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oreomonsterhunter · 3 years

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“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 3988

Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line

Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)

Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date

A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!

You were nervous. Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes. You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.

Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again. All Johnny had told you was to dress up. He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details. You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium. Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown. Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one. So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice. Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.

You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach. Your first date, oh my gosh. How were you supposed to date Johnny? You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week? Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.

Then you groaned at your sudden realization. Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny. You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning. So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?” Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order. You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.

You were sweating, oh gosh. Did you need to reapply deodorant? You froze, staring at nothing. Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”

You sagged in relief. Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny. And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.

“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.

You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you. Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man? You haven’t told me anything.”

“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”

Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway. “No wonder you didn’t share much detail. I should’ve known.”

Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car. He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character. Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze. He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in. “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”

A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”

* * * * *

Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner. A fancy restaurant. You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.

Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”

A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes. “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.

“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.

“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence. You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics. The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying. Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.

You frowned, reaching for your water. But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror. You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.

After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward. “Do we even have a waiter?”

Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know?”

“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”

Johnny blinked at you. “Wait, are you ready to order?”

“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”

“No one charges for water,” he chortled.

“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.

Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table. “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.

“Wait, really?”

“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water. You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.

“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves. Pouting, you turned back to Johnny. “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”

“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order. “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”

“Any Icelandic sparkling water?” Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.

The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke. “Can I interest you in a bottle of red? You seem like a red wine woman.”

You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you. “I’ll have to card you, miss.”

Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet. Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?” But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.

“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.

“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.

“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list. “What can I get you?”

You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table. Curious. “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.

“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list. You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace. You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire. Time to test your theory. You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process. The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.

“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.

“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”

“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.

You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny. “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.

Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again. “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away. “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly! He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”

Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”

“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.

Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me. He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”

Johnny sent you an indecipherable look. You wondered if your teasing had worked. But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.

You shrugged, sitting back in your chair. You changed the subject, giving the man a break. “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner. I feel bad.”

“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.

“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.” You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success. Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist. And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass. Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation. You really didn’t need to know what that looked like. Had his hands always been that large? You shifted in your seat.

Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”

I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap. You’d never seen him in a suit before. Or at least, not in person.

Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? Your cheeks burned. “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished. “We could get burgers, or something.”

Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours. He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Oh no, he definitely heard you.

“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low. “You really are beautiful, not just tonight. Every night.”

You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that. Like you were the main course. “Johnny, I—”

“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned. You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job. But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?

“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.

“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.

You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely. Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder. “Might I recommend the cheese board? It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”

“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said. His smile was sharper than before. You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter. Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night. It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were. You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute. You’d just never let yourself think about it too much. Best friend mental boundaries and all that.

Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this. You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.

Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.

“You realize they sell food here, right? You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically. You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream. Oh gosh, did you drool? You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.

Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”

Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way. When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table. He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”

You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore. You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly. Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.

A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down. “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology. “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”

Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt. “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny. Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.

“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”

You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue. While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again. You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle. You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time. The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.

“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before. Your smile only grew.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in. “Can we leave? I can’t even kiss you here.”

“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth. He nearly upended the table, making you snort. “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.

You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him. “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “We didn’t pay yet.”

He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back. Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer. You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!” You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.

Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours. He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car. I’ll grab the wine.”

You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower. Your cheeks burned hotter. But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.

* * * * *

You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood. You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint. You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.

After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief. You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in. One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.

“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter. And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.

“Are you crazy? You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.

“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.

Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact. You could practically feel his smug little grin. “Hands off the merchandise.”

“How is that fair? You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull,” you said. “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”

Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”

You grinned in victory. “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information. Now put me down, you caveman.”

Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down. You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly. “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.

You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off. Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.

“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork. Then he turned, crouching down slightly. “Alright, princess, hop on.”

You beamed at him, not that he could see it. It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself. You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. “You’re the bestest.” You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm. “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.

But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say. Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight? You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different. What were you supposed to do?

“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall. “Where’s my tip?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Your tip?” you repeated.

“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”

You cocked a hip, smirking slightly. “Any preferred payment methods?”

Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it. “I take cash or card,” he informed you.

“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door. “I seem to have lost my wallet.”

He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time. “Apps?”

You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”

He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement. Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up. Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest. His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.

“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his. Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.

Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips. You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back. What was the worst that could happen?

You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him. He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his. You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing. And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss. He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him. Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.

Johnny pulled away, but not for long. You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear. He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently. And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered. Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward. Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.

Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him. All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly. You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck. You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.

While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward. Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath. Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours. You grinned savagely into the kiss. You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours. “Woah, woah,” he gasped. “Slow down, there.”

You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”

Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room. Er, hallway. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him. “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?” You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.

He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb. But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off. “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.

Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man. You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin. “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.

“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”

You giggled, leaning back in his arms. “Am I so scary?”

Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze. “I just don’t want to mess anything up. Not with you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him. “I trust you too much.”

“Oh yeah? You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.

You tilted your head, thinking back. “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed. “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”

Johnny blinked, taken aback. “Even then?”

“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him. “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”

“What was it?”

Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true. You said it, too.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

#johnny fluff #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #johnny fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh fanfic #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 fic

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ashiemochi · 3 years

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aphrotitty - xxv (ii)

✠ Aphrotitty ↳ Don’t do anything stupid ↳↳ does something stupid

~~ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ~~ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes ~~ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

prev -> next

“Okay, do you want McDonalds or barbecue?”

“What kind of barbecue?”

“The normal ones?”

“The restaurant doesn’t have a name?”

“Oh, it’s Lazy Dog Restaurant and Bar.”

Leon hummed as So Ah stood on the opposite side of the island, phone in one hand and two menus in another hand. There was a third one but that place only sold desserts and sweets – the same one that delivered the cakes to her place during that one dinner night.

Her phone vibrated and she looked at the caller ID, seeing Minji.

“You can decide and order for us. My sister’s calling.” She gave him the two menus, answering the call and pressing the phone to her ear.

“Us... I like the sound of that...” Leon murmured under his breath as he scanned both menus, hoping whatever his stomach wanted would pick something out.

But she heard him – her face flushed before redirecting her attention to her eldest sister.

“Hi, how’d the photoshoot go?” So Ah asked, sitting on one of the chairs opposite of Leon who was eyeing at the McDonalds one, checking out the new deals they were promoting.

“It went surprisingly well! I actually had fun with this one considering the first photoshoots of any new collection are usually exhausting, but,” Minji stretched for suspension and So Ah could imagine a wide grin on her sister’s face, “I got given extra sets!”

“Sets?” So Ah repeated.

“Yes! They had extra lingerie sets left so each model, including me, got them as a gift!”

“Oh, that’s great! You sure do need more of those in your closet.” So Ah said sarcastically, causing Leon to peer up at her and he lifted up the McDonalds’ menu with a questioning look by raising his eyebrows. She looked at it, giving it a quick once over then gave him a thumbs up.

“My husband loves them, so why not? Besides, sticking to one look can get boring and overused.” Minji snickered, causing So Ah to cringe inwardly.

“Wouldn’t know, I barely own one –“

“What do you want?” Leon interrupted her, now holding his phone in one hand and his other holding the menu up, eyes still on the meals.

“What are you getting?” So Ah asked, hearing Minji go silent.

“A Big Mac,” Leon replied and looked up at her, still facing the menu. Her eyes went down, thinking about it.

“Get me one too.” She opened her mouth to talk to her sister but he spoke again, catching her attention.

“Meat or Chicken?” The corner of his lips twitched a bit, finding the slight irritation of hers being a little too easy to tease.

“Meat,” So Ah answered, giving him a ‘Shush it’ look before returning to her phone, eyes lingering on him a bit.

“Who are you talking to?” Minji asked and So Ah immediately noticed how it was quiet now on the other side of the call.

“Leon. We’re ordering food. Where are you?” So Ah furrowed her brows in slight curiosity and Leon looked up from the menu at the mention of his name.

“In my trailer, co-workers and I are going for lunch. Also, put me on speaker.” Minji’s tone was blank but she could sense mischief in it. Before she could reply, Leon, once again, spoke this time with his phone lit up for him to tap in the number for delivery.

“Do you want a McFlurry?”

“Leon –”

“Oreo or KitKat?” He gave her a cheeky grin and she rolled her eyes, though a faint smile was on her face. She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her.

“Oreo.”

“Put me on speaker!” Minji whined causing So Ah to let out a sigh, tapping on the screen before setting her phone onto the island.

“Can you behave?” So Ah muttered in Korean, voice becoming shy and Leon raised an eyebrow at that.

“Hi, Leon!” Minji’s voice beamed from the speaker.

“Hey, fun day at work?” Leon asked as So Ah got off of her seat and went to his side, looking at the menu for anything else she might want. He lowered the menu to make it easier for her, receiving a small smile in return to which he reciprocated.

“Yeah, tiring, but fun. One of the models tripped over their heels and sprained their ankle, so they’re taking off early. Rest well, Milo!” Minji exclaimed into the distance in the end, most likely to the model.

“Not gonna blame them though, the net setting with high heels was a bitch to shoot.”

“Well, at least –“

“Can we get nuggets?” So Ah spoke over him and he blinked at that, seeing her with an innocent smile but a glint in her eyes; she was getting back at him.

Instead, he plastered a smile, “Sure thing –“

“With barbecue sauce... And Coke.” She ended with a toothy smile and a nod. He chuckled, nodding before looking back down at her phone.

“Wow, I’m not even there yet and I’m third-wheeling.” Minji joked and So Ah’s cheeks blazed up.

“We’re just ordering food, what’s wrong with that?” So Ah asked, her tone becoming an octave higher as she sat down on the chair next to Leon’s.

“For sure, anyway, how’s my little Jiwoo? It’s...” Minji went silent before speaking again, “Close to four.”

“Yeah, he’s napping.” So Ah said as Leon pressed the phone to his ear, now ready to order.

“Man, those kiwis really knock him out. I ate three of them and I didn’t feel sleepy at all.” Minji whistled, that windy noise returning in the back.

“True, but it got you to the hospital.”

“People are allergic to peanuts then I bust in with my kiwi allergy, so humiliating.” She could hear the pout in the model’s tone and laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh because you aren’t allergic to anything.” Minji jokingly snapped and So Ah chuckled.

“One medical condition at a time.” So Ah joked back and from her peripheral vision, Leon’s eyes hardened for a split second but before he could say anything, the delivery guy picked up.

“Hey, I’d like to place a delivery to...”

So Ah took her phone and left the kitchen, giving him a moment to place the order and she took the call off of speaker, going to the living room.

“... Does Leon know?” Minji asked; tone hesitant yet she was sure she was right. So Ah let out a sigh, running her hand through her hair as she began pacing.

“Yeah.”

“How is he taking it?”

“Not... Well.” So Ah grumbled, looking over into the kitchen, seeing his lips move audibly on the phone, blues looking down at the menu, occasionally nodding.

“It’ll be okay. Do you need refills? I can talk to mom –” So Ah interrupted her, voice firm.

“No, I’m okay. Could you do me a favour though?” So Ah asked, voice becoming softer at the request.

“Sure, anything.” Minji’s smile was heard and she almost smiled too, but it was hesitant.

“Could you... Uh, could you tell mom to call me?” So Ah took in her silence to continue, “It’s just... For the past few days I’ve noticed she was texting you and well, I’ve been trying to talk to her and dad...” She trailed away, waiting for a reply. She thought the call was off and she looked down at her phone, seeing it was still ongoing; so she pressed her phone back to her ear.

“Yeah, of course; I’ll talk to her after this, okay?” Minji’s caring tone came back and So Ah let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Anything for you, So Ah.” Minji smiled, “I know they haven’t been fair to you, but know they still love you. They never stopped loving you.”

“... Yeah...” Was all So Ah could mutter, trying to deeply believe it.

Voices and chatter were heard in the background then Minji spoke, “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll be home in an hour.”

“Okay, eat well, Minnie.” So Ah tried to sound cheery but Minji knew she was understandably upset.

“You too, Soo.”

The call ended as they both hung up. So Ah’s hand pressed to her mouth as a feeble attempt to stop her muttering in her mother tongue, feeling disregarded by her own parents. She remembers them practically being all over her till she was eighteen; that was when their business trips were getting more frequent than before.

She lightly tossed her phone onto the couch and made her way back to the kitchen, just in time as Leon had hung up, and he looked up at her.

“Good news, food will be here in thirty minutes.” He began and she raised an eyebrow, sitting down across from him.

“Okay...”

“Bad news is that the ice cream machine is down again so no McFlurry.” He stretched a fake smile and she whined, deflating onto the counter.

“Why is it always down?” Her voice came out muffled and Leon laughed, finding it amusing.

His hand went to her head without thinking, ruffling it gently with a smile, “Come on, now. We can get ice cream later.”

“... Chocolate?” her muffled voice returned, and he chuckled again, hand slowly coming to a stop but stayed in its place, seemingly waiting for a sign or a hint that she’d shrug him off, but she stayed there.

“Chocolate.” He affirmed and she giggled, her fingertips touching the back of his thumb ever so lightly he almost thought it was a fly.

“You’re too kind to me.” Her murmur brought a shiver down his spine for a split second but he didn’t falter.

“I thought I was a dick to you.” Leon teased and her hand smacked him to shut him up though he only laughed at this.

“You are a dick.”

✠

So Ah shook the small box of nuggets in front of Leon, silently offering him the last piece as he was wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin.

They had just finished their meals, joking and talking about anything and everything. She’d tell him a story of her 8th birthday and he’d tell her about his first dog.

With a closed smile, Leon took the last nugget and popped it into his mouth as she set the now empty box next to the empty wrappers of paper. She took her half-empty cup, taking a long sip before letting the cool drink quench her thirst.

“It’s like all the working out I’ve done today was just thrown out of the window.” He sighed out, leaning back against his chair and she giggled.

“Says the one who’s got the body of a Greek God.” She commented lightly, “I’m the one who doesn’t even work out.” She ended, taking another sip, hoping she’d finish it before the ice would make it taste watery.

He irked an eyebrow at her comment, a grin coming onto his face, “Greek God, huh?” He leaned onto the table with his chin resting onto his propped up hand as his eyes peered into hers, “Then you must be a Greek Goddess.”

She choked onto her drink and his amused grin widened at her cheeks turning red. She coughed a bit; looking at him with furrowed eyebrows then shook her head.

“Too much expectation coming from someone who has a daily workout routine.” She regained her composer, though still flustered.

“Besides, the closest thing to working out I’ve ever done is that bicycle out there.” She gestured out of her window and he shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just me then.” He let out a disappointed sigh, pretending to be upset and she tilted her head at him.

“Just you what?”

“To think you look like, what’s her face? Aphro-titty?” His brows furrowed in feigned confusion and she lost it, wheezing with laughter.

“You mean Aphrodite?!”

✠

“So Ah, I’m home!” Minji’s voice echoed in the house as she came through the front door, holding onto a bunch of fancy looking different sized pink bags with a black bold font Minx’s Body. She let out a loud sigh, just content of finally being home.

It was close to ten o’clock and she knew she was late by five hours, having lost track of time when she and her co-workers got drinks after lunch – then got dinner and more drinks.

Slipping off her heels, she set them aside by a few gentle kicks of her foot along with the bags then she walked deeper into the surprisingly quiet house but she could pick up the coos of her little baby. She stood by the living room’s entrance, lips parting at the scene.

So Ah was curled up on the couch, sound asleep while Leon’s head was leaning back against the couch, eyes blinking blankly at the ceiling and finally, Jiwoo was in his playpen, trying to shove an educational cube into his mouth.

So Ah’s head was leaning against his shoulder, arm hugging onto a cushion and she looked content and happy. Leon’s eyes slid to the corner, catching Minji’s presence and he lifted his head with an irked eyebrow but she only smirked at him, crossing her arms, gesturing with her eyes at the position they were in. He looked down at So Ah, ears burning up a bit before he slowly got off.

That was when Minji saw that So Ah’s petite fingers were grabbing onto his big ones, a habit she always had as a little kid. His free hand gently went to her head, holding onto her weight as he slowly lied her down onto the couch, being careful to not wake her up. Once she was down, he, as softly as possible, pried her fingers off of his hand and set her hand down next to her face and it clenched a little around nothing.

All Minji was able to do is watch in utter awe at how this hunk of a man was being absolutely gentle with her little sister. That loving glint in his eyes, the lingering touches of his hands; the man was in too deep.

As Leon was laying the covers over her, Minji quietly walked behind him to get to Jiwoo whose eyes lit up and dropped his toy, raising his arms as excited sounds left his mouth. Minji picked him up, softly shushing him with her index finger pressed to her lips and he mimicked her, causing her to smile as Leon looked at her.

She gestured her head to the kitchen then made her way there, missing how his eyes lingered on So Ah for a split second then he followed after the eldest sister, shutting off the lights, leaving the light from the kitchen to softly illuminate the living room.

“That must’ve been one hell of a lunch.” Leon spoke first light-heartedly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter and Minji chuckled, setting Jiwoo onto the island and then opened the fridge to get him his milk, knowing he was an hour past his bedtime, and almond milk.

“Sorry, we went out for drinks afterwards, but it paid off for you two, didn’t it?” She grinned at him and he let out a breathily chuckle, shaking his head.

She took notice of his red ears and the subtle nervous look on his face before she poured Jiwoo’s milk into a kettle, and almond milk into a separate one, pouring for two mugs then sat both kettles onto the stove on medium heat.

“You know, you two look cute together.” Minji started, slowly stirring the whole milk as to not let it burn, knowing almond milk takes longer to steam, her eyes looking up towards him then glancing at Jiwoo who was sitting on the island, smacking the apple in the fruit bowl.

Leon huffed a bit with a small smile, “Think so?”

“I know so.” Minji retorted, earning a chuckle from him again and she furrowed her brows, “Why don’t you ask her out?” She asked, now curious, returning her attention to the slowly heating up milk and she turned the stove off, successfully making the milk warm enough for Jiwoo.

“It’d be a liability.” He admitted, the smile slipping to a frown as she poured the milk into a sippy cup, closing it tightly and handed it to Jiwoo, giving him a peck on his forehead as he had begun drinking the milk with his big innocent eyes.

“The relationship would be a liability?” Minji asked, not knowing how to take in the information as she paid attention to the slightly steaming almond milk, stirring it as to not let it burn at the bottom. Leon shuffled slightly in his spot, visibly uncomfortable with the topic – maybe he just didn’t know how to address it without seeming like an asshole.

“With my line of work, anything can be a liability.” He said, looking over at her with those piercing eyes, but they weren’t sharp – they actually looked sad. She blinked at that, going silent for a few seconds, and he continued.

“And I don’t want her to get hurt.” He muttered, turning his eyes back to Jiwoo.

“How would she get hurt?” She asked, turning off the stove and pouring the non-dairy milk into two mugs. She leaned on the island across from him, offering him the mug and he took it with a silent thanks. She took a sip, eyes peering into his as she waited for an answer.

“You don’t wanna know.” He only said, his tone becoming serious with a hint of disgust and she went quiet. For once, she’d seen a side of him she never saw before.

Leon was always cocky and cheeky with a gallon worth of flirty and bad cliché jokes, but she had never seen this side of him – serious with deep hatred in his sea eyes yet fear flowed in the back of those irises. He wasn’t just refusing to be with So Ah; he was doing so in order to protect her.

But from what; protect her from whom?

“I’m guessing you’re not a mafia leader then.” She tried to lighten up the mood, and it worked for a bit, catching a twitch in his lips.

Leon shook his head before taking a gulp from his mug.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He gave her a grin and she let out a dismayed sigh.

“Damn, and here I thought you were cool.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“You think I’m cool?” He raised an eyebrow at her, teasing her.

Minji tut-tutted at him, “Careful, Mister-secret-job. I’m happily married and you’re pining over my sister.” She raised her hand in front of him, showing off her golden wedding ring adorned with diamonds and he chuckled in disbelief at her comment.

“Do you think you’ll be confessing any time soon?” She asked the golden question and his eyes went down to his mug with a faint bittersweet smile.

If he had woken up in a different universe where bioweapons never existed and he met her under a different circumstance, he would’ve asked her out right then and there.

He would’ve given her the night of her life, taking her wherever she wanted to go, whether amusement parks or some fancy restaurant; he wouldn’t let that soft smile slip away from her face. He would’ve held her close and slow danced in the kitchen with the radio playing gently in the back at three in the morning. He would’ve held her close and never let go.

But alas, his naive self just had to go to Raccoon City that day; changing his life forever in just one night.

“No, it’s better this way.”

✠

The door closed behind him with a soft click and a big sigh escaped his lips, unaware that he was holding his breath in any form.

Leon was finally back home.

He shuffled out of his boots, setting them aside and took off his jacket to hang it on the hanger. It was close to eleven o’clock now, one hour away from midnight.

The whole day relayed itself in his head as he moved to the kitchen, opening the cabinet and taking out the bottle of Brandy liquor he keeps at room temperature. Pouring himself half a glass, he downed it in one go, hissing through his teeth a bit at the stinging sensation the drink left behind.

“Always so damn dramatic, aren’t you...” Leon murmured to himself, rubbing his eye with his palm, trying to ease away the sleepiness in it. Almost lazily, he went up the stairs to his bathroom where he washed up and took a hot shower to coax him to sleep a bit faster.

His thoughts burned his head just like the steaming shower; his thoughts of So Ah. One second, he was doing just fine with knowing her from a distance. Then the next was him casually just being in her house and her near his lawn with an extra muffin or apple, offering the snack with a toothy grin. The way the distance was between them, with him being inside her house but her never in his, resembled that of the emotional connection between them.

She’s willing to let him in, but he isn’t; shutting her off in a feeble attempt to not let her know about his feelings, to never let her in. He knew that the moment she ever comes into his house, he’d lose it.

After drying his body, leaving his hair damp, Leon slipped on his black sweatpants and a simple white shirt, throwing on a hoodie to shield him from the cold. Cranking up the heater a tick, he walked to his bed then his eyes glanced over at her window.

It was dark but the night light was on, meaning the sisters and the kid were asleep. His body flopped onto the bed, laying on his stomach, and draped the covers over his lower half. Through tired half-lidded eyes, the digital clock read 12:02 AM as he drifted to sleep.

Why do I feel like I forgot something...?

#leon kennedy x reader smut #ocs #resident evil infinite darkness #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader

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sincerelyella · 3 years

Text

Always Remember Us This Way Part 2

Book: The Royal Heir (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x OC (Alyssa Devereaux Walker)

Song Inspiration: Always Remember Us This Way by Lady Gaga

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Queen Ella Rys and Malia Rys belong to me; Alyssa Walker belongs to the amazing @burnsoslow and used with permission in this series.

Catch up here

A/N: In celebration of King Liam and Queen Ella’s baby girl being born in TRH2 I wanted to write something to commemorate it (kinda). Some things are canon, but don’t expect it to follow the book much.

Big thank you to @burnsoslow for reading over this and editing and making suggestions so I don’t sound like a crazy person.

