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feliix · 3 years

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Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls, it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot.

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible.

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air.

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms.

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time.

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.”

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue.

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t have to be so miserable about it anymore.

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell.

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop.

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Invisible String (14/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.4k words

Warning : angst, sad reader, angry reader, dumbass Bucky, Steve being likable for once, smartass Sam, reader finally having some friends, mention of assault, confrontation, drinking, fluff, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca

Unlike you, Bucky remembered everything. He could never forget that you were hurt because of him — tied to a chair for hours while he couldn't save you — crying on the bathroom floor as he held you. The only thing common in all of those instances was him. You had to go through shit because of him, and yet, you still didn't blame him. You wrapped your arm around him as if he wasn't the cause of your pain. It was clear that his past and the baggage that he came with didn’t bother you. In fact, you understood and accepted his trauma and still loved him. You didn't love him despite his baggage. No, you loved him with every bad thing he offered.

Bucky was sure you were delusional. No sane woman would want to be with the man who was responsible for her captivity, yet you snuggled closer towards him the moment this thought occurred in his head. And Bucky loved you more because of that, and he thought he wasn't physically capable of loving you more than he already did. Bucky knew you reciprocated those feelings, it was very obvious that both of you were a goner for the other. Nevertheless, those emotions were not voiced out loud in your relationship yet. And Bucky wanted it to stay that way.

Bucky decided to sneak out of your bed and house before you could wake up. He was aware it was cowardly of him to just leave without giving you an explanation. But if he stayed to explain, you would have asked him to stay, and he didn't have it in himself to tell you no. You were the ray of sunshine in his stormy life and he could never say no to you. You could ask him to get you the sun, and he would get it for you, even after knowing that it would kill him and the humankind in the process. He would still do it.

But what he couldn’t do was refuse you, so he would have to leave you instead.

***

You woke up a bit disoriented, unaware of the surroundings you were in. It took you a minute to process that you were in your own house and not held captive. Once you came back to your senses instinctively you called for Bucky. He held you while you slept the previous night, so he had to be out in the kitchen. When no response came back, you went out to check for him, only to be met with an empty house.

When you tried to contact him, Bucky was distant. He didn’t respond to your texts and your mind was telling you that something was wrong, but you shoved those thoughts sideways, hoping that maybe he was busy with work. But you both went through something traumatic, you needed him to be with you. If he were busy, he could have at least texted you.

Well, if he was going to ignore you, then you wouldn't be one of those people whose life revolved around their partner. You had a book to write and ambitions that didn’t involve him.

Two hours later, when there was no word from him, you stared at the blank screen on your computer. You weren’t unfamiliar with writer's block, but it had been months and you haven't written a single line since the incident in the club involving Rumlow. And now that you were alone with your thoughts, you started doubting everything. Should you have stayed in that corporate 9 to 5 job? You'd have a stable life and a fixed salary. Maybe you could have even got a promotion. Should you have filed a complaint against Rumlow? Bucky wanted you to, he even assured you the cops would be on your side, but you just weren't ready. You realized that by choosing to remain silent, you were sending a predator out in the world. He could do that to other people and you could have stopped it.

A knock on the front door interrupted your train of thoughts and you were grateful for the person on the other side. You assumed it was Bucky, he didn’t need to buzz in because he literally owned the building. Well, it could also be any one of his friends. Sam and Steve also didn't need permission . And the other day when Peter came by to give you your phone (you left it in the club), he didn't buzz in either.

Seeing Wanda, Peter and Pietro on the door was a good change and God, you needed a change or else you'd go mad with self-loathing.

“We brought pizza,” Wanda exclaimed, lifting the bag in her hand to show you.

You didn't say anything, just smiled at them thankfully. You were really delighted they were here. Not only that, but you didn't have many friends here, and you considered your work friends, your only friends. It was nice to see that they saw you as a friend too and not just someone they work with.

“And beers,” Pietro chimed in, raising the carton in his hand.

You looked at Peter before teasing, “Is he even legal, guys?”

Seeing you joke around with them made Wanda happy. Between all the testosterone, she truly needed a female friend, and she was relieved to see you treating them as friends rather than colleagues. And she understood the trauma that must haunt you since your kidnapping. She was an empath and when you didn’t show up at work, she grew worried.

Half an hour later, most of you were on your second beer. Pietro was on his fourth. That man was fast at everything he did. A movie was playing in the background that none of you paid attention to while everyone was settled on your couch. It wasn't a very spacious couch, you were all squashed into it, but it was too comfortable to leave. You were sitting in between Peter and Wanda, while Pietro was situated beside his sister.

You forgot how nice it felt to have friends and bitch about people to them.

“And just like that he was gone. I woke up and he wasn't there,” you told them, “Hasn't been taking my calls either.”

Pietro took a sip of his drink before saying, “What an ass!”

Wanda raised her bottle, nudging all of you to join her, and said, “Fuck men!”

“Amen!” you agreed, Peter and Pietro nodded too.

“You should focus on your book,” Pietro advised, “Bucky is gonna regret if he loses someone like you, babe.”

The book. Your book. You couldn't tell them why you weren't focused on the book. It was still a lot to process, and you were not ready, so you nodded before chanting, “Fuck Bucky!”

***

“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned as he and his husband entered the office.

“Last I checked, I own this place.”

Sam huffed, “I meant why are you here instead of her place, smartass?”

Bucky looked around to avoid the questioning gaze of both Sam and Steve. He hadn’t talked to Steve since the argument they had over you. Of course, they did discuss business as usual, but nothing related to their personal life.

“She doesn't need me,'' Bucky murmured and looked at Steve. “You must be pleased to know that it's over.”

Bewilderment was clear on the faces of both the men because Bucky exhaled loudly before continuing, “I almost got her killed. It would be wise and safe for her to not be with me.”

Steve finally spoke, “Did she say that?”

When his best friend shook his head ‘no’, Steve sighed in exasperation. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, that's what you wanted, didn't you?” Bucky retorted, “For me to focus on work and not on her.”

“I was clearly wrong, pal,” Steve raised his hand in exasperation as if it was obvious, “And I’m sorry for that.”

“Well, it's over now.”

***

“Before I met Nat. I dated a girl who pretended to be gay,” Wanda scrunched her nose, remembering the awful memory.

“Oh yeah, weird Sallie,” Pietro smiled teasingly, “Did you guys know that when Wanda brought her home, she hit on our dad?”

“No!” Both you and Peter cried out, stupefied at his words.

“Yeah,” Wanda outlined, “And on Pietro too.”

“I mean, Mr. Barnes is not like this,” Peter brought the conversation back to Bucky and you sucked in a heavy breath. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing all of this.”

“Seriously?” you were pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to talk about Bucky. You looked at Wanda and Pietro for support, but they shrugged their shoulders in a manner that said, ‘He's not wrong, though.’

You wanted to go to bed and sleep. But you knew they were right. Bucky would never hurt you intentionally, you knew that. “Do you guys know where he is now?”

***

Since trying to talk some sense into Bucky wasn't working, Sam and Steve retaliated back to talk about business.

“Clint is officially out of here,” Steve reported, “Torturing him would just create more ruckus. Rumlow is behind us because he wants his weapons in the government, and Clint would just be a casualty in all this shit. He has three kids.”

Sam huffed, “We told Laura. Her wrath would be worse for Clint than our fists.”

Bucky didn't say anything and just nodded. Steve could feel something was on Bucky's mind, wrapping his arms to his chest, he raised a brow towards his best friend.

“I’m just tired of all of this,” Bucky said sadly, “Is this what we left Rumlow for, pal? You have a kid at home, Wanda has a wife, I have ma and Bec and I haven't met them in years, in fear of someone following me. And now — Well, now I’ve lost the girl too."

Steve and Sam looked at their friend with sympathy. They knew the toll their work took on all of them. Hell, they had a four-year-old daughter at home, and could barely sleep at night, always terrified of losing their kid because of their job.

Sam was about to ask Bucky to suggest an alternative that would help all of them could to make it out of there and just work on the club and not some shady business. Suddenly, the office door flung open and on purpose, everyone’s hand reached for the gun in their waistband. But in walked you with a beer bottle in your hand and a pizza slice in another.

“JAMES BUCKY BARNES!” You exclaimed, your steps wavering a little as you walked towards him. Oh, and you looked royally pissed.

Instantly, Bucky was on his feet and making his way towards you, to hold you — to be near you. And before you could say anything, he was engulfing his arms around your waist, his head settled at the crane of your neck and you frowned. Okay, You did not expect that. You thought he would ignore you, and you would give him a piece of your mind before leaving.

Sober you would have asked him to have a mature conversation like adults, but tipsy you wanted to flip him off and leave. Your arms hung around your sides awkwardly, trying to understand the situation before finally pushing him away.

“You left me,” you spoke so softly that if Bucky wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard it. “I needed you and you left me alone.”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words. He didn't consider how his rash decision would affect you. You were kidnapped by the person who assaulted you. Fuck, he cursed himself. He was supposed to be protecting you, not hurting you. You sounded so hurt that Bucky wanted to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness. He was so focused on your physical injuries, he did not even realize he was hurting you emotionally.

Steve cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable to present. He interrupted and took his husband’s hand in his, “We’re going to go.”

Before they could leave, you shifted your attention towards Steve and pointed a finger at him. “Why do you hate me?”

Steve stammered, he didn't expect you to put him in a spot like this, but you had a tad more than necessary liquid courage in your system.

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and you moved your gaze back towards him. Steve took the opportunity and left the room with Sam.

You were on the verge of tears by now — both of you were — Bucky wasn't a man who could voice his feelings, but with you, all of his armor came shattering down. With you — he would tell you his vulnerabilities and fears just so he could let you in. You meant so much to him that the fear of losing you blinded his sense of understanding. He realized that he acted immaturely and by doing so, he almost lost you.

“You hurt me,” Your voice wavered, the traitorous tears made their way down your eyes, and Bucky couldn't see you like that. Instinctively, he stretched his hands to wrap around you, but stopped, “Can I hold you?”

You sniffled and nodded, and Bucky engulfed you flush against his chest. After a while, you snaked your hands around his shoulder too, and a sob broke down from your throat.

He didn't remember how long he held you like this, but after a while, he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He stood before you and then slid one hand up to your cheek. Likewise, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. And then you slowly straddled his waist as you both settled down on the soft sofa. Bucky’s hands fell naturally to your hips to pull you closer.

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, once your tears suspended. You enveloped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his.

Bucky didn’t know whether you meant it or not. You were pretty drunk. He hoped you did.

“I love you, doll,” he confessed as he kissed the crown of your head. He noticed that you were on the brink of sleep, your breathing even, and you looked so peaceful in his arms.

He felt at ease — calm even with you in his arms and in that moment he decided he was never letting you go no matter what.

TAGS : @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp

Taglist for future stuff.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions once said :"If you can imagine your Batman comforting a shared child, then congratulations, you're righting Batman. If not, you're just writing the Punisher in a funny hat". This got me wondering: could the Shadow comfort a scared child?

Could he? You forget who was there to lift young Bruce to his feet at his first brush with death (sadly far from his last).

But it's an interesting question to pose still, because children were straight up not in the pulps, not in any I've read, and I can't recall any episodes of the radio show that feature them much (there's gotta be at least a few, because they had everything in that show). The most interaction I think The Shadow's ever had with children (from comics that I can discuss here, because Marshall Rogers' "Harold Goes to Washington" is way, way too much for me to go into right now, and the less I talk about some other DC comics, the better) is in the Street & Smith comics.

There's Jerry from the Devil Kyoti arc, a kid who was traumatized by an encounter with the villain who Sayre's looking after and who ends up having some kind of hidden power that allows him to see The Shadow and defeat the villain. There was a blonde Jerry who showed up later in the Monstradamus arc, but he isn't a kid so much as he's diet Jimmy Olsen or a replacement for Harry, but he had weird eyesight-based powers and a familiarity with The Shadow, so I assume it's the same character.

There was also Donald Jordan - Shadow Jr, and okay, I may have to talk more about this weird little failed experiment some other time, but the basic gist of it is that The Shadow had a friend in Tibet named Harry Jordan (and someday I'm also gonna write about the weird prevalence and significance of the name "Harry" in The Shadow's mythos in and out of universe) who was murdered, leaving his son orphaned and with nowhere to go. And, I'll admit that I have a real weakness for The Shadow calling people "son", which he does a lot in this story.

And as you can expect, it then turns out that the kid's also learned how to cloud minds and has basically the same powers The Shadow has in these comics, and they solve the mystery of his dad's murder together, and yeah, you can absolutely tell that they are setting up this kid to be The Shadow's Robin. Although, interestingly, they don't have The Shadow actually recruit the kid, instead it's Jordan who asks The Shadow if he can go with him and join his mission, and Cranston even states he's going to have to "earn" his way

"Must I stay here, sir? It will always remind me of dad - I'd like to devote my life to your fight against evil and evil doers!

Now, "Shadow Jr's" career was incredibly short-lived, it only lasted for about two other issues, and I have no idea what happened in his final appearence called "Snake Eyes" in Shadow Comics #77, I cannot find that issue anywhere and I really want to. But the one other solo story of his I've read was...well, I think it kinda illustrates why the idea of The Shadow having a Robin was doomed from the start.

...Yeah. Even The Shadow at his most sanitized and family friendly is still The Shadow, and there's no room for children in his network, obviously he shouldn't and wouldn't have children be in those positions or make decisions expected from grown-ups who have already had encounters with death and danger, why would anyone do that-

The only instance I can think of The Shadow interacting with a child in the pulps was during The Prince of Evil, when he has to rescue a young boy from Stark's thugs.

Cranston, dazed, tried to stagger to his feet. Before he could do so, the thug had picked up the limp figure of the boy and was darting out into the street. There was a scream of horror from pedestrians.

A heavy truck was racing at top speed along the avenue. Straight into the path of the truck, the thug threw the senseless boy!

The driver of the truck jammed on the brakes. But it was too late to halt the heavy vehicle. The broad-tired wheels rolled toward the limp head of the lad on the pavement.

An instant before it could crush out his life, Lamont Cranston dived headlong into the path of destruction. His shoulder struck the boy, rolling him toward the curb. A quick wriggle, and Cranston swerved aside from the grinding death that loomed over him.

He picked up the boy. One glance and he knew there was no time to lose. The attempted killer had leaped into a waiting sedan and had already made his escape.

The boy was all Cranston could see or think about. Brass knuckles had fractured his skull. He had suffered a concussion of the brain. A glance at his bluish lips and the fixed glaze of his staring eyes told Cranston that unless the boy was operated on immediately, he would die.

A leap, Cranston was in his car. He laid the boy gently on the seat beside him, then headed the car toward the nearest hospital. Traffic lights were ignored.

The boy was taken to an emergency operating room and a skilled surgeon went to work. When it was over, Cranston asked only one question: "Will the child live?"

"Hard to say. We'll do our best."

"Spare no expense. Put him in a private room. Engage day and night nurses."

Cranston's face was pale. He knew that he himself was indirectly responsible for the boy's attack. A supercriminal had made a prompt answer to Cranston's message over Jackson's telephone. That telephone must have been tapped. The attempt to kill the boy was a vicious warning for Lamont Cranston to mind his own business about the Harmon family. It was a follow-up of the attack on Jackson's dog.

Cranston felt a surge of hot anger. He kept it under control while he answered routine police questions. He told all he knew - which was nothing.

He had only one angry thought. He intended to drive straight to the office of David Chester. He'd get the truth out of the sleek Chester, if he had to batter him with vengeful fists!

Cranston was actually halfway to Chester's office before common sense returned to him. He realized he had lost his sense of balance. He was behaving exactly as the crooks wanted. He was playing their game, not his!

He parked, and the hot rage drained slowly from him. He stopped thinking about the limp figure of a young lad on a white operating table.

This is definitely because Tinsley writes the character differently than Gibson, but I actually cannot think of another occasion where we got to read about The Shadow actively wanting to hit someone with his fists. It's very, very rare to read about The Shadow actually getting mad in the first place in such an undignified way. And I think with this passage, you'll start to notice a pattern.

The problem isn't that The Shadow cannot interact with kids or that he can't comfort them, he does it to his agents and adults he wants to help just fine, he knows how to address people in their language, or any language. The problem is, The Shadow is constantly surrounded by danger everywhere he goes, because he is The Shadow. He can be any number of things at any number of occasions, but usually, when The Shadow shows up, it's usually because people are going to die, and people are going to kill, and it's his job to address that and work the scales.

Children should not be anywhere near this, and if The Shadow's interacting with a child, it usually means that some grave danger or tragedy fell upon them, and he's here to either prevent greater tragedy or address the fall-out, and he'd be the first to agree that neither of these options should be happening at all. It doesn't mean he's not gonna do what's right and give life and limb to protect them, but, it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to look after them in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to protect us.

But then again, as I mentioned when I talked about my own reasons for liking The Shadow so much, there are many kids who would like nothing more than to have the Boogeyman by their side to protect them. There's comfort in knowing that the scariest man in the room is unconditionally there to protect you, and that is the comfort that The Shadow gives best. Not as Cranston, not under a friendly face, but as what he is.

Due to a lack of scenes from the pulps or satisfying scenes from elsewhere, I will instead be pulling one from a fan story written by Kimberly-Murphy Smith, editor and writer of The Hot Cornerm where The Shadow rescues a child who was kidnapped for blackmail. I couldn't care less that it's fanfic, and if you do, come back in 20 or so years after The Shadow's been made public domain and it's gonna be just as official as anything licensed (on my “to write about” list: how fickle the separation between “official” and “fanfic” is, and the many times it plainly didn’t exist). There’s aspects of her writing I don’t care for, but I really like this scene and I do think The Shadow’s more gentle interactions with people are necessary to getting the character.

Annabelle.

She stopped crying for a minute. "Who's there?" she said, her voice choked.

A friend. Your mommy and daddy sent me to pick you up.

"Mommy? Mommy's here?"

Sh-h-h. Annabelle felt a gloved hand gently stroking her hair. She's waiting for you at home. So, we need to hurry up and leave.

"'kay." She looked around. "Where are you?"

It's kind of hard to see me. It's dark in here, plus you've been crying so much your eyes probably hurt.

"Yeah."

Don't be afraid. I'm here to help.

"'kay."

The implicit trust of children was simply amazing at times. Adults trembled in fear of The Shadow's wrath, but children somehow seemed to understand that he was there to help them, even if they couldn't see him.

Sit up, Annabelle. I'm going to pick you up. Be very quiet.

One hand took each of her arms and guided them around a neck she could not see. "Why are you wearin' a blanket?" she asked as the fabric of his cloak brushed against her shoulders.

Sometimes I get cold at night.

"Even in the summer?"

