#so i tapped the hamburger and just. immediately dropped it
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my first sandwich was uh. a Travesty to say the least
#pokemon#pokemon scarlet and violet#pokemon scarlet violet#pokemon sv#clai's art#i didnt know you should like. Hold the button when moving ingredients?#so i tapped the hamburger and just. immediately dropped it#and then i thought oh ok thats how that works. i'll hold the button next time#i didnt i immediately forgot to HSJVDJBF#and then i didnt even put the top bun on right so it was the most pathetic sandwich you've ever seen
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Creepy Tenko part 5
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Part 1
Part 4
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A warm breeze hit you as the door to the Mexican-style café swung open, bringing with it an aroma of steaming plates and exotic spices. You smiled. You’ve always liked this place, so it’s all luck that your new friend would meet you here. Maybe Tenko will like it too! …When he decides to join you of course.
You didn’t mind leaving him in the car as he recuperated, him saying he’ll join you in just a sec, but you couldn’t help the doubt clouding your mind based on his tired appearance. You swear to god if he falls asleep in your car you’re actually gonna kill him.
“Hey! Over here!” A girl called, her wavy (obviously fake) blond hair bouncing with her enthusiastic motions. She was waving her arms around above her head like she was trying to get the attention of someone from space.
You walked over there, a few of her friends loudly guffawing at stupid internet memes. You swear to god even from that distance you could tell they were resembling a middle school cafeteria table.
None the less, you sat down, your comfy seat squishing under you as you lost yourself in the cafes natural atmosphere for just a moment. A moment that was interrupted by said girl tapping her nails on the counter obnoxiously, lips puckered as she pouted at you.
“Oh my gooood! What took you so long? We were like waiting for you for like forever!”
You chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah sorry, heh, I uh… got caught up. I actually-I hope you don’t mind brut I met this really cute guy and I invited him.”
Her expression dropped immediately. “Oh my god! Who is it? Is he hot?”
“He’s way hot. You actually might know him, he’s really cute but really shy and he loves Super Hero Advent-“
“Yeah yeah yeah” she interrupted, “but when do we get to meet him? I want him to be here when we talk about how you stood up t-“
“Oh there he is! Hey! We’re over here!” You called to your seemingly clueless new friend, his hood pulled over his head making him difficult to identify at first. But you’d recognize those ruby red eyes anywhere.
The moment everyone saw him, the men’s balls simultaneously disappeared and the woman’s smile dropped immediately. Dear god pleas me don’t let him be the guy you were talking about. There’s no way, right?
He formed a small smile when he saw you, making his way over to the table without taking his eyes off yours, and consequentially bumping into a few chairs and tables. He arrived, standing in front of you with his face still flushed from… actually you don’t think you’ve ever seen his face not flushed. Or, at least, not when he wasn’t looking at you. Cutie.
You got up, allowing him entrance to the booth and he sat down immediately, again not looking at where he was aiming and accidentally squishing his leg against the blonde next to him.
He mumbled a quick apology, again still looking at you, while you sat back down.
“Have you guys met Tenko before?”
All their faces were ghost pale. Any and all chatter between them stopped, replaced by rushed whispers and fleeting glances.
You looked behind yourself, then behind Tenko. “What?”
“N-nothing…” she gasped out, stuttering while looking at Tenko like he was holding her at gun point.
He scoffed, his face losing a little bit of its color as he was reminded of the situation he was in. He scoffed, pulling the hood further over his face, scratching his neck and picking up a menu.
The table was dead quiet apart from his scratching, the air so tense you could cut it with a knife. You sighed, looks like you’ll have to get the conversation going.
“So… what’re your guys thinking of getting?”
“A restraining order” one of them whispered.
“What?”
“Oh, uh… a hamburger…”
You snarked. “Uh, you do realize this is a Mexican place?”
The guy blinked in shock. “Oh, yeah, right.”
You rolled your eyes, smirking, returning to the menu in contemplation. “Hmm, yeah, I think I’ll have the chicken quesadilla. What’re you getting Ten?”
Ten? Did this girl seriously just call Shimura ‘Ten’? Did she have a death wish? What was happening?! God what the hells wrong with her?
Tenkos attention was brought back to you, the small smile returning to his face as he rested his chin on his hand. God you were beautiful. He can’t believe he just wasted precious viewing time over some stupid social anxiety. Those npcs can go fuck themselves, all eyes are on you.
He hummed, mimicking yours and stopped his scratching. His posture relaxed, a sight that made you feel more at ease as some of the crushing pressure was lifted.
“Yeah I don’t know. I’ve heard their shrimp enchiladas pretty good. Maybe we could share it? Something tells me you’ll be, uh, eating light.”
He gave you a knowing look, prompting you to smirk and jokingly slap his shoulder. The blonde girl flinched when you told him to shut up, backing away even more so from Tenko as if he was about to explode.
But instead he just laughed, a big, hearty laugh that broadened his horrific smile and made everyone at the table shiver. They’ve never seen him smile like that. What in the ever loving fuck was going on.
One of the guys cleared his throat, the shock fading and letting him remember himself. Whatever, he’s not s-scared of this weird assh-hole. If he thinks he can ruin everyone’s good time he’s got another thing coming.
He broadened his shoulders, straightening his back and puffing out his chest, composing himself. Seeing this the rest follow, their fear turning into annoyance and spite.
It’s obvious you don’t know who this guy really is. I mean, why else would you hang out with him?! They just need to get him to leave, you’ll thank them later.
“So… y/n, how long have you two… uh… known each other?” The blonde asked cautiously, eyes trained on Tenko, watching for any subtle movements.
“We’ve just met actually, we’ve maybe known each other for, what, a few days? But I’d say we’re still pretty good friends!”
Tenko turned to them, beaming. “Yeah! We’re friends!”
He stopped, face falling slightly in contemplation, a small moment that made everyone tense.
“I guess that makes you guys my friends to-“
“NO!” One of them blurted, almost as surprised as you were at what came out of their mouths. “N-no, no I d-dont think we’re friends.” The shrunk back further into their chair, trying to escape his shocked expression.
You glared at them like they’d just kicked a puppy.
“O-oh, yeah… right, yeah sorry, I uh… I got carried away.” Tenko laughed, hardly genuine. Both hands raised to his neck, scraping the skin harshly while the corners of his mouth twitched.
The sight pained you, and you felt the urge to embrace him in a big hug until he felt better. Instead, you rested your hand on his leg, causing his scratching to slow down as he was reminded of your presence. You smiled, helping him calm down as said hand raised to take his away from his neck.
But before you could the blonde took her drink and splashed it on him. He flinched, the ice falling down into his pants and causing him to yelp and scramble out of the booth.
“Whoops! Sorry, uh, there’s a bathroom over there. Better dry that off before it stains.”
Now, normally, Tenko wouldn’t give any shits about stains. But… this was his favorite hoodie. So he nodded, briskly walking to the bathroom as you stared in shock.
All of you waited until the door slammed shut and the lock clicked.
“What the hells the matter with you?!” You whisper yelled, fired up and ready to throw some hands if they don’t apologize.
“What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with you? What the hell are you doing with fucking Shimura?”
You scoffed. “Relax, we’re just friends! God! What is he your ex or something?!”
She laughed mockingly, as if the very question was an insult.
“No he’s not my ex thank god! Do I look dead to you?”
“What?” The fuck did she mean by that?
“Listen. You have to get out of here. He’s dangerous. Cut off all contact with him and I’ll consider forgiving you for bringing that ‘thing’ to lunch. What, do you have a death wish? I-“
You interrupted her with your own mocking laugh. Tenko? Dangerous? Is she joking?
“Yeah, ok, he’s soooo dangerous. Seriously have you even met the guy?”
“HAVE YOU?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT HE-“
The door swung open and both of your mouths slammed shut. He sulked back to the table, his hoodie dry but not fully repaired. God, you hated how uncomfortable he looked.
Despite his previous seat, you instead offered yours, elbowing the blonde discreetly as you scooted down the booth. He took his seat silently, eyes facing the floor sadly.
You’d almost forgotten how uncomfortable they’d made him. It pissed you off, and you glared at them again. The blonde glared back, though you could see the way her eyes switched from you to Tenko nervously. You smirked.
“Hey Ten, earlier you were saying something about your new high score? How’d that happen?” You asked, his eyes lifting from his shoes to yours as he recalled the momentous occasion.
“O-oh, that, well… it’s not that big ‘a deal, you guys probably don’t wanna hear about it…” he mumbled, absentmindedly pushing around a dollop of salsa on his plate with a tortilla chip.
“Oh cmon, it’s a great story! I’d love to hear it again! I’m sure they’d love to hear it too! Wouldn’t you love to hear it?”
They said nothing.
“They’d love to hear it!”
Tenko took a sip of water, steeling his nerves, before he started mumbling the beginning of his tale. It took a bit, but with some encouraging nods and questions you were able to get him back to the way he was when you two were alone. Charming and enthusiastic, making sound effects and doing wild hand gestures as he lost himself in his own story.
You looked at him, hair bouncing, eyes bright without a care, a faint blush from excitement as he completely nerded out in-front of the bullies sitting with you, and you looked back at the girl in disbelief.
“Dangerous?” You mouthed sarcastically, looking at her like she said the dumbest thing ever. And she did, didn’t she? How could this little cinnamon roll hurt even a fly?
You could see she was starting to understand, they all were, that he wasn’t some serial killer and instead just a nerdy, special little guy. Finally, finally they relaxed, even going as far as to meekly ask small questions to which he happily answered.
By some miracle, the atmosphere changed, and soon everyone was engaging with him in his rants, laughing and smiling like they had forgotten all previous fears. Now you would never be able to tell that only just minutes ago were they cowering in fear over this goofball, finally letting go and seeing him for what he is, just a funny lil guy.
Tenko held back tears of happiness, so much positive attention overstimulating him in the best ways possible. He looked into their eyes and they looked back, this time without fear, and he had never thought of such a good feeling.
For once in his life, he felt accepted, and he never realized until then how much he yearned for this.
So of course something has to come along and ruin this happy moment. That something being, three masked men with guns rushing into the cafe.
“NOBODY MOVE! THIS IS A ROBBERY!!!”
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Bum bum bum, suspenseful music cue. You’ll have to wait a while till the next one probably.
Alright so I’m gonna level with y’all, this is not proof-read (like usual) because it has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I just wanna get it done… hope you guys like it, really sorry for the long wait
#shigaraki tenko#my hero academia#shigaraki fanfiction#my hero academia shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#boku no hero academia tomura#shigaraki fluff#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki smut
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[Transcript received 10/21/23.]
[There’s inaudible yelling before a sentence can be made out.]
Danielle: “John, she’s upset about something, you can’t just ignore that!”
John: “I understand, but she still needs to eat!”
Danielle: “Get her something light, dude! You can’t just immediately start her on a hamburger like she’s been eating normally this whole time! Did you even ask what she wanted to eat?”
John: “She’s constantly shaking! She can barely hold things, Danielle, she needs food! Real food! Protein! This is the best I could do today!”
Jenny: “… I don’t need anything.”
[The two stop arguing at Jenny’s voice. Danielle is heard audibly crouching to Jenny’s level, the audio becoming clearer the closer she gets to the phone.]
Danielle: “Jenny, babe, yes you do… I swear we’re going to help you, if John would just listen to me about this for five minutes!”
[John is heard inhaling to respond, but is cut off.]
Jenny: “No, no, I’m fine, really—”
[Jenny yelps as a loud sound is heard in the distance.]
Danielle: “Shit, what was that?”
[John gets closer to Jenny, his voice finally lowered as Danielle creaks the door open.]
John: “… Jenny, you look sick, you act sick… You need to eat something.”
Jenny: “I don’t, I’ve been eating, I—”
[Both cut Jenny off, saying “bullshit” with similar tones.]
John: “Drinking water is not the same as eating well. All we’ve seen you eat recently is a small bag of chips, and only because Dani was going to cry.”
Jenny: “No, it’s just— I just—”
[The door closes as Danielle returns to sit next to Jenny.]
Danielle: “Shh… Girlie, I know something happened, but you need to take care of yourself…”
[John is heard muttering.]
John: “That’s what I’ve been saying, if you would listen…”
[There’s a pause, the loudest noise being the air conditioning.]
Danielle: “Jenny, I know you’re dealing with something. You don’t have to tell us what, but please just—”
[The device vibrates.]
Jenny: “… Oh, Rose posted again, I just need a little peek—”
Danielle: “Jenny, no!”
[Jenny had already picked up the phone before Danielle could stop her. She is heard tapping a notification.]
Danielle: “Shit, and you were doing so well with your cleanse…”
John: “She should be allowed to talk to her friends, Dani! That’s all the contact they have!”
Danielle: “It stresses her! I just wanted to help, John!”
[Jenny is heard as the two continue to argue.]
Jenny: “No, no, wait…”
John: “Well, I don’t think that was helping unfortunately, she’s obviously been missing them!”
Jenny: “No, god, no, this isn’t… No…!”
John: “Don’t you think cutting her off from her friends would make her worry more?!”
Jenny: “No, this…!”
Danielle: “Excuse me, but if you paid attention when I brought her in, she didn’t even say hello to you, she was too busy checking on one of her friend’s blogs on Tumblr dot com!”
John: “Well, yeah! Wouldn’t you after what she’s been through?!”
Jenny: “No, this is a joke or something! There’s no way!”
John: “She’s said several times now that her friend Edgar is important to her—“
[John’s voice gets cut out of the recording as Jenny lets out a loud, blood-curdling scream.]
Danielle: “Fucking—!! Holy shit!! Jenny, Jenny, woah, what happened?! Jenny, look at me, look at me!”
[Jenny inhales and coughs, choking on air, before screaming again, her voice carrying agony. A thud is heard as she drops the device, then she drops to her knees, unable to stay on the bench press table she was sat on. Danielle is heard frantically pacing around her after jumping up, trying to find a way to help.]
Danielle: “John, watch her, I’ll be right back!!”
[Danielle’s sprinting steps reverberate throughout the large gym before being drowned out again as Jenny begins to sob uncontrollably.]
John: “Jenny, hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, hey—”
Jenny: “Not anyone else! God, I can’t lose anyone else!”
[John yelps as Jenny grabs the front of his shirt, the fabric threatening to rip as she pulls him forward.]
Jenny: “Tell me it’s a joke!”
John: “What’s a joke?! What happened?!”
Jenny: “John, tell me he’s okay!”
John: “Who?! Who’s okay?!”
Jenny: “For fuck’s sake, John, if anything, tell me this is all a nightmare and I’m going to wake up! Maybe on the dock! Or really, wake me up in my office maybe! Anything! Just don’t let this be real!”
John: “I don’t know what’s happening, what do you mean?! Uh, uh, okay, Jenny, take a breath—”
Jenny: “I could have been there! I could have fucking been there! I was selfish again! God!!”
[Jenny screams again, John’s response cut out of the audio. Then, after a few seconds, there is a moment of pure pained silence. The device picks up a distant echo of a scream from outside. Jenny hyperventilates, unable to calm herself. Then, she stops. She goes eerily silent.]
Jenny: “… John.”
John: “Uh… Y-yeah…?”
Jenny: “… John… John… John, I… You…”
[Jenny struggles to breathe. She doesn’t continue what she seemed to want to say.]
John: “… Jenny, what happened…? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…”
Jenny: “… Maybe I have.”
[John can’t respond before the door to the gym slams open again. Danielle, out of breath, runs over to the two.]
Danielle: “I just ran and got a hot chocolate, granola bar, blanket, pillow… God… Holy shit…”
John: “… Nice endurance, I guess? Uh…”
[John trails off as his joke falls flat, supposedly looking at Jenny again.]
John: “… Jenny, what can I do to help you…?”
Jenny: “… There’s nothing. Nothing can be done anymore… Nobody’s there…”
Danielle: “Jenny, what went down…? That was terrifying…”
[Jenny doesn’t respond. There’s silence for about a minute.]
Danielle: “… Jenny…”
John: “… I think she fell asleep… She must have been low on energy and this just… broke her down.”
Danielle: “… Wow… Holy shit, I’ve never heard her raise her voice like that…”
[John hesitantly picks up the now darkened phone, placing it next to Jenny’s sleeping figure.]
John: “… I think that’s enough for tonight. I’ll… I’ll keep an eye on her, you go home.”
Danielle: “… If you’re sure… Good luck, John… If you need me, call me.”
John: “Sure thing.”
[The door to outside opens, then closes.]
[End transcript.]
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#FEF5F1 | DILUC RAGNVINDR.
genre | fluff
word count | 1825
warning | none
note | i finally wrote something for my top husbando :’)
it came to you as a surprise that diluc, at all, sleeps.
there has always been this fantasy version of him in your head, a fantasy that lacked the great ideals and bright adventures most fantasy novels you have read consisted of. in contrast, your fantasy of him was insulting and otherworldly at best—someone restricted to the rules, a personality as plain as a dull purple doormat, a total stick in the mud that kills joy at the mere sight of it, an emotionless robot that has no use for human necessity such as the bathing and sleeping.
does diluc even need to consume food? you have literally never seen him eat or drink anything before. has he ever taken off his gloves to pick up a hamburger—oh, archons, you just realized now that you have never seen the skin of his hands before. he always has gloves on! was it to hide something?