Warnings: TW: angst; TW: blood; TW: childbirth complications; TW: possible major character death. There are mentions of real medical emergencies and procedures, if this is a trigger for you please don’t read any further. Also, I do not work in a maternity unit at my hospital so please excuse any inaccuracies.

Words: 2481

Liam sat in the corner of the suite that was originally assigned to Ella in the maternity unit. He sat next to his newborn daughter, Malia, occasionally checking on her if she whined or cried. The nursing staff had started checking on both him and Malia, feeding her formula or changing her diaper. He was thankful for the help since he couldn’t seem to function. He hardly spoke to anyone, he didn’t call anybody; all he could do was sit and stare at Malia.

He kept thinking about Ella; the last time he saw her smile, the last time he kissed her mouth, the last words she said to him, the last time he heard her sing.

So when I’m all choked up, And I can’t find the words

Every time we say goodbye, Baby, it hurts

It had been about an hour or so since he last saw his wife, he couldn’t get the last image of her out of his mind. She was extremely pale, unconscious, with her mouth open. Her beautiful face looked so … lifeless. Liam leaned forward in his chair, hands covering his face as he started to sob. He didn’t know how long he sat there crying; his whole body heaved as he tried to suck in air. She made me promise to save our baby. He knew this is what she would have wanted, but why? He wiped his hands on his jeans and looked at Malia again, reaching over to touch her little body. Somehow, being close to his baby girl made him feel closer to her mother, and it gave him some peace. “I’m sorry I let you down, princess,” he whispered shakily as he tried to hold back a sob. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. We were supposed to be happy together. We were supposed to take you … home … ” he trailed off and sucked in a breath to hold in the tears.

When you look at me, And the whole world fades

I’ll always remember us this way

Suddenly, his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Drake’s face on the caller ID. He swiped to answer and just held the phone to his ear, unable to say the words.

“Li?”

Liam mustered all the energy he could, but his voice still cracked as he spoke. “Drake.”

“Liam. What’s going on?” Drake could sense it; he heard the wavering in Liam’s response. Something wasn’t right, and his best friend had never called him and Alyssa after leaving for the hospital. He heard Liam’s erratic breathing on the other end of the phone. “Liam! What is it? Is it the baby?”

Liam broke down on the phone. He couldn’t speak; he just cried and didn’t give a damn who heard him. He could vaguely hear Drake on the other end panicking, then hanging up abruptly. Liam let the phone fall from his ear to the floor. I shouldn’t have answered that.

Drake hastily hung up on Liam. Why did no one call me?! What the fuck is happening? Drake fumbled with the phone. His mind was going a mile-a-minute after hearing his best friend lose control of his emotions. The always stoic king wouldn’t just display his emotions like that in public ... unless it had something to do with his family. He wasn’t sure what to think or how bad it was going to be. He dialed Bastien’s number and waited … and waited … and waited. He growled, cursing under his breath as he hung up.

“Drake? Why are you growling? Did you get in touch with Liam?” Alyssa walked out from the bedroom, seeing her husband’s panic stricken face, and her eyes widened. “What’s going on? Is it the baby?!”

“I-I don’t know! I called Liam and he …” he trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“He what?” Alyssa’s heart filled with dread, the pregnancy hormones didn’t help matters. She hastily walked to her him and placed her hands on his cheeks to look at her. Her husband rarely cried, and right now, he was very close to it.

“I don’t know, Lyss,” he whispered. “I asked … about the baby … and he completely lost it on the phone.”

Alyssa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes immediately watering. “Oh my God, do you think it’s Ella? We have to go!”

Drake sprang up from the couch and fell into step with his wife who rushed to the front door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen island, and the pair made their way to the truck to head for the hospital.

There was a knock on the door of the maternity suite, and Liam snapped his head up, opening his eyes. He blinked to refocus and saw Dr. Ramirez standing there, studying him with a worried look. Liam stood abruptly, trying to wake himself up. “I-I’m sorry … I must have fallen asleep.” He wrinkled his brow. “Where is my wife?”

Dr. Ramirez stepped forward. “Her Majesty was bleeding profusely. I apologize if you were removed from the room but- ”

“It’s fine, doctor, but my wife?” He punctuated the last few words. “I want …” He took a breath in and let it out slowly to control the overwhelming emotion building in his chest. “I … need … to see her.” He didn’t want words right now; he just wanted to see Ella.

Dr. Ramirez nodded in understanding. “I can take you to her now; the nurses will watch Malia here.”

Liam nodded and turned to Malia before leaving. “Daddy will be back soon; I love you.” He gently kissed his daughter on the forehead before following Dr. Ramirez to the intensive care unit, Bastien following close behind.

As they walked, Liam turned to Bastien.

“Your Majesty?”

“Please have guards outside of Malia’s room.”

Bastien nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Once they reached the ICU, Liam was taken to a large area that had no patients. “Why are all the rooms empty?”

“This wing has been cleared out so that Her Majesty is the only one here.”

Liam nodded, his anxiety rising as they got closer to a single area of the unit that looked like it was occupied.

Dr. Ramirez stopped in front of a door with a guard standing outside of it and turned to Liam. “She is stabilized for now; however, we admitted her here so we can watch her closely. I just wanted to warn you, Your Majesty” - Dr. Ramirez placed a hand on Liam’s arm to get him to look at her - “She has a lot of wires around her, she’s getting medication and blood, and she isn’t awake yet. It might be a little … overwhelming for you.”

Liam nodded and waved his hand so the guard would move. He slowly turned the knob and peered inside. He felt tears of joy, relief, and the pain from being so close to losing her fall from his eyes as he walked towards the bed and grasped her small hand in his. Liam leaned over to kiss her lips, cheeks, forehead … any part he could reach, he kissed. “I thought I lost you, I love you, don’t leave me again,” he whispered in between kisses. He vowed to himself that he would never take another day with her, his family, for granted.

He finally sat back in the chair next to the bed, put their intertwined hands on his forehead and thanked God she was still there with him.

A knock pulled him out of his moment and Dr. Ramirez walked inside. “Your Majesty, are you ready for me to answer some questions now?”

“Y-yes, I’m sorry … I just needed to … see her,” he croaked as the lump grew in his throat.

“I understand; please don’t apologize.” She pulled a chair up to sit in front of him. “So I’ll explain what happened. You can ask me whatever comes to your mind.”

Liam nodded.

“Her Majesty had a retained placenta. This means that the sac that held Malia was supposed to come out just a little while after Malia was born. But in Her Majesty’s case, it didn’t. A small piece of it was attached to the wall of her uterus.”

“How … did that happen?”

“Unfortunately, the causes are still unknown. There are risk factors for it, but she didn’t have any of them when I was seeing her throughout her pregnancy. The only thing that I can think of was that her labor was somewhat long and extremely difficult for her. That could have played a factor.”

“Okay, so she’s not bleeding right now?”

“Well, after childbirth she will be bleeding; that’s normal. The problem was that her placenta needed to be removed and that area cauterized. We gave her medication to stop the hemorrhage from that area. She was bleeding entirely too much, so much so that her blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level and her heart rate spiked.”

“Is that why she was …” His eyes welled up again, and he clenched his jaw to stop them from falling. “Is that why she was … unconscious and pale?”

Dr. Ramirez nodded. “Yes, the blood loss made her pass out, and that’s the reason her blood pressure was so low. She had a lot less blood volume in her body than normal, and her heart was beating faster to compensate.”

Liam nodded again.

“She has a blood transfusion going right now. We’ll see how she does with that and recheck her.”

“When do you think she’ll … wake up?”

“It’s hard to say, her vitals are stable right now; and we took her off oxygen a little bit ago.”

“Thank you … so much for saving … my wife.” His voice hitched at his last words, and he cleared his throat. “I thought I’d lost her …”

“Please don’t thank me, Your Majesty. This is my job, and it’s an honor to be her doctor.” She gave him a small smile. “She means a lot to all of us as well.” Liam smiled in understanding. His wife took the hospital on as her personal project when she became queen. She made it her mission to assist with quality assurance and worked with many doctors and nurses to improve hospital flow and policies. Dr. Ramirez paused and cleared her throat before she got emotional. “Now, you know how to get in touch with me should you have any questions or concerns?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Dr. Ramirez curtsied and left the room, while Bastien poked his head inside. “I’m sorry about this, sir, but Drake has called me nonstop. What do you want me to tell him?”

“I’ll call him and tell him what happened.”

Bastien nodded and closed the door behind him.

Drake and Alyssa ran into the hospital, looking for the maternity unit.

“There!” Drake yelled and they rushed to the front desk.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa said, out of breath, to the secretary at the desk. “We’re here to see Queen Ella. We know she went into labor earlier this morning.”

“How are you related to Her Majesty?”

“We are her best friends, practically family. I expect you’ll see us on the security clearance list.” Alyssa said in a firm tone, setting her lips in a hard line. “King Liam hasn’t been answering our calls. W-we need to see her!” Her voice cracked, the tears in her eyes threatening to fall.

Drake gently held his wife and rubbed her shoulders.

“I need to check with protocol, ma’am. I’m very sorry about this, but … the royal family have certain security measures in place.” The secretary gave them an apologetic look.

“It’s fine, thank you. We’ll wait over here,” Drake coaxed his wife to sit on one of the chairs in the family waiting area.

“We’re her family, Drake.” Alyssa wailed. “We should be able to see her!”

“Shhh, I know, but if something happened to her or the baby, they’re going to be extremely cautious.” He regretted his words immediately as he watched Alyssa begin to cry into her hands. He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back as he let her cry.

“D-did you try … calling Bastien … again?” she sniffled into his chest.

“I’ll try again, baby,” he assured her, as he dug into his pocket, fishing for his phone. He pressed Bastien’s number and hoped that damn man answered his phone this time.

“Drake.” He heard Bastien’s lowered voice on the other end of the line.

“Bastien! What the fuck is going on? Why haven’t you answered my calls?!” Drake forgot where he was as he shouted; his voice carried through the halls.

“I’m sorry, Drake, but we … didn’t have any answers and His Majesty was-”

Drake sighed in frustration. “Just … where is he, Bastien? Where is Ella? And the baby?”

Drake heard a beeping on his phone and looked down to see that Liam was calling him. “Bas, Liam is calling-”

“You need to answer that.” Bastien promptly hung up, and Drake answered Liam’s call.

“Li. Where are you? Lyss and I are here in the maternity unit.”

He heard his brother sigh on the other end of the phone. “I’m in the ICU … with Ella.”

“Th-the … what?!”

“I’ll explain everything when you get here. We’re on the fourth floor.”

“We’re on the way.” He hung up and slowly met Alyssa’s stare.

“What did he say?”

Drake took a deep breath in and let it out. “Liam is on the fourth floor-”

“Why? What’s on the fourth floor?”

He paused for a moment, looking at his wife. “He’s in the ICU … with Ella.”

Alyssa’s jaw went slack. “THE ICU?!” Faster than he had ever seen her, she bolted up and ran for the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly.

“Alyssa.” Drake grabbed her hand and held it. “Don’t panic! It’s not good for you or our baby.”

“Don’t panic? Do you know what the ICU is?!” Her lower lip trembled.

“Liam actually was able to actually speak without crying, Lyssa,” he said, trying to calm her down. “I’m hoping that means things are better than they were when I first talked to him.”

The elevators dinged open and they both filed in, pressing the button for the fourth floor. As soon as the elevator doors reopened, Alyssa raced to the nurse’s station.

“We’re here for Queen Ella; the King called us!” Alyssa panted, gripping the counter tightly.

Drake grabbed her quickly and pulled her to him.

“Hey guys.”

Drake and Alyssa turned to see Liam, standing there with puffy, bloodshot eyes, shirt wrinkled and untucked, and his hair disheveled … like he had been running his hands through it all day.

“Wh-where is she, Liam?”

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

mango & orange green tea — hinata shouyou

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: Neutral 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: Boba shop AU :3c, female OC (little sister), i feel liek there’s second hand embarrassment in here (kinda), Hinata and you are like college age, sister is ~7?, HINTS TO TIMESKIP HINATA? BUT LIKE ONLY IN WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE LOL 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1.3𝚔

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍: mango & green tea 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 MeetFresh 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔!

⇽ 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 ◜𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜' 𝚋𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚞◞

Your younger sister, Kumiko, pointed at the various shaved ice combinations on the menu, talking about how her and her friend’s parents brought their volleyball youth group out for a birthday celebration. Which made sense, the shaved ice options that they had were all large portions and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to finish it with her. But she was really craving it and you wanted to treat her out since you’ve come back from university.

Honestly, with how long your sister was taking to pick which shaved ice option she wanted, you were thankful that the cashier was so patient. And that there was no line.

“Oh! This one, the pudding and Q mochi milk! That one’s really good. What are you gonna get?” Kumiko asked, staring up at you with wide eyes. You knew she’d feel bad if you only went to get something for her.

“Uhmm, I’m not sure, maybe a drink,” you stated, though it was more a question since there were also way too many drinks for you to choose from.

“If you’d like a suggestion-” you glance up towards the orange-haired cashier who somehow never let his smile disappear “-the mango and orange green tea is pretty good!”

You hum to yourself, staring down at the menu before settling in. It was kinda funny how he suggested something with orange considering his hair color. If you were close to him, you’d make some comment about that but you weren’t about to say that.

“Yeah, I’ll try that then, along with the pudding and Q mochi milk shaved ice.” You smiled at him as you ruffled your sister’s hair. As he tapped in the order, your eyes brushed over his arms, almost alarmed that someone who was something akin to a ray of sunshine, could be as built as he was. Heat rushed up to your face as you looked away from his arms and up to his face instead, who at the same time met your eyes to tell you the price.

You quickly give him your card and he hands you a buzzer that tells you when your order is ready.

“It’ll be out soon, thanks!” He grins and you can't help but smile back but before you know it, Kumiko’s already tugging you towards a table and grabbing the buzzer herself.

Your sister continues to update you on what’s happened since you’ve been off to college and you listen intently, waiting patiently. It doesn’t take long for the buzzer to go off and Kumiko dashed to grab it. True to Hinata Shoyo’s word, as you figured out his name since it was printed on the receipt next to ‘Cashier.’ At least, you hope that was his name since you knew that sometimes coworkers would just use the same register with a different name.

But it’d be kinda cute if that was his name, it did mean sun and his hair was bright orange and his smile might as well be as bright as the sun and the way he talked to you and your sister and his employees-

“Come on! The food’s here!!” Kumiko interrupted your thoughts, dashing towards her seat. You arched a brow at where the food (dessert, really) was and Hinata appeared, holding the tray. You flushed, embarrassed that he had to go out of his way to help. You really should have gotten the tray yourself but you had to get caught up on him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you stand up and dash towards him, grabbing the tray out of his hands before giving him a slight bow. “Kumiko, why didn’t you call me over?” You send her a slight glare but Hinata’s laughter caught your attention instead.

“It’s alright, I’m off the clock now!” He grinned. “Besides, Kumiko-chan reminds me of my little sister when she was her age.”

“Hinata’s so cool! He watched Sailor Moon too!” She beamed as you went to set the tray down in front of her, the young girl impatiently dug into the shaved ice, even grabbing a bit of mochi to place into her smaller bowl.

“Kumiko, you know you can’t talk to everyone about Sailor Moon that’s why I’m here,” you pouted jokingly. The spoon in your hand grabs the ice cream at the top to place in her bowl. “Also you should call him Hinata-san.”

“No it’s fine! You can just call me Hinata, I already told her that.” Hinata waved you off, to not let you worry anymore. Turning back to Hinata, you find that he’s holding your drink in his hand, already handing you it. Kumiko interrupts you, introducing you to Hinata for you.

“Sorry, I feel like such a bother, is there anyway I can make it up to you?” you ask sheepishly, grabbing the drink from him. Before he can answer, Kumiko does for you.

“Come eat, the shaved ice is going to melt! Hinata, who’s your favorite Sailor Guardian?” Kumiko asked before going off about who her favorite was (it’s Sailor Jupiter). You glance over at Hinata sheepishly but he almost pays you no mind as he immediately sits down across from Kumiko. You’re sure to take the spot in between them on the side of the four-seated table.

Honestly, part of you was surprised at how well Hinata was able to keep up with Kumiko’s conversation. Sometimes it felt like he was just as much a child as she was. With Hinata even giving her different anime recommendations she’d like (Like Cardcaptor Sakura) and how he’d describe things using sound effects. It felt easy and natural talking to him and your sister. You were just thankful that he was able to indulge in her obsession with Sailor Moon.

After the three of you finished the shaved ice, since it was very obvious that you and Kumiko could not finish it and you insisted that he’d have some if he was sitting with them, Kumiko declared that she wanted to return the tray and bowls. So you let her, also being sure to keep a watchful eye on her.

“I’m so sorry you got roped in like that,” you rub the back of your neck.

“No, it’s alright! Really, I didn’t have anything to do. It was fun talking to you and Kumiko-chan.” Hinata reassured. “Plus, you let me have some of the shaved ice.”

You chuckled, “It’s nothing, you’ve been more than helpful. A-plus customer service, but please if there’s anything I could do just let me know.”

Hinata looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought before the light in his head went off. “You could stop by one of my volleyball games for support! Wait, here, put your number in my phone and I’ll text you everything.” He quickly takes out his phone to hand to you and you’re suddenly shocked at how you’re putting your number into this really cute guy’s phone. And this was honestly thanks to your sister.

“Hey, Hinata!” Kumiko skipped back to the table. “Can we talk about Sailor Moon more next time?”

“Only if you come to my volleyball game!”

Kumiko gasped, jumping excitedly. So much so that you had to grab her close to you before she could get in the way of any other MeetFresh patrons.

“I play volleyball too! Did you hear that!” Kumiko asks, staring up at you with bright round eyes.

Hinata was sure to walk you and Kumiko back to your car, letting her further indulge him about what she liked about volleyball. At this point, Kumiko talked more to Hinata than you were able to, but the orange-haired boy was sure to give you glances, grateful for the fact that through your sister he was able to spend some time around you.

Later that night as you’re settling into bed with the lights off and checking your phone one last time, before you truly went to sleep, your phone vibrated with a text.

[image id: from an unknown number and a series of text messages sent at 00:09 “Today was supper fun!!! Kumiko-chan’s super cute but I’d love to get to know her pretty sibling!! Oh wait it’s hinata! Sorry was that too forward?? 😖😖”]

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢, 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗!

#hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyou x male!reader #hinata shoyo x male!reader #hinata shouyou x neutral!reader #hinata shoyo x neutral!reader #haikyuu x reader #hinata shōyō #hinata shoyou x you #hinata shouyou x y/n #hinata shoyo #haikyuu #a.writes #a.bobashop #💜.hinata

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cowboisadness · 3 years

Text

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 12

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Mentions on injury and assault ..... Chapter 12

I woke to blinding light. Disorientated and panic building as my mind is slow to catch up with where I could be right now. I’m still in the cabin. I can hear the men outside talking amongst themselves, unaware that I’m awake again. I push myself up noticing my hands and legs are free, ignoring the overall ache and searing pain running down my chest. I need to get out. This is my chance. If I could -

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” A feminine voice calls out beside me, gently placing their hand on my shoulder. I look over, glad that my eyes are starting to focus to see Tilly, in her beloved yellow dress. Please don’t be a dream.

“Tilly?” I squeak, my voice sounding harsher than it ever has.

“You’re safe. Here,” She passes over a flask of water. The liquid soothing my throat and easing the pounding in my head. Drinking the whole thing before passing it back, murmuring my thanks.

“I’ll go tell Arthur and Miss Grimshaw that you’re awake.” She says before leaving the tent, the covers over the entrance letting in more daylight, causing the back of my eyes to sting slightly before they closed behind her. I’m not even in my tent, not in my bedroll. I’m in Arthurs tent. Once again waking up here after passing out. I really need to make sure that doesn’t become a habit of mine. Trying to think, all I can remember was being carried out of that cabin, but I can’t even remember reaching the door. I didn't even get to see the aftermath of Johns and Arthurs handiwork. Those mens bodies spewed across the grass. Shame.

I can’t help but scoff at that thought. If my mother could hear my thoughts on how I wished to see the corpses of the men that harmed me she would turn in her grave for sure. But my brothers would be proud.

The tent flaps opened again, the sting more bearable, as Miss Grimshaw and Arthur made their way in, the former holding a small medicine bottle and some whiskey.

“How are you feeling dear?” Miss Grimshaw asks in a soothing tone I'd only heard before when I first arrived here. A serious case of Déjà vu happening.

“Like shit. I’m guessing I look it too.” I hum out a quiet laugh.

“Got you a tonic to fight any infection. And some whiskey for the pain,” She said as she placed the two bottles on the crate next to the cot. “I’ll get Pearson to whip something up for you. Then I’ll be back later to change your dressings.” I called out my thanks to her as she left, leaving just the two of us. Arthur pulled up a chair to sit beside me, picking up the whiskey as he did.

“Than-”

“I’m s-”

We both spoke at the same time, causing us to huff out a laugh. He gestured for me to go first.

“Thank you for coming for me,” I said, he looked down to the floor, his hat covering most of his face from view.

“Belle, m’ sorry we didn’t get there earlier. Me, John and Charles tried to-”

“You got there just in time. Before they…” I couldn’t even finish. But I didn't have to, the look on his face told me he knew. He saw the state I was in, the other guys’ intentions were very obvious with his pants halfway down. Thankful now that I wasn’t that far exposed but in the process of stabbing the bastard it was the last thing on my mind. My hand went down my chest as I slowly tried to sit up, feeling the layers of cloth that wrapped around my shoulder and waist then across my back through the clothing, which I also just realised are not mine. Arthur stood to help me sit, leaning me against the crates behind me. Sitting back down and handing me the now opened bottle of whiskey, drinking as he continued.

“Miss Grimshaw stitched ya up. Said it would probably scar.” I nodded and took a drink, feeling it burn as it passed down my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the tent opening being pulled back, Dutch now making his way in, his eyes on me.

“Did you talk?” No hello, no how are you feeling...just did I talk? Talk about what exactly?

“Dutch, she's just come round-” Dutch held his hand up to halt Arthur, his eyes still trained on me.

“I need to know. Did. You. Talk?”

“Talk about what?”

“Did you tell them where we are?”

“They didn’t ask anything about you.” I looked between the two men, completely confused as to what he as asking.

“Really?”

“Dutch-”

“I told you. They never mentioned you or camp or anyone here. I don’t even know who those men were.”

“The safety of this gang depends on if you gave away any information to those men. I surely hope you are not lying to me, Mrs Hawthorne.” He spoke slowly and low as if I were a disobedient child that needed to understand every word he said. A quiet threat heard loud and clear.

“I didn’t say a word. They only cared about me. If they are a threat to you all, they never made it known.” I replied back in the same slow tone he gave to me, making sure he understood every word I said. I’ve been here for weeks, over 2 months, making myself at home and seeing the others here as a family, my new family. And he thinks I would sabotage the one thing that makes me feel safe? Sure, torture is a good way of getting people to speak, but Dutch doesn’t seem to realise id rather die than be alone, or back with him.