Even in the summer. He gently stroked her cheek and wiped away her tears. Now, you need to be very quiet so those bad men in the next room don't hear us. I'll bet you're tired.

She nodded.

He rocked her on his arms, projecting a very gentle hypnotic relaxation into her with his powers as he did. You probably didn't get your nap, either. Poor thing. Lean on my shoulder and go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll be back with Mommy and Daddy.

She yawned, then snuggled against his shoulder and went to sleep.

The Shadow sighed with relief. Now to get past the men out front. He gently pulled the pistol out of its holster under his left arm and slipped it into the belted waist of his overcoat within easy reach, then secured his grip on Annabelle and draped his cloak over her.

She clutched the edge of his cloak in her hand like a security blanket and snuggled against his shoulder again.

(Art by Jill Thompson)

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #fanfic #I think about the -Sometimes I get cold at night- response a lot #and how superhero capes can easily be likened to oversized blankets #and The Shadow is one of the main reasons why capes became so popular among American heroes #seriously you can see how practically overnight so many heroes at the time imitating The Shadow acquired capes #and what is a hero if not a childhood fantasy manifest #they are all just wearing blankets to battle #I think my posts are turning into too much of rollercoasters

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marvelslut16 · 3 years

Text

Idiots in love

Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way.

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!

My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!

“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years.

You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.

You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.

“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon.

“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”

The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder.

“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you.

“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”

“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”

You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.

“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”

“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”

Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did.

“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.

“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast.

“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you.

Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt.

“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”

“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room.

You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like.

“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice.

“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking.

“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”

“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”

“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”

Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.

“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs.

Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs.

After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two.

“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases.

“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly.

“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen.

“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”

“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”

“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.

The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus.

Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw.

“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur.

There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her.

“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you.

“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes.

“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.

“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black.

The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.

“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair.

“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection.

“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky.

“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.

“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.

“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night.

“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”

“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”

“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”

“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”

Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed.

A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams.

“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress.

“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”

“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”

“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room.

“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill.

Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it.

The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.

A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips.

“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”

“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”

“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name.

“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”

With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.

Part 2

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley x mc #william weasley #william bill weasley #harry potter fanfiction #bill weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter imagine #bill weasley one shot #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley fanfiction

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 12: Dirty Dreams

…in which Harry and Ezi kiss again…and again…and again… (THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT)

Word count: 4.6k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

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Harry didn’t understand dreams. How did dreams even work? Because sometimes he would see someone he hadn’t seen in years in his dreams, even though he had completely forgotten about the person’s existence up to that point. Then there were these super violent and bloody dreams that woke him in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Then, there were some other more inappropriate dreams that made him so disappointed when the alarm rang.

Listen, Harry wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t think about sex 24/7; well, not usually. But lately, he’d been having dirty dreams more often than he would enjoy. He would wake up with his dick rock hard and end up late for work because he had to stroke one out in the shower. And he blamed it on…

“Ezi! Where are your pants? And why are you wearing my shirt?”

Ezi stopped in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice cream in one hand, the other holding a spoon in her mouth. “This is my new ‘at home’ look,” she said, while leaning against the door in nothing but his button-up shirt that fell just past her bum. As if the sight wasn’t torturing enough, she had to be licking ice cream from the fucking spoon. It was eight in the fucking morning! And Harry would not go back to the bathroom to wank again.

“But where are your shirts? Why don’t you wear them?” he asked and slipped past her into the kitchen. He would make himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t have to watch her being effortlessly sexy in the kitchen doorway.

“They said on the internet that you should borrow your boyfriend’s shirt, and you’re my fake boyfriend.”

“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled.

She gave him a shy smile and left without saying another word. That was the longest conversation they’d had since that night she went out on a date with Dawson. Ezi was always a little bit weird. Okay, well, very weird. But her weirdness had been different lately, in a bad way. She was still doing weird things, but keeping a distance from him.

Harry knew he couldn’t really complain, since he’d specifically told her to her face that he preferred it when it was just him and the cat. Having his own space had been nice for a day or two, then he’d started missing how annoying she’d been. And of course, he blamed this all on Dawson.

Harry had been second to Dawson his whole life. Ever since he’d been a kid and found out that he’d had a cousin, Dawson had been nothing but a burden for Harry. Harry was the only child, but to his parents, Dawson had been their favourite son. His father used to love sports, but Harry had never been a fan of those. Dawson, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school’s football team and was excellent at marathons as well. So if Harry’s father was still alive, Dawson would be the one making him proud by taking over the family business Harry didn’t want.

Now, just as Harry had finally gained his own spotlight as a singer, becoming great at something Dawson wasn’t good at, Dawson swept in and stole Ezi.

Harry had spent a lot of time wondering why it had mattered so much to him that Ezi had gone on one date with his cousin. He didn’t even like her like that, and the house was always peaceful without her, which he enjoyed very much. But why did the idea of her becoming something with Dawson bother him so much? He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of days. Not to mention that Ezi had started keeping distance from him. Well, he’d done it first because of the kiss, but it was weird when she did it because she had always been so fucking clingy. And he’d hated that. Until now!

Ding dong!

“What do you want?” Harry asked in the least annoyed tone he could pull off, while fighting the urge to slam the door in Dawson’s good-looking face.

“Is Ezi home?” Dawson asked.

“Ezi? You mean Ezili? Because I’m the only one who calls her Ezi.”

“Y-Yeah, Ezili,” Dawson said with an awkward smile. This guy was a tool. What did Ezi see in him?

“No, she’s at work,” Harry said, and quickly added, “but don’t think about going there. They’re having a book club meeting; she’d be mad if you showed up and distracted her.”

That was a lie. Harry didn’t even know if people actually hosted book club meetings at random book shops, but did it matter? If he was going to be petty, he must go all the way.

“What do you wanna meet her for?” he asked before Dawson could leave. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with Dawson about Ezi, but it was the only way to learn more about their date. “Did you do something that you wanna apologise for?”

“No. Of course not,” Dawson chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “She bought some books and forgot them in my car.”

“I could give them to her when she gets back from work,” Harry said.

Dawson looked hesitant. “Well, she told me not to give them to you.”

“Oh.” Harry kept a straight face, but he was very offended that she’d made that request. Did she really hate him so much for what he’d said that night?

“So,” he ventured, averting his eyes. “Guess the date went well?”

“I suppose,” Dawson said.

Harry had hoped for a different response. This one didn’t really hurt him but it didn’t make him happy, either. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “So are you looking forward to the second date?”

“I don’t think there’s gonna be one,” Dawson said, to Harry’s surprise. “I don’t think she likes me like that?”

Okay, this was the response Harry had been waiting for. He tried to suppress a grin as he patted his cousin’s shoulder sympathetically, while he was far from sympathetic. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic. I know she’s a bit out of your league, but dare to dream a little.”

“Very funny,” Dawson snorted and brushed off Harry’s hand. “But I think she has a crush on you.”

“Really? I mean, no!” Harry faked a laugh, crossing his arm and leaning against the door in an unnatural pose. “No way.” Now he sounded like a commercial guy who had never attended a single acting class. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t have a crush on me,” he stuttered. “W-Why do you think so?”

Dawson pressed his lips into an understanding smile that made Harry’s face grow red. “All she talked about for the entire night was you.”

Harry thought Dawson was just teasing him at first. Then he remembered that this was Dawson, not him. So it was true. Ezi had talked about him for the whole night when she was with Dawson.

“What did she say?” Harry asked, trying to seem more curious than excited.

“She told me you were a good cook, and then complained about your bad habits. Then it was all ‘Harry said that’ and ‘Harry said this’. It seemed like she was really into you.”

“Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged, trying to act cool and all that. “I’m just surprised. I thought she hated me.”

“I mean, she can still hate you if she has a crush on you,” said Dawson. “Also, why is she staying with you? Where’s her family?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you ask her?”

“She kept mentioning her mother but nothing more than that, and she’d just change the subject whenever I tried to ask.”

Harry didn’t have enough time to think of a lie, so he blurted, “Her family was abusive.”

Dawson looked horrified, but he completely bought that. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “She’s a lovely girl, though. I know that you don’t like her, but don’t break her heart. Turn her down nicely.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You don’t like Ezili, right?” Dawson asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughed, uneasily. “I mean no, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t wanna be in a relationship.”

Harry didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things. He guessed most people would just assume he had no heart because it was easier for them to make sense of why he wouldn’t settle down. In reality it was more complicated than that. He had had feelings for some people in the past, and he’d shut them down before he got to the point of no return. Ezi might be a dangerous creature, but he’d probably hurt more people than she had, mostly himself.

So did he like Ezi? Yes. He’d just realised that when his heart blossomed to the thought of her thinking about him on a date with his cousin. There was no denying that, as he only felt this way about his own songs. But was he happy about it? Well, yeah, of course he was happy about it. He was over the moon even. Still, that didn’t mean he should do something about it. He would just keep it to himself and wait–No, hope for it to pass.

Later that night, when Ezi came home from work, she went straight into the kitchen to eat from the fridge, and Harry came downstairs to find her sitting on the floor, munching off a sandwich in the fridge light glow. He watched her for a moment from the door before deciding to break the silence.

She flinched when hearing her name. She turned around, sandwich still in her mouth. “Did Dawson stop by?” she asked. “He said he would bring me my books.”

“Yeah, he did. I put them in your room,” Harry said, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the mention of his cousin. But then he remembered what Dawson had told him and came to sit beside her on the floor.

She ignored him and continued eating. She looked nothing like someone who had a crush on him, so what if Dawson had lied to him? He had never heard a lie from Dawson, but it didn’t mean Dawson was incapable of lying.

“Ezi, I wanna ask you something,” he said.

She finished her sandwich and reached into the fridge of ice cream. “Go ahead,” she said.

Harry started fidgeting with his shirt. “Why won’t you tell me about that date with Dawson?”

Ezi didn’t look at him as she said, “Do I have to tell you? It was personal.”

“Well, your sister was there,” he reasoned, “and she’s tried to kill me several times so I think I deserve to know some details about that night.”

Yes, Harry was curious about Ezi’s sister as well, but was it bad to say that he wanted to know more about what Ezi thought of him? Was it bad that Ezi’s feelings for him mattered more than his stupid life?

“My sister wasn’t there the whole time,” Ezi sighed and dipped her spoon into the ice cream. “I got rid of her at the fair then went for dinner with Dawson.”

“Oh,” Harry said, watching her intently as she ate. “So—”

“My sister wanted me to go back home.”

Harry froze. “Why?” he blurted, suddenly anxious. “I mean…does your mother want you back? Not that I think she won’t ever want you back—”

“No.” Ezi rolled her eyes. “My sister wants me to go back in return of the throne, so she can be Queen and allow me back into the Queendom.”

“But you wanna Queen?”

“I’m going to be Queen!” Ezi snapped. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, she softened her voice, “I’m the firstborn. I’m going to be Queen. I have a year to…” Her voice trailed off and she spaced out for a second.

“To what?”

Ezi pressed her lips into a tight smile then said, “To stay here. My sister told me that my mother would take me back in a year.”

“That’s the punishment?” Harry chuckled. “Make you stay in this world where a handsome man takes care of you and buys you stuff?” Maybe siren mums weren’t as bad as he’d thought.

“And also bullies me 24/7,” Ezi said.

“Hey!” Harry put up his hands. “You bully me, too.”

“You literally told me you didn’t want to see me around the house.”

“Yeah, well, I like seeing you around the house now.”

“Liar,” Ezi said and took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Harry tried not to pay attention to the way she licked the spoon or think about licking ice cream from her lips, but he knew he was going to see a lot of that in his dreams tonight.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ezi held his gaze for two seconds, squinting her eyes. “Fine,” she said at last. “I forgive you.”

“Well, that was easy.”

“For now,” she added, putting the ice cream back into the fridge. “I’ll hate you again when I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry eighty percent of the time!”

“Yeah.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her amber to the kitchen door. Clenching his fingers, he asked, “When’s your birthday?”

Ezi turned her head. “March 12. Why?”

“So I can say happy birthday to you on March 12.”

“Oh, thanks. Not looking forward to it, though.”

“Also,” Harry said fast before she left. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Niall had just reached one million followers on TikTok, so he’d thrown a huge party at his mansion and invited his friends who had brought their friends and their friends’ friends. So the most influential people in the entertainment industry were at the party tonight.

Jeff had suggested that Harry bring Ezi so they could do some PDA stuff at the party to make headlines for the next few days. At first, Harry had planned to make up some excuses so he could go alone.

He and Ezi hadn’t kissed since that day in his mother’s closet. Well, actually, they had had a few pecks on the lips in public, but it’d only been for the paparazzi. It was hard to think about romance when there were at least ten cameras pointing at you.

Their first kiss, however, had been real and…hot. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know how Ezi felt since she never talked about it, but he had the impression that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. He couldn’t stop thinking about her flushed cheeks and plum lips as she pulled back, confused yet wanting more. In his dreams last night, they had been in that closet, but their clothes had been discarded, and he’d been pounding her against the wall. It was so hot. He’d had to wank twice when he woke up and he couldn’t make eye contact with Ezi in the kitchen during breakfast. Now he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.

“Harry.”

Harry jumped when his name was called. Ezi gave him a questioning look. She was wearing a little pink strap dress and her hair was in a high bun. She looked so cute tonight; his stylist had done a great job.

“You okay?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his. He knew it didn’t mean anything and she was only doing what Jeff had told her to. But he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from acting up. “It seemed like your soul left your body for a second.”

“Sorry, this loud music gives me a headache,” he said and finished his glass of wine. Ezi didn’t drink. “You wanna dance?”

Her gaze shot up in surprise. “Do you wanna dance?”

“What do you mean? I’m a fantastic dance partner.”

“But I’ve never danced before. I just got these legs a few weeks ago.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be good at it, I’m sure. We’ll wait for a slow song.”

Niall walked by just in time to overhear the conversation, so he shouted, “Slow song for my besties Harry and Ezili!”

Harry tried to stop Niall, but it was too late. Everyone in Niall’s living room was staring at him and Ezi. Jeff would be happy about this, but Harry didn’t think Ezi was. Her fingers tightened around his as she stepped closer, apparently uncomfortable with the intrusive glances they were receiving.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll show them how great we are.”

“But I’m not—”

He didn’t let her finish and drag her out on the dance floor. There were a few couples slow-dancing around them, but Harry knew he and Ezi were the attention of tonight. In these people’s eyes, they were in love, completely infatuated with each other.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered in Ezi's ear while fixing her posture. “It’s easy.”

For a human who had been to too many of these dances, it was. But Ezi was barely good at walking. And so she ended up stepping on his feet repeatedly. The giggles of some women in the room made her even more anxious, so she almost stopped. But he reassured her by pulling her closer and lifting her chin so she was looking at him instead of them.

“Don’t be nervous. This is your little mermaid moment. Embrace it,” he said, making her smile.

“Ariel was a terrible dancer.”

“True. But she looked pretty stepping on the Prince’s feet.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow, amused. “Are you calling yourself the Prince?”

“I almost got casted for the role of Eric, by the way.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.

He acted offended. “No, it’s real.”

“As real as Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus is real,” Harry argued. “Not you saying he isn’t when you’re literally a mythical creature.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled.

“Make me,” he replied.

Harry didn’t know who had initiated it. Maybe they had both leaned in at the same time. But this time as they shared a kiss in a crowded room, it felt like they were all alone in his mother’s closet once again. Of course he had to keep his hands respectfully on her lower back, but the kiss was still hot. He could feel himself being unravelled right there on the dance floor, and he liked the way her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his neck as they melted into one. But then people had to ruin the moment for them by filming it. Jeff would be happy; Harry wasn’t.

He had developed a special talent over the years as a celebrity and could always sense when someone was taking pictures of him. It made him uneasy and distracted, so he had to pull back. He supposed his twisted expression might have given Ezi the wrong idea. She thought it was her that made him uncomfortable. And for some stupid reason, Harry let her think that.

They left the party early because Ezi didn’t seem to enjoy it anymore. On the drive home, Harry tried to find a way to apologise for ruining the moment, but he didn’t know how to not make it awkward. She didn’t say a single word to him in the car, and he knew she wasn’t going to unless he started the conversation. But then he didn’t. And so she went to bed angry at him.

Harry felt really bad about it. He knew it wouldn’t be this way if he had communicated like a normal human being. But it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d enjoyed kissing her, and he would’ve made out with her in front of all those people had it not been for who he was. He had wanted that moment to be real, but then he remembered it wasn’t, and he felt like he was taking advantage of her.

Maybe she felt that way, too. He wasn’t sure. Or she was just tired and didn’t really care about the kiss, and he was the one making a fuss out of it because he assumed he meant more to her than he really did. Again, Dawson could’ve lied. Ezi might not even have feelings for him. She might think he was a bad kisser even.

As Harry fell asleep that night, he dreamed about her again. They were alone in Niall’s mansion. The music was playing as they slow-danced but nobody was watching. She started kissing him, and he kissed her back. His hands reached around her to unzip her little pink dress and let it pool around her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was rock hard when they went in for more kissing. Her tongue slid between his lips, her hands reaching for his belt as he fumbled on the buttons of his own shirt. Then he woke up with a tent on his crotch. It was three in the fucking morning, and he was having the worst erection in his life.

Harry slipped his hand under the duvet and started playing with it to relieve some tension, but just as he was about to cum, he heard a loud crash downstairs. Instant boner killer.

“Ezi!” he shouted in frustration, slipped on his boxers and marched out of the room.

“I’m sorry!” Ezi’s voice echoed from downstairs. Harry groaned and headed down to the kitchen where he found her collecting broken pieces of a vase she’d knocked over.

“Just leave it,” he said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up and away from the glass. “You’d hurt yourself, idiot.”

“I’m sorry. It was dark. I couldn’t see.”

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”

She shrugged, which made him laugh, because that was very Ezi of her. “You’re a dumbass,” he said.

“I’m not,” she pouted.

“You are. This only happens to dumbasses.”

“Gosh, you’re an asshole,” she mumbled, arms crossed. She was standing with her back to the counter, and he was blocking her way from the door. Of course she could always sidestep him to leave, but instead, she stayed there, just awkwardly chewing on her nail. She was wearing nothing but a loose white shirt of his. And this time, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

“I’m not even looking at you,” he said, yet staring right at her face.

“You are.”

“How would you know? Unless you’re also looking at me.”

“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“No, you—” Ezi’s voice cut off; her gaze dropped to his mouth as if she hadn’t realised how close they were until now. Harry knew that look so well, and usually it would be a sign for him to make a move. But this was Ezi.

“I should go back to bed,” she said, eyes meeting his again.

He nodded, but didn’t get out of the way.

