung (”It’s you.”)

~genre: soulmate au, fluff, sfw

~word count: 5.2k

~warnings: absolutely none this is cute lmao

~pairing: solo idol!taehyung x y/n

~summary: At the exact moment of your twentieth birthday, the first words your soulmate will ever say to you appear on the inside of your left wrist. Seven boys meeting their soulmates shows how the universe always has a plan.

See how the other boys meet their soulmates (all interconnected) Jungkook -- Jimin -- Namjoon -- Hoseok -- Yoongi -- Jin

~~~~~~~~~

Kim Taehyung hated his life.

Rationally, he knew that this was likely the result of him being the most selfish douchebag on the face of the planet.

Didn’t change the fact that he hated his life.

“This is bullshit!” Taehyung shouted, tearing the beanie off of his head and chucking it across the room in favor of running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I thought this was my album, Sejin. Why are these prats making all of the decisions?!”

Taehyung’s manager, Sejin, took a deep breath. Taehyung was prone to outbursts as of late, but he knew that the young singer’s anger simply came from a place of frustration, not cruelty. He’d been working for Taehyung for over three years now, he knew the young man better than most.

“Taehyung, it’s just two songs. The rest of the album is all yours, but the company needs you to play nice so that—”

“I don’t care what the company wants,” Taehyung snapped, hands on his hips as he turned to face Sejin. “They don’t ever seem to care what I want in my music these days, so why should I listen to them?”

“Tae—”

“No, no! They would be a no-name recording label drowning in debt if I hadn’t signed with them and this is how they treat me! I’m done, I’m fucking done.”

Taehyung slammed his hand against the wall beside him, and only felt slightly bad when he saw Sejin jump out of the corner of his eye. His broad chest heaved with breaths as he leaned his forehead against the wall and tried to calm down.

“It’s not my music anymore,” he finally murmured. “It’s not … me.” He looked up, meeting Sejin’s eye. “I’m sick of doing the same damn formula for every song. The same chord progressions, the same shitty beat drops that sound like every other song, the same stupid ass lyrics that don’t mean anything. That’s not me, man. It’s not the fans either, I just feel … I feel like I’m lying to them every time I release a new shitty song that can be played in clubs but doesn’t really mean anything.”

“The songs are doing well though.”

“Of course they are, the fans will support me no matter what I release, but if it’s not really from my heart then I’m just taking advantage of them!” Taehyung retorted, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m sick of this! It’s been over a year since the company let me release anything that I wrote myself, and they won’t even give Scenery a chance!”

“You just have to be patient, Taehyung.”

“But I—”

“No, Taehyung, you have to be patient,” Sejin urged, cutting the singer off in a rare display of authority. “Your contract is up in a year. Just one year, and then you’ll have to resign for another four years or …”

Sejin trailed off, letting Taehyung connect the dots. He would never tell his young friend what to do, but he had seen the toll that lack of creative freedom was taking on the singer. Taehyung had lost weight, his voice didn’t have that same vibrancy that it did when he was singing his own music, and he had been avoiding any sort of outings that might put him in the path of paparazzi or his fans.

“Or I can choose not to re-sign with them,” Taehyung finished the thought in a quiet voice. He lifted his head to the ceiling, releasing a long breath. “Just one year. One more year. I can do that. I can do that, right?”

“Of course you can,” Sejin said quickly. “One year will fly by.”

Taehyung huffed, flopping down on the couch of the green room connected to the studio of the shitty, obnoxious American producer that he was being forced to work with.

“I’m not even twenty years old and I’m this tired,” he said with a humorless laugh, rubbing his eyes.

“Actually, you are twenty years old.”

Taehyung looked at Sejin incredulously. “No I’m not. My birthday is tomorrow.”

“You were born in Korea, and your birthday started there an hour ago. Because of the time differences you—”

“Well why didn’t you say something?” Taehyung shouted, jumping up to his feet and muttering under his breath as he tried to take off the thick, clunky bracelet over his left wrist.

Because of the occasional stalker and obsessive fan, the majority of celebrities who hadn’t found their soulmate yet had taken to keeping their soulmark area constantly covered — Taehyung had wanted to get in the habit of such even before his twentieth birthday.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to bring up your soulmark in front of those assholes back there,” Sejin muttered under his breath. Taehyung smirked. It was rare that Sejin cursed, so it was clear that Taehyung wasn’t the only one who was sick of the jerks that the company had been forcing him to work with lately.

“What’s it say?” the manager asked as Taehyung finally got the bracelet off of his left wrist.

“It says … ‘It’s you.’”

“Oh.” Sejin cleared his throat. “Well … I guess she’ll be a fan?”

Taehyung let out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t wait to meet his soulmate, sure, but a part of him had always romanticized the idea of someone falling for him first and then V, famous singer, second.

That was a pipe dream and you know it, he rationalized to himself.

The money, the fame, the countless opportunities that had been thrown Taehyung’s way since he was just barely seventeen were amazing, and he was thankful every day for them.

But the way that things were going lately, between having to make music that wasn’t from his heart at all and countless rumors and scandals that were always being blown way out of proportion, Taehyung just wanted to feel normal — at least for a little while. To get his head back on straight.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Taehyung muttered, not really thinking about his soulmate much at all in that moment. Even though if she was a fan, which it seemed like she was given her first words to him, she was probably thinking about him often.

Guilt struck him immediately. He loved his fans, it wasn’t their fault at all that he wasn’t content.

The inauthenticity of the situation was just getting to be too damn much. Being twenty years old was when he was supposed to really discovering himself, and yet his company wasn’t allowing him that opportunity. No matter the privileges he had, that was enough to drive someone crazy.

“Just one year,” Taehyung muttered to himself, glancing up as Sejin clapped a hand on his shoulder. “One year.”

***

“Honey are you sure you don’t want to celebrate with us?”

“Mom I am going to celebrate with you and Dad,” you reassured your mother with a smile as you shrugged on your coat. “We’re having a birthday party tomorrow!”

“Yes, but I don’t know how I feel about you being alone for your soulmark appearance.”

“Mom I’ll be fine.” You leaned over and kissed your mother’s cheek swiftly. “I just want this moment to myself. Besides, I was born at 2 AM, nobody is going to want to stay awake that late just to see some words appear on my wrist.”

“I would!”

“Mom, you can’t stay up past 10:30 PM and we both know it,” you laughed. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to help set up for the party. Bye, love you!”

You practically ran out the front door before your mother could say anything else, pulling your coat tighter to you. You picked a few pieces of stray dog hair that had attached itself to the material as you walked to your car. You weren’t sure if the dog hair was from your own dog at home, or if it was from one of the sweet little guys from the animal shelter you volunteered at.

After taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of the night sky, you unlocked your car and hopped in, going through the motions of starting up your car and pulling out onto the main road.

The coast was about a three and a half hour drive away, which would put you sitting on the beach listening to the waves under a starry sky right as your soulmark was set to appear. Just how you had always imagined it.

The drive was a familiar one, and you put on your favorite driving playlist to pass the time. The playlist mostly consisted of oldies that your dad had listened to with you when you were a child, a few rap songs, and some movie soundtracks that you liked. Nothing too current, honestly. You were so busy with taking online courses, waitressing, and volunteering at the shelter that you didn’t put much time into listening to the latest hits on Top 40.

Not that you really liked current pop music. There was this annoying trend going on for the last couple years of songs only about partying and having sex with annoying beat drops in the background that all kind of sounded the same.

Not that there was anything wrong with that kind of music, of course, it just wasn’t really your scene.

Soon enough, your mind started wandering. Your thoughts jumped between ideas of what your soulmark might be, to the apartments you were looking at moving into soon (if you could ever find a roommate, that is), to one of the cats at the shelter that needed to find a home ASAP.

You needed to call the shelter’s photographer on call tomorrow to help with that last one. The young woman was an amazing photographer that, like you, had a soft spot for animals. She’d started offering free shoots for the animals at the shelter that needed to be adopted sooner rather than later, hoping that by having professional photos of them to post on social media and on posters, people might be more inclined to take them in.

You and the photographer got along well. You’d even talked about soulmarks recently when she heard that your twentieth birthday was coming up.

(The photographer had yet to meet her soulmate, but her mark read, ‘Wait, please!’)

Realizing that you were thinking about work and responsibilities instead of just enjoying a peaceful drive to the beach, you decided you needed a change of pace. Not taking your eyes off the road, you turned off your driving playlist that had started to repeat and switched on the radio instead.

The song that was playing was …

Utter crap, honestly.

“Ugh,” you muttered to yourself, wincing at the overuse of bass and a chord progression that sounded suspiciously exactly like that recent Chainsmokers song one of the guys at the shelter had played for you the other day.

The male vocals were nice, you guessed. Even if the lyrics were about dicking down some random girl at a club.

Like you’d never heard that song before.

Fortunately, you only had to listen to about a minute of the song before it was over.

“Alright that was the one and only V on his brand new collaboration with Elia!” the radio announcer said as soon as the song was over. “Hey, did you hear the latest news about our dear heartthrob V?” he asked his cohost.

“No,” the female announcer responded with an overdramatic gasp. You rolled your eyes. “What is it?”

“Paparazzi caught sight of his soulmark the other day.”

That time, you gasped alongside the female announcer. A celebrity soulmark sighting was awful, everyone agreed on that. There were countless horror stories of fans knowing their idol’s soulmark and saying the words to them and even faking their own soulmarks to try and trick them into a relationship. It was a nightmare scenario.

“No!” the female announcer said even more dramatically. “I can’t believe it … but also, like … what’s it say? Just out of curiosity of course.”

While you curled your lip in disgust, the two announcers laughed together. You felt gross just listening to them discuss the celebrity’s soulmark like this, they had no respect for the sanctity of the marks.

You didn’t even know the celebrity (V, or something? Who names themselves a letter?), but no one deserved to have their mark discussed so flippantly. It was just plain disrespectful.

“According to the picture, his mark says—”

You turned the radio off.

“Assholes,” you muttered under your breath.

You decided to take the last twenty minutes of the drive in silence, thinking of your soulmark and who your soulmate might be.

Honestly, you weren’t picky at all. You trusted the soulmark system, and believed with all your heart that the person that had your first words to them tattooed on their wrist was going to be just right for you. You didn’t care what they looked like or did for a living, you knew they would be enough no matter what.

The thought made you smile softly. You had a person out there designed just for you. It was unbelievable, but in the best kind of way.

Finally you arrived at the secluded beach, parking close to the sand under a streetlight. You stretched as you stepped out of your car, grabbing your blanket and a flashlight and taking off your shoes before running towards the water.

You didn’t care that you probably looked crazy running onto the beach at almost 2 AM by yourself — not that there was anyone around to see, anyways. You were excited — this was the moment you’d been waiting for for twenty years.

In just minutes you were situated at the edge of the water, just close enough to feel the sea spray as the tide rolled in. You checked the time on your phone.

Just a few seconds to go. You held the flashlight up to focus on the inside of your left wrist, cheeks hurting from grinning so much.

And then it was appearing. Black lines slowly came into view and then … it was there.

The first words your soulmate would ever say to you.

‘Do you even know who I am, you psycho?’

You blinked.

“Well then,” you muttered to yourself, looking back out to the sea again, but this time with a decidedly not so ecstatic expression. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

***

A YEAR AND A HALF LATER

“Dude, you know you can go out and actually do stuff, right? Not sure how you’re getting ‘inspiration’ by being holed up in my apartment all day.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes as Jimin searched for his keys. He’d been staying at his best friend’s apartment for the past few weeks after finally calling it quits with the company that had treated him like shit for so long. He’d wanted to disappear, and his friendship with Jimin had stayed off the radar for the past few years, so his friend had gladly offered to let him stay at his place until he figured out his next move.

Not that Taehyung had any idea what his next move was. He knew he had to keep making music or he’d go crazy, he just wasn’t ready to sign his creativity over to someone else again.

“You know I can’t do that,” Taehyung retorted, scratching Jimin’s dog Chim behind the ears as the little mutt lounged on his lap. “I can’t risk being recognized.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, turning to face his friend head on. “They make things called masks, genius.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said I could come stay with you as long as I needed to.”

“And I mean it,” Jimin affirmed, checking his pink hair in the mirror by the front door. Being a hairdresser, Jimin did this annoyingly often. “You can. But you’ve got to get out and do something, Tae. Come with me to the salon, or go to the movies, or busk at the subway station. Do something, man.”

“While busking at the dirty subway station does sound appealing,” Taehyung deadpanned, “I’m just … I’m nervous, Jimin. I don’t know how to be … normal anymore.”

Jimin turned back to his friend sympathetically. He didn’t understand Taehyung’s dilemma at all, but he could recognize fear and pain when he saw it. Subconsciously, he rubbed at the thick leather bracelet covering his left wrist.

(Jimin hadn’t met his soulmate yet, but his mark read, ‘Stop right there!’ and he already hated himself for the way he was apparently going to inspire fear in the person he was supposed to love and cherish.)

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” Jimin finally said, making an excited noise as he finally found his keys, “You were never really normal. But,” he held up his finger when Taehyung started to protest childishly, “I think that’s part of your charm. Now put on a face mask and go on a walk Chim. My house, my rules, go do it.”

“Jiminie, I—”

“Nope! No arguments! There’s a really nice dog park two blocks down! Bye!”

Jimin slipped out the door before Taehyung could say another word.

“Jackass,” Taehyung murmured without any real bite. Chim looked up at him with his adorable big brown eyes. “Not you,” he assured the dog. “Just your dumb owner.”

Chim whined, cocking his head to the side. One of his ears stuck up, while the other flopped down. It was ridiculous how cute the mutt was.

“Ack, fine. You want to go on a walk, Chimmy? Not like I’m exactly stewing in song-writing inspiration now, right?”

Chim barked.

“Gee thanks, bud.”

And that was how Taehyung started his daily walks to the dog park with Chim.

***

“I’m going to murder him,” you seethed.

The vet photographer just laughed, not even taking her eye away from her camera as she took shots of the pitbull puppy that had just been brought to the shelter last week.

“You’re not going to murder anyone,” your friend said.