With that another person emerges from the outside, Hosea, he must have heard the raised voices. I was on the verge of tears knowing Dutch probably doesn’t believe me, in a way I understand the concern, but I was in pain and the constant dull ache in my head was now throbbing. Hosea took one look at us all and motioned Dutch out of the tent, telling him to let me heal and to ask questions later. Dutch left without another word, practically stormed out. Hosea was about to speak but I cut in. “I promise I never said anything, I don’t even think they knew I’m with you all.” Hosea put his hand up to me to stop. Before Hosea could speak a word, Arthur sat forwards, taking my hand in his, stilling my clenching fist in the hopes I would relax.

“I believe you, Bella. Charles and me saw a missing poster of you in Rhodes station. $500 reward. Those guys that took you, they were some of the O’Driscolls. We have a history with them, all bad business.”

“Did the poster mention being able to do whatever they wanted with me but to leave my face untouched?”

“No…”

“Then...I don’t think it was the poster that led them to me. Frank asked them himself.” Arthur and Hosea shared a look of disbelief as I cried. Knocking back more whiskey to numb as much of the pain as possible. The realisation of what happened hitting me like a damn train. Hosea promised he would talk to Dutch, try and calm him down, and that if I needed anything to not hesitate to ask.

Arthur stayed with me till nightfall. Answering whatever questions I had about this rival gang and the very colourful history they have with them, especially the leader, Colm. We talked about anything else that didn't involve the O’Driscolls or what had happened the day before after that. I asked about the photographs he had pinned to the side of the wagon and the two in frames propped up. He spoke fondly about his mother, Beatrice, who passed when he was only a boy. And his dog, Cooper. He even admitted he would bathe with him sometimes. I couldn’t stop laughing, causing him to flush with embarrassment. I assured him it was sweet. He didn’t seem to have many kind words when it came to his father, Lyle. Saying he was a no-good man that didn’t die soon enough. When speaking about Mary, a beautiful woman from what I could see from the photograph, I couldn’t help but notice him hesitate when speaking about her. But I could sense the fondness he still felt for her, a young love like that always holds a special place in your heart. I felt a tang of jealousy. Not because of her, but because I didn't get the chance to feel love like they once did. To have someone you love, love you back just the same despite any differences. It was a shame it didn’t work out for them, some of those differences becoming the wedge that drove them apart. He only left me when Miss Grimshaw came along to change my dressings, to get us both some supper and another bottle of whiskey after we polished off the last one together.

The alcohol did help with the ache, replacing it with a slight buzz but not without slight weariness, but I knew drinking anymore would be asking my headache not to leave. The sun was far beyond the horizon now, the moon firmly replacing it. Now slouched on the cot and Arthur splayed out on the chair with one foot perched on the cot beside my hip. A yawn made my tiredness become more apparent, soon I'll be fighting to keep my eyes open. After a few moments of silence, listening to the nocturnal birds fly overhead, realising everyone else must have gone to sleep, Arthur stood, motioning to the tonic that I had neglected in favour of the whiskey, telling me to drink up before I fell asleep.

“I can go to my tent. Don’t want to hog your bed again.” I said, another yawn making its way out of me.

“Nah it’s alright. Not gunna kick an injured lady out've a more comfy bed.” he looked down at me, his mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Where will you sleep?”

“I got my bedroll out there, I’ll sleep where I drop.”

“I'll feel bad if you have to sleep out there when I’m in here,” He just looked at me, expecting a fight to stop me from sleeping somewhere a little less comfortable no doubt. “Might as well sleep here.” His eyebrows raised at that and it took me a moment to realise what he must have thought I was suggesting. “Oh, no, I mean you might as well bring your bedroll in here. At least then you will have a cover over your head.”

His face relaxed at my explanation, giving off a half-smirk and looking back down at the ground, stroking the back of this neck that I noticed he does when nervous or uncomfortable. Lord, it is cute when he does that. Finally, he nodded, giving in with a quiet, sure.

He returned within seconds with his bedroll, which must have been nearby, and laid it out on the floor. Kicking off his boots and draping a worn blanket over him. I did the same, both of us now staring up at the canvas with our hands resting behind our heads. Sleep slowly taking over me.

“Goodnight, Arthur. Thank you again.” I spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Bella” he replied, just as soft as i.

It was barely daybreak when I woke up. The birds singing their morning song all around, a call to breakfast and a new day with new possibilities. My head still had a lingering pulse, not sure if it was from last night whiskey or finally getting over the multiple blows I received. Either way, coffee could fix it.

I took my time getting on my feet, my body still aching lightly and to not wake Arthur, who was curled up on the floor facing me, his arm propping up his head as a pillow. I made my way out of the tent to be greeted by stunning orange hues illuminating the camp and Flat Iron Lake. I made my way to the campfire to brew a fresh batch, adding wood to the dying fire as I waited. I grabbed two tin cups, waiting for the coffee to emit its awakening aroma before pouring. Even just the smell was helping my head ease off a bit. I sat with my coffee, blowing on it absentmindedly, my eyes lost in the fire as my mind flashed, replaying what happened not two days ago. It wasn't the first time to be taken against my will in that way, although I'm thankful it didn't get that far. But just knowing that Frank gave his permission for my captors to do whatever they wanted with me and to be paid handsomely for it along with my return made a feeling burn within me that I have never felt before. Pure rage. Staying in camp would be the safest thing I can do now, Frank won’t give up. No doubt I would go insane. Maybe I could change my appearance somehow so I could venture out from time to time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as Arthur sat down beside me on the log. I never even heard him approach me I was so lost within my mind.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as I handed him his cup of coffee, still piping hot.

“I'm gonna kill Frank,” I said matter-of-factly, turning to face him. The look of bewilderment on his face made me huff out a laugh.

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgam x fem oc #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fic

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queenofthefallenangels · 4 years

Text

“I am going to make sure you never even think of touching my girl ever again. I am going to make sure you wish you never even met her.”

Seth Rollins X OC X Jon Moxley

Rated: M

Tag Team: @sithstatlander @xladyxfatex @awkward-teenaged-girl @steadysuitcasepurseranch @themansbliss @katelynirwinhemmingsclifordhood @strwbrryshrtckexo @bluedragonfly678 @luleelurah @mohawkmama @foreverthenerdprincess @aujenaeblaze @missnena2194 @suicidepanda07 @kelseyann2002 @princessminjikwon @nerdgirlsblog @multi-stan-kpop @redz0mbie @thebornalpha @acon1120 @jonsmoxley @chonisberonica @goddessofhardrock @1dluver13xx

@marismar @vampirepixi @dietwrestling @asktvhead @moxslilangel2020 @ chynagirl13

Jon’s POV

Aria and I had planned to go to a restaurant, but at the last minute, I changed my mind. I texted her to meet me at the dock on the beach that wasn’t too far from either of our houses. It was a nice, clear night outside. Stars filling the sky. It was a cool night. A perfect night for a date outside. I wasn’t exactly a romantic, but I wasn’t blind to what most girls’ ideal dates were. It also helped that I had an idea what Aria had wanted.

I walked towards the dock to see her already there. I stopped to watch her for a bit. She had let her soft blonde hair down as it cascaded down just past her shoulder and curled at the ends. She wore a white baby doll tank top that flowed out and light jean shorts. She had on some wedge sandals to pull the outfit together.. I told her she didn’t need to bother dressing up. She would still look stunning regardless. I was right. She smiled sweetly as she saw me and waved me over.

I walked over to her as she opened her arms for a hug. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I responded as the vanilla scent from her hair hit my nostrils. It was the same shampoo she had always used. “I am glad you didn’t mind the change of plans.” “It’s fine, it's a great night for it. Plus, I like this idea better. It’s such a beautiful night.”

I nodded in agreement as I reached out for her hand. “Let’s go get some ice cream”

We walked towards the ice cream shop and I ordered two ice cream cones for her and me to share. After we got them we started to walk down the beach. We were silent for most of the walk, minus some small talk. It wasn’t awkward. It just felt good.

“So, are you going to tell me what brought you here?” She asked me. “I lived here my whole life, so I am interested in why anyone would want to live here?”

“Well, you never left so there has to be a good reason for you to have still stayed there.” I chuckled as I raised an eyebrow. “I got a job offer at the American Nightmare. I needed a job so I took it.” It wasn’t a lie. Well, sort of. Cody Rhodes, who runs the American Nightmare and the American Dream which sells cars, had asked me to join his group of underground fighters. I didn’t want to at first. “Why did you stick around?” I asked.

“I guess I stayed around for my dad, and after he died...my ex. Now, I don’t exactly know where to go.” She shrugged. “I haven’t been anywhere else.”

“Where have you always wanted to go?” I asked her.

She stopped thinking about it for a moment. “I guess maybe England or Paris, I guess that is really cliche to say. I have no idea.” She blushed. I could tell she was embarrassed. I didn’t know why. It was cute though. The way her cheeks went from a pale white to a deep red. “Where did you live before?” She asked me.

“I was born in Ohio but left when I was 18. I moved around since then. Just trying to find my place in the world.”

“How do you feel about here?” She asked as she put a piece of her hair behind her ear.

I looked down at her, “Right now, it seems great.” I paused looking in her eyes. I started to lean down. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her kiss with her. I wanted to kiss her again. To taste her again. As I moved in closer, she seemed to have other plans. Aria had finished her ice cream and was running towards the ocean. I shook my head as I watched her run into the water. I couldn’t help myself, I ran after her. She splashed water on me as I came in. I chuckled as I grabbed her spinning her around. She was giggling the whole time. “Jon!” She yelled as I acted as if I was going to throw her into the water.

I felt something in that moment that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Real happiness. Sure, everyone has moments of short happiness when they hear a joke or something, but this was real happiness where in this moment nothing else mattered. It was just me and her. That was always where my true happiness was. With Aria.

Our moment in time was cut short. Her phone began to ring. She blindly answered it.

“Hello?” Her smile faded too fast. “Because I can do what I want. You can’t tell me what to do, Seth. You aren’t my father.”

Of course it had to be Seth. He must have been lurking. That’s the only way he could know. I looked around for him. He or one of his goons had to be somewhere.

“Seth,” Aria sighed before I took her phone and hung up. She looked down as I handed her the phone back. “I am sorry, Jon. I didn’t mean...well, I mean...I should have checked the caller id. I really thought it was Alexa making sure I was okay. She said she might call in case the date was going bad.” She forced a smile. “I really am sorry. I understand if you want to go.”

I shook my head, “No, but you might want to get a restraining order or something on him. If you broke up, why does he care where you are?”

She rolled her eyes, “I wish I knew. All he does is cheat and lie when we are together. When we are apart, he becomes,” she paused to find the right words. “Obsessed? I guess that’s why I take him back all the time. That and he didn’t always used to be like this. He used to be sweet.”

I mentally rolled my eyes. “Maybe he didn’t show his real self until later.” I am sure I still have the scars from the hundred of knives that man has put in my back. We all thought he was a good guy. Maybe he was. The world of underground fighting has a way of changing a person. Rollins wanted more attention...more glory. It wasn’t just the love of fighting anymore or whatever it was when we started fighting. He wanted girls all over him. That was an easy part for any man to get caught up in. Before, I had met Aria. I had fallen into that mess. I would take any girl that wanted me. I didn’t care who they were or what they wanted for life. I just wanted them for what they had between their legs.

“Maybe, but he really does mean well. He was the only one who was there for me when my dad died.” Her words hit me hard like a knife. I had left soon after her dad had died. I wasn’t there for her. I always felt bad that I wasn’t there. I just couldn’t be.

“I am sorry for what happened to you, but you didn’t ask him to be there for you. Just because he was doesn’t mean he has a right to treat you badly.”

I could hear a small sigh come from her body. “I know. Just let’s not talk about this. It’s ruining the mood of the date.”

I nodded as I walked with her.

Aria’s POV

The rest of the date went without a hitch. I loved how easy he was to talk to. I felt relaxed and calm with him. I hadn’t felt that way in awhile with anyone since Dean left. In some way, he reminded me a lot of him. I almost couldn’t shake it. Maybe, it was just my want for Dean to be back so bad was causing me to think Jon could be him. I did miss Dean a lot more than I wanted to admit to anyone. There was so much more to our relationship than just friendship, a lot more. It broke my heart when he left.

Jon walked me back to Alexa’s apartment. He smiled at me as he leaned down. He hovered over my lips as he put a hand on my hip, pulling me close to him. “I had a great time tonight.”

“It doesn’t have to end,” I suggested as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Alexa won’t be home until later. We have the whole apartment to ourselves.”

He smirked his blue eyes crowding over with lust. “I like the sound of that.” He closed the rest of the space between him and I as his soft lips met mine. The world stood still as our lips moved together.

#jon moxley #jon moxley x oc #jon moxley smut #jon moxley fanfiction #seth rollins #seth rollins smut #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins x oc #wwe #wwe smut #aew #aew smut #aew fanfiction

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one-spidey-boii · 4 years

Text

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch eleven

read ch ten here

masterlist

an; hey friends. the world is very tense right now and my heart is broken. please be safe in whatever you do. please stand up for what’s right and support those who’s voices aren’t being heard. i hope this chapter can be a short little escape for you today. lots of love.

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 5k+

edie's pov

i'm gonna be completely honest here—i really like peter.

i'm kicking myself in the shin because it took me so long to realize it. the dorky boy who would follow me around like a puppy is now someone i find so incredibly attractive and strong and sexy and yikes i need to slow down. but, like it always does, a small pebble of doubt finds its way into my shoe and i can't ignore it.

we're nearing the end of june, meaning it's almost one third of the way through summer. i hate to think that maybe things will change when we go back home. maybe he won't want people to think we're a thing. wait- are we a thing? gosh, we haven't even had that conversation yet. i mean, i definitely wouldn't mind being with peter. ah, peter parker! who would of thought?

i'm laying smack dab in the middle of my bed with my arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. i'm sure i look like an idiot, just staring at the ceiling with a dopey smile on my face.

after i finished my phone call with mr. stark, it was practically dinner time. when i got back, peter was gone. but this time it didn't bother me, now that i know what’s truly up with him, and i’m sure he had a situation to take care of. i made dinner for myself and flopped on my bed, which is where i've been for the past hour.

footsteps sound off down the hall and i smile impossibly wider. i glance at the clock and notice it's only ten pm, but my excitement to see peter overshadows my concern. the footsteps stop outside my door and a soft knock raps on the wooden surface before it swings open slowly.

i raise my head to see peter standing straight up with both arms behind his back. he cocks his head and speaks, "hey you, did i wake you up?"

i shake my head and smile at him. i'm already growing impatient with his distance and i extend my arms out to him, making grabby hands with my fingers. he just chuckles at me and takes a few steps into the room.

peter is no longer in his suit and has changed into black joggers and a grey t-shirt. i let my eyes wander over his chest and shoulders. i blush when he clears his throat.

"i uh- well i guess you're curious why i'm back so early. um, so, this- is why." peter stumbles through his words before bringing his arms from behind his back and cradling the smallest kitten i've ever seen against his chest. the small fluff ball stares curiously at the room and lets out a small meow in my direction. i sit up completely.

"holy shit. that’s s a cat." i say, quite dumbfounded at the current situation. peter nods his head and lets out a breathy 'yeah' as he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. "well bring it here!" i continue with a incredulous chuckle and a small grin. peter pads over to my bed with haste and plops the kitten on the comforter gently.

it wobbles on its feet for a few seconds before arching its back in a thorough stretch and settling into the mattress. i raise my hand and softly rub the kitten between the ears. peter is still standing next to my bed, his hands now in his pockets. i look between him and the cat and tilt my head slightly.

"where...did you get her? erm, him?" i question. he pulls his hands from his pockets and lifts one knee to lean against the bed.

"some people were messing with 'em and i don't know...i didn't know what else to do." he says with a shrug and lowers himself to rest on the bed with me. i look back to the cat and move to hold one of its paws, i smile when it doesn't pull away. with hesitant movements, i softly grip the animal under each arm and lift it up to get a look at its underside.

"um, i think it's a female? maybe?" i mumble as my cheeks flush and i place her back down on the bed. she pads over the peter's leg and nuzzles against his knee. i smile at the interaction between the two. peter runs his fingers down her spine and coos at her with the sweetest voice. he looks back up at me and shrugs.

"can i name her?" he pleads.

i look at him with fake hurt on my face, "and give me no say? i hardly think that's fair!" i gasp. peter rolls his eyes.

"i'm the one who found her. that kinda makes me her dad. so i think it's perfectly fair." he replies with a knowing smirk. i shake my head at the boy and gesture for him to continue.

"okay, okay, what's her name?" i push. he looks down at her and bites his bottom lip in thought. i think about how i want to run my thumb over it.

"how about 'cinder'? cause like she's grey and cinder is kinda grey i guess and i don't know. if you don't like it you can pick some-" i cut him off.

"that's cute, peter. cinder it is." i say with a wink as i move to pick her up again. she stares into my eyes with her own golden ones. i rub the back of her neck and she leans into my hand, making me chuckle at the little creature. perhaps she's just what we need around here. someone to take care of, someone i can take care of when peter is out.

"wait, do we even have any supplies for her? don't we need like, a litter pan? and food?" i ask, nervous that we don't have the proper things to take good care of the little thing. peter just shakes his head, "i already got it all. i had to sneak her around the store, but we got it all." he smiles at me. i return the gesture.

"now gimme, i wanna see her! gimme!" peter whines and reaches out to take her from my arms. cinder immediately lets out a low meow and wriggles around in peters arms. he struggles to keep a grip on her as she pushes against his chest and squirms like a worm in his hold. with one soft hiss, she bats a paw at peters chest and he lets her go with a high pitched yelp. she lands on the bed next to me and her tail twitches before she finds a comfortable spot on the mattress once again.

i turn to peter with a shocked face, "pfft, damn! doesn't look like she likes her dad very much." i tease before i take in his condition. a small line of red seeps through his white shirt a few inches below the collar. it's a thin line, but enough to make me want to take back my words, "oh shit, she got you good, pete." i point to his chest and pull his shirt down to take a closer look.

he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his chin down to look at the scratch, "ah, she's gonna be a momma's girl i guess." he mumbles, defeated. i perk an eyebrow up at him and withdraw my hands from his shirt.

"are you insinuating that this is our child?" i point to cinder who is curled in a tight ball, "i'm not ready to have children right now, if ever, mr. parker." i challenge jokingly, but the last part isn't too far from the truth. growing up without seeing my dad for long stretches of time made me realize a few things— i never want to not be there for my children and i never want to leave my partner behind to take care of them alone. and taking care of the city and working with mr. stark is something i love, i don't see myself giving that up any time soon.

"well- n-no! i mean, yes? but it's just a joke, obviously we haven't had sex or anything yet. ah! not that i expect us to, well i guess id l-like that but pfft what am i talking about, yanno? what do i know?" peter rambles and shuts his mouth tight when he's finished. i lower my head, sharing the awkward moment with him and look up at him through my lashes. he gulps. i take a deep breath in.

"let's clean you up, yeah?" i say, desperate for a new topic. he nods his head vigorously and leans his body in towards mine. my chest squeezes at his closeness. my thoughts linger to the future and what it might be like if peter and i were together. would we get married? would we fight crime together? does he want kids?

i force my body to move and i stumble over my feet to my bathroom, leaving peter on the bed. my hands shake as i grab a hand towel and run it under warm water. i also grab an alcohol wipe and a bandage before stepping back into the bedroom. peter stares at me patiently.

i offer him a tight lipped smile as i make my way back over to him. he naturally angles his chest towards me as i nestle myself between his legs and pull down on the collar of his shirt.

"i-i can take it off. i-if it's easier." he suggests. i blush, but nod for him to do so. peter snakes his arms around his frame and grips the hem of his shirt on either side before pulling it over his head. i try to suppress the gasp that leaps up my throat and it gets caught there.

what i had done to peter earlier in the day was simply to mess with him. i was too focused on making him squirm than actually paying attention to what i was doing. it now dawns on me that i was so close to him, so close to parts of him that made me shiver. i want peter, and i'm sure he knows that, but i don't want to give myself away too easily. i internally frown at myself for possibly giving away the wrong impression.

i toss the thoughts away, "okay," i whisper weakly. my hands move to dab the warm, wet cloth over his scratch. i see him flinch at the contact, "is it cold? i tried for warm water." i explain, mocking his reaction up to nothing but the temperature.

"n-no. it's good." he says breathily. i smile, but keep my eyes on his chest and the subsiding blood. i set the hand towel down and pick up the disinfectant wipe, tearing it open with numb finger tips.

my eyes flutter back up to his briefly, "it might sting a little." i warn softly. he nods his head. with featherlike touches, i clean the scratch and i can feel myself relax a little into his legs.

"what are you so nervous around me?"

i freeze at peter's question and lower my hands down, "i'm not?" i say, which comes out as more of a question.

"you are." he insists.

my stomach flutters at the softness of his tone, letting me know he's not speaking in an accusatory way, but that he's simply curious. i don't know if i have an answer though.

i end up shrugging, "i've always gotten nervous around people i like." i conclude, choosing to be honest with the boy before me. his eyes never leave mine as he smiles and pushes a piece of hair away from my eyes.

"you don't have to be nervous, hun. i'm the one who has a right to be nervous," he jokes. then he reaches for my empty hand and raises it to his chest, placing it right above his heart, his hand is warm over mine, "don't you feel it?" he asks, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. but i do. i feel his heartbeat beneath my fingers as it beats a mile a minute. his warm chest rises and falls slowly as i trace my pointer finger in circles on his hot skin. i reluctantly pull my hand away from him.

"thank you." i whisper, curling in on myself and taking a small step back. peter tilts his head, "for what?" he asks, eyes wide and confused.

"for being the sweetest man in the whole world." i say with a toothy smile, which he returns. it goes silent again as i open the bandaid and place it over the already better looking scratch. then without a second thought, i bring my hands to his cheeks and hold them gently. his skin is cool to the touch, but slowly warms under my hold. i lean down to his level and place a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose.

before i can pull away, peter places his hands over mine to keep me there. our eyes flicker over each other's faces as we appreciate the soft moment together. i lean in again and ghost my lips over his, but i don't connect them completely. he whines when i slip my hands out from under his and move to clean up the scraps of the bandaid and toss it in my bedside waste bin.

"let me see you." he mumbles and grabs me by the hem of my cotton shirt. i resist against his tug and plant my feet.

"see what, peter?" i ask, my senses catching aflame at what he may be asking. he cocks his head and stares at me with his warm, dark eyes. they show no intent of harm or malice and i kick myself for ever thinking they might. his hands slip under the hem of my shirt and rest gently on my hips. before i can protest, he's pulling my top up under my breasts to expose my entire side, but i don't cover myself.

"it looks good, like it's really healing." he chirps, bringing a smile to both of our faces.

"well i'd hope so."

our heads snap to the open doorway of my bedroom. peter's hands drop from my body, i go cold.