"oh, wow," you exclaimed lowly to yourself as you leaned forward to examine the hands of the very annoyed red-haired man before you. your long-term question was finally answered. "fascinating... so you do have hands!"
diluc spared not even a glance toward the limb you were so interestedly staring at. he kept quiet for a moment and peered down at you from his bed, one leg propped up and the other stretched out—a rather awkward position he had no time to get out of after he almost burned you alive for sneaking into his bedroom in the winery.
"what drunk wind blew your incompetent self here?" he asked, ignoring your remarks about his lack of real and human hands. whatever you meant by that? you were always spilling weird things out of your mouth, you might even be worse than venti, he reckoned.
you glared up at him after hearing his mindless insult. you were only fifty percent sure (which was already a lot in your book!) diluc never actually meant those hurtful words, that they simply fly out of his mouth due to his weird need to make sure everyone around him knew that he leaves no room for unnecessary sentiment.
being kind blatantly was not his thing, and he has no intention of being applauded for being a decent person. why that was, you couldn't be sure. you had your assumptions, but kaeya turned out far too different than diluc that you weren’t sure if you should put your finger on the assumption. you also didn't dare dive deeper into it because (a) you just weren’t invested enough, and (b) by then, it would be a family business you would hate to indulge yourself with.
"kaeya dared me to take a picture of your sleeping face in exchange for some wine. our good friend, the honorary knight's smaller friend also wanted it as a possible blackmail souvenir," you told him honestly.
diluc immediately murmured something you couldn't quite hear, but he looked more confused than annoyed when he glared down at the mattress of his bed. he grumbled something along the lines of how the roles were definitely reversed. you didn't press further about that.
"if that is what you came here for, your best bet is to leave the way you came," he said after a moment, pointing a cold hand toward his bedroom window. "you're not taking any pictures of me."
you snorted, holding up your kamera and tapping the lenses. “uh, i think i came pretty close to taking a picture of you sleeping, diluc.”
“i had woken up the second you walked through my bedroom door. you could never,” he said.
you hummed under your breath, eyeing him suspiciously. he was probably telling the truth. he barely struggled in surprise when he grabbed your hands in the dark; was it pure luck that he perfectly found where your kamera was on the first try or does diluc secretly has night vision? your guess was as good as the unknown.
not to mention, he looked normal, just like someone who may be in the know of your intrusion. he appeared grumpy but that was just his normal state. you could barely get him out of a frown even if you pay him, mainly because he wouldn’t need your money, but also because he was stubbornly against smiling, it appeared.
"you know, i was surprised at first. i didn't know you sleep at all! i always thought you kind of just shut down, or maybe you have stayed awake all your life," you said with a shrug, and when he deadpanned at you, you defensively waved your kamera around. "i'm sorry! i just–you don't strike me as a person who sleeps!"
"so dead, then?" diluc asked calmly, although there was very little calmness in his facial expressions, especially those judgemental eyes of his.
"not dead! just... not really human–" you paused and pressed your lips together, thinking back to what you said to him and realizing that he might have a point. then you turned to him. "you also eat, right?"
“are you leaving or not?” he asked, a hint of flare in his voice that if you looked closely, you may see fire emerging from his body.
being stubborn as ever, and knowing that diluc would never really hurt anybody he knew to be good people, you feigned thoughtfulness for a second. tapping your finger against your chin, you scrunched your nose and shook your head. setting the kamera lumine forcefully had to borrow you between your crossed legs, you flashed him a mischievous grin.
“no,” you said. “i am getting that picture out of you!”
“like i said,” he said, “you will never.”
“fine! then i guess i will just have to sit here and wait for you to fall asleep on me,” you said, slapping your hand down on his soft mattress. “don’t try to force me out of here! i will make it way worse for you!”
diluc furrowed his brows, wondering if you meant what you said. when his questioning gaze couldn’t get even an ounce of budge from you, he could only sigh in frustration. if you planned to sit on his bed until he doze off, then you would definitely make it worse if he tries to dump you out of his bedroom through whatever means you could.
he may be a skilled swordsman and a vision bearer, but unfortunately, he was not immune to bullshits from the likes of you.
diluc closed his eyes to savor the tiniest bit of sleep he managed to get before he heard your extra loud footsteps creeping around his room. he was supposed to get a good night's sleep, which was something he hasn't had in a while because of all the business schedules and his side vigilante job.
he was supposed to rest tonight, and there came you.
there always comes you.
dilly-dally, unpredictable, the epitomie of 'knights of favonius... always so inefficient,' letting klee out of solitary confinement and causing a ruckus amongst the responsible adults kind of irresponsible, has paid for his wine at least a zero number of time kind of broke, and was just always here to ruin his mood at the tavern every single day.
most of the time, diluc thought about you in a negative light, much like he did with everyone around him and the entirety of the knights of favonius. but there was a version of you in his head that painted you as somebody different—somebody respectful, somebody worth keeping around...
somebody he likes, perhaps.
after all, joy was never prevalent in his life. it used to be, but that was a past he has long forgotten the details of. even if he wanted to remember them now, he could only remember snippets that wouldn’t guarantee him a good nostalgia. he may just end up feeling worse at the end. the only constant influx of distraction he has now seemed to be either you or venti, and with the godly bard as his other option, he would much rather choose you.
but it was not because that venti was too hard to confine in. you were just as hard to talk about problems with considering your optimism and fickle attitude.
what diluc wanted was permanence; a train that never stops, a bottle of wine that continuously refills, dandelions that do not stop flying even after it reaches celestia. and venti was too understanding and abstract to be one. as interesting of a character he may be, venti knew when to leave people alone. or, occasionally, he just cared too little. after all the city of mondstadt didn’t lack a god because he was responsible.
you, though. diluc could never pinpoint if you were as dense as you appeared to be, or if you did know how to read the room and simply chose to ignore it, but you never leave people alone. you never left him alone; you unknowingly pick a petty one-sided argument with him all the time, you get drunk at the tavern and somehow has never let anybody take you home but him, you barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night because of some stupid dare his brother made you do and you still refuse to leave despite being sleepy.
you give him a way out, whether he likes it or not.
arms crossed in front of his chest, he deadpanned as he watched your head drop lower and lower to the mattress. soon enough, you were snoring away on his bed with the gadget discarded by your feet. he watched you in silence, your cheek smushed against the surface and the intensity you always radiated lessening from your body. you looked normal now; not energetic, not talkative. just sleeping peacefully, the way he always made sure you were after carrying you home.
diluc’s heart was finally softening under the knowledge that nobody was watching him anymore. the pessimistic monster that often emerges from him was still here, but in the face of you, it has painted itself pink and it has forgotten vengeance and retribution. in the face of you, it has been dragged out from the death it once laid and became forgiven.
carefully laying your head down on the pillow, diluc draped the blanket over your shoulder to tuck you into his bed. after making sure you were fine and well, he placed the kamera on the desk in the room, somewhere visible you could find once you wake up, and he left for one of the guest rooms in the mansion.
tonight was the first time in a while when he has forgotten about all the problems he’s had. something that wasn’t about wine, the family business, or the abyss order. it wasn’t the rest he wanted, perhaps it was hardly any rest at all, but he was glad he got to think about something else.
of course, diluc would never tell you that.
#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact#genshin impact diluc#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x you#genshin#diluc#diluc ragnvindr#genshin diluc#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x you#diluc imagines#diluc scenarios#genshin scenarios
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Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems
Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader
4579 words
Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic, @nsfwtwicecatcher, @nsfwflint, and @ggidolsmuts in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work.
One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.
As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!
***
“Coming up on the target now.”
“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.
“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.
You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.
“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.
“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.
You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.
“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.
“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”
“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you.
As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.
A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…
You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out.
Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.
“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”
“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”
“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa.
“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”
You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.
You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.
It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.
You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up.
Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.
You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.
As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.
“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments.
“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”
“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”
Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.
“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.
“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.
“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”
Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl.
Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.
“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.
You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it.
Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.
You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.
Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.
“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.
“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”
“Shut up and suck my cock.”
Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.
For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.
“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?
“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”
“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.
“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”
“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was.
You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.
Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.
“I don’t have all night.”
More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is.
“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.
You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.
With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.
As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.
You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.
“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.
Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.
You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.
Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.
Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.
“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.
Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.
You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.
“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”
“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”
Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.
“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”
Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.
Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.
Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.
“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”
“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.
“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.
“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.
After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.
“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”
You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night.
After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.
“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.
“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”
“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”
There was no command in the world easier to follow.
Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.
“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”
“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”
A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.
And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.
“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”
Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.
“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.
“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.
“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.
“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”
“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”
“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”
***
A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.
You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear.
“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”
“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”
“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”
“You did WHAT?!”
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Obispo Losa
Part two of Obispo and Lily. I have so many ideas for this and I'm so excited to try them out! Thank you all for the love and encouragement!
Warnings: Swearing, Angst
As always, I do not own anything Mayans related. I do own my character and her story.
My first language is English. I do know some Spanish but I am not fluent. I will be keeping the Spanish in this story to a minimum to avoid butchering a beautiful language.
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
"You said that last time, Leti."
"I know and I'm really sorry about what happened, but I swear nothing like that would ever go down here. The guys wouldn't allow it."
"I don't know, Leti..."
"Come on! Bishop has been asking about you. He wants to see you."
"He said that?"
"...In so many words."
"Leti!"
"He has been asking about you! 'how's your friend, Leticia? How's her arm? Have you seen her today?" Leti dropped her voice to mimic the low bravado that was Bishop's voice.
"He did not ask you all that!"
"He did!"
"Really?"
"Yes, Lily!"
"Okay, what time is this party?"
"Uhh the guys have a meeting and then we usually party afterwards. Maybe like eight o'clockish? I'll text you the address."
"Sounds good."
"Oh and Lily, wear something slu-"
Click.
Lily tapped the red button quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence. She would wear whatever she wanted and it would not be to impress any man. Or so she thought, until the clock ticked 7:30 and she was buzzing around her bedroom, ripping open drawers and rifling through her closet like a mad woman. Swearing under her breath, Lily's frustration mounted as nothing seemed to fit right.
Lily was a bit curvier than most women, especially her friend Leti. Borrowing an outfit from her would be out of the question and some how everything in Lily's closet just seemed wrong. Blowing out an annoyed puff of air, Lily looked back over her clothes, trying not to be so critical. Bishop probably wouldn't even notice, not with all his friends around. Or so she hoped...
Gravel crunched under her tires as Lily turned off the road and into the driveway of what looked like some kind of auto mechanic business. A sign for oil changes and tire rotations hung out front, welcoming visitors into what looked like a run down garage. Random cars sat around, looking like they were falling apart or maybe just scrap pieces for other projects. A house sat connected to the garage, a porch welcomed any visitors and a large fire pit sat in front of its steps with a few picnic tables dotted around.
Parking her car off to the side, Lily wondered if she had the wrong address. Eyeing the row of motorcycles, she changed her mind. This had to be right.
Lily stepped out of her car just as the front door opened. A man she recognized immediately stepped out. Black hair buzzed close to his head, thin mustache, thick muscled arms. Oh yeah, she remembered him. He had steadied her when the guy had shoved her and then later, Leti had hugged him like they were best friends.
Lily offered him a smile, noting the way his leather vest differed slightly from the others she had seen. "Hi, I'm Lily, Leti invited me?"
"Yeah, hi, EZ."
"Wait, what?"
"Ezekiel Reyes, EZ for short." He grinned, "nice to meet you Lily." His eyes seemed to twinkle in the fading light. Somewhere in her mind she knew instantly that he was someone she could trust and with that realization a portion of her nervousness evaporated. EZ met her at the bottom of the porch steps, shaking her hand gently.
"Nice to meet you too." She couldn't help but return his smile, it was infectious.
"Leticia's inside, you can head on in, I'm going to start a fire." EZ jerked his head toward the door.
"Thank you!" Lily stepped inside, looking around at the unusual decor. A large statue of Saint Mary stood by the door, various framed pictures hung on the walls and the furniture looked like hand-me-downs from an array of different homes with different styles. The place was definitely decorated by men. Lily laughed to herself, smile growing as she spotted her friend across the room. Though the place was dimly lit, Lily could plainly see Leticia working hard behind the bar. Her hands moved quickly, preparing drinks, or food, or both. Glancing up as Lily shut the door, Leticia let out a squeal.
"You made it!"
"I did!"
"Yay! Get over here and help me prep this stuff! The guys will be out any minute."
"Out?" Lily dropped her purse on the bar stool at the end before walking around the bar. As expected, there was a mini kitchen set-up back there. Fridge, stove, microwave, sink, what little counter Lily could see was covered in random food items. Everything from salsa and chips to hot dogs and hamburgers sat before them.
"Yeah, they had a meeting tonight, but it should be over soon." She nodded in the direction of a rusted sliding door. "They'll grill the meat for us, but I like to have the sides and stuff ready to go a while."
"Okay," Lily wasn't sure what kind of meeting she meant, but it didn't matter anyway. She was too busy trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach to ask anything else. Leti handed her a knife and a bowl of peppers, instructing her to chop them up.
Lily had just finished the bowl and was washing her hands when a metallic screech filled the. Lifting her eyes as the door rolled open, Lily watched as the first few guys stepped through. One broke away from the rest, smiling at her as he plopped himself on the nearest bar stool.
"What's up, how are you?"
"Good, thank you, better than when we first met."
"Glad to hear it!" He swiped a stand of black hair away from his face, smiling at her warmly.
"Lily, this is my dad, Coco."
Lily felt her brows raise, surprised by the information. He looked so young, more like a brother than a father. She didn't comment on it though, instead, she smiled, offering her hand, "nice to meet you, Coco. Thanks for helping out the other night."
"Nahh, that was all Bish. We were just back up if things popped off."
"Sounds like they did later!" Leti jumped in.
"Yeah! Heard Bish broke that pendejo's nose!"
"Serves him right!" Lily stayed quiet, smiling as Leti and Coco continued talking. They really did act a lot alike and the resemblance in their faces was uncanny.
Eyes flicking to the doorway again, Lily was surprised by the amount of disappointment that washed through her.
"Bish is still at the table. Thinking things through I guess." Coco supplied, meeting her eyes with a knowing smile. Lily blushed, nodding as she looked down at her hands.
"Why don't you take him a beer? Tell him the meats on the grill?" Leti suggested, elbowing her gently.
"Yeah, that ones his favorite." Coco leaned across the bar, pointing to one of the many bottles they had just uncapped for the guys.
"Do you think that would be okay?" Lily asked awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.
"As long as he's not talking business with anyone, he shouldn't care." Coco shrugged, taking a bottle for himself.
Lily nodded again, grabbing the bottle he had pointed to and striding confidently across the room. Her bravery didn't last long though. By the time she was standing in the door way her anxiety was back in full swing. The coast was clear, no one else was with him.
He sat alone, smoking a cigarette, papers laying in front of him. The room was dark, one single light hung overhead, casting a soft glow over Bishop's chair. He looked like a king sitting in the spotlight. His bulky frame illuminated against the dark of the room.
It's now or never.
Lily cleared her throat, stepping into the room hesitantly, praying he wouldn't throw her back out. He looked deep in thought and extremely tired, probably not in the mood to chit chat. This was a bad idea. Lily berated herself. What made her think this was a good plan?
Bishop's head lifted, cigarette nearly falling out of his mouth as he realized who was joining him. Her breath caught in her throat as he looked at her. Dark eyes fell all the way to her feet, taking in a pair of blood-red heels before dragging slowly up her body to land on her face. The black dress she'd chosen clung to her body in way that she hoped was flattering and not accenting her every bump and roll. She shifted on her feet, suddenly questioning her decision to wear this outfit. That was... Until she watched his tongue poke out of his mouth, wetting his lips almost nervously. Dropping his cigarette into a nearby ash tray, Bishop stood up, almost toppling his chair with his hastiness.
"Lily?"
"Hi, Obispo." She smiled, heat rising to her cheeks as he stared openly at her. "I umm... Brought you a drink." She lifted the bottle, stepping closer to hold it out to him. She swallowed hard as he walked around the table, wrapping his hand around the neck of the bottle, grazing her fingers as he took it.
"Thank you." His mustache lifted as he smiled at her, eyes twinkling with something she couldn't place. "Am I drinking alone?" He spoke teasingly, lifting the beer to his lips and taking a slow sip.
Lily watched his throat work as he swallowed it, clocked the way his plush lips pressed against the glass. Clearing her throat again, Lilly took a step back. "I-I don't really drink, but I uh... I wanted to let you know the meats on the grill a- and the food will be ready soon."
"Thank you," he said again with that same smile on his lips. He was amused by her awkwardness, finding her stammering cute. He liked this kind of nervousness, jitters brought on by attraction and not fear. Seeing her retreat another step, Bishop pushed off the table where he was previously leaning. "You don't have to go."
"I should help Leti with the rest of the stuff." Lily jerked a thumb over her shoulder, stumbling as she bumped into a chair.
"Watch that, querida." Bishop gave her a lopsided smile, taking one long step forward, the urge to be closer to her guiding his feet.
"Yeah..." Lily took another step back, tripping over another chair in the process. This time she couldn't catch herself, she was too shaken, too flustered. Bishop lunged forward, wrapping an arm around her waist before she could fall.
He pulled her upright, tugging her against his chest, steadying her with one hand all while holding his beer with the other. The little gasp that left her lips had his heart stuttering in his chest. "Easy does it, querida." His breath fanned her face, his voice low and soft.
