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daisybianca · 1 year

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pairing: daniel ricciardo x femalereader

summary: your boyfriend was finally returning back home tonight.

warnings: mostly angst, fluffy moments, mentions of sexual activities, teasing

HE WAS RIGHT. It was definitely colder now. You should have packed a “poofy” jacket.

Daniel’s way of saying “poofy” as he pouted his lips together replayed in your head.

What a dork.

You tucked your hands inside the pockets of your denim jacket and pressed your shoulders together to bundle up. The slim black work pants you were wearing provided minimal wind chill protection, but you forgot to do laundry last night and this was the only pair left. Unless you were planning to show up to a client meeting in jeans. You weren't planning on losing your job anytime soon.

The sun was setting in the background and the sky was doing its magic again. Behind the historic building that towered the city, the pastel purple and pink hues splashed the late autumn sky. Every single purple and pink color was somewhere up there, even the ones that didn’t get a dorky crayola color named after it.

As you got to the steps of the apartment, your phone buzzed in the butt pocket.

Darn it, your hands were just getting warmer.

Danny Bunny: So sorry, but you are going to have to do dinner without me.

With a soft sigh, you stuffed the phone with hands back in the tiny jacket pocket. The text clearly impacted your mood because you were annoyed at your stupid jacket pockets. Why did anyone even bother stitching a pocket if it was only going to fit a third of a normal human being’s hand?

“Just try to look at the bright side.” Danny's ’ voice echoed in your head.

Biting your lips, you ran through the positive scenarios of not having Daniel around. No company for dinner meant that yoy could eat anything for dinner and get away with it.

Thoughts of cinnamon toast crunch and frosted flakes ran through your mind as you seriously contemplated each option as you opened the front door of the apartment. The familiar, but faint scent of leftover morning coffee lingering hit your nose.

You dropped the keys on a small table by the door and dragged your body to the living room. You threw your work bag on the floor and immediately went over to the thermostat.

Daniel was going to kill you, but was it your fault that he was gifted with body heat and you weren't?

You always freezing and having Daniel around was like having a personal space heater, but he hadn't been around the past few months with all those races he was trying to win. And,you were the master of guilt tripping him.

You grabbed your phone and texted back.

Me: I hate you, I miss my heater.

You did. You really did.

You settled on frosted flakes for dinner because you were craving the cereal milk after a bowl of corn flakes.

Yoy also finished the last of the remaining oat milk in the fridge.

You know how people say, TGIF?

Well, in this case, thank god it’s Friday because your fridge needed restocking and you could finish that on the weekend.

When Daniel wasn’t around, it was hard to find time to do anything. Without him, you resorted to what your life was like before he came into it. You resorted back to binge watching random Netflix documentaries and going to bed at 9pm. On days you felt extra adventurous, you would head out to the gym, but that was very rare.

When your boyfriend wasn't around you simply... simply lived kind of mechanically. As if you were a robot trying to survive and live an average, safe life.

You rolled into the couch in the living room and laid there blankly staring at the plain ceiling.

Yesterday, you were hoping that around this time, you and the F1 driver would be getting take out for dinner and bet on who would orgasm first before the food arrived. Loser would have to wear their underwear to answer the delivery guy.

Last time you two played, you gave him the best head ever and he lost before you even got fully undressed. But, he kept on arguing through the entire dinner how he purposefully lost because he didn’t need anyone seeing you in your underwear.

Sure, Danny. Whatever you say.

You rolled to the side and faced the empty TV screen. You thought you had turned it on, but you must have dreamt of doing that because you fell asleep after the last blink in the sweet memories of you and Daniel.

“(y/n).”

Your eyes were too heavy to lift as you were still coming out of the sleep haze, but you certainly knew that voice. Your heart was already thumping, it recognized it too.

“Babe,” Daniel whispered. This time his warm breath tickled your ears. His lips pressed against your forehead and you groaned.

“I hate you.” You muttered and rolled over to the otherside. Your eyes were still pressed closed and you sure as hell was not going to wake up to greet him with happy arms. In your mind, he was a traitor.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).” He was always the first to apologize.

“She’s mad at you,” You managed to get out with all the thoughts screaming inside your head.

“She still loves me.” He replied like how someone would answer “yes” to the question if the Earth was round.

“She does not.” You lied.

“She does.” There it was again.

“Actually, she wants to go back to sleep. That way, she doesn’t have to look at your face.”

His smile turned into a full grin. “You are so fucking cute when you are lying.”

You felt my cheeks growing hotter.

No, (y/n). Daniel is the enemy. Remember, Daniel is the enemy.

Yoy pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him, trying to kick the childish voice out of your head.

“I want to kiss you.” Your boyfriend whispered like you were playing footsie underneath the Thanksgiving dinner table.

You couldn’t resist that.

Yoy closed my eyes and leaned your head forward and felt his soft lips against yours. When yours mouths opened, you tasted coffee in his breath.

Hey, you needed the caffeine kick.

You also tasted the Red Bull liquid.

Your man was supporting his team and you were so proud of him, even though you weren't particularly a Red Bull girl.

Even though you was positive it didn’t work like that, your tongue found his and playfully teased around it. When he pulled away first, you were a tiny bit upset.

Okay, you were very upset, but you sure weren't going to show him that.

He clearly saw the discontent on your face and smiled. “God, I missed your taste.”

“I missed yours more.” You argued.

His eyebrows arched at your desperate thirst response. “You know what else I missed the taste of?”

Then, his eyes shifted across the couch. His eyes looked in the direction of your legs, more specifically, the space between them.

There was your guy. He was back.

Daniel slowly got up from the carpet and sat on the edge of the couch. He slipped his hand into your plain boybrief pyjamas and his finger grazed my cotton underwear.

You already knew you was soaking wet just an inch lower from where his hand rested. And moments later, he found out too.

Keeping his eyes glued on yours, he slowly moved his fingers until yoy felt the warmth of his hand through your cotton underwear. You let out a soft moan from your throat that you couldn’t even control.

This wasn’t fair. You wanted him so much.

You reached out a hand to grab a hold of his forearm. Underneath your grip, you felt the tensing of his individual muscle fibers against your skin, twitching and fighting the urge to rip off your underwear.

“Hey,” Daniel spoke and his velvet voice echoed around the empty walls of our tastefully decorated minimalistic apartment.

“Yeah,” You replied with as your mind was going crazy about the fact that he was really trying to tease you.

“How many licks does it take to get to the center of a lollipop?”

There was a strange moment of silence before yoy both erupted into laughter.

Your happy sounds were echoing around the entire floor.

Other than the fact that this might have been the worst “let’s have sexy time” comment he had ever said, you treasured moments like this. These were the times that lingered around you memories for a really, really long time.

You got up from the couch and tore his hand away. “Okay, Mr. Ricciardo. You definitely hit an all time low with that comment. It really sucks out all the intimacy.”

Daniel moved his body closer to yours and kissed your cheek. “Ironic, it was supposed to get me sucking your pussy.”

The way he said pussy sent chills down your spine. You were getting ready to jump on him any moment now.

“I mean, technically… you can still do that." You replied, nonchalantly.

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours. Your lips went at each other like you were in high school again trying to show off who was the better kisser. It was sloppy, wet, messy, and a lot of biting. It was still perfect.

By the time your boyfriend pulled away, you were both panting to catch your breaths.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and planted a sweet peck on your neck. Yoy wrapped my arms around his neck and he already knew the cue. His arms dug underneath your back and knees. He effortlessly got up from the couch, holding you close to his chest.

Yoy looked up at him speechless as he casually walked you through the hallways and kicked the bedroom door open.

It was dark here too, minus the moonlight filtering through your bedroom window placed on either sides of the bed. He walked over to your massive bed and gently placed you down.

You bit your lip and Daniel dropped his cap first, revealing a messy bed of hair underneath. In one quick motion, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His pale skin glowed. The moonlight reflected off his broad shoulders and firm chest.

Your heart wouldn’t shut up. It was like you felt that for the very first time. It was Daniel Ricciardo after all...

His body snaked over time and pinned you down between his legs. Each hand tightly gripped your wrists. The heat from his body was pouring down yours. He arched his neck and placed a kiss on your forehead. Then, he moved over to the tip of your nose, your lips, yours chin, and then down on yours neck. His warm breath tickled you. But you liked it. You loved it, to be exact.

“I’m sorry for being late." Daniel paused. "I genuinely apologize for that and I'm truly sorry, angel." He placed a soft kiss on your lips, like he wanted to taste you gently one more time before attacking like a hungry animal. "But, I’m not apologizing for how I’m going to ruin you tonight."

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

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withlovegvf · 1 year

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sixth sense | Sam Kizska

sam x fem!reader

summary: You find out that Sam hasn't seen one of your favorite horror movies and you introduce him to it.

WARNING ⚠️ : if you've never seen sixth sense i will be spoiling it. (also do yourself a favor and watch this movie bc it's one of my favorites)

yns pov

"Baby you have to stop sleeping on my boobs. I think you bruised one last time" Sammy scoffs snuggling his head back into its rightful place. "I am completely welcome here if i so please. Besides what if this movie is super scary and I need a safety zone? I think your breasticals are the perfect place to take shelter" I laugh and shove him off of my boobs. I get up and head to the kitchen to prepare the snacks for our movie night. I found out yesterday when we were talking about our favorite movies with the boys that sammy had never seen my favorite horror movie Sixth Sense. It was time to change that.

"okay are we feeling salty or sweet today?" I have both handles of the fridge door open looking around for whatever snack i was craving as Sam rests his head in the crook of my neck looking into the fridge with me. "I think pickles and kettle corn sound good. Ooh and I can make some spicy peach tajín margaritas!" I look back at him, first confused by the randomness of the snack choice then pleased with what he had suggested. "I like your style baby. A little weird but tasty nonetheless."

"Okay you start popping the corn and i'll prepare the margaritas." I nod. I head the pantry and grab three bags of corn to pop that we will put in a big bowl and share. As the final bag is done popping, Sam is straining the tequila mixture into two glasses with a tajín rim. I take both dill and sweet pickles out of the fridge and put them each in their separate bowls. "I know we ate like two hours ago and this is just a movie snack but we absolutely killed this." Sam holds his hand up for a high five which i go to give him but instead he slicks his hand down his hair in a 1950s, Danny from grease, kind of way.

I giggle and hit his chest lightly. "You are such a dork! Come on let's go get comfy and start the movie. You're gonna love it" We head to the couch as i carry the snack tray and Sammy carries our drinks. I set the tray down on the ottoman as we get cuddled up into our blankets and pillows before plopping the tray onto our lap.

"Okay are you ready to start this shit? Once you've seen it, you'll never be able to watch it for the first time ever again." Sam sips his margarita and gives me side eye while he does it. "Why do you say that like i'm gonna regret watching it when you say it's one of your favorite movies!?" I giggle and take a sip of my own margarita. "Okay then enough chitchat. Let's begin."

Sammy made it through the beginning of the movie with minimal fear until the first paranormal scene. "Why is this kid so calm?! I would be so far up my mom's ass it's not even funny." Sammy has finished his drink already so he's comfortably snuggled into my chest with his arms around me while I lay down. he shoves a few pickles into his mouth but his eyes never leave the screen. I giggle at his reaction and just keep watching.

Then we get to the part. "Yn what's happening...what the fuck is going on....what.. um.... huh.... i'm so confus- holy shit wait....Yn are you fucking serious...no fucking way..." I can't help but let out a huge belly laugh to the shocked, hung open mouth he has for the next ten minutes as he watches the end of the movie.

When it's over i silently turn off the tv and turn to sam. He is still kinda frozen in thought so I rub his shoulder to remind him of his current existence. "Baby are you okay?" "I can't believe it. He was dead the whole time. And looking back it was so obvious. How did I not notice!?!" I run my fingers through his hair with a smile.

"No worries babe no one ever notices, the movie is like known for its shocking ending." I look at the time and it's past midnight. "Okay baby let's go to bed. You have a press thing bright and early you don't wanna be extra late for." I pet through his hair some more as sam thinks

"What if i'm dead and you are just like my little boy i'm counseling until boom...I find you freezing in our bed crying on my one year deathaversary" I giggle as i pull him off the couch and into a bone crushing hug.

"Oh baby that's not happening right now...At least I don't think" I pretend to get a chill and shiver in his arms. Sam pulls away from our embrace abruptly with scared puppy dog eyes and tells me to knock it off.

"Okay silly time for bed. Move it!" We brush our teeth, do our skincare routine and snuggle up into bed entangling our limbs together.

"okay it would be an absolute game changer if the matrix was real though" I put my hand over his mouth as a signal to shut up before i drift away from sam to dream dreams that most likely have him in them.

•••••

Just a cute lil something about sammy. Also yes i think most of my sammy content will have this weird sense of humor i feel like he has...okay see ya next time friends!

-withlovegvf<3

#gvf #danny wagner #greta van fluff #sam x reader #sam kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka #gvf imagine #josh kiszka #sam gvf #gvf fluff #gvf x reader #jake kiszka #sammy gvf

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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Poly sea three x reader - oneshot - Lonely

*as i finished this i realized this has no dialogue...which is kinda cool i’ve never written a no dialogue fic, so enjoy!* ((y/n) is Jack Sparrows kid btw if you couldn't guess from the compass on the moodboard)

After Uma left, her life was harder…harder than it was before. Uma was the rock of the crew, always there, always steady, and ready to command the lot at a moment's notice. The crew saw a polished rock, hard and smooth, shining like the stars in the galaxy.

Only three people in the crew saw the rough edges. Uma only trusted three people to see behind the polished glaze, exposing the rocky terrain within her. On nights where it had just been too much stress at the chip shop, she would retreat to one of three rooms, sometimes even gathering all of them to be in her room so she could just relax with her favorite people.

Her head rested on her first mate's chest, his solid heartbeat and even breathing lulling her to sleep, her body tangled with her war chief, arms wrapped around each other like snakes and thumb gently rubbing her back. Her legs coiled around her second mate, his hands pressed against her calf and thigh, always letting her know he was there.

Uma didn’t know how much she relied on them until she couldn't get back behind the barrier, eyes wide with helplessness as she called out for them on the other side, Harry when he would nab some fish from an unsuspecting fisherman, (y/n) when they sat on the docks, carving whatever they felt like into their dagger, Gil when he was skipping rocks.

They never heard her, and she didn’t try again as she watched them walk around on the deck of her ship.

She missed them, she realized that almost as soon as she hit the water outside the barrier, stopping for a moment to look back, watching as the barrier closed and she was separated from her friends.

Sometimes, she would see things that reminded her of them, the scarlet ribbon of a disregarded dress, a sparrow flying above her, a broken arrowhead at the bottom of the sea.

Uma just wanted to be with them again, her heart ached every night she went on without the sound of Harry's heart, the feeling of (y/n)s hands gently scratching at her back, the feeling of Gil's hands gently massaging her legs. She realized she loved them, all three of them, the longer she was away from them.

She missed them all, so much.

And she hoped that they missed her too.

After Uma left, the isle was harder…harder than it was before. Uma was the rock of the crew, always there, always steady, and ready to command the lot of you at a moment's notice. The crew saw a polished rock, hard and smooth, shining like the stars in the galaxy.

Only three people in the crew saw the rough edges. Uma only trusted three people to see behind the polished glaze, exposing the rocky terrain within her. And she saw the inner workings of them behind closed doors, rusty cogs and scratched glass resting before her eyes.

Harry got more…twitchy, after Uma left, his usual controlled rage that used to bubble beneath his skin bursting out more often, scaring the crew sometimes, but never you and Gil. you both knew he’d never hurt either of you, he’d throw himself off the edge of the world before he even thought about doing so.

Harry was just so angry that Uma was gone, stuck on the other side of the barrier, he had no doubt she didn’t abandon any of you but that didn’t stop him from screaming and destroying the training dummies.

He shut himself away from everyone soon after the anger burned out, even Harriet hadn’t been able to convince him to unlock his door. It had taken almost a month for him to let you and Gil inside, and he looked awful, his skin was pale and his nose and cheeks were red, his eyes puffy and dull. The only reason he wasn’t skinny was thanks to you and Gil leaving trays full of food in front of his door at mealtimes, and leaving it there for him to grab it.

During those months of anger and depression, you and Gil took over the crew, you ascended into the role of captain, being the most knowledgeable about the position thanks to your lineage and Gil becoming first mate, all temporary until Harry recovered and Uma returned.

Though once Harry started to slowly return to his “normal” self, he didn’t care to try to take back his role as the first mate or become the captain as his first mate duties proclaimed, that alone told you and Gil and something was still wrong with Harry.

One night you and Gil dragged Harry into Uma’s empty quarters, and just laid in her bed in a tangle of limbs, Gil laying between Harry's legs with his head on Harry’s stomach, while Harry curled up into your chest, hands clutching onto your shirt. That night was one of the few times you saw Harry cry, choked sobs ripping from his throat as he attempted to muffle them in your neck.

You and Gil let your feelings out that night as well, assuring Harry that he wasn’t alone in missing Uma, you all did. So.damn.much.

Harry had always been in love with Uma, never afraid to show it, but that night you and Gil finally proclaimed the same after years of hiding your feelings in fear they would be used against you. And you loved each other too, it was hard to deny, not after revealing your feelings for Uma.

You all vowed that when Uma returned you would shower her in the love that you had all been deprived of for many years.

It was over a year later before you saw her again, Gil and Harry had jumped out of the barrier behind Mal and her goons plus Celia, Harry knocking the blue gem out of Mal's hand.

Your breath escaped you when a turquoise tentacle caught it, and Uma, looking more beautiful than you remembered, emerged from the water, dressed in an altered version of her turquoise cotillion dress, the sweetheart neckline showing off her glowing shell necklace.

Uma and your boys reunited, but she didn’t look at you, probably because you were back behind the tunnel and she couldn’t see you through the barrier and the darkness of the tunnel. But that was fine, you could wait just a bit longer before you looked her in the eyes again.

You would wait a thousand years for her.

But you wouldn’t have to wait that long, the next morning you awoke to the crew loudly celebrating, cheers and chaos echoing through the halls of the ship from the main deck.

You slipped out of bed, quickly changing into your gear and racing up to the main deck, unable to keep the smile of your lips as you saw Uma, who continued to glow with an echo of her magic, being lifted by the crew, all cheering and celebrating her return.

Her eyes locked onto yours, and as the crew set her down on her feet, you walked toward her, taking off your tri-corn hat and kneeling in front of her. You said her name like a prayer to the gods, a whisper on your lips. Uma shivered at the tone, feeling something wash over her at your worship.

As she looked around at the crew, Harry and Gil standing only a few inches from her, not wanting to be far from her, she realized that while Auradon had everything one could want, riches, good food, magic.

It was nothing compared to the warmth she felt surrounded by her crew and the three people she loved with all her soul.

Uma grabbed your face as you stood up, biting back a smile at your confused look, and pressed a kiss to your lips, the crew around them exploding into cheers.

Uma pulled back from you, smirking at your dazed look as she spun around and grabbed Harry's jacket, pulling him down to her height for a kiss, laughing into it as he slumped into her and groaned. She pulled away one last time and turned to Gil, grinning at his ‘excited puppy’ look, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as he picked her up by her waist to give her better access.

The crew celebrated and cheered, Bonnie handing Desiree a wad of cash when you and Harry kissed as Gil set Uma down and pulled the four of you into a hug, Uma pressing a kiss to his cheek as he did.

All was well again.

Uma wasn’t lonely anymore.

-end-

lowkey kinda proud of this one hehe, tell me what yall thought! this was originally going to be a under the sea kinda fic but it turned into them all missing Uma and Uma missing them and then they all reunited and kiss and just asaoishdahsda i couldn't help but do the fluff at the end

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @remembered-license

@random-thoughts-003 @imtryingthisout

@rintheemolion @thecaptainsgingersnap

@verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life

#disney descendants #harry hook x reader #sea three x reader #poly sea three #harry hook descendants #uma descendants #gil descendants #uma x reader #gil x reader #poly sea 3 x reader

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

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[Chapter III: Hyunjin & Felix- Certified FBI Agents (or b*tches)]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, phone sex, masterbation (m&f) + guided masterbation, use of adult toys

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

Filthy. You felt absolutely filthy.

You met a cute guy through text- as in an unknown dude you merely glanced at a random party. You sent certain texts to the cute guy- as in, a stranger you just met last night. You masterbated to the cute guy- as in, a man you barely even knew. Worse of all, you’re still thinking about said cute guy and how he affected you in a way you’ve never felt before.

But you loved it.

The next morning, you walked through the halls with a tight chest. Your heart beat rapidly at the thought of seeing your red beanie cutie, or rather, Jisung, in person. ‘Why the hell am I so nervous?’ You gripped your camera bag closer to your form as you made your way to your chemistry class.