“Oh yes I am. I’ve tried to catch him three times now, but I keep missing him by just minutes!”

“How do you know that?”

“The poop is still warm when I get there.”

“Ew!” Your friend did look away from her camera at that comment, scrunching up her nose. “That’s disgusting, Y/N.”

“Yeah I know!” you retorted, walking over and picking up the puppy, holding him tight to your chest. “There’s signs everywhere in the dog park. ‘Clean up after your dog,’ ‘Please dispose of your dog’s waste here,’ ‘Dog waste bags available at the entrance of the park.’ And yet does this person clean up after their dog? No!”

“How do you know it’s the same person doing it?” your friend asked, letting her camera hang from the strap around her neck as she scratched the top of the puppy’s head.

“I can tell,” you said matter-of-factly. “It’s the same poop pattern.”

Your friend cackled at that, which stirred the puppy in your arms. “That’s so gross.”

“I’ve stepped in it twice,” you told her, gritting your teeth. “Everyone around here respects the rule, so whoever has been letting their dog poop in the park and then not clean it up for the past three weeks is a newbie. And I’m going to track him down and give him a piece of my mind!”

“How do you know it’s a he?” your friend asked, taking the puppy from you and repositioning him in her makeshift photoshoot set once again.

“Oh I just know.”

“Don’t tell me you saw his poop pattern, too?”

“Aish, shut up and take the pictures!”

***

Taehyung hummed under his breath as he led Chim down the street towards the dog park.

Even though Taehyung would never admit it to Jimin, his friend’s suggestion of walking Chim had been really, really good for him. It had helped him to realize that three years of fame and concerts and tours and events and press had left Taehyung with little to no schedule or routine in his life.

And Taehyung liked routine, he was discovering. He liked being able to know or at least have an idea of what the next day held, he liked going on walks and not having to make an event of it, or care what he looked like or what brands of clothes or shoes he was wearing because paparazzi photos would imply that he was promoting them, and so on, and so on.

He liked normalcy. At least small pieces of it.

And he liked Chim. Taehyung and the dog had become the best of friends in the past three weeks of daily walks together, a fact which Jimin was only slightly jealous of.

It was nice. And oddly enough, it was giving Taehyung inspiration for all sorts of new sounds and songs.

For three years Taehyung had gone on expensive retreats to try and find song-writing inspiration (not that his company had ever listened to any of his ideas after the success of his first EP), and now he was finding loads of it just walking his friend’s dog down the street for free.

Such a simple task was giving Taehyung an entirely new perspective. It was his favorite thing to do, which was absolutely mind boggling considering he was a literal millionaire that could do just about anything he wanted.

He liked this change of pace though.

“Ah, ah, no, Chim,” he said as the dog started to tug at his leash. “Come on bud, we go over this every day.”

At the halfway point to the dog park, they passed a local animal shelter. It was close to the road, so Chim always heard dogs barking or saw someone in the parking lot with their animal. He rarely barked himself, but always tugged on his leash to try and get closer.

“Come on, Chimmie, let’s go.”

With a huff, Taehyung did what he usually ended up doing and just reached down and picked up the dog, tucking him under his arm to walk him away from the sight of the shelter.

But as he stood back up, he glanced over to the shelter and froze.

As you stepped out of the building leading a medium sized golden retriever puppy, talking to it softly, Taehyung found himself unable to look away.

You were smiling, talking with the clearly skittish dog in a soothing voice. Your skin seemed to glow as the sun shone down on you and you were objectively stunning, even in plain jeans and a purple tee.

As if sensing that you were being watched, you glanced up from the dog you were working with to look up at Taehyung standing on the sidewalk.

Taehyung stiffened, looking away and walking with Chim down the street once more. It had been an instinct reaction, fearing that he had been recognized.

Then he remembered that he was wearing a mask and felt like an idiot for not looking at you for another moment more.

***

“Hey, hey!”

Your friend jumped as you came flying around the corner, almost dropping her camera in the process.

“You scared me!” she said with a hand on her chest to catch her breath. “What is it? What’s wrong”

“Can you get this sweet guy back into his crate? I have to go catch him!”

“Catch who?” your friend asked, taking the leash of the golden retriever you were leading.

“The dog poop guy!” you shouted, voice fading as you took off back out the door. “I’m finally gonna catch the dog poop guy!”

***

“Alright Chim,” Taehyung muttered, voice slightly muffled beneath his mask. “Go ahead, do your business.”

Chim looked up at him with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his.

“Seriously? We go over this everyday. I’m not watching. And there’s no one else even here!” Taehyung gestured around to the empty park. It was a Monday around 10 o’clock in the morning, which meant the park was empty save for the two of them.

“Fine,” he muttered after a few more seconds of Chim staring at him. He leaned down and unclicked his leash since there were no other dogs around, which Chim yipped excitedly about. “Go ahead, the world is your poop yard.”

Chim took off in a run around the fence as Tae sat atop the wooden picnic table and looked around.

It was a beautiful day. The weather was mild enough to wear short sleeves, the sun was shining but not overbearing, and it was a quiet area.

This was the normalcy he had been craving. After years of being on the road and constantly working with no real fulfillment, this was the contentment he had actually been striving for.

He let out a deep breath, leaning back on his palms and looking up at the clouds. He began humming a new melody under his breath, the words to a song that was almost finished just lacking … something.

He managed to hum for just a few more seconds when he heard the gate open.

Taehyung snapped his head up to make sure Chim hadn’t run out, but the person coming in had already closed it behind them.

And it was … you. The girl from the shelter. Except this time you didn’t have the golden retriever with you.

Out of habit, Taehyung lifted a hand to make sure his mask was still in place.

Chim barked excitedly, running to greet the stranger.

“Easy, buddy,” Taehyung called out to the dog as he ran around your legs. You kept walking towards Taehyung, making sure not to step on Chim in the meantime.

Taehyung hopped off of the picnic table and opened his mouth to say hello or … something, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say honestly, he hadn’t spoken to anyone but Jimin in almost a month.

But before he could speak, you beat him to the punch.

“It’s you!”

Taehyung froze as you marched up and pointed in his face.

He’d heard those words from countless crazed fans since his soulmark had leaked. The words that were supposed to fill him with joy at finding his soulmate now filled him with dread.

How the hell had you recognized him with a mask on and his hair a different color than his last paparazzi sighting?

“You are the poop guy!”

Taehyung blinked.

What the hell? he thought to himself. He tried to speak, but you weren’t letting him.

“For three weeks I’ve been bringing the shelter dogs here to play and do you know how many times I have stepped in your dog’s poop?”

Taehyung opened his mouth.

“Seven times!” you shrieked. “Seven times and now two of my favorite pairs of shoes are ruined because they are cloth and I can’t get rid of the poop smell. Can you read?”

Once again, Taehyung tried to speak.

“There are signs!” you yelled, gesturing around the park. “Three signs as a matter of fact! The park even has bags for you to use! It takes five seconds to clean up after your dog! It’s common courtesy!”

Your voice was as shrieky as ever, and your shoulders heaved as you caught your breath.

“Well?” you asked, throwing your hands up in the air. “Aren’t you going to say anything? An apology will suffice, but I prefer a promise to start cleaning up after your dog.”

Taehyung swallowed thickly and you tracked the movement. You couldn’t see the majority of his face because he was wearing a mask over his mouth, but he was built well and had cute fluffy brown hair hanging over his forehead.

Doesn’t matter if he’s cute, he’s not following common dog-owner courtesy, you scolded yourself.

Slowly, he reached up and tugged off his mask.

Aw crap, you thought. He’s not just cute, he’s model level hot.

And he was. His facial features were striking, you’d honestly never seen anyone as attractive as him. But you stood your ground, focusing on the fact that he had ruined two pairs of your favorite shoes and made you give four of the shelter dogs a bath because they stepped in his dog’s poop. Hot or not, that was unacceptable.

Finally, he spoke (not that you had given him much opportunity to until now).

“Do you even know who I am,” Taehyung asked softly, genuinely curious.

But before he finished speaking, he remembered that you had just yelled at him like a crazy person without even letting him defend himself.

“—you psycho?”

Your jaw dropped as the now annoyingly attractive man leveled up in his own irritation.

You briefly registered in the back of your mind that oh shit, this is my soulmate, but quite frankly your soulmate was being a dick!

“It’s a dog park!” Taehyung shouted. “Dogs poop! How hard is it to look down and see where you’re stepping?”

“I shouldn’t have to look down where I’m stepping!” you shot back. “If all dogs pooped here without their owners cleaning up after them, it would be anarchy!”

“Poop is biodegradable!”

“What?! It takes dog poop like three months to decompose!”

“Well that’s … longer than I thought!” he admitted, still yelling. “It doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be screaming at strangers!”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my soulmate!”

Taehyung blinked, mouth slightly agape. You realized your mistake.

“I mean, I-I don’t know who you are,” you muttered. “But you said the words, so — and by the way, rude first words to say to your other half!”

You held up your left wrist, showing your soulmate your mark.

‘Do you even know who I am, you psycho?’

He winced.

After the shouting match, the quiet between the two of you seemed oddly profound.

“Do you … do you actually know who I am though?” he asked quietly.

You raised your eyebrow. “Other than my soulmate and the guy who lets his dog poop freely in a public place? Uh, no, I don’t.”

Taehyung let out a deep breath, laughing softly.

“Good, that’s … good,” he said quietly, his striking eyes looking up at you from beneath his eyelashes. “Sorry about the dog poop.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m really not. If it makes you feel any better, it’s not my dog.”

“That has nothing to do with it!”

“Do you always yell so much?!”

“No I’m usually very pleasant!”

“Well you could’ve fooled me!”

“Well ask me on a date and I’ll prove it to you!”

“Fine, do you want to go out to dinner tonight?!”

“Yes, there’s a good restaurant next to my apartment we can go to!”

“That sounds great!”

“You’re really pretty, I hope you know that!”

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

“I hope it doesn’t freak you out, but I’m actually a famous musician and my stage name is V!”

“Wait, what?”

You stepped back in shock at his declaration and right into a big, fresh pile of —

“Ack! For fuck’s sake, clean up after your damn dog!”

You wanted to hate him for laughing so hard, but after looking at his boxy smile and the way his dog (okay not his dog, but still) was running around his feet yipping excitedly … you just couldn’t do it.

Your soulmark wasn’t exactly the best, but … you had a feeling the man on the other side of it was going to turn out to be perfect for you.

Even if he did continue to laugh as you scraped the dog poop off the bottom of yet another new pair of shoes.

#bts fanfiction #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #bts #my writing

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jiaraweek · 4 years

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✶ JIARA JULY 2020 MASTERLIST ✶

hello everyone! this is the masterlist for all fics posted during the week of jiara july. we’ll be periodically updating it each day with any fics posted under the tag ‘jiara july’ on tumblr or ao3, but please let us know if we miss anything/you want your fic to be added! thank you in advance to all the talented writers who are participating, we can’t wait to read what you’ve come up with!

DAY 1 - July 26th, 2020

PRECANON DAY

i'm so high at the moment, i'm so caught up in this (we're just young, dumb and broke but we still got love to give) by @hvitstark / RoseOf Winterfell on ao3

A totally plausible but not entirely probable speculation of Kie’s kook year and JJ’s part in it.

oneshot | 8K | angst | read it here

here to stay by @interstellarbeams

JJ has a small circle of trust, the Pogues, until Kiara breaks her way in.

oneshot | 2.3K | angst/hurt/comfort | read it here

pretty hot for a pogue by @hmsjiara / someoneyouloved on ao3

jj and rafe have a history, and kiara carrera just happens to be at the center of it.

oneshot | 6.7K | angst/hurt/comfort | read it here

nothin' lasts forever (we both know hearts can change) by @maybankiara

in which jj decides to take his chances with kiara the summer before they go to different high schools, which possibly ruins their friendship (and by an extension, the pogues’).

oneshot | 5.3K | angst | read it here

another day by capulets on ao3

a look at jj and kiara’s relationship from the very beginning.

oneshot | 2.6K | angst | read it here

new message by @routledges

glimpses into the pogues' group chat as kiara heads off to kook academy, and the messages exchanged between jj and kiara as her struggles don't go unnoticed.

oneshot | 1.8K | light angst/fluff | read it here

you drew stars around my scars by @coconutroseowl

after a hard betrayal from her best friend, kiara becomes intrigued with the code of friendship a certain group of boys have after jj helps her feel better.

oneshot | 2.2K | hurt/comfort | read it here

What if... (Secrets are dug in the best friends' back yard?) by TiggerUsername on ao3

What if JJ and Kiara have been keeping a massive secret from the Pogues? What if JJ and Kiara were a lot closer than anyone had expected during Kiara's Kook year?

oneshot | 7.5K | romance/angst | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 2 - July 27th, 2020

ACTIVIY DAY

fingertips puttin' on a show, got me now and I can't say no (i already know that there ain't no stoppin’ your plans and those slow hands) by @hvitstark / RoseOfWinterfell on ao3

JJ and Kie spend the morning with their kids... And trying to make a new one.

oneshot | 2.8K | romance/fluff | read it here

sea salt and grime (can’t believe that you’re mine) by @hmsjiara / someoneyouloved on ao3

jj and kiara fix up a bike together, and jj realizes they may have more in common than he thought.

oneshot | 5.5K | fluff/light angst | read it here

What if... (Baking is for lovers)? by TiggerUsername on ao3

A baking class for idiots inevitably escalates because of the hopeless couple that is JJ and Kiara.

oneshot | 3.3K | romance/fluff | read it here

invisible string by @alphinias

She weaved him bracelets as surely as they weaved memories together.

oneshot | 4.1K | fluff | read it here

i'll be there 'til the stars don't shine by @maybankiara

in which the pogues throw a kegger, and jj keeps getting distracted by the feelings he might have for one of his closest friends.

oneshot | 3.9K | angst/romance | read it here

just as i reach out to touch you (i remind myself you were meant to fly) by @interstellarbeams

JJ’s childhood memory of chasing fireflies has been tainted by his mother’s disappearance, but his friends help remind him what it’s like to be a kid again.

oneshot | 3.7k | fluff/hurt/comfort | read it here

that’s the thing about illicit affairs by @coconutroseowl

a day’s surfing with her best friend sparks unknown and unwanted feelings in kiara.

oneshot | 2.6K | angst | read it here

kiss the girl by capulets on ao3

some traditions are meant to be broken. apparently, the sanctity of movie night isn’t one of them.

oneshot | 1.5K | fluff | read it here

sunday’s by jiaras on ao3

Sundays were for JJ and Kiara. Since they became official three years ago, it was a known fact — ''I can’t, it’s Sunday'' or ''oh, maybe next week? Just not tomorrow, it’s Sunday'' had been more than overused by them both, until everyone seemed to catch on and stop asking all together.

oneshot | 4.8K | fluff/smut | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 3 - July 28th, 2020

AU DAY

two worlds collided (and they could never tear us apart) by @rcsales

Kiara is tired of fancy parties at Sarah’s house; tired of rich self-centered people who only talk about how much money they're making. When she bumps into one of the waiters, her night gets a little more fun, whether she wants to admit it or not.