He smelled of cigarettes and leather and a hint of spearmint. His hand laid heavy on her back, fingers splayed wide, each one burning a hole through the material of the dress. He was warm and tall and all hard planes where she was short and soft, fitting perfectly against his broad chest. Lily's small hands pressed to his stomach, torn between pushing him away and letting him hold her.
"Bish..." It was soft and breathy and effecting him in way that was completely inappropriate for only talking to her twice.
"I'm here, Preciosa." He spoke with the same volume as her, hushed, low, a tone that shot right to her belly. Her insides seems to melt and mush. A shiver crawled down her spine, goosebumps raising on her arms. He gazed down at her, dark eyes boring into hers as his thumb traced a slow circle on her lower back.
"Lily! Get your ass out here and help me!" Leti yelled from the other room sounding agitated. Lily startled in his arms, and just like that the spell was broken. Her hands were pushing off his stomach and she was stepping away before he could stop her.
Bishop dropped his arm reluctantly, feeling as if all the heat was zapped from his body as he did. It took everything in him not to reach out and pull her back, instead he gripped his beer tighter, sinking back into a chair as she disappeared through the doorway. Releasing a sigh, Bishop raked a hand through his hair. Shit.
#romance#writing#writer#ez reyes#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa x you#bishop losa#obispo losa#mayans imagine#mayans fanfic#mayans mc#mayans x oc#fiction#fanfic#lovestory#Obispo Losa x Lily
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Sweet Scent | 2
Genre: Agent au. Colleague au. Mutual pining. Angst. Fluff. a little thriller.
Pairing: Agent!Jungkook x Forensic Doctor!reader
Word Count: 5,6k
Rating: 18+ (M)
Warning: Shy boy Jungkook. A lot of flirting and teasing. Mention of death (murder case). Threats using human organ (Not explicit)
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | completed
Summary: Why does he always look so nervous in front of you? Is it because of your excessive flirting? But how come you don’t tease him when he looks so incredibly cute every time he blushes?
Series Masterlist: The Company
A/N: wew, It took me longer to write this. Thankyou @arizonapoppy for cheering me up and beta reading this story. and again: this writer doesn’t know how agents work.
Send me an ask if you want to be added in the taglist!
The smell of coffee sneaks into your nose, waking you up. You open your eyes slowly, stealing a glance at your watch on your wrist. 8.13 am.
Immediately you sit up on the mattress, stretching your body. You blink as you realize Jungkook is standing in front of the coffee machine with his back to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask groggily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. It’s so weird how your throat feels so dry when you only sleep for an hour.
Jungkook turns away from the machine and walks over to you, handing you a cup of hot coffee. “I did, fifteen minutes ago. But you didn’t even move a bit. You were literally sleeping like a log there.”
You hum as you drink the coffee. It’s weird how the coffee is perfectly to your taste, but that’s not important right now. “So what do you need again? I told you that I’ll call you as soon as I get the lab results, right? I swear, if you want that right now, I am gonna-”
“No. That’s not what I want right now.” He walks to your desk and sits on the chair, facing you. The nervousness can be seen in his doe eyes. “I think we also need to check the victim’s belongings again.”
You sigh and take a big gulp of coffee. “Fine, but let me finish checking the specimens first. I am afraid they will be damaged if I don’t work fast.”
The corners of Jungkook’s mouth perk up. “Thank you. That’s fine.”
You rise from the mattress and walk over to him, putting one of your hands on your hips. “You are asking this much and I only got a hamburger?” you pout.
Jungkook’s eyes wander anxiously, avoiding your eyes. He lets out an awkward laugh as he sips his coffee. “What do you want then? Pizza?”
“What about dinner? Preferably date-style?”
Your suggestion makes him choke in his coffee. A faint blush painted on his cheeks. “Wh-what?” his coffee drips from his chin to his shirt, leaving a trace of black liquid on the blue shirt. You are almost sure that it will leave a stain.
The panic he showed seems like a rejection to you and it somehow leaves a sting in your chest. You reach his shoulder and pat it lightly. “Just kidding; I am okay with that hamburger. And well, this is my job also.” You laugh awkwardly as you grab your lab coat. “So let’s get to work then.” You walk to the lab beside your office as you tie your hair into a bun.
Jungkook watches your receding back as he takes a deep breath. Your scent is still lingering in the room, the scent of lavender mixed with something musky. Relaxing and intoxicating. He always wonders what makes you smell like that, how unique it is that he can notice it with just a small whiff. How your scent is so you.
The scent that makes his hands turn clammy. The scent that makes his heart beat faster. The scent that always takes his breath away.
Thankfully for him, you didn’t ask him any further. Never occurred in his mind to go on a date with you. Just the thought of him being with you in the same room has already bothered him so much, he can barely think. If only he would admit that deep down he wants to go on a date with you. And just like that, gratitude turns into regret.
You let out another sigh as you massage your sore neck. The smell of substances fills the lab, all mixed together, making you nauseous. And the lack of sleep doesn’t help either. “Do you remember anything from the crime scene? Anything could help.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “You can’t find anything?” he asks. Jungkook lets you work by yourself as he watches you from afar. Not because he wants to stay as far as possible from you and the conflicted feelings you give him, or because he’s already felt comfortable sitting at your desk, but he doesn’t understand any of it and he doesn’t want to disturb you. True to be told, he loves seeing you working.
You shake your head weakly. Maybe it is because of your lack of sleep, your brain is not functioning well. You silently regret your decision for doing this alone. This is literally going nowhere.
“Good morning, guys!” A man dressed in what seem to be plaid pajamas enters your lab suddenly. “Geez, Y/N! Could your face be anymore tired?” His smile plastered on his face, in contrast with your own face.
You roll your eyes. “Fuck off, Tae.” It’s one of Taehyung’s traits that you dislike, how his bubbly exterior just somehow gets on your nerves, especially in times like this. Not that you hate him. Hell no. He’s an amazing friend. He might be the first agent that you’ve become friends with, but only God knows why whenever you’re with him, you just feel tired after. You really think that he’s absorbing all of your energy into him.
He lays a brown bag on the table and gives you a light hug. “Cranky. Did Jungkook make you stay up late?” he says, winking to both of you.
Jungkook stutters as the blush creeps on his cheeks. “Wh-what. Well I sort of did…” You shoot Jungkook a glare to stop him from saying anything that would make Taehyung make fun of both of you, which makes him cough awkwardly. “But that’s not.. anyway, why are you here, Hyung?”
Taehyung chuckles. “I’m just dropping off some pieces of bread from my girlfriend. She wants to say thanks.”
“Woah, thank you so much, Hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes twinkle as he walks faster to the bag. “I don’t think she’ll return to the bakery this fast.”
“Hey, my girlfriend is a strong woman! Although I also hope that she takes a day off. Anyway, just share them with Y/N, okay?” Taehyung waves and walks to the door. “I’m going to drop this other bag of bread off for the others, and maybe help them too. I don’t think Jungkook would want me here.” Taehyung says as he smiles meaningfully to him and walks away.
“Hyung!” Jungkook whines, his face is reddened.
You giggle at Jungkook’s antics. “Why don’t you want him here, Kook?”
His eyes turn shaky with you looking directly into his face. “No reason.” He avoids your gaze again. He rummages through the brown bag and pulls out a piece of bread. “Just eat some if you want to.“
He bites his bread and slowly chews it. Today, he is eating a piece of cream-cheese and almond bread. It is his most favorite bread from the bakery, Palate Cleanser.
It is a bakery that Taehyung has been talking about for several weeks. Not only does it belong to his new girlfriend, it serves delicious bread. Sure, Jungkook has never been a picky-eater, but he loves it. So after Taehyung gave him a tester, he became a new loyal customer of that bakery. Well, the bakery is just a few blocks from the Company too, so it is rather convenient.
You are still working with that huge-ass machine that whirrs like a washer. He perches on one of the desks, while he watches you from behind. And suddenly he smells something.
A smell that is familiar to him.
A smell that he noticed when he was in the crime scene.
"Do you smell this?”
You turn your head to him, confused. “Huh, what?”
He hops off the desk and walks around. “This smell. I smelled it in the crime scene. What is it?”
His statement perks your interest and you take a big breath. “I don’t smell anything.”
Jungkook takes a bigger sniff. “It’s there. Why can’t you smell it?”
“Well, sure that bread of yours is smellier than you think. I can only smell your bread.” You shrug as you turn again to face the machine.
“What?” Jungkook looks at the bread in his hand and takes a sniff at it. His eyes widen as he is realizing something. “This is it. This is what I smelled. Well, kinda.” He yells as he pushes his bread to you.
You raise one of your eyebrows as you hesitantly sniff his half-eaten bread. “This sour thingy?”
“What? No! It is the cream-cheese. What I meant is this bittery smell,” he picks some pieces from the bread and hands it to you after he smells it.
Your eyes widen as you see what is in Jungkook’s hand.
Almonds.
“Cyanide…” you whisper.
Jungkook tilts his head. “What?”
You walk quickly to the computer. “It must have been it. It just makes sense now.”
“Cyanide? Why can’t you smell it too?” Jungkook asks as he follows you from behind.
“There’s only a handful of people that can smell it. It is not specific, actually. Oh my God, I totally forgot about it.” You tap on the keyboards and hit the enter key. “Yes. It is cyanide poisoning.”
Jungkook looks at the screen, “so he was poisoned?”
You nod. “Yes. I need to check his toxicology report first. Will you tell Jin about it?”
“Got it. I’ll tell him and get a warrant to search the hall.” Jungkook walks quickly and grabs his phone from his pocket. He taps his phone to call and puts it on his ear. Jungkook stops in front of the door and turns back to face you. “Thank you, Y/N.”
You clear your throat. “Just go already!”
After Jungkook leaves, you still have the weird feeling that has accumulated in your chest from proximity to him. Just a mere sentence from his mouth is enough to leave your chest in turmoil. It took you just ten minutes to finally function normally again.
Well, you are lucky enough to find out the poison as soon as you did. If you had let the body lie in that room without any investigation, the evidence could have been lost. You wouldn’t have found the truth.
Still, after you know how he was killed, your work doesn’t get any easier. There’s no other trace of cyanide in the victim’s belongings.
It’s another roadblock.
That’s why you have been dialing Jungkook for the thirteenth time. And in the midst of your fourteenth call, you decide to end your call sooner. It’s no use calling him right now.
You close your laptop and gather all of your lab papers. After making sure that you have everything, you walk out to the door to find Jungkook. The sooner you finish this work, the sooner you’ll go home.
You hop into the elevator with much difficulty, given your full arms. Why didn’t you use a bag for all of your stuff? Your elbow hovers next to the “7” button, and after a moment you resolutely bump it. Your mind wanders. Was this the right idea?
Well, why wouldn’t you?
This floor is for elite agents only. You have never stepped foot on this floor until now. It is not that you were curious, but you know that this mission, or rather this case, is an important one. If Jungkook wanted the report as soon as possible, then he should want it as soon as possible, right?
It’s your job.
It’s not because you want to see Jungkook.
It is not.
At the sound of the “ding,” you step out of the elevator. Which way to his desk? The floor is huge and there’s no map or anyone who can help you. It’s Sunday, after all. You close your eyes to sharpen your hearing, but you still can’t hear anything.
You sigh in defeat as you shuffle your armload of paper to reach into your coat pocket to find your phone. Your fingers have just grazed it when you are jostled by someone bumping into you from behind. You barely avoid spilling your report file and you turn around to face the one who has collided with you.
“Oops. Sssowry.” A skinny man with fair skin apologizes as he bows to you, slurring his speech. The fumes of his breath threaten to pickle you like one of your cadavers. His eyes are kinda reddish, too. Still, his walking posture is as you saw him in the past, ignoring the fact how he has turned this giddy.
“Min Yoongi?”
He raises his eyes to meet yours as he straightens back up. He squints, trying to remember your face. “Oh!” He beams. “You are the hot forensic doctor. What’re you doin’ here?”
Your cheeks feel hot as you hear the awkward nickname. Sure, you know that your appearance is above average, but that doesn’t mean that you deserve that name. You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m Y/N. I need to see Jungkook, he didn’t answer my call…”
Yoongi nods in understanding and points to a blue door with his thumb. “He must be at the meeting then. I’ll let him know, or you know what, just come along, I’m already late too.”
You raise one of your eyebrows, but still walk behind him closely. “Is it okay? I don’t want to disturb the meeting.”
“Nah. It is actually about your case too, so what’s the harm?” He knocks the door rhythmically and after hearing a permission he goes in. Yoongi’s eyes travel to the young man sitting in the corner. “Jungkook-ah. You got a visitor.”
Jungkook raises his eyebrow and sneaks a glance to the door. When he sees you, his eyes turn wide in panic. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He stands up quickly and walks toward you.
You smile awkwardly. “I called you several times but I got no response so here I am.” In the silence, you finally look around. There are five other men sitting around the conference table looking back at you and Jungkook, intrigued. The tension in the room gets less serious than before as you look around the meeting. “Sorry, guys, for interrupting.”
A smaller man with plump lips sends you a mischievous smile as he nodges Taehyung’s elbow. His eyes turn into crescent. “Nonsense! Great to see you again, Y/N.”
“Hey, Jimin. Long time no see. Sorry, it won’t take long. I just need to hand off this report.” You set your case file on the meeting table and start searching for the report you mentioned before.
“You can join us, if you want. It will be helpful, too.” Jin, a wide-shouldered-man, the leader of this mission, speaks without looking up from the laptop in front of him.
“Yeah! Join us. It sucks to only see these brats all the time.” Jimin says as he indicates an empty chair.
You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sure, if you say so, but I think I’ll go grab my other stuff too from my office. I also think I left a machine running.” You take a few steps back as you laugh dryly. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, I’m coming with you too.” Jimin rises from his seat and follows you.
The meeting room turns silent as Jimin closes the door behind him, there is only the sound from the projector on the table.
Jungkook freezes, not knowing what to do. His eyes just stare at the spot where you stood before. This action somehow attracts the attention of the older agents as they all share knowing glances between them.
“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.
Jungkook’s doe eyes widen and turn shaky with the sudden suggestion. His cheeks turn bright red. “Wha-what? No. I don’t like her. I mean, I don’t like her like that…”
“So it’s okay if Jimin likes her then?” Yoongi speaks up abruptly, making all of the other agents turn his head to him. The agents hide their smiles and then turn again to Jungkook who is looking more nervous than before, anticipating his answer.
Jungkook casts his head down, looking at the floor. He bites his lower lip harshly, trying to hold his lips from muttering a word that he’ll regret.
“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again, softly. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question. The way Jungkook acts is a new thing for him. He’s never seen Jungkook like this and it needs no licensed therapist to see how whipped Jungkook is for the doctor. If only Jungkook himself knows it.
Just the time Jungkook is about to open his mouth, Jin slams his hand to the table. “Sure, maknae’s love story is very exciting, but we have a job, okay? Let’s resume our meeting.”
Taehyung snorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Party-pooper.”
Jin turns his head to Taehyung. “Yah. You have been a pain in my ass since you joined this mission. What do you want to do then?” he throws his hand in the air in frustration. Their conflict from the night before is still hot in his mind.
Yoongi pats Jin’s shoulder softly. “Just think of this as a break, Hyung. You’ve been working non-stop. I also suggest that we should just call it a day and get some sleep. We won’t get anything more if we force ourselves like this.”
“But, still…”
A sudden ring fills the room. Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket and puts it on his ear. “Hey, Jimin. What’s up?” His eyes widen and his expression hardens as he listens to the rest of the call. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.” He says as he ends the call and puts the phone into his pocket. The other agents look at him quizzically.
“What happened?” Jin asks warily.
Hoseok sighs and says quietly, “Someone broke into Y/N’s office.”
You stand quietly in the elevator with Jimin still smiling weirdly beside you. “Why are you following me?”
“No reason. I’m just bored.” He hums. He’s not as bulky as Jungkook, and, compared to Jungkook, Jimin is like a thin child, even though Jimin is two years older than Jungkook. Well, you do recall that Jimin has just started his field mission just for a several weeks, and he worked as a handler before.
You snort. “Sure.”
Jimin turns his head to you with his hands clenching his chest. “What? You don’t believe me? I feel hurt!” he widens his eyes comically.
“Sure.” you say, rolling your eyes.
Jimin pouts and sighs in defeat. “Fine. I just need to put something inside Sehun’s drawer.” He pulls a black-leathery curled thing from his pocket and shows you. “I want to get my revenge.”
You laugh and to think that he brings it everyday to find a perfect opportunity is amusing to you. “And you think I won’t tell him that you put a fake snake in his drawer?”
“Y/N, don’t tell him, pleasee~” he whines cutely as both of you step out of the elevator. Sure, you know that he’s cute, whining like that, but Jungkook’s cuter for you.
Why the hell do I keep thinking of him?
“Just give me a reason not to tell him then.” you walk past him as he stands with a pout on his face.
He puts his hands under his chin, thinking deeply and suddenly he smiles knowingly. “I can tell you anything you’d want to know about Jungkook.”
It’s your turn to freeze on the spot. You turn your head slowly to meet Jimin’s eyes, giving him the widest smile you can give. “And why would I want that?”
Jimin shrugs and walks again to the office, still his smile doesn’t leave his face. He looks confident, overly confident. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you’d want it.”
You stomp ahead of him as you approach your office’s door. “Fine, I won’t tell Sehun about the snake.” You turn back and point your index finger at him. “Only because I know how Sehun hates snakes and his reaction is hilarious.” Your narrow your eyes as you continue. “Not because of Jungkook.” you whisper.