“Y/n!” You heard deep voice say. You looked up to see Felix and Hyunjin waving to you. As you were about to greet the two, another person called out your name.

“Y/n!!” It was from a voice you’ve never heard before. You turned around to see Jisung running up to you with a cute smile, his red headphones dangling around his neck as he ran. Your eyes widened. You were about to greet him when he ambushed you with the biggest hug ever. “Good morning, Y/n! It’s so nice seeing you in person!”

‘How warm...’ you thought as you closed your eyes and returned his hug. You had to refrain yourself from whining out a complain when he let go of you. “How are you? Did you sleep well last night?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

Your mouth was agape. You stared into his pure, star-y eyes, speechless. ‘No way is this the same dude I was sending dirty texts to’. He looked at you expectantly, head tilted, waiting for your response. ‘Fuck. He’s so damn cute!’ “O-oh,” you stammered. “Yeah! I did sleep...good...last night…”

“Awesome! Me too! I really had fun talking with you,” he smiled, his words seemingly innocent. You could only blush. Oh if anyone knew the truth behind his words. “Speaking of talking, let’s hang out later so we can get to know each other a little more!”

“R-really? I mean- great! Yeah, let’s hangout later!” you nervously said.

“Yes! I’ll see you later, Y/n!” Jisung gave you another hug before leaving, waving to you as he walked further away from you. You weakly smiled as you waved back. ‘Why am I so awkward?’ Sighing, you turned around to see Felix and Hyunjin gaping at you. ‘Oh, right. Forgot about them’.

“Morning guys,” you stiffly greeted.

“Uh-good morning to you too, Y/n?” Felix replied. “So...How did the party go?”

You glanced at Hyunjin for a brief moment. “Oh, You know. Same old same old. Loud music. Lots of alcohol. People getting drunk, making out, fucking. Kinda what you expect in a typical college party in those cheesy tv shows.”

“Okay, cut the crap, Y/n,” Hyunjin intervened. “Since when did you and Jisung get close? Did something happen between you two?”

Felix nodded. “Yeah, I have never seen you two interact before today. Something happened during the party that you’re not telling us!”

“What’s this? An interrogation?” you said accusingly, “Nothing happened! We just happened to meet yesterday and got each other’s phone numbers. That’s all!”

“Liar,” Hyunjin scoffed. “I know Jisung. He wouldn’t be so buddy-buddy with someone he just met in less than 24 hours- especially to that extent. Something happened! I know it!”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You wouldn’t remember cause you were dead drunk last night.”

“Seriously, man?!” Felix laughed. “Is that why you were complaining about having a headache?”

“Y/n!” Hyunjin whined. “Look what you did!”

“Not my fault! You kept pestering me!”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s stop now,” your freckled friend pushed you two apart. “We’re gonna be late!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class...and the continuation of Felix and Hyunjin’s interrogation.

“Tell us.”

“Yeah, tell us.”

“Time to tell us~.”

“Come clean, Y/n~.”

“The truth shall set you free~.”

“Are you guys fucking serious?” you said exasperatedly. The boys corned you against the wall like FBI agents. Or more like those cliché high school bullies. Either way, it was suffocating. “I told you! Nothing noteworthy happened! We met, then talked, then texted, and that’s it! End of story!”

“Hm…” Hyunjin looked at you suspiciously. “I smell cap.”

“Something else happened. We can feel it,” Felix said with a sly grin.

“God! You’re both so annoying!”

The boys laughed. “We wouldn’t be so annoying if you just told us!” Hyunjin defended, making you groan.

“Geez…” you muttered as you rubbed your temples.

“Hey! No bullying in the halls!” You all turned to see Minho walking towards you three with an annoying grin.

Felix scoffed before chuckling. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Wait, Minho!” Hyunjin gasped. “You were sober last night. What happened between Y/n and Jisung?”

“They fucked.”

The younger boys gasped in shock, turning to you in disbelief. Meanwhile, you scowled at Minho’s terrible attempt at a joke. You sighed, “First of all: NO, we didn’t. Second of all, don’t lie to them like that, you asshole.” Minho bursted out in laughter while the other two stared in confusion.

“So...y’all didn’t fuck?” Felix asked.

“NO!”

“Then what happened?!”

“Why do guys wanna know so bad?” Minho asked.

Hyunjin pouted. “Because! It’s just a little weird how those two talked as if they’ve known each other their whole lives.”

“What? What did they do?”

“We just witnessed Jisung coming out of nowhere and hugging Y/n as if they were long lost lovers,” Felix explained.

“Oh?” Minho raised a brow, smirking. “What did you two do to make him act like that?”

“Not you too!” you cried. “Why are you all so hung up?!”

“Because this is Han Jisung we’re talking about! I told you, he’s a shy boy, so it’s just surprising to see him warm up to you so fast!”

“Right?!” Hyunjin said. “It took him a while to warm up to us! That’s why we wanna know.”

You sighed in irritation for the nth time. The once playful interaction was now getting on your nerves. “Alright, no more bullying Y/n, losers. Only I can,” Minho said, patting your back. “I was just joking with you all. Honestly, Jisung thought Y/n was cute so I did little bit of an exchange and they hit it off, I guess.”

Hyunjin muttered, “Still doesn’t explain why he was so clingy with Y/n but whatever.”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know either. Connection or something.”

“Hmm...Fine,” Hyunjin and Felix said. You let out a breath of relief. Finally…The school bell rang again, making Felix and Hyunjin panic.

“Shit. Let’s go, Hyunjin!” Felix hissed, pulling the taller male with him. Once they left your field of sight, you turned to Minho with a tired expression.

“My Lord, I offer you my sincerest thanks.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I know I’m the best. You’re welcome,” he said smugly. “Now that they’re gone...Tell me all the dirty shit you guys sent.”

You stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Come on, you don’t think I know? I’ve been friends with you and Jisung long enough to know where this would go. Now spill.”

Your face grew hot as Minho continued to stare you down with a smirk. “Do I have to?”

“Yes! I hooked you two up, so I need to know the details! Not too graphic though.”

You gave him a pouty look. “No.”

“Boo…” Minho chortled. “You’re lame.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey. Be nice. I’m the reason you now have a fuck buddy.”

“Again. Fuck off, you little-” You stopped yourself when you saw a familiar figure with red headphones infront of you. “Jisung!” Minho whipped his head around to see Jisung walking toward the two of you. Your friend offered you a knowing smile. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, prompting you to subtly shove him.

“Oh, hi Y/n! Hi Minho!” Jisung smiled, nodding his head.

Minho waved. “Hey, Ji.”

“What’re you doing? Don’t you have a class?” you asked Jisung.

“Eh...My lit teacher is out so we have a free period today. What about you guys?”

“Same here,” Minho said. “Trig teacher out, Minho out.”

The two of you giggled at Minho’s choice of words. “How about you, Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“I, uh, have a free class.”

“Oh, really?” the blonde haired boy exclaimed, his eyes widened excitedly.

“My literature teacher is out too, so yeah. Boom, I’m free.”

“Wait…” Minho said. “Who’s English class are you guys in?”

You and Jisung answered at the same time. “Mrs. Jung.” Minho stared at the both of you expectantly, waiting for the realization to kick in. And eventually, it did.

“Hold on, you have Mrs. Jung too?!” You both yelled.

Minho chuckled. “Finally. How did you two not notice each other before?”

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a lecture hall filled with 30 plus people? Of course we wouldn’t have known.”

“Pff, still surprising though.”

Jisung gasped then faced you. “Oh, Y/n! Since we both have a free class, why don’t we hang out now?” he asked, his fingers twiddling with the drawstrings of his white hoodie.

“Oh right. Yeah, we could,” you said. “Wanna come along, Min?”

The older male waved you off. “Pass. Don’t wanna be there to see you two fuck.”

“Minho!”

“Dude!”

You and Jisung felt embarrassment run throughout your bodies, unappreciative of Minho’s joke. He, however, enjoyed the response he got from you both. “Don’t deny it! We’re all adults still in school. We gotta relieve the stress somehow.”

“Stop!”

“Minho!”

Minho bellowed out with laughter, beginning to walk away. “I’m just gonna go to the library. See ya, lovebirds! Remember, no sex in public areas! We’re still at school!”

“Hyung, you fucker!” Jisung called out as you sigh. As Minho walked further away, throwing you both a sly smirk as he did, Jisung started pulling you to face him. “Uhm. Sorry about him, Y/n,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckled, “Nah, it’s fine. I know what he’s like too.”

“So…Since we’re both free for the period. Shall we?” he bowed like a sophisticated nobleman offering to dance with a maiden at a ball. You giggled, curtsying to play along.

“We shall, kind sir.”

Jisung smiled, standing up straight to meet your eyes. He started to walk again. “Awesome! I mean- excellent. I know a wonderfully secluded place where we may chat amongst ourselves.”

“‘Chat’?” you asked cheekily. “Are you sure that’s not code for something?”

Jisung’s face glowed red. “No!” he panicked. “No no no. I swear I didn’t mean anything by that! I just genuinely wanted to talk to you. No sexual innuendos whatsoever!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his shyness. “Relax. I was just messing with you, Jisung.”

“Oh,” he sighed in relief. You laughed even more when you saw his shoulders slump.

“Sorry, but you were just so cute, I couldn’t help it.” Before any of you could dwell on your words and grow flustered, you dragged him through the hallways. “Let’s go? I’m dying to see this ‘wonderfully secluded’ place you’re talking about.”

Jisung led you outside of the building, towards the garden near the back of the campus. “Oh wow,” you breathed, taking in the serenity of the area. “I didn’t even know we had a garden here.” You reached your hand out to run your fingers against the sea of Hydrangeas.

“Right?” he chuckled as he led you down the concrete path. “I didn’t even know about it either until the beginning of the school year.”

“How’d you find it?”

“I-uh-found out about it when I was hiding from Changbin.”

“Changbin?” you looked at him in surprise. “The sweet, muscle-y dude that wore all black at the party?”

“Pff, ‘sweet’ but yeah. Him. I’d...rather not talk about what I did to make him hunt me down.” Jisung shivered as if he had relived a horror movie. You snorted at his reaction, finding it funny. “Yeah...but ever since I found the place, I come here when I feel overwhelmed with life or need inspiration. So, a lot,” he snickered.

The two of you walked further into the garden until you reached an empty patch of grass. “And...here we are!” Before he let you sit, he took off the mismatched flannel he was wearing over his hoodie and laid it on the ground. “After you,” he gestured to it. You laughed as you sat down, finding the act sweet.

“Thank you!”

The two of you spent the last 80 minutes getting to know each other and it felt like it was the fastest 80 minutes spent. You learned about each other’s passions, dreams, fears, everything. Nothing sexual mentioned at all, not even the sinful deeds you’ve both committed the night before.

“Okay okay. Favorite color?” you joked, laughing when Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Really? Are you running out of questions?” he playfully sneered at you.

“Just answer!”

“Red. What’s your favorite subject?”

“Photography, duh. I am an aspiring photographer,” you lightly shoved him with your shoulder which made him chuckle. “Oh! Speaking of, can I take a few pictures of the garden? It’s pretty and I might need them someday.”

“Go ahead.”

You snapped some pictures of the different areas of the garden, taking extra attention to the pink Azaleas and other flowers in the vicinity. Wanting to ask Jisung a question, you turned around to find him already staring at you like a love-struck fool. The both of you blushed; you didn’t even remember what your question was anymore. You heard Jisung chuckle timidly under his breath. Getting the pictures you were looking for, you went back to Jisung, who was now laying down with his eyes closed. Finding the way he looked so relaxed pleasing, you snapped a quick shot of him sunbathing under the cool skies with the flowers swaying in the background. Remembering what you wanted to ask him, you were about to ask him your question before the bell rang. “Crap. second period already ended?”

“For real, right?” Jisung said, looking at the building. “Didn’t even feel like an hour passed.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. You walked back to where Jisung was at to grab your things.

“Where are you going?” you looked up to see Jisung sitting up and giving you his doe eyes- which made your heart thump.

“Don’t you wanna eat?”

“Nah,” he said as he laid back down on the makeshift blanket, closing his eyes. “I’d rather stay here and talk to you more.” You heard him whisper. You felt giddy at the fact that he wanted to spend more time with you. “Oh!” he quickly sat up to look at you. “But if you’re hungry, we can totally go to the canteen!” You lightly nodded, feeling your stomach growl.

“Sorry but I didn’t eat breakfast...”

“No problem! That’s why I said we can go!” He stood up and gathered up his things from the ground. He picked up the flannel and dusted it off. “Ready?” He stuck his left arm out for you to take. You giggled as you wordlessly looped your right arm with his. You snuggled closer to his arm, catching a whiff of his cologne. You felt so safe with him, despite only knowing each other for a day.

And that scared you.

You sat on your desk, writing your notes. The black inked pen glided smoothly on the lined parchment. The only source of light was the white lamp on the left side of your desk. Sighing, you stopped writing, feeling the need to sleep overcome you. You placed your pen down and rubbed your face. The chair lightly screeched as you stood up. You switched your lamp off then climbed to your bed, not even bothering to clean up your study space.

As you pulled your blanket over your body, your phone pinged. You turned your head to check the time on the clock. ‘9:57p.m.’, it read. Your eyebrow ticked in irritation. Grabbing your phone, you wanted to text the person the kindest ‘fuck you’ until you read the name.

Message from Min’s ho3

Seeing that it was from Jisung, you abruptly sat up to reply to him, internally cringing at the fact you were so desperate for him. ‘I need to change this dude’s contact name’ you laughed silently. Your phone unlocked and immediately directed you to the message.

Min’s ho3: u up?

Me: Yeah, I am.

I was about to sleep tho ngl

Min’s ho3: fr? dang you sleep early lol

reminds me of seungmin

You scoffed.

Me: It’s not even that early!

Min’s ho3: hmmm yeah it is... 🤗

Me: Excuse me?

Min’s ho3: jkjk

anyways. how are you? wanna chat?

or if you really wanna sleep, thats fine too

Me: Nah. I’d rather stay and talk to you than sleep

You smiled, wondering if Jisung would get your reference.

Min’s ho3: ohhh you make me blush. really using my own words against me, baby?

Me: What? Did that bother you?

What are you gonna do? Punish me?

You squirmed on your bed, squeezing your legs together after sending that risqué text. You were nervous if Jisung didn’t want to reciprocate your feelings...But you knew he would. Of course he would.

Minho’s ho3: it didn’t bother me before, not even a little, but now?

call me

In a flash, you pressed on his contact and tapped on the telephone icon under the picture-less grey icon. The texts faded and changed to the call screen. Your phone only rang once before Jisung answered.

“Baby…” his voice sounded raspy, sending a delightful chill up your spine. ‘Shit…’

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Jisung?”

“Nuh uh. Don’t ‘Jisung’ me, baby,” he spoke. His voice held an air of authority in it, causing your core clench around nothing. “Are you asking for a punishment?” You nodded your head, not even realizing he couldn’t see you. “Hm, baby? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“N-no?”

“No? Then answer me. Are you asking for a punishment, angel?”

“N-no…”

Jisung scoffed. “Well too late now, baby,” he said. “Take off your pajamas for me.” You dropped your phone and slowly stripped off your shorts and underwear. You kicked them to the side of your bed and shivered, feeling the cold air hit your wetness. “Off, babe?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered. “They’re off.”

“Good. Do you have any sex toys?”

You felt your face heat up. The thought of you revealing to anyone that you own them was humiliating. “I- yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then use it.”

You hesitantly reached under your bed for your dildo. Embarrassment filled your chest. ‘I’ve used it before. Why am I so ashamed to use it now?’ Before you could insert the purple silicone toy inside you, Jisung spoke.

“Don’t fuck it just yet, beautiful. Want you to tease yourself first.”

You huffed in frustration, not liking how Jisung stopped you but still listened to him. You brushed the dildo on your clit, sighing when you felt the stimulation. You continued rubbing yourself, your hips raising once in a while. Through the phone, you could hear Jisung panting, signaling that he started touching himself as well. The thought made you wetter. “Fuck. Jisung,” you whimpered, biting your lip.

“Not yet, baby,” he sighed. “Keep playing with yourself until I tell you otherwise.”

You wanted to cry. The feeling was good but didn’t want anymore teasing. You moved the toy from your clit to your core, teasing your entrance. You felt yourself clench when it touched you. “Jisung…” you pouted, wanting him to give you permission to fuck yourself.

“I said not yet, brat,” he growled, faintly hearing wet slapping in the background. “Keep asking and you’re not gonna cum at all.”

All you could do was to shut up, not wanting to piss him off any further. You threw your head back, toying with your clit again. You whined and moaned, feeling the beginning of your release bubbling. You called out Jisung’s name again, warning him that you wanted to cum.

“Close already, baby?” he chuckled darkly. “So fast.” You put more pressure on your sensitive bud, core clench rapidly. You were on the brink of cumming when…

“Stop.”

As if you were possessed by his words, you immediately removed the dildo from your clit, making you whine. Tears began streaming down your face at the loss of your orgasm. ‘That fucking sadist’.

Hearing your sniffles, Jisung laughed darkly. “Aww,” he sarcastically sympathized. “Were about to cum?”

“Y-yes…” you said quietly, trying not to back talk to him in case he decides to be crueler to you.

“You were? Aw, I’m sorry, darling,” Jisung snickered. “How about I let you fuck your dildo, hm? To make up for it?”

“Yes, please!”

“Then go for it, angel.”

Finally, you let the silicone toy invade your sopping pussy, letting out a loud moan as it slowly entered you. Hearing your cries of pleasure made Jisung throw his head back with a moan of his own, loving the sinful sounds that escaped your lips. He stroked his cock faster when we heard another moan from his phone.

“Oh shit, Y/n,” he hissed. Your eyes rolled back when you heard him, moving the toy faster inside you. Because of your denied orgasm prior, it didn’t take too long for you to grow close to your second attempt of a release. You moaned, your core clench tighter and tighter with every pump.

“Jisung!” you cried. “‘M so close! Shit!”

“W-wait. ‘Want you to hold it,” Jisung ordered. His breath was heavy, hips bucking as he drew nearer to his orgasm. “Want to- fuck. Wanna cum together, baby.” The thought of cumming together sounded hot. You tried slowing your movements only by a little, still keeping the strength of each thrust. That proved to be useless, however, because you could still feel the warmth in your lower stomach grow hotter and tighter. You bit your lip, feeling the need to scream.

“Jisung, please!” you were full on sobbing at this point, the need to cum was overpowering.

“Shit, ‘m close, Y/n!” he moaned. “J-just a little more!”

Fuck it. You snapped your wrist faster, hoping that Jisung would hurry and catch up to you. On the other line, Jisung was nearing his end, spurred on by the sound of your filthy cries of his name. His hand pumped himself faster, twisting when he was at his tip. Hearing your breathy moans and whines was driving him mad. It was addicting; so addicting that it was the main reason why he was moaning quieter-just to hear you.

“Holy fuck- Y/n!” Jisung cried, his dick spurting steaks of white all over his hand and stomach. Hearing him moan brought you to your own release, twisting and twitching as you cummed around the purple dildo. You called out his name the same manner he did. You shook, quietly whimpering, as you continued to ride out your orgasm until you slowly pulled it out of you. The both of you could only hear the sound of each other’s heavy breathing through your phone. Jisung was the first to speak, though he was still too breathless to speak completely coherent.

“Ah-shit. D-did you feel good, Y/n?”

You hummed as an answer, not having enough energy to do or say anything. The round cheeked boy giggled when he realized this. His chest surged with pride. He smiled lazily to himself. “Really? Sweet,” he sighed. “I’ll go now to let you sleep, yeah?”

You hum again in acknowledgment. “Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep tight.” You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of your phone beeping, signifying the end of your call. As you sat up to clean yourself up, you caught sight of your messages with Jisung.

‘Crap, what am I doing with this boy?’

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#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids series #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #han jisung series #han jisung x reader #Late Night Indulges

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freaoscanlin · 3 years

Text

Put It On the List

3283 words, rated PG. Clint/Laura, Laura & Natasha, Natasha & Clint.

A few months before the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier, the spy life interrupts the Barton family on a normal errand. Perhaps bringing the scary ex-Russian spy was a mistake. She thinks so, at any rate.

A/N: I wrote this as something of a prelude to an Endgame fix-it fic in progress. It predates everything in that fic and it's cute, so I'm tossing it up here for now.

“Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

“Sorry we can’t provide more excitement than grocery shopping,” Laura said as she pulled out the stash of reusable bags from the trunk.

“It’s fine.”