"hey, kids." mr. stark greets, leaning against the frame of the door with an all knowing grin on his face.

when i said getting stabbed was the closest i've ever felt to death- i lied. it's right now.

right now in this frozen moment, the three of us flicker our eyes between each other, afraid to make the first move.

tony stands in the doorway, arms crossed and a hip popped out to the side. his face is stoic and tense, aside from his left eyebrow that is arched in question as the scene that was about to unfold in front of him. i don’t even know what that would have been. that’s a lie, yes i do. maybe.

peter still sits on the bed, his hands cup over his naked chest as if he doesn't want anyone to see him. he's breathing deeply and is as still as a statue. his eyes never drift to mine, even as my own beg for him to look in my direction.

then there's me- arms pulled in front of my torso, fingers tangled together as i pull the edge of my shirt down past my belly button. my head reels as i take in the situation before me. the room flashes red as my brain deems it a code red, all with the awful sirens blaring to match my beating heart.

"well i can't say i'm surprised." mr. stark tuts with his tongue and continues to look at peter and i like he caught us drawing on the wall with crayons, "and peter- stop doing that it's weird."

peter snaps his hands away from his chest and sets them in his lap, lowering his eyes to watch his thumbs fumble over one another. i look at him expectantly, hoping he will come to my rescue and make this all go away.

when he doesn't, and continues to sit there and shut down, i internally sigh and take charge.

"peter was just checking up on my scar, mr. stark. like you asked." i say plainly, pushing the sirens and frantic heart beats to the side. peter raises his head at my voice and nods numbly in reply. tony brings his hand to his chin and rubs it while tapping his foot. he's fully entering parent mode now and i want to roll my eyes.

"right, yes, of course! how silly of me! walking in here to see two of my best pupils nearly shirtless and touching each other! harmless check up between two pals, for sure." he rambles and flails his arms about the stuffy room.

"it wasn't anything more than that, sir." peter mumbles, his voice soft. my heart feels heavy in my chest and my eyes linger on peter before turning back to mr. stark with empty eyes and an empty feeling in my stomach.

"if you say so, kid. i just...i don't want you guys to get caught up in some- what is that?!" tony changes lanes quickly as he points to cinder, who is still laying in a tight little ball in the middle of my bed. i move towards her and scoop her up in my arms before taking her over to him.

"this is cinder. uh, peter found her while on patrol." i explain and hold her out to him. mr. stark reluctantly takes her into his arms and tucks her against his chest. he lowers his chin to look down on her fluffy body and rubs her cheek, she leans into him. i can see him soften at her and i hold back a smile.

"oh, okay. she can stay. yeah, you can stay." he practically coos in her direction. he turns on his foot and looks over his shoulder, "go to bed you two. in your respective rooms." he eyes us before walking away. he cradles cinder in his arms and continues to coo down the hall, "and you're coming with me, little lady..."

i angle myself towards peter and offer him a smile. he doesn't meet my eyes as he swiftly leaves my room and makes his way towards his bedroom.

it's the next morning when a knock on my door wakes me up. i stiffly sit up in bed and mumble a 'come in'.

mr. stark enters the room and shuts the door behind him. i rub my eyes with my palms and wait til my vision adjusts to say anything.

"uh, morning?" i say with a groggy voice.

he turns to face me and i can't stifle the laugh that leaves my mouth. tony stands there in a dark t-shirt and jeans. his shirt is covered in cat hair and his eyes are tired as he stares at me. cinder is perched on his shoulders, her head on one and her back legs hanging off the other.

he sighs, "get this thing off of me. she won't leave me alone. i don't know what else to do." he takes large strides over to my bedside and reaches his hands around to pull the kitten away from him. she digs her claws into his back and clings to him while he lets out a string of cuss words.

i roll my eyes and swat his hands away before picking cinder up. it proves to be a true struggle as she continues to claw at tony's back. he yelps when i finally get her off and she plops her tiny body onto the bed. my abrupt wake up is making me irritable, and tony notices.

"sorry to bother you, your highness, but we have some things to discuss." i roll my eyes again and open my mouth to speak.

"mr. stark, peter and i weren't doing anything i swear-" the man cuts me off. my eyes flare at him.

"oh really?"

"yes, really. he was just looking at the scar and-"

"cause peter says otherwise."

i shut my damn mouth, "what?"

tony sits on the edge of my bed and props his chin up on his hand as his elbow rests on his knee. he begins to flutter his eye lashes obnoxiously and tilts his head to the side, "peter said he loooves you." he draws out the words and they seep into my brain.

"w-what?"

"i'm just kidding, kid, lighten up." my face falls and i can't help it. if i could have one wish, it would be to have the ability to hide things from tony. my only goddamn wish.

his face softens, "ah shit, wolfie. what's going on?" he sits up straight and leans in an inch to show he's here and listening. i gulp and look away from his worried stare. the way peter left me last night sends a chill down my spine. one that doesn't make me smile or sigh in relief, but one that makes me scared for the future.

"i- um, i guess peter and i have gotten closer?" i say it as a question. i never thought of how to put everything that's happened into words for someone who had no idea about peter and i. i take a deep breath, "and i guess we're a thing?" tony's eyebrows fly up to his hairline, i try and back pedal, "well, wait i don't know actually- i mean he may not want to be, but i thought that maybe that's where it was going. b-but now that someone knows about it, he doesn't seem too happy." i trail off and rest my throbbing head in my hands.

after peter left last night, i spent hours in bed, staring at the ceiling. my body felt cold and brittle, like my bones would snap if breathed too hard. peter's speedy retreat hurt, and it gave room in my heart for the seed of doubt to grow and blossom.

tony's voice brings me back, "i did talk to peter. last night. and kid, i'll tell you what- that boy has some weirdly intense feelings for you." he chuckles, but i don't join in.

"but you said at the beginning that you didn't want anything to happen between us. and i'm so sorry that i let it-" he cuts me off and i groan.

"edie, i don't care if you and peter get funky while i'm not around. you're adults for christ sake! and do you really think i didn't see it coming? i pretty much know everything." he says with a smug face by the end of his lecture. i shake my head and hold back the few tears that threaten to spill.

"yeah, yeah i know you do." i laugh through all the emotions that pass over me and allow one tear to fall. tony gestures to nothing, "see? you know i know. all is well now."

i nod my head slowly at him, but i don't meet his eyes. part of me is embarrassed for making a big deal out of nothing, but to me it wasn't nothing. we're talking about peter here, a boy that i adore and it would've broken my heart if tony didn't approve.

"thank you, mr. stark." i say, forcing myself to finally meet his eyes. he gives me a soft smile and a curt nod before he begins to stand. i stop him, "when can i go out again?" i ask. tony halts his movement and sinks back down into the mattress.

"that depends on how you're feeling." he says simply.

"i feel fine. the pain is gone. it's just numb now." i explain with wide eyes, hoping to convey my honesty. he sits there, thinking for a few long seconds. my mind goes in a million different directions as i wait for him to say something.

he does with a tight lipped smile, "give it a few more days, kid. we'll get you back out there soon enough. i promise." he stands up again and ruffles my hair teasingly before walking away.

"mr. stark!" i call out to grab his attention and he turns back around, "how long are you staying?" i ask.

he shrugs, "just for tonight."

peter's pov

the wind pushes against my body as i swing past building after building, all of them muddling together. the sky is pink and orange, the sun slipping down below the horizon once again. i slow down and pick a rooftop to land on. i lower myself down into a sitting position and watch the sky change colors as stars begin to poke out in the dark.

the night is quiet. no disturbances needing my attention, which gives me ample opportunity to continue looking for the pair that hurt edie. i close my eyes beneath my mask and focus on my surroundings. the air is chilly and nips at my arms and legs. the only noise prominent enough is the droll of street traffic below me. my fingers lay flat on my thighs and i drum them over my suit. i take a deep breath and engage my enhanced hearing.

i hear the thud of boots and the clacking of heels on the sidewalk. i hear mumbles and tired voices scattered throughout the streets. i can pick up the faint music that plays from someone's headphones. and i can hear someone's heartbeat. it pounds from the alleyway below and i notice the slight palpitations that skip through the rhythm every so often.

i hone in on the sound, it's loud and sporadic. i open my eyes and stand up quickly, surveying the alleyway, my eye catches movement to my left and i peer down onto the scene before me.

a young girl is whispering harshly at a man, spit flying from her mouth. i narrow my eyes and try to focus on her words and movements. suddenly her body stills and she gives the man a pointed look before changing her personality completely and taking on an insecure outwards appearance. her shoulders slump and her arms wrap around themselves simultaneously with the man who straightens his body to cower over her. he begins to whisper crude things to the girl, words that make me uncomfortable.

a rustle from the end of the alleyway grabs my attention. a dog fumbles through, happy and running. behind him is a man. he's flustered and sweaty and his heart beat is pounding in my ears. the oblivious dog runs out of the dark side street and around the corner. the tired man slows to a stop a few meters from the couple, cautious of the situation. the tall man ignores the presence of the sweaty man and raises his arm to hit the girl.

i watch the next moments in horror.

the intimidating man slaps the girl across the face and her head snaps in the direction of the hit. the tired man runs to jump on the guy and struggles to tackle him to the ground. he does, and the girl scurries away and out of sight. the two men struggle with each other, the tired man maintaining his hold on the other. out of the corner of my eye the woman returns and i see an object shine in her hand. before i can do anything, she brings the object down on the stranger and stabs him in the back. he sputters and gasps and rolls onto his side. the woman speaks.

"don't you just hate being stabbed in the back?" she takes long, heavy steps around the bleeding man, "well, that's what you get for taking the risk. helping a stranger isn't as luxurious as it seems."

it's then that everything i've just witnessed makes sense, as horrible as that sounds, i've found edie's attackers.

with an outraged cry i jump down from my position on the building and land in front of the two attackers. they flinch in surprise before the woman straightens up and a devilish smile breaks out onto her face, "ah! my little spider boy, you've finally found us."

i ignore her words and shoot a web at her hands, hoping to cuff them together. she moves at the last second and my attack hits the man in the crotch and he doubles over in pain. i shoot another web at her and it pins her foot to the ground. in one smooth swoop, she bends down to cut the web away and straightens back up to throw the knife at my head. i dodge the weapon and stumble over the bleeding man. the knife just nicks my forearm, but damn it stings.

my attention snaps to the man on the ground and my body is leaning down to help him. my brain is telling me to keep fighting, but every other part of my being needs to help this man. i flip him onto his stomach and rip away the shirt on his back.

"sir, i need you to stay with me okay? sir? just keep breathing, don't move. oh god." i can't stop myself from focusing on the blood. there’s so much blood. i use a web to close up the wound and apply pressure. the clunk of footsteps fleeing the scene makes my blood boil as i make a move to go after them. but i'm stopped by the man, laying before me, his hand grabs my wrist and he chokes on his words.

"please. please don't go. i don't want to die alone. you can't leave." my breathing slows and my head fills with conflicting emotions. i want nothing more than to run from this man, going against everything i've ever been taught, and chase down the bastards that attacked the only person that truly matters to me. i know i should stay, call for help and comfort the injured man, but my feet are already moving and i'm shooting a web to the top of the nearest building and swinging away.

i turn on my comm, "mr. stark? it's peter, i need you to come out here to an alleyway between 34th and 11th. there's a man, he's been hurt. i gotta go after edie's attackers. i found them. i found them, mr. stark."

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit @kitykatnumber @franksholland @goddamnit5sos @thehugslut @fandom-phaser

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geewithluv · 4 years

Text

ESOTERIC [three]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞ Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS) Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, kinda angst? diet angst Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, a tiny smut scene, mentions of drug addiction ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ：4k

Ｒａｔｉｎｇ：18+

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ [part one] [part two]

“Does 23 need more fluids? Or is 22 crying for pain meds?” Kit walked behind the desk of the nurses' station to speak to the charge nurse that paged her.

“Personal call, line 3.” Elaine spoke bluntly as she took a couple of purple folders.

“Personal call?” Kit asked as she moved toward the phone. There are hardly ever personal calls for the staff, and especially not for Kit...

“That’s all they said, honey.” Elaine informed her before she slipped into a patient's room, Kit’s eyebrows furrowed as she picked up the phone.

“Kit Briar.” She said as the phone connected.

“Miss Briar, this is Dr. Stephenson from Smooth Sailing Rehab in Ph--”

“I’m aware,” she cut the man off, there was no time for his spiel, “did something happen to Oliver?” Kit wrapped her fingers around the neckline of her scrubs, tugging slightly. The therapist she had when she was 15 pops into her mind as she begins to control her breathing.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Smooth Sailing has very intricate security measures in place to ensure the optimal amount of safety for all of our patients.” The man spoke as if he was trying to remain calm, but the slight waver sent Kit’s mind wondering how hard it would be to grab some Xanax from the hospital pharmacy. “We are afraid that your brother has left the premises.”

“He’s not dead.” Kit let out a breath. Relief flows through her body.

“No, he’s not.”

“Well that’s -- what the hell do you mean ‘left the premises’?!” Kit practically yelled into the phone as the words settled in.

“We tried to get in contact with you as soon as we noticed he was missing, we left a message with the other emergency contact.” Kit paced as far as the phone cord would let her.

“The other emergency contact? What other emergency contact do you have for him? Everyone he knows probably should have checked into your ‘top of the line’ establishment with him! Our mother has been bedridden for years so she’s not answering the phone for anyone. Who the hell did you talk to?!”

“Uh…” The doctor trails off, Kit can hear him moving papers around. “His name was...Jimmy? I think.”

“Jimmy?” Kit almost lost the remaining composure she had left. Who was Jimmy? And why was he an emergency contact… wait... “Jimin! That little--” She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. “You guys have cameras, right. Please tell me you’ve got cameras.” She practically begs at this point. Hitman wouldn’t have sent her brother to a borderline functioning rehab, at least she thought. Now she doesn’t know what to think.

“He only appears on one security camera leaving the premises on foot, we have police searching the area.”

“How in God's name did you lose a detoxing addict! He couldn’t have possibly been fully out of withdrawal yet! He’s tall ethnically-ambiguous looking dumbass with tattoos that only emphasize his ongoing drug problem. He’s hard to miss!” Kit has drawn the attention of a couple of patients at this point.

“It’s harder than you think.” The man mutters. “I assure you that we are trying to figure out how this has happened, we are certain he couldn’t have gone far. He said he doesn’t know anyone in Arizona at all and was without a car. We still have his personal belongings including his ID.”

“You better hope with everything you’ve got that he’s found safe and sound. Thanks for calling Dr. Stephenson.” Kit hangs up before the doctor can speak again.

“You need to go home, this is a family emergency.” Elaine followed Kit back to the nurses' station as she pulled her greying hair into a clip.

“I’m fine, Elaine. My brother is just stupid. They’ll find him and bring him back or they’ll arrest him.” Kit shrugged it off. Work was a distraction, it could be aggravating. But it was a distraction nevertheless.

“I don’t think you’re fine.” Elaine scoffed. “You damn near stabbed a hole into a bag of saline trying to hang it up.”

“The hole for the hook isn’t large enough.” She grumbled, balling her fists to keep from raking her fingers through her already heavily disheveled hair.

“I’ve never seen someone so angrily push morphine.”

“Who makes a pain killer you have to administer slowly or else the patient will get sick! I’ve got other people to treat and I have to spend 5 minutes pushing a dose of morphine.” The younger woman shot back.

“Go home, Kit. It’s not a suggestion anymore, it’s an order.” At the woman’s stern words, Kit groaned and leaned against the desk. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Okay.” She said softly, taking her pager off and making her way to the locker room.

5 missed calls, 3 voicemails, and 17 text messages flood Kit’s notifications as she turned her phone back on. 2 calls from the rehab along with a voice mail, the rest of the notifications come from Jimin. She doesn’t listen to any of the voicemails, opting to read the automated transcript and filling in the blanks that her phone couldn’t decipher. Technology has come so far, but not far enough. She didn’t know if she was honestly upset that Jimin was another emergency contact for her brother, or if she just needed more people to be mad at besides Oliver.

Kit sat in her car for 10 minutes only calling Oliver’s phone. Leaving a voicemail every other call. She knew, deep in her mind, that he didn’t even have his phone on him. But she hoped that maybe he’d be able to sense she was freaking out.

“I cannot believe this idiot!” She yelled to no one as she pulled out of the garage.

“Maybe you should just leave her be.” Namjoon suggested to Jimin as he grabbed a jacket.

“She’s probably losing her mind.” Jimin picked up his car keys, not in the mood to argue.

“And? Her brother just went MIA from rehab in a state he’d never been to before. She’s understandably worried.” Namjoon continued to be a voice of reason, but Jimin, as always, refused to understand that. He glared at the taller man.

“Which is why I need to make sure she’s okay.” He said before walking out of the house.

“You keep a key under the doormat? Are you trying to get robbed?” Jimin scoffed as he entered Kit’s apartment, ignoring how she was standing, clearly scared of whoever was entering her home uninvited.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!” Kit shouted as Jimin shrugged his coat off and threw it on the coffee table. He ignored the anger he had hardly seen from her before.

“You didn’t respond to me.” He set the spare key on the table.

“For a reason, Jimin! You can’t just walk into my home uninvited because I didn’t text you back!” She sat back down on the sofa.

“Uh, yeah, I can. I wouldn’t be able too if you kept a spare key somewhere less obvious.”

“You’d just break the door down.” She rolled her eyes as she brought her legs up to her chest.

“Maybe, anyway, I was worried someone killed you or something, you should've just answered your phone. I can tell you’re not doing well, so it’s good that I’m here.” He smiled as if he had done her a favor.

“You’re ridiculous.” She scoffed. “Of course I’m not doing well, my brother is gone and somehow bypassed a whole crew of security guards. How could I be calm?” Her feet hit the floor with a noise louder than she would usually allow, having often scolding Jimin for stomping.

Jimin crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he just didn’t want to be there, I don’t blame him.”

“He wouldn’t just leave, Jimin. He wouldn’t. He knew he needed to get clean. I just--” she sniffled, “I just talked to him yesterday and he was so excited to finally be sober.” She held down her desire to cry. Jimin’s jaw tensed seeing her try so hard to not break, he realized he hadn’t understood how this was really impacting her. He sat down beside her, pulling her into his side.

“It’s going to be fine, he’ll be just fine. You know I wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true.” His voice softened as he started threading his hand in her hair, softly detangling her curls. He wasn’t actually sure, but he knew she needed to hear it, even if that meant she’d yell at him later for lying.

“I know.” She whispered. “He kept me safe for so long, I want to do the same for him.”

“It’s not your job to keep him safe, Oliver made the decision to start popping pills by himself. That’s on him. Not you. I know it’s hard, because he’s your brother, and you love him. But you can’t blame yourself and I can see it in your eyes that you’re blaming yourself. You have nothing to do with it. Oliver can handle himself, you know that, and even I know that. He’s fine, he’s just being really stupid and reckless right now.”

“I hope you’re right…” Kit shifted her body to face him. “The Oliver I know wouldn’t…” she pulled on the loose string from her tank top, “wouldn’t leave me here wondering where he was and if he was okay.” She hiccupped softly as a few tears roll down her cheeks. “Even though we’ve been distant since mom got sick and he got...sick. We’ve always checked in. Always.”

“He’s not in his right mind.” Jimin tried to explain. “If he was then he wouldn’t have left, and he wouldn’t have let you worry.” He bit his inner cheek and tried to choose words carefully. “The rehab is in a fairly secluded place, he won’t get far so they’ll find him. He might even come to his senses and go back on his own. He’s scared.”

“Of what?” Kit looked at him through tears. “Scared to get clean? Scared to have a life that doesn’t revolve around drugs? Why would he be scared of that?”

“It’s...” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He blew out his cheeks before speaking again. “It’s just scary to accept that your life has gone wrong. You just think about the bad place you were in that made you turn to drugs. Or maybe you don’t even remember life before drugs. So maybe you’re afraid of getting back to normal life and normal life is shit and you can’t get high anymore to avoid how shitty it is.” Jimin rants before shaking his head, looking up at the ceiling. “There are lots of reasons it’s scary for lots of different people.”

“Oh.” Kit was surprised to hear his answer, she wanted to ask how he knew so well, but she refrained from what would probably be a personal and upsetting answer.

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” He asked after a moment of quiet.

“You don’t know how I like it.”

“Yeah, I do.” He said, she raised a questioning eyebrow. “Way too sweet. You don’t need 3 spoonfuls of sugar in your tea. And especially not 4. 2 is more than enough. You also hardly get the water steaming because you want to drink it as soon as it’s done instead of waiting for it to cool down. You don’t steep your tea for 5 minutes like you’re supposed to because you're impatient so you only wait 3 minutes. But sometimes you hardly wait at all like a heathen--”

“I get it, I get it.” She stopped him with a wave of her hand.

He smiled, bringing his face close to hers. “I know how you like your tea, kitten.” He softly pecked her lips before standing and quickly making his way to her kitchen leaving her to wonder if he had actually just kissed her or her she imagined it in her panicked state of mind. Kit pulls Netflix up on the television and after some fiddling, Ellen Pompeo’s voice fills the apartment. “You’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy without me?” Jimin asked in shock.

“I was mad at you.” Kit said, a teasing smile on her face.

“What did I do to earn this betrayal?” He comes back into the living room with her cup of tea, just the way she likes it.

“You’re my brother’s emergency contact.” She said. “Also you’re too cute to be so mean.” Kit pouted and Jimin swore his heart melted.

“Mean!” He said as if he had never been called such a thing before, to be fair the things he was usually called were a lot harsher. “I’ll ignore that if we get back to the cute part. I’ll have you know I am a very sexy man. Not cute.” Kit shook her head.

“You’re adorable, but also mean.” She laughed.

“Oh! I’ll show you mean!” Jimin said before reaching out to tickle her sides. Her giggles fill his ears.

“Jimin!” She squealed trying to push him off of her. “Jimin! You asshole!”

“Take it back!” He laughed along with her.

“I take it back! I take it back!”

“See, was that so hard?” He pulls off of her, still hovering over her on the sofa. Kit doesn’t respond, instead, he gets lost in his eyes. “What?” He said softly.

“Nothing.” Kit whispered, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Would it be a bad idea to kiss you right now?” Kit quickly shakes her head in response. In less than a second, his lips are on hers, tasting the sugary sweet tea on her tongue.

“Would it be a bad idea,” Kit started when they break the kiss, “to do more than just kiss you right now?” Jimin thought he stopped breathing for a moment.

“What would you…” He gives her a small kiss. “...want to do?” His hands move delicately along her sides.

“Don’t make me say it.” Kit mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Tell me what you want, babygirl. Wanna hear you say it.” He starts dusting his lips over her jawline.

“I want you to… to… fuck me.” She clenches her eyes tight as she feels embarrassment run through her body.

“That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” he teased. “Let’s go to your bedroom so I can give you what you want.” Before Kit can fully register what he said, he’s already leaving the living room. She looks over at him shocked. “You coming?” He smirked looking back at her. Kit nodded before stumbling off the sofa and following him to her bedroom. By the time she enters, Jimin is already pulling his shirt over his head. “Sit down on the bed.” Jimin commanded and she quietly obeyed. Jimin walks over to her, kneeling on the floor to kiss her. He pulled her tank top off, tossing it onto the floor beside them. Kit watches every move he makes wide-eyed. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Kit nodded, steadying her breath.