Jimin hides his smile. “Sure.”
You tap your card on the door and open it. Your eyes widen as you step inside your office. The sight inside your office makes you shiver immediately. Papers are scattered everywhere. The chair is thrown into the corner of the room. The glass cabinet’s shattered to pieces. “What the-” Color drains from your face as you proceed further, carefully stepping around the glass shards on the floor.
Jimin turns pale as he stands in front of the door, not knowing what to do. “Y/N, I think we shouldn’t enter for the time being. I’ll call the others first.” He grabs his phone and rapidly taps it. “Just don’t go any farther!”
His voice however doesn’t register, as your feet draw you closer to your desk. A burglar? What would a burglar want to steal in this office? There’s no expensive things in the office, well, except your coffee machine. But they didn’t need to trash this place in the first place, right?
At the sight of your desk, your knees weaken. Your eyes widen in fear and shock as you struggle to hold your body upright. Finally your legs give away, and you collapse to the floor. Your hands scrabble to regain any strength and hold your upper body from falling.
You breathe faster. You want to scream as loud as you can, but there is nothing left from your lips. Your hands tremble. You try hard to stop it by pushing them harder on the floor, pushing the glass shards right into your palms. The pain doesn’t make it to your mind right now, when what lies in front of you has every power to take your mind away.
Tears trickle from your eyes. Your vision turns blurry covered by your tears. As you blink them away, you also hope that the sight is gone too. But no matter how many times you blink, you still see the same thing.
And it is nauseating.
Pounding hurried footsteps in the hall outside your office finally helps you regain some of your senses. You open your mouth slowly, trying your best to gather as much sound-air-or anything as you can as the breaths come too quickly to be of any use. “Help…” you whisper.
The other agents barge inside your office. Their faces have a mixture of expressions: mad-shock-confused-worry, and somehow you can see all of it on Jungkook’s face when he sees you slumped on the floor with bloodied hands. “Y/N?” Jungkook calls cautiously, trying to gain your attention.
“Kook…” you sob harder, which makes Jungkook immediately run to your side.
Jungkook holds your shoulders softly and studies your face, his eyebrows frown in worry. “Are you okay?”
Instead of answering him, you weakly lift up your arm to point to your desk. The agents all turn their heads to your desk, and terror overtakes their faces.
There’s a heart stabbed with a scalpel on your desk.
“What the..” Jin whispers.
Taehyung steps backward, hand to his face as he fights the urge to vomit. “Is that a fucking human heart?”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he just pulls the blanket from your makeshift bed to wrap your wounds. Gently supporting your elbow, he helps you stand. He doesn’t leave your side, holding you close to him to prevent you from falling. He turns your face to his chest, away from your desk, while Yoongi examines the heart.
Insistent tears keep falling from your eyes, even though you try your hardest to hold them back. What the hell is that? What does that mean? Why on my desk? Why?
“Hey…” Jungkook whispers into your ear. “Don’t think of anything. Just take a deep breath. Count in for four, out for four, slowly.”
You follow his instructions, looking up from his chest, searching deep into his eyes. Those brown eyes don’t run away from you this time, instead they look back into yours softly, calming your nerves. Those eyes travel to other parts of your face as well, making sure you’re okay.
Jungkook tightens his hands into fists, trying to stop himself from brushing your tears away from your face. How he hates to see you crying; He’s never realized it until now. He hates it. He always sees you with a smile on your face, and it always makes his heart beat faster. And now? With tears falling from your tired but still beautiful eyes, his heart aches.
“…. It’s just my opinion.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through your reverie as you calmed down. You turn to the speakers, giving them both of your attention again.
“So it’s from a dead body?” Hoseok asks warily.
Jin runs his hand through his hair, “Alright, someone please take a look at the mortuary. Jungkook?”
Jungkook looks at your wet face once more, hesitant to leave your side. Finally he nods and moves his body away from you.
“I’m coming with you…” you whisper as you grip his shoulder, forgetting that your hands are still covered in glass shards wrapped in the edge of a now-destroyed blanket.
Jungkook turns back to face you, glancing at your bloodied hands. It must have hurt. He holds your shoulder softly. “No. You should treat your wounds.”
“But…” I want to be with you.
“Jimin-hyung, please help Y/N?” Jungkook asks Jimin, ignoring your protest. Jimin stands by your side, slowly and gently gesturing you to follow him out of the door. You sigh in defeat as you follow Jimin, your eyes keep stealing glances to Jungkook.
Jungkook’s eyes are still lingering on your back when you walk away and his heart aches harder. I want to be with you too.
“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question.
“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.
Does he like you?
Maybe.
Actually, he has never thought of this.
Feelings. They have never been programmed as part of his routine. He is an agent, a soldier. Feelings make him weak. Feeling is messy, messier than blood splattered on the wall when he bombarded a body with bullets. He once told himself not to trust his feelings. That’s why it was so hard for him to talk or be with you. His feelings are growing stronger after time and it’s suffocating him.
And the harder he denies his feelings, the stronger they get.
What is this feeling? Why is it so painful to see her like that?
No matter how many times he repeats his question in his mind, the answer is the same. It is the only rational reason for such an irrational topic.
He swallows the four-lettered-word that almost slipped from his lips and shakes his head to clear his mind.
He’s gonna investigate this case quickly. Just so he can see you. Just so he can look after you. And with that thought, he runs from your office.
You sit on the bed in the infirmary, gazing on the white wall. This room is supposed to smell like an antiseptic, just like a hospital, but instead it is just dusty. Everything is cleaned every single day, but it is just like there’s no one working here for a long time.
Jimin rummages in the cabinet beside you trying to find what he needs. After he finds the disinfection solution, tweezers, and some gauzes, he puts them on the metal tray and sets it on the bed.
Jimin reaches for your hand, opening the ruined blanket softly. You wince as the movement shoots another pain through your hand. “Sorry.” He purses his lips.
You shake your head weakly, tears threatening to fall. Why am I only feeling the pain now? “It’s okay.”
He looks at your both hands, examining them carefully. “There’s a lot of shards. It’s gonna be painful.”
You gulp. “I know.”
“We still don’t have a new doctor assigned here, so would you mind if I do it instead? You can tell me if I do it wrong.”
“Okay,” you answer.
He pours the disinfection solution over your hand. The pain starts accumulating as you bite your lips to stop yourself from screaming. He takes a pair of tweezers with his right hand and using his other hand to hold your wounded hand gently. Slowly, he begins to pick the shards from your hand.
After fifteen minutes working on the wounds, Jimin smiles in satisfaction and rises from his seat to get a bandage.
A knock on the door fills the room and Jungkook walks inside slowly and stops just before you. His eyes darted to yours immediately, looking worried. “How’s her wound, Hyung?”
Jimin returns with some rolls of bandages. “There’s a lot of wounds, but luckily they weren’t too deep.” Jimin begins to cover the cuts slowly.
“Whose is it?” you whisper to Jungkook. You’re not gonna lie that it’s been bothering you. To think that someone stole an organ from supposedly protected cadaver sends shivers to your spine.
Jungkook clears his throat and looks at your face hesitantly. “It’s from Baekho’s body. That body is ruined now.”
Your eyes glisten with new tears as your hands begin to tremble. The sight of a human heart stabbed on your desk filling your mind. You see organs everyday, it’s part of your job, you are used to seeing it. But it’s a different feeling when that organ was stabbed unknowingly to your desk. “What’s happening? Wa-Was that a threat?”
Jungkook hesitates, you can see it in his brown eyes. He sits beside you and reaches for your now-bandaged-hand and holds it gently, afraid of hurting you any further. “I’m sorry.”
His honeyed-voice, that you love, sounds as if he is in pain, and it somehow pains you even more. “That’s okay. I’m the one who agreed to it in the first place. And besides, I chose to work in this field, it’s only a matter of time that I get something like this, isn’t it?” you laugh dryly, but deep inside, you’re afraid. Well, how can’t you?
Jungkook’s hand tightens. “Still, I shouldn’t put you in any danger.” He sighs. “Which is why I’m gonna take you home after this.”
Your eyes widen. “What?”
“If they don’t want you to investigate about Baekho, then you shouldn’t do it.” He looks straight at you. “It’s for your safety.”
You turn your palm to meet his, holding him back. “Kook, I must finish it.”
“No. This is a dangerous case and it was stupid of me to ask your help. I don’t want you involved any further.” He closes his mouth for a moment, trying to mutter appropriate words. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N.”
You shake your head profusely. “I don’t want to. I have to finish it. It’s my job.”
“Y/N…”
“See, I’m fine! It’s just a few cuts.” You desperately move your bandaged hand; you can still feel the pain shooting through your hands, but it’s not the point right now.
Jungkook holds your hand tighter and looks deep into your eyes. “I know, you’re not okay. Your hands are still trembling, Y/N. Please listen to me.”
You sigh. You know that Jungkook is stubborn, it won’t be easy to persuade him, but you know that he’s right. Maybe this case is too dangerous for you. “At least until I finish the report for today, please?”
He bites his lower lips, deep in his own thoughts. Jungkook lifts his hand to bring your bandaged hand to his lips, grazing your knuckles softly. “Are you sure?” His eyes never leave yours.
It takes your breath and your mind away, his hot breath against your skin and his brown eyes looking straight into yours. You can still feel his soft lips, hot on your skin when he puts your hand down, still holding it gently. Your heart thumps inside your chest and down to your wrist. Can he hear it? How does it feel so right with your hand in his? You nod. “I’m sure. I have you, right?”
“Yes.” Jungkook squeezes your hand gently one more time to reassure you. “You have me.”
A cough interrupts your interaction with Jungkook. “Well, this is awkward.” Jimin puts your other bandaged hand on your thigh as he rises to clean up the mess. “I’m just- I’m gonna take this call. Bye.” Jimin points at his phone, even though the screen is dark, and hurries out of the infirmary.
Heat rushes to your face; you forget that Jimin was still beside you. You look at Jungkook’s reddened face, completely sure that he also did the same. With that thought, the smiles slipped on your faces.
He releases your hands immediately and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I ruined your blanket.”
You tilt your head in confusion. Then your eyes dart to the blanket on the floor. “Ah… That’s fine. It was good first aid.”
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
You nod and smile. “Sure, thanks Kook.”
“I-I also want to buy you dinner.” He clears his throat, his eyes travel to the wall in front of you. “Not in this building. I’ll take you to a proper restaurant.”
Your eyes widen with the sudden invitation. It’s weird but somehow it brings a smile to your face. Your smile turns into a wider one and you hide it by biting your lower lip. “I’d love that.”
Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast @w0lfqu33n @gee-nee @jaienn @nctssidehoe @codeinebelle @kali-20 @mygalaxysupernova @jeoncookie-bts @kookunot @1-in-abillion @beingbeings @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @yiyi4657 @jinsalpaca @giadalin @spring2787
Taglist open!
#bts au#bts fluff#bts scenarios#bts jungkook#jungkook au#btsgoldnet#btsbookclub#thehouseofbangtan#networkbangtan#hyunglinenetwork#btsguild#thebtsficarchive#bangtanhq#ficswithluv#bighitcity#kwritersworldnet#bangtanarmynet#bangtanfairygarden#btswriterscollective#purplearmynet#armiesnet#bts angst#bts fics#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook
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“It was never meant to go like this”
CW: some dehumanization and referenced bruises/torture
It was never meant to go like this. He'd had a one-, five-, and ten-year plan since he was eleven. He'd been certain he'd be rolling through grad school working towards a job in his specialty and it had just... seemed really simple when he planned it.
Instead, he spent three months barely able to get.off the couch, dropped out of school, spun it as 'time off' to a suspicious Maman and Baba, and he knows - knows, deep down - that no matter their optimistic attitudes on the phone, he's deeply disappointed them.
On top of that, his job, the only one he'd been able to find, involves transcribing records of torture for a creature he is becoming terribly sure thinks as clearly as he does.
A creature fading, lonely and trapped, staring at him while he stares back.
It's not a good feeling.
Bahram sighs, tapping his pencil on his desk, idly creating a rhythm, trying to while away a couple of hours until Miah gets here and he can catch a nap.
After a pause, he hears the rhythm repeated back, and glances up to find the mer watching him, large green eyes focused in his direction, hair floating in the water around its face as it taps a blunt claw against the inside of his tank.
A perfect echo of Bahram's pattern.
He sits back and sighs, raising his hands to sign, "Are you bored, K-I-M-A?"
The mer brightens at the use of his name and rocks a fist up and down for yes. But he says yes to a lot of things, and Bahram's pretty sure he thinks yes is just what you do anytime someone asks you a question, whether you understand or not.
And it says nothing good about his life here if the poor damned thing knows bored before he knows most of the words in the world.
Bahram considers him, and the mer looks back. With time, Bahram has begun to see the slight roundness of his face that might denote his youth, the way his scales shimmered a little, even as they were dulling day by day.
Finally, Bahram signs, "Want to play?"
The mer makes his fist knock up and down even more vigorously, flashing rows of sharp teeth in what Bahram is fairly sure he thinks passes for a smile.
By the time Bahram gets to the platform, the mer is already just below, waiting for him, eyes bright and sparkling.
Bahram tries not to see all the healing places where where the mer has been bruised, sliced open, or punctured. He tries not to think of just how many of those bruised spaces he is responsible for, how the shadows along his ribcage hadn't been there before Dr. Lachlan tied his food intake to research and examination days, how his claws have stopped growing so quickly back in.
He tries not to think about putting in his two weeks' notice and walking the fuck away. It'd just be running from the problem, anyway. Miah would have his head for a hamburger if he did that... and who would play with the poor thing, then, when she's not here?
He picks up one of the big red weights, watches the mer bob around bright and excited, waiting, watching.
Bahram throws it as hard as he can and it sinks immediately towards the bottom.
The mer is off in a flash to snag it and bring it back, tossing it up to him to fumble and drop and then pick up and throw again.
"Playing fetch with a bloody mermaid," He mutters, but he's grinning, a little. The mer's excited happy whistles and vocalizations cheer him, too, and soon enough they get into a good rhythm and he's able to help the mer wear himself down, get nice and tired for sleep tonight.
All the while, he tries not to think about how all the fetch in the world can't bring back the shine to his scales he'd had when he got here, no number of live fish to hunt would fix the fact that they were hurting him.
"You're a sweet little thing," Bahram tells the mer, to its whistle-click in response, head cocked, curious about these unknown words. "Sweet, but we're both a bit fucked up, yeah? Fucked up and lonely."
The mer, though... he's fading.
--
@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumpwhump @yet-another-heathen @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump
#signs of the sea#mer#mer whumpee#mer whump#nonhuman whump#reluctant whumper#whump#reluctant caretaker#dehumanization tw#captivity
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newsies jatp au part 1!
Part one is here! Let me know anything you’d like to see in future/anything I can improve on/if you want to be added to the tag list
As always, reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Hope you enjoy it!
(if anyone has any title ideas please send me an ask I’m rubbish at titles lol)
The Orpheum, Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles – 1995
They’re playing at the Orpheum. They’re playing at the Orpheum. Everything they have done, everything that they have sacrificed all comes down to this moment.
Albert counts them in, and then they’re off.
It’s a great song, Now or Never, and standing on stage with his bandmates and best friends, giving it all that he’s got, Jack’s never been more at home. Music, he decides, is the reason he lives. (Well, that and teasing Al about the hot tech guy he claims he doesn’t have a crush on).
They finish the song with the bang of the smoke machines and the crackle of mic feedback, drenched from head to toe in sweat. Breathing heavily, Jack looks up, hearing for the first time the cheers of the staff and crew. In all of the adrenaline he’d forgotten it was the tech rehearsal, but it’s nice to hear their appreciation anyway.
Oh well. At least they know that they can rock everyone’s faces off when they come to see them play.
“Thank you,” Crutchie leans into the mic, “we’re Sunset Curve.” He winks at the girl behind the table, and Jack chuckles, before spinning around to grab a towel.
Their rhythm guitarists, the Delancey brothers, are grinning stupidly from ear to ear.
“Too bad we wasted that on the sound check, that was the tightest we’ve ever played!” Oscar exclaims. Morris nods his head in agreement, still very out of breath from the performance.
“Wait until tonight, man, when this place gets packed with record execs!” Jack is still very much on an adrenaline rush, bouncing around the stage like and excited child, the ribbon on his arm flying around all over the place.
Crutchie moves over and playfully punches Albert on the arm. “Al, you were smoking.”
“Oh, no, I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.” Albert uses his drumsticks to gesture to the other four boys on the stage.
That’s a load of bull and all of them know it. Al’s the best drummer their age in all of LA.
Seeing the look from Crutchie, he relents.
“All right, I was killin’ it.”
Laughing, Cructchie pulls him into a quick hug, which he reluctantly accepts.
Jack’s stomach growls, a painful reminder of the fact that he hasn’t eaten since the morning. He could murder a street dog right now.
Ah, what the hell. They’re about to play their biggest gig yet, might as well treat themselves.
“I’m thinking we fuel up before the show… I’m thinking street dogs.”
This suggestion is met with full agreement from Crutchie and Albert, but Jack notices Morris slipping off towards the girl who was cheering for them earlier, with Oscar in tow.
“Hey, Delanceys, where you going?” He calls after them.