Again, he didn’t know who leaned in first. The moment their mouths collided, all his thoughts evaporated; his walls crumbled, and he was powerless, unable to pull back. There was a kind of power in the way she kissed that he could not resist. He was all hers.

He tightened his arms around her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto the counter. He could feel his erection growing again in his pants. It didn’t take too long for it to turn fully hard, and she obviously felt it, so she pulled back from their kiss, panting. “It’s…”

“Ignore it,” he breathed, kissing her again, making his way down to her neck and chest. She was squirming now, and he wondered if she was also feeling things down there. “Are you wet?” he asked breathlessly against her lips.

She blinked, confused. “No, I’m dry.”

“No, Ezi,” Harry chuckled, face buried in her neck. “I mean, are you wet between your legs?”

“Oh.” She licked her perfect lips and nodded once. “Yeah. Like most of the time.”

Harry’s whole body went stiff. “What?”

“Like...whenever I think of us kissing,” Ezi admitted innocently.

Harry didn’t know which was hotter. The fact that they were both half-naked and horny right now, or the fact that she got turned on just from thinking of kissing him.

“What do you usually do when it happens?” he asked, adding soft kisses to her lips.

Her fists tightened on his back, her eyelids fluttering. “I r-rub my thighs together.”

Harry smiled as his cock twitched to the thought of it. “Does that feel good?”

Ezi nodded.

“Want me to help you feel even better?”

“You can?”

Harry nodded. He knew it wasn’t right to have sex with her when she didn’t even know what it was, so he wouldn’t rush it. He was just going to help her.

He kissed her once more and got down on his knees between her legs. She looked so hot all spread out in front of him with just his shirt and panties on. She wasn’t lying when she said she was wet. Her panties were completely soaked as he slid them off. She shivered a little yet didn’t protest. She wanted him to help.

He started by kissing her inner thigh. She had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He could just cum to the thought of licking her, and he swore he almost did when he took the first try. Her hips jolted, and he glanced up to meet her confused stare.

“If you want me to stop, just say it, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, biting her nail.

He held her eye contact as he started licking. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in those dreams. He still couldn’t believe this was real, but god, the sounds she made sent him to heaven. He dipped his tongue into her and her hands flew to the back of his neck. For a moment she forgot everything and started moving her hips against his face. Fuck. It turned him on so much. He slipped his hand into his boxers and gave himself a few strokes. Then she started to moan, and he worked his hand faster while flicking his tongue into her. He fucked himself until she cummed and made a mess inside his pants, cum dripping onto the floor.

“Is that milk?” Her question got him cackling as he got back to his feet, holding onto the counter on either side of her so he wouldn’t fall. He had never cummed so much; it had literally drained him out.

“No, it’s not milk,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked so fucked out as well, which made him feel so proud. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you?”

“Very much,” he said. “I would kiss you again if I hadn’t just eaten you out. Not sure how you’d like it.”

A look of horror crossed Ezi’s face as she quickly checked between her legs.

“No!” Harry laughed. “I didn’t literally eat you. It’s what it’s called.”

“Oh.”

“Dummy.”

“Is it like...sex stuff?”

“Not really sex, just part of the sex. So yeah, sex stuff,” Harry explained, not sure how to feel about this situation. Now that post-nut clarity had hit, he started to feel a bit guilty, but it didn’t he wasn’t proud of himself for making her cum so hard her legs were shaking.

“I still want to kiss, though,” Ezi said shyly. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry smiled. He liked seeing her blush because of him.

With a nod, she pulled him back in.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic rec #harry styles dirty fanfiction

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

Text

Yandere Izuku Midoriya x Villain Male Reader

I would like to clarify something, I never watched “My Hero Academia,” so don’t know much about this show.

Warning: Violence, slight mention of bullying.

Requested from Pokadeathpony

Background: Midoriya is doing the normal thing patrolling the city when he finds this beautiful villain male and falls for him. Midoriya decides after already killing an investigator on M/N to join and be the best killing couple.

M/N: Male Name

V/N: Villain Name

E/C: Eye color

S/C: Skin color

H/C: Hair color

sorry if this is bad!!

———————————————————————————————————

Midoriya was patrolling the city at night when he noticed something happening in an alleyway. he saw a guy attacking someone else! As he got closer, he noticed the features of the assailant. (You’re a murder by the way.)

He had soft, fluffy H/C hair, a nice S/C tone that radiants from the gray and dark colors, and couldn’t see his E/C, but it must be beautiful like the rest of him. Midoriya blushed at his features. He had never felt this towards anyone. This is a new feeling to him.

He was stared for too long because M/n saw him and ran away. I wanted to stop him and bring him to justice but something in me told me to just let him go. ‘Well, I guess I won’t see him again.’ I sighed to myself as I walked away from the scene.

(Why didn’t you cover yourself in black clothing so you couldn’t be seen? Because of plot purposes.)

Flash forward to morning (By the way it’s summer break in this story. Again I have never seen the show, so don’t judge me.)

Midoriya’s sleep was disturbed by his alarm clock. “Ugh!” Midoriya groans as he smashed his clock. ‘Well, I’ll have to get a new one,’ Midoriya said to himself saying that this wasn’t the first time he has done it. Midoriya just laid there for the next 10 minutes before getting up.

‘What day is it today?’ Midoriya got up and checked the calendar, seeing that it was Spring Break. ‘Yes, It’s spring break!’ Midoriya went to the kitchen to make some breakfast and watch TV. Midoriya made a traditional breakfast that consists of steamed rice, miso soup, protein such as grilled fish, and various side dishes.

After making his breakfast he sat down and watched TV. nothing was really so he went on the News Channel. “Good morning everyone, it’s a wonderful day here in Musutafu I’m Himari Yamamoto, and now for the weather with Sakura Kobayashi.” (Random name I created.) it then flashed over to the Weather woman.

“Thank you, Himari Suzuki. So today, we have warm winds coming in from the south and today’s temperature is 18 °C (64 degrees Fahrenheit) now back to you, Himari.” she was done giving the weather.

“Thank you, Sakura, now onto breaking news. A dead body was found in an alleyway near (insert random restaurant name) last night at 10 something PM.”

(Does this sound like a good news broadcast?)

when the news lady said that Midoriya had a flashback to last night, he remembers seeing the cute murder. ‘Wait cute?!’ Midoriya was getting all confused about this. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the news say, “An investigator is currently trying to bring this murderer to justice.”

‘An investigator?!’ something is triggering Midoriya. For some reason, he’s mad at this person, but he should be happy that someone is going to bring them to justice. ‘Why I’m I like this?! What I’m I feeling?’ Midoriya was confused, did he like this murderer?

Time Skip (10 PM)

It was 10 PM, the same time Midoriya first spotted ‘him’. Midoriya hated night patrol (does he?) but this time he is actually was excited because maybe he’ll accidentally into him. Nothing really happened until he sees the same H/c and S/c. just to be sure, he got closer and he could confirm that was M/n.

M/n was just walking around. People assumed that M/n was a kind person and that he would never do anything bad towards anyone but behind closed doors, M/n can be the most dangerous person you’ll ever meet. He shows no mercy and is ruthless. But he only kills people who wronged him and people who bully him because he was the ‘quiet kid.’

Anyways M/n was just walking, he was going to the store to get some items. As M/n was walking he could feel someone watching him. He kept turning and looking around. This is what years of bullying can do to you, it makes you more aware but of course that all changed when M/n killed his bullies. M/n arrived at the store and got what he needs.

While walking home, he could still feel eyes watching his every move. ‘Is it that damn investigator?’ M/n yelled in his mind. But little did he know that those eyes were not from the investigator but from a hero.

Time Skip (3 weeks)

For the past three weeks, M/n felt like he was being watched. M.n could rule out that it wasn’t the investigator because he still doesn’t know who is behind all of these murders. As for Midoriya, he watched M/n from the top of the building just in the shadows. He learned a lot about M/n from stalking him, he discovered that most of M/n victims are his bullies. Midoriya is lovesick for M/n.

Midoriya finally understood what he was feeling. These feelings developed as he began to stalk M/n more. He denied it at first but it got more controlling. Midoriya wanted to join M/n but he couldn’t do that because of the investigator. So he had to deal with him.

Midoriya got out his phone and called him. It was ringing for moments until someone picked up, “Hello?” the man finally picked up. “Ah yes, is this Satoshi... Hashimoto?” “Yes, this is Satoshi. What do you need?” “This Izuku Midoriya and I want to help you with the murder cases.” “Wait you’re the Izuku Midoriya?!” Looks like Satoshi is a fan of Midoriya. MIdoriya is just getting more annoyed about this man.

“Answer my question. Yes or no? The more time that is consumed, the more time that killer is out there.” “Yes, I’ll be honored for you to help me.” “Okay, I want you to meet me at my apartment. Today at 11:00.” “Uhh, why your place?” “Do you want me to help or not?!” “Yes, sorry, I’ll be over there.” “Great see you at 11:00.” then Midoriya hung up.

Midoriya sat there with a sadistic grin on his face. ‘This night will be your last.’

Time Skip (11:00)

It was 11:00 and Satoshi should be arriving soon.11:10, Satoshi hasn’t arrived. 11:30 still hasn’t arrived. Just then Midoriya received a call. “Yes, I don’t know where you live.” *sigh* “Okay I live in the (Apartment name) complex, on the 4th floor. Go straight and then take a left, and go straight.” “Okay thank you.”

It was currently 12:10 AM and Midoriya heard someone knocking on the door. ‘About time.’ Midoriya got up and walked to the door, unlocking it. “Hey, Satoshi nice to meet you.” he extended his arm out. “Nice to meet you too,” Midoriya said while shaking his hand. “Come inside.” “Okay.” Satoshi walked inside and Modoriya locked the door.

Midoriya slowly walked behind Satoshi, pulling out the knife he had in his pocket. “So wha-” Midoriya put his hand over Satoshi’s mouth covering it so he wouldn’t make a sound. And Midoriya shoved the knife into his head killing him instantly. ‘So this is what murdering someone feels like?’ Midoriya didn’t feel guilty, he felt relieved.

Midoriya didn’t stop there, he continued to repeatedly stab Satoshi’s body. He cut his fingers off one by one. He cut open his chest and pulled his intestines out. Midoriya released all of his anger. “Tsk, what a mess.” Midoriya grabbed the body and put it in a trash bag. He cleaned up the blood and cleaned the knife.

Once completed Midoriya took the body to the nearby garbage dumpster and there it in. “Time to go to sleep.”

Time Skip (3 days)

M/n turned on the news and he was shocked at what he just saw. “The body of Satoshi Hashimoto was found in a dumpster. The killer is unknown but it is speculated that it’s the same murderer.” ‘I didn’t kill this man? If it wasn’t me then who was it?’ M/n thought to himself. But M/n didn’t care at least Satoshi wasn’t a problem anymore.

Times Skip (10:00 PM. Another one?! Just too lazy to put anything else.)

M/n was walking when he was grabbed and pulled into an alleyway. He was shocked at first but he regained his focus and looked up at who it was. ‘Just who I looking for.’ M/n smirked but before he could pull out his knife, and stab this person, someone else killed him. The body dropped to the ground revealing the person who was behind him. And it shocked M/n.

‘Midoriya?’ M/n mouth dropped. “Hello, M/n.” “How do you know my name?” “Well… you see. You caught my attention and... to be honest I was the one watching.” M/n couldn’t process what was going on. The MIDORIYA was interested in him and he didn’t care that I kill people? “But I kill people… how are you interested in me?” “Well I knew you were a killer but I just stayed quiet. And that investigator, Satoshi? I was the one who killed him.”

M/n was now more shocked. “You were the one who killed him?! Why though? I thought you were a hero?” “Yes, I was the one who killed. Why? Because while I was watching you, I started to develop feelings… sick feelings. And now the last question, I WAS a hero but now I want to join you.”

Not only does Midoriya want to join you in killing people but also has feelings for you. Sick feelings. ‘I mean Midoriya is kind of cute.’ you thought to yourself. “Fine, I give you a chance and you can join me.” Midoriya face lit up and he grabbed your face and pulled you into a kiss. You blushed at this. “Okay stop that, you need to prove yourself first.” Midoriya nodded his head.

Time skip (5 months later)

Midoriya proved himself showing you that he can handle it. He also was ruthless as you and showed no mercy. You also began to develop feelings for Midoriya and you confessed to him, he was ecstatic. He pulled you for a long kiss and you kiss back, melting into it. He pulled back and whispered.

“You’re mine. You belong to me and I belong to you.”

ANNOUCEMENT: I’m currently out of request! You can request me something. it has to be Male reader or gender-neutral, give a description, and you can request smut if you want. any male character from anime to your favorite celebrities. I need to create a rules section but I don’t know how to do that.

#izuku midoriya #x male reader #yandere #stalking #midoriya x male reader #yandere midoriya #yandere midoriya x male reader #mention of bullying #violence #sorry if its bad

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

A Little Braver - Chapter 10

Evening everyone!

I have a present for you.

This lady here will be off on holiday for a week on Friday, so I thought about landing the new chapter tonight.

This one is a juicy one and I hope you will love it. A bit of fluff before the angst gremlin comes back for a visit.

This chapter comes with a smut warning. Yes, you read correctly. In the future I will be using FTB mostly because I find it difficult to write and keep it non cringy, but for this chapter I wanted to try and add some hotness.

Also, for those who haver read Island Dreams, I am heading to Lewis on my holiday, and i might post some photo of the locations mentioned in the fic.

Well, now i can let you enjoy the chapter

Aelin was at home sitting on the sofa, enjoying the food she had just ordered in, a bottle of beer and hockey. Her favourite team the Stags was playing an away game with the Skull’s Bay Pirates.

The Stags were in the lead in the championship and the Pirates were just in second place, which made that game quite an important one. She was glad she had the night off although they would usually all camp in the communal area of the firehouse and watch the game all together. At least being at home meant she could have a beer.

Ice hockey in Terrasen was a religion. She had been a fan of the Stags since she was a kid and her dad would take her to the games. Then Aedion became her hockey buddy and once she joined the station she started sharing the passion with the rest of the team and they would also go and watch the games all together if possible.

She took a sip of her beer and kneeled on the sofa, the game was getting intense and she could not stand still.

In that instant her phone went off and she let out a curse.

“Oh for crying out loud.”

“What?” She answered while her eyes were glued to the tv.

“Good evening to you as well.” Rowan sounded almost offended by her brisk tone.

“Whitethorn, I am watching the game.”

“Uh?”

Aelin groaned as something happened on the screen and the Pirates almost scored.

“Ice hockey, Whitethorn. You have been in Terrasen enough to know it’s a religion here.”

He replied with a low chuckle. Then she heard him move and then all of a sudden a noise in the background and realised he had his tv on “wonder if they show it here. Wendlyn is not big on ice hockey.”

“You can tell. Their team sucks.” She drank a bit more “I can tell you that we are winning for now against the Pirates.”

“That’s the big match of the season I am gutted I am missing it.”

Aelin got agitated and swore a few times during some actions.

“You are a very scary woman.” She heard him switch off the tv “do you want me to call later?”

“No,” she said softly. She was actually quite happy. Since he had left three days before they had talked quite a lot over the phone at night and she had started to love their ritual. He was the one calling once he was free and she loved that new dynamic of theirs.

“How was your day training?”

“Oh, just wonderful. I spend my days dealing with cocky idiots who think they are gods because they have been admitted to flight school. Then they go ahead, mess up the exercise for everyone, almost get killed and have no respect for rank.”

She let him vent “sounds like you have a bad class.”

Rowan sighed loudly “I have been a flight instructor for six years. I had a few bad apples along the way, but this class is hopeless.”

“Can you do something about it?” She was still following the game but her attention had shifted to him. He sounded quite down.

“I reported them to the academy Commandant. I explained that starting flight school with the wrong foot was not recommended.” Another sigh “In the end it’s their school and they can do whatever they want. I don’t care. Being reckless in a jet is like jumping into a fire in t-shirt and shorts.”

“That would be very bad.”

“I know what the fuck I am doing. I have been doing this for the past 12 years. I have been in combat. Real bloody combat. Those idiots have only seen simulators. What do I need to do to be taken seriously?” He was really mad and Aelin wished she could do something for him.

“Ro, two weeks and a half and you are out. You are back with your team and students that you like.”

“How’s the game going?” He changed the topic, clearly being done talking about it.

“We increased our lead.”

She heard a popping sound “did you just crack open a beer?”

“Oh yes, I need it.”

Aelin smiled “I am having one too. Brullo has this friend who opened a brewery and I bought a few bottles and they are so good.”

“You have such connections and don’t even tell me?”

“I am sorry your highness.”

“You are excused this time. But don’t make it happen again.”

Aelin laughed “what are you going to do? Spank me?” And she froze. She should really need to learn to connect brain and mouth.

“Depends, will you like it?” His reply surprised her so much that she froze with the bottle halfway to her mouth.

“You just have to hang around and see for yourself.”

He moaned “I will need to get back to you on this.”

“Will it help you decide if I tell you that I am wearing a hockey jersey and nothing underneath? I just had a shower…”

“Aelin…”

“What? Are you interested all of a sudden?”

“Obviously.” He groaned.

“I am teasing you, I have clothes on, but good to see where you stand.”

She heard him groan in frustration “you really are a menace and I don’t know why I bother with you.”

“You don’t have to stay on the phone if I irritate you so much. You are the one who called.” She bit back. Why they always end up fighting?

“I did not mean it like that.”

“Well then go and learn how to communicate with people because I am sick and tired of your attitude.” Her tone had grown angrier.

“Aelin, please. I was joking.” His voice was thick with sadness.

“No, I am so fucking tired of this.”

“Why can’t you believe that I was joking? Why do you always believe that I hate you?” He shouted back “I have been quite supportive with you recently. I have flown in to stay beside you after you lost a colleague. You have a problem with my attitude?” He vented “well, yours is not any better either.”

Aelin sighed “Rowan, why do we always end up like this?” She lay down on the sofa, the game completely forgotten “we had a nice conversation and then it always gets ugly between us.”

“I am sorry…” he paused and meant it “I have been looking forward to calling you. I had such a bad day that knowing I was going to phone you kept me going. I didn’t want any of this. I did not want to fight with you.”

“We are both bad at communicating.” She relaxed a bit. She did not want to fight with him either. And he was right, he had been supportive and amazing. Then she had an idea “Ro, I have four days of holidays coming up. I booked them ages ago, I had plans but they went to hell. Would it be crazy if I flew to Wendlyn? I will play tourist when you work and be out of your way, but what do you think?”

“I’d love that. Very much. It really sucks here.”

“It’s for this Friday. I known it’s short notice—” he interrupted her.