multichapter | 3.6K | romance/fluff | read it here

i see the sunrise getting high, i wish i was next to you by @hvitstark / RoseOfWinterfell on ao3

jiara band AU

oneshot | 5.2K | fluff/angst | read it here

i had a few (got drunk on you) by @interstellarbeams

Kiara is a student at bartender school and JJ is helping her practice (when he isn’t hindering her by drinking all the liquor).

oneshot | 7.6K | romance/fluff | read it here

no judgement zone by @noellesthings

jiara mythical AU

oneshot | 2K | angst | read it here

What if... (A beating heart is just a ticking timer)? by TiggerUsername on ao3

Everyone in Outer Banks has a soulmate. On their wrist is a ticking timer that is counting down to the second where the person meets their soulmate. The Universe makes sure that the two soulmates don't miss each other.

oneshot | 12.4K | angst/romance | read it here

this dream isn’t feeling sweet by @rae-of-fricking-sunshine

the scorpio race au

multichapter | 10.7K | read it here

monkshood and wolfsbane by @alphinias

JJ and Kiara go through seven years of Hogwarts together. They don't really like each other, until they do.

multichapter | 8.5K | romance/angst/fluff | read it here

war of hearts by capulets on ao3

kiara falls in love with jj. over and over and over again. the reincarnation au literally nobody asked for.

multichapter | 6.6K | romance/angst | read it here

let's get together (before we get much older) by jiaras on ao3

jiara college AU

oneshot | 7.5K | romance/fluff/smut | read it here

cause all’s fair in love and war by @hmsjiara / someoneyouloved on ao3

the percy jackson AU where jj and kiara really, really hate each other... until they don’t.

multichapter | 9.5K | romance/angst | read it here

this world seems beautiful when i'm with you by @maddieandherships

JJ, Pope and John B were alone in this world-a world crawling with dead people that would kill anything that had a heartbeat. It wasn't until they stumble upon a small community of survivors is where they finally feel they have a purpose, to survive.

multichapter | 5.9K | romance/angst | read it here

i have come to save the day by @maybankiara

in which jj is a postman and kiara is his favourite receptionist (alternatively, 4 times kiara didn't know jj's name and the one time she did).

oneshot | 5K | fluff | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 4 - July 29th, 2020

DESTINATION DAY

better date than never by @alphinias

Kiara is sick of her mom badgering her about the single groomsmen at her cousin's wedding, so obviously, taking JJ as her date is the perfect solution. It won't be complicated. Not at all.

oneshot | 22.6K | romance/angst | read it here

you're the only friend I need (sharing beds like little kids) by jiaras on ao3

in which JJ and Kiara take their three kids on a road trip to the lake house.

oneshot | 3.6K | fluff | read it here

tell me when you’re falling (can you hear me calling?) by capulets on ao3

being in love with your best friend makes vacationing pretty inconvenient. luckily for kiara, said best friend will never suspect a thing.

oneshot | 3.3K | fluff/romance | read it here

and if my wishes came true (it would’ve been you) by @hmsjiara / someoneyouloved on ao3

the one where jj and kiara go on a road trip together and do a miserable job of pretending they’re not two idiots in love

oneshot | 7K | angst/fluff/smut | read it here

i don’t want to miss a thing by @maybankiara

in which jj drives kiara off to college, and he's not completely okay with that.

oneshot | 2.2K | fluff/light angst | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 5 - July 30th, 2020

5 + 1 DAY

bare necessities by @rae-of-fricking-sunshine

the five times they were unintentionally undressed, and the one time they weren't

oneshot | 10.6K | fluff | read it here

I can’t believe that it’s finally me and you and you and me, just us (and our friends) by @hvitstark / RoseOfWinterfell on ao3

4 times John B and Pope interupt JJ and Kiara's alone time. And the 1 time they get to be alone.

oneshot | 11.6K | fluff/smut | read it here

if we were meant to be, we would've been by now by @alphinias

five times JJ was jealous, and one time he didn't have to be

oneshot | 12K | angst/romance | read it here

every piece of you by @interstellarbeams

Five places that Kie hadn’t expected to be intimate when kissed and one place she does.

oneshot | 13.2K | fluff/romance | read it here

it wasn’t special til i met you by capulets on ao3

the four times kiara lets jj braid her hair and the one time she doesn’t.

oneshot | 3.2K | fluff/light angst | read it here

friends are something that we were (before me sleeping in your shirt) by jiaras on ao3

the five times JJ and Kiara pretended to be a couple, and the one time they were

oneshot | 10K | romance/smut | read it here

What if... (slow and steady wins the race)? by TiggerUsername on ao3

the four times that JJ and Kiara are nearly caught and the one time where secrets become too much.

oneshot | 11K | romance/smut | read it here

i don’t wanna be your friend (i wanna kiss your lips) by @hmsjiara / someoneyouloved on ao3

the five times kiara thinks about kissing jj, and the one time she finally does it.

oneshot | 12.4K | angst/romance | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 6 - July 31st, 2020

FIRSTS DAY

i lost myself between your legs (oh the habits of my heart, i can't say no) by @hvitstark / RoseOfWinterfell on ao3

Kie ask JJ to be her first. Because she trusts him. No other reason. JJ agrees. Because he's a good friend. No other reason.

oneshot | 10.8K | romance/smut | read it here

you and i (on the fly) by capulets on ao3

jj takes kie out on his bike for the first time and realizes just how fucked he is.

oneshot | 2.9K | fluff | read it here

august slipped away (into a moment in time) by jiaras on ao3

Kiara is going off to college soon, and JJ is staying in Outer Banks.

They decide to practice being away from each other for a day, for the first time ever.

oneshot | 6K | comfort/angst | read it here

What if... (It's only three words, eight letters)? by TiggerUsername on ao3

JJ has had a lot of firsts in his life. But none of them compare to Kiara. They are eighteen when Kiara tells JJ to man up and make a move. Together they realise that firsts can be repeated. There is one first however that changes everything. Because neither of them have heard those three words, eight letter before.

oneshot | 7.3K | angst/hurt/comfort | read it here

✦ ✧ ✦

DAY 7 - August 1st, 2020

FREE/GENRE DAY

Aetea (still searching for a reason, why is it so hard to find one) by @anxietyismyspiritanimal / yawning_inF on ao3

All hell breaks loose when JJ returns 'home' for the first time after John B's disappearance.. Luckily for him, Kiara would have never let him go in the mouth of the wolf alone.

multichapter | 1.7K | angst | read it here

#jiara july

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thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars · 4 years

Text

Coming Home Part Four

Warnings: This part will only go as far as the show does but there will be mentions of the trauma and sexual assault from episode three and descriptions of wounds.

Hey guys! There are a lot of new people reading this series and I couldn’t be more grateful! I really hope everyone is enjoying it so far, I had a big brainstorming session today and oh boy I’m really hoping that you all will like where I’m going with the story. With that being said, enjoy part four and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list:)

JJ x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Kie looked back and forth between you and JJ and raised her voice excitedly. “Wait, is this the y/n.” JJ nodded in response, not taking his eyes off of you as he waited for your answer.

You knelt there in the sand mouth agape with tears still streaming down your face. The wind whipped your hair in front of your face, forcing you to bring your hand up and push it out of the way. As you moved your hair your blinked hard, wondering if this was all a dream. The searing pain from the cuts on your back and the bruises on your wrist told you otherwise. When you opened your eyes again you saw him standing there, you could not believe it. There he was, after all these years, JJ. He hadn’t changed or at least not to you. Yes his voice was deeper and he was significantly taller and stronger than the last time you saw him but something in your heart told you he was still the same JJ that you grew up with. In this moment of pure shock and confusion this feeling brought you the comfort you desperately needed and provided you enough strength to nod and weakly respond, “JJ”.

“Bug! I can’t believe its you.” JJ came running towards where you and Kie were kneeling in the sand. He opened his arms to embrace you but Kie held out her arm in front of you and gestured for JJ to look at your back.

JJ’s eyes grew wide and his jaw tensed as he took in the image of your blood soaked shirt. He pointed at your back and looked between you and Kie.

“Rafe did that?”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and nodded while barely managing to hold back a sob. He crouched down so that he was at eye level with you. JJ looked you dead in the eyes, his jaw was still tense but his eyes were compassionate and slightly worried. “Y/n, you’re safe now. I swear to god I am never going to let anything like this happen to you again.”

At the sight of his unchanged baby blue eyes you became slightly less on edge and were able to breathe somewhat normally for the first time since Rafe had pulled you down off the lifeguard chair. Moving for the first time since before he called your name you threw your arms around him and whispered in his ear, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

When you pulled away from the hug you could still see the worry in JJ’s eyes due to your still bleeding back and various bruises but he grinned and uttered, “Well here I am, live and in the flesh.”

Only JJ could make you giggle when things got dark. This moment proved that.

“Y/n, we really need to get you to the Chateau and clean you up. I’m really worried about your back, that does not look good.” said Kie softly as she stood up, taking the gold and string bracelets you held in your hand.

You tried to get up but they both stopped you.

“Easy there tiger.” said JJ as he pocketed the leather and sea glass bracelet before pulling you to your feet, bearing most of your weight. You put one arm on each of their shoulders as they walked you towards the parking lot in front of the boneyard. Once they had shifted you down onto a rock Kie ran back to the beach returning moments later with John B, Pope, and Sarah.

“Oh my god, y/n! What the hell happened?” Sarah gasped running towards where you were sitting.

Before you could open your mouth JJ answered. “Rafe happened.” Out of the corner of your eyes you saw him clench his fist, he was clearly furious.

“My fucking brother did this to you??” Sarah repeated lowering herself and taking your hands. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god when Ward hears about this Rafe is done for.”

You shook your head eyes lit up with fear as you began to shake and whimpered “Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell him.”

The Pogues all shot you a concerned and confused look.

“I don’t want him to get mad again.” “I don’t want him to come after me again.” “I don’t want him to come after you guys.” you cried, licking the salty tears that were now once again streaming down your face.

Sarah nodded, followed by JJ and Kie.

“Your secret is safe with me, until your ready to talk about it. I promise.” Sarah smiled comfortingly.

“We’ll be here when you’re ready.” said Kie stepping forward and putting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“And we will be here to protect you.” said JJ as he motioned over at Pope and John B.

You hadn’t even noticed them. They stood a few feet away, shell-shocked and trying to take in the scene before them. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing, or hearing. The two boys just stared at you, the gears in their brains turning as they tried to convince themselves that you were really in front of them again. Looking at them caused you to laugh out of nowhere.

“The two of you look like your heads are about to explode.” you laughed.

JJ, Kie, and Sarah were taken aback by the suddenness of your movement but once they turned to look at John B and Pope they joined in your laughter.

John B closed his mouth and muttered to Pope, “Yep that’s her.” and the two boys walked over to where you were sitting.

John B still clearly hadn’t processed what had happened nor heard what JJ and Sarah had said because once he reached you he pulled you into an enormous bear hug, causing you to yelp in pain.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry.” John B apologized as he looked down at his arms which now had a coating of your blood on them. He stumbled backward into Sarah and nearly taking the both of them out.

“Before you ask. I’ll explain what I can when we get back to the Chateau. But we really need to get y/n somewhere safe, and get her cleaned up.”

Everyone nodded in response to Kie’s statement, John B unlocked the van and hopped in the drivers side while JJ and Pope helped you into the back seat.

You had to sit forward to avoid bleeding on the seats. JJ sat on your right and rubbed your arm to comfort you. You were still shaking as the events of that night set in. He took out the bracelet from his pocked and whispered.

“I believe this is yours.”

“Well actually its yours. It’s your good luck charm. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be wearing bracelets for a while”, you help up your wrists to reveal a series of scratches and bruises from Rafe trying to pull the bracelets off of you.

“It’s ours.” JJ said putting it on his wrist. “For safe keeping, until you’re all healed up. What about the others?” he asked looking at you.

“I’ll put them in my nightstand until I’m healed up.” you pocketed the rest of them and took JJ’s hand.

“I never took it off you know. I promised myself that I wouldn’t take it off and I’d never break a promise, especially not one that involves you.”

“Not once? Like not even to shower or for a dance or whatever?”

“Not once.” you smiled looking into his eyes.

“Well then, now it’s my promise to keep you safe.” He ran his finger over the familiar beads of sea glass.

The van came to a halt and John B said “Home sweet home!”

The Chateau looked exactly as you remembered it. A flood of happy childhood memories came racing back and you couldn’t help but smile. Sarah opened the door of the van, Pope and Kie piled out, JJ helped you towards the door and out onto the yard. You took a deep breath, finding solace in the familiar sight.

“John B is Big John home!?”

He stopped on the porch and turned around looking at you with large sad eyes, he shook his head and said, “We have a lot to catch up on after you’re cleaned up.”

Kie took you into the bathroom while Sarah retrieved some extra pjs she had in John B’s room.

“Luckily were the same size, I’ll take your clothes home and wash them.” Sarah closed the bathroom door behind her. “You can tell your aunt and uncle that you and I stayed the night at Scarlet's and I’ll drop your clothes off later tomorrow and say that you forgot them.”

“Good idea.” you said as you tried to pull your shirt off over your head. You got it half way up your midriff before you winced in pain. Sarah and Kie had to help peel the shirt off of you the rest of the way. Kie gasped at your now exposed back. There were at least ten deep cuts and scrapes across your back from where you had hit the wall, they were all outlined in purple bruises, and your back was slick with a thin layer of blood.

Sarah teared up “I can’t believe he did this to you.”

“You know how kooks get when they’re drunk.” You leaned forward on the counter to allow Kie to unclasp your bra and clean off your back with a warm washcloth. Your face contorted as it dragged across your tender skin.

“Okay, this is not going to feel good but we need to flush the wounds with alcohol so they don’t get infected.” Kie spoke with a nervous tone, knowing how much pain this would cause you. “Ready?”

“Ready.” you assured her, Sarah grabbed your hand before Kie soaked the washcloth in rubbing alcohol and pressed it to your back. It caused an immediate burning sensation and you screamed in pain.

“Shh, she’s done.” Sarah soothed you.

From the living room the boys all shouted, “Everything alright in there?”

You shouted back hardly, “I’m good.”

“Y/n, you took that like a champ.” Kie said impressed.

“Did you not hear me scream?” you chuckled as the girls applied ointment and bandages to your back.

“Any of the boys would be crying.” Sarah stated handing you a loose t -shirt and sweats.

“Thank you” you smiled.

Once you changed and cleaned up the cuts on your wrist the three of you emerged.

The boys stood up. John B spoke first. “You okay Bug?”

“I’m okay” you assured him, taking a seat on the couch. JJ moved to the kitchen and grabbed you a glass of water an a PB and J sandwich.

“Here.”

You took the food and water while he sat next to you.

“Why do you guys keep calling her Bug?” Kie asked softly.