Oscar just looks at him and shrugs, but Morris replies “I’m good.” The next part of his sentence is directed at the girl across the counter: “Vegetarian, I could never hurt an animal.”
Jack scoffs, and licks his finger and shoves it in Morris’ ear. He recoils and Jack feels a sense of triumph. His mind wonders for a minute, and he vaguely hears Crutchie chatting up the girl, who introduces herself as Rose.
“Here’s our demo. And a t-shirt, size beautiful.”
Crutchie heard someone use that line of their girlfriend when they were shopping once, and he’s never really stopped using it. Apparently it works though, because Rose looks impressed.
“Thanks! I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” She says with a small laugh.
Albert butts in, “Good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands.”
Yeah. That’s a problem that they need to fix if they want to keep selling merch.
Oscar flicks Albert’s cap and slaps Jack on the shoulder. “Don’t you guys have to go and get hot dogs or something?”
“Sure.” Jack swings himself up on the table towards Rose, gesturing at Morris as he does so. “He had a hamburger for lunch.”
Leaving through the side entrance, Jack is immediately hit with the smell and general hubbub of LA. The bright lights blind him for a second after the dimly lit club, and he blinks a few times before walking towards the street with a bounce in his step.
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
Albert makes a face. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”
“No,” Jack laughs, shoving him away and kicking up water in a nearby puddle, “what that girl said in there tonight. About our music. It’s like an energy, connecting us with people. They can feel us when we play.”
Crutchie and Albert snigger slightly, and he puts his arms around them and pulls them in by the shoulders.
“I want that connection with everybody.”
Crutchie shifts his weight onto his good leg. “We’re gonna need more t-shirts.”
They laugh and set off down the street, past a queue of fans waiting to get into their show. Jack pulls his hood up over his head, shielding his face, and Albert does likewise with his hat. Crutchie, ever the sweetheart, takes the two t-shirts he was holding and passes them to the girls at the back of the line with a quick smile. The squeals follow them down the street until they’re out of view of the club and into the back alley nearby, where the street dogs are sold.
Jack has to admit that the vendor is probably breaking a ton of health and safety laws, especially as he serves the condiments out of the boot of his car with all of the grease and dirt, but the food is good and he doesn’t mind that much.
A quick sizzling sound and curse breaks into his thought as Albert drops pickle juice on the battery cables.
“Man,” Al muses, “I can’t wait to until we eat somewhere where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”
Jack hears him briefly mention something to the vendor, who brushes it off, but his brain is too focused on eating right now to care.
“This is awesome you guys.” He turns to his best friends, his family, and grins. “We’re playing The Orpheum. I can’t even count how many bands have played here, and then ended up being huge!”
He holds out his street dog and the other two follow suit.
“Eat up boys, because after tonight, everything changes.”
All three of tap their street dogs together, and then simultaneously take huge bites.
It doesn’t taste quite right. But then, Jack thinks, this is LA, so it might just be slightly different meat to before?
Al voices his thoughts. “That’s a new flavour…”
“Chill man,” Crutchie, every optimistic, reassures him, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.”
With every fibre of his being screaming at him to stop, Jack takes another bite.
He doesn’t remember much after that. There’s an ambulance, and a lot of bright lights, and Crutchie is crying. He feels helpless. He can’t even move to comfort his friends and that hurts him the most. He sees flashes of hospitals, people, nurses, Albert, Crutchie, nurses again.
And then pitch black.
As his eyes adjust to the dark, he can just make out the shapes of the others curled up together in the corner sobbing. Jack crawls his way over, holding onto them as if they’re the only thing keeping him afloat. He holds them until Crutchie is so quite he’s not sure if he’s awake anymore, and until Albert’s sobs turn into sniffles and then silence. All with one thought running through his head.
Shit.
Tag list!: @maggs-is-a-muppet @oof-musicals @my-musical-trashlife @fancy-worm-with-the-poyle-inside @owlscbooks @fandomscraziness22
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Good Old Days - JJ Maybank
Gif credit @toesure !
Summary: you and JJ meet once again after a harsh break up.
Word count: 1,982
Warnings: cheating, angst underage drinking, implied sex at the end. I do NOT condone the action of going back to someone who cheated.
You sat alone in a booth at a local restaurant, diagonal from where your friend Nicole sat with an unfamiliar boy. You had offered to 'be a look out' for the girl when she brought up how her friends had helped her get a blind date. Nicole had the fear that she might embarrass herself or something might go south, so you decided to lend a helping hand to calm her down.
You subtly flicked your eyes up and down from the menu to your friend as a waitress came up to you. "What can I get you hun?"
"Just a vanilla milkshake and fries please." The lady nodded and took the menu from your hands. You reached inside of your bag and pulled out your notebook. Finding a pen, you began to mindlessly draw little doodles of whatever came to mind.
You were actually enjoying the peace and quiet until the front door bell chimed. Before you could react, JJ Maybank took the spot right across from you. "Can I help you?" You scoffed, closing the notebook.
"Nope. I'm helping my friend out and it looks like you happen to be doing the same thing for your friend too." JJ said, looking behind his shoulder to see his friend give him a thumbs up. You rolled her eyes, defensively crossing your arms.
"Okay, well how about you move to the other booth where you can 'help' by yourself." JJ dramatically put his hand to his heart, "does Y/F/N Y/L/N not want to spend time with me?" "The last time I was near you it didn't end well." You hissed. JJ immediately got quiet as the waitress came up to deliver your order.
"Oh! Would you like anything dear? On the house for the couple!" The waitress smiled, "oh no we're not-" "actually I would love a hamburger and a chocolate milkshake please!" JJ grinned. "Coming right up."
"Seriously JJ why can't you just sit somewhere else?" You asked as you dipped a fry into the milkshake. JJ furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you take a bite. "What? It's good." You defended.
"See I could, but Steve made me promise to help him out. And now I get to talk to you which is exactly what I want to be doing on my Friday night." Sarcasm dropped from his voice as you bite your tongue.
"Well you can leave. You never were good at keeping promises anyway." You seethed, taking the cherry out of the milkshake and popping into your mouth. JJ became quiet once more as the sudden flashback hit him.
Flashback:
2 years. 2 years was all it took for something so positive and bright, to turn into something dead. 2 years was all it took for JJ Maybank to own, and then break your heart.
You two had been dating for a full two years, both of you guys admitting you were in love. Making promises that you two couldn't keep. One of them being, 'I'll always love you.'
JJ broke that the minute his lips touched some tourons at an end of the year school party. You had lost sight of your boyfriend in the middle of the party after telling him you were going to the bathroom. It took you 10 minutes to find him with the unknown girl.
"Have you seen- oh." Your words slipped your mind as you saw a boy and girl break away from a kiss. Only to reveal that face that made your heart break. "I better... I better g-go." You stumbled over your words, your legs moving as fast as they could out of that house and far away from JJ.
You didn't know what to do, what to think, how to act, what to say, everything just became numb. Like someone had just ripped your heart from your chest, and dangled it in front of your face as if it were mocking you. So you just ran, and ran all the way to your house. Dried tears stained your face as you were panting, on the verge of passing out.
Your mind felt fuzzy, as if it were an old TV and an antenna was knocked loose, like all you heard was static and a ringing. You shook your head frantically as you paced in the living room. A rapid knock echoed in the silent room as you let out a sob. You slowly walked to the door, your hand shaking as it hesitantly reached out.
You twisted the handle and pulled the door open to reveal a frantic JJ. "Y/N please let me-" "Don't even fucking start JJ." You said, cautiously backing away from the door. JJ walked into the house as he tried to grab hold of your wrists.
You pulled your wrists back from JJ's grip as you began to have trouble breathing. "You fucking kissed some random girl. Who knows what the fuck would've happened if I didn't walk into that room." You mumbled to yourself as your head began to ache.
"Y/N you know I wouldn't do that!" "When you're in a relationship you don't fucking kiss somebody else! I didn't think you'd do that yet here we are!" You raised your voice as you paced again.
"Open your fucking eyes, it's so obvious I'm in love with you!" JJ yelled back, causing you to flinch, his breath smelled of alcohol. Your eyes suddenly fell to the ground, afraid to look at him without breaking down.
"You need to leave," your voice wavered, "you need to leave and not come back. You can't look at me. You can't speak my name. You can't have anything to do with me, Maybank. We're fucking done." You breathed out, feeling as though you had a boulder crushing your body.
"Y/N. I made you a promise that I'd love you, please let me keep going with that promise." JJ begged, his eyes burning harshly with tears. "You broke your promise, you can't come back from that."
JJ let out a sigh as his head slumped down, forcing his legs to walk out the front door, and out of your life.
Memory over.
"Look, this isn't a guilt trip: I just genuinely want to know if you dislike me so I can stop bothering you." JJ said, fidgeting with his fingers. You sighed as you swirled the straw around the milkshake. "I don't dislike you as a human, I fucking despise what you did to me." You admitted.
"I've changed Y/N. I haven't been with any other girl, I haven't spoken with that other girl since then. Please just give me a break. I've been busy trying so fucking hard. I'm doing the best I can. Please, please don't ask more of me." JJ frowned, his leg now anxiously tapping.
You let out a scoff, but you couldn't lie to yourself. You missed being with JJ, you missed him so damn much, but you didn't want to admit it. Your eyes flickered to your friend who was standing up and giving Steve a kiss on the cheek.
Their date was over, but you and JJ sat firmly in the booth. "Let me just drive you home like the good days, just hear me out." JJ begged. You cracked your knuckles, a habit you gained after the break up. "Fine. But so help me Maybank if you fuck it up you will never, I repeat ever come speak to me again." JJ let out a breath of relief and thanked you.
You couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of luck when he offered, glad that you chose to walk to the diner. You two sat in silence for a bit of the ride before JJ turned on the radio. 'Wonderwall' by Oasis played through the sound system, memories of this song hitting you in the face like a brick.
JJ began to obnoxiously shout the lyrics like he would when you guys went on drives together. He would roll the windows down, blast the volume and just let it all out. At first you were annoyed with the boy, but as soon as he nudged you with his elbow you began shouting the lyrics as well. At that moment, things felt normal. Like nothing bad happened between them, and that scared you shitless.
When the song ended, JJ turned down the volume and began to speak, "you know, I never took your school photo out of my wallet. It's still there. And every night after... we broke up, I would just look at it and cry. Because I drank and I ended up losing the best thing I ever got in life. And believe me I know drinking is no excuse for what I did. I lost the one person that understood me more than my other friends, than myself. And I fucked it all up. And I know I can't take back what I did. Saying sorry won't change the hurt I made you feel. But I want you to know I'm truly trying my best to be a different person than who I was before." His voice was shaking as he found it hard to look at the road.
"I can try to forgive you Maybank, but that night has been burned into my memory. And it's gonna take a lot of time before I can forget it." You mumbled, looking out the window watching the trees zoom by.
"I'd wait 100 years if it meant that you would talk to me again." JJ muttered as he pulled into your driveway. "Do you.. want to come in? And like, catch up?" You wanted to punch yourself in the face for your offer, but again you couldn't deny how much you missed him.
JJ was shocked at your words, his mouth slightly open as he nodded his head. You walked into your house and to your luck, nobody was home.
You guys sat in your room, silence filling the air once again. You walked over to a picture frame on the desk and picked it up. The picture was of JJ after he had fallen asleep with his head in your llap. "Remember this night?" You asked as he looked over your shoulder.
"Yeah. I came over to make cupcakes for John B's birthday but we ended up just throwing flour and eggs at each other." JJ laughed loudly, remembering how he would find flour in his hair and ears for days after. "Then we sat on the couch and you laid your head in my lap. I played with your hair until you fell asleep and you snored so loud." You smiled at the memory.
"God I fucked up." He whispered. "Yeah. Yeah you did. When you sat across from me in the booth I wanted to flip my shit. I wanted to go off on you and say something like, 'oh fuck off you piece of shit. You think I care about you? That I give a damn about your feelings? Fuck off.' I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me." You confessed.
"Damn Y/N. I- I don't even know what to say." JJ said as you faced him. You couldn't help but stare at his lips, the lips you craved so desperately. You hated yourself for this. You hated yourself for making this move, but you leaned in anyway and kissed him. You were taken back at your actions, but your knees nearly buckled at his touch.
JJ gently held the side of your face as he pulled back. "I don't want to hurt you." He said, his words echoing in your head. "I'm desperate. And I'm pretty sure you are too. This is a one time thing until you gain my trust back. But for now, just shut up and have sex with me."
#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj x reader#jj outer banks#rudy pankow#rudy pankow imagine#rudy pankow x reader#rudy x reader#rudy obx#kiara outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outer banks#kiara x reader#obx kiara#kiara carrera#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#rafe cameron#sarah cameron#madelyn cline#madison bailey#pope heyward
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Are Ya Winning, Gos?
“Just don’t get hit by rocks this time, okay?”
“Gee, I never would’ve thought of that.”
“I know,” Gosalyn says solemnly. “That’s why you keep getting anvils and junk dropped on you. We really need to get you a helmet.”
Gosalyn tries to teach Drake how to play Legend of Legends Quest.
Here on Ao3
“Uhg, are you kidding me!”
Drake blinks and looks away from patching his costume back together—again. He’d had no idea how many buttons Darkwing should’ve lost when he’d watched the show as a kid. He’s already had to put in a bulk order for them.
“Ahh!” Gosalyn drops her game in her lap and scrubs her hands over her face.
“Having fun?”
Gosalyn glares at him then slouches somehow further down into the couch. Drake makes a mental note to include some more stretches in their training routine. “I’m trying to level up my character so I can play with Launchpad and one of the Dewey’s brothers whose character is super OP but this stupid Routerrock monster just! Keeps! Killing me!”
Huh. He can honestly say he hadn’t been expecting that. “Sounds annoying.” He frowns. “They want you to level up before you can join them?”
“No, uhg, they’re both super nice about it obviously but I haven’t really had time to play since before—you know. And I don’t want to be carried!” She punches the back cushion of the couch. “I want to kill stuff myself!”
“Just what every superhero wants to hear from his sidekick,” he responds wryly, standing up and wandering over to where she’s sprawled across the couch.
Gosalyn sits up just enough to roll her eyes at him. “It’s video game, you—uhg, whatever, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Oh?” he asks mildly, leaning his arms on the back of the couch and looking down at her. “You sure?”
“I mean, it’s—whatever, you don’t have to pretend to care, um, but. Basically, I’m trying to beat this big rock monster so my character can get stronger but there’s like, this trick to it that I just haven’t figured out yet. And it’s frustrating me. That’s all.”
“Sounds tough,” Drake says. “You must really enjoy playing to keep going after something so frustrating.”
She shrugs, looking away from him and down at the couch cushions. “I mean, it’s fun still, so.”
“Must be. Cool graphics, too. I like that ridiculously huge sword you’ve got.”
Gosalyn snorts. “Thanks. It was a quest reward.” She’s still pointedly not looking at him when she quietly says, “Do you—um, do you want to play?”
Drake blinks. “Really?”
“Well,” she starts, louder and brasher and attempting at blasé, “I’ve already died to this guy so many times not even you could screw up my character’s stats more, so.”
Drake rolls his eyes. “How reassuring.”
“But yeah, I mean. If you wanted to. I don’t mind.”
“Sure, okay,” Drake says, hurdling the couch and landing on the cushion next to Gosalyn. “Sounds like fun.”
She gives him a particular smile he’s been seeing more and more often as they get used to being around each other and he and Launchpad get to know her. It makes something warm and happy squeeze at his heart—he’s beginning to think he’d do pretty much anything to see her smile like that.
“Okay, so this is how you move around and stuff.” She makes her character spin around in a tight circle. “And these are the block and attack buttons. You can get the menu with this one, but please don’t use all my items or I’ll be very, very sad.”
“So you’re saying I should definitely use all those glowing potion things right now.”
“No!” She pushes at him. “God, you’re so annoying.”
Drake laughs and takes the controller from her. “Alright, alright, I promise not to touch them.”
She huffs and throws herself back on the couch then immediately leans back up again. “I’m out of PvP mode right now so if anyone else shows up you can just, like, ignore them. Do not chat with anyone, I—you know what, I’ll just disable that too.” She takes the controller back and navigates through the menu to toggle the chat function off.
“The amount of trust here is heartwarming,” Drake deadpans.
Gosalyn tabs down a few more rows and hesitates, then says, “I’m gonna set the camera on auto too, that’s probably a bit beyond you right now.” She clicks around, then hands the controller back over. “Okay! All set for what I’m sure is going to be a very entertaining fight.”
“Trust and confidence. I’m so touched.”
Gosalyn has left her character in a dark, narrow stone hallway. A line of torches dots the walls, dragging the player’s attention toward the glowing block of light at the end of the hall.
“So,” he asks. “Where am I going?
Gosalyn lets out a long breath. “Oh my god,” she mutters to herself. Drake makes a heroic effort and stops himself from laughing. “Okay, just keep going down the hallway. No—that’s the wrong way. Toward the light, Drake, please. This is already so painful.”
Drake does not snicker. He simply walks the character forward to the light and triggers the loading screen for the next area.
“Okay, so,” Gosalyn says as the shape of a large stone chamber renders onscreen. “There’s gonna be this big rock monster in this room—that’s who you’re fighting. He doesn’t have any minions so you can literally just focus on him and try not to get crushed.” She tilts her head. “I hope you’re better at that than you are in real life.”
“Are the continued insults really necessary?”