“No, it’s perfect. I don’t have a class this Friday, I can pick you up at the airport. Have Saturday and Sunday as tourists and I assume you are flying back on Monday.”

“Yes.” Her heart started racing. It was a crazy plan, but all of a sudden she was excited.”Let me check my roster, because if I finish at a decent time I can fly in Thursday night so we have three full days. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Happily.”

“Ok, stay there Buzzard, I am putting you on speaker phone.”

She ran to the kitchen and had a look at the calendar on her fridge with her roster and cheered loudly.

“Whitethorn,”

“What?”

“I come off shift at four. Now let me check for planes.”

She went to get her laptop and sat back on the sofa, “do you know any good airlines for Wendlyn?”

He laughed “Yes, my own plane.”

“Funny. Us common mortals don’t have that privilege.”

“I have no idea, Fireheart, I haven’t flown commercial in a lifetime.”

“Fine.” Aelin was silent for a few minutes typing away and looking for flight options. “Ok,” she said after a while “I can get one flight that gets me into Doranelle at 10.45pm your time, is it too late?”

“I guess I will postpone my nap.” He joked and she laughed back. He suddenly relaxed. The fight had been verging on vicious and he had not cared for that.

“On Monday I can fly back with a noon flight.”

“That one is perfect. I can drive you back to the airport and be back in time for my class.”

Aelin smiled wickedly “great, give me five minutes while I book it. Go and do grampa stuff in the meantime.”

“I am not a grampa.” Aelin heard him munching on something. Knowing him it was probably a carrot.

“Ok, now I need to find a place where to stay.”

“My flat?” He added shocked that she would think about staying anywhere else “Aelin, I have a flat. It has a second bedroom. And you don’t have to worry about giving me anything because it’s a flat owned by the airforce. It’s not a castle but it’s nice. You are not paying for a hotel.”

“Are you sure? Three days with me 24/7. That’s a lot of fighting.” She asked. She loved the idea, but wasn’t sure yet if they could survive that long in close quarters without killing each other.

“Perhaps we can leave the fighting aside and work on us?”

Aelin was silent for a moment “Us? As in…”

“As in more than two idiots fighting and pining for each other.”

Her heart pounded in her chest “Yeah, that would be intelligent, wouldn’t it?”

“Definitely.”

“But that’s a conversation for when you are here.”

Aelin smiled. She could not believe it was actually happening.

Rowan yawned over the phone “This grampa here would like to go to bed now. It’s quite late here.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

“I am looking forward having you here.”

Aelin hugged the pillow all excited “me too. Good night, Buzzard.”

“Good night, menace.”

Aelin squealed and threw the pillow at the other end of the living room in utter joy.

Thursday had finally arrived. Aelin thought the day would never come and that time had slowed down on purpose just to annoy her.

“Aedion you are in charge while I am away, will you be fine?”

The man was driving her to the airport “I will be. Go and enjoy your break. We will cope.”

“Ok, you know you can always call Dorian. He can come out on a call.” She was nervous. She hadn’t been away from the firehouse on holiday since before Sam died and was worried about her team.

“Stop fussing. We will be fine. You need a holiday. You haven’t been away in a lifetime. You deserve this.”

She breathed out, relaxing at his words. She knew she could trust Aedion and Dorian had given her his blessing too.

“Just tell airforce boy to behave or I’ll scratch his toy plane.”

Aelin laughed. Rowan seemed to have a problem with the army but Aedion’s dislike seemed just as strong. To her it was just hilarious.

They arrived at the airport, she grabbed her duffel bag and backpack from the backseat and went to hug Aedion “thank you for driving me.”

“Let me know when you land on Monday and I will come and pick you up again.” And he hugged her back.

They parted and Aelin walked into the airport with a spring in her step and the biggest smile ever.

Rowan realised he had arrived at the airport a bit too early. He was so eager to see her that he had arrived with an hour to spare. He was a thirty year old man giddy like a child waiting for winter solstice presents. Considering their track record, three days together could go down in flame or be a success. A part of him was definitely anxious at the prospect, but when Aelin had suggested the idea he had no doubts. He wanted to do it.

Bored, he paced the arrivals section when a woman walked past him and her trolley ran onto his feet. He almost shouted at the woman but then decided to ignore it.

He viewed airports as pure madness. Utter chaos and he hated them. The good thing about his job was that if he had to travel for work he could use his jet. And when he used to travel with Lyria they had always driven. Now he remembered why he had avoided those places of pure chaos.

He moved to the big window where he could see the runaway and for a while studied the airplanes. One of his ex squadron mates after retiring from the airforce had become an airline pilot and on plenty of occasion had tried to convince him to join him, but Rowan always declined. There was little enjoyment in flying that way.

While staring at the aircrafts landing and taking off, his hand was tapping on the handrail with excessive energy.

He huffed a puff and and bored kept wandering around the airport. He had alway considered himself a decently patient man, but in that moment he felt as if he could not wait any longer. Had to really tell himself that she was coming and that it was not his imagination playing tricks on him.

Luckily by the time his wandering was over, the arrivals notice board had changed the status of her flight to on approach and he went in front of the arrival section, knowing full well it would still be ages before her entrance.

Forty minutes later he saw her and he was positive he now had the most stupid grin on his face. He recognised her golden mane tied up in a complicated braid. Gods, she was stunning and Rowan did his best not to drool too much.

She was dressed in simple jeans and a hoodie from the Terrasen Fire department and he chuckled. He waved at her and called as well.

Her smile when she spotted him could have lit up the night sky and he was positive his heart had just skipped a beat.

Quickly an eagerly he walked to her, making his way through the crowd that had gathered.

She ran to him, then dropped her bags on the floor and in an instant she was in his arms. He lifted her up and kissed her. Not caring about the consequences. She was there. That’s all he cared about.

She kissed him back and for a while they were the couple that meets again after a long time apart and could not keep away from each other.

“You are here.” He said kissing her again and then brushed her hair in a tender gesture.

She smiled at him and slowly slid down from his arms.

He bent down and grabbed her bags “let’s go. You must be tired.”

Aelin took his hand and he did not pull away “the flight was crap. As soon as we hit the ocean it was bumpy as hell.”

Rowan chuckled “those civilian pilots struggling to handle a bit of wind.”

With her free hand she pinched his side “Meanie.” She told him “and it was bad and scary.”

He kissed her head “be glad that you have never experienced what a really terrifying flight his.” His voice was sad for a moment and Aelin squeezed his hand back.

“My car is over there.” They reached his vehicle and he dumped her stuff in the trunk.

It was fifteen minutes later when they reached his flat.

“I am a bit outside town but I love it. Much easier to go to work as I don’t have to drive through the centre. Saves me so much time.”

They entered the building and Rowan headed for the lift but Aelin stopped “pet peeve of mine. I don’t take lifts. I have saved enough people trapped in them, that now I don’t use them at all.”

“It’s eight floors, Aelin.” He complained.

“It’s good for your butt. Let’s go grampa.” Aelin grabbed the duffel bag and backpack from him and threw them on her shoulder and made her way to the stairs.

He realised that she was used doing stairs. But he was lazy and always used the lift.

“I am taking my chances.”

Aelin grabbed his hand and pulled him away “Don’t be an idiot. Come on.”

He protested but in the end caved.

Aelin relentlessly climbed on for eight floors and Rowan followed a few steps behind cursing that he had chosen to fall for a super fit firefighter.

“I can tell you some horror storie that will put you off forever from using them.” She told him while climbing the steps two at a time.

When they finally reached his floor, Aelin wasn’t even tired, Rowan instead was ready to strangle her.

“Come on grampa, I am sure your butt and your heart are thanking you right now.”

“Move.” She moved aside and let him open the door of his flat.

Once in, he flicked the lights on and Aelin looked around. The living room was spacious, from one door she could see a kitchen but what stunned her were the floor to ceiling windows at the end of the living room and the view. She dumped the bag and walked there and went to the windows.

“This is amazing.” He stopped at her side “Doranelle is called the City of Rivers. It’s not as beautiful as Orynth but it has its charming spots.” He explained with flat voice.

“Well, from up here it’s pretty cool.” Below her lay a sea of lights, then looking more carefully, she noticed the dark areas and assumed those were the rivers. She was looking forward to see that sight during the day.

Rowan pulled her arm “come on, you must be knackered, I’ll show you to your bedroom.”

She followed him into the room and smiled when she saw the bed. It looked so cozy.

She looked at him smiling “Orynth is a few hours behind so I am actually quite fine.” Gently she pinched his arm “you are trying to get rid of me.”

“I was just being considerate. You flew here after your shift.”

In one step she was close to him “I am quite hungry, though.”

Rowan laughed and patted her head “I knew it so I made something that just could go back in the microwave. Give me five minutes.”

“I’ll go and get changed in the meantime.”

It was much later when she was finally full and she and Rowan were now sitting on the sofa watching some tv. She had curled up her legs under her and his hand was absentmindedly tracing up and down the length of her exposed leg. It was much warmer than Orynth so she was wearing shorts and a baggy t-shirt.

She turned to look at him and saw Rowan concentrated on the documentary they had been watching. His face was relaxed, the tension had left his body and the sight of him like that took her breath away. His features always had an hard edge, but in that moment, relaxed, she could not look away.

“Do I have something on my face?” A half smile appeared on his face.

“No.” She shimmied down to his side and leaned her head on his shoulder and he adjusted his position so she could be comfortable.

“You know I am not a pillow, right?”

In challenge, Aelin snuggled closer and her arms went around his waist. Rowan brought one arm around her shoulder and squeezed it almost in a silent gesture to tell her it was okay. He pulled her so close she was almost on his lap and in instant later his lips were on hers in a demanding kiss.

Aelin sighed in delight and melted in the kiss. Rowan’s hands sneaked under the t-shirt touching skin. The kiss turned avid, all teeth and tongue and eventually she found herself straddling him.

Her hips ground against his in a suggestive motion and a wicked smile spread across her lips when she felt him hard against her. Fingers found their target in his hair, and with a gentle tug she angled his neck and her lips began tracing its lines eliciting a loud moan from Rowan.

His strong hands were a steady presence on her sides, pulling her closer with his thumbs brushing timidly the underside of her breasts.

Rowan’s tongue slowly traced the shape of her lips and she opened for him and when he intensified the kiss she began pondering what that tongue of his could do somewhere else. That image was her undoing. Aelin came up for breath and looked at him, his eyes smoky with lust.

She looked at him with the same desire and she was positive he had noticed the need in her stare as well.

Then Aelin stood and removed her t-shirt revealing her bare torso. She moved a step back and without ever removing her gaze from him she wiggled her finger in an invitation, then turned and swayed her hips on her way to his bedroom.

Rowan ran a hand down his face and eventually stood and followed her.

Shit. He was in such deep, unending shit.

It was the middle of the night and both Rowan and Aelin were still awake. They lay naked under the blankets while she was nested in his embrace, her head tucked under his chin, while he traced lazy lines on her back with his fingers.

She looked up at him and noticed his downcast stare. He looked sad and could not understand why. They just had some mind-blowing sex. Three times.

“Hey, what is it?” She asked him, caressing his face.

He shook his head gently “nothing. Just thinking.”

“You are regretting this,” she said in accusation sitting up beside him.

Rowan threw an arm on his face and sighed “No.”

“Liar, that is not the face of someone who is happy after getting laid three times.” She folded her arms at her chest.

He remained silent and Aelin bent over to grab her clothes “don’t worry. I get it. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll find a flight home tomorrow.”

His arm shot out and stopped her, then he sat on the bed and pulled her back “please, no.”

“Then talk to me, damn it.” She threw her clothes back on the floor “I can’t read your mind.” She shouted back frustration rising again.

Rowan’s hands fisted for a brief moment “I am crazy about you,” he whispered, as if terrified by the admission “and there is a part of me that tells me that is wrong. Reminds me that I lost my wife a year and half ago and I should not replace her so quickly, not after I swore forever love at the altar.” he sat at her side but never looked at her, too scared of her reaction “I loved every single of minute we had together tonight but my stupid conscience keeps telling me that is wrong.” He lowered his head “and I know that my guilt will ruin everything, eventually.”

Aelin fully turned to him and cupped his face “Ro, look at me.” He lifted his eyes and stared in the blue depths of her own eyes “for some crazy unexplained reason I fell for you as well. I think I must be crazy,” she chuckled “I know your pain. Sam was not my husband but almost. After I lost him I promised myself I would not commit anymore. The pain of losing him was so bad that I decided I’d rather remain alone than suffer again.” She told him, caressing his cheek with her thumb “then you annoying bastard came along and destroyed all my resolutions. I wanted to hate you, for so many reasons, but the more I tried to do that, the more I failed.” His lips twitched in a faint smile “the way I see it, moving on is not a betrayal on your wife. You will alway love her, as I will always have a space for Sam. We are in our early thirties, what do you want to do? Stay celibate and miserable for the rest of your life? Pass on opportunities just because you want to be faithful to her?” She explained “also, and I do not mean this to be disrespectful, but didn’t she have divorce papers ready and a plan to cut you off from your kid’s life?”

Rowan collapsed back on the bed and sighed heavily. She was right. He had loved Lyria but she had planned to leave him. “what do you want to do?”

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“About us.”

Aelin leaned against him and snuggled back to his chest “one step at a time, remember?” She looked at him and his wonderful green eyes shone in joy “and if my memory does not fail me, you told me you were all in if I were.”

Rowan nodded gently and kissed her head “I still am.”

“Well, we have covered sex, even if we broke the rules, and we know that in that field we have plenty of chemistry, we just need to learn to talk without shouting and communicate better. We both have lots of baggage. What I suggest is that we spend these three days playing couple and once you come back we’ll just go from there.”

His arms folded around her and pulled her as close as possible, her golden hair in his face and the scent of lavender enveloping his senses “I think I like this plan.”

“Good, now let’s sleep though. It’s the middle of the night.”

Aelin kissed him and not long after fell asleep in his arms.

Rowan woke up the following morning and smiled at the warm body at his side. Aelin was sprawled on him, using his chest like a pillow. The blanket had fallen down to her waist and he realised they had fallen asleep naked. With his fingers he traced gentle lines on her shoulders, then leaned over and deposited a few kisses fully inhaling her scent. She moaned and slowly came to awareness and when she realised where she was she gave him a wonderful smile and he kissed her, fully, avidly.

“Someone looks happy,” she joked brushing his short hair.

“Nope, just trying to get back my side of the bed.”

She gently patted his shoulder but Rowan rolled on top of her and gave her a deep kiss “good morning, you.”

She stretched luxuriously in his arms then she kissed him back pulling her body close to his.

“Mmmm,” she moaned “morning wood or are you just happy to have me with you?”

He kissed her, then his head dipped in the hollow of her neck and his tongue traced the length of it “both.”

“We should definitely tend to it.” She teased and a moment later she straddled him “I do like being in charge, just so you know.” She leaned forward and kissed him, then disappeared under the blankets and Rowan cursed as soon as her mouth was on him.

Rowan stood and still naked went to make breakfast. They had remained in bed much longer that he had planned but it had been totally worth it. Their chemistry in the sheets was definitely perfect. Aelin followed him and she leaned, naked as well, against the counter. He bent forward and kissed her “we definitely need coffee.” She turned and Rowan looked at her, her long blond hair unbound and reaching her lower back. Along ragged breath escaped from him, then he went back to preparing breakfast. Staring at her naked form could lead to more dillydallying and he wanted to take her out to explore.

She walked back to him with two mugs of coffee while he finished to prepare French toast.

“Take the strawberries out the fridge, please.”

“I usually put maple syrup on.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “well, I am making them so we follow my rules.”

She pinched his butt “brute.”

Five minutes later they were sitting on the sofa, enjoying their breakfast. She brushed his hair with her hand. “Thank you for this. It was so lovely.” She placed her empty mug on the coffee table together with her plate and she turned to him fully and went for a kiss. Now that they had crossed that line she could not keep her hands off him. He pushed her down on the sofa, laying on her back and he kneeled between her legs. She propped herself on her elbows opening more for him and bit her lower lip at his lustful glance “you are so cute like this…” his voice rough with need.

Without ever averting her gaze she brought a finger to her mouth and slowly sucked it in a suggestive gesture, then her hand trailed down along her abdomen.

“Touch yourself.” At the same time his hand went around himself and started moving up and down while watching Aelin. Her fingers circled around her sensitive spot and he saw her threw her head backward and close her eyes. Her mouth slightly open. He leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue brushing her lips before clashing with hers. Her fingers buried inside her and Rowan lost it. He pushed her all the way down “I can’t fucking resist you.”

She looked up at him and smiled wickedly “then bury your dick inside me, captain.”

Rowan lifted her and walked back to the bedroom in a quick motion.

His mouth landed on her breasts and Aelin’s hands kept him there, while he sucked and teased with his teeth. A moment later he moved away and went for the drawer grabbing a tie and Aelin lifted her arms above her head as soon as she realised his intentions.

“This is very interesting, captain…”

Rowan very gently tied her hands to the boards of the head of the bed and then sat on his haunches to stare at her naked form in adoration.

“You are stunning,” he said while slowly caressing her belly. Keeping her hips in place he bent forward and his face disappeared between her legs which then quickly propped on his shoulders.

A savage moan left Aelin’s lips as his tongue found its target on her bundle of nerves and when he teased her with a finger she was all ready to combust.

“Fuck Ro— ” he cut her words with a second finger inside her. Those long digits that curled inside her, causing her legs to jerk while she felt the pressure build inside her. The orgasm creeping up quickly.

“I need you….” She told him breathlessly.

Rowan smiled, undid her ties and turned her around and then tied her again. He grabbed her butt and propped it up and his mouth was on her in an instant “you are so wet and ready for me.”

He went up on his knees and aligned himself with her entrance. His first thrust was gentle and enough to allow her to get used to him, he pulled back just a little and slammed into her to the hilt.

“More…” Cried Aelin grabbing the pillow and fisting her hands in it.

“More…” she begged him again.

His speed increased and Aelin felt her core tighten.

Rowan reached with his finger and teased her clit at the same time. Aelin moaned in the pillow as his ministration grew in intensity, until she could not hold it any longer and pleasure exploded in her making her crash over the edge. And while she was about to collapse into oblivion, she realised that Rowan hadn’t joined her in his release.

The grip on her hips grew stronger and she knew she was going to carry some marks. She met his thrusts and when his pace became frenzied she knew he was close as well.

“Aelin, I am— ” he groaned loudly as he spilled into her and then collapsed exhausted on her back. He deposited gentle kisses on her back then collapsing exhausted at her side.

Rowan untied her then he took her hand and brought it to his chest “you are a wicked woman.”