“It’s what my dad used to call her. And it just sort of stuck” John B answered.

“That’s what JJ and I knew her by when we first met her.” added Pope.

“I don’t think you guys called me by my real name for two days.”

“To be fair you never told us.” JJ remarked.

“You never asked.” You shot back wittingly.

“True.” They both nodded.

You placed the plate and the glass on the coffee table in front of you and leaned back into the couch. Finally, your body relaxed for the first time in hours. You turned your head toward John B.

“Where’s your dad?”

JJ gripped your hand as John B moved to sit across from you. They all launched into a story recounting the events of the past year.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry John B. That’s all so crazy guys.” You brought your hand up and ran it through your hair as your eyes filled with tears “And just when I thought I couldn’t lose anyone else.”

“What do you mean?” Pope asked shifting in his chair.

“My parents died in a car accident seven months ago.”

Everyone gasped.

“I’ve been back here for about a month now. My aunt and uncle are kooks, and they bought a house from Rose. Hence why I know Sarah and why I was...” you choked a little on your next few words “with Rafe.”

“Why didn’t you come find us when you got here?” JJ asked.

“I thought you guys wouldn’t want to see me, now that I’m technically a kook.”

“Pfft.” John B waved his hand at you. “Did you forget the tag line of the code?”

“Once a pogue, always a pogue.” Pope said smiling as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

You blushed wondering how you could have forgot. “Of course I didn’t forget.” your voice cracked.

“You’re an awful liar y/n, always have been.” John B said smugly.

“Ouch, that one really hurt Bookie.” you said as you put your hand over your heart melodramatically.

Everyone laughed.

“Jesus it’s 3 a.m.” JJ gasped glancing at the clock.

“Shit my dad is going to have my head, I’m supposed to be working tomorrow.” Pope took his hat off his head and pressed his palms to his forehead. He moved towards the door.

“Tell Hayward I said hi!! I’ve missed him so much.”

“Will do, come by at 12 tomorrow that’s when I get off, I’m sure dad would love to see you.” Pope said halfway out the door. “Later guys!”

“Later.” you all chorused.

You carefully got up and went to the closet where the extra blankets and pillows were. You grabbed one and returned to the couch and laid down.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing.” JJ asked sarcastically.

“I’m going to crash on the couch I can’t exactly go home right now.”

“Oh no that’s not what I meant. After everything you’ve been through tonight you really think I’m going to let you sleep on the couch?”

“Uhhh...”

“You can have my bed for the night. I’ll take the couch.”

“No JJ you don’t have too.”

“Yeah yeah. Up.” He ignored you and pulled you to your feet, practically carrying you to his room.

“Goodnight guys!”

“Goodnight” Kie, Sarah, and John B beckoned.

JJ laid you down in his bed and tucked you in. You were so drained that you fell asleep almost immediately. JJ gave you a kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Goodnight Bug, see you in the mornin sun.”

“Mmm. G’night J, see you in the sun.” With that you drifted into a deep sleep.

JJ turned off the light and glanced back at you before closing the door. He smiled at how peaceful you looked. He felt the butterflies that he had for you when he was twelve come back to life as he closed the door and snuggled up on the couch and fell asleep.

You woke up at 9:30 the next morning to the feeling of Kie and Sarah sinking onto the bed on either side of you. Sarah had a glass of water and some Advil and Kie had some toast and eggs on a plate for you. The boys were stood at the edge of the bed.

“Oh wow what good service” you yawned attempting to stretch set your back on fire. Seeing your face contort, Sarah reached out and handed the water and Advil to you, you took it gladly. After you carefully sat up Kie handed you your breakfast and smiled.

“Thank you guys, for everything.” “I’m so glad to be back here and to have you guys again, you have no idea.”

“We feel the same” John B said. “And that is why we plan to dedicate today to catching these to lovely ladies up to all the things we used to do, and all of our favorite places.”

“Oh!?”

JJ straightened himself upright and pointed his finger at the sky and said in an awful accent, “Today, we’re going on an adventure!”

“I can’t wait!” you clapped at their elaborate presentation of the days plans. “I have to go home first though, I’m sure my aunt and uncle are freaking out.”

“How are you going to explain this to them?” Kie gestured at your body, “Not to be rude but you kinda look bent out of shape, understandably so. What happened last night was awful.”

“Yeah umm...I don’t know how I’m going to explain this.”

“You could say you fell out of the lifeguard chair?” John B suggested. “They wouldn’t suspect too much, I mean you’re a bit of a klutz after all.”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea.” you nodded. “Can one of you drive me to the end of my street? I’m going to have to walk up my street since Rafe drove me and my aunt and uncle don’t know you guys yet.”

Kie responded immediately, “I’ll drop you off, I have to head that way before I go to work.”

“Sounds good.”

“Are you going to be able to walk?” Sarah and JJ asked together.

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” you answered them unconvincingly.

“Okay well its settled.” John B said with a clap before rubbing his hands together. “We’ll pick you up at around noon, stop by Hayward’s so you can say hi, grab Pope, and then we’ll be off.”

“Okie dokie.”

“Let’s get going y/n, I’m sure your aunt and uncle are worried sick.” Sarah stood and helped you out of bed.

As soon as you opened the door to your house you were met with your aunt’s embrace. She yelled to your uncle, Bill don’t call Ward she’s home. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’ve been worried out of our minds, why didn’t you text us and let us know you weren’t coming home? Please tell me you didn’t.. you know, with Rafe? Oh my god what happened to you!!??”

“I’m sorry Auntie, my phone died I would have texted if I could. I spent the night at Scarlet’s with Sarah after the party. And god no. I fell out of the lifeguard chair last night, my foot slipped as I was trying to get down. I scraped my back up pretty badly but I’m okay Sarah patched me up.” you lied through your teeth and smiled at your loving aunt.

“Okay good. I’m glad you’re alright.” “Lets get you a shower.”

You moved upstairs and while you were in the shower your aunt laid out your favorite sundress on your bed and she also took out your much loved white converse. She sat on your bed waiting for you so she could help re bandage the scrapes on your back.

“Are you sure you’re okay sweetheart?”

“Yes I’m sure auntie.” “I’m a tough cookie.” you giggled.

“All done!” “Do you need any Advil or heat or something for your back?”

“No Scarlet gave me some before I left.”

“Okay I’ll let you get dressed. I’m downstairs if you need anything.”

“Thank you auntie.” you turned and smiled at her. “See you in a bit.”

By now you were used to the soreness, and the Advil had definitely helped. The events of last night hadn’t really sunk in just yet and you tried your best to focus on the wonderful day you were about to have. Glancing in the mirror for the first time since last night you realized you really did look worse for wear. Their was a light bruise on your face from where Rafe had slapped you in addition to the bruises on your leg and wrists. You didn’t even want to know what your back looked like. Yet for the first time in a long time you felt like yourself. Now that you had the Pogues back in your life you felt like you could conquer the world. You huffed a piece of your long wavy hair out of your face before heading downstairs to meet your aunt and uncle.

“Hey do you mind if I go out with Sarah later?”

“No of course not, as long as your safe.” your uncle responded.

Ding dong! The doorbell rang.

“I got it!”

You opened the door and your heart sank. Standing opposite you was none other than Rafe Cameron.

I know this was a long one and I hope you all liked it. If anyone ever needs anything, wants to give me feedback, or just wants to chat please message me! Lets be friends:))

@tangledinsparkles @hopelesswritingxd @im-a-stranger-thing @jenahbell @annedub @hmspxgue @harrysbbby

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datninjalyfe · 4 years

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Stay, Part 1: Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Selfish Needs

Katsuki tried so hard to remember how it happened last time. How he and Izuku had even gotten to be alone together in the first place. They hadn’t really even said anything. They both just kind of read each other’s minds. They synced together in a really harmonious kind of way and Katsuki didn’t know how to recreate that moment. A text caught him off guard and he told Todoroki and Izuku to go ahead without him. He waited and read the message from his mother: School called today. We need to talk.

“Shit.” Katsuki said aloud. He thought about calling her, right then and there. He could just use his quirk to warm his body in the cold.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” a voice said from behind him. His quirk was set off slightly, but he suddenly grabbed his arms, muffling the crackling sounds when he saw Camie.

“What the fuck?” he asked her. She exhaled deeply towards him and a phantom-like heart-shape flew out of her mouth. “I could have killed you!”

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” her voice was so sensual. “But I originally came here to see your friend. We were going to meet up, but then I saw you and thought, ‘Hmmmm, how do I get that yummy thing again?’” She giggled. “Care to join us?” she said, eyeing him up and down. The heart disappeared into the air when it touched his face. He shook his head, but when he took a step forward, she jumped in front of him.

“Fuck, Camie. I can’t.” he told her, pushing her out of his way. “Have fun with Kirishima.”

She pouted and said playfully, “Aw, but I wanted to have fun with you!” She grabbed the top of his pants, and started to unfasten his belt and for a moment, he didn’t want to stop her. But when he looked down, the red light on his ankle bracelet blinked at him—a reflection in the snow, reminding him that he really needed to get back to the dorms.

“No.” he said sternly as the lazily snowfall began to swirl in the wind.

“Let’s keep the night going. I didn’t know how strong you’re quirk had gotten until the other night and I have to say,” she stood on her toes to reach his ear and whispered, “That really turns me on—,” He used an arm and pushed her out of the way.

“If you want me to use my quirk to move you, I will.” he stared down at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I just—I don’t get to have fun. And the other night was so great. I hadn’t ever done anything like what we did. I was just looking for it again.”

“I have other things to focus on.” he said sharply. But she placed her hand on the front of his pants. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air. “Don’t look so desperate.”

Her face drastically changed into slightly into a confused look, but there was a hint of jealousy in her eyes. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” she asked. “Isn’t there?!”

‘How the fucking hell did she know?’ He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“Who is she?” She thought for a moment. “Is it the girl with the creation quirk? Or the pink one who can spit acid or whatever?”

He huffed, but then asked himself: ‘Christ, has she studied our whole fucking class?’ Not wanting to listen anymore, he shrugged, putting one of his headphones back in his ear, and started to walk away. “Let it go, Camie. Let’s just call what happened the other night a one-time thing and move on.” he said. “Try not to corrupt Kirishima.” he said, walking away. To make sure she didn’t follow him, he turned around before entering the dorm and she was gone.

He walked to his room and seeing his school work, he picked it up and unlocked his door. The amount of work he had to complete before tomorrow was insane, but he remembered he’d been gone for a while, so he figured Izuku had completed at least some of it. He hummed and took his blue P.E. uniform off. Trying to get his pants over his ankle bracelet was rough, but he wasn’t going to let it deter him. He was going to see Izuku. Tonight. To at least just ask Izuku to hold him if nothing else. “I need a fucking shower.” Wrapping a towel around his waist, he opened his bathroom door that was in his room and turned the water on. Steam started to fill the bathroom, but just before getting in, he heard a loud knock at his door.

‘Izuku?’ he thought, his mind totally fixated. He rushed to the door to find not Izuku, but Mr. Aizawa. He gulped. ‘Fuck, could the ankle bracelet read minds too? Did Aizawa know what he was planning?’ “Today’s lesson was hard enough and I have a lot of school work to do, so make this quick.”

Aizawa crossed his arms. “I’ll dismiss the tone, but lose the attitude. Anyway, that girl you went to see from Shiketsu?” he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding up a picture of Camie. “We got a call from her school. Apparently, she’s missing.”

Finally, someone fucking noticed she was gone. “No, she isn’t. I saw her on the walk home.” Aizawa’s hair started to go up and Bakugou changed his tone slightly. “She’s an illusionist and I walked into her trap by accident. But don’t worry, I’m here for the night.”

The question arose in his mind: should he tell Aizawa that maybe he should check on Shitty Hair? He thought about the other day, how if the boys had just told the teachers what they thought Katsuki was going to do instead of fighting them, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe Izuku wouldn’t have gotten hurt because of him. He sighed and told Aizawa, “She and Kirishima have been texting each other. He mentioned to me that he wanted to go see her.”

“He—what? He can’t leave his room with the faculty knowing.” Aizawa said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a tracking device. There were four green dots on it and when Aizawa hit a button, the screen changed to a 3D layout of the building, also showing where they were.

“He’s figured out a way to take it off—” Katsuki said under his breath, but didn’t get a chance to finish. Upon hearing that, Aizawa ran down the hall and pushed the door to the stairs open. A few of the students opened their doors, exchanging looks with one another. Katsuki, realizing he was still in a towel, moved back into his room, closing the door and then, with his back pressed against it, sank to the floor. “Why can’t I just see him?” He covered his face with his hands, breathing heavily. After this, Aizawa would for sure make sure the boys couldn’t leave their rooms. Remembering the water was still on from his shower, he decided taking one would be a good thing.

Once inside, he pictured holding Izuku, their naked bodies pressed against one another. Water hitting their shoulders, dripping down the sides of Izuku’s lean torso. He pictured what the water would do to the wet curls, bending the hair into soft waves. Katsuki leaned his back against the cold tile, letting his dick grow in his hands as he thought about the two of them. The water wasn’t nearly as hot now and despite that, Katsuki let it run down his body.

But just as he started to enjoy himself, the school alarms went off. He cursed, knowing exactly why: Shitty Hair wasn’t in his room.

---

Katsuki found himself literally being thrown on the floor in Aizawa’s room next to Kaminari. He was hoping Izuku might be next to come in, but it was just the two of them. He knew exactly why he was there, but Kaminari, too?

“I’ll get to the point: Where is Kirishima?” Aizawa asked. The two of them said nothing, only looking up at their teacher. “You two have information about it, so tell me.” They were both quiet until they heard Mr. Aizawa’s raised voice say, “I know both of you know something of importance.”

“I already told you, he’s going to see that Shiketsu girl.” Katsuki reminded him. “Earlier during our lunch break, we were talking and he has this fantasy that—,” he thought for a moment before saying, “—that it’ll somehow many him more of a man.”

Kaminari added, “He said something about a sort of group thing?” Even Katsuki could tell me knew something more. He was a terrible liar.

Aizawa stood up straight. “What group?”

“He said he was going to a quirk fight.” Kaminari said at last.

Aizawa closed his eyes. “Well, this should be interesting.”

“What’s a quirk fight?” Katsuki asked.

“Illegal underground fights take place between groups. There are really no rules to these fights.”

“Like the sports festival?” Katsuki asked.

“No. They are normally fights to the death.” Aizawa told them. Katsuki blinked. How does Camie know where one is? But he truthfully didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Like he was going to read Katsuki’s mind, Aizawa asked, “Is Kirishima going to fight?”

Kaminari raised his shoulders. “I really don’t know.”