“Just checking.” He hummed. “Lay back, kitten.” He said while gently pushing her. Jimin yanks her bottoms and underwear off of her in one smooth motion. “Can already see how wet you are. Just for me?” Kit hums a ‘yes’. He moves her legs onto his shoulders, moving his arms over them and locking his hands just below her navel. He starts kissing her inner thighs. “Bet you taste so good. Want me to taste you, babygirl?” Jimin saw her nod and heard her soft moan. “Use your words.” He demands, lightly biting her thigh.

“Yes… yes please, Jimin.”

“Good girl.” He praised her before licking a smooth stripe from her hole to her pulsing clit. Kit let out an exasperated moan. “Taste even better than I could’ve imagined.” He said before sucking her clit into his mouth. Kit tries to arch her back up to him but he stops her, holding her down on the bed, forcing her to fall victim to his tongue.

After what feels like an eternity or even longer, Jimin releases her clit from his attack, he licks up her folds again before concentrating on her hole, tongue-fucking her and groaning while he tastes her juices flowing into his mouth. Jimin noticed her moans grow more frequent and louder in volume and used it as motivation. He puts his attention back on her clit and moves to grab her hips, pulling her core closer to his mouth.

“Jimin, I’m...I’m gonna cum…” She stumbles, her hands clench the sheets as he sucks the tiny ball of nerves. His nails lightly digging into her skin as she starts trembling and involuntarily moving away from him. Kit lets out a cry as she cums and Jimin starts to slow, not completely stopping as he helps her ride out her orgasm.

“Goddamn, kitten.” Is all he says, a big smile on his face as he climbs back on the bed, rubbing the remnants of her orgasm off on the back of his hand. Jimin kissed her passionately, his tongue swirling on hers making her taste herself on him. He started pushing his own pants off. “Move up.” Jimin directed, tossing his pants and boxer briefs aside as he watches an already worn-out Kit move up to the head of the bed, slightly perched up against the pillows.

“I want you.” Fell from her lips. “Want you in me.” It comes out almost a cry.

“Hold on, kitten. Gonna give you what you want.” He moved over her, spreading her legs with one hand. “Look at me when I fill you up.” Jimin commanded, dark hair falling into his face as the leaking head of his cock brushes up against her hole. Kit’s eyes met his, silently pleading before closing shut when he pushes in her. “Look at me.” Jimin’s voice was harsher, he grips her jaw, staring deep into her eyes. “Good girl.” He hummed as he moves more. A cry of satisfaction melds with his own grunts as he fully fills her.

“Feel so good in me.” Kit sputtered as Jimin started moving. Slowly pulling out before powerfully thrusting into her. Jimin praises her, tells her how good she’s doing, how good she feels, as fucks her. The sound of her moans and the feeling of her clenching around him as she gets close to another wave has him with his head in the crook of her neck.

“Gonna make me cum, kitten. Gonna cum for you.” He rambles, holding on long enough for her to cum around him before he pulls out, cumming onto her stomach. “Holy shit…” Jimin breathed out.

“Yeah.” Kit mutters what can be considered a response, too out of breath and in a daze to figure out something else. He captured her lips in a quick kiss.

“Let me clean you off.” He said as he stood, making his way to her bathroom. With a warm damp washcloth, he comes back over to her. “You’re so good to me.” He told her as he cleaned her up.

“You say as you clean me.” She softly giggles, her voice sleepy, as he runs the washcloth over her thighs. “You’re so good to me.”

“We can be good to each other, then.” He smiled, kissing her cheek and rushing off to put the washcloth back in her bathroom.

Kit and Jimin spend an hour cuddled in her bed, naked, with yet another episode of Grey’s Anatomy playing despite being focused more on each other than whatever drama was happening in the fictional hospital. Kit was finally about to work up the strength to ask Jimin about their relationship when the unfamiliar sound of her doorbell ringing startled both of them.

“Who the--” Jimin gets up first, fishing for his pocket knife somewhere in his discarded jeans, his heart rate quickly increasing.

“Probably my landlord. Maybe those girl scouts from down the hall. Just stay here.” Kit grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself as she went towards her door. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looks out the peephole and no one is there.

“Who is it?” Jimin comes out to the living room, now with his jeans back on but still shirtless. His pocket knife is now in his hand.

“I dunno, there’s no one out there.” She looked over at him briefly.

“They might be hiding.” He moved in front of her, unlocking the door carefully. Kit watched him look out into the hall.

“Jimin…” He murmured acknowledgment, still on guard. “There’s a package.”

“Wh-- oh.” He bends down to pick it up. Jimin walked back into the apartment, the door automatically closing behind him. He took a deep breath, unsure if any of his rivals are interested in making explosives, and opened the box. Nothing. Well, nothing bomb-related. But there is something.

“Who sent me a gun?” Kit exclaimed as she peered into the box.

“No one sent it. There’s no mailing label. They dropped it off here.” Jimin’s jaw tightened as he took it out. He knew precisely whose gun it was. “A phone?” He picked it up, holding it out to her.

“Oh my god…” Kit gasped, yanking the cell phone from him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! It could be a--”

“It’s Oliver’s phone.” She cried. Her mind now running a mile a minute. As she turns the device on. “Olly...what did they do with Olly?” Her eyes start watering as she looks between the phone and the gun.

“Are you sure it’s his phone?” Jimin sighed as he stared down at the gold-accented gun. ‘This is not good’ is all Jimin could think.

“Yes! Of course, I’m sure! This is his case, it’s custom-made. You can’t buy it anywhere.” She sniffled, the phone now lights up. The lock screen is an old family photo of Oliver, Kit, and their parents.

“Fuck.” Jimin said to himself as Kit starts sobbing. He ran his fingers through his hair wondering how to connect Jin’s gun to Oliver’s phone. Ignoring Kit, Jimin grabs his phone. He tries to relax his muscles as he calls Jin.

“Hey, man. Thought you were with Kit wha--”

“She just got a box dropped off.” Jimin said bluntly.

“Oh? Oh! That’s very bad. That means someone knows where she lives, but what are you calling me for?”

“I know what that means dumbass! I’m calling you because the only things in the box were her brother’s cell phone and that damn prized gun of yours.”

“My gun? The one with the gold plated design that I got for my 21st birthday? That gun?”

“Yes, that gun.”

“I thought it was lost in the fire, I kept it at the restaurant--”

“I know. So why was it given to Kit?” Talking to Jin was never calming for Jimin.

“I dunno, man. Maybe the fire and her brother going MIA are connected.”

“Oliver wouldn’t set the restaurant on fire, would he?” Jimin asked, Kit perks up, face filled with worry. She wanted to scream at Jimin for even thinking such a thing about her brother but she couldn’t form words fast enough.

“No? I don’t think so. I mean he was waiting for the supply to come in so he could buy some more molly, maybe coke. I don’t remember. I don’t think he’d burn it. Especially not before buying anything.”

Jimin sighed. “There’s a reason. Someone had both these items Jin, there aren’t many solutions.”

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to the guys. You coming back tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m bringing Kit. She can’t stay here.” He glanced over at her.

Kit scoffed. “You can’t just take me!” She tried to argue as Jimin ended the call.

“It’s not safe here, whoever the hell sent this shit knows where you live. I can’t protect you alone. This building isn’t secure.”

“I’ll be fine!” Kit stood from her dining table. She knew it wasn’t worth arguing about. Jimin made up his mind.

“Get dressed, we’re going back to the house.” Jimin said, pressing his lips to hers before she could protest.

FIN part 3. Okay so my life got really crazy so sorry for not updating. I moved suddenly and got a job so I’m a little more settled now. Hope to update soon.

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #armysource #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #my writing

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cutesuki--bakugou · 5 years

Text

Shameful

Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC)

Koge’s Tag

Rating: Teen, for cursing and suggestive conversation

Word Count: 4,309

Me 3:09 PM: Hey love, I just got off the train. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, okay?

Cutesuki 3:11 PM: ok. just show the guard at the door your id, theyll let you in.

Me 3:11 PM: What, they don’t know who I am by now? （＾ｖ＾）

Cutesuki 3:12 PM: utsuro theyre just following my rules. you could be a shapeshifter coming to try and kill me.

Me 3:12 PM: Ooh, true. (¬‿¬) But what if I have a fake ID, too?

Cutesuki 3:14 PM: they can tell. ill order you an access badge.

Me 3:15 PM: So I can come whenever I want?! (⊙ᗜ⊙)

Cutesuki 3:15 PM: not if you act like that you cant.

Me 3:16 PM: Oh, sorry. I’ll be stoic. (・∀・) And mean. All your employees will hate me.

Cutesuki 3:16 PM: probably

Me 3:17 PM: Uh, I was joking! (ｰｰ;)

Cutesuki 3:17 PM: lol

Koge gave a small roll of her eyes, placing her phone back into her jacket pocket. The chill of the mid winter air fogged her breath, making her feel like she was walking through clouds. Why the weather decided to get so awful on her day off was beyond her, but she hated it. Not only was it her day off, she also had special plans that involved a lot of walking. The act of walking isn’t want got to her, but the fact that it was so cold her nose felt like it was frozen solid did. Even though she was wrapped head to toe in warm clothing, the petite woman felt like an icicle, and the thought of stopping at an approaching coffee shop peaked her interest.

Hm, coffee sounds good, she thought to herself. I wonder if Katsuki would want something. It’s a bit late in the afternoon, but he’s probably worn out. I’ll get him one.

Ducking into the shop, Koge got herself a nice hot cup of straight black coffee and Bakugou his odd mixture of what he always preferred. The man liked spicy coffee, which really wasn’t all that much of a surprise to her, though she couldn’t help but pick on him for his enjoyment of it. There was always the retaliation that she was a freak for liking straight black coffee, which was just as bitter as her personality.

‘That’s okay,’ Koge would always tell him, sly grin on her face. ‘You’re married to me, so you must like my bitter personality.’

Sipping on the hot bitterness from her cup, Koge continued down the sidewalk after her purchase, her body warmed by the drink. She wasn’t the only one to relish in the joy, however, as there was a series of movements from her swollen abdomen. “Oof, chill out there, girl.” Koge whispered quietly to the frozen air. “You always get way too excited when I drink coffee.” Rounding a corner, Koge’s gaze was pulled towards the large building across the street at the end of the block.

Damn, it was ugly. A huge, industrial style with very few windows, and it almost made Koge think that it had popped right out of a post-apocalyptic movie. The thing looked like it could withstand a bomb, with thick dark grey concrete, pipes and steel decorating the exterior. Yes, it was architecturally brilliant, but that didn’t make Koge thing it was any less ugly. Still, it was noticeable, recognizable and marketed perfectly for who worked inside. This had been the first time she had seen this new building, as her lover had just finished construction of this new firm headquarters and moved his entire team just a week ago.

After carefully crossing the street, Koge made her way to what she assumed was the entrance, noticing the two guards standing outside chatting. They seemed quite lax, something that Koge knew Bakugou might snap at them about, but she decided to keep it to herself. Conversation coming to a halt as she approached, one guard whom she was familiar with gave her a welcoming smile. Although this middle aged man had a kind face, Koge had seen him take down people with no mercy or hesitation. She liked him enough, and if Bakugou trusted him, then she could as well.

“Hello, Koge! Come to see the new building, eh?” He held out his hand, not in a way to shake hands, but was silently asking for her ID. Koge nodded, handing both of the coffee cups out towards the other guard, who took them from her. “Hold those, please? And yeah, it’s finally my day off so I can come see it.” After digging through her pocket, she removed her wallet and fished out her ID, giving it to the waiting man before her. He took it, turning on a small flashlight and shining it on the plastic.

“How’s the kiddo?”

“Ah, he’s with his grandparents today. The other is still latched to me.” Koge patted her swollen belly gently, waiting patiently for the return of her ID. With a small chuckle, the guard handed it back to her, turning off his flashlight and placing it back into his pocket. “Not for too much longer. Head on in, I think he’s in his office on the top floor. If not his secretary will tell you.” While Koge put her ID away, he flashed a badge to a sensor on the wall, the large glass doors sliding open with a beep. Koge took her coffee back, heading inside after thanking the two men.

Ooh, secretary. How spoiled. But, he deserves it. He’s worked so hard to get to this point, and so quickly, too. He’s only twenty-seven and his hero firm has grown this huge! I’m so proud of him.

Much to her surprise, the inside of the building was a much more modern industrial style than the outside, with polished concrete and stylish brick walls. The furniture in the lobby matched the style, with red, orange and army green accents. How cute, he sure did decide to keep to his brand. I love it.

After a quick trip up the elevator, Koge followed the signs to Bakugou’s office. Before she could get in, she found she had to stop at a large desk, with three women sitting behind it, all doing computer work. Only gaining the attention of one of them when she approached the desk, she had to stand up on her toes to see the woman better. “Hi, I’m here to see Katsuki?”

The woman had visible surprise on her face at the use of Bakugou’s first name, cocking her head to the side a bit. “I’m sorry, but he’s in a meeting at this time with his Public Relations Manager. Were you… Did you have a meeting with him as well?”

Koge felt a twinge of annoyance at the mention of the PR person, giving a small cough to clear her throat. “I’m his wife. He’s expecting me.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but--”

“Yeah, no buts. Buzz me in, please.” Koge started towards the large doors that she assumed were the entrance, stopping at them when they still did not open. She glared over her shoulder at the women, who were glancing between themselves in confusion. “Buzz me in. Believe me, he likes me a lot more than caring about the slight inconvenience it would take to replace you.”

The woman that had spoken to her first gave a small cough to clear her throat, trying to stay firm. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but his Public Relations Manager stated that they should not be disturbed.”

Koge gave an annoyed click of her tongue. “I’m sure she did. You’re really going to fight with me on this one, huh?” Placing both cups of coffee down on a small decorative table that rested at the edge of the doors, she pulled out her phone.

Me 3:32 PM: Your little brats out here won’t let me in. They say your PR lady told them to not let anyone in.

Within the minute, the doors opened, an obviously annoyed Bakugou standing in the doorway. His glare was immediately locked on the women at the desk, who shifted about nervously in their chairs. The main one spoke up, quickly standing to show him respect. “I-I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that Ms. Ito--”

“I don’t care what she said. I gave you permission to let this woman in, did I not?” Bakugou approached Koge, noticing the coffee and picking it up for her. “Yours?” He addressed her directly, his expression softening. Koge smiled, giving a small nod. “And yours.”

The woman at the desk he had addressed gave a low bow. “I’m sorry, Sir! It won’t happen again!” Bakugou started back through the large doors, Koge at his heels. “We’ll discuss it later.” Koge didn’t have time to see the reactions of the women as the doors snapped shut behind them, looking up at her lover curiously. “Are they new?”

Bakugou sighed, giving a nod as they made their way down a small hallway, which displayed his awards, trophies, paper certificates and permits. “Yes. Well, a few months at least. But they are scared of Ito. Everyone here thinks she’s vice president or some shit when she’s literally only the PR person. Irritates me.” In his frustration, he brought up one of the cups of coffee, taking a sip before Koge could tell him it was the wrong one. The cringe that crossed his features as he swallowed the bitter black water made her giggle, and he quickly handed the cup to her. “Ugh, fuck that shit is gross!”

Laughing, Koge took the cup, watching as he downed a large gulp of his coffee to rid himself of the taste. “Aw, it is not. Yours is the one that’s gross.” Bakugou shook his head, giving a satisfied hum. “No way, it’s good. Thanks.” He held the ID that hung around his neck up to a sensor, the door opening for them. Once open, Koge’s gaze immediately landed on the obviously flustered woman that stood beside a large dry erase board, impatiently tapping her foot.

Koge couldn’t believe how much she wanted to kick this womans ass, just from looking at her. Sure, she knew that anyone who worked so directly with Bakugou needed to be strong willed and stubborn, but this woman wasn’t just that. She truly was the definition of a bitch.

“Sir, please, this really can’t wait.” Ito addressed Bakugou the instant he returned, pointing a marker to the board to bring attention to her writing. “I need you to approve these appointments so that I can get them paid for and scheduled.” Bakugou sighed, placing his coffee down on his desk before glaring at the annoying white board that he hated. “Why do you have to bring that stupid board in here? I hate looking at things on it, why can’t you just give it to me digitally.”

“This is the best way for me to explain myself to you, and I can easily put posters or flyers on the back side for you to see. It’s not the same when looking at them digitally.” The woman adjusted her glasses, tapping the board with her marker. “Just come read these ideas and let me know what you think.”

Koge read the information on the board as she removed her outer layers of clothing, setting them down on a couch against the wall. “He said that he would prefer the information digitally. Don’t you think you should listen to your boss?” Ito shot a sharp glare at her, tapping her nails against the plastic of the marker in her hand. “I know what works best for him, I’ve been doing this job for ten years, three of them being for this firm. I’d appreciate you keeping your comments to yourself.”

Bakugou shared a glance with Koge that told her to keep it down, to which she begrudgingly agreed with a huff. Arms crossing over her chest, she let them rest on her swollen belly, making her way closer to Bakugou’s desk as he read aloud what was on the board.

“Poster series… Blankets and shit…. More magazine stuff? No--” Bakugou shook his head, moving around the desk to his chair. “After the last magazine shoot, I don’t want to do that shit again.” He pulled the chair out from under the desk, motioning for Koge to sit. She did so happily, leaning back in the plush leather that comfortably supported her aching back. “Oh god, that last magazine thing was terrible! When they were done it didn’t even look like him.” Koge reached up to take his hand gently, which he allowed. “He looked better in the one before that, but… It was so saucy we couldn’t even show our son, who has been excited that his dad is in magazines since he knew what they were.”

Ito cleared her throat, removing Koge’s chance to speak again. “The last magazine was a huge hit. Another series is in serious demand, the public want more of that content.” Koge narrowed her eyes, a bit suspicious of this. “The public… or women? You do realize that Katsuki’s main demographic is teenage and young adult males, right?”

“The men go for the interviews and the women go for the pictures. If it makes money and doesn’t ruin his image, than it works.” Ito grabbed the top of the whiteboard, pulling it down so that the other side was visible. Koge let out a sharp laugh, annoyed and amused at the mock posters and photographs taped to the board. “Doesn’t ruin his image? Do you even realize how those types of things make him look?” With quite a bit of effort, she stood, waddling her way towards the board to see the images better.

Bakugou took her place in the chair, rubbing his temple. “Koge, it’s alright, it does work.” With a shake of her head, his lover pointed to one of the posters that had him displayed in a provocative pose, with just his mask on as the image stopped right at his hips. “No. This doesn’t even look like you at all. Look how skinny! You’re not thin like that.”

“What? I’m not fat—“

“That’s not what I’m saying! You’re… you’re buff Katsuki, you’re not a rail like this. I’m not saying you’re fat. But you’re body doesn’t look like this.” Koge looked up at Ito, the woman towering over her. “Why do you let them photoshop him so much?”

Ito gave a small huff, looking away from Koge, as if she were an eyesore. “I have no control over what the magazine company wants to do.”

“Not true, you have to approve it, like you are now. Katsuki, you haven’t noticed that?” Koge looked over towards her husband, who looked like he was about to throw them both out. “I don’t usually give a shit. I don’t notice how much they change me, if they do.”

“They do. I don’t know why they would. This is so much better.” Koge moved her finger to another poster, of Bakugou in mid battle. “This is how he should look. All scuffed up, angry and strong. He’s not a little sissy boy.”

Ito shook her head, pointing to a number above the sexier poster. “Look at this number, it’s higher than the one for that poster. That means that this style is more sought after—“

“By that demographic. By young adult women and teenage girls.” Koge made her way back over to Bakugous desk, opening a marketing binder that rested there. “You have numbers in here I’m sure and percentages based on different groups of people…” Bakugou watched her, but didn’t intervene. “Hm, you’re right, Koge. I’m pretty sure that eighty seven percent of my fan base isn’t into that shit.”

“They’re not! They can’t be—“ Koge was cut off by Ito snatching the binder back, holding it to her chest. “That’s company data! You can’t look at this.”

“I’ll have you know she can.” Bakugou snapped back. “Who do you think helps me with numbers and making decisions? I trust her more than a room of CEO air heads any day. Show her your numbers, I’m interested in what she’s talking about.”

“But Sir—“

“Fine, then let me see them.” He held his hand out towards her, to which Ito reluctantly handed the binder over. Bakugou flipped though it for a minute as Koge came around the desk to join him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I’m pretty positive that data is being pulled from demographic percentages depending on age, gender and location. Here, see.” Koge put an accusing finger on a chart. “Eighty seven percent of women from age sixteen to twenty three want more of that photoshop nonsense. But that age group is only thirty something percent of your fan base.”

Koge gave Ito a glance, noticing that she wasn’t going to give in to this. “I think you’re trying to cater to a group of people that doesn’t really matter all that much. Or maybe…” She placed her hand on the top of Bakugou’s head, ruffling his hair gently. “Maybe to things that you want to see, huh?” Ito’s face instantly flushed red. “What?! Who do you think you are, to say something like that to me! That is absolutely ridiculous!”

“I don’t think it is. I think you’re taking advantage of his ignorance when it comes to the marketing side of his brand. That’s why he hired you, because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He may be smart, but he has no time to deal with that type of nonsense.” Koge moved her hand down to Bakugou’s back, a bit surprised that he was so quiet about all of this. “You say you know what’s best for him? You aren’t even listening to what he wants, what he likes, or even what the majority of his demographic wants.”

Heading back to the board, Koge pointed at the image of him in battle. “Look at this. Look at how both sexy and strong he looks. His body is completely unedited, his costume is a bit ripped in places. He’s sweaty and grungy and that glare is enough to make the ladies need to change their underwear. But that is a woman looking at it. A man, or a young boy aspiring to be a hero, would look at this and think, he looks so cool. So badass. So strong. Okay sure, some men might fight him sexy and a lot of women will find him powerful.” She shared an amused glance with her lover, who only glared at her with his ears red in embarrassment.

“You release that?” She gestured to the more sexual image, disgust crossing her features. “You’re only going to hit a small percentage of his fan base. But this?” Again, she slapped her entire palm over the more powerful poster. “You release this and you will hit everyone. Because this is sexy and powerful. If you respected him and his image, you wouldn’t be making him do the sex appeal thing.” Koge let out a long breath, feeling a bit winded from her ranting. “He might be attractive, but not in that type of way. That’s more of a pretty-boy type of thing.”

Ito shook her head, hands firmly on her hips. “I don’t agree. I think you just don’t want your husband half naked out for the world to see.” Koge sputtered an amused laugh, both hands on her stomach as the child inside wiggled about. “Listen lady, I could care less what other women see of him. Because only I get the full show. Get it? That man on the poster isn’t even my Katsuki. It’s a fake. Where are his scars? They even smoothed out some of the muscle lines to make him look less muscular!” Koge glared up at the taller women, who finally seemed on the edge of breaking.

“You have no right to come in here and criticize me for doing my job.”