Aelin chuckled “I had no idea I had it in me. I never… I mean Sam and I we never… this way, tied hands and all..…” Rowan brought her hand to his lips “Lyria and I did it, at the very beginning. Then it stopped and we calmed down until it became mechanical just because we were married. Once she found out she was pregnant she did not allow me to touch her at all.” He rolled over, facing her and his hand caressed her face “I thought it was because she was not well but…” he sighed “I haven’t told this to anyone but I suspected she was cheating on me.” He confessed and felt lighter. He had kept that to himself for a very long time “and to make things worse, I have a very, very strong feeling that the child was not mine. I think she lied to me on how far along she was.” He closed his eyes for a moment in a pained expression “I know she had stopped being happy about our life for a while. Whatever I did was not enough. She wanted me to retire and give up my job.”

Aelin extended her hand and brushed his cheek with the top of her hand “but she knew from the beginning what you were and what you job entailed?”

“Yes, I was clear from the start. Explained that my job took me away from months on end and all the dangers involved in it as well.” He closed his eyes enjoying the touch of her hand on his face “I think she hoped I would drop my career after we got married.”

“I loved her. I did all I could to show her that I was doing my best to keep the promise I made her at the altar.” He covered her hand with his “I failed her.”

“No,”Aelin whispered, this was conversation was giving her an insight into him and she realised she had no idea of how much pain and regret he was keeping bottled in him.

“I can’t fail you as well.” And she heard his voice break and snuggled closer to him “Ro, look at me.” She pulled his chin down to her “I am all in. I want to be all in. I am terrified, but I run into fires as a job, I know how to control my fears.”

He kissed her in a heartbreaking sweet kiss “I don’t deserve you.” His voice soft.

Aelin cackled “No one does, I am amazing that way. But you come pretty close to being worthy.” She joked and he kissed her back.

Rowan pulled away from her and then pushed her off the bed “come on, time to explore.”

Her blonde head emerged from the side of the bed “shower is mine.” And she bolted for the bathroom, he ran as well but once he got there she slammed the door in his face.

“Don’t spend half an hour in it.” He shouted. Then the door cracked open a little and her hand darted out “there is space for two…”

Rowan laughed and followed her inside.

The shower took much longer than expected and when they finally left the flat it was much later that he had planned. The whole morning had been totally worth it though, they had talked and he had a feeling it had helped move their complicated relationship in the right direction. He had even confessed her things he had never mentioned to anyone. He felt like he could trust her. She knew loss and darkness like he did.

They had lunch at one of the street vendors he had grown to love and now they were walking hand in hand along one of the the rivers and off toward the palace. Aelin walked silent at his side, taking in the city. “That’s the old royal palace.” He pointed at the stunning building they could see in the distance. “There was a monarchy once… and then the people rebelled and it got ugly and it went down and a government similar to what we have in Orynth was created.”

“The palace looks stunning.”

“I think they do tours to go inside. It’s where the government resides now but some areas are open to the public.”

“It’s fine I’d rather walk around and see the city. We can just see the palace from the outside.”

“As you wish,” his arm went around her shoulder and the feeling was incredible.

They walked to the palace and Rowan guided her behind it. When they arrived she was speechless. “It really is the city of rivers.”

Eight of them joined just behind the palace to form a gigantic basin with isles in the middle full of trees. In some parts the rivers went down a wall forming a waterfall.

“This is… gorgeous…” then she looked over and the spray of the waterfall had formed a beautiful rainbow “look,” she said to him pointing ahead.

He pulled her closer and kissed her temple “It’s quite an amazing corner this one.”

Aelin disentangled from him and walked around the area for a while and Rowan took photos of her. She was wearing an amazing green dress with a flowy skirt and he could not keep his eyes off her.

“Come here you.” He did as he was told and joined her. “Hold me from behind.”

His arms went around her waist and they both gave their back to the basin. Aelin moved her phone so they both could be in the picture together with the magnificent background.

When she was about to click he kissed her temple.

Aelin looked at the photo “I am gorgeous.”

Rowan scoffed “I think you are the one who should move in with ego, although I think that in your case he needs a house on his own.”

She ignored him while she changed the picture as her phone background.

“I am pretending you never said anything.” And walked away from him.

Rowan laughed and a moment later he grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a kiss “Indeed you are stunning, captain.”

Aelin offered him her hand “shall we continue our tour?”

He took the hand she offered and they continued their exploration. They made their way to the area that was known as the historical one. The houses were built in stone of different colours and it looked very charming “here there are a lot of lovely small shops and some very cozy restaurants. It’s probably the most beautiful part of Doranelle.”

They continued walking until they reached a very colourful area “this is so pretty,” said Aelin pulling him toward the built up area.

Aelin dropped his hand and started walking toward all the small shops. She noticed a bakery and she walked in and Rowan followed in silence. Once inside he noticed she was busy chatting with the owner about their delicacies. Five minutes later she joined him with a bag in her hands.

“Did you buy the entire shop?”

She inclined her head and gave him a smile “almost.”

They reached the main square and discovered there was a market on and the place was full of stalls and food vendors. The air smelled of spices and food and Aelin stopped at every food stall enjoying some samples of the local food and buying some as well. Rowan followed her in silence and enjoyed seeing her relaxed.

“Are you going to spend you entire salary on food?” He joked, placing a hand on her lower back.

She turned and looked at him “I am on holiday Whitethorn, shush.”

They reached the end of the road and Aelin stopped in front of a clothes shop. In the window they had the most stunning black dress she had ever seen. She took Rowan’s hand and dragged him in.

“Hi, I saw the black dress in the window, is it possible for me to try it on? It’s stunning.”

“Of course,” said the shop owner “I make all the dresses myself.” She passed it to Aelin and pointed to the changing room.

Rowan sat on a chair and waited for her while his mind tried to picture her in the dress. When she finally emerged again he realised he had no idea how to picture her in such a dress. He swallowed hard as she walked to him.

“What do you think?” She turned to give him a full picture. The back of the dress dropped in a curve halfway down her back. It hugged her curves spectacularly and it had a cut up to above her knee. He was close to a heart attack.

“You… it’s…” he actually had no words “you are perfect.”

She smiled at him and for a brief second Rowan wished they were back in his room because he wanted to show her in another way what he really thought about it.

“Good, I am taking it. I will find an occasion to wear it.”

Once they were outside Aelin looked at him “did you really like the dress?”

Rowan wound his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, his mouth close to her ear “I had so much fun imagining all the possible ways for me to peel that dress off you.”

“That’s the type of dress I would wear completely naked underneath by the way…”

He pulled her to his chest and bowed down for a kiss “I really hate that we are in public right now.”

She kissed him back. She was loving this side of him. One she had not expected him to have. He always appeared so composed and impossible to fluster. But under the captain’s mask she was discovering him to be quite a very interesting man.

“You can ravish me tonight.” She added smiling against his lips and then walked away, leaving him alone and dumbstruck.

Yes, they could make it work.

She really wanted to.

TAGS

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@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

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#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #Throne of Glass series

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

15x20

Spoilers for Season 15x20 finale

Summary: This is a semi-rewrite of episode 15x20...

Pairing: Dean x reader (reader is treated more like an OC than a typical reader)

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, major 15x20 spoilers

A/N: I wrote this for myself honestly. I know it is idealistic and was never going to happen. Again, I’m sharing simply if you’re interested but please feel free to ignore. This picks up from a very obvious point in the episode...

______

Dean POV

“Fuck,” said Dean, his hand over his chest. Something big was stabbing into his back. This felt wrong though. A dull, achy pain trickled up and down his spine and across his chest. His heart was racing up and slowing down when it wanted and Dean shut his eyes as he recognized the feeling in his bones.

He was dying. The kind of dying a doctor can’t fix.

“Jack!” shouted Sam, Dean peeling open his eyes as he realized Sam was besides him, hand covered in blood. A few seconds later Jack appeared in front of them eating a bar of nougat. “Jack fix him. Please.”

“He said he was hands off,” said Dean with a wince, his whole body shaking. Jack cocked his head and walked over, touching Dean’s forehead. The next thing he knew, Dean was sat on the ground and taking a deep breath, the pain gone as he looked up. “You said you were hands off.”

“You’re my dads. Why wouldn’t I help you?” he asked, a confused look on his face. Dean chuckled and nodded, still holding onto his chest. “You seem upset. I’ll pop you guys home.”

“Kid there’s-”

“Those boys are okay,” said Jack, snapping his fingers. Dean was suddenly sat on the steps up into the library, Jack mentioning something about taking some nougat from the pantry before he headed out.

“You alright?” asked Sam. Dean shook his head and he took a seat. Dean rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest and shuddered. “Jack got there in time.”

“If he hadn’t-”

“Dean-”

“If he hadn’t...because it was bad, Sammy. If he hadn’t...I’m so proud of you and I love you, so fucking much. I couldn’t have asked for a better baby brother, a better best friend. You just gotta tell me something. When the time comes, you’ll be okay without me. Tell me Sam. Please.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Sam quietly. Dean nodded and moved his hand to his lap, Sam scooting closer. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What?”

“Let’s get a house. We can get a big yard for Miracle. Run an operation like Bobby did, do the occasional case. Let’s go live more,” said Sam. Dean paused but rubbed his chest again and smiled.

“Dibs on the master bedroom,” said Dean. Sam chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. This place is home but I wouldn’t mind an upgrade.”

Two Months Later

“Miracle!” called Dean when he ignored the ball Dean had just thrown across the yard and ran around the corner of the house. “Miracle!”

“I think your daddy’s looking for you,” Dean heard a voice giggle. He walked around the house and saw a woman knelt down and ruffling the dog. “You’re so cute. You’re so cute.”

“Yes, I am,” smirked Dean as the woman popped her head up. “So, how can I help you and why are you parked in my driveway?”

“I’m Y/N. Y/N-”

“I heard of you. Hunter out of Alaska right?” he asked as she nodded. “You work a lot of Canada cases.”

“I did,” she said with a shrug. “I was thinking of retiring down south. Wondering if you got any tips on how to adjust.”

“A dog helps,” he said and she smiled, Dean looking her up and down. “You do realize this is Austin, Texas right?”

“This is south to me,” she said. “I know Donna through a friend of a friend. She said it’d be cool if I came and talked to you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” said Dean, Miracle running over to the ball and rushing back with it. He nudged Dean’s hand and Y/N smiled. “You mind chatting while we do some fetch?”

“Not at all, Winchester.”

“Kinda funny how Eileen and Y/N know each other,” said Sam, Dean looking out the back window to where the girls and Miracle were sat on the back deck after dinner drinking a beer. Dean hummed and dried a plate, Sam nudging his arm. “You like her, don’t you.”

“You like her.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I like her. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A gorgeous, former hunter with your kind of humor, love for pie, muscle cars and classic rock that’s single just happens to have stuck around long after she got done talking to you.”

“I invited her to dinner.”

“She understands the life Dean. All the shit we carry. You’ve never tried with a hunter. Give her a chance.”

“Tried what?” said Dean, putting the plate in the cupboard.

“You can have a relationship Dean. I’m pretty sure she likes you too,” said Sam.

“Hello, Dean,” said Castiel, both guys jumping as they spun around. They stared at the angel as Cas looked around. “I enjoy your home. The air is fragrant.”

“It’s a candle,” said Sam, pointing to the flickering light on the countertop. He blew it out and Dean walked around the island, shaking his head.

“Where the fuck have you been?” said Dean, giving Cas a hug. Sam joined them and Castiel shrugged.

“Rebuilding heaven is labor intensive process,” said Cas before turning to Dean. “I felt you would be coming there soon a few months ago.”

“Why didn’t you pop down when you knew he was dying?” asked Sam.

“You are humans,” said Cas with a pout. “You will die someday. It’s an inevitable fact. Time is very strange in heaven in its relation to earth. I assumed you were an old man.”

“No, not old,” said Dean.

“Would you two like for me to prevent your deaths until a certain age?” asked Cas.

“No,” they both said, Dean smiling.

“But if we ask for help, you will help?” asked Dean.

“Always,” said Castiel. He tilted his head and looked out the back window. “Who is the woman with Eileen?”

“Y/N. Hunter from the Yukon area. Dean has a crush,” said Sam. He smirked when Dean whacked his arm, Cas still cocking his head. “You know her?”

“She’s quite drawn to Dean. Metaphysically speaking.”

“Yes cause whatever you just said was very clear. Like I’m five Cas,” said Dean. Cas sighed and pursed his lips.

“Jack has given me some extra power to help assist him better. I can see more of a person now,” said Cas. “Their energy, soul, things of that nature.”

“Okay...so what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“Oh your souls are quite intertwined. She’s your soulmate,” said Cas.

“Really?” said Dean, allowing a brief smile to cross his face.

“She also has a growing inoperable mass in her head that will kill her in the next few years. She suffers from headaches quite frequently,” said Cas. Dean sat down at the counter and stared out the back door, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Why can’t I be happy?” he breathed out. “For a fucking minute I can’t even be happy before the rug gets pulled out.”

“...Did you not want me to heal her?” asked Cas. Dean rolled his eyes and Cas’ glowed blue for a moment. “She’s fine now. You seem...emotional.”

“Well I am Cas,” said Dean.

“You’ve been off since that hunt and the barn,” said Sam.

“Sam I shouldn’t be alive,” said Dean. “I got lucky.”

“You have sacrificed your entire life for others, Dean,” said Cas, Sam taking a seat next to Dean. “You should take advantage of your powerful friends. Let others care for you now. I will speak to Jack about the remaining monsters and their relocation to somewhere better suited for them, perhaps a new world.”

“Everything alright?” asked Y/N, slipping in through the back door with an empty beer bottle.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” said Sam.

“Liar,” she said, smiling at Dean. “I’ll be right back.”

She excused herself to the bathroom, Sam and Cas going outside. Dean got another set of beers out just in time for Y/N to return.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Shoot,” said Dean, handing her the drink.

“Your friend, the angel, did he just heal me? I’ve had constant headaches for awhile now. Brain tumor. I feel different. You guys wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?”

“You deserve to enjoy your retirement,” he said. “A very long retirement. You’re fine now.”

“I won’t be mad about that,” she said, leaning against the counter by him. She took a long sip and smiled. “I like you, Dean.”

“I like you,” he said.

“I’m gonna stick around town for a bit, see if things work out,” she said. He nodded and smiled, watching her smirk. “So there’s really no more monsters?”

“Uh, what?”

“I overheard Castiel when I walked in. Guess we’re really out of jobs now,” you said.

“I got an offer for a construction manager,” he said.

“You gonna take it?” she asked.

“I think so. What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said. “Gotta keep busy somehow.”

“What’s your retirement look like?” he asked. She shrugged and smiled. “Now that death isn’t imminent.”

“Maybe I’ll find a guy, try the domestic thing,” she said, a soft smile staying on her lips. “Know anyone who might be interested?”

“I’m sure I can think of someone, sweetheart.”

One Year Later

“So what do you think?” asked Sam as he spun around in his suit in the family room.

“What do we think junior?” asked Dean, the baby on his lap clapping his hands. “He says dad’s gonna score tonight.”

“I fear for you teaching my son things when he’s a teenager,” chuckled Sam.

“That’s what Uncles are for,” said Dean as Y/N got up from the couch and started fixing Sam’s tie.

“And what Aunt’s are for to rein them in,” she said, smoothing it out.

“Thank you,” said Sam. “Hey, when you two gonna have a kid?”

“Who says we aren’t?” smirked Dean. Sam went wide eyed and she rolled hers.

“We’re trying just recently. You will literally be the first to know once we do,” she said. She winked and Sam narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between them then down to her stomach.

“You’re so pregnant.”

“Ugh, we were gonna surprise you guys. Let us surprise, Eileen at least,” she said.

“You guys are pregnant!” said Eileen from over the balcony upstairs. Y/N laughed and headed up, Sam taking a seat next to Dean and plucking his son into his arms.

“You’re gonna be a real good dad. You got a lot of practice,” said Sam. Dean shrugged and Sam gave him a side hug. “I’m really happy he gets to know his Uncle, Dean. You’re gonna do great.”

“I’m really happy I get to be here too,” said Dean. He sat back and shut his eyes. “I owe you one.”

“For what?”

“The barn. I thought Jack wouldn’t come. I didn’t even bother. I thought that was gonna be it,” said Dean. “I didn’t want to go yet.”

“You don’t owe me for that,” said Sam, handing the baby back when he heard feet on the stairs. “Be good for Uncle Dean, baby boy.”

“Go have fun on your date, Sammy,” said Dean.

“You have fun on your stay at home date,” chuckled Sam. “See ya later, De.”

“Later, Sammy.”

_________

#spn #spn spoilers #dontspoilthefinalhunt #spn season 15 spoilers #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural sam winchester #one shot

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years

Text

Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

#bsd x reader #armed detective agency #x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #fluffy angst

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everything-laito · 3 years

Text

About time I finally finish this; here’s the final part of the Laito and Cordelia analysis saga

Hiya! It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it? Like I said in the previous parts, I’m just going to be answering Cordelia/Laito questions that I’ve received before the saga came out or during the time I was releasing analysis parts. So without further ado, here’s the last part under the cut!

Here’s the rest of the saga, that I recommend reading in order!

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

This was sent to me in an ask before the Laito/Cordelia analyses began. I knew I was going to touch up on some of this before hand, but the reason why Laito doesn’t have a chance of having DID or the like is because I do believe he was groomed as a child! I gave my argument here, in part I section 2. The grooming process is an attempt to make the child trust and rely on the predator so they believe that they cannot be abused or hurt by them. It’s why Laito was later on so confused by his trauma and feelings towards that situation, because he thought it was good to do those actions with Cordelia. Regardless, I do not believe Laito has DID because like you said, there is a chance that this happens, and also the first time when Cordelia did sexually abuse him (to our knowledge) did not start when he was a child since that was the process of him being groomed.

I do believe forming repressed memories over traumatic experiences is more common than forming DID or other disorders like it. I’d say Laito suffers more from repressed memories or at least forgotten ones than DID, considering he didn’t suffer from sexual trauma when he was a kid and also he’s still haunted by memories from his nightmares. Sometimes (as we see in the games) he’s surprised by some of the surfaced memories his nightmares bring him, which gives the inclination that those memories were either repressed or he’s just lived for so long he’s simply forgot about some of those details.

(Also, it’s not good to compare types of trauma and abuse, just another thought! It’s personal for everyone, and saying a type of trauma is worse than another invalidates one’s experience with it, not to mention it’s comparing “apples to oranges” as they say)

I think both of these are the same question? Or similar at least? But please correct me if I’m wrong!