Laura was of the opinion that a vacation should be taken somewhere exotic, or at least filled with bottomless alcoholic beverages, especially given as young and unfettered as Natasha was. But the woman who had recently become Captain America’s partner at SHIELD had apparently decided a week off merited a trip to Iowa and she had been absolutely content to tag along on family outings with no apparently sign of boredom at all.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, hopping out from the driver’s seat as Natasha unhooked Lila from her car seat. “Nat’s secretly boring at heart. It’s the best kept secret at SHIELD.”

Natasha gave him a puzzled look. “Now, that can’t be true if even you’ve figured it out.”

“Excellent burn,” Laura said, laughing. “You really should come stay more often.”

“Somebody needs to keep Cap in line, otherwise I would.” Nat easily swung Lila onto her hip, following the other three as Cooper grabbed onto his father’s hand.

Laura had already spent the entire dinner the night before peppering her with questions about working with Steve Rogers, the Captain America from the comments. Clint had mentioned him a few times after that kerfuffle in New York with the Chitauri (“Nice guy, wears khakis.”), but Natasha had the inside scoop. And more willingness to share if he was as attractive in person as he looked on TV in that ridiculous star-striped uniform (“If you like that square-jawed All-American sort of thing, sure.”). Laura had even pointed out that, hey, if he was single...

“Yes, the ex-Russian spy and the American war hero. It sounds too much like a bad eighties movie.” Natasha had helped herself to more creamed corn. “I think I’ll have to find him a girlfriend to avoid ever having to answer that question again.”

“Hey,” Laura had said, protesting.

“Fair,” Clint had agreed.

And now here was the ex-Russian spy herself tagging along at the grocery store, carrying Lila and looking like there wasn’t anyplace else she’d rather be than the big chain grocery store a few towns over because they had a better selection of gluten free snacks than the Shop A Lot back home. She trailed along as Clint took over the cart, Lila kicking her legs happily from the child’s seat atop.

“You’ve got the list?” Laura asked.

“I thought you had it?”

“Clint, I said you need to grab it off the fridge before we left. Weren’t you listening?”

“I always listen to you. But it wasn’t on the fridge, so I thought you had it.”

“That’s ridiculous, I put it there last night and—” Laura turned to see Natasha silently holding it out, eyebrows high. “Oh, that works. Thanks, Natasha.”

A half-shrug. “He would’ve forgotten it.”

“They’re impugning my honor,” Clint told Lila and Cooper, the former of whom giggled back at him. “What’s first? Edible or not edible?”

“Food first. Oh, hey, did you remember to put the popsicle sticks on here? Cooper’s day camp was asking people to donate supplies, and I put us down for those.”

“Yes, I absolutely did that. For no reason whatsoever, may I see the list?” Clint grabbed it away and underhandedly passed it to Natasha. Since Laura caught the move, she figured they weren’t actually trying to hide it.

When the list returned to her, “popsicle sticks” was written on the appropriate line in slightly loopy handwriting. “Cute,” Laura said. “Also, if there’s food you want that we don’t have at the house, make sure you put it in, Nat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Just keep it in mind.” Laura smirked. “Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile broke out when Laura laughed. Later, Laura noticed that a small bag of nectarines had been added to the cart.

Normally she did this errand without two spies in tow, which was a matter of getting the groceries as quickly as possible and especially speeding through the aisles with the brightly colored boxes that would make Cooper and now Lila whine. Clint’s paycheck was more than generous enough to cover their expenses, but she liked to keep the sugar down at least a little. Grocery trips could be a nightmare from that alone. But now she could send one of them down the danger aisles, while the other distracted the children.

She could get used to this.

Of course, she could have just sent Clint or even Natasha to do the shopping—or gone herself—and she imagined they’d have it done in less than a fifth of the time it took them to wander the aisles now. But Clint had been called on so many SHIELD missions lately that it was nice to just have some family time together.

She was about to suggest they hit up the putt putt course on the way home when Clint’s body language snapped into readiness. On the other side of the cart, Natasha turned away in what most people would deem a casual fashion, but Laura was surprised to see tension running across the line of her shoulders as well.

Instantly, she began to turn her head, to see what had set them both off.

“Don’t look,” Natasha said, Clint echoing her a split-second later.

Cold panic sprang up, but Laura froze in place. The air conditioning turned abruptly frigid. In the basket, Lila had conked out, wheezing a little, and Laura had never been so grateful for her daughter’s ability to fall asleep anywhere.

“This way,” Clint said in a murmur, scooping up Cooper. To strangers, it would never look out of the ordinary, but Laura knew her husband too well to be fooled. And his partner, too, apparently, for she could sense something amiss as Natasha fell in step behind her. At the end of the aisle, away from the registers and most of the store, Clint began shoving aside various things in the cart to deposit Cooper in there. He glanced at Laura. “It’ll be okay, honey. Nat, are they here for you or me?”

“Me.” The word was flat. “They’re scoping out women.”

“Who? Who’s here for what?”

She’d seen Clint and Natasha’s silent conversations before, usually at holiday dinners, but those were always warm and amused. Now, Laura was treated to the fact that they seemingly had their own entire language—and the ability to hold arguments with little more than a few nods and pointed looks.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Cooper asked. “Dad put the stuff back wrong.”

“I know. It’s okay, though. The store employees will know where to put it back properly.” Her pulse had begun to hammer, but Laura did her best to keep her hands steady as she petted Lila’s bent head.

“Fine, you win,” Natasha said, the first words she’d spoken aloud. “Where?”

“Northeast corner, break room.” Clint collected an oversized bucket of licorice, and as Laura and Cooper gawked at him, popped it open and dumped the individually wrapped candies into the cart.

Natasha dropped her phone into it and grabbed Laura’s purse.

“What? Hey, don’t—”

Natasha pulled out a few items, including Laura’s phone. This she dumped in the bucket. An unfamiliar black box, she tossed to Clint. Laura stared mournfully at the shimmery blue phone case bought off of Etsy only last week as the entire bucket was hidden on a shelf behind a case of gum. Clint tossed his hooded jacket to Natasha, gave Laura one brief, heart-stopping look, tousled Cooper’s hair, kissed Lila on the head, and strode off without looking back.

“We were followed,” Natasha said in an undertone, pulling the hood over her distinctive hair.

Followed could mean anything from evil assassins to space aliens at this point, and both of those options led to nauseating conclusions. But Natasha shot her a look, so Laura nodded and swallowed back any panic. And then she changed again, quicksilver just like Clint, so that she was bright and happy Auntie Natasha once more. She picked up Cooper out of the basket and held onto his hand, swinging it cheerfully. “Time to play a new fun game. It’s called ‘Let’s be invisible.’”

“How do you play?”

“Our job,” and Natasha actually hunkered down so that she was on eye level with Cooper, “is to get all the way there,” she pointed to the back of the store, “as fast as we can without running. Because if we run, we won’t be invisible anymore.”

“This is a silly game, Auntie Nat.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it? Shh, come with me.” Natasha rose and made brief eye contact with Laura, then headed down the aisle in the opposite direction from Clint. She walked briskly, but not fast enough to draw attention, and Laura had to follow. “Clint’s scoping things out,” she said in a low voice as Laura caught up with the sleeping Lila. “He’ll be fine. I’m taking you and the kids to hide.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“You’ll be safe.”

So that was a no. Because she knew her friend well enough, she knew Natasha was tense and watchful, but not a single thing about her betrayed that fact. Natasha didn’t lead them straight to wherever they were going, either. They crossed the store through random aisles, first through the art department and then sporting goods, and Laura’s heart sank as she noticed they were approaching the toy department. They were never escaping without at least one meltdown.

But Natasha surprised her by leaning down and whispering something to Cooper that had him giggling. And right on through they went without a single problem.

“Shh,” Natasha said to Cooper as she pushed open the door to a break room. She peeked inside, then jerked her head for Laura to follow.

“What are we doing, Auntie Nat?” Cooper asked as Natasha immediately climbed onto a table and reached for the ceiling.

“New part of the game,” Natasha said.

Laura looked at the human-sized trap door she’d opened and thought Oh no.

“You get to go up there,” Natasha said. “And it’ll be like hide and seek.”

Cooper’s expression suddenly shouted that he found the prospect of invisibility much less enchanting now. “It looks scary.”

“I’ll be with you,” Laura said. “The whole time. We’ll be invisible together, okay?”

“You first, and I’ll hand them up,” Natasha said.

Laura clambered gingerly onto the table, wishing she’d worn better shoes for this. She put her foot into Natasha’s cupped hands and hauled herself into a very, very dusty vent. Darkness surrounded her and she thought Oh, no. Cooper needed a nightlight on the best of nights. Her son was far cleverer than most; even with Natasha’s easy cheer, he could clearly tell something was off. And if he began crying, Lila was bound to wake as well. Keeping them both quiet would be beyond impossible.

Natasha passed Lila up first, and the toddler barely even stirred. Before she could lift Cooper, she hopped off the table and down to his level. Laura couldn’t hear what she said, but she saw Cooper nod and hold his arms up, completely trusting.

When Natasha lifted him up into the vent, he had his chubby little fist wrapped around a little flashlight. Laura hadn’t even seen Natasha pull that from the shelf, though she recognized it as being from sporting goods. Cooper waved it about, wildly.

“I couldn’t grab much,” Natasha said, hauling herself up so that she hung half off the trap door. Laura would kill for that kind of core strength. She slid over two coloring books and crayons. “Sorry about that. Stay here until Clint or I come to get you. If somebody comes in, we’re invisible, right?”

“Invisible,” Cooper agreed, scrambling for the coloring books.

“Good man.” Natasha reached up to ruffle his hair like Clint had done. She glanced about the air vent in a distinctly sardonic way. “Cozy.”

“Stay safe.”

“Will do.” She raised an eyebrow at Laura, and disappeared down the hatch. A few seconds later, the trapdoor slid back into place, leaving Laura in a dark vent with her children and no cell phone to keep them company.

She had to remind herself that they were lucky something like this hadn’t happened before, though that felt like cold comfort when everything smelled like dust. She shifted the sleeping Lila in her arms. “Here, set it here,” she said, helping Cooper open the coloring book. “What shall we color first, huh?”

* * * *

Nearly eleven minutes later, Natasha knelt down next to the man she’d cornered in Home and Garden and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Coincidence.”

“Yup.” Clint sounded close to laughter, the traitor.

“The whole thing. Coincidence.”

“Looks that way.”

Natasha sat down hard on the bottom shelf, which held giant sacks of birdseed. Slamming his head into those rather than the concrete floor was probably the only reason the thug was even still breathing. She’d need to hide the body soon, and alert SHIELD, but she had a few minutes to recover. The cell phone she’d stolen out of his pocket after their fight didn’t show an image of her, as she’d expected, but a completely random woman who looked nothing like Natasha outside of being the same height.

It had definitely been a hit, but she hadn’t been the target.

At least they’d saved some random woman, so there was that.

“We should’ve known they weren’t here for you when there were only two of them,” Clint said over the earpiece. He’d teased her about stashing them in Laura’s purse before they left, the traitor. And look who’d been correct to do so. It had kept them in contact as he’d stalked his own target back to the clearance section in the back. “Mine’s taken care of. You?”

“One minute.” She hauled the man bodily onto the shelf and tossed sacks of birdseed over him.

“I’ll get the phones and swing by to steal the surveillance. You fetch Laura and the kids.”

Natasha winced. The last thing she wanted to do was face Laura after ruining this outing for everybody. “I think they’d rather see their daddy after being stuffed in a dark place out of nowhere.”

“Nah, Auntie Nat is just as good,” Clint said. “Face it, you’re part of the family now, god help you.”

“Yeah, part of the family that can’t even let us go grocery shopping without disaster striking.”

There was a warm laugh from the other side of the comms. “Disaster? This is nothing compared to getting two small children through the cereal aisle without a tantrum, Romanoff.”

Natasha, reaching up to fix the braids that had become disordered during the scuffle, wrinkled her nose. She debated whether or not to swing by the staff restrooms on the way and clean up the lucky hit the thug had landed, but decided it was more important to get la familia Barton out of the vents quickly. The less time the children spent in a dark, scary place, the better.

She resolutely did not think of the absolute darkness of thatshipping container, which unfortunately brought the thoughts closer to the surface than she liked.

But she also didn’t want to scare the children, so she grabbed a hand towel off an endcap as she passed, and dabbed at her face.

Mercifully, the break room remained empty when she stepped in. “All clear,” she said, moving the table back under the trap door. “Invisible game’s over.”

From inside, she heard thumping. “Auntie Nat!”

“Cooper, wait—” was the only warning she had before the trap door opened and Cooper launched himself at her.

She snatched him out of the air, and absolutely did not think about what could have happened if she’d been slower to react. “Whoa, okay. Excited to get out of there, huh?” Laura’s white face appeared over the edge, eyes wide. Natasha mouthed he’s fine back at her. “Here, climb down, let me help your mom and your sister out.”

“I stayed so-o-o-o quiet,” Cooper said. “We colored in a dinosaur for you, but we didn’t know your favorite color so I picked red like your hair. What is your favorite color? There’s another dinosaur on the page, so if it’s not red, I can use that color instead.”

“I do like red a lot.” Natasha thought about it. “Purple, too, maybe.”

“You can’t have purple, that’s Dad’s favorite color.”

“Coop, more than one person can have purple as their favorite color,” Laura said, transferring Lila down to Natasha. Mercifully the baby had slept through all of it. “I like purple, too, remember?”

Cooper wrinkled his nose at that. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it purple.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Natasha promised. Once the entire family had been retrieved, she pushed the trap door back into place. Of course Clint had scouted this spot months ago. His paranoia remained legendary. “Family’s secure, Barton.”

“Got it,” Clint said. “Heading to the front.”

“Meet you there,” Natasha said. To the others with her, she tilted her head toward the door. “Ready to get out of here?”

Laura looked more or less composed, which Natasha had to credit her for. Civilians rarely handled those kinds of curveballs well, but she’d been married to Clint for a decade. It stood to reason this might not even be the first time something like this had happened. Her grip on the sleeping Lila remained tight. “Coop, hold Auntie Nat’s hand, okay? Humor me.”

“All right, I guess.”

“Everything good?” Laura asked.

“False alarm,” Natasha said.

One eyebrow went up. “A false alarm gave you a split lip?”

Natasha worked at it with her tongue, scrunching her nose at the brief spark of pain. “Just another exciting day in our line of work. It all turned out okay, if you ignore that we were unsuccessful in our primary objective.”

Laura looked blank, so Natasha prompted: “Getting the groceries, Barton.”

“Pfft, whatever. We’ll get takeout. We’ll consider it an adventure, and it won’t even be the first one today. Hopefully there will be less dust this time.” Laura leaned over, conspiratorially. “I am getting my phone back, right? I really like the case, and it’ll take forever to get another one like it.”

Years of espionage training kept Natasha from staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. Clint had told her years before that his wife was far more pragmatic than either of them, but she’d never had a chance to witness it in action before. She almost wanted to ask if this was some kind of backwoods Midwestern thing, but it seemed better not to do that.

So she settled into a helpless laugh. “Yes, we’ll get your phone back. The case is really cute.”

“Good. I knew you’d agree.” Laura squeezed her shoulder with her free hand, and it felt more like a thank you than Natasha had ever received after years and years on the job.

“One point,” Natasha said, feeling a tiny bit shy as as she pulled out a package she’d swiped on their trip through the store earlier. “We should probably pay for the coloring books. And these.”

Laura looked down at the bag of popsicle sticks and laughed. “You really are a hero.”

FIN

(the target was a leaked witsec hit. Bad timing all around)

#avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #laura barton #cooper barton #lila barton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #not simple to say verse

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nanamikeento · 4 years

Text

innamorato

Pairing: Javier Peña x female!reader

Summary: You sense something is off with Javi and try to talk to him about it.

a/n: requested by @abitofmagic with the prompt: “You’ll feel better if you talk about it. I’m here to listen.”

Warnings: smoking, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, fluff

word count: 3.1k

masterlist | part two | part three

...

Something is wrong with Javier Peña. You can’t really tell what, but you know something’s off when he’s not on your bed one morning. It isn’t unusual for you to wake up alone, after all, you both don’t live together, but considering it’s the weekend and you just had a perfect date the night before, it is a bit odd of him to just rush home.

Rubbing the sleep out of eyes, you sit up and stretch, letting out a loud yawn. A chill breeze hits your skin and you shiver, frowning in confusion. When you see the doors to the balcony open and the thin white curtains floating with the wind, you relax, seeing Javi’s silhouette outside. You quickly search for a sweater and a pair of sweatpants to put on, leaving the mess of clothes on the floor to clean later, and head for the balcony.

Javier is shirtless, wearing only the suit pants he wore last night, sitting at the small table you have outside, one leg bent, and leaning his elbow on his knee. A lit cigarette is between his fingers, but he’s not even smoking it; his gaze is set on the view of buildings and houses in front of him. The sky is cloudy and the air is cold and you know he shouldn’t be out in the open.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” You say, hugging yourself as you step outside to join him.

He looks up at you and gives you a grin. Approaching him, you take the cigarette from his hand and take a drag of it yourself before giving it back to him. His skin is cold as you lay a palm flat on his shoulder, pulling him for a side hug. You lean your chin on his shoulder and press a kiss on his cheek.

“You okay?” You ask and he nods.

“Better now.” His voice is different like it’s still laced with sleep. You know something’s not right, but you don’t press it, knowing he’s a man of few words. You let him press his lips to yours in a sweet short kiss.

“Breakfast?” You smile at him and Javi nods, mirroring your smile. “Come inside, then. I’ll even make bacon for you.”

Javi raises his eyebrows in surprise. Ever since you started sleeping together, you’d always told him that you never eat bacon in the mornings because you always get lazy to wash the pan later.

“Will you, now?” He asks, amusement in his tone. You straighten your posture and take his hand, shrugging one shoulder.

“I’m feeling generous today.”

“What did I do to deserve you, huh?” He gives you a full smile and pulls you to another kiss. A longer one this time, his touch lingering on your skin as he cups your cheek gently. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

Nodding, you run your finger through his hair gently. “Don’t take long.”

Javi watches you enter the apartment again. He cares about you a lot and it impresses him that, despite not knowing him for a long period of time, you picked up on his habits and routine quickly. And he’ll be damned, he actually likes that. He actually enjoys the weekend dates, the quiet evenings in your apartment, the unplanned ones in his. He likes you, he really does.

And that’s what scares him.

Javier Peña isn’t a one woman man. He knows that. Ever since Lorraine, he’s convinced himself he’s not worthy of anyone’s love. Until he met you. Until he laid eyes on your figure in a coffee shop, as cliche as it sounds, one morning before he checked in at work. He could tell you were a teacher too, with a pile of papers in front of you as you scribbled fast on each one. You were grading papers in a coffee shop, at 7:30 in the morning. He was amused immediately by you. Couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Javier had to admit he stared at you that day more than he stared at any other woman. He remembers when you checked your wristwatch and quickly downed your cold coffee, gathering the papers from your desk, shoving them in your briefcase to leave the shop hurriedly. On your way out, Javier noticed you left a few papers on the table and left the line to order to scoop them and run after you.

“Oh, thank you!” You had sighed after he called you on the street, holding the papers out to you. “You’re a lifesaver, my kids would be so disappointed!”

If Javier thought you were pretty from afar, he was certain you were beautiful from up close. You had smiled at him when he frowned and explained you were a elementary school teacher and you had asked your students to write an essay on mother nature. You were supposed to give them back that day but hadn't finished grading them until that morning.

And that’s how you two met. Javier told you he was also a professor, but a university one, and he knew the feeling. You both parted with smiles on your faces, each thinking about the other the entire day. In the next few days, you both bumped into each other in the coffee shop a few times, exchanging a few polite words. Javier couldn’t stop thinking about you that entire week, messing up lectures and forgetting to grade assignments. Until he finally got the guts to ask you out. One date led to another and a few months later, here he is, staying over your apartment on weekends and having breakfast together.

Javier smiles at the memories and finally stands from his seat, putting out the unsmoked cigarette on the ashtray and entering the apartment again. The warm air welcomes him and he sighs, closing the glass door. The smell of bacon makes his stomach rumble and he pads, barefoot, through your apartment to get to the kitchen.

You’re humming a song that plays on the radio, slowly moving to the beat. Javier’s chest swells at the sight. He could get used to this. You and him, having breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. You and him together. Staying in, in cloudy days, watching bad movies on television as you ate kettle corn. Making love on the couch when you get bored. Having a life together.

He approaches you, as you take the last piece of bacon from the frying pan and turn the heat off. You’re about to move to the fridge to get the eggs when he gently grabs your hips; you freeze your movements, tensing your muscles for a second, and then relax.