“But you’re not doing your job. You know, I don’t like you.” Koge made her way back over to Bakugou, who stood and once again gave her his chair to sit, which she accepted gladly. “Ever since Katsuki hired you. For petty things at first, like at one point I was really upset that you and him were constantly going on trips. I was jealous that you got to see him all the time when I didn’t. But now, I just realize that you’re awful.” She took a sip of her coffee, glad to see that it was still warm. “It’s so obvious that you’re taking advantage of his ignorance of what needs to be done for his image. I’m not going to let you do that to him.”

Ito was red faced now, completely flustered and embarrassed at being called out. Koge didn’t care. But, she also didn’t want to cause discourse in Bakugous firm.

“But… I will admit that on the things that don’t involve him with his tits out, you do very well. The meet ‘n greets, the autographs, his book, his interviews, they’re all fantastic. So you do know how to do your job. I truly think that this is just a hiccup driven by personal desire.” Koge closed the binder in front of her, pushing it back over towards Ito, who was staring at Koge in surprise.

“You can have a crush on my husband all you want.” Koge spoke quite curt, planning on getting her point across the first time. “But you won’t have him. So if that was your goal, this little sexy series? I truly hope it stops here. Every once in a while, sure, let him model underwear for an ad because he’s got a nice butt. I won’t be quiet the next time I see him being degraded like that.” She looked up at Bakugou, who was staring down at her with intense focus. She gave him a small smile, effectively breaking him out of his daze. “Do you agree with me, Katsuki?”

Bakugou turned his crimson glare to Ito, who was standing there red faced and leaking guilt. “This is something I just didn’t even notice… I just thought it was all normal, I hear about that half and half bastard doing this shit, and even Deku.” Koge nodded, opening one of his drawers to peek into it curiously. “Mhmm, but that’s a part of their look. Of their brand. They’re pretty boys. You are raw power, Katsuki. Believe me, women find that just as attractive as your fake photoshopped abs.” She pulled out a stress ball that resembled his gauntlets, beginning to squeeze it and pass it between both hands. “I love these. Another good decision you helped make, Ito.”

Ito only gave a small nod. “I won’t let it happen again. But… these are already almost finished contracts. We can’t back out of them, now, these companies will never work with us again.” Bakugou sighed, moving to stroke Koge’s hair gently as he thought. Then, as she looked up at him, an idea crossed his mind.

“Koge. We’ve never done anything, have we?”

“Eh?” Koge felt a bit of heat rush to her cheeks, giving a small shake of her head. “N-no…” Bakugou looked back over towards Ito, nodding to motion her to come over. “Change the contacts, to do do a family shoot and interviews.” Koge took his hand, a bit of worry creasing her brow. “Are you sure? Is that safe?”

“No one knows where we live, not even the people that work here. I want to do it, with you and Matsu.” He held her hand tightly, the excited interest on his face filling Koge’s stomach with butterflies. Smiling she kissed the back of his hand. “Okay. Let’s do it, then.”

As Ito came up to take her binder, Bakugou put his hand on it, stopping her. “Make it happen, Ito. Though, we will have to discuss your behavior further. I can’t just let it go.” Ito nodded, taking her binder when Bakugou released it. “Yes, sir. I’ll have the contact sent to you digitally for review. Thank you for… not firing me right off the bat.”

“I wouldn’t want him to fire you.” Koge spoke up, catching the womans attention. “Like I said, you do your job well. All of this that he has is with your help. But you gotta stop the thirst.”

“Y-yes, Ma’am. I don’t want to be rude, but… for someone so small, you’re kind of scary.”

“I’m married to Katsuki. I have to be a little scary, right?”

“I suppose…” With another bow, the woman left with her dry erase board in tow, the wheels making an annoying squeak as they rolled. When she was finally gone, Koge sighed, turning the chair to face Bakugou. “Holy shit, Katsuki, what was that creature.”

Bakugou scoffed, leaning over the chair a bit, gripping the arm rests for support. “Utsuro, that is what is known as a woman with a huge crush on the big boss who’s married and is still trying to get into his pants.”

“She’s icky. I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“You were right, though. Thanks.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head, moving his hands to caress her belly. “How’s she?” Koge placed her hands over his, smile crossing her lips. “She’s great, Katsuki. She’s been a little wiggly thing all day, though.” Bakugou nodded, able to feel the child against his palms. “It’s because you’re all worked up. How about a tour?”

“I’d like that, Katsuki. After a kiss. Or two.”

“Or ten.”

“You know me too well.”

#bnha writing blog #bnha scenarios #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha #my hero academia #fanfiction #oc #original character #koge #cutesuki scenarios #personal writing

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i-am-too-sick · 5 years

Text

A Fateful Encounter

@nerdlycharming and I have a separate canonverse where my Quinn and his OC Michael are dating in college. We had never talked about how the two of them met, so we decided to brainstorm and came up with this. We hope you enjoy!

Word count: ~6400

Quinn closed his eyes to give the words a moment to stop swimming across the page. He'd heard stories of freshers flu before, but he hadn't really thought anything of it until he found himself completely blindsided by it. Now, he huddled over himself for warmth, wracked by shivering chills that seemed to zap the heat from his body, regardless of the number of blankets or layers of clothing he wore. His body ached something fierce and he spent most of his waking moments blowing his nose or trying to keep his lungs from leaping out his throat.

Despite how awful he felt, he left his campus dorm anyway, desperate to leave behind the roommate that was threatening to drive him mad. Quinn was half convinced he was a drug dealer and that the shady people who visited from time to time were his customers. He kept odd hours, and during the time that Quinn tried to sleep, his roommate banged loudly around the building, playing the drums or having raucous, drunken parties in the hallway.

At least the library was quiet, Quinn thought, opening his eyes and giving a liquid sniffle. Between the sneezing and the coughing that threatened to turn into gagging, Quinn had already chased away the other students who'd been sitting at his table. He didn't blame them, and it gave him the opportunity to spread his belongings across the table, though now he was fighting the urge to lay his head on his backpack and take a nap. He wasn't making any headway in his studying anymore, and his head was absolutely pounding. He felt like garbage, but he refused to go back to his dorm. He'd already been at the library for hours, and it felt like the only thing he'd accomplished was feeling progressively worse. Coughing chestily into the crook of his elbow, he flipped the page in his textbook and tried again to make sense of the content, fully resigned to his fate.

Michael, a rather shy boy that worked at the library, noticed Quinn coming in, smiling and waving at him when he did. He always did. He hoped the other boy would think he was just friendly instead of the real reason behind his friendliness. Michael thought the studious boy he saw so frequently, was very cute!

Today though, the brunette didn't wave back, he just sulked over to his usual spot and flopped down into a chair. Michael frowned, feeling anxious, thinking maybe he'd done something wrong. As the night dragged on, though, he was becoming more and more worried about the cute stranger with all his coughing and sneezing. Finally he could take it no more and he cautiously walked up to him with a cup of tea (something they sold there for about $0.50 at the counter) and a box of tissues.

With him being so sick, Quinn’s senses were completely dulled. It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize someone was talking to him. He looked up blearily at the stranger—someone who seemed vaguely familiar to him, but possibly because Quinn had seen him around campus. It was hard to trust his own thoughts with his head as muddled as it was.

Before he had a chance to question the stranger’s intentions, or ask him where he got that steaming cup of whatever it was, because Quinn was certain the drink could warm him from the inside while the steam cleared away some of his congestion, he was caught off guard by a fierce tickle in his sinuses. He released two sneezes in quick succession, one nearly stifled while the other was powerful and loud and made his head spin.

“I’b sorry,” he muttered congestedly, reaching without thinking for the tissues and noisily blowing his nose.

Michael had winced at the loudness of the boy’s actions, but more out of sympathy than anything else. “Bless you!” He said at once. “No need to apologise, but...maybe you could be resting?” He suggested politely, worry seeping into his voice.

“I’b okay,” Quinn said, depositing his used tissue into the front pocket of his coat. It was nearly overflowing as it was, the travel pack of tissues he'd brought along with him quickly used up in the time he'd been trying to study.

He knew he sounded anything but fine, probably looked it too, but he also didn't want to unload all his troubles on someone he didn't even know. It was also silly to admit that, only after the first couple of weeks into the semester, Quinn didn't get along with his roommate, and was thus left to attempt to be productive in his studies and ride out his illness in the library.

The bespectacled stranger readjusted his glasses with a small frown. “Must be an important test then?” He inquired, gesturing to Quinn's messy workspace. Michael took a seat across from him, too worried now about the cute stranger to simply go back to work. He only had an hour left anyway and he was sure his boss wouldn't mind.

“You seem...motivated.” He didn't want to say he didn't, he was clearly determined at least. It was obvious too, though, that Michael didn't truly believe that.

Quinn nodded. His eyes were bleary and it looked like it had been a long time since he'd truly been able to focus them on what he was reading. “I wad’t to get id the ndursing program. Ugh, excuse mbe…”

Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box, Quinn pressed them to his nose and blew hard. He hoped to lessen some of the congestion from his voice so he could at least be understandable, but the paper irritated his nose and he ducked his head into his elbow to bury another sneeze. The stifle sent a wave of dizziness over him, forcing him to close his eyes and inhale deeply to regain his bearings.

“A-are you sure you're alright?” Michael cleared his throat and continued, “forgive me for saying so, you really don't look well and surely a future nursing student would know he's unwell?” He asked, wondering why the wouldn't just go home? He looked like he could barely keep his head up.

Quinn propped his cheek up with his hand. “My roommate and I don't always see eye-to-eye,” he said, surprising himself with how much better he could articulate. “I could probably get more sleep laying out on a bench in the middle of the quad.”

Suddenly feeling tired, he let out a bone-weary sigh, his breath catching in his throat and causing him to cough. He tilted his chin toward the untouched cup of hot tea in the other’s hands. “Any idea where I can get me one of those? I'm craving something warm.”

Michael looked down at his hands, seeming a bit surprised. “Oh! I got it for you! I thought your throat might hurt because of the coughing,” he explained as he handed it over to him. He blushed now, thinking maybe that sounded dumb. “I uh…” He felt awkward, unsure if he should get up and stop bothering him now. “I'm sorry about your roommate, mine dropped out.”

He couldn't handle feeling this awkward though so he stood up. “But I uh, I guess I should let you get back to work if you don't wanna go home, I just wanted to give you the tea and tissues…” He tucked some of his slightly messy hair behind his ears and tired to leave.

“You don't have to,” Quinn said. He was distracted by the warmth he could feel leaking into his fingertips from the paper cup. He hadn't realized how hard he'd been shivering until he held something warm in his hands. “I mean, you can if you want, but I wouldn't mind if you stayed.”

For the first time, Quinn looked up at the stranger and smiled. It was a small, tired smile, but he hoped it got his point across. Quinn hadn't made a single friend since the semester started, and it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if he was sure he wasn't very good company himself right now. He didn't like to admit it, but he was also feeling a little homesick. “I'm Quinn, by the way.”

To Quinn's relief, the other boy smiled and sat back down. “Michael. Nice to officially met you, Quinn.” He was blushing but he hoped Quinn wouldn't notice. “I see you in here all the time, you always seem very focused on your studies.”

Quinn sighed again. “There's only 120 spots in the nursing program, and there's about 700 of us trying to get in now.” He took a sip of tea, glad for the warmth, but wincing at how painful it was to swallow. “By the end of next semester, my GPA has to be pretty near perfect,” he explained. “I don't have time to be sick.”

Michael understood that, even if he wasn't under the same kind of pressure. He loved nurses, he owed them so much in his life. Having had cancer as a child, they always tried their best to help him and the other kids at the children's hospital feel better. Memories flooded around in his head and he smiled, chuckling at them before clearing his throat.

“That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself, you must really want to be a nurse? Or do you need that programme to get into medical school to be a doctor?” He asked. “In any case though, with all the studying you do, I'm sure your grades wouldn't suffer from a few days of rest?”

“I don't want to take that chance,” Quinn said, shaking his head. He'd always been a diligent student and had worked himself ragged before, but never while also being sick. This was a whole new monster—he'd never felt this exhausted before. “I don't want to end up falling behind.”

He coughed into another wad of crumpled up tissues, his cheeks reddening and his eyes watering at the strain. “I've wanted this for as long as I can remember.” He paused, clearing his throat. “My mom is an orthopedic surgeon and my brother basically spent his childhood in and out of the hospital. I guess you could say I come from a medical background. Getting into this program is important to me.” He felt like he was rambling, but the words kept pouring out of him, and if he wasn't so sick, maybe he'd feel guilty about unloading all his problems on someone he'd only just met.

Michael smiled at him, it was admirable indeed, even if he was perhaps pushing himself too hard. He considered mentioning his childhood but decided against it. He hated how people treated him after they found out. They always either treated him like he was fragile or like he was a walking miracle or something, so he bit his tongue.

“I can see why it's so important to you then.” Michael agreed, though he certainly still seemed worried and hesitant. “So, do you have a test coming up?” He could see how tired Quinn was and he wished he could do something for him. Before his roommate dropped out he hadn't gotten along with him either so he definitely understood the trouble with that. Still, Quinn definitely needed to be resting instead of studying -- which he clearly wasn't able to do much of as he kept zoning out and he was having trouble even focusing on Michael's face for more than a few seconds at a time.

Quinn shook his head. Talking to Michael had been a good distraction for a while, but he could feel himself fading fast. He was probably going to have to call it quits and head home soon. “Not until next month,” his replied, voice hoarse and weary. He sniffled, trying to stave off another sneeze. “I want to stay ahead…”

Michael adjusted his glasses, having to bite back the urge to lecture him. He didn't actually know him, especially not well enough to be allowed to criticise or anything. Still, he thought it was at least a good idea to urge him to go home and rest.

“I'm sorry, but do you realise how ridiculous that sounds?” He cringed, that had been far less subtle and smooth than he intended it to be. “Sorry, I just mean to say that you seem really unwell and you can hardly focus anyway. I know we don't know each other, not really, but you seem quite intelligent and you're certainly dedicated. If the test isn't for another month, then one night without studying so hard and resting instead would be just fine. If you don't rest, you'll just get worse!” He reasoned, scooting back in his seat again to leave. “Plus, if you're really that worried about it, I'll even help you study when you're better! I mean, look where I work?” He gestured around him with a smile. “But you gotta go home and rest or the deal is off!” He winked at him and stood again, clearly he wasn't going to give up this time.

Quinn blinked. He wasn't quite taken aback by Michael's declaration, but it seemed like he was speaking much too fast for Quinn's muddled brain to process. He composed himself quickly enough and flashed Michael another tired smile. “Thanks,” he said, beginning to collect his things and packing them away. Michael was right about one thing—his focus was definitely slipping, and Michael's voice sounded strange in his ears, though Quinn suspected that was merely because of the congestion. “I hadn't realized you worked here. I haven't been keeping you, have I?”

That earned a small chuckle from the other boy. “No no, I needed to straighten up back here anyway.” He assured him, helping him gather his things. “But yeah, I'll help you study when you feel better, just ask for me at the desk if you don't see me round.” He handed over the last of Quinn's books with a smile, he too had had a great deal of trouble making friends and he finally made one! He was almost certain.

“I guess I should get going now,” Quinn said, as though it wasn't already obvious that he was packing up to leave. “It's pretty late. Thanks for the tissues and the drink—oh, and for listening to me babble. Guess I'll be seeing you…”

He was met with a tidal wave of lightheadedness once he found his feet, and before he could do anything to remedy the feeling, his eyes rolled back and he exhaled softly, his body listing sideways.

Michael laughed quietly, “It's no trouble, re-” his sentence died immediately as he watched in slow motion as his new friend’s body went slack. He felt his own body move without his instruction -- in the blink of an eye he was holding Quinn in his arms, gently guiding them both down to the floor.

The heat coming off the pale boy in his arms was all at once incredible and frightening. He was unsure if he cried out before or not but now he looked around finding them to be alone still and him completely unsure of what to do. “Q-Quinn?” That's what he'd said, wasn't it? It was suddenly hard to think with panic now making his thoughts shake and fall away before he could even grab them. “Quinn? Please- Please, wake up!” He begged in a shaky voice.

Despite the presumably high fever, Quinn's body trembled fiercely in Michael's arms. His cheeks were painted a bright crimson and his breathing was ragged. Michael watched in silent horror as his eyelids gave the occasional flutter, but much to his dismay, Quinn remained unconscious.

He decided to pull out his phone and call his manager, not wanting to make a scene. He didn't want to take Quinn to the hospital, for one he couldn't drive, but he also didn't know if Quinn had insurance, or his last name for that matter. Just as his boss was walking over he decided what he would do.

His boss agreed with him and called a cab for them, helping Michael carry the semi-conscious young man out to the car once it had arrived.

Quinn wasn't totally out anymore but he wasn't really helpful either. Michael had tried to get his address from him or really information at all and had come up empty. He gave the driver his own address instead and sat back, anxiously holding Quinn upright in his arms. A total stranger. What would his mum say?

He looked at his sickly new friend and decided he didn't care what his parents would say about it. He couldn't just leave him to fend for himself and besides, he had a good feeling about Quinn.

“Just hang in there, you'll be okay, I promise.” Michael whispered to him.

Once they got to his dorm he paid the driver and gave a quick thanks before getting out, hoisting Quinn up, piggy-back style and slowly making his way into the building and to the elevator. It was a struggle the entire way and he still wasn't sure how he'd managed to unlock his front door but they made it!

He gently guided Quinn down onto his beat up couch and sighed, rubbing his shoulders as he stared at him. He wasn't terribly sure what he should do now but eventually he decided on the basics. He stripped Quinn of his coat and shoes, draping a light throw over him - an ultra fluffy Pokemon blanket his mother got him for Christmas a few years prior. He went for a cool cloth, bathing his skin before wetting it again and laying it on his brow. He grabbed a few items that they would need eventually, but all he could do now was make himself some tea, grab a book and wait. He knew he wouldn't be able to focus much, but he couldn't very well just stare at the poor guy.

Nearly half an hour since Michael had laid him on the couch, Quinn began to stir. He coughed weakly, his eyelids finally fluttering open. He tried to lift his head to have a look around, but it seemed he didn't have the strength even for that.

The feel of the couch beneath him confused him, as he and his roommate hardly had furniture aside from their own beds, and the blanket covering him now was unrecognizable. “Where…?” he murmured, too tired, it seemed, to even finish the question.

Michael, just finally having managed to get into his book, startled slightly. His head snapped in the direction of the sound immediately and had him rushing to his feet.

He smiled down at him, a casual but honest smile. “Hey, easy, don't try and get up or anything just yet.” He said as he took the cool rag and dipped it back into the bowl of water on the side table, replacing it after ringing it out a bit.

“You passed out in the library, I didn't know where you lived or what do really at all so I brought you to my dorm instead, I hope that's okay?” Michael seemed rather timid again, his anxiety shining through. Whatever progress they had made before was lost now. He seemed a bit shook up still over what had happened.

“C-can I get you anything? I c-can call someone if you need to, to come get you if you don't.. Don't want to stay…?” He seemed so unsure of himself, but at the same time he seemed earnest and kind.

Quinn missed more than half of Michael's explanation, but somehow, it was comforting just hearing his voice, even if Michael did sound absolutely terrified. He closed his eyes again and sighed, his breath rattling some in his chest and producing a short bout of coughs.

Shivering, he curled up with the blanket, pulling it up toward his chin. He mumbled something unintelligible, his words dying as he seemed to be falling asleep.

That was a good enough indication to Michael, that Quinn didn't mind his actions and perhaps didn't mind staying.

Michael decided after that interaction that he'd sit beside him on the floor and read until he woke up next. Hopefully he'd feel okay enough to actually have a conversation with him.

He couldn't stop thinking about the idea he'd had since Quinn first mentioned his roommate. He'd yet to mention his idea, or figure out how to bring it up, but it was there, swirling around in his mind forming into a proper plan.

Quinn slept long and hard, but mostly it was restless. His body cycled through chills and sweats, and on a few occasions, he even whimpered softly.

When he did finally open his eyes, he found himself alone in an unfamiliar place. He vaguely remembered someone speaking to him before, and he called out, the one name he recalled finding its way off the tip of his tongue. “Michael?” His voice was weak and tired, but he sounded much more coherent than he'd been before.

There was a stirring on the floor and soon a very tired looking Michael made his way into Quinn's line of sight. “Sorry, must have dozed off a bit.” He apologised with a yawn but smiled at him anyway. “You sound a bit better, coherent at least.” He teased with a light chuckle. “How are you feeling?” He asked, again wetting and replacing the rag.

He didn't know exactly what time it was and he also didn't know what, if anything Quinn had actually understood and retained from his earlier explanation, so he thought it could be repeated. “You're in my dorm, yeah? You couldn't answer before, but is there anyone you want me to call?” He asked, quickly adding in a panic, “I don't mind you staying of course! I just...I wanted you to be comfortable?”

Quinn's lips twitched in to what could have been a tiny semblance of a smile. “I'll stay, if that's all right,” he added. It wasn't really like he had anyone to call, and he was grateful for Michael's invitation. “What happened? I don't remember anything after the library…”

He seemed to have just realized that Michael had been asleep on the floor only moments ago. It had to be late, if not already early into the next morning, and he felt guilty for taking up so much of his new friend’s time. “Sorry. You can tell me later. You must be tired.”

To his surprise Michael just smiled more and went right on explaining. “My boss called a cab and we- he more or less carried you out to the car and I had him being us here.” He left out the part about the piggy-back ride, figuring he didn't need quite all the details just yet. “If you want, you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch.” He offered.

Quinn's eyes widened. “What? No, I couldn't do that. I've been enough trouble already.” He didn't mention that his body was so heavy and achy, he didn't think he could get up right now if he wanted to. “Go ahead and take the bed. I'll be fine out here. You deserve to rest after looking after me.” He didn't want to think about what would have happened if Michael never sat down with him at the table. Maybe he'd still be passed out in the back of the library.

He watched as Michael frowned slightly and shook his head. “Really, you're not a bother at all.” Michael assured. He began looking a bit shy though and added in a much quieter voice. “It's kinda nice to have some company actually, all things considered. See, I haven't had much luck making friends or anything yet. I didn't know college could feel so lonely…” He seemed to realise that he'd just spilled out some pretty personal information and looked embarrassed.

“Sorry uh...I must be tired, I'm rambling. Do you need anything before I turn in? I gotta shower still but I'm just the door on the left there,” he said as he pointed to his room, “and the bathroom is on the right.”

Quinn hummed some form of acknowledgement. He felt all right for now, all things considered, but that might only have been because he was finally able to get some much needed sleep. “Can I borrow another blanket? And maybe get something to drink?”

His voice was small, like maybe he worried Michael would tell him no. Quinn had a propensity for running terribly high fevers and had woken up to find himself in the hospital or sitting in lukewarm bath water on more than one occasion. Michael didn't know this, of course, and Quinn wanted to convince himself that one more blanket wasn't anymore risk than not taking medicine, which was also something he hadn't done since that morning.