“Do you Bakugou?” Aizawa asked.

Katsuki shook his head. “This is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

“Fine.” But the way he said it made Katsuki think Aizawa didn’t believe him. Not that Katsuki could blame his teacher. “This does not give you an excuse to be reckless and take matters into your own hands. Go back to bed.”

The boys left, but there was a sullen feeling in the air. An illegal fight? If Kirishima fought—'NO!’ His mind yelled at him. His friend is not dead. Did he owe Kirishima? He didn’t even know where to start looking. Kirishima was powerful, but all it takes is someone with a strong quirk to out match him and he’s gone.

He unlocked his phone and sent a text: ‘Shitty Hair, you better be okay.’ But no response came. It didn’t even say he read the message. On the way back to their rooms, it looked like everyone from the class had gathered together. No doubt by now, they had all figured out what was going on. They all looked at the two of them, a few asking questions, which Kaminari answered hesitantly.

“Are you okay?” Kaminari asked as Katsuki passed him on his way to his room. He stopped and turned around.

All eyes were on him. He could feel them. But no, he wasn’t okay. He should have told Kirishima weeks ago he didn’t want to text Camie to ask her to come to the fucking dance. Katsuki knew she was a wild card, yet he contacted her anyway. He even fucked her, probably making Kirishima feel like once again he was beneath Katsuki and less of a man. Katsuki’s eyes wandered around the room until they fell onto Izuku.

“I’m going to bed. None of you extras go after him or I’ll kick your ass.”

The others turned their attention to Kaminari, who was answering their questions as best he could. He started to walk away when he heard, “I’m worried about you, Kacchan.” Izuku told him.

‘He…what?’ Katsuki turned and almost regretted doing so. Izuku was standing so close to him. ‘Why? Has it always been you?’ He was so damn cute. Even in this moment, Izuku’s curly hair was disheveled and he had dark circles under his eyes—he probably hadn’t gotten much sleep either, with all the extra work Aizawa gave them. But there was concern in his eyes. Of course he was concerned for Kirishima, but it was deeper than that. Katsuki would know that look anywhere: Izuku was worried about him. Katsuki stepped towards him and asked, “Can we talk?”

Izuku looked a little surprised at that. “Right now?”

“Yeah, now.” Katsuki said. He looked at the group of people in the common area, and whispered, “But it can’t be here.”

“We could go to my room?” Izuku said. His room? He could feel his heart beating hard against his ribcage and has never agreed to anything faster. The two of them walked over to the elevator and the doors opened. He was so ready, after everything that had happened, to just be alone with Izuku. As they entered the elevator together, Katsuki’s happiness soon disappeared because before the doors shut, he saw a hand stop them from closing entirely. The doors reopened and in walked Shinsou.

He entered the elevator and when the doors shut, Katsuki asked, “What the hell do you want?”

“I have a question for the both of you.” Shinsou said. He looked at Katsuki. The elevator started to move as he asked, “I could put you both to sleep tonight if you wanted. Kaminari asked me for the same thing a couple nights ago. The effects seem to wear off when I fall asleep, so if it’d be hard for you guys—,”

Everyone was quiet in the elevator and they all got off at Izuku’s floor. “Sure.” Izuku said at last. “It’ll keep me from wanting to go get him. Kacchan said he wanted to talk to me first—,”

“We’ll talk later or whatever.” Katsuki said. Maybe this was a sign? “Just try not to do anything stupid, nerd.”

“Yeah, you too.” Izuku said before heading off into his room. Katsuki got a quick peek at his ass as he walked away. He smirked as he got on the elevator, but just before the doors closed, Izuku took one look back, over his shoulders at Katsuki. Katsuki shuddered at the quick glance from Izuku. It took all of Katsuki’s might to not tell Shinsou to go fuck himself, step off the elevator and go after him.

But the doors closed and Katsuki took a quick look at Shinsou. “You know I hate you, right?”

Shinsou shrugged his shoulders and placed a hand behind his head. “A couple of the other students asked me to put them to sleep for the night. School’s been cancelled for tomorrow, so you could probably sleep in if you wanted to. I thought you wouldn’t get any sleep otherwise.” Shinsou said calmly.

“Who else are you putting to sleep?” Katsuki asked.

“So far just Kaminari and Midoriya. But I assume others will ask as well.” Shinsou said. “It’s a simple yes or no. I just thought I’d ask since he was your friend.”

The elevator door opened on their floor and they stepped out. The obvious answer for Shinsou was yes, but Katsuki had been looking forward to seeing Izuku alone. He didn’t even want sex, he just wanted Izuku, to be in his arms, having Izuku rub his shoulders, run his fingers through his hair. “Up to you. I’ll be awake for a bit and I’m only down the hall from you. Let me know—,”

“Yes!” Katsuki said loudly. Katsuki cleared his throat. “Yes, I want you to put me to sleep.” Shinsou started to walked away as an idea popped into Katsuki’s head. “Shinsou!” Shinsou stopped walking and turned. Katsuki walked over to him and said quietly, “I have a request.”

Shinsou raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really take requests. But I guess since you’re the one who is probably affected by this the most, then it depends on what it is.”

They were now in front of Katsuki’s door. “I want you to change your voice.”

“What?” Shinsou asked.

“I just—it’s my fault Kirishima’s out there.” Katsuki told him.

“So, you want me to change my voice to Kirishima’s?” Shinsou asked. “That’s what you’re asking?”

“No. Not exactly.” Katsuki said. He opened his door and pulled Shinsou inside the dark room. “The other night, Deku and I—I don’t know how to explain it, but he kind of lured me to sleep.”

Shinsou didn’t seem surprised. “Huh. You want me to change my voice to Midoriya? Why not actually get him to—lure you back to—,”

“Dammit, I know how it sounds!” Katsuki banged his hands against the desk. A small crackle came from his hands. “But it’s not like that. And we’re on house arrest and Aizawa can track our movements through the dorm.” Katsuki said. “Otherwise, I would have asked him to help me out in person.”

Shinsou thought about it for a moment before saying, “How did he lure you to sleep?”

Katsuki’s didn’t make eye contact with Shinsou as he said, “He just held me.”

“That’s it then, huh?” Shinsou asked and Katsuki nodded. “Sure, get into bed and close your eyes. Otherwise you’ll know it’s just me. I’m gonna go get the voice changer.” Katsuki climbed into bed, hearing the door close behind him. He pulled the blanket over him and waited for a moment before hearing a knock at the door.

“Kacchan?” chills ran down Katsuki’s spine at the sound. “Kacchan, it’s me.” the voice said. Katsuki’s heart pounded loudly in his chest. It sounded exactly like Izuku, but Katsuki knew better than to open his eyes. If he saw that it was Shinsou with his voice changer, he would certainly feel differently. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Come in, nerd.” Katsuki said, closing his eyes tighter hearing the creak of the door open and close behind him. His head suddenly became lightheaded as he heard two footsteps enter the room. He exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath the whole time.

“Kacchan.” the voice said again and he felt a weight at the foot of the bed. “Let me hold you again. Like the other night.” Katsuki nodded and wanted to open his eyes as he felt the weight on the bed shift. The weight of a body overtook him, mounting from atop Katsuki. Don’t you dare open your eyes. he told himself. Just let this happen. “Don’t move. Keep your eyes closed.” The flute whispered, feeling a warm breath on his ear. He felt even more lightheaded than before, but his eyes were now sealed shut. So, this is what it’s like to be brainwashed by Shinsou? It feels so real. He felt strong fingers wrap around the back of his neck.

“Shinsou—,” Katsuki started to say, but the other hand covered his mouth.

“I’m not Shinsou.” The hand moved away from his mouth and he felt warm lips press against his, softly at first like kissing a cloud. Katsuki started to move his hands, to touch him, to feel his body, but his wrists were grabbed and he was pinned against his mattress. “Don’t move again or I’ll leave. Nod if you understand.” It was Izuku’s voice, but there was no whine, no strain in it. It was commanding. Katsuki nodded. He felt the heat from his body melt through him. He didn’t care if this was Shinsou or not, Katsuki wanted it. Their lips crashed together again, kissing until they were both gasping for air. He tasted citrus tea and as saliva was swapped, passion pulsed through him. He couldn’t tell if he tasted desire or if it was his own that he drank up. He was so sure it was Izuku, refusing to listen to the persistent doubts in his mind. “Do you want this from me, Kacchan?”

“I want you, Deku.”

“Then sleep, Kacchan.” and Katsuki’s world went almost immediately black.

(previous)(next)

#bakudeku #bakugou x midoriya #mha bakugou #bakugou x deku #izubaku #mha midoriya #katsudeku #izukatsu #katsuki x izuku #myfic #myficstay

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mirage-krp · 3 years

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The guardians welcome [ MIN, SUNKYU ] to the city of Jeonseol. He is [ A GUMIHO ] currently living in [ AZURITE ] and working as [ A NURSE ] at [ JEONSEOL HOSPITAL ].

Welcome to Mirage! Please follow the admin twitter within 48 hours of your acceptance.

Faceclaim: choi yeonjun of tomorrow by together (txt)

Name: min sunkyu

Nickname(s): n/a

Age: 1813

Date of birth: july 28, 207

Species/myth/cryptid/etc:

kumiho/gumiho

a nine-tailed fox with transformative abilities. they often take on the likeness of a full human or a human with a pair of fox ears and nine tails, luring unsuspecting humans in through primarily seductive means to feast on their liver and/or heart. kumiho own yeowoo guseul, which are beads that consist of knowledge and are the main source of a kumiho’s energy; they are also used to absorb others’ energy. yeowoo guseul can be stolen and used to provide power and knowledge to whomever takes it. it is said that a kumiho may become human if it can abstain from eating humans for a thousand days.

in sunkyu’s case, he harbors the ability to transform from his human likeness into his true form of a nine-tailed fox and anything in-between. he may also change any of his skin-deep features and mimic the appearance of others, though not entirely; there will always be something inherently foxy about his appearance no matter who it is he mimics, and it is typically attributed to sharp eyes or teeth. he is also stronger than a human and possesses sharp nails that can extend to act as claws if need be. on the subject of yeowoo guseul, he owns a good many and typically wears twelve of them as a bracelet on his right wrist; he uses them just as others would to absorb energy from others. they take the form of small, bluish-white beads that resemble pearls. lastly, sunkyu is able to communicate with foxes quite easily.

Weaknesses:

yeowoo guseul are just as much of a weakness as they are a strength. should any of them be stolen from him, he’ll experience a feeling of fatigue in proportion to the amount of beads missing from him (i.e., losing two would make him feel very tired and drained for somewhere between one and three days, whereas losing four would make him feel that way more intensely and for much longer). if sunkyu were to lose all of his yeowoo guseul, he would become weak until he either acquired some form of energy equivalent or died.

sunkyu must be careful of what — or who, rather — he eats. while he can carry on a normal omnivorous diet just like anyone else, being a kumiho means that he often ventures beyond that. humans are all fair game, though he is unable to properly digest certain other species. any species devoid of a heartbeat or with odd genetics that prevent the formation of human-like blood cells and organ structures fall under the category of difficult to impossible to digest, and it would make him sick to attempt consuming them.

although he can hold himself over for around six months with only the energy he gathers from his yeowoo guseul, sunkyu will feel a sense of hunger that increases over time if he doesn’t feast in that time frame. should he go for a few years this way, he will feel extremely weak and, eventually, become so hunger-driven that he is willing to consume whomever is around him at the time.

dogs (including species similar to dogs, such as wolves) are sunkyu’s worst nightmare. they can pick up his fox-like scent, and (although he’ll seldom admit to it) he’s quite uneasy around them.

as kumiho are of malignant nature, those empowered by faith or of pure disposition (i.e., angels) are able to see through his illusions.

Favourite song or quote: queen of broken hearts by blackbear

Residence: azurite 4

Occupation: nurse at jeonseol hospital

Personality:

(+) outgoing, witty, adventurous, charismatic

(+/-) cunning, confident, observant, noncommittal

(-) vain, deceitful, somewhat fickle and selfish

Background:

as a red fox in the forests of the southern korean peninsula, sunkyu’s lifespan should’ve lasted somewhere around five years. his recollection of that time is sparse, remembering only short snippets of hunting, burrowing, and growing ever older as his pack would die out time and time again. he remembers his behavior gradually becoming odd to the foxes around him; although this species isn’t known for hibernation, he became so bored with his repetitive life that he would sleep for hours on end — hours turned into days, days into weeks, and weeks into months. surely, that must’ve been the beginning of his consciousness evolving.

one day, he awoke from what must have been a three or four-month-long slumber to the foxes around him sniffing insistently; they seemed concerned yet still able to distinguish him as one of them. sunkyu was just as confused as the rest of them at first, only realizing the clear differences between himself and his pack upon standing up on not paws, but feet. and surely, that must’ve been the beginning of his being evolving.

the shift in his physical and mental state was not accompanied by anything grand; he had no one to guide him on his new life, and, at first, he simply tried to live with the pack just as he had done before because it was familiar to him. through this, he gained an understanding that he could shift from the form of a fox with nine tails to a more human one. however, he couldn’t understand the insistent feeling of hunger slowly consuming him. no matter how much he ate with the others, he never felt full. this feeling is what led him to finally venture to see humans that traveled to busan’s outskirts. it wasn’t that he had never interacted with humans, no— at times, humans would come into the forest he and his packs occupied, but he had never interacted with one so directly. at first, it felt odd to appear as a human and speak with one, but the closer he became to them, the hungrier he felt. from there, it was as if his body knew exactly what to do — and in turn, his mind consciously acknowledged it and learned. although he doesn’t remember the occasion any longer, it was the time he began to understand what he wanted and how to get it.

throughout countless years after this, he stayed at the forest’s edge and tempted unsuspecting humans to consume them in the end. he learned how to use his yeowoo guseul to further sustain himself, continuing on like this until boredom threatened to consume him and reports of missing persons gathered heftily to the point of humans no longer freely exploring the forest he inhabited. when the humans became too sparse and the boredom too frequent, he decided to move on.

he began to participate in human life, moving to busan and parading as the species he so loved to consume under the name of heesung. countless more years passed like this until history repeated itself; heesung became bored of his surroundings, and far too many people were being reported as missing or dead. in the end, he moved to miryang, and then from daegu to andong, from andong to jecheon— and so on. it wasn’t until he began yet another life in seoul under yet another name (minsoo, this time) that anything of note occurred.

life in seoul was different; the city was large and opportunity often hit him square in the face. the humans there interested him, and over a thousand years of life brought him the knowledge he needed to pursue them in a way that wasn’t as abrupt as nightly seductions. he decided to attend seoul national university due to the large population of students in the city, and he was beyond tricky enough to get in and enroll in one of the longest programs: medical school. he lived as a student just as anyone else, sometimes venturing out at night to catch a meal off-campus only to come back to his dorm before the next morning came.