I’m honestly not entirely sure on this one. Cordelia didn’t want to have children in the first place, so I don’t know if she would care. I don’t even know if she really realized that Karlheinz was abusing her in the first place. If she saw it first hand and it kinda struck her to a deep level??? Maybe??? But maybe she would be like “oh that’s normal” considering she justifies her trauma in a way by saying that she loves and hates him (I believe she also said that like Laito??? If I am wrong please call me out for it and I’ll edit this :)). She just has several unhealthy and abusive coping mechanisms. So I don’t know, but I’m leaning towards a “no” since she’s pretty full of herself and doesn’t show to feel empathy for other people aside from Karlheinz in a twisted fashion.

Hope that makes sense!

That’s a very very interesting question! I do believe he would have, eventually?? Considering he did want to be the one to kill her since he “loves her so much that he hates her.” We do know from Dark Fate that Karlheinz wanted the triplets to kill her eventually, which is why that abusive household was strung up in the first place through his puppet strings. So I’d say so. Maybe he would have snapped one day and done it. Nonetheless, that’s a very interesting prompt to think about!! If I think of anything more, I will definitely add to this :)

Karlheinz did know about Laito and Cordelia even before he “found out.” In fact, he wanted something like that to happen in order to create the conditions (somehow) to create a new human race. I think that he might have locked up Laito in order to just make the situation worse and to “show” Cordelia that he still “cares” about her.

Karlheinz is also an abusive prick too, considering he did all of this on purpose. He’s the true villain of the story, pulling the strings. I definitely recommend playing Laito’s Dark Fate route, it’s absolutely amazing. If you can’t play it, I definitely recommend reading it, however Hirarin’s voice acting is definitely half of the emotion :)

But basically, Karlheinz never cared about Cordelia, that’s the sad part. He just used her for his eugenics experiment. In Ayato’s More Blood flashbacks in his Maniac Epilogue, Cordelia gets a blue rose from Karlheinz, which means “impossible” or “unattainable.” Ironic, considering blue roses actually do not exist! Well... kind of. The true “blue rose” looks more like a purple color. Blue pigment in nature is very rare in comparison to other pigments. Natural blue roses to not exist, and it has been quite the feat for biotechnologists to make a blue rose, given the meaning of “impossible.” A true blue rose (that has not been dyed or is fake) still does not exist to my knowledge, but I'm assuming the demon world has blue roses haha. However, Ayato knows that blue roses means “impossible,” so he crushes the rose. Cordelia, however, is blissfully ignorant and gets mad at Ayato for crushing it.

Karlheinz is just a goddamn snake. He just sent a complete double meaning to Cordelia (honestly,,, probably where Laito gets his snakiness) with her unaware of his true meaning. His love is “impossible” and “unattainable” to her.

And there you have it folks! The end to the saga. Feel free to send me any Laito and Cordelia related asks! I just wanted to compile the ones I had in my inbox just to close it all off and to tie any loose strings too. Thanks for being on this journey with me! More to come soon, as always, I’ve just been wicked busy with school. But thanks for all the support you’ve given me as always :)

also, guess I am immortal considering I don't have tendinitis by the time I finished writing this saga laksdjf

#analysis #Laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito #diabolik lovers #dialover #dialovers #dl #cordelia sakamaki #sakamaki cordelia

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Beyond the bay part 21: Trouble in paradise

Summary: Raph encounters a friend

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @dakotafinely

Content warning (more severe warnings will be colored red so triggers can be avoided while reading) - swears, violence, blood, capitals/bold, passing mention of r*pe, mentions of lynching, mentions of Murder, mentions of violence involving a child

It was Raphael’s decision to split the team into thirds. Three patrols, split evenly between teams of two. They could get the patrol done three times as fast as they could otherwise, even if not everyone was happy with who they were paired with. Raph had been hoping to get paired with Raphael or Michelangelo— hell, he would have even been happy with the younger, weirder theatre version on Donnie! The only one he didn't want to get paired with was the one he was paired with: Leonardo. He didn't have anything against the kid but, to put it bluntly, he was pissed. Pissed that his Mikey was hurt and pissed there was nothing he could do about it and pissed he would get stuck with someone so much like his Mikey when he just wanted to blow off some steam. How could he be mad when every time he looked at Leonardo all he saw was his baby brother that couldn’t come with them? The one he had left back at the lair?

Leonardo seemed just as thrilled to be paired with Raph. Though in front of the team he had put up a wall of excitement, that wall ebbed away the moment he and Raph were off on their own with no one else around to witness them. With no other authority in sight, they could do whatever they wanted! And Leonardo knew exactly what he wanted.

Raph almost didn't stop in time when Leonardo stood abruptly in front of him, nearly colliding with the several-feet smaller slider. Neither spoke, Raph biting his lip and expecting the one who had stopped him to say something while Leonardo seemed content in drawing out the whole awkward encounter as long as possible.

“Ssssomething I can help you with?” Raph prompted finally.

“Let’s cut the shit.” Said Leonardo, and Raph winced at the swear that felt wrong coming from someone like Leonardo. “You don’t want to be here with me, that much is obvious.”

“It’s not—“

“Buh-buh-buh!” Leonardo waggled a finger, “Let me finish.”

Raph grumbled, wishing he could just reach out and snap that annoying, wagging finger, but he motioned for Leonardo to carry on.

“I don’t want to be here with you either.” Leonardo said, and then he motioned to the lack of others. “No one is here forcing us to be together. We have an hour before we have to meet back with the others, and we can do whatever we want with that hour. We don’t have to be together.”

“You’re saying…?” Raph didn't want to assume even when he was almost certain of what Leonardo met. Better safe than sorry, especially with a Leo.

“You go do your thing, I go do my thing, and neither of us talk about this again.”

Raph’s head tilted, jaw tightening, as he tried to make some sense of Leonardo’s still and confident expression. It certainly reminded him of his Leo in many ways, even if it looked strange on a face so much younger. This seemed like something his Leo might do too; there were a lot of ways they were similar, even if it was only now just coming to Raph’s attention. The way Leonardo stood, and the way he raised his eye bridge in a ‘what are you gonna do’ manner. The way he snorted a sharp breath out his nose when Raph took too long answering.

Raph decided not to risk any more delay. Hoping he wouldn’t regret this, Raph brought his hand to swipe at his jaw just to distract himself.

“Yeah. Right. Sounds good.”

“Sounds good.” Leonardo echoed with a nod, eyes still watching, always watching.

“But just uh. Just one thing first.” Raph said, raising a finger. “What do you have to do that’s so damned important?”

Leonardo didn't like that; it was written all over his face. “I could ask you the same question.”

Raph swore internally. This was a godsend— an opportunity to get away— and he really hoped he hadn’t just ruined his chances. This was a good thing, and who was he to question what Leonardo wanted to do when he wasn’t willing to tell the same? It wasn’t anything bad, just blowing off some steam! And only on people who deserved it! Just because Leo insisted they not get involved in petty robberies, that they avoid being seen, didn't mean Raph couldn’t help some poor bloke caught down in the wrong alley.

“Fine.” Raph made his decision. “I won’t ask if you won’t ask.”

“And I won’t.” Leonardo tossed his arms in the air, lowered his chin, and backed slowly until he was standing right on the edge of the building, “Meet back here in an hour, and don’t be late.”

Leonardo fell backward. Raph was expecting such antics, but when it happened he couldn’t help but rush to the edge of the building to look— to watch as Leonardo plummeted quickly toward the streets below, making no effort to stop or slow, almost as if he was reclining on the air. At the very last moment he swiped his odachi and was gone in a flash of blue.