Michael nodded with a smile, going off to grab an extra comforter from his closet and returned. He didn't give it to him, though, remembering the incredible heat from before.

“Uh...hold on, I think we should check your temperature first and have you take some medicine.” He said with a worried expression. “I don't want your fever to get as high as before, it felt like I could burn my skin on yours before.”

Quinn's arm had been outstretched to receive the blanket, but as Michael spoke, he lowered it slowly, clutching at the blanket he already had. He wrinkled his nose, frowning. He wasn't upset, and actually, taking his temperature was probably a good idea, but after everything Michael had told him, Quinn could only assume his temperature was going to read high. “Okay,” he relented.

Michael was looking around for the supplies before Quinn had even agreed, quickly finding the thermometer and awkwardly handing it to Quinn. He left Quinn's sight for a moment before returning with a glass of ice water.

Quinn found it endearing how shy and kind Michael was. He watched as Michael shook some Advil out of the bottle and set them down on the table.

“Well? What's the damage?” Michael asked with a wave of his hand, towards the thermometer.

A thought had crossed Quinn's mind when he'd first slipped the thermometer under his tongue, and for some reason, he couldn't get himself to stop thinking about it. At some point, this same thermometer had probably also been in Michael's mouth. The thought made Quinn blush, though he couldn't fathom why.

“What? Oh,” he stammered, Michael's voice pulling him out of his thoughts, “it's 101.9.”

“No wonder you felt so awful,” Michael reasoned, replacing the rag again. “That's pretty high for having a cool rag on your head as long as you have.” He seemed pretty worried, biting his nails with anxiety. “Maybe a light blanket is best? Oh!” He nearly dove for the Advil he'd set out. “Don't forget these!”

Quinn felt bad about making Michael worry like this, especially when Quinn barely seemed bothered about it at all. Of course, he'd lived with the knowledge his whole life, and right now, his fever wasn't yet high enough for anything drastic.

“It was probably higher before,” he reasoned, tiredly. He took the pills from Michael and swallowed them dry, wincing as they slid down his throat. “Guess this isn't just a cold then.”

“I'd have to agree with you there.” Michael said before taking the comforter away and returning with a large, thin blanket that he tossed over Quinn's body. “So, you've had medicine and you've got a new blanket…” he was so frazzled by the entire situation he couldn't think if anything else was needed. He felt maybe he should apologise for how awkward he was but he was too embarrassed by it.

“I think I'm all set for my sleepover on the couch,” Quinn said, offering Michael what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He felt bad about putting Michael out like this, especially when he was being this much trouble and they barely knew each other. “You should get some sleep. I'm sure you've had a long day, even before all this.” He gestured lazily at himself.

This earned a genuine smile from Michael, “I suppose it was, but it was good I think, anyway, g'night...and I'm round the corner if you need me at all!” Then he turned and headed into the bathroom, shower sounding out only a few moments later.

Even after having slept, Quinn was still exhausted, and the soothing sound of falling water from the other room pulled continuously at his eyelids until his lashes touched. He heaved a sigh, prepared to settle in for the night. The couch wasn't that comfortable, considering his back already ached, but he didn't mind. It was peaceful here, unlike his own dorm, and Michael was proving himself to be a much more agreeable roommate.

Quinn coughed, feeling the rattling in his chest. He had a sinking feeling he'd be like this all night, and he prayed it didn't cause Michael anymore inconveniences tonight.

Michael checked on Quinn one last time before going to bed himself, giving the rag a final rinse and tucking the blanket back around him since he'd shrugged it off a bit in his sleep. He didn't feel bothered in the least bit but he was still worried about his new friend. He hoped Quinn would feel better in the morning. He had an offer for him.

The night passed uneventfully for Quinn. A few times he was startled awake by short-lived coughing fits, and once he even got up in search of tissues to blow his nose. When morning came, he was still coughing and achy, and he was certain he was still running a fever, but despite all that, he felt much more rested than he had the day before.

Before Michael came out of his bedroom,

Quinn forced himself up, folding the blanket he'd used and straightening out the cushions. That alone left him dizzy and breathless, so he sat there on the couch, shivering, but not wanting to use the blanket he'd already neatly set aside. He planned to wait for Michael to get up so he could thank him properly again before being on his way. He'd already been enough trouble for his new friend to last him a lifetime.

Michael came out dressed in Hufflepuff pajama pants and an oversized Hogwarts alumni long sleeve t-shirt, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve-paws and yawning. His slightly messy hair was even messier now but bedhead seemed to suit him nicely. “Did you sleep okay?” He asked upon seeing Quinn.

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly. “Could have been worse.” He turned and coughed into his elbow. His throat was raw and his voice was hoarse after a night of endless fits. “I hope I didn't keep you up…”

“No, no not at all.” Michael told him. He could see how sore Quinn was just by how he sat, but especially his throat given how he was rubbing it. “Would you like some tea and breakfast? I know you probably aren't hungry, but I can make you something if you are.” He was gesturing now to a small kitchen just beyond the wall the couch sat against. “Tea would really help your throat too.”

Quinn shook his head. “I should get going,” he said, wincing some as he spoke. Hot tea sounded amazing, and Michael was right in the fact that Quinn was definitely not hungry, but he'd already put his friend through enough trouble. “I appreciate the help, but I'm sure you've got other things to do and—” His words broke off as he turned and sneezed into his elbow.

Michael shook his head. “I don't work today and it's Saturday so there's no class.” He smiled at Quinn, handing him a tissue. “I was just gonna catch up on Doctor Who today.”

He was stalling now, he knew he was, he just couldn't get the courage to ask. He sighed and came to sit on the couch across from Quinn. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He began shyly, not exactly looking at Quinn but knowing he was looking at him.

“What do you mean?” Quinn asked. He took the tissue gratefully, his eyes glazing a bit as he blew his nose, the sound punctuated with another sneeze. His mind was cloudy, both from being half asleep and being sick, and he had a hard time forming a reason why Michael would want to talk to him. And why his friend seemed both nervous and serious sitting beside him on the couch.

“Well, I was just thinking, your home life must be pretty bad if you were that sick and avoiding it at the library?” He began, still shy and nervous. “You don't have to, but I wanted to offer...you could stay here?” He finally looked up at him again, that same shy smile on his lips, watching for Quinn's reaction.

“What? Why?” Quinn asked, confused. He honestly couldn't fathom why Michael wanted him around again. He felt a little overwhelmed. “You mean, like another day?” While Michael said he wasn't doing anything today, surely he was only saying that to make Quinn feel better, and Quinn didn't want to have to be looked after like he was some kind of invalid. He scrubbed his hands down his face, feeling conflicted.

“No, not just today.” Michael was becoming flustered due to Quinn's anxiety. “I mean...to be my roommate, but you don't have to!” He felt so disappointed but tried desperately not show it. That would probably only push him away.

Quinn kept his face buried in his hands. “I'm sorry,” he started. “My head’s spinning. This is a lot to take in right now.” It made him happy that Michael was willing to make this a more permanent situation, but Quinn still had a lot to consider. For one, the semester had already started and he didn't know the protocol for asking to switch dorms. Would he even be allowed to?

“Oh god, I didn't even think about it...I'm sorry.” Michael sounded pretty upset, but it was pretty clear it was with himself, not Quinn. “I didn't mean to stress you out more, I just… I figured this would be better than whatever was there? You really don't have to, but...you're welcomed to stay however long you like…” He stood up, preparing to make some tea and mentally kick himself in private.

Quinn felt Michael's weight lift from the couch, and he leaned back against the cushions. He let out an exhausted sigh and immediately proceeded to cough. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought to take medicine in his backpack when he went to the library yesterday.

When he could breathe again, he forced himself to his feet, swaying some, and went to meet Michael in the kitchen. “I didn't mean to sound ungrateful,” he rasped, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off a sudden onslaught of chills.

Michael nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when Quinn first spoke, and after Quinn apologised again for scaring him, he spoke. He wasn't exactly sure what to say but he didn't want Quinn to feel bad. “It's okay, really, I understand.” He promised, forcing a smile. “We just meet, I'd be wary too.” In Michael's mind, he figured that Quinn probably thought he was a total nutjob. After all, he'd basically kidnapped him.

Quinn wanted to assure him otherwise. “It's not that. I'm sure you'd be a great roommate. I just don't think I'm in the best place right now to be making rash decisions; maybe later when I don't feel like I've been steamrolled.” He owed it to Michael to be completely honest with him, and he offered him a tired smile. “The best I can do is tell you I'll think about it.”

It wasn't that he didn't want to. He'd consider moving back home if it got him out of his current living situation, but before he could even think about accepting Michael's offer, he needed to get well first and figure out and research how he could ask for a room transfer. He really hoped Michael understood that Quinn held no ill will against him.

Luckily for both boy's, Michael finally understood and his anxiety was now at ease - or as eased as it could be for him. “I'll write down my number for you, but seriously, have some tea, your voice sounds painful!” And with that small chuckle, he poured Quinn a mug of tea as well and the two drank in relative silence.

Michael, while no longer anxious about the situation, still hadn't a clue of what to say now but he didn't feel the need to either.

He simply sipped his tea, enjoying the silent company. It was nice not to be alone.

“You can chill out as long as you want, like I said I don't plan on doing anything today.” he repeated as he handed Quinn a sticky note with his phone number and address on it. “No pressure though.” He blushed and looked away, hoping Quinn couldn't tell he was blushing if he looked at his toes instead.

They migrated back to the couch after that, where Michael soon discovered that Quinn was still running a fever. It wasn't nearly as high as before, for which they were both glad, so Michael offered up his blanket again, chuckling at how readily Quinn accepted it.

Quinn pondered whether he should give Michael his number as well until he began to grow sleepy. He was comfortable here, even after only spending the night, and now it was going to be hard to picture himself living anywhere else.

His head wound up on the armrest, his lips parted as the congestion forced him to breathe through his mouth. His soft, gentle snoring didn't go unnoticed, even as he slept there for a couple of hours, finally somewhere content, beside someone he could truly call his friend.

#illness #fever #my ocs #quinn #my writing #nerdlycharming #other people's ocs #a fateful encounter

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donaldresslerfanfic · 7 years

Text

Self Defense

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.

Word Count: 2503

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Twenty Four

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Present day. Ressler.

"What, are you sleeping at the dog house?"

I joked to Reddington. He made a little disappointed grimace and looked down at his drink.

"That's a shame. She's gonna miss the most tantalizingly delicious khorem baklava"

He looked inside the inner pocket of his jacket and took off his vibrating phone. He answered and after the caller said a few words he looked dead at me.

"Is she injured?" He asked, I frowned a little "put her on the phone" he waited a few seconds and then spoke "I need you to take a deep breath and tell exactly what happened"

I continued to look at him, getting more nervous by the second, he kept giving me glances, and if I didn't know any better I would say he was talking to Mags. He made a little hum of acceptance and handed the phone to me.

I reluctantly took it and put it in my ear

"Donald" Maggie's quivering voice greeted me. I stood up from my seat and walked away from Reddington, in a whisper she said "Donald I killed someone".

Three days ago. Maggie.

I pushed the phone in my ear when I saw the caller ID.

"Don, did you make it on time?" I said into the phone, holding it with my shoulder as I held my baby nephew in my arms.

"Yeah, though I have to catch another plane in a few hours"

"Oh" I lamented "you going on a case?"

"Yeah" he answered vaguely, I knew he couldn't talk much about it.

"Well, I hope you make it back on time. My sister says she'll be fine by Wednesday, so I'm going to stay here for two more days"

"I hope Keen and I can get this settled by then" he said. I smiled, looking down at baby Nathan and cuddled him closer to me.

"Okay, I hope I see you then"

We said our goodbyes and I love you's and hung up.

Don had to come back to DC on Sunday night to be well rested for today monday. But by the looks of it he has another long travel on his schedule.

My sister had to get a c-section which was a bummer, she wasn't happy about that at all, but baby Nathan didn't wanted to be born so they had to do it.

Aftercare of a woman who had had a major surgery was a little harder, which is why I didn't return on Sunday. I helped her with my nieces on their morning routine and took care of them after they returned from school, that way my sister only had to worry about the newest acquisition.

Present day.

"Donnie hey" I said while answering the phone.

"Hey Mags." He saluted

"Something wrong? You never call when you're out in an assignment"

I stopped the cab and asked the driver to haul my luggage into the trunk.

"It's been a hard day and I just wanted to hear your voice"

I felt my heart squeeze as I smiled

"Aww baby" I said in the phone, then tsked my tongue "I miss you" I wined a little

"I miss you too"

"Lady you coming?" The driver had already put my things in the trunk and was now calling me from inside the cab. I gave him a silent apologie and climbed in.

"Tell that asshole to back down" I smiled at his protectiveness and relaxed in the back seat

"I'm tired, I'd forgotten how awful it was to fly economic"

"You're getting awfully used to that jet"

"I think I'm going to turn into Raymond just for a while, until I can get enough money to buy me a jet, and then I'll stop"

"And you'll be hunted down by me"

"Oooh" I said suggestively, then whispered "are you gonna hunt me down agent Ressler?"

"I'll hand cuff you and everything"

I chuckled and then cleared my throat, the cab driver was looking at me weird

"I'll call you as soon as I get home, we can talk more then"

"Okay, I'll head down for a drink and wait for your call"

I smiled and after I said my goodbyes I hung up.

I was back at my apartment building, I walked down the hallway and inserted the key into the lock, I opened it, and then the most overpowering sense of dread engulfed me at the same time I felt something on my side.

A hand grabbed me by the arm that still held my house keys and pulled me into the apartment. I was already crying at this point, the intruder shoved me into the house until I landed on the side of the table.

I looked, scared, to see a man pointing a gun at me. I didn't recognized him, didn't know who he was. One of my hands stupidly went up in the air, as if it would stop the bullet if it came.

"Look at him" he said, then pulled out a crumpled up photo from his back pocket. I reluctantly moved my eyes from him and into the photo

"I don't know who that is" I admitted, my voice was shaky and low, as if going up in volume would trigger him into pulling the trigger.

"He was my son. And Reddington took him from me"

I wanted to say that Raymond wasn't a killer. That he didn't kill without a reason, but I knew my situation was dire.

"Listen. I don't have anything to do with this" I said calmly.

"You are his associate, as I once was. And I have to send a message."

He walked one step, the gun was closer to me now, and I found myself in the same situation I had practiced over and over again.

I'll be damned if after all I've learned I still go down on a fight

"You don't have to kill me"

First, take your body out of the way of the weapon.

"It's pointless if you kill me, I don't have a relation with him, Dembe is my handler. He might not even care if you kill me, and the messages won't reach him."

Second, reach to gun with right hand, spin and trap arm between left arm and torso. Punch and kick if necessary to get ahold of the weapon, the hand that traps the arm must never let go.

"Oh, it will reach him" he took a step closer, pushing the barred of the gun closer to me. "Because when I'm done with you, I'll carve my name in your body"

I swallowed, and he cocked the gun to put a bullet on the chamber.

If when you're struggling you don't see the chance to take the gun, either click the safety back on, or push the release of the magazine to leave it empty.

"I'll say goodbye to agent Ressler for you".

He looked somber, he's probably never killed anyone, and he didn't wanted to start with me.

"Put your hands up" I didn't, not before he was close enough. "I said out your hand up!" He yelled, then walked a step closer, now he was in an optimal position.

You can take him down Maggie, use your training.

Slowly, I began to put my hands up, before they reached my shoulders I ducked my head and quickly threw my hands in the air, effectively trapping the hand with the gun in both of mine. I spun around the give my back to him and tried to find the release of the gun, when he punched me on the side, that was something no one had warned me of, how much it hurt when you get punched in the ribs.

The elbow is the strongest part of the body, so I used it, threw my arm back to hit him in the bridge of the nose.

The magazine released from the gun and now, except for the shot in the chamber, the gun was empty.

Now, it's a fist fight.

I managed to pry the gun from his hand and toss it to the other side of the room before he grabbed me by the hair and slammed me down the table, the hit in the head definitely put me out of balance, but still I spun my body again to hit him with my fist as I turned.

He still had my hair held in his fist, and he threw me back on the table, hitting my head on it once again.

I tried to get a hold of anything that could be over my table, and the only thing I found was a vase that my sister sent me as a house warming present. Sorry Maddie.

I grabbed the vase by the top of it and slammed him in the head with it, but he seemed unfazed by it, and he hit me in the jaw with his closed fist.

I put both my legs to my sides and while I hit him again in the face, I put both my feet up in his chest and pushed him back with strength.

He stammered with the stools of my kitchen island, but then his eyes diverted to the side of the room where the gun had landed, instantly I knew he was going for the gun, that the gun still had one shot in it. We both got in motion at the same time, I knew I was closer, I knew that I would get it.

He knew this too, which is why he tripped me on my feet and I fell, luckily my hands stopped the fall, and from the point of view I saw the gun, laying below my couch.

He yanked me backwards from my feet and I kicked him back again, army crawling to the gun when I was free.

It was a mechanical movement that I didn't even know I had acquired, but when I had the gun in my hand, I turned on my back and shot.

He was looming over me when the bullet pierced him in the chest, and he fell to his knees between my legs, then on top of me.

I was still deafened by the sound of the shot in the confined space, my ears were ringing, and now I had a dead body on top of me.

It felt like ages had passed, me being down there, but it was probably a few minutes. I pushed him off me and rolled him onto his back, and then I felt it, the sense of dread again.

I killed a man, a man I didn't know. His blood was in my shirt, now in my hands, the gun slipped from me I don't know when. My breath picked up as a thousands scenarios hit me with force. I looked down at him, my eyes blurry now, at the man, his eyes were open, blood was still spurring from the hole in his chest.

I crawled away from him and to the other side of the room. I slid down the wall and hugged my legs to my chest, looking at the other side of the room as my wooden floor was being tainted red.

I barely felt the vibration of my phone still in my jacket. I took it out and instead of looking at the notification I began to dial.

My top two contacts were all I had, the only two people that could help me. The legal, and the illegal way.

I pressed the screen to dial, leaving a bloody handprint on my phone, then shakily put it in my ear

As soon as I hear the click of the call I spoke

"Dembe, I killed someone" I whispered, looking still at the body

"Where are you?" He replied, calmly

"At my apartment" I whispered again.

"Don't touch anything, I'll be there shortly"

He hung up, and I debated long and hard before turning off my phone, I wasn't going to talk to Don not now, not until I know what the hell just happened.

I killed a man... That's what just happened.

Again, it felt like ages before Dembe showed up in my doorstep, accompanied with a woman.

He saw me in the corner of the room and after the other woman came in he shut the door behind him and crouched to meet my eyes.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, taking me by the arms and pulling me up, I nodded, and the light turned on, I winced a little at the sudden spur of light that met my eyes, and I looked at the scene beside me.

The woman that was crouched over the body was an older lady, short hair, long coat over her figure. She had slipped some latex gloves and was looking inside her purse

"Who is he?" I asked, looking again at Dembe, he lead me to the kitchen and I winced when I tried to sit. That punch in the ribs had done an number on me. I lifted my shirt to find a forming bruise. Dembe poked to wound and inspected the other bruise I had in my jaw. I felt like I had been ran over, I had a headache.

When I lifted my eyes to Dembe he was on the phone.

"Edward attacked Maggie, I'm with her right now. I dont know how he slipped her detail. He's dead"

He waited a few seconds while Raymond replied, Dembe looked at me and said into the phone

"Not mortally" he waited another second, then handed me the phone.

I took it with a crammed hand and put it in my ear

"I need you to take a deep breath and tell me exactly what happened"

I did so, bracing myself to put in words what I really couldn't, or didn't want to put in words

"I came into my apartment and there was a man already here, he had a gun and said that you killed his son, and he was going to kill me to send a message. I shot him" I finished in a whisper, feeling tears pick at my eyes again. "I don't know what the fuck I'm going to tell Don. Is he with you?"

I head a little hum on his behalf, but he probably didn't wanted me talking to Donald just now, not until we could settle this, seeing that Raymond didn't do things by the book.

"Put him on"

I could not keep things from Donald, whatever the cost I would take it, I had done a silent promise that his trust was not something to take for granted.

I head Raymond stay silent on the other end of the phone, and I knew he didn't wanted me to talk about it, still, i heard a little change of air.

"Donald" suddenly I realized I should've waited, I was fucked now, and I noticed my voice betraying me "Donald I killed someone."

#donald ressler #fanfic #the blacklist #diego klattenhoff #donald ressler fanfic #muse #amber heard

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 7 years

Text

Great Minds Think Alike (Riverdale - Jughead x OC) Part 7

Pairing : Jughead x OC

Synopsis : A new girl arrives in town around the time of Jason Blossom’s accident. That alone makes her suspicious and unlikeable to most people. Jughead has every reason to investigate on her, the timing is too perfect, right? And it has nothing to do with the young girl’s odd yet charming way of always seeming to find her way back to him, no matter the situation.

Word Count : 2.7k

MASTERLIST

Part 6 <<< >>> Part 8

“Okay-“ Iris trailed off, stretching the last syllable while squinting her eyes at Jughead. This wasn’t exactly what she expected when she came here. It was the opposite of what she expected honestly. “Now would be a good time to tell me how you know that information about me that I told absolutely no one,” she ended up saying.

“I hacked into your computer and stole all confidential data it contained,” Jughead said. His tone was sarcastic enough to leave no doubt about the fact that he didn’t, in fact, hack into her laptop. “No dummy, I saw it one your ID when you forgot it at Pop’s, remember?” He chuckled, enjoying Iris’ frown of confusion.

This incident had completely slipped her mind and she was stunned that he remember the date of her birthday even though at the time he found her ID they were barely acquaintances and nowhere near being friends yet.

“You don’t call people dummies on their birthday,” she simply said, crossing her arms on her chest. A stern yet playful spark illuminated her eyes as she gave Jughead a pointed look. “But thank you. For remembering, and for the ice cream. Care to share?”

“I wasn’t going to let you eat that all alone anyway,” he scoffed, faking to be offended that she even considered this possibility. “Make your damn wish so we can dig in.”

Iris’ gaze softened and a coy smile stretched her lips. Jughead identified the look on her face as a mix of sadness and fondness, and he couldn’t quite comprehend why these two emotions surfaced now. What did he say?

“I don’t believe in candle wishes, Jug,” she told him in a hushed tone. She sounded like someone who had been hugely disappointed in the past regarding wishes. “If I really want something, I go get it, I don’t wish on a star or a candle or because it’s 11:11,” she explained before blowing out the candle.

“On this joyful note, I suggest we eat,” Jughead said to change the subject.

“Yeah, sorry about my mood it’s been a long night,” Iris said with emphasis on the ‘long’. They both grabbed their spoons and started eating the mountain of ice cream in front of them. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“Later?” Jughead asked. “What do you wanna do later, I thought this was ‘later’?”

“No way I’m finishing the night sober,” Iris declared. “We take my car, go somewhere else and I’m not letting you leave before we finish my entire emergency pack of beer,” she said without leaving him a choice.

“Should I be worried that you have an emergency pack of beer in your car?”