at university, minsoo was a social butterfly that kept up good grades and paid for tuition through the money he’d stolen over the years from his victims. when classes became stressful, he ate more and found solace in the human friends he’d made as well as his visits to forests near the han river. by his fifth year at university, he found a girl he cared for dearly; for him, such a feeling was foreign but far from unwelcome. jihye was a medical student just like him, and she carried an air of maturity and charisma around her that was enthralling. the two would often study together and do trivial things such as getting coffee or food, but minsoo found every activity pleasurable so long as she was there. for once, there was a human he didn’t want to consume; he wanted to live with her and carry on his life alongside her.

they became college sweethearts and fuel for one another, and minsoo was so taken by her that he resolved to do his best to become what she was: human. they went through medical school and graduate school together, and minsoo did his best to ignore the nagging hunger constantly dragging him down; the happiness he felt with her was far more important to him than whatever weakness was slowly but surely consuming him. “i’ll become human and never feel this hunger again if i hold on a little longer,” he’d tell himself. if only he knew it would take a thousand more years for that to happen, he’d understand his struggle was hopeless in every possible way.

in the end, minsoo couldn’t keep the promise he’d made to her or to himself. his promise of a long, happy life with jihye was broken the very night hunger overtook him. these memories are so far suppressed in his mind that the only recollection he allows is jihye’s shocked face upon seeing the minsoo she loved so profoundly sporting fox ears and nine tails, and her shy smile as she told him that it was okay, she loved him anyway. “they’re cute. they fit you,” she’d tell him, yet silence and the smell of blood hung thick in the air only a few hours later. the full realization of what he’d done only settled in the next day, with her corpse slowly beginning its decay in his apartment. that was the day he fully gave in to the nature of a kumiho once more; he noted his efforts as useless as sadness and anger set deep into his heart.

the short-lived frenzy he went into after jihye’s passing was brutal, to say the least. he’d begun work at a hospital alongside her, and he continued going to work without her. questions of her whereabouts were met with lies of “i don’t know” and “she hasn’t been talking to me lately.” to a certain extent, everyone around minsoo and even minsoo himself knew the things he said had no possibility of being true; he cared not for that, though. he locked it away in his head and allowed himself to become reckless at his job, consuming brain-dead and hopeless patients even if a part of him knew it would end badly for himself.

lo and behold, it did just that: hardly a week of this passed before he was caught. the humans called him a monster, and rightfully so; what kind of nurse would consume patients?

minsoo did the only thing he could at that point in time: he fled and threw away his life in seoul in an attempt to bypass the repercussions of his actions. he threw away his name, his connections, and his physical form for the longest time and made a home in a forest as far away from seoul as possible. he went back to living as a fox, sporting nine tails as the others around him only sported one, and avoiding humans altogether beyond going out to seduce and later consume them whenever hunger arose.

and again, the fox found his life becoming boring and repetitive. he couldn’t live this way, especially not with a more advanced consciousness than the foxes surrounding him. he found that interaction with others was something he needed lest he become lonely and bitter, yet he also found that living with humans again held the potential for history to repeat itself. what was he to do, then?

it took hardly any deliberation after the knowledge of jeonseol found him for him to decide living there would be the best option available to him. jeonseol would be a safe haven where he wouldn’t have to consistently disguise himself, and so he adopted the name of sunkyu and made his way there. his past work as a nurse in seoul made it easy to work at the hospital in jeonseol so long as he ignore his bitter memories. the potential life he could make for himself here far outweighs going back to the humans’ domain, at the very least.

Any wanted connections?: n/a

#m:accepted #fc:choi yeonjun

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friendlylocalwhumper · 5 years

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It was right. It was the right thing to do. They’re bad people, and you don’t give wishes to bad people. Not even if they advance, shoulders set with anger. Not even if they grab, and tug, and shove. Not even if they threaten to do very frightening things.

Nadeem knows that he did the right thing, and that it’s brave to hold his position. This knowledge doesn’t do much for him right now, though.

The space is dark and the air stuffy, in this compartment under the shopkeep’s counter. At least he was shoved in facing sideways so there’s space for him to hunch over and rest his elbows on his thighs; at least the muzzle is taken off when he’s stored away, so he can breathe through his mouth when the panic grows and threatens to suffocate him.

He knows when morning has come, when the horizon is soon to crack open into orange light and dew ready to bead on blades of grass out in the cool fresh air, because the shopkeep unlocks and opens the store’s back door with a jingle of keys and a scraping against the floor. Another night wasted, sleepless; Nadeem squeezes his arms against his chest while he still can in an attempt to relish the last moments of rest for his aching muscles.

The wood paneling of the counter’s storage compartment slides open and the human crouches down to peer in at his captive djinn. “Sleep well?” He asks, not expressly sadistic but cruel at the very least. Nadeem tries, in his rebellious silence, not to let too much misery show in his pale eyes. The man tries again for a reaction, eyes hard. “Want to give me those wishes yet, or would you prefer another full day at work? My dinner won’t be ready ‘til late tonight, so you’ve got an eighteen hour day ahead of you. Give me my wishes now and you can walk free before sunrise.”

Nadeem’s eyes flit down to the horrid thing in the human’s hand. The muzzle, wide leather with buckles. “You don’t have to do this. I - perhaps if you let me go, I’ll see it as a change of heart, and you’ll be worthy of wishes?” It’s a lie, a desperate lie. It won’t work, but it’s the best he can come up with without compromising his morals. “This will not earn you your wishes or, or the honor that you lack, it is only - hnn! Only needless suffering!” His voice rises in pitch as he turns his head away in an attempt to escape the leather being lifted to his face. A fistful of long silvery hair is grabbed to yank his head back and expose his head enough to work the muzzle around it. Finally, after a moment of adjusting and yanking, it’s in place, fitted snugly over Nadeem’s mouth and down under his jaw, his nose left uncovered to guarantee that he won’t even get to pass out as some wretched form of rest before the shop’s closing.

The punishing grip on his wrist makes Nadeem think twice about struggling, and the tugging to get him out of the compartment makes him give a muffled wail behind the muzzle. Thin, solid metal bracelets encircle his wrists, connected with a thin chain that runs through his nose ring. It all seems sos fragile but no amount of pulling or yanking has brought an ounce of progress toward freedom, only sudden sharp pain.

He’s hauled to his feet and pushed across the large room to his spot by the door. Nadeem always stands up on his tiptoes and clumsily looks out the glass panes on the shop’s front door before he’s maneuvered to kneel on the decorative mat that lies up against the wall.

Then, he sits on his heels, legs bent beneath him how they will be for too many hours. How they were in that other human’s cellar - and recalling that always makes his ribs ache, the brand burned into his abdomen, his eyes which stung from weeks of being kept open as he was denied sleep…

The first customer comes in, the door setting off a little bell that jingles the tinny greeting of a shop ready to draw in coin. Nadeem straightens his back and lifts his hands from their lazy dangling position designed so he looks like a begging animal. The chain between his elegant restraints is short enough that his elbows can’t even rest against the sides of his torso. The tremors will set in soon.

The djinn holds his hands together, palms facing up, the position mostly hiding the muzzle. He looks up at the customer, pale blue eyes searching, as they do each day, for mercy.

The guest politely puts a coin in one of his palms and then strides further inside to shop.

Fifteen more hours, Nadeem thinks to himself, every muscle in his arms burning. He stares at the coin because he has little else to do. He must make a good decoration to so often get coins out of even the most picky of shoppers who stop by. Twenty-seven coins he’s earned the shopkeep, in four days.

This is humiliating. It’s exhausting, and - and it may not compare in the slightest to what the frightening human did to him in the cellar, but it’s still awful. He’s in distress, he is… but perhaps not much, if no one has come for him. Maybe aching arms and a sore face and pained legs don’t really add up to his qualifying as someone who needs rescuing. A few more days, maybe. A few more days so that the pain grows unbearable and he flops down onto the floor, utterly refusing to comply, and he gets nearly killed in the shopkeep’s rage. Maybe then a Paladin… maybe then she’ll find him.

Where is the shopkeep? Nadeem cranes his neck, leaning up on his knees as he searches for the human who holds him captive. He needs help, needs this small human to be pulled away.

A child gawks at him, hands roaming across the muzzle and tugging on his hair. The djinn whines softly, trying to tip his head away, but the child squeals with joy at the challenge and stands on his lap, shoes digging into the fabric of his pants and getting dirt on the material that the shopkeep ensures is spotless. Then, the worst thing, what he was hoping she’d neglect to try: the chain. The slender silver chain that catches the light and looks like dancing diamonds to a small human’s eyes. She grabs the chain and yanks with grubby hands.

Nadeem yelps, barely making a sound from behind the leather wrapped around his face. His head follows the pull of his chain, hands dangling uselessly, as she guides him up off his mat and onto the floor like a dog. Babbling and beaming, she pulls, tugging harshly on the ring that he wears pierced in his septum as a bit of self-indulgence.

The problem is that he can’t crawl. His arms can’t be used like that right now, his hands can’t reach the floor. So he topples forward, bent over, and still she pulls. Trying now to yell in pain, Nadeem grabs the chain pulled taut and tries to yank it out of her hand; she lets go, surprised, and promptly breaks into loud, dramatic sobs.

Nadeem’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s done. He should have let her yank the ring straight out, blood spilling and all, because then he could have pushed himself up to his feet and run. Or he could have bled, and proved he was submissive, and perhaps earned a night’s rest in a bed instead of in the counter’s storage compartment.

But the girl cries, and the mother runs in, and there is yelling. The djinn curls up on the floor, taking blows from the woman’s purse. After being shooed out with apologies and compensation from the shopkeep, Nadeem hides more desperately against the floor. There will be consequences for the scene he caused.

“Worthless djinn,” The human growls, yanking Nadeem up by his ponytail. Nadeem holds his arms up, of course, to lessen the strain on his nose ring, and of course it looks like he’s begging openly, hands hanging up by his collarbones, eyes wide with terror. “Lost me a customer. You’re hardly worth the coin you bring in.” A harder tug on his hair makes Nadeem crane his neck up as the man leans down further to snarl in his face. “Do you want to be kept under the counter for the rest of the day?”

The djinn moans his answer, held too strictly to be able to shake his head, muzzle too firmly fitted to allow him the chance to say no, not that, please. How many hours left before closing, fourteen? Plus the night before tomorrow’s sunrise, that would make twenty-two hours trapped in that small space, scarcely able to breathe. No, he wouldn’t be able to, he could not take that… the djinn’s eyes widen slightly. Oh, maybe that’s what he needs. That long in a space about the size of his folded-up body, a muzzle suffocating him, restraints wearing his muscles down into bands of flame.

He gives a slight nod, and the human’s face turns an odd color. Red, almost.

“You want that? Fine, you dumb beast. Come on.” Nadeem is dragged back across the room. He tries to keep up. “The muzzle stays on. You go in the tight way.” Facing the sliding door, not sideways to allow him to bend over and expand his ribcage all the way. The dark-skinned being quivers.

Into the compartment he goes with bruising shoves from the shopkeep’s hands, and Nadeem digs his nails under the edges of the muzzle in a bid for an ounce of cool air against the hot damp skin underneath. His forehead rests against the sliding door, chin resting on his knees. This is better. No one can drag him around in here. He’ll pass out within the hour, he thinks, with how his chest is compressed and how dizzy he’s already grown from the smell of sweat-dampened leather. Maybe if he was beaten, a paladin would come save him. Maybe if he had broken bones, maybe if his warded brand was active and keeping him from sleep instead of something easy to overcome like fear-induced insomnia. If he was really truly suffering an unjust torment, he’d be rescued.

He will just wait until he can’t breathe much anymore, until exhaustion makes his mind drift and his thoughts go hazy. If he could grant the man’s wishes, he could, but his powers don’t work now, so he can’t even give in when oxygen- and sleep-deprived. But maybe if he gets dazed and weak enough, he can… oh, he doesn’t know. The truth of the matter is that the only thing he can do, here and now, is wait to pass out and hope that something other than torment waits for him on the other side of the dangerous unconsciousness coming.

#whump #drabble #nadeem #captivity #muzzled #restrained #afraid #mine #can't breathe #pinned #claustrophobia tw

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staggbones · 4 years

Text

The Night Five Recordings

Trigger warnings: Slight gore, angsty gays, stuff like that.

It’s Scott’s last day of working night shift but unfortunately, he didn’t know what was coming for him.........................Let’s begin.

The alarm went off. 10:30 pm. Scott woke up and groaned, sitting up and stretching, moving Michael’s hand off his waist. He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Mike’s temple. That man could sleep through a bomb going off but somehow a kiss from Scott woke him up every time. Michael was groggy when he woke up. He shifted and opened his eyes, glaring. He hated being woken up. “What...oh work.” He mumbled, sitting up. Scott reached over and turned the lights on, sliding out of bed, grabbing his work pants and his shirt. “Yeah, it’s my last night shift, ‘member? I’m being transferred to dayshift.” Scott said, sliding his belt through the pant loops.

Mike squinted. “Oh- Oh yeah! We’ll be able to spend the evenings together....Just be safe, okay babe?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Scott scoffed. “Come on, Mikey. If your dad was going to come after me by now, he would have, don’t you think? It’s been what....four months since ‘the incident’. We have our own house, he doesn’t know where we are. He hasn’t shown up to work, so I don’t think he knows that I still work there...I’m completely safe.” The raven haired male stated with confidence.

Michael sighed nervously, looking at his hands. “Just...call me if something happens. The second something happens. I’ll have my ringer on, so please....” he trailed off, looking at him with puppy eyes. Scott walked over and kissed him gently, holding it there for a minute, letting it linger. “Of course I will, you oaf. You don’t need to worry.” He said. He tied his tie and walked to the bathroom to get ready. He then poked his head in through the doorway. “I’m off, babe. Try to get some sleep, I promise that I won’t be late and I promise I won’t be stuffed into a suit.” Scott teased, pressing his lips to rainbow beaded bracelet on his wrist. It was their way of a long distant kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scott pulled into the Freddy Fazbear’s pizzarea at 11:40. That would give him just enough time to make it to the security room and finish recording his messages to the next employee before the bots were booted up on their night timer. He slid into the swivel chair in the office, looking at the art the kids made for the bots that lined the walls. Had he been looking at the cameras, he’d have seen a pair of purple hands pressing a button on stage. Scott scooted up to the phone and immediately got nervous. He always got nervous leaving messages. The thoughts of what if was bad, etc....he was a pretty nervous and timid person when he wasn’t around Mike. He smiled softly. Michael....that man had been through so much just to be with him. He ran his fingers over the beaded bracelet, before kissing it softly and exhaling, getting the phone set up.