Raph let himself breathe. He doubted he would ever get used to that. He was alone now, free to do whatever he wanted. And he knew exactly what he wanted.

~~~

These streets, these dark New York streets, were filled with just the type of scum Cassandra Jones hunted on the nightly. The type who’d rob a man and leave him with a knife in the gut. The type who’d rip a woman’s dress to ribbons while her screams of help went unheard, for who would help woman who screamed rape? No one would. But if they screamed fire? Well, help would be right on the way then. These were the types that would whine about their tires being slashed, and in that same breath slash the throat of another. Cruel. Thoughtlessly violent. At least when Cassandra had those violent events, hers were justified! Not just cruelty for cruelty sake.

These men she had been tracking deserved every ounce of fury they had coming. Cowardly people who came in the night, stole what was hers. Burned down the one good thing she’d had ever. When she was in the Foot Clan, she had grown used to not having anything of her own. Her room, her food, even her clothes were shared between all of the clan as a unit. No one had property of their own, and she had never even considered such a thing as private possession until she had gotten out. Until she had worked and toiled and slaved and bought a place of her own, a bakery— a business! Just for it to be burned to the ground because of who she was, and who her friends were. She couldn’t let that stand. She couldn’t let them get away with it, and she wouldn’t.

She found them.

They didn't see it coming. How could they? Cassandra’s outfit was the most unassuming black hoodie, skin-tight black leggings clinging tight to her form. Black gloves, black combat boots, black everything! Except for her mask. Her favorite, custom hockey mask. If one were to have nothing more than a quick glance at her, a figure moving in the nights shadows, they might assume the being was nothing more than a floating demon's face come to punish their sine or else drag them to the pits of inferno forever. Everything about the mask was Cassandra’s own: the piercing yellow paint, the red-streaking adornments like blood across the helm, and with two horns tipped red. There were red circles around the eye-holes too, and fangs painted on around the mouth, pulling her appearance into a permanent state of anger.

SLASH went her naginata, making contact with the first goon. Like a geyser came blood from the wound, and in that same moment it alerted the rest of the gang of Cassandra’s presence. She didn't care; stealth was hardly her specialty, and even if it was these guys had nothing on her. They may have grown up on the streets, but she owned the streets, and she was furious! Not even a bull rhino could stop her charge.

“HOLY FUCK!” Yelled the lead goon upon firing his gun. He missed; he was an awful shot.

Cassandra fell into a ninja run, arms stuck out behind her as she all but teleported to the lead goon, bringing the shaft of her naginata swinging for an abdomen shot. A sharp crack, and a gasp. Blood spilling from his mouth. He stumbled, and he fell back with nothing but the trash to cushion his fall. That face. Cassandra recognized that face from somewhere.

A knife slashed through the air and through Cassandra’s momentary stupor. Cassandra reached back, locking her wrist into the attacker's wrist. She gained leverage on him— who, after all, would expect someone so small to have such strength?— and she swung his blade-wielding arm right back around until it pierced through the soft flesh of his side. He screamed, and he fell aside clutching the wound. Another enemy stepped up to take his place.

Ninja stars, stored safely in the loose sleeves of Cassandra’s hoodie, flew out and assaulted the remaining men. Even if she wasn’t a ninja anymore, her old tricks would always come in handy, especially when beating bad-guy butt! More screams, more wounds, more blood. Except this time the men started to flee down the alley, trying to escape the wrath of the unseen demon.

“Oh no you don’t…”

Cassandra’s voice was a low growl as she pursued them. How could she let them walk away so easily when they stole everything from her? They weren’t that fast, not by her standards, and she was able to leave them with several slashes from her naginata for the road before she stopped at the end of the alleyway. They would need medical attention, perhaps go several grand in debt, for those wounds to be taken care of. She wanted more, but she knew her limits, and she knew there was no use creating more loose ends by killing the careless bastards.

There was one loose end she still had to tie up. The lead goon had been left behind, unable to stand, unable to run. He was still choking on his own blood, maybe from some internal injuries. Cassandra’s hatred waned at the sight of the pathetic dying man. She hadn’t intended so much injury just from one blow, and she was even debating calling an ambulance for him before…

She realized where she knew that face from, and it wasn’t from when he had burned down her bakery. She knew those eyes— those cold, dark eyes. The first time she had seen those eyes they had had an evil glint in them, evil that couldn’t be considered human. A face among the crowd, too proud to cover his identity like some as they hanged that poor child from the overpass and then paraded her body through the streets. She knew that face, and now she held no sympathy.

She lashed her naginata again, and again. She knew which parts of him she could slice and cut up without him dying because that would be too much of a mercy to him. His screams were nothing to her. His pleas of mercy, nothing. He was nothing. When the naginata wasn’t enough anymore, she resheathed it and just started to kick the absolute hell out of him.

“Hey.”

She didn't register the deep Brooklynn voice, and just kept kicking.

“HEY! Hey hey hey!”

Hands as wide as she was grabbed her around the waist and pulled her kicking and fighting away from the man that was now lying concerningly still.

“I think ya got him!”

All it took was a second for her to grab her blade and swing it out at whoever it was that had grabbed her; it took only half of that time for the massive wall of a mutant to step back. Another second, and Cassandra recognized the great green giant with a rush of glee.

“RAPH!”

She tossed herself at the mutant turtle, not for an attack but for a hug. Raph caught her quite easily in one arm, holding the woman securely to his chest and laughing as she tried in vain to wrap her arms around him.

“Hey— hey, easy girl!” Raph let the hug go on for a few seconds more before sitting Cassandra back down on the ground. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Raph had hardly recognized the woman when he had seen her from the vantage of the rooftops; in fact, the only reason he had realized it was her was when he saw the weapon. The hockey mask helped too, but it was mostly that naginata of hers. Looking at her standing there before him, she seemed like a completely different person than the one he remembered. She was still slender as far as humans went, but now it was more of a natural slender than the starved body she had before. A healthy layer of fat now covered her belly and her hips to protect the muscle beneath— her face was a little rounder too.

“You lookin’ good.” Raph said with a nod, “Still a little shortcake though.”

Cassandra, wanting to get a better look at Raph, decided to remove her mask. Raph’s eyes widened at the sight of the new mass of hair that Cassandra had grown, a mess of greasy black that wasn’t unlike a shaggy dog's coat, held back with a yellow bandana so it was just barely under control.

“I’m five feet of whoop ass and I’ll whoop yours, don’t test me.”

Raph threw his head back and rumbled a deep belly laugh. “Trust me, I won’t. I’ve been on the wrong end of a little lady’s wrath once or twice before. Nice hair, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Cassandra beamed, “It’s never been this long before! I think I like it.”

“Yeah, yeah, suits you nice.” Raph cleared his throat. He nodded toward the bloodied figure. “Did uh. That guy deserve the beating or?”

“He deserves more than that.” Cassandra spat on him; she wasn’t even mad about her bakery being burned down anymore. Well— she was still mad about it, but not in that moment. “The bastard had it coming.”

“Still.” Raph said softly, like a kind parent addressing a child, “You’d’ve killed him.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Cassandra said in a low tone. “I know better. I’ve done this before.”

Raph breathed through his nose and shook his head. He knew that look of hatred in Cassandra’s eyes— he had felt that look before, and had that same look directed at him. He cupped a hand across the length of Cassandra’s back and started to guide her away toward the fire escape. She listened reluctantly.

“Come on— let’s scram before the cops get here. You weren’t exactly being quiet you know.”

And up to the rooftop they went, several buildings down from the scene, but Cassandra still had that look. That look that Raph hated.

“What did those guys do to deserve that, CJ?”

“It’s personal…” Cassandra just barely muttered.

“Too personal to share?”

“Ask my turtles; they can explain it better. What are you doing here?”

“It’s personal.”

Cassandra smirked. “Too personal to share?”

Raph smiled despite himself and shook his head. “No, no it’s not.” He told her everything, and Cassandra got even more riled up.

“Seriously?! That fucked up man!” She was practically radiating chaotic energy, starting to swing her fists like a boxer, “Where are they? I’ll take em on! Right here, right now, no mercy! I wanna kick some Jurassic Ass!”

“Actually, triceratops’ are from the cretaceous.”

“Does that really matter?”

Raph pursed his lips. “No, I guess not. But… now that I told you my personal bizz, can you tell me yours? Maybe I can help.”

Cassandra looked at Raph. She considered her options, bit her lip, and decided on one.

“They burned down my bakery. It was also my house but that’s less important.”

“Cassandra…” Raph’s voice held nothing but sympathy. “Damn. Sorry to hear that. Do you have a place to stay or…?”

“April’s letting me crash at her crib which is suuuuuuuper dope! And I got a security deposit on the place so…”

“Well, I’m not excusing what they did, but is that really grounds for a murder?” He tried not to laugh— it just slipped out.

“That wasn’t my plan.” Cassandra smiled a tired smile, “I was just gonna beat ‘em up and make them pay reimbursement for my shop. Then I realized who he was.”

“Who is he?”

“A few months ago there was a live broadcast on ABC news. A bunch of guys wearing masks hung a mutant from an overpass and then dragged her body down the interstate. He was one of them.”

Raph’s breath caught. “Oh…”

“It was just a kid. The… guys were never caught until now.” She stared at listful at the flashes of red and blue in the distance, signaling that the man she had attacked was found. Rescued; a blessing that little kitten he slaughtered hadn’t been lucky enough to receive.

“I didn't know.” Raph said; he didn't even know mutants had been exposed here! Shouldn’t that have been important enough to mention. “What about the rest of them guys that got away?”

“I’ll find them.” Cassandra was confident.

“And… would they be gettin’ the same treatment as they boss?”

“I can’t know if they were involved. They might be like me. The Foot Clan did… a lot of things I wanted nothing to do with. If they’re the same as me it’s no use. But I am gonna rob em though.”

Raph laughed and pulled back his lips to show off his teeth. “Mind if I join ya?”

Cassandra blinked, and then smiled. “I would be honored.”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bay turtles

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haleigh-sloth · 3 years

Note

Hello! Your meta posts are wonderful and I was just wondering if you have written about how you think the redemption of Dabi, Toga, and Shigaraki will go down in terms of where they will end up. How will hero society reconcile with their crimes without locking them up and leaving them to rot (which seems to be antithetical to the point Horikoshi is trying to make). Do you think they will be rehabilitated into society or at a facility? Or something else?

Whhhaaat 🥺🥺🥺 I know for sure that I’ve rambled about what I think will happen and hope will happen here and there but idk if I’ve really dived into it. Idk if anybody’s ever asked so here I go!

So as far as society reconciling with their crimes without locking them up, that’s not really going to be that hard tbh.

Think about the way society is portrayed right now in the manga. Just look at the chapters between the end of the war arc and now. Society is only getting worse. It’s growing more chaotic, disorganized, and dangerous. And even worse, but very important to note, society is stooping low to a point where they are blindly discriminating against each other just because of how someone looks (sound familiar?). The way things are right now, they’re only going to get worse and worse until the final battle involving AFO gets here, and all of this can be put to rest. It’s as the vestiges said in chapter 310, society is going backwards. Everybody is using their quirks illegally and lots of people are out committing crimes, playing vigilante, and destroying the cities just by using their powers. So by the time the final battle gets here, do you really think they are going to have the capacity to really care about what happens to the LOV? Not only that, but the main LOV members are being set up to redeem themselves by helping defeat AFO, at which point I expect that final battle to have caused so much chaos and destruction in society that there is literally no point in worrying about what happens to the main 3 villains who literally helped save the world. I mean...their redemption is rooted in defeating the one true villain of the story--AFO. Little Tenko wanted to be a hero who saved people, and defeating AFO is satisfying that dream of his. That’s his, and Toya’s, and Himiko’s redemption.

After that last final battle, everybody should be more worried about finding their families, rebuilding their homes, finding new homes, etc., more so than worrying about what happens to Toya, Shigaraki, and Himiko who just helped save them all from imminent death at the hands of AFO. So that’s how I expect the story to address the whole “do we lock them up? do we not?” situation.

As for what I think will happen with each member, well, it’s really up in the air for ones like Spinner and Compress (assuming they make it out alive), but for the main 3 I kind of have an inkling of what I think might happen, but I can’t say for sure. This is ALL just speculation and predicting so please take it with a grain of salt lol.

For Toya, it’s actually pretty obvious. He has to go home. He has 10 years without his family to make up for, and so does Rei. Toya will heal best in an environment surrounded by unconditional love. He also has to get to know Shouto, seeing as how he never got to. As for whether or not E is included in that...well I can’t say what I expect yet. Either way though, I’ll be happy as long as Toya is home and he can finally have a real relationship with Shouto and catch up with his mother and other two siblings. He just needs to be safe and happy.

For Toga, I THINK because of her age being that of a high schooler still, she may end up at UA. Maybe. Also I should clarify, I don’t expect UA to be a regular high school by the end either. I don’t see how society can go back to having a prominent school that feeds into the quirk elitist system that the story is criticizing and actively dismantling. What we’re learning right now in the backwards aging hero society is that everybody should have the privilege and opportunity to train their quirks, not just a select privileged few who have “strong” or “cool” or “convenient” quirks. People not knowing how to use their own quirks is exactly why society is shit right now. So I think UA will be more of an all inclusive institution by the end, and Toga will find acceptance there around other kids her age. That’s the thing about her too, she yearns for friendship. She has it with the league yes, but you can tell by how she goes after Ochaco and Tsu that she needs that connection with other teenagers and girls her age. She is still a teenage girl after all, and the LOV is comprised of all guys way older than her lol. So that’s what I kind of expect for her.

Shigaraki is hard for me to get a handle on ending wise because ideally I’d like for All Might to survive and take on that mentor/parent role for him. Kurogiri kind of took that role for Shigaraki, but I’m absolutely positive he’s not going to make it past the final battle. I mean he’s already dead so. But there’s a very real chance All Might might not make it out either. I’d rather he did though. I’d rather Gran Tostito bite the dust. I feel like All Might may survive so he can take his second chance at taking care of his master’s legacy, her grandson. He missed the opportunity the first time and those consequences were...well you see it now lol. So I feel like it would make sense for him to take that second chance, but again I really don’t know. He’s kinda the perfect character to kill off? But taking All Might out of the equation, I don’t know to be honest. Shigaraki has no family waiting for him. Which I think is important to remember. Really right now all he has is Midoriya, who is still technically a stranger to him. I do think they’re going to form some sort of bond and life-long friendship, I just don’t know how that will look in terms of “the aftermath”. But I don’t think Shigaraki will be alone by any means. He has no family so he’s going to have to find one in the people around him. I expect that main cast of 7 to kind of stick together in the aftermath, so there’s the people who will surround him who care about him. But as far as like...where he’ll live, I have no idea. I have it in my head that Aizawa may take on that mentor role I mentioned earlier, if All Might doesn’t make it. Aizawa is the only pro hero set up to have a change of heart, he’s the only pro who currently criticizes the system in place, so he’s kind of in a perfect position to take Shig in as well. Plus, Aizawa already took in Eri (who is Shigaraki’s reflection). So that’s very possible imo. But as far as relationships and friendships go, Midoriya will be there for him and I think Bakugo will be too. They’ll be an unhinged chaotic trio of absolute madness. It’ll be great. They deserve it tbh. Also with Shigaraki, I highly highly doubt he’ll be going by that name anymore. His name is Tenko Shimura. He and his family went missing when he was 5 years old. He was kidnapped and held hostage for 15 years, and now he’s finally been found.

So basically I expect society to be in such dissarray that they don’t have time to worry about the league, especially since by the end the league will be an established ally, no longer an enemy.

Now I have heard the possibility of them all being in behavioral hospitals like what Rei was in. And I’m not like...against it, but I don’t love that idea either. Mostly because I don’t want BNHA to suddenly start sticking with the rules of reality. Why can’t they heal in the best environment for them? WIth people who love them? I would prefer for them to be completely free by the end. If they do get put in behavioral health hospitals then I would at least like to be shown them living their lives after their release. I don’t want it to end on the note of institutionalization. I want to see them be free.

So yeah, happy endings for everyone! If this isn’t what happens exactly then that’s fine. What matters most is that they’re all happy and get everything they need. Toya needs to be with his family, Toga needs to be accepted, and Tenko needs to heard, acknowledged, and cared for. I think all three of them will get that regardless of how it looks.

#jeez long post again sorry guys #bnha #bnha asks #bnha endgame #bnha speculation #bnha predictions #boku no hero academia #anonymous #bnha lov #bnha league of villains #shigaraki tomura #todoroki touya #toga himiko

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obsidianfr3sk · 3 years

Text

now

Summary: “Now— do you like it?” Simon asked (still making jazz hands).

Oh, no, he liked it. But Simon had made a tiny mistake. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. It was just that… if he had a coin for every time Simon had made that exact mistake, he would have two coins. Which wasn’t a lot of coins; but it was funny it happened twice.

And there it was. Again. The infamous latticework pie.

AO3

Hello, friends! Obsi here. I want to start this author note by saying this fic is a birthday gift for Rita (@the-wee-woo-rita), a fandom friend of mine that I hold dear to my heart since the day they started to constantly appear in my notes and hasn't stopped since <3 Forgive me if I spent the rest of my time covering the birthday kid with invisible virtual kisses:)

Aaaah, Rita:') Feliz cumpleaños, amigue✨ I hope you have an amazing day and that you're reading this while your family and friends are giving you tons of presents and kind words <3 I gotta confessed that I noticed you almost since you entered the fandom bc you were always on my notes, so every time I saw your icon, I was like "Oh, Wee Woo is here <3". oH AND WHEN YOU STARTED YOUR FIC DKJFHKJFKJDF I wanted to read it since you started posting it, and when I finally could, it left me 💖💖💖. Not only because it's a super fun story, (go read it if you haven't, people) but also because I can tell you're writing from the heart and you're as invested in Hugh and Simon's relationship as I am skjdhksd one time I even cried because I felt so proud of you for writing it lol

I guess that you already know what this fic is going to be about. When you told me this is your favorite scene of these pair of idiots and knew I had to write something for you about it sdkjfhjksdf it came out really fluffy and funny, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did <3

Never stop writing. You got this✨ Enjoy your gift!!

When Hugh first started dating Simon, he didn’t know if he wanted to marry him. If someone had asked him, he wouldn’t have known how to answer, and everyone would have thought he was a dick, when in reality, he just hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t sorted out his life yet.

Not like other people.

She had her life sorted out. At least most of it. Hugh certainly wouldn’t have been able to take care of a child when he was that age, but from the moment Adrian was born, his mom was there for him. She told him she was able to know if he was asking for food, if he needed another diaper, or if he just wanted to see her.

“But how do you know that if he cannot even talk?” he asked her.

“One just knows,” she answered. “If you ever become a dad, you’ll understand.”

And it sounded like a threat. Because at that age, Hugh also didn’t know if he wanted to have kids or not.

Simon, on the other hand, did. He was a mess in almost every single area of his life (like him), but he did know he wanted to have kids and to get married to someone. And it wasn’t like he was trying to scare Hugh the first months they started dating. Simon didn’t talk to him about his plans for the future until they had been together for more than a year. The only reason he knew about them was that he overheard a conversation Simon was having with… with Georgie, on one of the few occasions she was able to take a break from her baby.

At first, Hugh didn’t feel something particularly strong about what he heard. He actually kind of forgot about it for a couple of hours, until he went to sleep.

In his dream— or nightmare, which was a more accurate term, he was in the kitchen trying to bathe baby Kasumi in the sink, but she kept playing with the water and wetting his clothes, even when he tried to tell her to stop. Then, he heard Tamaya screeching his name and when he turned around to see what was happening, Evander (who was the only one whose age didn’t change, so he was a teenager bullying a four-year-old girl) was trying to pluck off the feathers of her wings, with all the intention of hurting her. Kasumi threw more water at him, so he grabbed her, all wet and everything, to try to follow Tamaya and Evander to the living room and stop them from fighting, but then, Georgie, who was at least 9 years old in the dream, pulled his hoodie, and told him:

“This is for you—” and pointed at a newborn baby she had just left on the floor.

Adrian.

Her newborn baby.

“No, that’s not mine, that’s yours,” he said. “That’s yours, Georgie, pick him up.”

She crossed her arms. “You pick him up.”

Then, Tamaya started screaming again, and Evander was freaking laughing, but he couldn’t leave Adrian on the floor, so he handed a crying Kasumi to Georgie, asking himself why the fuck Simon wasn’t around the house to help him with the kids.

When he bent over to pick the baby up, Simon decided it was a good time to appear, spank him and ask him: “Where are my cigarettes, goldilocks?”

And that was enough to wake him up.

It took him a couple of seconds to process what he was seeing. Georgie was sitting on the basement stairs, feeding Adrian and singing a song to him. Evander and Kasumi were sleeping under the same colorful blanket, while Tamaya was sitting on the side of the bed, gazing at her friend and moving her head side to side, as if she were singing too.

“Hey,” Georgie called him. “Are you ok, darling?”

He opened his mouth slightly and when he was about to tell her he had a nightmare, Simon turned around and grabbed him by the arm, still asleep.

It was cute enough for him to stop being mad at him for something he did in a dream. “Yes, I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

Maybe it had something to do with age, but the thing was that Hugh didn’t dream that often anymore. One time he told Simon that, despite that, he still had nightmares in which he couldn’t move his body but he was aware of his surroundings, just as if he were awake. Simon frowned and said that didn’t sound like a nightmare, but more like sleep paralysis. Hugh thought it sounded a little bit psychedelic and told him he didn’t believe in those things, to which Simon reacted as if he just confessed he was an Earth-flatter.

He couldn't quite understand why Simon acted as if he were some sort of dream expert. Simon told him it was because he was a dream expert, or at least he was more of an expert than Hugh was, since he got a lot more sleep than he did, and it was true. Hugh couldn’t remember the last night he slept without spending two hours staring at the dark and empty room, while he heard Simon’s body rubbing the blankets from time to time.

“You know, I don’t think that’s normal,” Simon told him when they were driving back home from the Headquarters. “I think you should see a therapist.”

Simon said that a lot, too. It wasn’t bad advice per se, but for some reason, it drove him crazy every time he said it, even if he didn’t show it (or at least he liked to believe he didn’t). He remembered that occasion, specifically, because he had had a particularly bad day at work when they had that conversation about sleep paralysis. Kasumi and Evander decided that was a wonderful day to act as if they were the main characters of their new show “Dumb and Dumber”, trying to convince him to get couches for their offices with a slide presentation and everything, and Tamaya was acting like a particularly angry pregnant woman that hated everything that moved, especially if that thing was Hugh. He hadn’t gone completely feral with Kasumi and Evander (even if they kind of deserved it) and just told them to stop trying to kill the last brain cell they shared, but even so, they reacted as if Hugh had done something super offensive and if he were the one who was wasting everyone’s time. He had been even kinder with Tamaya because, yeah, she was being irrational, but at the same time, she was pregnant, and being a dick to a pregnant woman wouldn’t have been very heroic of him. Still, Tamaya didn’t even try to get her hormones under control and was actually devastated when he brought her the wrong kind of gyro from the store. She even cried and took the rest of the day for herself, which was something she had the right to do, obviously.

But anger is a bitch and one of those emotions that takes the best of you, so a little voice inside his head that took control of his consciousness every time he got mad at someone, was telling him that he should ask Simon if his therapist had told him that it wasn’t normal to wake up in the middle of the night to see if your kid was still breathing.

Because it didn’t sound normal to him.

He didn’t do it though. Maybe he was too tired.

Being angry took a lof a lot of energy.

He was still curious about whether Simon had ever told his therapist about that or if he had normalized it so much, that he didn’t think it was important to mention it. He had been doing that since the first night he met him when they were still a pair of kids. The first night they slept together, in Simon's basement, he woke him up in the middle of the night and sighed with relief.

“Good, you’re alive,” he mumbled. And then went back to sleep, as nothing happened.

Hugh thought it was quirky and funny. Now he believed it may be a real psychological problem.

His suspicion was confirmed that same night after having that conversation when he woke up at 3AM to go get a glass of water and realized that Simon had left the bed. He assumed he was at Adrian’s room, so he didn’t think too much about it and went downstairs, without bothering to turn the lights on. After all, he couldn’t die if he tripped with his own feet because his powers would protect him (and if he did, it would be the stupidest of deaths and he deserved it.)

He took a glass cup (because plastic cups were only for kids), filled it with water, and when he turned around to go back to his room, Simon flickered, and he could see him right in front of him, with his dagger in hand, as if he were about to stab him.