“You scared me.” You smile as he brushes your hair away from your neck and buries his face on your skin.

“Sorry, cariño,” He murmurs, placing a kiss below your ear. “Can’t help it, y’know.”

He nibbles at your earlobe and you gasp with the sensation, feeling his hands run through your body.

“Javi…” You sigh, still smiling. “The food’s getting cold…”

“So?” He slips a hand under your sweater. “It can wait.”

You turn your head to meet your lips with his in a passionate kiss. When he pulls away, he looks into your eyes and smiles. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

A soft laugh escapes your lips and you shake your head. “Even in my gross sweater and these saggy pants?”

“Especially in these saggy pants.” He bends you over the counter and you let out a laugh.

…

The week is passing by slowly and you hate it. The weather isn’t helping either, fall is just around the corner and the days getting cloudier and cloudier. It’s not that you don’t like days like this, but you’d preferred to stay home under the covers when the sun hides behind the clouds. Which takes your mind back to last weekend, where you were all day under the covers with Javier. You have to admit that lately, he has been more affectionate than ever. It started with extra touches: a hand on your lower back, a brush of fingertips on your cheeks, his hands tangled on your hair. Then, random kisses anywhere, your hair, your forehead, the back of your hand… And then, the compliments. Even if you’re at your worst, he’ll tell you you look pretty. While you like these kind of gestures, the change of behavior surprises you every now and then.

Sighing, you sit on your desk, placing the awful coffee from the teacher’s room machine on the table, and getting ready to grade these quizzes. You’re not worried about it, you know your students are going to ace it. But as soon as you start reading the first test, a knock on your door interrupts you.

Javier is standing at the door with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Can I come in, professor?” A light teasing tone echoes in the empty classroom. You laugh softly, taking off your glasses.

He almost never stops by your workplace and you almost never stop by his. It’s kind of an unspoken rule the both of you follow, but it’s not a bad thing. Even though you both long for each other during the week, you prefer not to get in the way of his job. And vice versa. But it’s nice to have a surprise every now and then.

“Just teacher here.” You smile, leaning your elbows on the desk.

“Sorry.” He shrugs, letting himself in. “Force of habit. Teacher.”

“What brings you here, professor Peña?”

Javi offers you the cup of coffee. “Just dropping this. For you.”

“Javi!” You sigh, feeling your heart swell with affection as you take the coffee from his hand. “You didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to.” He leans in to press his lips on your hair and place a hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful today.”

A light pink shade creeps on your cheeks as you look away, taking a sip of your, now new, coffee.

“So, I was thinking,” He starts, looking over at you. “Do you want to come over tonight?”

Frowning slightly, you remember today is a Thursday. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a school night, but I just–” He hesitates, sighing. The next words are whispered in a rush. “I need you.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He has been acting weird lately and it breaks your heart to see him like this, vulnerable, sad, distant. So you agree.

“Okay.” You nod. “How does 9pm sound?”

“How about eight? If– If you’re not busy–”

“I’m not, don’t worry. Eight is perfect.” You smile widely at him.

“Great, great.” He smiles, nodding, and looking away. “I, uh– I’ll leave you to your papers then.”

A laugh escapes your throat and you shake your head. “They’re math quizzes.”

“Right. Just be glad you don’t have a hundred of these to go through.” He starts to walk away from the room.

Smiling you stand from your seat and call for him, your heels clicking on the floor as you approach him. Pressing your lips gently to his, you rest both of your hands on his cheeks. It’s a sweet quick kiss, one that leaves him yearning for more.

“Thanks for the coffee,” You mumble on his skin.

Javi smiles widely, resting his hands on your waist. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah.” You breathe and, this time, you watch him go.

…

After an entire afternoon thinking about Javier and his smile, you finally stop at Javier’s door. You try not to think about the strange acts of affections he’s been giving you lately, or the weird moods he’s on sometimes, and knock on his door. You hear rustling inside the apartment for a moment and then the door opens.

“Hey,” He breathes, smiling at you and looking at your outfit.

“Hi.” You smile back, suddenly feeling insecure. You chose a simple dress tonight, not too fancy and not too casual.

When he gives you space for you to come inside, you do and put your purse on the small table beside the door as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. Soon, when you walk further into the apartment, you see a table set for you two.

“Oh.” You say, frowning. “I didn’t realize it was a date.”

Javi looks at you, a line between his brows. “What did you think it would be?”

“You know…” You trail off, shrugging one shoulder. He raises his brows and then laughs softly. “I would’ve dressed nicer if I knew.”

“I think you look gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, brushing his thumb on the back of it. “And I just ordered some pizza.” Javier leads you to the couch in the living room. “I thought we could just… You know, watch some movies.”

Tilting your head at him, you smile, feeling a warm feeling on your chest. He just wants to spend time with you. That’s sweet.

“That’s different.” You sit down on the couch. “And sweet.”

He smiles at you and presses a kiss on your lips. “Just wanted to spend time with you.”

Smiling, you look into his eyes. “How was your day?”

“You know, the usual. Giving lectures to uninterested students, grading awful papers… Yours?”

“It was okay.”

You both talk about your week until the pizza arrives and then you both eat, talking even more. You like this. You could get used to it. Javier is good for you and you like it. It doesn’t scare you or make you want to push him away, in fact, you’ve been waiting to find someone like him.

By the time you finish dinner and sit on the couch to watch a movie, you’re a little buzzed out from the wine.

“You’ve been different lately.” The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“What do you mean?” He takes the remote and starts setting up the movie.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, snuggling closer to him. “Like different in a good way.”

“Well, do you like it?”

Smiling, you nod, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He laughs at your reaction and shakes his head.

“Good.”

…

When Javier wakes up, it’s in a jolt, his heart beats so quick inside his chest he fears he might have a heart attack. Instinctively, his hand flies to the place where you should be on his bed. But it’s empty. Still a bit jumpy from his nightmare, he exhales sharply, jumping out of bed and looking of a pair of boxers to put on.

He finds you in the kitchen, warming some milk on the stove. You’re wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his socks that you stole from the dresser to keep your feet warm. Sighing in relief, he drops his head, closing his eyes and leaning a hand on the doorway to the hallway.

“Javi?” Your soft voice reaches his ears and he looks up to see you with a concerned look in your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He breathes. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I just– I couldn’t sleep so I came to warm up some milk.” You watch as he slowly walks to the couch and sits there, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. Turning off the stove, you leave the milk there as you walk to him. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

You know you’re pushing him, but he looks so distressed and tired that you can’t help it. You care about him too much. Leaning on him, your hand finds the nape of his neck and you tangle your fingers on his hair. Javier looks at you in the dim lights coming from the kitchen and almost breaks. Almost.

“You’ll feel better if you talk about it.” You insist. “I’m here to listen.”

“I’m okay, cariño,” He replies, his voice hoarse and dry. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he lights a cigarette and takes a drag from it. In a way, his cold attitude stings you and you can’t help but feel like he’s pushing you away. It’s the first time that it happens and you don’t know what to do with this feeling. He seems to sense your hesitation and puts a hand on your thigh, giving you a smirk.

“Javi, don’t push me away,” You whisper in the dark, your eyes already glossy with tears. “Please.”

Javier’s smirk falls and his face changes. His brows furrow slightly and his mouth opens; he puts out the cigarette and turns to you, placing his hands on your upper arms.

“I’m not,” He says, rubbing your arms. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“No, I know something’s not right,” You argue, trying to hold back tears. “In a moment, you’re treating me like I’ve never been treated before and in the other, you’re just– You don’t– You don’t talk to me!”

He sighs, dropping his hands on his lap, feeling defeated. “I’m sorry, baby, I just–” He closes his eyes. Now it’s the time to be honest, or else, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

“Yeah, I had a nightmare,” He confesses. “I’ve had–” He lets out a shaky breath. “I’ve had them since I came back from Colombia.”

Biting your lip, you take his hand and squeeze to encourage him to keep talking.

“Back then, they were just memories, horrible things that happened there, but now…” He finally looks up at you. “Now, they’re about losing you.”

So, that’s why he wanted you to stay the night. That’s why he wanted to spend time with you on a school night, because he wanted to make sure you were here, with him.

“They’re just dreams, Javi, They’re not real,” You tell him softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, you pull him for a hug and he gladly hugs you back. You were right, he does feel better, now that he’s talked about it. Javier feels a relief that he’s never felt before, one that he’s been looking for almost all his life. He breathes, trying not to let the tears fall and when he speaks, the words leave his mouth naturally, like they're meant to be said.

“I think I love you, cariño.”

Before he can process what he just said, you laugh softly on his shoulder and press a kiss on the exposed skin. Your lips leave kisses from his shoulder to his neck, to his jawline, and then finally on his lips.

“I know,” You mumble on his lips, smiling. “Javi, I know.”

“How?” He murmurs back, his lips never leaving yours.

“When you know, you know.” You finally pull away to look into his eyes. “And I feel the same Javi. I love you too.”

Javier’s eyes light up and he half smiles, cupping your cheeks and pressing your foreheads together.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

tagging: @bestintheparsec @adikaofmandalore

#javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfic #myfic

323 notes · View notes

castielific · 3 years

Text

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story.

Summary:

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day.

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

************

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens.

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles.

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate.

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!"

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before.

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east.

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off.

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby.

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now.

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone.

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today.

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin.

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky.

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet.

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear.

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin.

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex?

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze.

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them.

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek.

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar.

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint.

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't.

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone.

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures.

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck.

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes.

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile.

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here.

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind.

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled.

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way,

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint.

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'.

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this.

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer.

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not.

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it.

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough.

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces.

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass.

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here.

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey.

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole.

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes.

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?"

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal.

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her.

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments.

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse.

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely.

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off.

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout.

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up.

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand?

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away.

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant.

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair.

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face.

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything.

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…".

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there.

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash.

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!"

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really.

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly.

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?"

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?"

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

"I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know.

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile.

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled.

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time.

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension.

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day...

You can read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/castiel #dean/cas #spn fic #ao3 fic #destiel fanfiction #AU #pretend/fake relationship #homeless!dean #rich!cas #myfic #my fic #castielific #castielificfic

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ficforce · 3 years

Text

Little Wound Part 2

Joker/52 x Little Lady Reader SFWish Mentions of abuse and non-con

“What are you doing?” Joker threw a glance over his shoulder to Licht and gave a small shrug, The scientist hadn’t visited him for well over a month and a half, “I thought you just wanted to lay in bed all day, now you’re building furniture - why?” “Because flat pack furniture is easier to move through The Nether than already built pieces.” Licht rolled his eyes and entered the room that used to be where they stored random finds, “I know why you’re having to build it from scratch, I meant, why are you doing it in the first place?” Tightening a screw on the metal frame of the double bed and then picking up a vacuum-sealed bag, Joker heaved a sigh at the scientist, “Because,” he threw the bag on top of the frame and cut it open so that the mattress inside could grow, “You said, ‘Get up and do something’.” “I meant to fight the bad guys, investigate Ameratsu, go stalk the kusakabe kid… Not make a better bedroom to lay around in…” He was trying to keep his tone amicable but he really wanted to blow the long-haired man up with some faulty concoction. The room wasn’t at all how Licht would expect Joker to like it, the steel walls had been sprayed a soft colour, the steel ceiling was white, the usual bare bulb now sported a nice lampshade that matched the… “Did… did you lay a carpet?” Joker smiled proudly, “Yeah, so take your damn shoes off.” It hadn’t been easy for him to set up, what was essentially a steel box like most of the manmade hideaways in The Nether, into something that looked like it belonged on the surface in a regular house. “I’m going to get a wardrobe built, a chest of drawers, gonna have a dressing table too. Later I’ll grab some bedding and what do you think of a bedside table with a lamp?” “I think you’ve finally lost it.” This time he did frown and his voice dropped, he couldn’t hide how disappointed he was that Joker wasn’t taking the truth seriously anymore.

He wasn’t blind and Joker lit up a new cigarette, sitting down on the bed to rest his aching body, “It’s for Y/N, Licht. For when I rescue her.” Licht was quiet for a moment, staring at Joker and then at the room and the work going into it, “I think you’ll need help stealing more electric and diverting clean water pipes to make a little bathroom.” x - - When Y/N opened her eyes and she saw a ceiling above her and a lamp on a little table beside the bed she was on, she was confused. She sat up slowly, looking all around her to take in the bedroom she appeared to be in and when she looked down at herself she wasn’t in the shapeless, white uniform of the shadows but in pair of clean pyjamas. The last thing she remembered was fighting with a man with mismatched eyes and then the world morphing and changing as something made her think she’d finally gone mad. Then… “Fuck!” Her eyes widened and Y/N looked around the room harder than before, she stumbled out of the bed and hit the main light switch to disperse all the dark corners of the room. She was alone. Opening one of the two doors she found a tiny room containing a toilet, the smallest sink in the world and a shower. There was an artificial mirror stuck to the wall, she wouldn’t be able to smash it for shards to use as a weapon, a shelf with a few cosmetics she recognised from her time at Company 3 and a towel hanging neatly on a hook - no rail for her to use as a weapon either. Heading for the second door, Y/N wasn’t surprised to find it locked. This was a prison made to look like a cosy room. What was Joker up to? Was he going to lull her into thinking she was safe and then kill her - it was hardly any different from what she had done to him… would he try to humiliate her too? Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought of his pleading eye and the way he had reached for her; how he hadn’t stopped even after she had poured her drink over him as he lay there helpless. And now he was back. He had killed the Captain and taken her as his prisoner. Y/N hid beneath the bed, it was obvious he could find her there but as she balled herself up as small as she could go, the tiny space was somehow comforting, despite her claustrophobia beginning to act up and telling her to get out into the open. A scared gasp left her lips and she shoved a shaking hand against her mouth to muffle the onslaught of panicked sounds trying to force their way out. What was he going to do? Was he going to torture her? Cut her? Strangle her? Whip her? Would he… no, this was Joker… but then she had betrayed him. The thought of going through more torture was more than she could stand. The captain had continued to hurt her even after she completed her mission, he had beat her and whipped her and he had continued to defile her at every opportunity. He told her it was for her own good, that he was making her stronger. Sometimes suffering was just suffering. It didn’t make her stronger, it didn’t build her character… it had only hurt. So maybe if she could find that kind part of Joker, the one he had let her see, she could convince him to just kill her quickly. Y/N had wanted the pain to stop and the Captain had told her that the only way she would ever truly be one of them was to get rid of the original Five-Two, until then she would always be a spare card.

Her teeth began to chatter as she hugged herself tighter and her eyes stayed glued to the door. Unable to tell if it was night or day or even how long she had hidden for, Y/N fell into an exhausted half-sleep.

When they opened again she was back in the bed, the small lamp dimly lighting the room as it had before, only this time there was a tall figure sat at the dressing table with his back to her. Y/N felt her body move before her mind could register it, she scrambled into the corn of the bed, the blanket tangled around her legs and heard shaped pillows tumbled to the floor in her rush. The movement made Joker turn around to face her, he figured if he stayed sat she might not freak out too much, “Hey, it’s alright, Little Lady. I swear I’m not gonna hurt you.” He doubted she would believe him. “I don’t believe you.” See? He gave a little sigh, “I don’t blame you. I get it - I was in that same shitty situation. That green-eyed bastard used to beat me to a bloody pulp, he got worse the older we got. He beat me, got into my head, whipped me down to the muscle and on the odd occasion he was feeling a little randy, he’d fuck me too.” He’d been the one to change her out of her old uniform and clean her up, Joker had seen old scars and marks he vaguely remembered from their time together but he had also seen the new marks and scars - she’d really been through hell. “If I had been in your place, I would have done the same thing… I don’t think I would have been kind enough to leave you unfinished though.” He saw her flinch and he gave her a small grin, “But nice job on recognising you couldn’t take me head-on, gaining my trust and stealthily attempting murder like that - that was impressive!”

She had so many opportunities to kill him before that night. Like the times he would fall asleep beside her and be completely vulnerable. That had been one of the things that plagued his mind the last year but also gave him a scrap of hope; she hadn’t even finished him off and that had allowed him the chance to survive. The Shadows would have taught her to always make sure the target was dead before leaving… maybe she had wanted to give him that chance to survive. “Let’s just talk about it, Little Lady,” the man stood up from the chair and took a step toward her, “You said talking was how normal people do thi- Y/N? Wait, hey, it’s oka-” Joker stopped and lifted his hands in surrender as she got off of the bed to run into the bathroom, slamming the door after her. Leaning against the door he called through to her, “Y/N, Little Lady…” she didn’t reply and he heaved out a loud sigh; he had known this would be hard. “Don’t be scared of me, I forgive you.” He had forgiven her the moment he had felt the knife in his body. “I just want to help…” From the other side of the door he heard her begin to vomit and he opened the door, he had guessed she would try to lock it so made sure it wasn’t an option, “I’m going to touch you.” Joker wasn’t asking if he could, he was informing her so that she might not react too badly. He placed his open palm on the middle of her back and stroked up and down until she stopped being sick, the retching sounded painful and it was hardly a surprise because it must have been a while since she had eaten - she’d been there for less than forty-eight hours already. “Okay, let’s get you back to bed.”

“No!” Y/N’s reaction was almost violent as she threw herself away from him in the tiny space and he winced at the force that her body hit the wall, it was enough to shake the shelf above. He watched her breathing become rapid and shallow, her chest heaving and a cold sweat had started to break over her brow. She was beyond terrified. Joker gave her a little space, wary of the wildness in her eyes, “You’re scared this is all a lie and that I’m going to do worse to you than the Captain did. I get that, I know you won’t believe a word I say and I know that if I let you leave here then you’ll either get yourself killed or do it by your own hand. So you either stay here and be scared or let the Stockholm Syndrome start to kick in.” How was he still so bad at people-ing? Did he even register what he was saying half the time? Y/N was half tempted to yell at him for being so stupid but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she huddled up and hid her face again, “I did everything the Captain told me to… he just kept pushing and pushing and pushing me until I fucked up.” The words were muffled and her breathing was still too fast but Joker understood her just fine, he noticed her nails biting into her skin and without thinking her reached for her wrists to stop her. The action made her scream so loud that couldn’t avoid wincing as it shredded his ears; he didn’t let go even as she struggled and thrashed in his hold. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you but you’re hurting yourself,” Despite knowing it was probably the wrong thing to do, Joker dragged her to him, he let her wrists go and her nails soon found their way into his clothed arms and even into his hair as she tried to escape the forced embrace. It was better to attack him than herself he supposed. “Listen,” he said as firmly as he could to make her understand he was serious, “He was a bastard. A sick, twisted, son of a bitch, who thought he had the right to take what he wanted, that he could punish and treat people however he wanted and tell them it was their fault. He didn’t teach you a damn thing, his lessons were just his excuse for raping you. For making you think you deserved to be violated and defiled.” Y/N froze completely at his words, “He did the same fucking thing to me, from the time he was old enough to get an erection to the time I ran away. If I had thought for a second that killing just one person, no matter who that person was, that it would save my ass for even just one time - I would have fucking done it. Man, woman or fucking child.” He could hear her still struggling to breathe properly but it was enough for him that she wasn’t fighting him anymore, “He’s fucking dead, Y/N. I sliced him up into pieces and now the rats are chewing on what’s left.”

Y/N’s grip in his hair didn’t loosen and he had to twist his head a little to relieve the pressure on his scalp, “He’s dead?” “Dead.” “Then why… why can I still… why is he still in-“

“In your head?” he murmured, “Yeah, he was in mine too - drove me kinda mad.” Finally, she seemed to be able to take a deep breath and her urge to fight him was replaced with a trembling that seemed to go through every nerve and limb. The man loosened his hold a little, giving her the chance to get away if she wanted; to his surprise she stayed in his embrace, her fingers unlatching from his hair as she slowly dropped them to his shoulders and put her face into his neck.“I know you’re scared and I know you can’t trust me yet… But listen up, I promise I’ll let you feel the warmth of the sun again.”

#joker/52 #reader #fire force #non con mention #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #garth ennis

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

Text

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 2

Richie's phone buzzed. Instantaneously, his phone was out of his pocket and into his hand, and he opted to check the message rather than watch the sidewalk ahead of him. A grin split his face and he caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth, biting down on that instead of letting out an excited little squeal. The text was from an unknown number and read,

Hi, it's Bill from the coffee shop. Can I get the party information?