“Yes. Okay, see him? That’s the guy. Don’t let him—”
A giant rock fist crushes him immediately. It isn’t exactly what Drake had in mind when Gosalyn asked him if he wanted to play. He huffs.
Gosalyn hisses in sympathy. “See that—that’s not what I meant by don’t get crushed.”
Drake levels her with a glare. “I kind of gathered that, thank you.”
He taps through the character respawn loading page until it drops them back in the corridor before the monster.
“Oh, yeah, try again. Just don’t get hit by rocks this time, okay?”
“Gee, I never would’ve thought of that.”
“I know,” Gosalyn says. “That’s why you keep getting anvils and junk dropped on you.”
“That was one—that was tw—that doesn’t happen to me that often!”
“Oh, it super does,” she nods solemnly. “We really need to get you a helmet.”
“Now she’s all about helmets,” he says, moving the character forward into the battle area again. This time he darts away from the monster a couple times—but within a minute the character gets hit by not one, but two giant rock fists and the death screen pops back up.
“Yikes,” Gosalyn says. “This is just getting a little sad, actually, so maybe you can stop—"
“Wait,” Drake says, navigating his way back to the starting point. “Let me try one last time.”
“Uh, sure,” Gosalyn says. “But please don’t break my controller when you die again.”
“I won’t!” Die or break the controller, hopefully. “Look, I’ll make a bet with you. If I can beat this guy, you have to start helping me sew the buttons back on my costume.”
“And when you can’t?”
He makes a show of sighing. “We’ll get Hamburger Hippo for dinner tonight.”
She just looks at him, eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I’m trying to decide if it would be unheroic to let you make a bet you can’t possibly win.” She squints. “Eh, I want Hamburger Hippo more than I care about that. You’re on.”
Drake restarts the character and runs forward to the boss area. Right. No item run with a mid-level character that isn’t his. Now that he’s got a handle on Gosalyn’s specific build a single Routerrock won’t pose too much of a problem. He won’t hit speed-run times, but that’s just fine.
His heart beats quickly in his chest. The payoff for pulling this off is going to be so good.
Gosalyn shifts beside him. “You know, this is kind of a hard boss so you don’t need to like, feel bad if you can’t beat it or anything. I mean, I haven’t quite managed it yet—”
The room loads and Drake immediately scales the wall. Gosalyn stills beside him.
Three minutes later and the monster is dead, stone figure dissolving away into pixels. Gosalyn’s character punches the air and starts counting up new XP.
“What.”
Drake finally lets his grin break through. “Probably would’ve been faster with those power ups you’ve got banked, but eh. Your ranged damage is actually pretty good, though, how come you haven’t tried sniping it while dodging out of its melee distance?”
“Buh—Because that’s no fun,” she says distantly. “Wait—what just happened!?”
Gosalyn’s staring between him and the game with a flat look of shock. Drake sets the controller back in her lap and leans back. “I’m a nerdy kid from the ‘90s, Gos. I’ve put more hours into Legend of Legends Quest than you’ve been alive.” He stands and stretches his arms above him. “Hope you’re excited to start sewing buttons.”
“You tricked me!” She cries, vaulting off the couch and throwing herself at his upper back. It knocks the wind out of him and they both go tumbling to the floor.
Drake groans into the rug. Ow. At least Gosalyn had something to cushion her fall.
“You Legend Quest sharked me! Liar!”
Drake wheezes face down onto the floor. “Oh my god, Gos, I’m not LP you can’t just —”
“Stop whining, you’re fine,” she says, but she jumps off of his back and scurries around to kneel by his head instead. “Or you will be until it gets out that Darkwing Duck himself is a scam artist. A con man. A frivolous fraud who lies to innocent children—”
Drake sits up with a groan, rotating his shoulder. “You really want that burger, huh.”
She sniffs. “What I want is for my hero to be a good role model. And yet,” she sighs dramatically, “I am let down. Literally.”
“Again,” Drake says, “I am neither LP nor a climbing wall.”
Gosalyn rolls her eyes and drops down to sit beside him. She doesn’t look at him, just bites her lip and fiddles with the string of her sweatshirt. Drake rubs shoulder and watches her with growing curiosity.
“Uh, you know, there’s a local multiplayer now,” she half-mumbles to the floor. “If you wanted to play again, or whatever.”
Drake swallows around the warmth spreading through his chest. “Would you—do you want to?”
Gosalyn gives a kind of half-shrug. “You know. It could be fun.”
He can’t help the stupid smile that spreads across his face. “I’d like that a lot,” he says, rolling to his feet and reaching down to help Gosalyn back upright. “Let me get my account code so I can log in as my main.”
She gasps and punches his arm. “You have a main? You know what main means? You are such a cheater!” She shakes her head with mock solemnity. “You’re a terrible influence on a growing young mind.”
Drake chuckles and rubs his arm. “Alright, we’ll get Hamburger Hippo. But only tonight! And you still have to help me resew buttons.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Do you know how to get the Lightning Longbow?”
“Yeah?”
“Alright. Deal accepted.”
*
"...Your character is basically just Darkwing."
"I don't know why you're in any way surprised."
“God, you’re the lamest superhero ever. Even Gizmoduck is cooler.”
“Hey!”
*
Friend request received from GosaWin
Friend request accepted
#yes i don't write fic for a year yes i come back with ducktales family bonding#i just love them#ducktales#darkwing duck#drake mallard#gosalyn mallard#this one's mine kids
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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 2: Know No Fear
Chapter 1
Read on AO3
Before I get to the chapter here, I just wanted to say that I am so beyond touched by the response this story has received. It’s difficult to respond to various comments on Tumblr due to the nature of side-blogs, but just know that I read every single lovely thing you all had to say, and it touched my heart. This is personal to me, and to know that you are all touched by it means the world. So thank you, and onward we go!
By the time Claire found all the bedding and made the beds, she was practically faint with hunger. The fact that they’d left England at eleven in the morning and arrived here at two in the afternoon had made her forget that it had, in reality, been almost five hours since they’d been served food on the plane; and that had been no real meal. Claire had also managed to unpack some of Faith’s toys and arrange them lovingly on her bed before she decided to look up somewhere to get food. She’d heard quite a fuss over the pizza on Long Island; it was apparently the only place in the entire world that had “real” pizza. She would like to be the judge of that, eventually. There were so many different Italian places it was making her head swim. She decided to let Faith decide what they would eat since Claire couldn’t seem to make up her mind.
Claire knelt on the floor in front of the couch, which was haphazardly placed in the middle of the room at a very inconvenient diagonal. Bloody movers. Faith was humming in contentment, rocking back and forth.
“Faith?” Claire tapped her knee, but she did not look up from the tablet. “Faith.” Claire gently removed the headphones, causing her to groan in protest. “Faith! Listen to Mummy before you get upset.” Faith grabbed the headphones again, but Claire firmly kept her hands on her wrists. “Are you hungry, baby? Do you want food?”
Faith’s tune immediately changed, relenting her grip on the headphones and nodding enthusiastically, humming increasing in pitch and volume.
Claire smiled, chuckling. “I thought so. Here.” She held up the screenshots of menu samplings that she’d collected. “Do you want pizza? Or…” She swiped to the next image. “Spaghetti? Or Chinese food? Or a hamburger?”
Claire allowed Faith to take her phone into her little hands, watching in amusement as Faith scrolled between the four images, eventually handing the phone back to her mother.
“Spaghetti?”
Her humming heightened again, her hands and fingers twitching and twisting with excitement; stimming, the doctors called it. To Claire, it was just Faith being Faith.
“Ask and ye shall receive, little girl.”
Claire sat back on her heels and searched for the restaurant she’d gotten the spaghetti screenshot from. Christ, there were about forty restaurants called “Uncle Joe’s” in a four mile radius. She eventually settled on the closest one that was on DoorDash and ordered spaghetti and meatballs for Faith, her standard when it came to Italian food, and decided on penne alla vodka for herself. Gillian had insisted the Italian food here was better than in England, so she was quite excited to see for herself.
When the order was placed, she looked up at Faith, expecting her to be engrossed in the tablet again, but she was instead staring at her mother quite intently. She slapped a little hand over Claire’s screen and gave a little grunt.
Claire smiled knowingly. “Spaghetti won’t be here for another thirty minutes, darling. You have to be patient.”
She grunted in defiance, slapping the screen again.
“Hey. Be gentle.” Claire grabbed Faith’s wrist and looked her firmly in the eye. “Do not hit.” Claire unconsciously ran her tongue over the cut on her lip she’d been gifted with this morning.
Claire suddenly had a perfect idea to pass the time; that dance party she’d thought about a few hours ago. Claire smiled to herself and clicked onto Spotify, hitting shuffle on the Disney playlist. Faith’s stubborn demeanor immediately changed when the opening notes of “Under the Sea” began to play. Her face melted into that absent half-smile that Claire had grown accustomed to, and she began swaying back and forth on the couch.
Claire giggled and took Faith’s hands, pushing them back and forth, side-to-side in time with the music. Her grin widened, and she began humming with excitement again. It wasn’t long before the tablet and the headphones were forgotten on the couch, and the two of them were jumping and dancing around the living room, haphazardly avoiding the piles of boxes. Claire couldn’t explain it: Faith’s Disney obsession. She became a different kid when she watched a Disney movie, or listened to the music. Her entire countenance changed. If Claire could throw away every responsibility and every pound she owned to take up permanent residence in Disney World, just so that her daughter would always be this happy and carefree, she would do it in a heartbeat.
In the middle of Claire’s intense performance of “I’ll Make a Man Out of You,” Faith giggling madly and jumping up and down to encourage her mother, the doorbell rang. Claire almost jumped out of her skin and then she laughed, pausing the music.
“Spaghetti is here, lovie!”
Faith clapped her hands and hummed again as Claire shuffled around boxes to the door. She gratefully accepted the hot bag of food, mouth watering at the smell of it. She hadn’t realized how damned hungry she’d been. She inwardly panicked for a moment, realizing she hadn't at all bothered to unpack any silverware, but was relieved to find there was plastic cutlery in the bag. She made a mental note to put them in the sink when they were done instead of throwing them out in case they needed them before she found the motivation to unpack the kitchen boxes.
“Alright, Faithie! First meal in our new home! How’s that?” She, of course, didn’t answer, just kept on with her humming and hand twitching while Claire unpacked their meals. “This is so exciting, darling. Mummy is so happy to be here with you.” She kissed Faith’s forehead as she tucked a napkin into her shirt.
Claire had often caught Frank rolling her eyes at her when she spoke to Faith like this.
“She can’t bloody understand you. Why do you bother?”
Claire’s face turned beet-red with rage. “Just because she can’t talk doesn’t mean she can’t understand.”
To Frank, their daughter was dumb, as well as mute. He could not comprehend that she was a little person, despite her quirks.
No. Not our daughter. Not his.
So, Claire talked to her, despite knowing she’d never talk back, despite not knowing if she ever fully understood what she was saying. Claire knew well enough that the sound of her voice was soothing to her daughter, and that was enough of a reason to talk. And as far as she could tell, she understood quite a bit. Not as much as Claire wished, but enough.
The steaming tins of pasta were opened and Faith dug right in, moaning in pain and dropping her fork into the tin.
“Be careful! It’s hot, darling. You have to blow, remember?” Claire took a forkful of penne and blew on it lightly before putting it in her mouth. “See?”
Faith took a new forkful and heaved an enormous breath before blowing with all her strength, sending a veritable spray of tomato sauce all over the table. Perhaps Claire should have admonished her, told her to be more gentle, but she could not think over how loud she’d burst out laughing. Quite pleased with herself, Faith stuffed the entire forkful of spaghetti into her mouth, humming and bouncing as she did. If Claire was seeing correctly, it looked like she was smirking.
Doesn’t understand, indeed!
Christ…how could anyone not see how special she was?
Eventually, Claire had to inform her daughter that she was, in fact, blowing too hard, and so the rest of the meal proceeded in a slightly less messy manner. When Faith had apparently had enough, she unceremoniously ripped her napkin off and slid out of the chair, disappearing from the kitchen.
“Faith! Come back, please.”
She, of course, did not.
Claire sighed, setting down her fork despite not being quite full yet. She got up to see what she was up to, but paused upon hearing the music start up again. Faith quickly scampered back into the kitchen, Donny Osmond’s voice getting more clear with every step. Claire laughed again.
“Ah, missing the music were we?”
Faith began swaying back and forth again.
“Would you mind if I finished eating, then?” Claire sat back down, and Faith continued bobbing. “Why don’t you dance for me while I eat, hm?”
She didn’t need to tell her twice.
Faith had the choreography from the film memorized, of course, and it was the same for every song thereafter. Claire paused her eating to give hearty applause and many a “Brava!” after each song. If Claire listened closely enough, she could hear Faith’s buzzing hum morph into something that almost resembled the melody of the song that was playing, and it made her heart soar. She’d read online dozens of stories of children with autism that were completely nonverbal, but then all of a sudden they would sing entire songs word for word flawlessly. She prayed the same would hold true for her little princess someday.
Perhaps music therapy would get that out of her.
Jesus H. Christ, one thing at a time, Beauchamp.
After dinner was ended and the leftovers were sufficiently tucked away in the fridge (and the plastic cutlery was put in the sink), Claire followed Faith into the living room and was overwhelmed by the pile of boxes. She exhaled through puffed cheeks, anxiety crawling its way into the pit of her stomach.
“Faith,” Claire said, suddenly having an idea. “Would you like to sleep with Mummy tonight?”
She hummed, bounced and clapped.
“Lovely.” Claire smiled. “Let’s go look at your room first, hm? Because sleeping with Mummy will not be a permanent arrangement.”
She took Faith’s hand and led her into the room, where Faith promptly flung herself onto the bed and scooped all of the stuffed animals into her little arms. Claire broke into an enormous grin.
“I’ll bet you missed them very much,” she said. “And they missed you, too.”
Her very favorite, a very worn out Sorcerer Mickey, had, of course, remained with them and gone in her carry on. But the others--the Minnie’s, the other Mickey’s, the teddy bears, the plush baby dolls--had been packed away and shipped here a few weeks ago.
“This is your room now, lovie. You’ll sleep here tomorrow, and every night after that. But tonight is a special night. Yes?”
Claire outstretched her hand, gesturing for them to head across the hall into her own room, and Faith responded by scooping every stuffed animal into her arms and waddling out past Claire. Claire chuckled breathily through her nose and followed her into her own bedroom. She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, this room, sparse as it was for now, was at least empty of all boxes. Faith plopped her little friends onto the bed and scrambled up.
“Ah-ah, PJ’s first, little girl.” Claire scooped her off the bed. “We’ll not be spending our first night in this bed in dirty airport clothes.” Claire dug through one of the suitcases for a fresh pair of pajamas for herself and Faith. If Claire really wanted them to be clean, she would have insisted on a shower for both of them (ever since Frank had left, Claire had always taken Faith into the shower with her; she didn’t want to leave her alone for that long). But she was far too exhausted, even if it was only six o’clock on the Eastern Seaboard. She was in no mood to fight with Faith to get clean after the day they’d had.
When they were both properly accoutered for bed, Claire scooped her up again and deposited her in bed. She retrieved the tablet from the couch, trying her best to narrow her vision to avoid seeing the Box Everest in her living room. She wondered when the hell she’d feel like tackling all that…
For now, she settled next to Faith in bed, laying on about four stuffed animals in the process, much to her daughters dismay given the loud moan Faith uttered.
“Well, I’m sorry! They’re quite the bed hogs, darling.” Claire pulled the toys out from underneath her and pushed them closer to Faith. “Now, what shall we watch tonight?”
Their collection of DVDs was far grander than the few movies that they had on digital download on the tablet, but the thought of finding them, then the DVD player, and then sitting in that room with the rest of the boxes made Claire nauseous. So their pickings would be slim tonight. Not that Faith minded in the least.
Claire half expected her to put Frozen on for the third time today, but she instead settled on The Little Mermaid. Claire smiled warmly.
“This was my favorite when I was your age, baby. I remember seeing it in theaters. Ariel was my Elsa back then.”
She allowed Faith to hold the tablet, of course, and she snuggled into her, gathering her tiny body into her arms as the movie’s opening chords began. Despite how rowdy their dinner had been, Claire had a feeling that she would not at all be fighting sleep tonight. They’d been awake a hell of a lot longer than it seemed they were, and the meltdowns of the day were enough to wear even Faith out.
Not shockingly, she was out like a light before they even got to “Part of Your World,” which disappointed Claire just a bit; she’d been looking forward to hearing Faith hum along.
Gently and oh-so-carefully, Claire pried the tablet from her sleeping hands and shut it off, setting it on the nightstand to her left. She adjusted Faith’s little body so she was properly lying down before getting up to turn the light off. Claire smoothed her unruly curls before bending down to press a kiss to her temple as she settled under the covers beside her. Again, she laid atop of several stuffed animals. Chuckling to herself, she picked them up and gingerly put them on the nightstand with the tablet.
As Claire’s head hit the pillow, she began running down the mental list of things she had to do tomorrow. Breakfast, then call an Uber to get to the dealership — shit, what the hell were they going to have for breakfast? Leftover pasta?
Scratch that. Call the Uber right away, get to a diner or somewhere else for breakfast. Faith will be quite excited to have chocolate chip pancakes. That thought made Claire smile. Then get a second Uber to take them from the diner to the dealership. Put that new Instacart to use and order some groceries so that they didn’t have to go to the diner every morning for the rest of their lives. Claire had shopped online for a car to lease when they arrived, and if everything went smoothly at the dealership, she’d be driving home in it tomorrow.