“It does come in handy,” she nodded her head thoughtfully.

“Hey,” Jughead said to get her attention, his spoon still in his mouth. He played with it before sticking it out and taking a bit more of the chocolate chip ice cream. “I have to say- your outfit is on point tonight.” He chuckled when he saw the outrage on Iris’ face.

“Oh my god, shut up!”

As promised, Iris and Jughead went on their night drive the second they finished Iris’ monstrous birthday ice cream. She drove them but Jughead decided of the destination. Since she intended to get hammered and won’t be able to drive them back, they shouldn’t get out of town. In the end they settled for the Twilight since it was closed and Jughead had the keys – they could have their very own private projection and sit in the back of the pick-up.

They decided to watch Pulp Fiction but in the end they didn’t pay much attention to the movie and simply sat in the car, happily buzzed after a couple beers each. At some point Iris must have decided she was drunk and high enough to tell him tonight’s events.

“Betty spent the whole dance trying to subtly drop hints to Archie - who was too busy drooling over Veronica to realize his best friend is in love with him. Meanwhile Veronica clearly has a crush on sweet Betty and is trying really hard not to stomp on Archie's foot for being the lucky oblivious guy he is and I somehow ended up stuck in the middle of this infernal love triangle,” Iris explained as best she could without taking a breath and with grand hand gestures.

Jughead merely sat there, jaw hanging slightly open, eyes wide, listening intently to every word.

“I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but this thing switches off my brain to mouth filter-” she once again brought the joint to her lips. “-and I haven't known your friends long enough to feel guilty about spilling out some juicy info.”

“Everything you just said is wrong,” Jughead scoffed. “I don't know Veronica, I don't speak to Archie anymore and Betty I just know because she's lived here her whole life. And my classmates' romantic interests hardly classify as juicy info.”

“You're too hard on everyone, you know? That includes yourself. I'm sure if I asked Betty she'd say you're her friend, no second thought.”

“Yeah coz she's nice to everyone!” Jug's voice showed signs of annoyance now. “If I'm too cynical for you why don't you go back to the party and hang out with Mrs & Mrs Perfect?”

“I'm not interested in befriending people who are friends with just anyone. And in case I'm still being too subtle about it: I mean that I'd rather spend my time bickering back and forth with you than to hear one more conversation about Archie and his abs.”

“Is that really what girls talk about during their no boys allowed conversations? It's quite disappointing, I was hoping for something more thrilling, less predictable.”

“If it was up to me we wouldn't talk about any of Archie's body parts,” Iris said in a laugh which made her snort faintly, consequently stopping the laughter.

“Good to now,” Jughead simply commented. Clearly he was done talking about this. “Am I high or is there no sound to this movie?” He asked Iris, pointing at the giant screen.

“Yes to both, the sound's been off for ten minutes now,” she told him and started giggling for no apparent reason. “And I'm high too!”

“High enough to spill out all the shit you think of the people you've met so far,” Jughead pointed out. It made her feel bad all of a sudden, like he just flipped a switch inside her and her mood drastically changed. “Never thought you were one of those people.”

“I'm not! I'm trying not to be... anymore,” Iris protested, handing the joint over to Jughead. He distractedly took it but didn't bring it to his lips. “I didn't sign up for this shit,” Iris breathed out almost inaudibly but Jughead caught it.

She was referring to the beginning of drama that sparked tonight. Jughead let out a humorous chuckle before taking the joint from her hand.

“That's not how it works. If you want friends you've got to take it all, the good, the bad, the worse. You don't get to pick.”

“Please don't tell me you get all philosophical and deep when you're high,” she groaned.

“I wouldn't know, I've never smoked before tonight, not even a cigarette,” he chuckled.

Iris sat up straight and quickly retrieved the joint from between Jughead's lips right before he could take another drag, only to throw it away.

“What?” She squeaked out. “You should have told me! How many drags did you take?”

“I don't know? Two?”

“Ah,” she let out a relieved sigh. “How long in between?”

“How am I supposed to know that?” He grumbled – he played grumpy now that he took away his source of amusement. “Five, maybe ten minutes?”

“Good, when it's your first time you should wait a good ten minutes between each drag or you'll end up throwing up your guts.”

“Lovely.”

“Hey!” She said in excitement, already clutching his arm.

“I have no idea what you're about to say but I know I won't like it,” Jughead mumbled, letting himself drop against the car again.

“You Jughead Jones are the biggest buzz-kill I have ever met in my life!” She laughed. He scoffed but his lips were twisted in an amused half smile. “Okay, no drinking anymore for me tonight or I'll never be able to walk through the woods.”

“The woods? You want to go take a midnight walk in the forest while there's an abductor – and potential killer – on the loose?” Jughead asked her, dumbfounded. “No weed for you anymore either.”

“I already threw it away anyway,” Iris said. “And yes, I want to go to the river. It's my birthday you can't refuse me anything!”

“It's half past midnight, your birthday's been over for thirty minutes now,” he deadpanned but Iris didn't laugh. “Yeah, yeah whatever you want. We'll go to the river, but don't tell me I'm a buzz-kill anymore!”

She smiled and gently bumped hr shoulder against his.

“It's a terrible idea by the way. We're probably going to die painfully and slowly,” he declared dramatically.

“At least we'll end with a bang, not a whimper,” Iris giggled as she slid off the car and onto the floor. She tested her balance and seemed to be doing fine.

“T.S.Eliot probably does a back flip in his grave every time someone uses this quote incorrectly.”

“I know it's not the right quote, but in this situation I needed it to be this way around.”

She gestured him to follow her and once Jughead stood next to her, she looped her hand around his elbow and together they began to walk towards the edge of the forest. Neither of them knew how to get to Sweetwater river from the drive-in. They walked in a comfortable silence and followed the sound of the water hitting the rocks.

Iris' impractical dress sometimes got caught in bushes and stray branches – she tried to handle it with care since it was Veronica's, but it might already be too late. Same goes for her shoes which were slightly more brown than white at this point. She was a bit cold too but that wasn't a problem, Iris' excitement kept her warm.

“What's with your obsession with this river?” Jughead asked.

“I had never been to a river before. I'm a city girl remember? When I opened the window I heard car honks, not birds chirping.”

“You know most people living in small towns would sell their souls to leave this place and go to a big city, right?” Jughead said.

Iris stopped walking to answer him while looking him in the eyes.

“I'd gladly trade places with them. Moving here was difficult of course, I had friends, I had habits, a favorite coffee shop and a spot in the park where I liked to sit and do homework during sunny days – but everything was artificial. I was artificial. I like myself better since I've moved here. And I love watching the river and listening to the water running.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes. I've never been at this time of day. Come now.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the path. “I think we're almost there.”

“There where?”

“Shh,” she hushed him. “For once in your life, stop talking. Even when you were all broody at our booth when we first met you couldn't keep your mouth shut.”

“Touché,” he said and clasped his free hand over his heart.

He realized they were now walking along the bank of the river and although he wasn't going to admit it, it was a very nice spot at night. There was something slightly off though, Jughead couldn't quite place his finger on it. The feeling didn't go away during the follow ten minutes of silence it took them to reach a place he finally recognized.

“Are you crazy?” Jughead asked in a whisper. He didn't know why he whispered but it felt wrong to talk out loud. He had pulled on Iris' hand to make her stop walking and she practically fell backwards but he caught her. “We shouldn't be here!”

She had brought them to the bullet tree. They had already been questioned once for hanging out there and Sheriff Keller grilled them and gave them his scolding paternal stare for being on a crime scene late at night. And that was the first time.

“It's a good spot and I've been here again since I found the bullet. They took it, now there's only a hole in the tree,” she told him along with a sad wince. “I promise there's no risk of being caught here.”

“You're a little bit intense you know? And that's coming from me,” Jughead told her, still not letting her go.

Iris placed her other hand over Jughead's and smiled softly, in a way that made it hard to believe she wasn't sober. For a brief second, Jughead thought she might have acted drunk before and actually wasn't.

“Never change anything,” he added with a grin. Iris smiled bigger and when his grip on her loosened she led them to their bullet tree. “I don't know who you were before coming to Riverdale but I like this version of you, so- I'm sure you changed for the better.”

“You like it?” She asked.

Iris said 'it' but they both heard 'me'. He didn't answer but his expression seemed to be eloquent enough. They didn't know why but they suddenly became hyper aware of the fact that they were still holding hands. Iris was the first to let go when the tension became unbearable. She turned around and made her way through the bushes and to the flat rocks next to the tree where she wanted to sit. The torrent was stronger here and louder.

Jughead was taken aback – he usually wasn't the one who craved contact, which made it all the more surprising that Iris pulled away. He sat down close enough to her that they arms and legs were touching. Iris didn't seem to mind and even leaned a bit against him, but this coziness was of limited duration. The warmth they found in each other was swept away by the scream that pierced the silence and made them jerk away from each other and jump to their feet.

“What the hell?” Iris cursed.

“We have to get away from here!” Jughead said, grabbing Iris' arm and pulling it.

“What?! No! What if someone's being attacked!”

“We'll call the cops, but we can't stay here! We don't know what's going on,” he insisted. If he were alone he would have gone but Iris and her tendency to dive head first in dangerous situations made him feel like it was his responsibility to keep her safe. Which was insane.

“No, Jughead!” Iris ripped her arm out of his grasp. “I'm going.”

“Okay, okay, I'll come with you. But we don't do anything stupid,” he warned her. “I'm going to regret this.”

Iris and Jughead silently ran through the woods, trying to find the source of the scream that made their hairs stand on end. Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled back again and Iris' back knocked against Jughead's chest. Just when she was about to ask what was going on he put his hand over her mouth.

“Don't say anything,” he whispered. “Look, down there.”

He carefully withdrew his hand from her mouth when he was sure she would stay quiet and she leaned over to see what he was talking about. She had to bite on her hand to muffle a scream and Jughead pulled her once again to his chest to keep her out of sight.

Down by the river, a few meters away from them, there was Kevin and Moose, shirtless on the ground and right in front of them, the visibly dead body of a young ginger man – whom Iris identified as Jason Blossom.

A/N: Do you realize that it's already chapter 7 and we only just reached the end of episode 1 in GMTA's timeline??? Rest assured that I won't follow everything of the Riverdale plot, there will be no Polly, this will strictly revolve around Jughead and Iris. But I needed to place them in context, and as you can see “placing in context” in my language means “writing a little less then 20k worth of 'introduction'.”

Taglist: @bathshebaa @deanackles67 @myteenwolf-world @mumblr-of-tumbir @devilishcloe @bettysreid @angelicawastaken @rebellioncass @adorableninja @scattered-glances @ri-verdale @ice-wolfie @bubblegumcat229 @murderyoursoul @morixeddu @emptyporsche @lucifer-the-cuddler @challenge-accep-ted @scattered-glances @fantiomaticsupertolkienlover

#riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale jughead #riverdale jughead jones #jughead #jughead jones #jughead jones the third #jughead imagine #jughead x oc #oc #original character #cole sprouse #great minds think alike #fanfiction #Wattpad #ao3 #series

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sarah--writes-blog · 7 years

Text

Big-Ass Character Sheet

So I just dug up this character sheet that a friend in my creative writing class gave me a few years back. I’m not sure where she got it, but I use it for all my OCs. It covers a lot of things from multiple genres so this works for humans and mythical creatures and other beings alike!

I’ll keep most of it under the cut (it is LONG), but here are some interesting ones to show you how all-encompassing this is.

The Anima/Animus (The part of the character of a different gender)

Gait (The speed and style which how your character moves.)

Type of lover (Eros/pragma/banquet/mania/ludus/storge)

Intelligence (Linguistic/logical/spatial/kinesthetic/musical/interpersonal/intrapersonal/naturalist)

Influences (Who or what inspires your character to change? Do they influence anyone else?)

Savvy (What is your character particularly well-informed of?)

Weaknesses (make it something that your character exclusively is weak to, and keep it credible)

Immunities (Be very careful with this one)

Restrictions (An absolute necessity for those with supernatural powers. Ex. Can only breathe fire when angry or can only cast darkness spells two times a day)

Tagline (Something your character says a lot in everyday sentences. Can often be filled with a sound or vocalization.)

Signature Quote: (Something significant your character says. Doesn’t have to be meaningful, just make it memorable.)

I hope this is useful to people!

Full Name

Pronunciation

Nickname/Alias

Meaning

Origin of Name

Title

Pet Name

ID Number (tournaments, prison, school, etc.)

Gender

Gender Role (Does your character generally act more feminine or masculine?)

Orientation

Real Age

Age Appearance

Birthday

Deathday

Astrological Sign (Western)

Zodiac Sign (Eastern)

Immediate Family (Who was your character raised by?)

Distant Family (The ones they don’t see every day)

Parenting (Were parents strict or fun-loving?)

Upbringing (What morals and ideals were your characters raised with?)

Infancy (What was it like when your character was a baby? Were they nurtured or dropped at birth?)

Childhood (3-12) (What was it like for your character growing up as a kid?)

Adolescence (13-17, Teen Years)

Adulthood (18+, When your character has fully matured. If your character isn’t yet an adult, plan what would happen to them in the future.)

Coming of Age (When and how did your character “Grow up”?)

Evolution (How has your character changed since they were younger?)

Species

Ethnicity

Blood Type

Preferred Hand

Facial Type (Oval, heart, square, round)

Eye Color

Hair Color

Hairstyle

Skin Tone

Complexion

Makeup

Body type (Endomorph, ectomorph, mesomorph, somewhere in between?)

Build (Long legs, chubby cheeks, muscular arms?)

Height

Weight

Cup Size

Facial Hair

Shoe Size

Birthmarks/scars

Distinguishing feature (Something unique that stands out)

Health (How healthy is your character?)

Energy (How much energy does your character have on a daily basis?)

Memory (How well does your character remember things, and what do they remember?)

Senses (Are any of your character’s senses better or worse than others?)

Allergies

Handicaps (Ex. A limp, deafness, missing an eye?)

Medication (What meds do your character take, if any?)

Phobias (Things that simply terrify your character. May be trivial or debilitating. Try to have at least one.)

Addictions (Drugs, alcohol, gambling or bad teen romance)

Mental Disorders (Ex. Depression, Bipolar, Paranoia, optional)

Style (The overall style your character shows, not just limited to clothing)

Mode of Dress (Don’t describe their clothes here. Describe how they wear their clothes. Two people can wear a suit, but each will wear it differently. Ex, is the shirt tucked in?)

Grooming (Well kept or messy?)

Posture (How does your character present themselves? Ex. Stiff, slouchy, suggestive)

Gait (The speed and style which how your character moves.)

Coordination (How physically fit is your character? Also add things like reflexes, etc.)

Habits and Mannerisms (Any nervous ticks or unconscious habits your character might have. Ex nail biting, crosses arms, twirling hair)

Scent (What does your character smell like? Good or bad? How strong?)

Mood (What mood are you most likely to catch your character in?)

Attitude (How does your character interact with others?)

Stability (How emotionally consistent are they?)

Expressiveness (Do they hide emotion or let it out openly?)

When Happy (Ie whistles, sings, skips)

When Depressed (Ex. Lock themself in their room, hugs a stuffed animal)

When Angry (Ex. Punches a wall, screams at people)

Current Residence: (Where does your character live right now?)

Community: (What does the general population act like where your character lives?)

Family: (Include stepfamilies if it applies and label as such)

Friends: (Who does your character hang out with?)

Enemies: (Who does your character despise?)

Bosses: (Who does your character answer to?)

Followers: (Who answers to your character?)

Heroes: (Who does your character look up to?)

Rivals: (Who are they competing with?)

Relates to: (Who is similar to your character?)

Pets/Familiars: (Describe a pet your character owns, real or fantasy and give it a name.)

Wardrobe: (Describe your character’s closet. What is their formal, casual or other kind of wear?)

Equipment: (Refers to tools or weapons your character may use.)

Accessories: (Tattoos, piercings, jewelry, glasses, etc.)

Trinkets: (Applies to but not limited to luck charms, purses, watches or other items they carry with them almost all the time.)

Funds: (How much cash does your character have on hand, and how much at home/in the bank?)

Home: (What is your character’s house like? Describe its overall appearance, and describe such things as the yard, wallpaper, or any other info.)

Neighborhood: (What are the people and places near your character like?)

Transportation: (How does your character get around?)

License Plate Number:

Collections: (Does your character like to hoard or collect anything?)

Most Valuable Possession: (In money)

Prized Possession: (What object does your character value above all else?)

Lovers: (From childhood crushes to exes to a married partner, who does your character love?)

Marital Status: (Ex. single, taken, dating, available)

Sex Life:

Type (of lover): (Eros/pragma/banquet/mania/ludus/storge)

Turn-Ons: (What does your character want to see in their ideal mate?)

Turn-Offs: (What tends to make them back off?)

Position: (Dom/Sub)

Plays:

Fetishes:

Virginity:

Element: (Water/air/fire/earth)

Occupation:

Work Ethic: (How hard does your character work? How do they feel about their job?)

Rank: (How high up are they in the corporate ladder?)

Income: (How much money do they make?)

Wealth Status: (How well financed is your character?)

Experience: (Include things like past jobs or things that contributed to current occupation)

Organizations/Affiliations: (Who does your character side with?)

IQ:

Education: (How good is their education?)

School: (What was their school like?)

Grade: (What grades would they get?)

Special Education: (Did they ever get held back or get honor role?)

Social stereotype: (Ex. Nerd, jock, goth)

Degrees: (What degrees did/would they earn in school?)

Intelligence: (Linguistic/logical/spatial/kinesthetic/musical/interpersonal/intrapersonal/naturalist)

Extracurricular Activities: (Such as PE or Art)

Religion:

Morals: (What does your character find morally right or wrong?)

Crime Record: (Relationship with authority, laws broken, and crimes committed)

Motivation: (What moves your character? Ex. Power, money, love)

Priorities: (What does your character place first, second and third?)

Philosophy: (Your character’s outlook on life)

Political Party:

Etiquette: (How good are your character’s manners? Do they bow or chew with their mouth open?)

Culture: (Any things your character may do specific to a certain culture. Do your research on this one or you could offend people.)

Influences: (Who or what inspires your character to change? Do they influence anyone else?)

Relates to: (Who can your character relate to?)

Traditions: (Does your character sit around the table with family? What holidays do they celebrate?)

Suspersitions: (Spilling salt, knocking on wood?)

Main Goal: (Driving force in the story. May be subject to change)

Minor Goals/Ambitions: (What is your character trying to accomplish)

Career: (What would be your character’s dream job?)

Desires: (What does your character want?)

Wishlist: (What material items does your character want?)

Accomplishments: (Did they succeed in any goals?)

Greatest Achievement:

Greatest Failure:

Secrets: (Everyone has at least one)

Regrets:

Worries: (What do they worry about?)

Best Dream: (What would be the best thing that could possibly happen to your character?)

Worst Nightmare: (The worst thing?)

Best Memories: (A few stand out memories from the past. Keep it short and sweet)

Worst Memories:

Hobbies/Interests: (What does your character like to do for fun?)

Skills/Talents: (Similar to hobbies, but refers to the level of skill a character has. For example, a character could like playing violin but isn’t very good at it or vice versa.)

Likes:

Dislikes: (What can’t they stand?)

Sense of Humor: (Dark/dry/witty/sarcastic/dirty/childish/sophisticated/ironic)

Pet Peeves: (Similar to dislikes, but relates more to human behavior. Ex. When people tap on things)

Superstitions/Beliefs: (Does your character believe in conspiracy theories or aliens? Do they throw salt over their shoulder?)

Dreams/Nightmares: (What do they dream about at night?)

Quirks: (The strange little things that your character does that makes them unique. Ex. Sleeps with feet on the pillow or runs their hand along a pole as they walk beside it)

Savvy: (What is your character particularly well-informed of?)

Can’t Understand: (Something they just can’t get into, such as English literate or sports)

Closet Hobby: (Something that your character likes but isn’t too obvious)

Guilty Pleasure:

Strengths: (What makes them stand a bit above the crowd? (Courageous, listening, calm under pressure. No supernatural abilities here)

Flaws: (Refers to negative personality traits, not a weakness. Make sure it’s a deep flaw that could actually affect your character, not something trivial like “She can’t dance” Ex. Lies constantly, socially backwards, hot-tempered)

Perception: (How does your character generally see the world?)

Conflicts: (What issues make your character want two things, but they can’t have both?)

Instincts: (What are they unconsciously driven to do)

Lures: (What are they inexplicably drawn to be near? Ex. Power, money, the helpless)

Soft Spot: (their vulnerability, what they feel sorry for or have particularly good feelings for.)

Cruel Steak: (What makes a character act against their usual morals, and act especially mean? Everyone has something that can do this to them.

Powers/Abilities: (Here is where to put any superhuman powers and other abilities. Be sure to balance them out with weaknesses, or your character loses credibility.)

Origin: (How did they get their powers?)

Source: (How do they use their powers?)

Ability: (How adept are they at using said powers?)

Weaknesses: (make it something that your character exclusively is weak to, and keep it credible)

Immunities: (Be very careful with this one)

Restrictions: (An absolute necessity for those with supernatural powers. Ex. Can only breathe fire when angry or can only cast darkness spells two times a day)

Alternate Forms: (Transformations, shapeshifting, etc.)

Extra Anatomy: (Such as wings or a third eye)

(Least) Favorite Colors

(Least) Favorite Animals

(Least) Favorite Mythological Creature

(Least) Favorite Places

(Least) Favorite Landmarks

(Least) Favorite Flavors

(Least) Favorite Foods

(Least) Favorite Drinks

(Least) Favorite Characters (Not one of yours)

(Least) Favorite Genre

(Least) Favorite Books

(Least) Favorite Movies

(Least) Favorite Games

(Least) Favorite Shows

(Least) Favorite Music

(Least) Favorite Bands

(Least) Favorite Songs

(Least) Favorite Sports

(Least) Favorite Stores

(Least) Favorite Subjects

(Least) Favorite Numbers

(Least) Favorite Websites

(Least) Favorite Words

(Least) Favorite Quotations

Languages (What languages does your character speak and how fluently?)

Accent

Voice (High/low pitched)

Speech Impediments

Greeting and Farewells (How does your character say hello and goodbye?)

State of Mind: (Ask your character “How are you” and see how they respond)

Compliment: (Have your character say something nice)

Insult: (Have your character insult someone)

Expletive:

Laughter:

Tagline: (Something your character says a lot in everyday sentences. Can often be filled with a sound or vocalization.)

Signature Quote: (Something significant your character says. Doesn’t have to be meaningful, just make it memorable.)

MBTI Personality Type

Temperament

Enneagram

Ego/Superego/ID (Which is your character most driven by?)

The Self

The Shadow (The opposite qualities your character themselves does not believe they possess but do subconsciously)

The Anima/Animus (The part of the character of the opposite gender)

Persona/Mask (What they present to the world, or the side they use to protect themselves)

#writing #long post #reference #super helpful tho #original character sheet #y'all should send me some of these for my babies #which i'm beginning to call the sympathy ocs #because of plot reasons

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