With another three guests set to come, Richie was all the more anticipated. That brought the list of guests up to an even 40. With flying thumbs, Richie tapped back his answer consisting of his address and the time the party was starting before saving the number into his phone underneath the name 'Stuttering Bill'. The phone was slid back into the pocket of his jeans. A stiff breeze whisked past him, and he almost felt cold enough to shiver, pulling the edges of his arcade-floor print button-up closer together in an attempt to shield himself. The sky overhead was a pale grey, promising rain soon to come and snow, too, in no time at all. It was nearly November, and while the snow usually fell heaviest from December to January it was no rare occurrence for it to make an early appearance just for a week or two. Again, Richie's phone buzzed.

Thanks. Any snacks we should bring?

For a moment, Richie pondered. He had a perfect reply locked and loaded but didn't know if it was too soon for this kind of joke. What he wanted to say was 'only yourself, hot stuff' and maybe he'd throw in a 'and the short one too' but he quickly decided he didn't want these three random people to hate his guts too quickly on the off chance that they weren't okay with guy-on-guy flirtation like that. Instead of one of the many cruddy pickup lines he has ready to go he says,

No pressure, unless you want something for yourself.

As Richie puts his phone away yet again he found himself right where he wanted to be, the lovely little family-run grocery store known as 'Hanlon Grocer'. The people inside actually tolerated him and took the time out of their days to run 50 bags of Doritos through the checkout, when a few other places he'd been to for party snack stocking had actually turned him away- it also helped that the owners son was one of his best pals. He stepped through the door, running a quick hand through his slightly wind-swept hair. Almost immediately he was greeted by the young lady currently working the register, the younger cousin of Mike Hanlon herself, Jennifer Hanlon.

"Morning, Richie," She greeted with a casual wave, attention temporarily stolen from the book she had open in front of her, "Mike tells me you're having a party tonight. I'm guessing that's why you're here?"

"You're a cunning one, Jenny!" Richie leaned against the counter, his radiant smile making him look something close to insane, "I have about an entire aisle of soda to buy from you!" Jenny smiled back at him, plucking her bookmark from the counter and slipping it into place. She closed the book, sliding it aside, and Richie caught sight of the cover- The Prestige, by Christopher Priest. It was a new one that Mike had been reading a few weeks back.

"Well, Mike's somewhere here. If you flash him that million-dollar smile maybe you can get him to help you carry some things." Richie clapped his hands together, and took a step back.

"Thanks a billion, Jen- I'll see you shortly, I'm sure. Get those scanning hands ready, I'll have quite the haul," Richie took a few more steps backwards, still talking to Jenny as he made his way further into the store, "I really hope you don't mind me always making such a big fuss!"

"Pshh," Jenny waves a hand, "You're our top customer, Rich, I could never mind!" And, with that, Richie spun on his heel, leaving Jenny to return to her fine literature so he could go pack his arms full of snacks, too many to carry for one man alone. Lucky for him, just as he was about to disappear into an aisle in search of his friend, Mike stepped out into view from nearer the produce section, catching Richie's eye.

"Sure an begorahh, me ole' laddie Mr. O'Hanlon, sor!" Richie danced along the linoleum tiles, trying both to stomp and float at the same time, graceful and intimidating as his Irish Cop, "Doh ye mind lendin' me a hand 'er two?" At once Mike set aside the crate of cans he'd been carrying, meaning to restock some shelves- in Mike's mind, that could wait.

"Morning, Richie," He greeted as he stepped away from the crate, instead beckoning with his head for Richie to follow him towards the primary snacks isle, "Putting off shopping til last minute again? Do I have to tell you it might be a little more wise to get this done a week or so in advance in case you forget anything?" Mike glances over at Richie, his eyes alight with a teasing mischief as they turn left into isle 6.

"No, my good sir, you do not." Richie clasps his hands together as he speaks, leaning over just slightly to rake his gaze across the bottom shelf. One bag after the other, he scanned in search of just what he wanted and- aha, there it was, the barbecue chips, and, more precisely, the Lays barbecue chips.

"I called in for an extra order of those just for you," Mike gave Richie's shoulder a gentle push, which Richie returned with one of his own.

"Oh, you!" He was now the Southern Belle, a hand spread on his chest as he batted his eyelashes, "You really shouldn't have, Sir Michael, you are just too kind!" With that, the charade was abandoned and Richie dropped to his knees, none-too-graciously jamming his absurdly long arms onto either side of the rows of barbecue chips. As if they were his bride, he scooped them up, holding them with as much care as he would if this metaphor were true.

"Do you... want a basket?" Mike was snickering to himself, one hand lifted to hover over his toothy grin, the other planted on his hip. "Let me get you a basket." Richie was left alone for a second as Mike hurried away. Right, a basket- that... that could have been smart, Richie thinks to himself, but he isn't always too smart. Case in point, instead of recognizing that his arms were way too full and he couldn't carry anything else, he got distracted by the rows of chocolate bars and hobbled his way over there. A box of Atomic Fireballs sat in the midst of the candy, basically begging him to buy them. Against his better judgement, he tried to free up one hand enough to snag the candy.

-----

Eddie's gaze darted back and forth between two different cereal boxes- the classic Corn Flakes or the new Special K. One had less sugar, the other less calories, and he would be getting about the same amount of cereal for the same price but- All of a sudden, Eddie's careful thinking is interrupted by a crash, and he leaps nearly three feet in the air at the sound of it, letting out a horribly embarrassing sound like a quite shriek. Both cereal boxes went to the ground and he suddenly didn't care about them any more. A sound like that couldn't possibly mean anything good, could it? Someone might have been hurt and he has the equipment with him right now to help them on some minimal scale. Eddie hurried forwards, exiting his aisle and heading straight for the source of the noise in aisle six. As he sped around the corner, he came skidding to a halt for just a moment before pushing forwards once more and stopping at the side of someone covered in a mixture of chip bags, candies, and metal.

"Shit, are you okay? Anything hurt? Here, let me help-" A little metal rack in the center of the aisle had been pulled over onto the poor guy trapped underneath, one rung jabbed against his ribs in a manner that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Eddie fastened his hands around the rack as best he could, pulling it off and away as quickly as possible. As soon as it was pushed aside his full attention went back to whoever had been trapped underneath, and a gust of familiarity punched him right in the stomach. The only one Eddie had ever seen wearing those wretched thick-framed glasses had been the coffee guy from the night before. Eddie brushed away the pang of annoyance in his gut and helped brush bags of barbecue chips aside to pull the barista into a sitting position.

"Ah, thanks," The guy said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up and reaching for one of the bags of chips. He frowned as he picked it up, suspecting it for damage and most likely discovering that at least half of it's contents were crushed, "My bad for the trouble, my long-ass limbs sometimes get the-" He paused, finally looking up at Eddie, and then his own eyes lit with recognition and he was grinning like a maniac. "Hey, I know you! New guy! Eds!" Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname, brushing right past him.

"Are you okay? Hurt at all? Do I need to call a doctor? When did you last get a tetanus shot? Are you bleeding anywhere?" Eddie was already moving to unzip his trusty fanny pack, knowing he had butterfly tape, disinfectant, bandages and all things alike just inside. "How are you feeling? Dizzy at all? You might have hit your head or something and-"

"Hey, calm down there buddy, you'll give yourself an aneurysm if you don't stop and take a breath!" The barista was chuckling again, hands held out in front of him in some attempt to calm Eddie's already-racing thoughts. Worst case scenarios sprung up left and right, the current most prominent possibility being that this goof could get some sort of instantaneous infection that would transform him into a zombie, "I'm just fine, actually. I've taken quite a few tumbles in my day and this is nothin'. If anything, I'd be more concerned for the chips!" He went to climb to his feet, and Eddie was almost reluctant to allow that. Maybe he'd throw out his back or tear a muscle or fall again- he shoved the thoughts away and instead just stood as well. "Thanks, Eds," The guy said with a big glowing grin and a shrug of his shoulders, one hand rising to scratch at the back of his neck, "If I'd known you were here to save the day I'd have fallen sooner! My knight in shining armor!"

"Don't-" Eddie began, biting his tongue and then finally snapping out, "Don't call me Eds! And for the love of God, don't go getting yourself hurt just for the hell of it. That's stupid. You could have broken something!" Crossing his arms over his chest, Eddie huffed out a breath, shaking his head out of disapproval. Eddie's damsel in distress opened his mouth to speak when a new voice sliced in and someone Eddie hadn't seen before hurried around the corner with concern etched into his every feature and a shopping basket slung over one arm.

"Richie, what- What happened? You okay?" He approached quickly, glancing briefly at Eddie before his full attention went to Mr. Damsel- or, otherwise, Richie. Richie shot two thumbs ups.

"I'm great, Mikey, my good pal Eddie came to help me up."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mikey set down his basket and turned to Eddie instead, extending a hand and a friendly smile, "I'm Mike. I didn't mean to intrude if you two were talking, but Rich tends to get himself hurt more than the average human male. It's second nature now to fret over him." Richie let out a scoff, adopting a dramatic frown and upturning his nose.

"It's really hard to control my noodle arms, thank you very much! And, come on, did you really expect me not to go for the Fireballs? The heart wants what it wants, doesn't it?" Eddie let Mike's hand go and, feeling a little bit awkward now to be talking to these near-strangers, said,

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I, uh... I guess I'll be seeing you again later tonight at the party," Eddie tried to smile, "Don't go knocking over any more display shelves." Eddie was just about to turn and hurry away, just about to get out of the social interaction when none other than Bill appeared down the hall, a grocery basket hanging off his arm, obviously curious and with Stan at his side. Bill spotted Richie, Richie spotted Bill, and then the latter was approaching with his Big Bill smile.

"Oh, hey!" He greeted, nodding cheerfully in Mike's direction as well, "It's you again! I juh-just wanted to thank you fuh-for the invitation to your party." The best thing Eddie thinks Bill has ever done is draw the attention away from him. He has a tendency to do that- most eyes shift right for him when he enters the room, as if everyone sense that he is the leader. That's alright, in Eddie's opinion, because he could never be a leader and is much more content to be a follower hiding in the shadows. Now, both Richie, Mike and Bill are locked in conversation, much more friendly and natural than the one Eddie had been caught in moments earlier. Stan takes a few subtle steps towards his much shorter friend, leaning over a little to hiss out a whisper,

"They'll be talking for hours, I can already tell." Eddie found himself smiling and nodding right along. Stan was absolutely correct. The chemistry that was already brewing was that foretelling of three great friends. "Interested in coming with me to look at the bakery? I can smell it from here and I want to see what they have." Eddie only smiles wider. He nods his head without seconds thought, only trying for a second or two to catch Bill's gaze before just giving up and following Stan out of the hallway and towards the back of the building. Matching him step for step, the two picked up a much more comfortable, much more pleasant conversation that Eddie actually enjoyed having. "The curly haired one sure talks a lot. What are the chances that we're seeing him again today? How many grocery stores are there in Portland?"

"Apparently just the one. Some higher power must hate me to make me run into him again." Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, and Stan let out a snicker, gently bumping his elbow into Eddie's and quirking a brow. In return, Eddie's own brows bent down into a questioning furrow. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face or something?" One hand lifted to wipe at his cheek but it came back clean. Stan just shook his head, a small smile ghosting his lips as they arrived at the bakery. "Oh sweet, sesame bagels!" His attention redirected, Eddie dismissed the odd look and moved to stand right in front of the glass, hovering over it and scanning it's contents but never putting his hands on it. That was icky, in his opinion- Stan was at his side moments later, scanning over the iced sweets just next to the bagels that had caught Eddie's eye.

"What do you want to bet Bill won't want us wasting our money on any of this?" Stan said with a grin, gaze still glued to a tantalizing slice of carrot cake.

"My soul. How much extra cash do we have to waste?" No one needed to speak another word. The two made a silent agreement- buy whatever the hell you want and defend your purchase with your life. Neither Stan nor Eddie would let Bill scold them for this. They deserved some sort of 'welcome to Portland' treat. In the end, they were both walking away with quite the haul- Eddie had secured a bag of six of those sesame bagels, and Stan had bought the carrot cake along with a loaf of banana bread. Just as Stan passed over the cash needed to pay for the treats, Bill stepped into view, hurrying in their direction with his grocery basket filled with whatever other food the three needed to last them a week.

"Wuh-what did you two get your hands on?" Bill doesn't waste a minute to start interrogating, though the smile on his face betrays his attempts at scolding the two. He doesn't even make them explain themselves, jumping to the next topic right after and beckoning with his head for the two to follow him towards the checkouts, "We should cuh-come here from now on. I like supporting luh-luh-local businesses. It's good for the economy or something, and Mike is n-nice." Eddie almost let out a groan- that was the last thing he wanted, because then he risked running into Richie again. It seemed he and Mike, one of the grocers, were good friends. Why else would he be worried for Richie's well being? Still, Eddie bit his tongue, instead answering with something less rude and more civil.

"We could, or we could go to a bigger store. They'd have more options- we'd probably get better deals, too." Clutching his bag of sesame bagels and hoping Bill would take the bait, he continued in his attempts to convince him, "Here, they've only got so many different things. If we went to the Superstore a ways away we could pick out healthier foods and stuff and probably save a ton of money."

"Eh," Stan answered rather than Bill, holding a hand out in the redheads direction to silently offer a turn carrying the basket, "I like it here. It's quiet, and it's all family run. There'll be less processed items available. You hate processed foods, Eddie, you should love it here- it's all organic." For some odd reason Eddie felt like Stan was maybe... plotting something? The curly-haired boy seemed awfully suspicious. Usually, he just went along with whatever else was decided, and rarely bothered to help in decision making. He never minded what Bill or Eddie chose because, as far as he was concerned, they were both logical and made great decisions. Alarm bells rang in Eddie's head and curiosity began to bubble within him. What was Stanley getting at?

"Luh-let's see how everything plays out. Maybe w-we'll end up going somewhere else next w-week, buh-but we don't ne-need to decide r-ruh-right now." The three arrived at the till.

"Good morning," The lady behind it looked about their age, with bright eyes and glowing sepia skin, her hair frizzy and light, like a cloud around her head. Her name tag read 'Jennifer'. "Chilly day today, isn't it?" Jennifer got right to work, not even glancing down at her hands as she scanned one item and then the next in rapid succession with memorized ease. Bill and her picked up a natural conversation, his great people skills showing through now more than ever. Bill brought up Mike, and the three found out that he was Jennifer's cousin- they also discovered that hers and Mike's grandparents owned the store and kept it running smoothly. Before they knew it, everything was bagged and ready to go. Stan, Bill and Eddie distributed the bags between them, said their goodbyes to the kind girl behind the counter, and made for the doors. The chill that had been in the air when Eddie had first arrived had eased, just a little. The sun peaked out timidly from behind thickening swaths of darkened clouds, and the taste of rain hung heavy on the breeze.

"We should get a cab. I swear to God, if it starts raining and I catch a cold I'm blaming it on you guys." Eddie grimaced as he looked up towards the sky, and the three set off back in the direction of home.

"What are we doing for the rest of the day?" Stan asked, staring up and around at all of the buildings lining the street, taking in every little detail Portland had to offer. Bill was doing just the same as he answered,

"I have nuh-nothing planned. I might take a n-nap or suh-humthing like that before the party." Eddie let out something akin to a scoff, though it sounded more surprised than hostile or anything negative like that.

"Don't you still have unpacking to do? You can't seriously be finished, can you?" Bill shrugged his shoulders, shuffling his grocery bags from one hand to the other. Eddie took that as a sign that Bill was, in fact, done with his unpacking. How, Eddie had no idea- shit, he's hardly finished half of his, and Stan couldn't possibly be done either with how much of a perfectionist he was. As if to prove Eddie wrong, Stan spoke next.

"I finished earlier this morning. You aren't done? How much do you have?" Eddie had brought his biggest suitcase from back home. After all, he had basically taken everything he owned with him; his entire closet, his whole medicine cabinet, more miscellaneous things like some toxin-free cleaning supplies- getting everything into a convenient spot (and needing to clean those convenient spots first) took time and effort and Eddie tended to get distracted. It made sense that he wasn't done yet, but he hadn't expected the other two to have finished so quickly. "That's alright, it's fine," Stan continued, cutting into Eddie's thoughts, "I can help you if you want me to?" Eddie was quick to deny that offer.

"Thanks, but I'm more than capable of putting my own shit away. You guys can do whatever- don't worry about me." Sooner or later, the three arrived back at home, and Bill offered to unload to groceries which left Eddie to get right to work. When they arrived back up in their apartment, Eddie dropped his grocery bags in the new, untouched kitchen and dismissed himself to head for his room. Straight down the hall from the kitchen sat Eddie's door, and behind that, his bedroom, perfectly neat and tidy. As he stepped inside, he took in the sight of it all again with a burst of pride- this was his room, and he finally had the privacy he had always craved. To the direct left of the door sat a small set of drawers with a sizable mirror mounted just above it. Facing those drawers was the king-sized bed fitted with sleek grey sheets and a whole seven pillows of different sizes. Underneath the bed was a rug, the floor a pale hardwood- two bedside tables sat on either side of the bed and a door to the closet was to his right. Finally, the piece de resistance were the large double-doors that led to his own private balcony- since Bill's room had an ensuite and Stan had a walk-in closet, he had scored the balcony and he was more than excited.

At last, Eddie stepped into his room, pushing the door near-shut behind him. The white, cold light filtering in through the glass panes of the balcony doors washed everything around him in a pale luminescence. Any minute now, he was certain, rain would start to fall, and he was glad to have made it home before getting caught in it. Eddie made for his suitcase, which was set at the foot of his bed. It was huge, silver, heavy-duty and still half-full despite a whole hour of unpacking. Pushing it onto it's side, Eddie pulled on the zipper and flipped open the top, not wasting a minute as he began to pick out the pharmaceuticals tucked within. Despite escaping his mother, he hadn't escaped old habits- paranoia still gnawed at his insides whenever he thought of sickness, his own weakened immune system- he pushed the thoughts away and began to arrange his assortment of emergency medications on top of the drawers. As he did so, he stared at his reflection in the mirror- the fear of sickness was, at once, forgotten. Instead, he found himself soaking in the feeling of his newfound independence. Eddie had finally left the nest for good.

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7: A Sentimental Journey

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 3,095

Warnings: None? I mean probably swearing but this is straight fluff

Tags: @divinity-deos @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @thecaptainsgingersnap @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge @wildcvltre @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @boredoomfm @voidnarnia @anonymousonion33 @the-passionate-freak

“Steve, take me to prom,” Steve nearly shot milk out of his nose. He’d spent the morning counting down the hours till school was over. The final essay for crabby old Lawrence was due in less than a week and you still hadn’t handed over his essay for his final rewrite, which wasn’t a problem, he could just wait until he was back in your bedroom. Steve liked your house a lot more than his. He liked your grandparents, especially Maude who’d sit him on the couch and show him photos from your childhood. He liked your bedroom and digging through your sketchbooks, he liked how comfortable you were in your own space. Samantha would sometimes join the pair of you there, eating popcorn and playing her 48s on your dusty Mickey Mouse record player. But most of the time it was the pair of you alone, working on assignments and swapping stories. He’d forgotten about Vicki entirely, he’d only joined Tommy for lunch after he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over.

“What?” he sputtered, swallowing hard. The whole table was watching him carefully. Vicki merely shrugged, batting her eyelashes at him. Steve’s stomach soured. It wasn’t as if Vicki wasn’t an attractive person, she was very pretty, but only on the outside. He didn’t really have it in him to stomach another night with her.

“I…I kind of have my eye on someone else, Vicks.” Steve watched as she deflated, looking down at her untouched kernel corn. “Besides, Hargrove’s probably itching to take you anyway.”

That was the wrong answer. Vicki immediately burst into tears, pushing away from the table. Carol rushed to console her, Tina taking up the rear. “They broke up last week, jackass.” She bit out, flipping Steve off angrily as she followed behind the crying Vicki.

Steve stood from the table, heading away from the mess he made. He didn’t want to hang out with Tommy anyway, especially with him glaring him down from across the table. He didn’t get why it mattered so much to Tommy that he do things the way he wanted. Dating Vicki didn’t make him more or less popular. It literally didn’t matter. They were going to graduate soon anyway.

Samantha grinned as she caught Steve walking over. “Harrington, twelve o’clock.” She whispered. You didn’t look up from your pad. The light had caught his hair right and you wanted to finish your shading before you lost the image in your mind. You heard Steve pull out the chair next to you and then your pad was tugged away.

“Hey!” you cried, your charcoal making a wide black streak down the page, effectively ruining the drawing.

“Who’s this supposed to be?” he held the sketchpad in front of him and then next to his face. Samantha chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “Is this supposed to be me?”

“Well, it was going to be till you ruined it.” You grumbled, snatching the pad back .

“That looks nothing like me!” Steve laughed loudly. In truth, he thought the man in the picture was too symmetrical and handsome to be him.