She also made a note to stop somewhere for a new SIM card and to cancel her international phone plan and start up a local plan. The thought of having an American phone number seemed strange, but also comforting. Not only did it seem to be the last step in finalizing her new permanent residence in the States, but it was also a comfort to know that Frank would never be able to contact her again.
Shit.
She didn’t plug in her phone.
Groaning in annoyance, Claire peeled herself from her daughter’s side and out of bed to rifle through her purse for her charger. When did I get so damned scatterbrained…?
Well, that was a dumb question.
The world had come crashing down on her the day Frank told her he was through. Everything seemed to spiral out of control in that moment, and every single thing she had done since then had been an attempt to regain that control. It worked, for the most part, but she still felt like she was losing brain cells by the second since he’d dropped the bomb on her.
Faith was having a meltdown. It wasn’t necessarily one of her worst ones, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. Needless to say, things could have been better. Nothing in particular had set her off as far as Claire could tell, and Claire was beside herself trying to get it out of her.
“What’s wrong, baby? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong…are you hurt? Hungry?” She felt her head for a fever, but came up negative. “Faith, darling, what’s wrong?”
“For fuck’s sake, Claire! She isn’t going to answer!” Frank slammed a hand on the kitchen table.
Faith shrieked and clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with terror.
“Frank! Don’t do that!” Claire’s voice hitched. “Shh…it’s alright baby, Mummy is here…” She cupped Faith’s face in her hands as her daughter carried on, hands still firmly pressed into her ears.
“You know she can’t handle loud noises, Frank.” Claire tried to keep her voice level and quiet, not wanting to upset her further.
“She can’t handle anything Claire! That’s precisely the issue!”
“Do not raise your voice.” Claire was losing patience. “You’re making it worse.”
“Everything makes it worse! And what is it? What did it this time?”
“It is autism, Frank. You bloody well know that.”
“Christ, I know! I hear the word hundreds of times a day!”
“Oh, for God’s sake…” Claire’s face became hot with anger. “You have been nothing but difficult since her diagnosis, Frank. I feel like I’m doing this all alone! Why can’t you set aside your personal feelings for her? She’s your flesh and blood! How can you talk about her like this?”
Frank shook his head. “No flesh and blood of mine would turn out like that.”
Claire felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “What are you saying…?”
“I don’t…want this, Claire. I can’t do it anymore.”
“You can’t…You can’t do it? You haven’t done a bloody thing!” Her voice was near to shouting now, and Faith looked like her head was about to explode from the sheer force with which she was squeezing her ears.
“If you want to be burdened with someone like her for the rest of your life, be my guest. I’m through.”
“So that’s it then? You’re walking out on five years of marriage?” Claire stood up, leaving Faith in the kitchen and following him to the front door. “On your four-year-old daughter?”
He turned and gave her a grave, disgusting look as he opened the door. “That is not my daughter.”
Claire found her eyes welling up with tears again, as they had nearly every night since. And for perhaps the thousandth time she asked herself: How could she have been so wrong about somebody? How could she have married someone that would be so despicable towards his own child?
And for perhaps the millionth time, she silently vowed that she would do anything and everything for her daughter. God, she would walk through fire for her. She practically did. She vowed to be everything Faith needed, to fill the empty position of father, to devote every breath and every beat of her heart to raising her with love and patience. Every time she was harsh with her, and simultaneously every time she relented to her to avoid a meltdown, she felt like she was doing it all wrong. She could’ve been more patient, she could have reasoned with her instead of giving in…
But the truth was, every day was unpredictable, and no two situations were the same.
I’m doing the best I bloody can. And I always will, baby.
Luckily, her residence didn't start for another two weeks, so she and Faith could get settled, and Faith could get to know Mrs. Lickett before she had to watch her full time. The thought left knots in her stomach and a hard lump in her throat. Finding a sitter in Oxfordshire with the right qualifications had been a nightmare, and Claire had almost up and quit medical school because of it. Thank God she didn’t. Mrs. Lickett seemed more than qualified, however; it was just a matter of whether or not Faith would allow her to…well…exist in this apartment at all.
Claire absently rolled over to check the time on her phone, and she groaned audibly. 9:02. She’d been lying awake, mind racing, for nearly three hours. That was another thing she hadn’t managed to recover: a quiet enough mind to allow her to sleep. Sighing deeply, she gathered Faith’s sleeping little body into her arms, burying her face in her curls, breathing her in.
We’ve got another long day ahead of us, lovie. If you wouldn’t mind sharing some of that strength of yours, I’d quite appreciate it.
The truth is plain to see, Faith. You were sent to rescue me.
#outlander#outlander au#outlander fanfic#outlander fanfiction#claire fraser#claire beauchamp#claire randall#faith fraser#jamie fraser#frank randall
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Blisters On His Fingers - Chapter 2 - “First Date, If John Doesn’t Ruin it”
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4.3k
Chapters: 2/25
Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, Minor Paul McCartney/John Lennon
Plot Summery: George can't help but watch Rory Storm and The Hurricanes play, but John and Paul know he just has his eyes for their drummer. Ringo has some problem with his hands, and George may just see his perfect opportunity to talk to the handsome drummer. (Hamburg Beatle Era)
Note: It’s herE! Here’s a litlle something, as a early Christmas gift! Multi Chapter Hamburg Starrison Fic? you bet! @cirilee and I worked very hard on research and planning for the fic and I’m so happy to finaLLY released the first continuation chapter (Thank you sOOO much Ciri! ily ::o::)
Read Chapter 1 Here
Inhaling the stale air in the Bambi Kino cinema was probably the worst thing to wake up to since arriving in Hamburg, but after last night, George barely even noticed. Peeking his eyes open, he adjusted to the artificial light in the damp cement block they called a room. He felt as light as air… George had kissed him. Ringo Starr, George Harrison kissed Ringo Starr.
It’s a wonder George had gotten any sleep at all after that. He remembers staring up at the pitch black ceiling for hours last night and just looking at his smile, the smoothness of his cheek and scruff of his jaw… reliving that moment when he just fucking went for it.
George let out a pleased sigh and stretched his arms above his head.
After a moment he turned over to the bed opposite his only to be faced with two snickering bastards staring back at him. Of-fucking-course, can’t have one single moment of peace can I?
“Sleep alright’ there princess?” John smirked taking a drag from his ciggy.
George groaned. No, not even John could ruin this morning for him.
“Shut up Lennon, and give me drag huh?” He reached toward the nightstand table for the cigarettes, but Paul swooped in all to quick before George could take a blow.
“What the-”
“You can have a ciggy after you tell us the details. So spill.” Paul smirked and scooted beside John, taking advantage of his leverage.
“Details? I- what do you want to know? How do you know anything happened?” George stammered, he thought it would be easy to burst out and tell his best mates what happened, but his nerves seemed to get the best of him.
Paul scoffed. “Well for starters, you woke up in this shithole with that dreamy smile on your face.”
George felt himself flush, gosh he was smiling pretty wide huh?
“Yea, and not to mention you coming home at fucking 4 in the mornin’.” John quipped while tapping his ashes off onto the floor, which Paul detested, but couldn’t really argue with considering how nasty the room already was.
“Well- I.. I’m sure you both enjoyed the alone time.” George teased, hoping to distract from himself a little longer. It held some truth, it was pretty hard living just the three in one room, even harder when he bunked with Pete. John and Paul rarely got to get cozy and the two of them were a committed item, which took awhile since John insisted he wasn’t “queer”. Course, he was over the moon for Paul the moment they met, which was pretty frustrating at first. George saw it, and he knows as soon as those two finally stopped being resisitent, they were all over each other.
John leaned back lazily and chuckled. “I wish! Sadly, Paul wouldn’t put out. The only tossin’ and turnin’ all he’d do was worry about you getting home, real mood killer you are Georgie boy-” Paul smacked a pillow into John’s face before he kept running his mouth.
“Piss off John! He’s distracting us! Come on’ George and tell us before John gets his teeth punched in will ya?”
George snickered at the display of Paul looking like an eager parent or older sibling, practically on the edge of his seat.
George fiddled a little with his hands, remembering how the night before he used these same ones to care for Ringo’s palms. How rough Ringo’s hands felt from years of drumming. George liked that much more than silky soft hands, it’s like every scar and callus could tell a story. He hoped Ringo would let him hold them again during their date- Ohfuck. THEIR DATE.
“Shit! My date! He asked me on a date!” George was standing now, throwing off his blanket and immediately going into a panic.
Ringostarraskedmeonadate! Howcould I forget thaT-
The lad was already rummaging hopelessly for clean clothes to wear to no avail. While John and Paul were both now standing probably trying to catch up on the bomb he just dropped into the room.
“You finally snagged a date with the Hurricane’s drummer?”
John was shocked like he couldn’t believe his ears.
George looked up from his pile of clothes and he knew he was unfolding, it couldn't be stopped now. “I- well I kissed im’ first, then he asked to see me tomorrow, so… yes?”
“Hold on! Wait- you’re telling me you kissed him and didn’t tell us? Just sat there like a smiling idiot knowing you kissed the lad we watched you pine over for months?” Paul was almost offended, all that waiting and George didn't tell him sooner?
“Listen!” George didn’t have time for questions, the stakes were much higher now “Yes! Yes okay? I kissed him, and now we have a date,TODAY, and i have no fucking idea when he gets here so if one of you could get off your asses and HELP ME PLEASE!”
George was losing his mind, he had no idea what to wear, how much time he had, what he was supposed to do- but of course, Paul did. “George, clean yourself up, and I’ll find you some clothes alright?”
“Yeah, and calm down too, don’t want to spook him looking like you just left a crack house.”
George looked over to the wall mirror, he did look frantic, definitely not first date with Ringo material. His eyes were wide, his hair was unruled, and he was nearly shaking. John had a point. This date was way too important, he can’t ruin it by being this nervous.
George just needed to get ready and hope that he doesn’t make a fool of himself.
Good luck with that.
_______________
Paul had George cleaned up real nice. Black drainies, and one of Paul’s clean white shirts tucked in made George cut a fine figure. Topped off with a large smooth pompadour. Very handsome and slim. Paul was very proud of the simple, yet refined appearance he made up for George’s date. He was a good looking lad all the same, and those fangs that pointed when he smiled had to be a deal breaker. Had he had more time (and spare cash), he almost wanted to go buy him a new fit to really shock Ringo. But- the look was still perfect in Paul’s opinion, but John was insistent he add his own little flare to the mix.
“Make you look tougher, like on stage.”
“He’s not going on stage John, he’s going on a date-”
“Yes, and he’s going to wear the damn jacket!” John argued. Draping a leather jacket on George’s shoulders. He took a much larger role in the getting ready process then was expected. He and Paul fussed left and right over how George needed to look, what shirt, how to wear it, what to say, make his hair messy or clean. Boots or loafers. Smile or brood. The two just couldn’t agree.
As per usual.
“George needs this date to go off without a hitch! Who knows? If they go steady, we might get a new drummer.” John winked.
Last week the lads had to get a replacement drummer to sit in after Pete hauled ass back to Liverpool for some kind of “family emergency”. John seems to think George’s date with Ringo could be an opportunity… Ringo was considered the best drummer as far as Liverpool was concerned, and despite George agreeing that Ringo was 20 times better than Pete, he didn’t like what John was implying. Paul seemed to catch onto it quicker than George was though.
“Oh no no NO, you’re not making George’s date about your little fued with Rory! That’s none of your business.” Paul chided, seeing through John’s casual tone. He knew that face and twinkle in his eyes. He was scheming, and John Lennon’s schemes never ended well.
“I’m just saying, you can’t date between competing bands. If Geo plays his cards right-”
George had heard enough, he wasn’t letting this crazy idea get to his head. He wanted to enjoy his date, not be John’s pon.
He was about to speak up when suddenly a loud knock at the back door silenced the whole room.
George looked at the door and felt his palms clam up. He shuffled his feet toward the handle. He thought he was going to pass out. This wasn’t even his first date, but it was his first with Ringo, and somehow that made it all the more important.
Another, more faint knock, hit the door, making George jump back slightly. Is that him? Is he here? Gosh if it’s not him-
“Don't just stand there! Open it.” Paul whispered, clearly waiting in anticipation.
When George gathered up his non existent courage and opened the door up, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor…
If he thought seeing Ringo up on stage, was in itself eye-catching, he was grossly unprepared for when he cleans up for a date.
Ringo was standing at the door, looking a bit flustered, but non the less pleased to see George. That smile. George thought he might lose his footing had he not been gripping the door frame. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He wanted to drape an arm around Ringo’s shoulders and admire how handsome he looked. He was stunning, he was sporting nice fitted charcoal trousers, with a white and black checker striped shirt tucked in. He even topped it off with a black corduroy jacket.
“Hmm... now that’s what I call boyfriend material.” Paul muttered behind George, who was also admiring Ringo’s attire.
George barely registered what Paul said until Ringo finally spoke.
“Gosh, I’m- speechless, you look real handsome George.” Ringo gaped while he shuffled his hands out of his pockets.
The two were both clearly nervous, and George just couldn’t even believe Ringo was really here. Last night had felt too much like a dream to be real, but… it was and he was here and-
“Whoa there Ringo! You got on this fancy get up for our little Geo?”
Fucking. Hell. John.
Ringo let out a nervous laugh “Suppose’ so, not too fancy I hope. Havn’t got too much money for a proper restaurant...” Ringo scratched the back of his neck. He seemed a little embarrassed, but George was pretty relieved. He wasn’t into fancy smacy places like that anyhow.
But- he was into getting out of here with Ringo as soon as possible before John kept talking. Which was the perfect incentive to push his nerves away for a bit.
“WELL- Guess will be going then! See ya fellas!” George was already walking down the steps and quickly leading Ringo away before those two ruined the date before it even starts.
“You better have him home at a respectable time young man!!!” John yelled out after them which made George cringe. Gosh those two I swear-
George ran a hand up his hair. “Sorry about them, they’re a piece of work.”
Ringo snickered, “Funny though, don’t worry, bet they pick on ya’ too much huh?”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
George and Ringo were walking down Grosse Freiheit, opposite corner from the KaiserKeller where they worked and typically spent their time. George hadn’t explored much of this side of town, but it seemed Ringo knew where they were going, so he didn’t mind it.
It was nearly 3 in the afternoon, so most places had slow business. Once it neared about 5, that’s when most of the sailor, drunkards, and “fast women” slipped out for the nightlife. Despite the occasional peek of a prostitute in the day, most afternoons were strangely quiet considering this was a red light district.
When George arrived in Hamburg, the idea of living in such loose city, with so much sex and alcohol seemed exciting, but other than the advantage of drinking, George wasn’t too into the easy sex. John and Paul tried to set him up once, but he ended up horrified, having not been with a women and being pretty certain he was gay at that point. That only solidified it. He ended up sending her away, she didn’t seem to bothered by it. Probably just looked like a spooked young boy.
Paul stuck around to apologize about it. Make sure he was okay. If anything George was almost happy to know he didn’t fancy girls. John and Paul were always so defensive about it, but when George was having thoughts like that- it felt comforting to know his friends were the same way. That they could understand.
George saw Ringo veering toward the right. They must be close. The walkway was definitely in more uncharted territory, but- a little more secluded. Ringo reached out his hand suddenly, and George hesitated. Sure there wasn’t anyone around, and the area didn’t persecute lads holding hands, but- it was still out in public, and George didn’t quite feel comfortable for that just yet.
Ringo’s smile softened and he lowered his hand into his trouser pocket. “No worries Georgie, the place is right back here, follow me.”
George walked with Ringo down a narrow alleyway leading to a wooden doorway on the side of the building. Already regretting not taking Ringo’s hand, but certainly thankful Richie wasn’t offended by his apprehension.
A quick knock on the door, and it was soon opened up by another fellow. Clean looking boy with rosy cheeks and a slender chin, about Paul’s age or older maybe.
“Afternoon Richard, back again so soon?” The boy smiled, clearly pleased to see Richard here. Where- wherever they were. George felt his arms tense, hoping he wasn’t already feeling jealousy on the date that’s barely started. “Where’s your tall friend?” He continued, while giving George a disappointed side glare.
“Afternoon! Awe this isn’t much his scene really, he’s more interested in birds.” Ringo looked past the boy, and pointed over his shoulder to a booth past the bar-room.
“Mind if we have a seat over that way?” Before the boy could give answer Ringo was already sliding through the doorway with George in tow.
Now standing inside, George could really get a load of the place. It was definitely a bar, but why it was so hidden away was beyond him. It played great music out of some speakers, which seemed to be connected to the local radio. It was pretty full too, especially for this hour, but no one seemed to be very rowdy, mostly just dancing or a having a nice drink.
One thing that did catch Georges eye was the clientele. Every person inside was a bloke. Not a single girl in sight.
“Ringo? Is- is this a gay bar?”
Ringo stopped in front of the booth and looked back at George shyly.
“I- yes, it’s pretty classy, but I wasn’t sure, you know? If you’d been to one before.” George tilted his head, in all honesty he had never seen one before now. It just seemed like they were myths considering how well hidden they were. Not to mention John, Paul, and George never played in gar bars, or expressed interest in one before. Though, Ringo’s logic made sense, why not go to a place that’s guaranteed to be safe for a first date. Not having to watch your back if he wanted to hold Ringo’s hand or maybe share a kiss.