Something made his hair stand on edge. He quickly looked at the cameras. Nobody was on the stage. What? They were supposed to be deactivated right now. He looked into the hallway and pressed the button. Chica was standing there, jerking, twitching. Fuck! He slammed the door button and slid over to Bonnie’s side. Sure enough, the large purple rabbit stood there, jerking and twitching in a broken, unnerving manor. He slammed the door on that as well. He’d be out of power any second now. He should record the message so he could focus on protecting himself.

Scott pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid to the desk, calling Michael. He got the message machine.

‘Heyyoooo Michael here. Leave a message cus I’m not here right now. Probably doing something rad! I’ll call back if you’re not a telemarketer. Haha....anyway, after the beep, you know what to do!’

It almost made him smile, had he not been pulled out of his thoughts by the aggressive banging.

Beep!

He jammed his finger on the record button on the work phone as well. Might as well leave a message for the next employee.

“Hello, hello! Hey! Hey wow, day four...I knew you could do it.” He said, feeling...dirty for saying it. He had no idea if they did it or not.

“Hey, listen....I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow.” That was true to both the next employee and to Michael. His talk was interrupted by the slamming of doors. More aggressive this time.

“It’s-It’s been a bad night here.” More banging. Those doors could only take some more harassment before they’d be swinging up. Damn glitches. “F-for me.”

“Umm...I-I’m kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you...” He thought of all the dumb messages he left Michael in their highschool days. Pain hit him in the heart. He may never get to send messages like that to his love anymore. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, when I did. H-hey, do me a favor.” He was now talking mostly to Michael. “Maybe sometime, eh, you could check inside those suits, in-in the back room?” The thought of his own body mingled into those endoskeletons made the hairs on his arm stand up on end.

“I’m gonna try to hold out...until someone...checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” He let out a quick exhale as he leaned over and grabbed his ‘in case of emergency weapon.’ A bat. It wasn’t going to do much, if anything but it made him feel better. There were the final beatings the door could take. He heard the doors slide open. He refused to look. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

“I-I-I always wondered what was in those empty heads...back there-” What the fuck are you talking about now, Scott? He was just rambling, trying to keep himself from turning. He could feel the breathing on the back of his neck. There...that haunting...haunting music box song. Wildly inappropriate.

“You know...” Chica leaned in a groaned her creaky groan in his ear. “Oh no.” He dove out of his chair, just as Foxy lunged forward. The giant animatronic robot landed on the desk, breaking both the work phone and Scotts phone, effectively ending the recordings.

Scott grabbed his bat and dove between Freddy’s legs, making a b-line down the hallway, running as fast as he could. But so were they.

They caught up to him in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael pulled into the Pizza joint’s parking lot. He’d been listening to his sweet, sweet boyfriend’s words on repeat on the drive. The longest 30 minute drive. Mike grabbed a rock and ran in, chucking it through the window, shattering it. He jumped through and jogged into the part room.

Mike stepped on something hard and round underneath his foot, which almost caused him to slip. He looked down. A red bead. Then an orange and a yellow...a whole rainbow of beads, leading down to the storage room.

Michael felt his heart drop into his stomach as he shakily walked towards the room. He’d already called the police on the way down. Don’t look Michael. You don’t want to see it.

He pushed the door open and inhaled, peering inside, turning his phone’s flashlight on. Freddy, Chica, Bonnie and Foxy stood idle in one corner of the room, staring at the other. A horribly bloodied Bonnie/Foxy mess was on the table, like something had been haphazardly stuffed into it. Then the sound of a groan. A human one. “Scott-” Mike was over there in an instant. Scott’s whole scalp was almost removed completely, bone bits everywhere, his eye laying on the floor beneath them. The green one. Mike heard the paramedic sirens as they approached. “T-take it easy Scott, i’m right here- they’re coming, you hear them? They’re on their way. They’ll be here soon!” Michael said, hot tears rushing down his face.

Scott couldn’t see. Everything was red hot pain. He felt cold at the same time. Was this death? Who’s voice was...oh that smell. That was such a familiar smell. A home smell. A Michael smell. He slid into unconsciousness as the lights turned on.

#scottmike #gnome writes #fanfiction #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #scott #phone guy #gore #angst #scatterpatter and littlefang06 beware....

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ughseoks-main · 5 years

Text

fairgrounds

peter parker x reader

requested by @marvelous-maddi: Can I get one where Peter and the reader go to a fair, and at the beginning they're going as friends, but at one point in the night, they ride the ferris wheel and Peter (or reader) admits their feelings for eachother???

word count: 1.8k

warnings: literally just a shit ton of fluff!

a/n: hehe this one is a cutie that i squeezed out in an hour and half between two different netflix binges. so don’t judge it too hard. lmk what ya think!

- masterlist -

“Really?” you huffed out before letting your head drop backwards, frustration coursing through your veins. You took a minute to pout before looking back up, reading the text over again before shooting an annoyed Ok. in response.

Your boyfriend, Chris, had just cancelled on you again. In all honesty, you weren’t very surprised. The two of you had been dating for 5 months, but lately, it felt like you were drifting apart.

You couldn’t really be mad at him about the situation, because he wasn’t the only one pulling away. Neither of you were really that interested anymore, but you were both too scared to actually break it off.

Tap, tap, tap.

You jumped up at the sound, unable to conceal the smile that appeared on your face when you glanced out the window. It was none other than Peter Parker, your lifelong best friend who always managed to show up at just the right time.

“Everything okay?” he asked after crawling through the now open window, being sure to close it behind him. “You seem a little down.”

“Eh,” you shrugged, “Chris cancelled on me again. It’s okay though, I kinda saw it coming. I just don’t have anyone to go to the fair with anymore.”

“That really sucks,” Peter sat down onto the floor, making a light thump noise, “Hey, if you want, I could go with you to the fair—”

“Really?” you squealed, jumping up from your spot on the bed, “Yes! It’ll be so much fun! We can ride the dropper, and the swings, and then the ferris wheel…”

As you continued to elaborate on all of the fun you’d have, you never once noticed Peter’s gaze. It followed you from the floor as you walked in circles, and his cheeks were tinted a rosy pink. His crush on you was common knowledge to most at this point, but you’d remained blissfully unaware.

“Y-yeah,” he smiled, “I can’t wait!”

— -

“Come on, Pete!” you tugged his hand and dragged him forward as he stumbled behind you.

“I am coming!”

You halted to a stop at the ticket booth before giving the cashier a big smile. “Two wristbands, please!”

She glanced between you and Peter before speaking back through the small silver mic. “That’ll be twenty dollars with the added couples discount.”

“O-oh, we’re not—” Peter began, only to be interrupted by you.

“Great!” you slid a twenty dollar bill across the counter, winking at Peter when the lady slid back two wristbands in return.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked with curiosity as you walked away from the booth. He quickly fastened your bracelet onto your wrist, holding out his own for you to help with once he’d finished.

“It saved us some money, didn’t it?” you shrugged, “Fairs are expensive enough as it is, and we’re broke highschoolers. I’ll take all the discounts I can get.”

As the night continued on, you and Peter hopped from ride to ride, letting out yelps of joy as they spun you around. You even played a few games, winning a large stuffed Spider-Man from Peter.

“It looks just like you!” you giggled, squeezing it tight to your chest. It was soft, and just the perfect size to snuggle with. Peter laughed lightly in return, secretly wishing that you’d hug him like that one day, too.

— -

“Let’s ride the ferris wheel before we leave!” it was a few hours since you’d arrived at the fair when you pointed in the direction of the large ride, the lights reflecting in your eyes. Peter nodded in agreement, and before you knew it, he was above you in the white cart, extending a hand for you to grab.

“Why thank you, good sir,” you winked, taking his hand as he gently pulled you up into the cart.

He bowed down jokingly before taking his seat. “Of course, M’lady.”

You giggled, which made him giggle, which evolved into a laugh, which just made you laugh even harder. It was a laughing fit; one that left your stomach aching even after the giggles died down.

You couldn’t remember the last time Chris had made you laugh like that.

The cart was moving up slowly as the operators allowed more people to board, eventually allowing you to reach the top of the wheel and sit there for a moment. The view was beautiful; you could see all the lights of the fair below you, but beyond that the city in the distance lit up the night sky. There were almost no clouds, and the stars were shining brighter than you’d ever seen.

“Wow,” Peter breathed, gazing out across the fairgrounds, “It’s really pretty up here.”

You were about to agree, but for some reason, your voice caught in your throat. Something about the way his curls swayed in the breeze and the way his brown eyes lit up with adoration rendered you speechless.

“So, how are things with Chris?” the second Peter uttered those words, the spell was broken, and you were brought back into reality.

“Uh…” you paused, unsure of how to answer, “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know. I feel like… our relationship has kinda died out, ya know? We haven’t seen each other in like, two weeks, but it hasn’t really affected me. I think that we’re just holding on because neither of us want to be the one to end things, but there isn’t anything there for us anymore. Plus… I think I’ve been slowly falling for somebody else.”

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you really weren’t that upset over Chris. You felt like you barely knew him anymore. Not only that, but you felt like he might be holding you back from finding somebody else; somebody you really had a future with.

“Maybe you should tell the person how you feel…”

Your head jerked up as you looked into the sparkling eyes of Peter. “M-Maybe I will…”

He gave you a soft smile, but as soon as you grabbed his hand, his eyes blew open in shock.

“Pete?” you whispered, casting your gaze to the worn out gray floor of the cart, “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course—” you were already interrupting him before he could finish his sentence, too nervous to hold it in any longer.

“I really like you. A lot. A lot lot.” It was silent for a moment before he lightly grasped your chin, tilting your head up so you were gazing into his eyes. They were bright and happy, and you were almost certain that you could feel the warmth radiating from them.

“Y/N, I…” his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips a few times before he leaned in, only to be stopped by a finger placed lightly on his lips.

“I’m not single yet, Parker,” you raised an eyebrow at him, “I may like you, but I’m no cheater. This can’t go any further until Chris and I are officially done.”

“Of course, of course,” he nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, the blush on his cheeks standing out against his skin, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I really am an idiot.”

“Only sometimes,” you winked, laughing when he lightly punched your arm, “I’ll talk to Chris as soon as I can. Hopefully he’s free tomorrow.”

— -

“See you around?” the blonde haired boy in front of you asked, tilting his head to the side with a slight smile on his face. Even during a time like this, you had to admire his ability to see the best in every situation.

“Of course, Chris,” you threw him a wave before heading your own way.

As much as the two of you had been expecting this to happen, it still hurt more than you’d thought it would. You weren’t really heartbroken… just a little sad. Even though the relationship had really been dying for a while, it was still the official end of something that had made you happy at one point in time.

You’d been 100% honest with Chris, explaining that what had happened at the fair had really opened your eyes. You made it clear that you hadn’t done anything dishonest with Peter, but you had developed feelings for him near the end of your relationship. Chris was understanding, even explaining to you that he was in a really similar situation with a girl named Liz who lived down his street.

Although you were somewhat upset, you were happy that you could both leave the relationship on amicable terms.

— -

Later that night, you were watching a movie with Peter in your backyard, laying out on a blanket on the grass. His arm was around your shoulders, and even though his touch comforted you, you sat up and scooted away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry filling his eyes when he noticed that you were tearing up.

“I— I still like you a lot, Pete. I just need a little while to adjust before we can really dive into this whole relationship thing,” you sniffled, wiping your nose, “It’s just kinda fast. I need you to hold me as a friend, not a boyfriend, right now.” He nodded and opened his arms, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

— -

“Ooh, let’s ride the ferris wheel!” you’d linked your elbow with Peter’s, and your hand rested on his bicep. It was roughly a year since you’d confessed to him, and things were going almost perfectly.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Throwing your head over your shoulder, you spot Chris, who’s walking up to you with who you assumed was Liz holding his hand.

The four of you exchanged small talk for a few minutes before you parted ways, feeling slightly awkward but mostly happy. You and Chris hadn’t been right for each other, but you both found the people who were right for you, and that’s what mattered.

“So…” Peter nudged your shoulder with his. The two of you had made your way onto the ferris wheel after your conversation had ended, and the cart was once again stopped at the very top. “It’s been about a year since we were here last…”

“And?” you made a ‘get on with it’ gesture with your hands, wondering what in the world he was about to ask you.

“I was wondering…” he dragged out on purpose, your heart beating a little faster with every second, “If we could kiss at the top? Since we didn’t get to last time.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” you laughed, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“One more? So we can have one for each year.”

“You’re such a piece of work,” you kissed him again before laying your head on his shoulder, “But, you’re my piece of work.”

As silly as Peter was sometimes, you couldn’t deny it; he was the one you were meant to spend your life with.

taglist;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @ @smexylemony @watermelonfruitsalad @thewildheroine @s0cial-retard @awkwardfangirl2014 @nobelwarriorheroes @holland-haven @moonpadillaa @lesbianismybitchname @kingccbsblog @someonekeepstakingmyusernnames @parrkerspeters

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature @lovely-parker @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder @lovinnholland @peterparker-glee-other

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #lainey writes #fanfiction #reader insert #xreader

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jaxl-road · 4 years

Text

Scar Tissue chapter 1

Slash falls hard and fast for Guns N' Roses' new bassist. But Duff has some baggage in the way that they'll have to get past first...

Pairings: Slash/Duff, side Axl/Izzy

Warnings: Implied/discussed past abuse (non-explicit)

AN: Decided to post this properly here! You can also read on AO3