“SIMON, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Simon flickered again and let go of his dagger at the same time he started crying and hugged him while mumbling he thought he was a robber that wanted to “kill everyone in the house and then himself.”

Hugh could only hug him back.

Simon didn’t try to stab him again, but he still had a weird sleep schedule. Hugh, on the other hand, was sleeping a lot better now that his psychiatrist had shown him this amazing invention called citalopram.

A week before their tenth anniversary, he was about to fall asleep when Simon entered the room, got under the covers, and hugged him from behind, pressing his body against his.

“Si, it’s 2AM.”

“How do you want to celebrate our anniversary?”

He asked that question with the same tone he used when he asked Max and Adrian what they wanted to do during their birthdays. Or when he asked Nova if she wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving with them, or when he tried to convince Kasumi and Tamaya to do something fun for Christmas that year.

And Hugh answered him the same thing the others did:

“I don’t know.”

He knew being ten years married to the same person was something that should be celebrated. And he also knew Simon didn’t mean any harm by asking those things, even if they may have seemed a little bit oblivious to the fact that life as they knew it had almost ended during the supernova. Actually, he believed he asked them that because he was completely aware of what had happened and, for instance, he was trying to fix all the things the burning stardust had destroyed, covering the ears of the people he loved, hugging them, and telling them that things couldn’t be that bad if they still could have a little piece of cake to celebrate even the smallest of events.

That gave him an idea.

“I think I just want to eat cake with you,” he mumbled.

“Cake?”

“I like cake. Except when it’s wet.”

Simon snorted. “Do you remember when Oscar invited Adrian to his birthday party and he gave him a pound of cake for him to share it with us?” he asked.

Hugh remembered that. “I do.”

“And do you remember you hated it?”

“It was more milk than cake.”

“Pastel de tres leches,” Simon said, with almost no American accent.

In other circumstances, he would’ve found that voice really attractive, but now the memory of that stupid cake was too much for him. “You know, I think there is where the fucking problem begins,” he told him. “What’s the need of adding three leches? One leche is more than enough.”

Simon tried to contain his laugh and failed. “Why do you pronounce leche like that?”

“It’s not natural, Simon,” Hugh insisted. “Cake is cake. And cake is supposed to be dry.”

“Well, I loved it.”

“You love everything. Even those who are unlovable.”

“Oh, sweetie. You’re not unlovable.”

“I know. I’m talking about the fucking cake.”

Simon stayed silent and Hugh laughed to let him know it was okay.

“So you want to keep it simple this year?” Simon asked him.

“I think that would be the most… appropriate thing to do.”

“All right then—” he pretended to use his finger to write on his back “—No tres leches cake… And keep it simple. Something else, your Majesty?”

“No, I think that’s all.”

“What about gifts?”

“I’m a simple man. I like blue, I like silver things that look like chrome, and I like myself. Go crazy.”

Simon gasped. “Or I could bake something for you,” he said. “I could make a little dinner for us… with your favorite cake.”

He couldn’t tell if Simon was being serious, but he hoped he did because— that actually sounded really nice. “What about the kids though?”

“Pssh, let’s just put them to bed early,” Simon answered. “Max’s bedtime is 9:30 anyways.”

“Are you—”

“Let me do something nice for you,” he interrupted him. “Please.”

Hugh sighed

“I’m being serious. I’m going to make your favorite cake,” Simon assured him, holding him closer to him.

And then it hit him. “Do you know—”

“Of course I know your favorite cake, love,” he giggled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Hugh wanted to keep talking to him, but he started to notice his eyes were getting tired and that he wasn’t going to be able to keep them open a lot longer.

Simon kissed his shoulder. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“Yeah. But turn around,” he added. “I want to be the big spoon.”

The next morning, while Simon was looking for his mask before heading to work, Hugh realized he never told him what he wanted for their anniversary, so he took that moment to ask him. Simon just said that he would love anything Hugh got for him, which was honestly the worst answer ever because Hugh was the worst person when it came to guessing that sort of stuff, and needed to know specifically what they wanted so he wouldn’t end up giving them a shitty gift.

But then, he realized that it was a gift for their tenth anniversary. And when he gazed at Simon again, he noticed he was already looking at him through the small mirror they had hanging on their closet door, with a small smile on his face, letting him know that he had noticed the moment Hugh remembered what they did each year during their anniversary.

There was a tradition Simon heard about when they were planning their wedding, that it was all about giving a gift made of certain material according to the marital year. He didn’t tell him about it until a year later when they were talking about what they were going to do to celebrate that year, and for some reason, they ended up talking about when they met.

Unfortunately, Hugh could no longer remember when was the first time he saw Simon. It was like one day, he just walked into his life, laid down on a twin-size mattress, and just started to exist there without asking for permission because he didn’t know where he was yet. And Hugh was staring at the kid with brown skin, brown hair, and brown eyes, while hiding behind a big closet he kept there, thinking about how to tell him “Hello. What’s your name? I’d really like to know about you.”

Too bad he always stopped at “Hello”. Too bad it all happened inside his head.

When he was a kid, not a lot of people talked about prodigies in a positive light, so he grew up thinking that his powers were something he needed to keep a secret for everyone and that he had to blend in with the other kids in order to survive, and there was no adult in his life that told him otherwise. But during the Age of Anarchy, the whole Council began to know more prodigies from all over the world, who had different beliefs about what it meant to be a prodigy. During patrol, Simon told him about this old European lady he talked to, who was also a prodigy, and assured him she would be able to recognize every single one of them even without their superhero costumes. When Hugh said that sounded a little bit dangerous, Simon laughed it off and added that what she meant to say was that all prodigies were made of the same stardust and that it was always trying to find a way back to the space where it belonged, that was the reason why many prodigies were drawn to each other even if they just crossed paths by mere chance.

If it was true, then it explained why Hugh could tell Simon was a prodigy from the first moment he looked him in the eye. And it explained why he wanted to be his friend so much, even before knowing that piece of information.

Simon did remember when was the first time he saw Hugh. Or at least one of the first times.

“You were sitting on the ground and staring at a bug. like a beetle or something...” he said. They were walking through the neighborhood, holding hands, and Adrian was in front of them, trying to get the hang of his new skate shoes with wheels. He had asked his dads to give him his space because he had seen another kid at Headquarters using them too and he was sure he could teach himself how to use them. “ And you were really concentrated, completely quiet when an adult came and killed it.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Like— on purpose?”

“I don’t know, they were just walking,” Simon shrugged. “But you didn’t even say anything, just… stayed there. And a raccoon walked in front of you, and you decided to follow it to the trash can he lived in, and when you tried to touch it, he and his whole extended family threw themselves at you.”

Hugh probably looked worried or something, because Simon tilted his head and asked him: “You remember that, do you?”

And he didn’t. “It sounds like me,” he said, “I liked beetles when I was a kid. Not sure about the raccoon attack though because I’ve always hated raccoons and getting too close to trash cans.”

“And have you ever stopped to think about why you hate that so much?”

“Because trash cans are a focus of infection. Same as raccoons. I would never follow one of those rats with masks.”

“Hugh, when you were a kid, I saw you eating cereal out of a bucket, I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re better than the rest of us for not following raccoons— which you did.”

“I did not.”

“And you know what I thought?” Simon asked as if he hadn’t heard Hugh. “I thought—”

“You thought I was a poor kid who needed your help.”

“No, I thought you were the weirdest fucking kid I had ever met. And I walked away.”

Then he winked at him, letting him know he was joking. But Hugh felt really offended on behalf of his younger self anyways. “And why do you remember that but I don’t?”

“I was invisible. And I wanted to see what you were up to.”

Then, Adrian fell to the ground and screamed “DADDY!”. Neither of them was really sure of who he was talking to, so they just helped him get on his feet again and told him he should be more careful, ending their conversation there.

That year, he gave Simon a card he bought at the supermarket that he decorated with raccoon stickers he found on Adrian’s backpack, and he even used all his artistic abilities to draw a speech bubble that said “I love you”. Simon also gave him a card, but instead, it was decorated with hearts and flowers and looked a lot more like what a card for an occasion like that was supposed to look like. They gave each other cards because the first-anniversary gift, according to tradition, was something made of paper. He could tell what Simon gave him every single year, but some of the honorable mentions were the leather jacket he never used because Kasumi told him that buying things made of leather was unethical and “not green”, a wooden figurine of the two of them he found at a local flea market, and a pottery coffee mug he did himself when he and Tamaya took pottery classes, which Evander broke one day he went to the house.

So, yes, Simon always gave him nice things. And he kept every single one of them. The card was between the album photos and newspaper cutouts. The leather jacket remained in the closet not to be seen ever again. The wood figurine was in the living room (and will stay there even after he was dead because if Adrian ever dared to take it somewhere else, like he had tried to do before, he was going to haunt him until he put it back where it belonged), and eventually, Evander glued together the pottery coffee mug and gave it back to him, probably trying to make clear he was really sorry about breaking it, without really saying it out loud.

It was a nice tradition. Especially because it was almost impossible to fuck up and Hugh could come up with nice gifts for Simon too.

And now it wasn’t going to be the exception.

That year’s traditional theme was aluminum. At first, he was a little bit confused because the only aluminum he knew about was the aluminum foil they had in the kitchen until he spoke with Tamaya over the phone, and she told him there were a lot more things that were made of aluminum other than foil. She had stayed at her house ever since what had happened in the Arena. Simon told him and Kasumi it would be nice if they took turns to call her one time a day to check on her, and that day, it was Hugh’s turn.

She wasn’t mad at him, which meant she was having a less shitty day than other times it had been his turn to call her. She even gave him the phone number of a place where he could buy something for Simon, that was not so far away from Headquarters. Before hanging up, she reminded him to make sure Kasumi was eating during lunch breaks and made him promise he was going to double-check, just because that's what she would do if she were there. After doing what Tamaya asked him to do (Kasumi started to eat her salad as soon as he walked into the room, and he stayed there until she finished the whole plate), he called the store and knew exactly what he wanted to ask for.

It had been a little difficult to pick it up from the store because Simon was always with him, but the anniversary was on Sunday, so he said that someone had called him to go to Headquarters and headed out before anyone could ask for more explanations. He arrived at the store a few minutes before they closed and the owner told him he wasn’t sure if he was going to arrive on time. Then, he proceeded to show him the final product, and Hugh thought it looked exactly as what he had in mind. The daughter of the owner put the gift inside a box and decorated it with purple wrapping paper and a silver bow, and it was ready to go.

When he arrived at the house, Simon was already preparing dinner and the kids were eating ramen in the living room while watching a movie. He put the gift on the coffee table and told them it was time to get ready for bed.

Simon and Hugh had always been good at assigning each of them chores to do around the house. When Max was living in his quarantine area, Hugh stayed with him after Simon and Adrian went home. He bathed him, helped him brush his teeth, and then put him to bed. Meanwhile, Simon cooked something for Adrian, helped him with his homework, played with him for a while, and when Hugh went home, he helped him with his night routine the same way he had helped Max, while Simon prepared tomorrow’s lunches.

Adrian was a pretty calm kid during bath time (at least most of the time). He would dare to say he liked it, probably a little too much because he didn’t bathe himself until he was almost ten years old. Max, on the other hand, was a completely different story. It was a lot easier to control him when he was a baby, but the older he got, the more difficult it became to get him inside the tub. He tried to distract him with other things, made a lot of excuses, and even hid under the bed so his dad couldn’t see him. Simon thought it wasn’t a normal reaction and that they needed to make sure Max was alright, but Hugh didn’t believe Max’s behavior was weird because when he was a kid he threw even bigger tantrums each time he was told it was bath time. He screamed while he had shampoo on his hair, bawled while he was putting on his pajamas, and sobbed for at least ten minutes after he was tucked into bed. At the ripe age of four years old, he went as far as running down the street completely naked because he was already in the tub, waiting for his aunt to find a clean towel between all the mess they had around the house when he decided that wasn’t going to work out and just walked outside the house, without wearing any clothes. A minute later, he heard his aunt screaming “HUGH, YOU LITTLE BITCH—” and knew he was in danger, so he began to run as fast as he could until he tripped and he was taken back to the bathroom (while he screamed and kicked, like the demon child he was.)

“Well, I guess it makes sense why you acted like that,” Simon answered, “but I want to make sure everything is fine with Max. For my own comfort.”

Simon talked with Max the next day, and apparently, he came to the conclusion he was just someone who thought that bathing was a waste of time, like Hugh did when he was his age. His kid just showed it in a less… explosive manner. Because yeah, Max had never thrown a tantrum because of that. Not at least until the other night, when Simon told him to go take a shower after he spent the whole day outside with Nova and got his clothes all dirty. For some reason, Max got super pissed at the idea of his own father giving him a reasonable order, and after going to the bathroom and taking off his clothes, he started to yell that he was already clean and that he didn’t need to take a shower. Hugh and Adrian were in the living room talking about some mundane topic when they saw a naked and almost maniac Max running around the house, and a screaming and desperate Simon with a white towel in his hands, trying to catch him before he headed out of the house and the neighbors saw him.

Simon almost had a panic attack after that, when Adrian finally was the one to catch Max and convince him to go take a shower, because in his own words, “you smell like a dead dog, my friend” (Adrian knew what he was dealing with because he had done the same thing when he was a kid). And Hugh didn’t want Simon to go through the same experience again, especially that night.

“I was a well-behaved kid,” Simon told him, while they cuddled under the covers. “I almost never cried. And I most certainly never complained about bath time.”

“Everyone has a childhood story that involves running around completely naked because you didn’t want to get on the tub.”

“I don’t… think so.” Hugh scoffed in response. “Actually, I was so well-behaved, one time my mom closed the car door and smashed my fingers, but I didn’t even complain about it—”

“You should have complained about it,” Hugh said.

Simon didn’t hear him. “I think maybe Max is just going through a phase.”

“Or maybe our son is a normal kid and you are the Antichrist for not crying when your mother smashed your fingers.”

And he whispered: “Well— maybe, I guess.”

Luckily, Max was feeling nice and he followed the night routine without causing any more problems, and just asked Adrian to read him a bedtime story. Forty minutes later, Adrian went back downstairs and told them he was going to sleep too (but Hugh knew he was going to stay up late talking with his team.)

Simon took a few minutes after that to finish the dinner because the dessert was still in the oven. Hugh waited for him, sitting on the couch, eating the leftovers of Adrian’s ramen and watching whatever thing was on TV, when suddenly had the feeling someone was staring at him. He turned around and even though he didn’t saw anyone, he still said:

“Simon, I know you’re there.”

And he got no answer.

Then, when he decided to let it go and continue watching TV, Simon was sitting on the coffee table, with the gift box on his lap.

“Can you stop doing that?” Hugh asked him.

“No, it’s part of my charm—” Simon shook the box a little, like a kid would do on Christmas morning “—Is this my gift?”

“No. I bought it for my other husband. But you can open it, I guess.”

Simon shrugged and opened it. He gasped and covered his mouth with his hand, but he still could tell he was smiling. “Love—”

“You like them?”

Hugh had bought a couple of aluminum wine cups, decorated with a blue and purple stripe on the top. He extended his hand to turn on the lamp next to him and then patted the space next to him. “You wanna see something really cool?” he asked him.

Simon sat down next to him, holding one of the cups. Then Hugh grabbed him gently by the wrists and put the cup under the light, allowing both of them to see the hidden message written on the aluminum.

He couldn’t exactly read it because he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but Simon could.

“I’ll forever choose you,” he read. “It’s what—”

“It’s what I said during my vows,” Hugh answered, “and I still mean it.”

Simon leaned against him and Hugh took it as a chance to kiss him on the corner of his lips. “I��m going to kill your other husband,” Simon whispered.

“I don’t think you got it— but actually you’re the other husband.”

“I’m allowing you to make those jokes because I’m too happy to pretend I’m mad at you for saying them, okay? Just wanted to make that clear, so you don’t go around trying to push your luck.” He continued looking at the cup and putting it under the light to read its message again and again. “Can we use these cups? You know— are they made for drinking or are they just decorative?”

“I guess we can,” Hugh answered. “I don’t see why not. Cups are made for drinking.”

“Then it’s a good thing I brought us wine—” he got up with difficulty and grabbed the other cup from inside the box “—Are you hungry?”

He really wasn’t. Adrian’s leftovers were enough for him. But he still had a little space for more, so he nodded and took Simon’s hand before he got on his tiptoes and put his hands over his eyes. “Follow my lead.”

Even after arriving at the kitchen, Simon asked him to keep his eyes closed. He obeyed, and a couple of seconds later, he finally gave him the sign to open them, appearing behind the kitchen bar and waving his empty hands with a silly smile on his face.

Hugh covered his whole face with his hand to hide the fact that he was laughing.

“Now— do you like it?” Simon asked (still making jazz hands).

Oh, no, he liked it.

But even if he did, he could hear his own voice saying inside his head to make sure to sugarcoat whatever he had to say about one small detail that, unfortunately, was the first thing he noticed because he was that mean.

It was an amazing dinner. The main dish was chicken alfredo, and there was a small basket with bread from the supermarket they went every week to buy groceries (the same one Hugh didn’t go to anymore because last time he had almost hate-crimed a cashier because… reasons, maybe). He had lighted up some candles they kept around the house in case the power went out during the night and there was a white tablecloth covering part of the kitchen bar. Simon also took the time to look through the garage for the chinaware they only used for very special occasions and that Hugh insisted on hiding it in the garage since he didn’t trust his kids and believed they would break it at the first chance they got. And he didn't lie when he said he had bought a bottle of wine. Actually, he knew it was an expensive wine because it was the same brand as the one they drank during their wedding. It must have been an absolute hell trying to find it, considering that ten years had gone by since then.

But Simon had made a tiny mistake.

And it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. It was just that… if he had a coin for every time Simon had made that exact mistake, he would have two coins.

Which wasn’t a lot of coins; but it was funny it happened twice.

During the Gala, there had been a silent auction to replace some of the stolen drugs. Hugh was going crazy, trying to make sure everything was going according to plan, but Simon insisted that, as members of the Council, they needed to support the fundraising.

At first, Hugh didn’t notice what Simon had done. He had a lot of things going through his mind, like what if someone put a bomb on the ceiling and blew the whole building, if Adrian had drawn a callalily for every single centerpiece, or if Max had asked him to buy him more markers and construction paper since last week or last month. He also was trying to ignore how uncomfortable the suit he was wearing felt, which felt kind of tight when he raised his arms a little bit. Plus, the lights were too bright, the music was too freaking loud for a formal Gala, and for some reason, he was sure he could hear every single conversation that was going on there, at the same time he didn’t understand a single word coming out of those people’s mouths.

But suddenly…

Suddenly Simon grabbed him by the arm and said:

“I got this for you.”

“Huh?”

“I got this for you—” and he pointed at something on the table.

For the split of a second, he thought that Simon was referring to the chocolate cake that was right in the middle of everything, that was decorated with small pearls of white chocolate and a cherry on top. Which would have been a really kind and romantic gesture because chocolate cake would always have a special place in his heart.

But then, he noticed that actually, he was talking about the latticework pie that was right next to it, inside a little transparent box with a golden ribbon around it.

It looked nice; but the chocolate cake looked a lot better from his point of view.

“Simon—”

“Yes, I know technically I haven’t gotten it yet,” Simon said while jotting down his bidding number on a sheet of paper, “but I’m gonna win this and we’re gonna eat pie, like the winners we are.”

“Simon—”

“Do you wanna be a winner or not?”

“Simon—”

Simon finally looked at him, still holding the pen he had used to write down the bidding number.

Hugh had reacted a little bit too late.

So he just sighed, rested his chin on Simon’s head for a couple of seconds, and then asked him if also thought the lights were too bright (“No, but you can talk to someone and see if there’s something they can do about it. Just don’t go all Captain Chromium on them.” “That’s not a phrase other people use.” “Kasumi does.”)

Now, the Gala wasn’t a memory he liked to replay inside his head constantly because while they were there, their kids were risking their lives fighting against people they shouldn’t even be worried about. He felt guilty when he remembered that he was dancing with Simon in a small corner of the room, where they were sure no one could see them (not because they were embarrassed or scared but because Simon didn’t like to be surrounded by a lot of people, and honestly, Hugh wasn’t in the mood for dealing with that either). He was starting to think “Hey, maybe I’m having fun” and Simon was this close to kissing him, but one second after that, they were notified about what had happened to Max and had to rush to the hospital.

It had been one of the worst nights of his life. The last time he thought about it, was while reading Max a book they had just bought for him (“Tough Guys (Have Feelings Too)”). Max mentioned something about Adrian taking him to eat pie that afternoon and “going all Captain Chromium” on him for something he didn’t understand but sounded like normal sibling stuff, and suddenly Hugh vividly remembered the latticework pie Simon had put a bid on.

They never got to eat it.

Which was good because he knew that if he had gotten to eat some, knowing there had been a chocolate cake right next to it that they could have gotten instead of that freaking pie, his night would have been even worse.

Not like your kid almost dying was bad enough though.

“Keep reading the book, Hugh,” Max told him, pretending to be disappointed after he told him that story about the Gala. “Let’s keep the trauma talk for Therapy Thursday.”

(That was how Simon called Thursdays now. It was the day the four of them went to family therapy. Everyone thought it was a stupid way to call it, even Hugh, but he always told his kids it was an incredible way to motivate them, that Simon was trying his best, and that next time he heard them make fun about “Therapy Thursdays”, calling it “$200 Nap Thursdays”, he was going to tell the fucking shrink and they were going to go to family therapy two times a week.)

And there it was.

Again.

The infamous latticework pie.

But when he saw it, he didn’t feel anything else but the impulse to laugh out loud.

“I like it a lot,” he answered.

“You’re putting on the sugar jacket!” Simon exclaimed.

“No, I’m not!” Hugh told him, still laughing.

“No, I can see it!” Simon insisted. “You’re doing it, you always laugh when you do it!”

“What are you talking about?” He cleared his throat. “I’m way too good at sugarcoating, no one notices when—”

“I’m going to keep calling it sugar jacket,” Simon interrupted him, crossing his arms and staring at him with narrowing eyes. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

“And I’m going to keep making fun of you for it. Imagine me putting on a sugar jacket, Simon. It would have to be a huge jacket. The house would be infested with ants.”

But Simon wasn’t interested in the logistics of keeping a sugar jacket inside the house. “It’s like what you did last week. Oh, yeah, Simon, that’s so good—” He scoffed “—I know you hated that souffle because I hated it too.”

“But I liked that souffle! It was pretty good, I don’t know why you hated it.”

“The more you insist on that, the less I’m going to believe you.”

Hugh sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools and hid his face with his hands until he stopped laughing. When he finally did, he saw Simon smiling, even if he was trying to hide it.

“Si—” Simon raised his eyebrows as if he were saying “Hey” with them “—Can I get some wine?”

He thought about it for a second.

“Just because I love you—” and he began to pour it into one of their wine cups. Then, he walked towards Hugh, and with one hand, he took his wine cup, and with the other, he pulled Simon closer to him.

“And I love this,” he whispered. “I loved what you did for me, it’s just what I asked for.”

Simon’s smile got even wider. “I know I said we were gonna have cake but— I know you like pie a little bit more.”

Hugh took a sip of wine.

“Because… you do, don’t you?”

So he left the wine cup on the kitchen bar, grabbed Simon by the waist— and he told him the truth.

“I do now.”

Before Simon could ask him what he meant with that extra “now”, he leaned over and kissed him.

Now it was not the time to talk about that.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #the warden and the captain are sitting in a tree #sorry but i had to complain about tres leches cake #i reflect all my hate for that thing in my problematic son lol #plus the chicken alfredo is a reference to royal jewels #and there's also a hcttr reference kjsdfhksdfj #and the story of the naked kid running down the street... yeah parcially based on real events <3 #one time i saw one of my neighboor's kid playing outside without any clothes on #it was so weird i had to ask my mom if she saw it too #and she told me a lot of kids do that so JSHDKJSJK #well now im going to stop talking-#tags are supposed to be used for useful things #dUDE I HAD TO LOOK FOR THE ENGLISH VERSION OF ARCHENEMIES BC A LOT OF SMALL DETAILS GOT LOST IN THE SPANISH VERSION #and i wanted to be as acurrate as posible x'd #ok im going to go now x'd #obsi's writs

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