“On what planet?” Samantha scoffed, pulling her butterscotch pudding cup away from Steve’s greedy hands. He was a notorious pudding thief, and food thief in general, much to her annoyance and surprise.

“I get the best of everyone’s features…” you muttered, working on removing the mark he’d made “Not that there’s much to discard from you…”

“You missed the scar on my nose.” He replied with a shrug, grabbing your vanilla pudding. You both knew that you wouldn’t eat it.

You looked up “What scar?” Steve pointed to the bridge of his nose. You inched closer, getting a better view of the mark. Steve held his breath, utterly paralyzed. He felt like such a doofus. He was usually so smooth with girls, but you made him utterly tongue tied.

“Hm, yeah you do.” You pulled your face back, turning back to your pad, adding a thin line to the strong bridge of his nose. “How’d you get that?”

“Got hit in the face with a baseball bat in pee-wee t-ball.” Steve admitted. The participation trophy he had was from that game, his father took him out of the sport after getting hit. His whole team won the season, but because he didn’t play he got a tiny trophy from the league as a consolation prize.

“Seriously?” You and Samantha said in unison.

“Yeah, I made the paper and everything.” That was a point of pride for Steve, he had the clipping somewhere in his room. You and Samantha laughed at his cockiness. The image of elementary aged Steve with a huge gash down his nose and a toothless grin, holding up a dinky little trophy for the poor, underpaid reporter taking down the story.

The bell signalling the end of lunch blared over head and the three of you rushed to collect your things. Steve grabbed your tray, waiting for you to pack up your things. Samantha left without you, bidding her goodbyes to the pair of you.

Steve reached out to touch your elbow lightly, drawing your attention to him “We still good to hang out after school?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, we can look over your essay.” You shrugged, trying to get the electric current blazing up your nerves to settle. Your breath caught in your chest every time he touched you. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you liked him. You more than liked him; you didn’t even know how to explain it. You’d say it was love but you weren’t even sure how that was supposed to feel. All you knew is that the world seemed better when he was around and it wasn’t everything seemed greyer and duller. He was summer personified. He was sunshine and summer evenings and flowers and everything beautiful. And you never used to like all that shit. But now you wanted to bask in the glow of the sun that was Steve Harrington.

The hours till the bell always ticked slower and slower after lunch. The individual grains of sand cascaded past your eyelids as you zoned out in your other classes. When the final bell rang, the pair of you rushed from opposite sides of the school to meet in the middle. Samantha was walking disgustingly slow to your shared locker. “So, yeah I was going to ask Robin but I figure it might be suspicious enough to go with a girl, besides I don’t think I can snag another ticket so close to the deadline as is,” she’d been going on about whether or not she should invite her little junior paramour to the prom.

“Yeah, I mean most people already think you’re weird enough, showing up with a random junior might totally ruin you.” You sneered. Graduation was just around the corner, and Samantha’s acceptance to Wellesley was well taken care of. She was almost out of Hawkins; there was no point in trying to pretend that she was straight.

“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s her. She’ll still be stuck here after I leave, I don’t want to make things hard for her.” Samantha replied with a shrug, pulling her gym kit from the bottom of your locker.

“Just take my ticket. You know most of the soccer team is going anyway.” You replied, shoving her cleats into her bag. You dropped your textbooks onto the tiny top shelf and pulled your messenger bag across your body. You spotted Steve from across the hall. He’d just left his gym class and his hair was wet and dripping on his face. He bounded over to you, grinning like a fool.

“You ready?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You ever going to dry your hair?” Samantha mused. Steve shook his head hard, water flying off his to dry it like a dog would. You and Samantha screeched, holding up your hands to hide your faces from the water.

You smacked Steve’s back “Enough!” you cried. Steve stopped immediately, laughing softly.

“I’m gone, catch you tomorrow.” Samantha waved, jogging off to probably find little Robin. You and Steve headed off towards Steve’s car. He drove the pair of you home even when you weren’t hanging out. It was nice to have a ride home, Hawkins weather wasn’t kind in spring and even in May when the weather turned warmer and the sun shone brightly, rain could still hit at any moment. That was how you rationalized making maps in your mind of Steve’s hand on the gear shift and the way his jaw clenched when someone tried to cut him off or turned too slow in the left hand turn lane. He was too beautiful. It was painful to watch him, like staring directly into the sun. You thought about kissing him more than you’d ever admit out loud. It felt like wanting to kiss the statue of David, like Pygmalion with his Galatea, too self-flagellating to even attempt. You didn’t know why you felt like his creator, but you did. You’d done nothing to build him, to mould him, and yet you left as if you knew him better than anyone else. You understood his nature, the way his mind worked.

Steve parked in his driveway and the pair of you headed across the street to your house. Your house seemed to be a specific choice for both of you. For you, being in your own home was comfortable and safe. You knew it like the back of your hand and it felt correct to be there. A cocoon of security for you to burrow into. Recently, Steve’s mother had been home much more than a month ago. You couldn’t read his mind, but being somewhere else than his own bedroom was probably a nice change. He seemed to keep you away from his house when his mother was there.

You unlocked the front door, kicking off your shoes in the doorway and tossing them on the rack. Steve followed suite mindlessly, calling into the house “Hey, Maude! Mr. Y/L/N…” he still wasn’t certain that your grandfather liked him; he seemed at times disinterested and at others cruel and cutting.

“Nice to see you again, Steve.” Maude smiled, poking her head out of the living room to smile at the pair of you. Your grandmother liked Steve. You were certain that she’d like anyone new you brought home. She was desperate to meet any of your friends and refused to believe that she’d met them all.

You and Steve headed upstairs, taking your usual seats in your bedroom, you on your desk chair and Steve laying flat on your mattress, constantly staring up at the stars. You read back his essay to him, noting the problems you’d found. This was the third time you’d edited it and the words were well worn into both of your brains. He’d decided to write on way Heathcliff is painted as a monster within the text, a fine topic which Mr. Lawrence had suggested as one of the topic choices. His argument was that Heathcliff is painted as a monster because of his interest in a woman he’s come to find in a sisterly position in his life. Basically, incest isn’t cool. It was a hard argument to proof, because the answers weren’t in the text itself, you had to push him to find points within the spaces in between the words. You were proud of the final piece that he’d created; it was a strong case and a decent attempt at a college level essay.

“What’s the verdict, chief?” Steve asked, sitting up slightly to address you fully.

“It’s good, there’s still a few sentences that need reworking and a quote that I think you could axe, but even without those edits you can still swing a solid B.” you handed the papers over to him. The pages had the least amounts of edits you’d done for him all semester. He’d really improved his writing.

“You think?” Steve replied, flipping through the pages quickly, noting the wide circle around a bit of dialogue from the fifteenth chapter. He couldn’t help but smile at the wide, bubbly ‘B+’ you’d scrawled at the top of the page. You’d drawn a little smiley face next to the grade, a small touch you’d started doing after editing his second paper, a little one pager about the thirteenth chapter of Wuthering Heights. He liked the little smiles, they made him happy whenever he saw them, they were a little touch of you on his work, a detail he refused to miss.

“Duh!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Steve stood from your bed, turning his attention to your shelf. You’d let him go through your work before, a small feat of trust for you. You didn’t usually even let Samantha go through most of your work. You’d usually choose what people could see of your work. But Steve seemed to like the strange, unfinished, or messy works hidden in binders or pads shelved. He pulled out a grey binder, labelled in masking tape ‘Hawkins’ Most Beautiful’. He held up the binder to you, raising an eyebrow. “Now, what the hell is this?” he asked.

“That was my first attempt at a portfolio, before I learned what a portfolio was.” You replied with a small length. Steve opened the binder, which you’d turned into a sort of album with plastic viewers holding sketches in place, both in black and white and colour. He recognized the first one immediately as Nancy from about a year ago, judging by her ringlet curls. It looked so much like he remembered her, but he knew the girl you’d drawn wasn’t who she really was. Steve flipped the page. He didn’t recognize some faces, strangers to him, and you hadn’t labelled them with names. You done a couple recreations of yearbook photos, he remembered signing a picture of Carol, Tina, and Vicki from the previous year, the trio grinning in Hawkins High merchandise.

“You could do a whole like show with these, they’re really cool.” He held the binder up, pages flipped to the portrait you’d done of Barbara Holland. When you’d drawn that, you hadn’t known that she’d go missing or wind up dead, she was just the girl sat across from you in the library with interesting glasses.

“I’d want to redo them first. They’re all rough drafts. I planned to redraw them, choosing to emphasize one colour for each of the drawings, but then I also planned to black out their eyes, and then I thought they were all stupid ideas.” You explained sheepishly.

“No, don’t touch them.” Steve cut in “They’re perfect the way they are.”

Steve wasn’t much of an art critic. He certainly wasn’t an objective judge. But despite logic, you blushed heavily, turning your gaze away. You wished Steve would look away but he didn’t, you felt his eyes on you. “You really don’t have to be so nice, you know…” you muttered, looking up to meet his eye with a shy smile.

“Go to prom with me?” Steve hadn’t thought about the question before he said it. The subject had been on his mind since that afternoon and when he told Vicki that he had someone else in mind for the dance. At the time he didn’t think much of the statement, now it seemed obvious who his subconscious was alluding to.

“What?” you breathed out wide eyed and confused. You hadn’t planned on going at all. Samantha wanted to go, and you’d bought tickets but when she gained interested in Robin you relinquished your ticket easily to her. She’d have more fun on a quasi-date with the junior.

“Go with me,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have a date yet do you?”

“I don’t even have a ticket…I gave it away.” you replied, looking at your feet instead of him. You felt like such a little geek. You knew Steve wasn’t laughing at you, but you still felt small.

“I have two. And I want you to go with me.” Steve said simply, reaching out and taking your hand.

“Are you sure? I mean your friends all hate me and I don’t think your status as king will be damaged if they see you with me.” You replied, shaking your head as if the statement was funny. You couldn’t imagine spending the night with Tommy and Carol, and having it go well. You knew that it wouldn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be like that. It can be whatever you want.” Steve said easily. He just wanted you to feel comfortable and it was so obvious that you weren’t. “And I don’t care about those guys. I’ll kick their asses if they try anything.”

“Whoa, calm down, we don’t want you getting hurt.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling. You didn’t have to know Steve personally to know that he was not a fighter, losing to freak Jonathan Byers was not a small story in a small town. Steve laughed at his own expense. Internally, he knew he could fight when he needed to, to protect people, but he couldn’t exactly tell that story. It still scared him too much to speak of.

“So, will you?” he asked. You rubbed your lips together, unsure what the right answer was. If there even was a right answer. Your gut instinct said yes without a doubt, but your mind fought back at the notion of even humouring the idea. You’d get laughed out of the place. You’d get mocked. Steve was playing a cruel prank. He couldn’t want to be seen with you. But you met his eye and you didn’t see any malice there. His wide, expressive eyes screamed kindness and patience.

You swallowed hard, pushing away feelings of worry. “Yeah, okay…” you said softly, taking Steve’s hand again to steady yourself. Steve would protect you if he needed to. He’d promised to. And you trusted him.

“Yeah?” he asked, matching your tone.

“Yeah.” You nodded hard, almost as if to convince him as well as yourself. Steve’s face split into his wide grin and you found yourself smiling too. Despite yourself, you were a bit excited. You spent the afternoon with his hand in yours, not letting go unless you did, looking over the portraits and discussing what you saw in the faces. It was the first moment of peace your heart had found in a long time

149 notes · View notes

deathnotesecretexchange · 3 years

Text

moonshine

From: @cat-soda

To: @anakien

Prompt: For Mello/Near, a story where they’re undercover at a bar and start tailing someone outside. To prevent themselves from being spotted, cue make out in an alley.

Word Count: 1623

Additional Tags: mentioned rape, mention/implied human trafficking, (nothing happens to anyone dw), alcohol & drug mention, rated T for Tons of sexual Tension, Meronia

The bar is a hole-in-the-wall kind of nightclub, with sticky countertops and stickier glasses, and strobe lights that flicker and flash across the room in random intervals. People move together in a sweaty mass in the center of the dance floor; Mello leans over and mutters “Wanna dance?” into Near’s ear just to snicker at the vague look of disgust he gets in response.

But, no. Even if either of them wanted to, tonight they had a mission.

Residing in the seediest part of Seattle’s Chinatown, The Lost City was a central hub for various underground dealings. Among those were aphrodisiacs and date rape drugs that moved hands from manufacturerers to linchpins, and from there into the drinks of future mail-order brides. There were several men involved in the operation. Mello, Near, and the rest of their team had managed to pinpoint three of them: David Smith, Jason Liu, and Emanuel Rivera. Undoubtedly aliases, but identifiers nonetheless. Catch any of them taking part in an exchange, and Mello and Near could blow the entire operation apart — all they needed was a testimony.

As it turns out, though, eyewitness accounts are hard to come by when everyone is hellbent on keeping mum. So, one evening, Near came up with an idea.

---

“We’ll call it a date night,” he said with his palms cupping Mello’s chin.

Near was sitting on top of a desk, face shadowed by the many monitors behind him. Mello, settled neatly between his legs, ran his hands up Near’s thighs. “You call a night out doing surveillance ‘a date?’”

He tilted his head, eyes wide. “Do you not know how to multitask?”

Lover be damned, Mello was getting tempted to bite through the bone of Near’s thumb as it swept over his lips. He settled for taking it into his mouth and sucking instead.

---

So. Blue eyes sweep across the room, long since having gotten bored. Mello takes a sip from his rum and coke. Clearly uncomfortable beside him, Near almost seems to curl around his own drink. Some date this is shaping up to be.

If nothing else —he amends, looping an arm around Near’s shoulders and pulling him closer— at least they look good together. Courtesy of himself, of course. Near probably would’ve come in his usual attire if the decision had been left up to him. Pajamas, messy hair, curious expressions and all.

No, scratch that. At least they both looked legal, now.

Regardless, they were still having trouble blending in, standing off to the side as they were.

He takes another disgruntled sip of his drink as a man wearing a half-bun enters the main room. Mello’s attention immediately latches onto him.

Jason Liu, age 37.

He touches a hand to the choker on Near’s neck, pulls on it slightly. “Found him,” he says in quiet Portugese.

Near’s lips curl upwards in excitement. “Good,” Near replies in kind. He slips a hand into the back of Mello’s jeans and squeezes just hard enough to earn a glare. “I want to get closer.” He sets aside his beer and turns, a mischievous half-smile playing at the edges of his mouth. In English, “I suppose I’ll take you up on that offer from earlier.”

Mello’s eyes narrow. Near, what are you thinking…? “My pleasure,” he manages before the other detective sets off for the dancefloor.

There’s nothing subtle about the way Near pushes his way through the crowd, and just the shine of the lights on his hair is enough to draw Mello’s gaze away from Liu as he struggles to follow. Focusing so heavily on the other must have been a mistake, however — a clubber upends half their drink onto him when they happen to collide. To make matters worse, Near reappears at his side as easily as he’d disappeared, lightly teasing, “Alcohol is supposed to go in your mouth, Mello.”

“I realize that. Thanks, Near.” Mello lifts his wrist to his mouth and tentatively licks, internally grinning at the way Near’s ever attentive eyes darken and go half-mast. “‘s not bad.”

He sees Near’s attention dart away from him, then—

Going up on the balls of his feet, Near hangs his arms around his partner’s neck in a too-loose-limbed imitation of drunkenness. His breath is scentless —his drink had gone untouched all night— and it leaves nothing to focus on besides the resulting dampness and heat that meets Mello’s ear as Near murmurs, “The target is leaving the area through the back entrance.”

Mello looks around, quickly relocating the stout Asian man. Sure enough, he was just stepping out the door. He places a hand over Near’s shoulder blades in a kind of caress, hissing, “What, you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“You looked distracted. Was I wrong?” A sharp nip to his earlobe, then Near pulls away with an affected —dizzying— quirk to his smile and a touch of brightness to his eyes. “Shall we?”

Mello scowls as the other man slips away from him.

Seattle’s winter is sharp as they step outside, the cold air hitting his nose and cheeks with a special kind of vengeance after the warmth of the bar. The pair of them take a moment to glance around, Mello hardly daring to breathe in case his good ear happens to miss a sound.

Quietly, they hear the scratch of shoes against pavement.

Mello jerks his head in that direction and, at Near’s nod, takes off with Near close at his heels. They stick to the shadows to avoid arousing suspicion, never more than a few meters behind Liu. When he stops in front of a nondescript van, they step in sync into the dark of a narrow alleyway, creeping to the edge of the brick wall to watch. The back doors of the van open and out come—

—he’s turning this way—

—Near pulls him deeper into the alley.

The only other warning Mello gets is the glint of Near’s teeth as he grins, sly and stark under moonlight, before Near drags him downwards by the collar for a kiss. Their lips meet, teeth clashing harshly — Mello’s back hits the other wall with enough force that it shoots molten arousal down his veins. Ah, shit. He fumbles for the gadget in his pocket and sticks it to the wall-space next to him, then crawls his hands underneath Near’s shirt just to feel him shiver.

Near’s fingers reach up to tangle in and pull hard at Mello’s hair, half-lidded eyes watching the bob of his throat before Near sucks at his neck, insistent— Mello lets out a quiet moan that’s quickly cut off by another kiss. Biting at the blond’s lower lip, Near pulls away just far enough to whisper, “Careful. We don’t want to get caught, now do we?”

“Shut up, Near. Shut up, shut up—!” Grabbing his forearms tight enough to bruise, Mello spins until the other man’s back is hitting the wall —Near’s breath stuttering in surprise— and pins his wrists up against it. He tastes the heat of the other’s mouth, swallowing down the soft noise he makes, and moving his tongue molasses-slow against Near’s until the fog begins to clear from his head.

He pulls back, panting slightly but wearing a smirk at the way Near chases him out of the kiss. Still, he gently rubs the other’s wrists in silent apology as he lowers them. The air around them lowers by several degrees as Near relaxes against the wall, breathing hard through his nose. “That hurt, Mello.”

His smirk disappears. “Sorry. Are you—”

“No, I—” Near’s eyes open, revealing charcoal pupils blown-wide. “I meant that I liked it.”

Sparks shoot down Mello’s spine.

He works to clear his throat, and manages, after a few seconds, “Still. We should… try to be more careful. In the future.”

“...sounds good.”

Near twists a strand of hair between his fingertips. Mello tries to will his heartbeat back to normal. Offhandedly, he notices how silent the night’s become.

Near straightens up, suddenly alert. “The target!” He looks around the corner at where they’d last seen Liu, biting down on a reddened lip. “I shouldn’t have gotten so…”

“Distracted?”

Turning pink at the reminder of his earlier teasing, Near throws a cold stare Mello’s way, whose only response is to grin back, cat-like.

“‘Distracted,’ yes.” He sighs. “He’s gone. We’ve lost the target.”

Near goes into a crouch, hugging his knees to his chest in a forlorn manner, and Mello immediately decides that that’s enough wallowing in self-pity for one night. He brushes his hand through his hair, starting, “Well…” and wincing when he hits a tangle Near’s fingers had caused. “No, not exactly.” He frees his hand, then gestures to the tiny camera he’d stuck to the wall. Matt had handed it to him before they left headquarters earlier that night, citing this is a date, after all! with a shit-eating grin. “Check this out.”

Near’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He leans in, inspecting the gadget before turning to look over his shoulder with a slight smile, genuine and warm. “That was very clever of you, Mello.”

The soft-spoken compliment has Mello’s face flushing a brighter shade of red than it has all night. “Fuck off,” he mumbles. He takes the camera off of the wall and shoves it back in his pocket, huffing.

He can still hear the smile in Near’s voice as he responds, “Alright.” Thin, pale fingers interlace between his own. “We should go home.”

Mello finally looks at him, heart skipping a beat at the way Near almost seems to glow in the evening’s darkness, and concedes. “Yeah,” he says. He clasps their hands just a bit tighter together. “Home it is.”

---

moonshine (n)

moon·shine | \ ˈmün-ˌshīn \

Definition of moonshine

1 : moonlight

2 : empty talk : nonsense

3 : intoxicating liquor, especially : illegally distilled corn whiskey

(via Merriam-Webster!)

---

a/n: and then they probably fucked :p

my apologies to anyone named david smith, jason liu, or emanuel rivera -- i swear i don't have anything against those names >.< umm, it was my first time writing smth so... spicy?? so i hope i did well. anakien, if there's anything you want me to change, i absolutely will!!

let's see... special thanks to my friend, jean, for reading this over for me, haha!! oh, and the playlist for this fic can be found here!! thanks for reading!!