~~~~~~

Slash knew he was fucked the moment Duff walked in for his audition.

It started when Steven set the audition up earlier in the week. The band had been looking for a bassist for awhile, various people filtering in and out of the spot but never fitting quite right. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the rest of the band, their drummer had been eyeing a particular bassist. Steven had seen the guy filling in for various bands on the strip, but he always ran off as soon as the show was over. One night, he finally managed to catch the bassist before he could disappear, quickly explaining the situation and convincing him to stop by and jam with Guns N Roses.

Axl had been twitchy ever since the drummer told them about the meeting, “We don’t even know this fucker. You should have talked to us first,” he ground out, arms crossed and pacing tensely.

Luckily, Izzy kept him from completely losing his shit. He wrapped his arms around the singer’s waist to still him, “Hey, worst-case scenario we don’t invite him back. We’re not committed to anything. And we do need a bassist. Steven saw an opportunity and took it.”

Slash and Steven looked at each other and exchanged fake gagging noises. Since they were both currently single, they often bonded over teasing Axl and Izzy about their relationship, the couple usually just rolling their eyes or flipping them off. Before Axl could start huffing at them, there was a knock at the door. They were meeting in a small studio they had snagged so they could practice somewhere other than the Hell House where the four musicians were currently living together.

“Sweet, he’s here!” Steven jogged over and opened the door, quickly standing aside to let the bassist walk in.

And yeah. Slash was fucked.

“Guys, this is Duff!”

Slash gave himself points for not being too blatantly obvious about it, but come on, no one should have legs that long and lean. The bassist was over six feet tall, seemingly towering over the rest of the band. He was skinny, too, his ripped up black clothing hanging off his frame, tattered jeans hanging low on his hips even with a studded belt holding them up. Shifting his hold on the bass case he carried, he flicked his long bleached hair out of his face, revealing a darker strand underneath the blonde waves.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” he raised a hand in greeting, bracelets and rings and black painted nails giving a quick wave while Slash struggled not to stare at the way dark eyeliner emphasized his bright hazel eyes.

Holy shit, he was fucking smitten.

Axl eyed Duff suspiciously as he placed his bass as well as a heavy looking backpack down to the side, “You play punk bands?” he asked, looking the bassist up and down, taking in his heavy punk aesthetic.

Duff shrugged, “I play anything, really. I started out doing mostly punk bands, but lately I’ve been hanging with more rock and metal dudes.”

The singer hummed noncommittally, “Well, let’s see what you can do then.” They spent some time talking Duff through a few of their songs before getting themselves set up to play. Slash had his fingers crossed that the music would help get his mind out of the gutter. But of course, he had no such luck.

Duff was good. It was more than just his playing, although the ease with which he picked up the songs was more than a little impressive, and he had no problem working with Steven to keep the beats. Duff’s presence just fit with the rest of them in a way no other bass player had managed. He matched their energy, and could move and dance to the songs without missing a beat, unlike Slash who managed to fumble twice after seeing Duff roll his hips against his bass. He had to duck his head to avoid Izzy’s knowing look.

By the time they made it through the selected songs, it was obvious Duff was different from the other bass players they’d worked with. Even Axl had loosened up enough to grin and compliment him on his playing.

“It shouldn’t take long to get you caught up on what we’ve got so far,” Izzy commented, lighting up a cigarette, “But I think it’s a good match. If you’re cool with it we can make it official,” he shrugged.

Grinning, Duff nodded, “Hell yeah, I’m down. Hopping between bands was getting kind of old.”

“Aw, I can’t believe we've convinced you to settle down! We’ve made an honest bassist out of you!” Steven laughed, throwing his arm around Duff’s shoulder, the bassist flinching just slightly, “Everyone here owes me a drink for bringing us all together,” the drummer declared.

The group chatted as they exited the building, Duff laughing and joking with them as if he’d always been there, while Slash very consciously didn’t stare at his ass.

As they loaded up Izzy’s piece-of-shit car, Steven turned to the bassist, "Where do you live, anyway? We can give you a ride if you want."

Slash both loved and hated the idea of having to press close to the other man in the cramped vehicle, but Duff shook his head, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one casually, "Nah, it’s fine. I'm couch surfing right now, and I’m not entirely sure what couch I’m on tonight,” he exhaled a stream of smoke with a wry grin.

There was a pause, as the rest of the band turned to look at him. Steven and Slash looked concerned, Izzy kept his face blank and neutral, and Axl had a look on his face that those close to him recognized to mean that his thoughts were being torn in two different directions.

Noticing the silence, Duff rolled his eyes, readjusting his backpack and bass on his shoulders as he took a few steps back, “Oh relax, it’s no big deal. Life’s just a bitch sometimes,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and began making long strides down the street.

Spinning to look at the others, Steven held his hands out in dismay, “Guys!” he hissed as he gestured wildly to the retreating figure.

Axl narrowed his eyes, his body tensing, but before he could turn the conversation into a fight, Izzy sighed, placing a gentle hand on the red-head’s arm. “Just… give us a second,” he nodded at Slash and Steven before guiding Axl a few feet away so they could talk in private.

“I mean, to be fair, our place is already pretty packed,” Slash pointed out.

“Oh please, we’re so used to living in squalor we probably wouldn’t even notice another person added to the mix,” Steven glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, grinning slowly, “Well. You would notice him,” he said teasingly.

Slash gaped, “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?” he hoped if he sounded offended enough he could end this before it started.

But of course. No luck. Figured.

Steven laughed, “Oh please, you were practically drooling over him! I’ve only heard you make mistakes like you did today when you were piss drunk.”

“Maybe I’m drunk now,” Slash argued.

“Yes, you’re obviously wasted,” the drummer rolled his eyes, “Actually, maybe this was a bad idea. Will you be able to keep your hands to yourself if he’s around? We can’t have you scaring off our bassist the second we get him just cause you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“Oh shut up,” Slash mumbled, blushing. There was no point trying to deny it at this point, “I can be a perfect gentleman, thank you very much.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

At that moment, Izzy and Axl walked back over. “Alright, let’s go,” Izzy stated casually as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“What about Duff?” Steven questioned, a look of betrayal on his face.

But Izzy only raised an eyebrow at him, “He’s coming too. We just have to catch him first.”

Snapping their heads up, Slash and Steven realized that Duff was, in fact, gone. They hadn’t even noticed him disappear. Scrambling, the two quickly hopped into the backseat of the car, slamming the doors just as Izzy managed to get the pile of junk to finally start. Axl sat in the front seat with his arms crossed, and while he didn’t look happy, he didn’t look angry either, so still a win.

It only took three blocks before Izzy suddenly took a sharp, last second left turn, the occupants of the car tumbling to the side dramatically. They barely had time to right themselves before Izzy was slamming on the breaks, screeching to a halt and throwing his passengers forward in their seats.

Meanwhile, Duff nearly jumped out of his skin when a familiar car skidded to a stop beside him. He skittered back a few steps, eyes wide as he clutched his chest as if he could physically still his rapidly beating heart.

Rolling down the window, Izzy leaned out, “Hey. Hop in, you can crash with us.”

For a moment, the bassist just stared, blinking slowly, “...What?”

Steven rolled down his own window, leaning practically his entire upper body out, “Yeah! It’s not the most glamorous place, but we can squeeze in one more.”

“N-no, guys, seriously, I appreciate it, but it’s fine, really,” Duff another step back, trying to wave them off.

Slash shoved Steven over, leaning out the window beside him, “Dude, it’s totally cool. Besides, this way we have the whole band in one place.”

Duff shifted nervously, glancing away from them and looking thoroughly unconvinced. Finally, Axl sighed. Opening his door, he stood to look at Duff over the top of the car, “Look, you said you needed a couch to crash on, and we’re offering you ours. You don’t have to stay forever if you don’t want. I mean, we are pretty big assholes,” the singer smirked.

Despite his hesitation, Duff couldn’t help but laugh, “Fine, fine,” he finally gave in. “One night,” he insisted.

“Uh huh, sure,” Steven grinned as he and Slash shifted to make room for Duff and his things. The bassist’s knees were practically touching his chest as he folded himself into the backseat, his side pressed up against Slash, so close he could smell the smoke on his breath and see the little red marks where his lips were bitten raw. He shook his head quickly, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hide the blush he was sure was growing. Steven snickered knowingly, and Slash elbowed him roughly in the side as the car started moving again.

Their house wasn’t in the best part of town, to put it lightly, but that was part of the reason it was so cheap. It was small and dilapidated, the insulation was terrible, the paint was peeling, and the whole thing was falling apart inside and out. But it was home for the four boys, and if they had their way, hopefully it could be a home for Duff as well.

Walking in, they stepped over empty bottles and strewn clothing. Izzy grunted as he gestured vaguely at the house, and Steven laughed as he turned to Duff, “I think Izzy hit his quota of words for the day, but I’m pretty sure he’s saying make yourself at home,” he grinned as Izzy flipped him off.

Snaking an arm around the guitarist’s waist, Axl spoke next, “We’ve got three bedrooms. Izzy and I share a room, so Steven and Slash can flip a coin or something to figure out where you’ll be bunking,” he gestured at the two musicians as he and Izzy made their way to their own room.

Duff’s eyes widened a bit, turning to face his two potential roommates and throwing his hands up nervously, “No, no, it’s just for a night, remember? You guys don’t have to- I mean, I can just crash on the couch or something. Or, or I could…” His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for some corner where he could curl up out of the way.

It was weirdly endearing, and Slash smiled as he cut him off, “Hey, it’s no problem dude. And actually, my room is bigger than Steven’s anyway, so you can just share with me.”

“Are you sure? I-”

“Dude, seriously, it’s fine,” Slash insisted. Steven raised an eyebrow at him, but Slash cut him off before he could say anything potentially incriminating, “Really.”

The bassist didn’t look fully convinced, but he didn’t argue anymore. Slash pointed him in the direction of his room so he could finally put his stuff down, and as he walked away, Steven pulled him aside to whisper at him, “Look, I know I was joking earlier, but seriously, please don’t scare Duff off. He’s a cool dude and a good bass player.”

Slash actually felt offended this time, shoving at Steven’s chest, “I am not going to scare him off!”

“I’m just saying!” the drummer raised his hands defensively, “I love you dude, but you’re one of the horniest guys on the planet.”

“Jesus fuck, I’m capable of being chill about it, asshole,” he growled, “I don’t climb on every person I think is fucking hot or whatever you think I’m gonna do.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Steven had the good grace to look sincere in his apology, “I shouldn’t have worried.” Slash huffed, and Steven grinned teasingly, “Besides, we all know you’re too shy to actually make a move.”

“Hey!” Slash shoved him again, but he couldn’t help but chuckle, “How many times are you gonna insult me today?”

“Probably a couple more times,” Steven laughed.

At that moment, Duff walked out holding two bottles of vodka, one full and one half empty, “I figure since you’re letting me crash here the least I could do is share.”

“Hell yes!” Steven smiled widely, “Oh, you’re gonna fit right in.”

Duff laughed, and when he held out one of the bottles his shirt slipped down one shoulder, emphasizing his smooth, pale collar bones. Slash swallowed thickly. He meant what he told Steven; he could handle this.

He just might have to take a few more cold showers than usual.

#my writing #sluff #Guns n Roses #guns n roses fanfiction #gnr #slash #duff mckagan #axl rose #izzy stradlin #steven adler

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