#submission

19 notes · View notes

kayliemusing · 3 years

Text

42: top 3s

1: Top 3 ice cream flavors - classic vanilla, birthday cake/birthday batter, bubblegum

2: Top 3 Disney Movies - Mulan, Onward, Soul (but this changes frequently lol)

3: Top 3 vacation destinations - I've never been outside of my home country so I'll say my top 3 DREAM destinations: NYC, Hawaii, a random countryside in either France or the UK

4: Top 3 places to shop - Dynamite, Sephora, Winners/Homesense

5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take - English/anything creative writing related, Interior Decorating/Design, Communications?

6: Top 3 make up products - YSL Touche Eclat Foundation, literally any Mac Lipstick but it has to be matte, & Fenty Beauty contour stick

7: Top 3 music artists - Taylor Swift - Of Monsters and Men - The Lumineers

8: Top 3 spices/herbs - Cinnamon - Nutmeg (literally tastes like autumn) - Paprika

9: Top 3 drinks - Diet Coke - Hot Chocolate - Vanilla Bean Frappe

10: Top 3 apps to use - Instagram - Pinterest -iBooks

11: Top 3 months of the year - May, October, December

12: Top 3 clothing items - My black/white turtle neck, high waisted jeans, plaid blazer

13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows - Bones, Supernatural, Brooklyn Nine Nine

14: Top 3 romantic dates - (I've never been on a date but if I had, it would be this) Evening walk, late night drive, late night coffee date (tbh anything at night feels romantic)

15: Top 3 kinds of flower - Water lilies, cherry blossoms, roses

16: Top 3 christmas movies - A Christmas Carol (2009), Home Alone, The Polar Express

17: Top 3 OTPs - Nesta and Cassian from ACOTAR series by SJM, Manon and Dorian from Throne of Glass series by SJM, Casteel and Poppy from From Blood and Ash series by JLM.

18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life - "I write not to find, but to leave" by Scherezade Siobhan - "I want to be myself again. I want to be six. I want to stop knowing everything I know" by Catherynne M. Valente - "The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get" by Joanna Hoffman.

19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself - my kindness bc it's not surface level kindness, but actually something deeply rooted within me - my resilience even tho sometimes it doesn't feel like resilience - my loyalty bc it is a hard as steel kind of loyalty

20: Top 3 kinds of candy - Maltesers, Kit kats, smarties

21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active - Walking, dancing, mowing the lawn/shoveling the sidewalk

22: Top 3 spirit animals - wolf, hummingbird, tiger (i googled it bc i didn't know and i was scared it was a joke but)

23: Top 3 petnames - I like 'lovebug', 'love', 'sweetheart'

24: Top 3 books read outside of school - The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas but viewers discretion is advised, Crush by Richard Siken

25: Top 3 most used websites - Youtube, Tumblr, Pinterest

26: Top 3 people you last texted - my mom, my bestie megan, and my sister bc they're the only people i text...

27: Top 3 hashtags you use - the only time i use hashtags is if i'm trying to promote some of my writing so I'll usually use writingcommunity, writersonig, poetryonig lol

28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow - Trista Mateer, Griefmother, obviously taylor swift

29: Top 3 guilty pleasures - buzzfeed quizzes, early 2000s music, romance novels

30: Top 3 summer activities - Going to the zoo, long evening walks, campfires and s'mores

31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle - hearts, flowers, random swirls bc it's the only thing i can doodle...

32: Top 3 aesthetics - cityscape aesthetic, autumn aesthetic, rustic aesthetic

33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars - a new car, a condo, another cat

34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself - facial, a large bag of maltesers, buying the makeup i really want but have been putting off

35: Top 3 celebrity crushes - Evan Peters, Matthew Daddario, henry cavill

36: Top 3 books from your childhood - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl, and Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmens

37: Top 3 accents to hear - Australian, super poshy british accent, new zealand accent

38: Top 3 scents - Fresh rain, vanilla, sweet cinnamon pumpkin from bath and body works

39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes - "WE WERE ON A BREAK" -Ross, "Guess things were just going too well for me" -also ross, and "it's so exhausting waiting for death" - phoebe

40: Top 3 cupcake flavors - tbh I haven't tried that many cupcakes so your typical vanilla, chocolate, and Pink Lady Cupcake from Babycakes Cupcakery

41: Top 3 fruits - Pomegranates, Strawberries, Raspberries

42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from - Pizzahut, Dominos, Pizza73

43: Top 3 sports teams to watch - i don't

44: Top 3 crayola colors - uh, i guess red, purple, and pink??

45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college - Certificates/Degrees in Copyediting and Creative Writing, and I think simply just deeper critical thinking skills when it comes to writing and books

46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read - I read more books than fanfics, I've read a couple on tumblr but don't remember the names sorry :/

47: Top 3 people you miss right now - my dad, my best friend bc she's in vancouver, taylor swift bc she's not on tumblr anymore rip

48: Top 3 fears - Failure, Loss, not achieving anything in life/not reaching my full potential

49: Top 3 favorite literary devices - Foreshadowing is always god tier, cliffhangers although evil i love those too, symbolism

50: Top 3 pet peeves - People dragging their shoes on the floor when they walk, when you tell someone your fav hobby/music artist/interest and they immediately go 'oh I hate X!', and people who go 'you're so quiet!!!' but in a way that draws in more attention and/or makes me feel more uncomfortable like i would literally rather die

51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive - Hands, nice hair, defined jawlines

52: Top 3 bad habits - Nailbiting, picking at my blemishes oops, lip biting

53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have - Cats bc they complete me, I've always wanted a Samoyed, and I've always wanted a turtle

54: Top 3 types of foreign food - Chicken Chow Mein, deep fried shrimp, japanese chicken wings

55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime - 'I quit', 'I love you', 'you changed my life'

56: Top 3 dog breeds - Samoyed, german shepherds, collies

57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies - You've Got Mail, How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You

58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak - French, Sign, and maybe Japanese?

59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) - The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas (but literally only for Cassian and Nesta), From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L Armentrout

60: Top 3 pizza toppings - Mushrooms, alfredo sauce, pineapple

61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to - Game Grumps, Charlotte Dobre, Megan Batoon

62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas - I want to get a tattoo on my wrist of the last thing my dad ever wrote me, a hummingbird tattoo right next to it, and then a cross on my index finger

63: Top 3 awards you want to win - National Book Awards, Nobel Prize, and maybe even Goodreads Choice Awards lol

64: Top 3 emojis - Laugh/Crying emoji, the please sir emoji that kinda gives off those puss n boots eyes, and the stars emoji

65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning - 1970s Chev Impala, tbh a cute little Hyundai Venue, and maaaaybe the 1964 ferarri 250 gt luso (idk if that name was totally right but i had to do tons of googling to find it. i don't know a lot about cars and i don't really have a top 3 lol)

66: Top 3 authors - Right now I'm really into Sarah J Maas, Sally Thorne, and Holly Black maybe?

67: Top 3 historical figures - Jesus, Anne Frank, Vincent Van Gogh

68: Top 3 baby names - Ryder, Leila, Gracie

69: Top 3 DIYs - Candles, refurnishing old furniture (i.e. my mom and i painted our wooden garbage can), and really just any type of autumn diy

70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors - Strawberry/Banana, Mango, Strawberry-Mango

71: Top 3 songs of this month - Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish, Biblical by Calum Scott, and Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran

72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked - I did them all bc I made it a survey instead of an ask meme ;)

73: Top 3 villains - Regina/The Evil Queen from Once Upon a Time, Cruella De Vil, and Moriarty from Sherlock

74: Top 3 Cities you want to see - Montreal, NYC, Vancouver (honorable mention: LA)

75: Top 3 recipes you want to try - different kind of salad and/or burger bowls, Stuffed bell peppers, and homemade lemon loaf

76: Top 3 dream jobs - Bestselling author, the person who runs a companies social media accounts, youtuber/blogger

77: Top 3 lucky items - tbh don't have one

78: Top 3 traditions you have - Christmas Eve Service and if I don't go to that at least incorporating reading the christmas story on christmas day or eve, idk if this counts as tradition but going to the corn maze every fall, and whenever it's easter/christmas/thanksgiving we always have a big meal w/ family

79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid - reckless abandon, dreaming about growing up with hopefulness and no dashed hopes, experiencing holidays like halloween and christmas as a kid

80: Top 3 harry potter characters - I've never read or watched Harry Potter rip (ok well i saw the first and second (and maybe third?) movie in the sixth grade I think) but I think I really liked Hermoine, Harry obviously and Dobby

81: Top 3 lies you were told - i don't have 3, but this one has a story but basically when my sister and i were in elementary school my sister got hit by a car and so the insurance thing was that she would recieve 10k when she was 18 and as a child i thought that was unfair so my dad told me that my sister had to split it with me when we were 18 lmao obviously that didn't happen (i think i realized that wasn't true in middle school)

82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now - Pictures of my cat, one of my sister in a hilarious filter, and a picture of my rocking my TS merch

83: Top 3 turn ons - Kindness, defined jawline, easy going

84: Top 3 turn offs - arrogance, unkempt, super loud and obnoxious

85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read - I don't read much of those so I'll tell you some sites I love for writing purpose's: there's Wellstoried, justwriterlythings, springhole.net (which is filled with generators if you're stuck and also tons of infomation and advice)

86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier - that toad in Mario Party was wearing a mushroom hat and that it is actually not his head, that immaculate means 'clean' before i misused that word like several times over the years, and that the one turn i always take on my way to work where i thought everyone didn't know how to drive was actually bc i didn't have the right of way rip me

87: Top 3 spongebob episodes - the one episode where spongebob and patrick find a ghost ship, that one episode where they form a bikini bottom band and perform it at a football game in a little fish tank, and the one episode where squidward has his first snowball fight

88: Top 3 places to be in the world - I'd love to be in NYC, Montreal, or Hawaii

89: Top 3 things you'd do differently - I would not have applied for RDC, similarly I should have just paid the 500 dollars to the one certificate program I wanted to do instead of overthinking it, and I wish I wouldn't have ended a friendship the way I did

90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood - Spongebob Squarepants, That's So Raven, and Hannah Montana

91: Top 3 meals you love - Turkey Burgers, Chilli, and Instant Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup

92: Top 3 kinds of tea - i don't drink tea

93: Top 3 embarrassing moments - one time in sixth grade I tripped and fell right on my face in front of my crush, this other time like a couple years ago i opened the door to my car and only realized much too late while i was staring at this random family that it was not my car, and when i went to the gas station to get gas and couldn't get my gas lid on my car opened and this guy had to help me which was already embarrassing enough but then the gas pump wouldn't work so i had to go inside to pay just to realize i forgot my wallet and had to shamefully walk back to my car and then run back inside the convenience store and then pay and then walk back to my car and finally fill my tank.

94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate - Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving

95: Top 3 things to do in the rain - have an existential crisis, pretend you're in a music video, walk through puddles like you're six again

96: Top 3 things to do in the snow - Sledding, Build a snowman, shovel it even tho you don't want to

97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o - phone, keys, wallet

98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see - Jurassic World 3, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania bc i'm a child, and the animation of the addams family

99: Top 3 art mediums - Writing fiction/poetry, painting, music

100: Top 3 museums you've been to - Royal Tyrell Museum, Canadian History one in edmonton lol, and heritage park in calgary

101: Top 3 school memories - Middle school dances when the popular kids would grind to the song "Low" which was always an interesting experience, in the twelfth grade at winter formal when we all shouted "SHUT UP AND DANCE!" at the same time when they played Shut Up and Dance, and the day i left

102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss - School, my sisters ex, 2016 bc she was a rough year yikes

103: Top 3 pick up lines - "My name is Will. God's Will.", "I'd like to take you to the movies but they don't like you bring your own snacks", "are you from tennessee bc you're the only 10 i see"

104: Top 3 sports to watch - none of them

105: Top 3 taylor swift songs - all too well - exile - coney island

#survey

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comebeonetwothree · 3 years

Text

Blog #8: Country Roads

07/13/2021

Currently driving through roads where pro-life billboards are placed in front of graveyards… we are officially on the road back home.

Traveling fast but seeing the most we have while covering 1,500 miles and two time zones in the last week. 900 miles to go. We jumped from Portland to northern and southern Montana then all the way through to Chicago… our last stop ;(

We met some really nice people out here- the kind of people that want to take time out of their day to interact with you. People actually smile at you and mean it when they say “have a good day.”

There were a lot of experiences this week that were indescribable. All senses were at full throttle from sleeping in the heart of Portland to camping in National Parks.

Being our last stretch of the trip, it has been hard to not feel sad when we are closing such a big chapter of our life. It’s a weird feeling of being sad but also still being so excited for the next stop. I hope the excitement doesn’t end.

Who

Who is ready to rumble…

In Portland we got to meet up with Maya’s cousin, Michael and his daughter Thea. He moved out there 13 years ago and never looked back.

He was telling us he did a similar trip with his college buddies back in the day and fell in love with the city, so moved there shortly after the trip.

Sounds fun, might fuck around and move…

Batman was ready to rumble, and fumble and everything in between. While whitewater rafting in Glacier National Park, we had the pleasure of riding with Batman The Guide. Batman, because you can’t change who you are but if you can always choose Batman.

He had been living in Montana for 17 years after moving from Oregon. He had previously worked in the park as a shuttle bus driver and recently switched over to a whitewater rafting instructor.

He was a funny fucking dude; the whole crew was super hyped but he had a comedic sense that made it an entertaining day.

While on the water, we were joking around and splashing the neighboring rafts, an independent rafter said they will bomb us with beers if we splash them. One of the other people on the boat yelled back, “Are they full beers?” and they responded by launching three full miller lite beers at our raft.

At the end of our tour, Batman gave us the three beers then we dedicated those three beers to him with a funnel.

More Friends!!! Its wild how many people we got to see throughout this trip. Hitting Yellowstone National Park, we met up with Mayas friends from home: Cole, Jamie and Declan.

They were just starting their cross-country trip from Nyack, NY, hitting the Northern route to the southern, vs our trip ending in the North. Funny coincident.

We camped out with them for two nights… it was too beautiful to just stay one night, so we pushed back our trip to badlands and stayed the extra night.

We were all out at this joint called Buffalo Bar, it had a great outdoor area with corn hole, ring toss and puppiesss. There is something so fulfilling in petting random dogs with a beer in your hand.

This one dog I was petting had an exceptional owner who was traveling him across states to bring him home. I spoke with the owner for quite a while, she was so friendly about letting me pet her dog. She really was doing it all, back at home she has three kids and two other dogs.

When people hear about our travels, their reactions usually make us realize how cool it is to have the opportunity to do a trip like this.

Many times they wish they did the same when they were our age, *cough, cough, go travel right now, cough, cough.*

This woman explained how she jumped right into working out of school and has always regretted it. Her children were already teenagers so I told her she should get out there and do it. Traveling her new dog home was a great start to the on-the-go lifestyle, she seemed to be enjoying it.

I later found out she picked up our tables tab… thank you Jennifer, you have a heart of gold and a generous soul. She explained her hopes that her kids will one day get out there and see the world like she always wished, and we were accomplishing. It was a pass it forward request, when I am able to cover the bill of a lovely traveling stranger. I hope I cross paths with this family eventually and pay it forward for her children that may travel.

What

What a reality…

The National Park pass is something you buy and are given access to all the national parks in the US. We got one in the beginning of the trip knowing we would be reaching quite a few parks. Unfortunately, we lost it after just seeing the Grand canyon.

It fell in a black hole… the area where your dashboard and windshield meet. Remember this when you put shit on the dashboard. It can slide right down to its death, the only way to get the shit out is by taking off the windshield.

Those passes are irreplaceable, of course.

In badlands, we posted up around 10 p.m. in our hammocks. It was a new experience for us, we thought hey its our last time camping, lets try it a new way.

We set our hammocks up underneath this podium and slept there. It was perfect for a quick and easy set up/clean up. There was a solid amount of people around us, so we weren't too worried about getting attacked by coyotes again.

Where

When driving to Portland we drove through the Redwood National Forest. This made me realize how long this Earth has been around.

Trees take a while to grow, and these trees were as thick as three full grown pine trees and as tall as two stacked on top of each other.

Neck breaking tall.

After crossing through, we hit the upper west coast and traveled on route 101 until we hit Portland. It was filled with jaw dropping views, so much so I woke Mary and Maya up every 5 minutes to show them the views. Most times it was the same view as before, just with a new massive rock to look at.

It was a relatively foggy day, so we couldn’t see certain lookout points, but there was something so majestic about the fog within the forests and hanging on the coast.

There were points where you cross over a bridge and there was nothing around you, just white. It appeared as being stuck in a dream or driving my bitchass to heaven.

Arriving in Portland, we stayed at a place in ChinaTown. It was so cute and located on top of a great deli, Charlie’s Deli.

We checked out a bunch of shops and stores while in Portland. While we were walking around, this coffee shop had the sweetest workers. They enjoyed interacting with their customers and weren’t just looking to take your money.

Portland is filled with mockingly friendly people, they weren’t mocking anyone though, they were just that fucking friendly. They actually want to converse with people... what a concept.

For dinner we went to this food truck pod place, which is about 15 different food trucks serving food, with a communal sitting area to eat the food.

We met up with Maya’s cousin there for a drink and to catch up.

Hitting Glacier National Park, we started our camping excursion. We started off sleeping in our car since we arrived late to our campground after driving 10 hours to get there. It was pretty comfortable and with the knowledge of bear attacks in the area, it was a secure place to sleep.

While in Glacier, we decided to go whitewater rafting, a whole new way of seeing the parks. It was so dope, the rapids were on the weak side since the heat waves.

After rafting, we found a great lake front public access point where we hung our hammocks up and took a nice long nap.

There are lakes EVERYWHERE here in Montana and great fishing! Let’s travel and fish all over Montana, okay? Cool.

We waited until 5 p.m. when the park lets you in without a pass, to do a sunset hike in the park. We took Going-to-the-sun road to the highline hike, where we got to see some wild animals!

In the parking lot we got to see a horned sheep (looks like a ram) and more mountain goats!! We saw three full grown goats and one baby goat.

This horned sheep actually stormed at us and we had to jump into our car. The people that parked in the spot before us left their cheetos on the ground. This guy was hungry as fuck I guess. Relentless to say the least.

This National Park is my new favorite spot-on Earth. Spread my ashes here. Moseying through the park was a full body experience.

All your senses are involved, the smells of the forest are beyond refreshing. The touch of the crisp air brings goosebumps to your skin, and the taste of wind in your face emphasizes the overload of oxygen in that area.

There are no commercialized areas for hours outside the park. Just a fuck ton of trees.

The sounds of different birds chirping harmonizes in your ears with the wind blowing and the rocks falling below you. Your sight is spiked the highest out of the senses. These views seemed so unreal they appeared fake. When you finally touch the grounds around you, you realize how really unreal this land is.

Heading to Yellowstone the following day brought a similar element of nostalgia. We camped right outside the park, on the state border lines of Wyoming and Idaho.

Our friends we stayed with luckily still had their national park pass, so we all took our car and got into the park early that next morning. We got to see some bison! Fun Fact: Bison and Buffalos are actually the same thing.

There were so many beautiful trees and hot springs throughout the park. So many cool colors to see. We also watched Old Faithful blow her hole!!

Getting to Badlands eventually, we got a campground directly in the park. Since we got there later than five it was free. We posted up our hammocks for our last night camping on the trip ;( when we woke up, the views were so cool.

Badlands is a shit ton of clay forming giant sandcastle hills all over. But there is so much green for a desert it was an interesting combination.

When

When can we shower…

We have completed so much of the drive home its wild. We stayed in an apartment for the first two nights in Portland and then spent the rest of the week camping.

We hit our record of days without a shower… 5 full ass days. I’m so proud of Mary and Maya, they really can’t stand being dirty.

When driving long ass 10 hour plus drives for a week you find yourself enjoying nothingness. Head empty is such a vibe after jamming to music and listening to murder mystery podcasts for hours on end.

Our music ranges widely, depending on crashing periods. Whenever Mary is driving, she is either blasting screamo edm music or 2000s pop music.

Maya plays some bomb bops; I really don’t know any of the songs, but it has opened my mind to all these new artists!!

I personally love the murder mystery podcasts, there were a few times I had to change it though because it got too spooky. In the case of this week, we were driving to camp in Montana and a murder mystery came on about the Montana Child Killer… dope.

Why

I have ruled out ever living in a city. From the driving on busy ass streets to the dirty smells everywhere, I will happily reside somewhere in the country. Where? Still have no idea… Why? Because there are so many pros and cons to all these places we saw.

I guess i'll just have to come back out here!

I’m really thinking somewhere up north on the west coast. The west coast will forever hold my heart, but I really don’t have the money or the ability to live in a city out there. Maybe one day with a bombass money making job.

Coming back to the East has made me realize how much nicer people are out west and how much slower of a pace it is.

How

How are we coming up on our last spot…

We are hitting our last stop… Chicago. Shoutout to my cousin for going to school here and letting us use and abuse his apartment! Hehe just kidding we will take care of it for ya, Owen!

It feels so strange to be this close to New York. Our license plates being from New York is no longer that cool.

I’m going to miss people peeping our plates and asking us about our travels and/or wishing us luck!

Thanks everyone throughout, we are almost accomplished with this chapter!

#blogging for beginners #fuck it #post grad #cross country #jubilation #travel #beginners guide #covid made me do it #road trip #bloggersdiaries

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel N°1 [The most beautiful flower could not satisfy me…]

Read on Ao3 !

Translated by @theokusgallery ! Thank you very much!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog , Error belongs to @loverofpiggies and Ink belongs to @myebi ! Enjoy your reading!

===

Ink sighed long, his back arched while he watched with a dull eye the field of echo flowers in front of him. He was desperate, desperate by his constant fails, his flirting attempts for Error that didn’t lead to anything. Seriously, why couldn’t the Destructor just accept his advances? Oh, yeah, because he had haphephobia, they were both enemies and, parenthetically, because Error hated him.

Yet, the painter just wanted to stop these perpetual fights, he wanted love and nothing else! But no, no matter the efforts, the Destructor didn’t want to hear anything.

A teleportation noise caught his attention, taking him out of his sullen thoughts to annoy him even more. He could recognize these steps between a thousand, so he left a weary sigh out:

“Nightmare, I am really not on the mood to fight now.”

The bad dreams master was definitely most detestable living being that Ink could ever know, and he was weighing his words! His animosity towards him wasn’t a secret for anyone and this hate was perfectly reciprocal. Yet, this night, Nightmare didn’t try any trick, any attack. He just set next to the painter without saying a word, visibly mad even if he was trying to control himself.

“I’m not on the mood either if you want to know.

-Bad day?

-Yeah. You too?

-Yeah.

-Error ?

-Killer ?”

They both nodded at the same time. What a poor duo… The only think they had in common was the fact that they both were as bad in love as the other.

Ink puffed his cheeks:

“I’m done making efforts for nothing! Seriously, I’ve been flirting with him for a while now to obtain nothing but hate!”

Nightmare laid his chin on his hand, irritated:

“Same. I make considerable efforts for Killer and this asshole still say that I’m not honest and that he’ll go with Color!”

New simultaneous sighs. They shared a look. An understood look as if, for the first time in many centuries, they were on the same wavelength. After all, … If their loved ones rejected them, what was left for them? What was left except them, two broken and sad souls, looking for comfort?

They brought their faces imperceptibly closer, staring at the other, ready to turn the page, to go to the next step…

And a crunching sound petrified them. Still near to each other, not sure if they heard well or not, they slowly spinned their heads to see behind them… and then they saw a black bones' skeleton, sitting just behind their back, who was looking at them, eating greedily a handful of pop-corn.

“Go on, go on.”, said the stranger, still staring at them.

The two others blushed with embarrassment, suddenly getting further to each other, recovering quickly.

“Who are you ?!” yelled the master of nightmares, unsheathing his deadly tentacles.

The stranger took the time to end his bouchée, then licked his fingers one by one before standing up and dust himself. Mad of impatience and rage, Nightmare projected immediately his appendages towards him… To hit nothing but empty.

“Wh…?

- What? You think I’m just gonna stand there and take it?”

Nightmare speedily turned around: the black bones' skeleton was now behind him, one hand in a pocket of his long violet coat and the other rearranging his grey scarf around his neck.

“…. Hum… Really, who are you? I don’t remember having seen you in the Multiverse! Ink intervenes, curious, while his pupils were turning into interrogation points.

- Yup, I'm new here, and I don't like socializing. But I like overflowing love scenes.”

The stranger tends his hand to the painter, a little smile on his teeth:

“Yo, my name’s Nyx, Nyx the skeleton.”

Always happy of meeting new people, Ink didn't hesitate to shake his hand:

“Nice to meet you! I'm Ink, the multiverse guardian! And here’s Nightmare, the bad dreams’ guardian!”

Bad dream's guardian who grumbled, glancing at Nyx. This one gave him an amused smile and stretched.

“Cool. So, you're a couple or something?

- Wh… NO! panicked Ink. It’s… It's just that…!

- That you've been rejected by your crushes and you're looking for comfort? Not lucky, really.”

Nightmare prepared himself to skewer Nyx but was narrowly restrained by Ink. Without even caring about it, Nyx took a huge bag that he had left near here and started to look for something in it. He ended up taking a notebook and a pen, then wrote.

“Hey, would you guys wanna do an experiment? said Nyx. I want to increase my matchmaker skills.

- Matchmaker? cautiously repeated the two others.

- Yep, like, I try to play the matchmaker. I can help you with your men.

- Tch, go die, mumbled Nightmare.

- Ok, I write ‘do not cooperate, prefers to let Killer to Color’ “

A tentacle caught violently Nyx on his neck, but he didn't even let his sketchbook down. Nightmare, mad of rage, rumbled with hate:

“I'm going to make you swallow your own teeth…

-… No problem. So, you know how to manage with Killer?”

The bad dreams' master tensed up, reluctant. He thought of Killer's face, of his smile, his laugh, of his presence that he could not do without anymore, that he would miss so much if he left the castle...

He rumbled again but let Nyx fall on the ground. The one massaged his neck, wincing a bit, but came straight back to his goal:

“I guess I can intervene then. Same with Error, isn’t it?

- How did you…? marveled Ink before getting interrupted.

- I’d just ask a place to live, please. A bedroom in the castle will be perfect.”

He took his things and dragged Nightmare and Ink in a portal, landing directly in the bad dream’s castle, in one of the main free rooms. Any of the two skeletons had the time to be chocked that Nyx continued, still writing on his notebook:

“So Killer doubts of Nightmare and wants to go with Color, so we have to show him his master's sincerity and take him away from the rival. Any idea? Of course not, or you wouldn't need my help. I'm gonna think about it. As for Error, we have to find a way to reach his feelings. I already have some ideas about that. Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

He dragged them to the door while saying all of his monologue, and it was when the door slammed and they were all alone in the corridor that they finally realized that they had been totally manipulated from the beginning by a completely unknow skeleton who, astound, seemed to know their entire life.

Ink was the multiverse's guardian, the creator, one of the most powerful living beings of all AUs. But beside his role and his duty, Ink was still a big child skeleton and immature who liked to have fun, and plainly, this secret meeting between him, Nightmare and Nyx was one of the most entertaining. He seemed to be a member of a secret group with serious rules like “Rule 1, talking about the secret club is forbidden. Rule 2, talking about the secret club is FORBIDDEN!”.

However, he was having a lot of fun and stamping with excitement, cross-legged on the bed of the room that Nightmare ‘gently' lent to Nyx.

The bad dreams’ master, as for him, was standing, crossing his arms, looking grumpy with a furious look. This meeting enchanted him as the undesired presence of this unknow skeleton in HIS castle, which wasn’t much.

And last but not least, Nyx, peacefully seated on the office's chair, doodling random things on his sketchbook while chewing some dangos' skewer.

“Ink, we’re gonna start with you, finally announced the black skeleton.

- Ok chief ! What do I do ?

- The opposite of what you did until then.”

The painter leaned his head on the side:

“What do you mean?

- You’re giving too much attention to Error. You’re always looking for him, talking about him, showing that you want to see him and that you love him, and I don’t mention the fact that you’re always trying to approach him.

- I'd just want him to get used to me and to try to touch me…

- Unfortunately, it doesn't work, so we're gonna change our method. First, stay away from him, don't talk about him, stop looking for him every time. You're preventing him from living by showing your affection too much. He's gonna feel jailed and forced, that's not what you want, isn't it? A mutually consented relationship his better, huh.

- Yes, of course, seen like this… I never thought about it this way.”

The creator looked down shamefully before refocusing his attention on Nyx’ speech:

“More, Ink, being obsessed with someone is dangerous for yourself. You're too dependent on Error's presence. Loving someone is good, but getting sick about it isn't. I think this will be as beneficial for you as it'll be for your relationship with him.

- … Change at all is going to be hard.

- Change slowly, then. We’re gonna do it step by step. Wen you’ll wanna see him, come up to me instead, or go to your friends’ place. Think about something else, draw, have fun! Intervene when it’s urgent only, when Error is destroying an AU, for example.”

Ink nodded fast, his eyebrows frowned, writing on his scarf all he must remember. Nyx smiled a little at Ink's attendance before turning to Nightmare. The bad dream's master grunted:

“I'm not your pet, don't give me orders.

- Advices aren't orders, only suggestions. And I know that you're clever enough to choose which advices you should to follow.”

The anger of the place's master subsided, but didn’t disappear however. Haughty, Nightmare said:

“Well, go on then.

- Did you say to Killer that you love him?”

The office shattered and Nyx avoided the massacre only thanks to his sharp reflexes that teleported him in the other side of the room. He wrote on his sketchbook:

“‘Haven’t told his feelings yet’.

- I don’t need to tell him, he knows it! yelled Nightmare.

- Not necessarily. What do you do to prove it to him? He says ‘I love you’ and your answer is a vague ‘me too’?”

Nightmare reminded silent, we could almost see smoke of anger coming out of his ear canals. Mad of anger, his non-response was a loud and clear confirmation.

“You're hopeless, commented Ink.

- Look who's talking!”

An amused smile stretched Nyx’s teeth before completely disappearing. He looked at his notes and resumed:

“Killer probably have a big lack of self-esteem to doubt about you that much. After all, the bad dream’s master answering ‘me too’ for an ‘I love you’ is more of an achievement. You dislike public marks of affection?”

Nightmare made a little wince, which confirmed Nyx’ doubts.

“I see. Well, in that case, we will do it slowly too. Show little affection marks to Killer in public, as often as possible. First in your privacy, and then gradually in public.

- … What kind of marks?

- Mm… little touches, physical contacts as rustlings, gifts maybe? And, no, violent rough sex is not an affection mark. Killer probably ended up thinking that he’s just a sextoy to you.”

The guardian froze while hearing these words, suddly feeling very guilty. He looked away, muttering out a small anthology of insults while clenching fists.

Nyx smiled again:

“We’ll already try to do this. I count on your collaboration.”

End of chapter one !

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

#Guardian Angel #nyx #inkmare child #vantablack child #killermare #killer x nightmare #errink #error x ink #fanfiction #undertale fanfiction

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bird-in-a-cage · 4 years

Text

Inspired by the wonderful @cockasinthebird, for being my muse and talking filth in my ear.

Whipped

Steve was riled up. Inventory day usually made him edgy, but this week was bad. Bad to the point the regional manager just happened to 'pop by' to help discover why Scoops was down a case of whipped cream and a whole kilo box of rainbow sprinkles. Steve was sure it wasn't him or Robin giving out too much, mostly because him and Robin just didn't give a shit about customer satisfaction and just wanted to get through the day as easily as possible. Yeah if it was a kid's birthday or something they would both put a bit extra on, pile the whipped cream a touch higher, be a little heavy handed with sprinkles, a couple extra cherries even. But not a whole case or a kilo's worth.

It just, bothered him.

It bothered him all the way driving home, tapping his thumbs on the wheel, his brain coming up with ridiculous thoughts like maybe there was a very specific thief that only took cream and sprinkles and not the cash register full of money, or the safe that lived in the back office also full of money from the week's takings ready to go to the bank. Maybe the delivery guys were running a racket, siphoning off little pieces of product and reselling it to make some money on the side. Maybe it was just the fact that Steve couldn't count when taking the delivery, which he knew for a fact couldn't be the case because he didn't do deliveries any more for that exact reason, because of The Butterscotch Incident, which he was pretty sure they were still trying to use up three months later.

The bothering feeling dissipated as soon as Steve saw rainbow sprinkles on his doormat. They did have the tendency to follow him home like glitter, but never carefully arranged into an arrow pointing inside under the closed front door. Steve rolled his eyes like he had an audience but still couldn't help the grin growing to his cheeks.

Only one person had a spare key and the gaul to decorate the welcome mat in such a way.

Unlocking the door revealed a trail of multicoloured arrows over the carpet, clearly placed with loving precision, pointing towards the kitchen where the only light was on, illuminating the scene in the hallway.

Steve kicked his shoes off at the door as always, and followed them like breadcrumbs. He wasn't sure what to expect, but what greeted him wasn't it. Even if the image before him did make his brain melt out his ears, just a little.

Laying on Steve's kitchen island, on top of his mother's best dish towel printed with little corn flowers and chickens, was Billy, naked as the day he was born. He smirked hot at Steve's presence, shifted to lean up on his elbow, and sprayed a whipped cream arrow down his chest, pointing to his rock hard cock.

Steve's dick kicked to life rapidly in his uniform Scoops issued shorts. At least this answered some of his questions. He stepped into the room and could feel Billy's smirk burning his attention. There were little dots of cream all across his chest, in seemingly random spots. Some of them were just simple sprays and others looked a little like cheesy love hearts. The two over his nipples definitely were.

"How long have you been here?" Steve stopped when he came flush with the edge of the island between Billy's tree trunk legs that dangled down at the knees. His thighs were warm under Steve's hands, sunkissed from sitting in the lifeguard chair all day, a small tan line starting to circle the muscle that Steve's fingers found with ease. He resisted touching what clearly needed the most attention, throbbing and standing proud between them.

"Long enough," Billy purred, reaching down to rub over the back of Steve's left hand, trying to force it higher. Steve dug his fingers into the firm flesh and resisted, just for now, demanding something of an explanation with the look he gave. Not that Billy was about to give him one. Instead he sat up properly, shook what was left in the can, and sprayed a picture perfect whip on the head of his cock. The designs he'd given himself over his body melted down a touch, leaving his skin greasy and shiny. Like he’d oiled himself up. It made his muscles pop. "You want me to put a cherry on top too?"

Steve felt his throat tighten as his mouth threatened to run over. He knew what Billy could do with cherries. The guy had been teasing him all summer with knotted stems left on the glass display counter, much to Robin's annoyance when she would find one. Steve knew first hand how talented that teasing tongue could be. He was lucky enough to feel it most nights.

"Oh, you wouldn't wanna be too sweet now, would ya?" Steve leaned his head down to flick the tip of his tongue through the little cream pile before it started to melt, nowhere near where Billy clearly intended the first lick to be if his unfortunately desperate whine was anything to go by. But Steve wasn't one for a drawn out tease like Billy was, and soon licked again, dragging his tongue slowly through all the sweet to find salt starting to weep through. Billy groaned and moved again, leaning back on both elbows, still elevated enough to watch.

Billy liked to watch. He also liked Steve to wear the stupid sailor hat, which he had thankfully left in his car. He doubted Billy would want to wait for him to go and retrieve it.

Muscular fingers found their way into Steve's hair, twisting and grabbing loose and he started running his tongue over more of Billy's thick, aching length, rolling down low, tracing the edge of a vein that disappeared into a well groomed tuft of musty curls. Just breathing hot over velvety skin was enough to make Billy's thighs tense. He must have been here for a while, just hard and waiting for the grand reveal.

Fuck, if that wasn't a thought to ponder on later.

Just as evenly paced, Steve worked his way back up and slipped his lips around the head in a perfect o, pressing his tongue up firm against the sensitive underside and swirling in a slow circle around all those responsive nerve endings, like he was licking up a dripping cone. The hand on the back of his head started pressing down, getting desperate. Steve flicked his eyes up and was met by dark pools of blue like the middle of the ocean in a storm, straight teeth capturing a plump pink bottom lip to keep the noise back even though there was no need. There were only the two of them here if the purpose of the dish towel was anything to go by.

Steve’s mother would have a fit otherwise.

Only when the sweet taste of the cream was completely cleaned up did Steve start sinking lower, sucking down more until his lips stretched painfully but not unbearable, and Billy hit the back of his throat, twitching on his tongue. Steve groaned softly around what was in his mouth and pressed a hand down the front of his shorts to help alleviate some of the building pressure. Billy’s hand moved to the back of Steve’s neck as he swallowed as best he could, ripping free a strangled cry from the other boy.

“Fuuck! Baby… you’re so good, my double fudge.”

Steve pulled back his mouth immediately at that and pinched at the soft skin of Billy’s inner thigh, which caused him to yelp but not for a moment did it stop the grin under his moustache.

“Call me that again and I’m stopping. I mean it.” Steve tried to sound threatening, even a little, but even by the end of his sentence he wanted to laugh. They both knew he didn’t mean a single word. Not when Billy had literally caused Scoops regional manager to blow a mental fuse trying to work out where all the missing cream stock had gone just to get a blow job.

Steve didn’t want to look in his fridge, but he knew the rest of it would be in there. Depending on how much Billy had eaten during the apparent midnight raid of course. The picture of Billy behind the wheel of his camaro, squirting a whole can down his throat while driving was far too real. He didn’t even want to think how Billy had made it out of the mall with all those cans, but they were in the back room alone a lot, most of the time Steve didn’t have any real recollection of what was happening…

“You don’t like my nicknames, my sweet vanilla bean?”

Steve pinched again. Billy laughed around another small yelp, but Steve’s slender fingers soothed the skin this time, rubbing up higher towards Billy’s sac which looked heavy and full. Not touching but getting teasingly close. It was kind of a reward even though Steve hated the barrage of nicknames he got daily, all based around ice cream flavours. Well, he didn’t hate them really. Just pretended to hate them because he couldn’t really call Billy anything lifeguard related. Steve had called him a pool noodle once, which was quickly turned around as a nickname for his own dick. The timing of it had been quite impressive really so he couldn’t be too mad.

Billy’s hand on his cheek brought Steve back to the moment, to the urgency in front of him. With one last stern look that they both knew meant nothing at all, he sunk back down until his lips were firmly clasped around the wide base of Billy’s cock and sucked. Hard. With all intention to shut his boyfriend up. At least for now. Sweeping his tongue over weak spots seemed to do the trick as Steve started to bob his head, Billy’s hand just resting in his hair again. Not pushing for more or pulling for less, letting Steve take control of the situation at last. He knew every one of Billy’s soft points, had them memorised like landmarks on a city map. Knew the exact amount of pressure to put where and when, whether his tongue should be pointed or flat, when to suck deeper or let up for a second, using more and more spit because Billy liked it messy to the point where all the fluid was spilling down Steve's chin.

He may not have done all that well in school, but he would have aced a cock sucking class hands down.

It was no time at all before he could taste more salt, hear Billy’s moans getting desperate and ragged as he leaked more and more over Steve’s tongue whenever he would make his way to the tip to sweep across the over sensative slit. Every now and then retracting his lips totally so Billy could watch and observe just how much Steve loved his taste. A little ego boost.

The more he tasted, the more the pressure in Steve’s shorts got intolerable. But he refused to just drop and shoot in his kitchen. Not without getting Billy’s hands on him in some way first. And Billy could always go two rounds. Always.

Steve placed his hand on a tanned thigh, felt how tense it was under his fingertips, how much Billy was trying to hold back. That wouldn’t do at all. But Steve still had one card left to play, his guaranteed full house. He glanced up at Billy under hooded eyes, all innocent and coy in the way that made the other boy groan deep and protective, made him pull Steve just that little bit closer and push his head down just a little, desperate to be enveloped again. Steve obliged of course, but ever so faintly, dragged his teeth over the aching cockhead on the way back down.

Billy was gone. He cried out and came heavy and thick over Steve’s tongue, painting the inside of his mouth in three strong surges. Only when the grip on his head relaxed did Steve move, slipping off with an obscenely wet pop and shifted onto the balls of his feet to kiss over Billy’s sculpted torso, licking off what was left of the cream over his stomach hungrily and letting the flavours mix in his mouth.

It wasn’t wholly unpleasant.

Billy sat up before he got any further and cupped Steve’s cheeks to kiss him deeply, tongue licking against his, manic and bold. They panted hard when they broke apart, foreheads resting together as Steve cupped the hands over the ones on his face, thumbing across strong fingers that disappeared into his slightly sweaty hair. The grin Billy wore was adorable and stupid, blissed out but also still socially aware. Aware enough to notice the tent in Steve’s shorts and the unavoidable growing wet patch through two layers of fabric. The grin turned hot again.

“Need some help with that, my sweet honey almond?”

Steve was far too desperate and turned on to correct him a third time. He could do that later, once they were both satisfied.

#harringrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #steve harrington #billy hargrove #smut ahoy #cross posted to ao3 #my writings

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