“I’m… I haven't, but I really like it here, seems like a perfect first date spot to me.” George smiled, sliding into the booth.
The date started out really great. Ringo was even more adorable on dates. He ordered them both some drinks and they sipped away talking. It felt like they spoke for hours on end. Ringo was so fun to talk to, he was cute and much more cheeky than expected. He had the cutest little blush when George decided to move over to Ringo’s side and sit beside him in the booth. Letting his shoulder graze next to each other.
The topic of how they ended up in Hamburg came up, and George talked about meeting John and Paul, and about how they let him join the band. The band that feels like his family, like he was always meant to be apart of them. He told Ringo stories and pranks they all pulled on each other, and about how he practically had to knock sense into them both about their feelings for each other.
“They were fighting like mad all the time. Mostly John, pushing Paul away n’stuff.”
Ringo listened attentively, “You could tell? That they were… pushing each other?”
“Definitely, those two were inseparable, and the way John looked at Paul and the way Paul looked at John- you knew. I knew for sure. John had hurt Paul real bad one day, said he didn’t need him around anymore. Paul was devastated. I had to talk with John and get it sorted out.”
“How’d that go?”
“Basically told him to get his shit together and tell Paul how he felt. Honestly, I’m surprised the bastard listened.” George laughed letting his little pointed teeth stick out a tad.
“So… how long have you known… you um.. fancied...” Ringo paused, trying to find the right words for the question, but George had a feeling he knew.
“A couple years now… I had a couple girlfriends back in Liverpool, but it never really took. I knew I fancied boys, but I didn’t know for sure if I fancied girls too or not. Nowadays, I know I’m gay, but I’ve-” George paused feeling embarrassment flush on his face. He almost wanted to end the conversation there, hoping Ringo wouldn't push him further, but the look in those blue eyes. The soft, sweet way Ringo listened and gazed back at George. Like he was savoring everything, every look and word George gave him.
George wasn’t afraid, no, not around Ringo.
“I-um… I haven’t had a boyfriend before.”
George felt his hand shake at his sides, feeling unsure… clearly Ringo had been around more often, he was older after all, and knew about gay bars, probably had a boyfriend once or twice too. George didn’t know this stuff, he’d only ever kissed a boy once and neither spoke about it after the fact. Would Ringo want some inexperienced lad who-
George felt a sudden warmth interlock with his shaking fingertips. He moved his gaze back to Ringo. He was holding onto his hands, rubbing his thumb over each knuckle. Smoothing the tremor that left the joint until they were steady and calm.
I might faint.
“Hey, neither have I okay? I’m still new to this too, but I know I like you George. A lot.”
George blinked wildly. Ringo was new to this?
Ringo could see George’s confusion considering their current place of establishment and chuckled. “I’ve known I am for awhile, me mum even had an idea about it when I was younger, she could just tell I never fancied girls, but finding fellas ain’t easy and not exactly safe. So no, I haven’t either. Did find this place with me mate Johnny though, but he’s just a best mate, doesn’t really swing that way.”
Somehow knowing dates and boyfriends were a bit of new territory for Ringo brought George lots of comfort. He could feel his shoulders slack under his jacket. He wanted to loosen up, really just enjoy the date. Show Ringo a good time.
Hurriedly, George stood up from the booth pulling Ringo up with him. The radio had several patrons out of their seats and swinging to a solid tune. A jazzy one, clearly hitting the backbeat like a rock n’ roller. George gave Ritchie a cocky grin and twisted his arm around giving Ringo a spin. George did little kicks and fancy moves with his feet, while Ringo showed off his funny little moves on the dance floor as well. Being honest, Ringo’s dances were outright ridiculous, but- in an endearing kind of way. He was silly and smiling so wide. Really enjoying himself when he danced with George and purposely tried to make him laugh with funky jumps and head shakes. George loved how funny Ringo was, the way he could just go along with things and make it 10 times better? The way his smile peeked out when those teddy boy curls bounced on his forehead, George was ready to spend the rest of the night like this. Giggling like school boys.
As it got later, the dancing got a little too crowded for both the boys’ taste, and they decided to step out for the night. The walk was much longer going back, probably because the two weren’t quite ready for the date to be over just yet.
“You really do look handsome this evening George.” Ringo remarked as they walked the chilly street back to the cinema.
George grinned with his cheeky fangs and bumped Ringo with his arm. “How bout’ a kiss then? Paul worked real hard to get me all dressed up like this. Got to have a little credit where credits due.” George leaned into the lads shoulder, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect.
Ringo applauded the flirtation, clearly George was getting more comfortable. Very coy.
“Sorry, I don’t kiss vamps on the first date.”He quipped, poking the side of George’s cheek playfully.
Had this not been their first date George would have half a mind to marry Ringo on the spot. The way they bounced off each other so easily was unbelievable. The only fault was that the date was ending so soon. The streets here are just so complicated and… adult. Nothing simple, like burger joints or parks. George hated the idea of only being able to go out in the afternoons. Nightlife here was just so loud and indecent. “Gosh, maybe one of these days we can catch a bus out of here, go somewhere a little more normal.” George said gazing out ahead at countless street lights that dawned every corner.
Ringo’s eyes widened. “You want to go out again then?”
George felt his throat shrink. Oh fuck- You idiot. He was already daydreaming about the next date without even knowing if there was going to BE ONE.
“If- you wanted. I thought- I mean. This one seemed to be going really well, but if your not interested I completely-” stop rambling please oh god please stop.
“George!” George thanked Ringo internally for stopping him before he dug his grave even further.
“I’d love to go on another date with you.’
George thought he was going to say something, but his brain decided to go out of commission in that moment. Ringo didn’t seem to mind, the look on George’s face told him everything he needed to know. This was special. This thing between them, very special.
It was quiet on the streets surprisingly. Not a prostitute or drunk in sight near the back of the cinema. It was nearly 9:30, which was hopefully “respectable” for John, but George wasn’t ready for it to be over, not just yet.
George stopped before the steps to the door and turned to Ringo. His nerves that had been present throughout the evening had vanished, something about how he was feeling, the look in Ringo’s eyes. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. So welcoming, and vibrant. How could he stand here and not be utterly at peace?
Ringo soon moved surprisingly close him. George wasn’t sure what it meant at first, but to be fair, there were lots of things that George didn’t know.
He didn’t know his lovestruck crush would stand before him tonight and gingerly touch his cheek, or that he’d get so close they’d share a cold breath in a Hamburg alleyway. George would never have thought months ago, when he first met the boy, that he too would lean into the embrace. That George would get to wrap his arms around Ringo’s waist, slipping past his jacket and rest his palms on the small of the drummer’s back. He didn’t know that they’d glace down to those soft lips. Unconsciously waiting… for what? He wasn’t quite sure. Yes, he was.
Ringo’s hand gilded behind his neck. Stroking his thumb gently under George’s jaw. George felt a shiver go up his spine. Feeling his heart pounding like crazy. He wanted this. He really did. All night he dreamt of the event that occurred that night, about the feeling of kissing Ringo, the way his lips felt on his. He was so close to that again, only this time, he wanted Ringo to kiss him.
The drummer hesitated. They had kissed before, but the fervor in the air that filled the non existent space between them was thick. Both of the boys breaths were seen in the cold air as they exchanged them. Ringo lids fluttered, and George let his own shut. Darkness allowing every touch and caress to feel all the more real. Abruptly, a hand tugged the collar of his leather jacket slightly, and he was pulled into those lips again. Both bodies immediately reacting as the two shared an earnest kiss. Ringo taking control with impelling affection.
It was delightful but chaste, far too short for the guitarist’s liking. When they separated a moment, George barely gave Ringo time to catch his breath before pressing forward and allowing his tongue to slide past his lips. His fleeting impulse crashed into Ringo, and his hands clenched at the fabric of his striped shirt. Ringo responded with matched eagerness and the two were soon both kissing with more passion than they’d ever felt before. George even let a soft moan slide past his lips as he felt Ringo tangle his fingers further into his hair.
Neither wanted to stop, but George’s head was already getting dizzy and Ringo’s footing was starting to give way on the edge of the steps. They both reluctantly separated, and caught their breaths still not bearing any space between them, chests heaving with cold air against one another. George just wanted to stay here with Ringo in his arms, barely able to stand and looking just as dazed as George probably does.
“Gee Ringo…” George’s lip twitch upward. “I thought you didn’t kiss vamps on the first date.”
Chapter 3 here!
#the beatles#beatles fanfiction#George Harrison#Ringo Starr#starrison#starrison fic#McLennon#beatles fic#paul mccartney#John Lennon#hamburg#blisters on his fingers#rory storm and the hurricanes
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Blundering Fools
As Tony watched Scott snore quietly on the couch, he wondered why he hadn't bothered to revert the common room a few floors below into something else. The team never used it. They always hung out on the family floor, so the common room was just collecting dust at this point. Maybe he could make it into some extra living space? The tower was filling up, and Tony already had to stick Quill with Scott when the space pirate arrived just a few months ago. To his luck, the two got along fantastically and Quill probably wouldn't need his own floor. Scott had an extra room anyway.
The space pirate himself steps off the elevator when it arrives and he strides over to Scott and drops a bag of fast food onto the sleeping man's stomach. Scott jolts out of his nap at the sudden disturbance, and he rubs the sleep from his eyes as Quill moves his feet just enough to sit down. Tony watches in surprise when Scott puts his socked feet in Quill's lap and fishes his French fries out of the bag as the other man changes the channel on the tv. It was like they had skipped dating and went straight to being married, but they didn't even know they were in a relationship. Which they weren't, but they might as well be.
Stephen steps up next to Tony and watches the duo on the couch for a few moments before glancing over at his husband. "Are they dating?" He asks quietly so Quill and Scott don't hear him.
"Uh...no. I think they skipped straight to marriage." Tony half jokes.
The sorcerer chuckles. "If I didn't know any better, I might have believed you." He walks over to the stove to start heating up some water.
"I almost can't believe they're this oblivious. Even Cap noticed."
"Ignorance is bliss I suppose."
Stephen makes his tea and both he and Tony join the other two in the living room, Stephen with a crossword puzzle, and Tony with his tablet. His attention was split in between it and the tv though. Neither Scott nor Quill moved when the married couple joined them, but Scott did eventually sit up with only a couple inches separating him from Quill when he discovered eating a hamburger while laying down was a little hard. It was Quill's next move that almost had Tony and Stephen groaning in frustration though. He picked up one of the sodas and took a sip from the straw and immediately furrowed his brows before holding it over to the ex-criminal.
"Hey Scotty. I think I grabbed yours by mistake."
What Scott did next wasn't much better. He had taken the offered soda and also took a sip from the straw.
"Mmm...yeah. This is mine. Here." He grabs the other cup off the coffee table and hands it to Quill. It took a couple of seconds for him to notice that Tony and Stephen were staring at them in bewilderment. "What?"
Tony clears his throat. "Just surprised to see you drinking something other than juice." He lies easily.
Scott snorts. "I do like variety here and there."
"Could have fooled me."
All but Stephen return their attention to the show playing on the television, and the sorcerer takes a sip of his tea as he fills in an answer.
"I think he's gay." Quill says as he motions to the show.
"No. Not him. He's got a wife and kids." Scott replies.
"Really? Man. I'm usually pretty good at noticing things like that."
Stephen chokes on his tea and Tony bursts into laughter. These two had to be yanking their chain. Maybe they were secretly dating and were trying to see how long they could have fun with it, but when Stephen recovered and looked over at the pair, he was met with an incredulous look. So they were serious. Their entire relationship was painful to watch but at the same time, everyone found it hilarious. The rest of the team made bets on how long it would take them to figure it out, but it still looked like it would be a while yet. If ever.
"It uh...went down the wrong pipe." Stephen explains lamely and the other two shrug and go back to watching tv. Completely ignoring Tony who was only now calming down from his fit of giggles.
Like all moments of peace though, it had to end. Alarms blared through the tower, and all four men snap their heads up or to attention from their activities.
"Another alien attack Boss." FRIDAY tells him through the speakers.
Tony groans. "Seriously? Do they not know we killed Thanos? You would think that would scare everything away forever."
"Spiderman is already on the scene."
"What?!" Both Stephen and Tony shout. "He should be at school right now!" The sorcerer adds as he stands and Levi settles on his shoulders.
"Yell at him when we get there." Tony says as he stands and activates his suit. "Porcupine and Thumbelina, suit up. FRIDAY let the others know and have them meet us."
"Right away." She responds.
Tony and Stephen step through a portal that the doctor opens and it closes behind them just as Tony steps in front of Stephen. His suit forms a shield on his arm and blocks the laser pulse aiming for the sorcerer and he shoots the alien with his own repulsor beam before looking back at his lover.
"Honey, do me a favor and wear your suit."
"I always do." Stephen responds fondly as he taps his bracelet and his suit covers him.
A small group of aliens approach them, and just as the pair ready their attacks, a car comes flying out of the sky and it crushes the aliens beneath it. They look up to find the one responsible for throwing the vehicle and find Peter in his suit, crouching on top of a streetlamp. The teen perks up when Stephen sighs heavily over the comm, but then flinches at the sorcerer's next words.
"Peter Benjamin Stark-Strange!"
"What did I do?!"
"Why aren't you in class?"
"Oh! The school was evacuated so I'm not missing anything." He webs a few more approaching aliens against a nearby building. "I got separated from Harley though."
Tony flies off to help set up a perimeter and Stephen and Peter deal with the aliens as the rest of the team arrive to help. Quill was the first to arrive, and he had taken out one of the enemies trying to sneak up on Stephen, and to the doctor's very brief confusion, the space pirate seemingly flicked his own shoulder. Then he realized he was flicking Scott toward an enemy. The ex-con grew to normal size to punch an unsuspecting alien, and the battle continued with more of the Avengers joining them. All but Bruce that is. They tried to keep him ready for possible injured friends that Stephen would portal to him, and if they were too injured to move, the sorcerer would stabilize them first before sending them to Bruce.
But then a large flying creature, much like the ones from the Chitauri invasion and the battle with Thanos, showed up and Stephen could hear Tony's breath hitch over the comm. Nobody liked those things and this monster wasn't any better. There was only one person who could deal with that thing.
"Stuart Little. You seeing what I'm seeing?" The engineer asks as he has FRIDAY scan for possible weak points, but she gave him a negative.
Scott kicks away an alien and backs up until his back is flush with Quill's and looks up. "Man, can we have one battle where I don't have to personally hulk out?"
"Apparently not. You're up Thumbelina...and keep it in the Hudson!"
Quill looks over his shoulder after shooting a couple of aliens. "He wants you to deal with that thing? Am I missing something?"
"Make room Spaceman."
"Room for what?!"
Scott rolls his eyes and presses a button on his suit and Quill stumbles back when the ex-criminal grows to over sixty feet and punches the flying creature into the Hudson River before following it. The pirate recovers from his shock just in time to duck a blast to his head and he takes out the creatures swarming him as he keeps one eye on his floormate. Scott was wrestling with the large flying alien until it thrashed around and sent them both under the water with a large splash. Long seconds pass and when the water partially settles, Steve speaks over comm.
"He's not coming back up!"
"Growing like that puts stress on his body! That combined with the limited air supply his helmet has-" Stephen starts, but he stops when Quill flies out from the aliens surrounding him, barely glancing back to throw a grenade in the center of the circle.
It explodes and kills all of the aliens as he flies toward the river, and the outlaw doesn't hesitate to activate his helmet before diving into the water. Using his jet boots he swims down to the obvious giant figure of Scott and presses the button he knew would shrink the man back to normal size. Once Scott is at a movable size again, Quill grabs the unconscious man and swims back up to the surface, where he pulls Scott back onto land.
He kneels next to Scott and presses another button to remove his helmet and gently smacks his cheek. "Come on Scotty. It'll be really lame to be the only member of the Pining Club."
Antman coughs and turns on his side to spit out the water and then groans tiredly. "The Pining Club is lame no matter how many members are in it."
Quill grins. "Try not to remind me." The grin slowly falls away and his hands hover over Scott's body as he looks for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
"Don't think so." Scott mumbles tiredly. "Gonna rest my eyes for a couple of seconds."
Then he was asleep. Actually, it was more like he passed out, but now Quill had to protect him from some aliens that noticed the two stragglers. He didn't have much room to maneuver because he wouldn't step too far away from Scott's prone form, so instead he planted a foot on either side of his floormate and shot the aliens. At least in this position, they couldn't get to Scott as easily.
"Guys! Scotty is down and I've got a few of these assholes coming after us!" Quill informs the team.
An arrow pierces through the head of an alien behind the space outlaw. "I've got your six Quill."
Quill shoots a few more aliens and then grabs a loose piece of rebar nearby when an alien throws a grenade at him. He hits the grenade back toward the alien and blows it up as well as its allies and Clint laughs.
"Damn Quill! You gave a whole new meaning to a grand slam!"
"These chucklefucks have no idea who they're messing with." Starlord growls.
"An angry lover?" The archer says and Quill looks up in Clint's direction on a nearby building.
"What?"
"What?" Barton repeats innocently.
The battle ends after another half hour when Thor summons lightning to kill off the remaining aliens, and Quill bends down from his position over Scott to check the still unconscious man for wounds again. Stephen soon joins him and checks Scott's pulse before turning to open a portal to Scott's floor at the tower.
"He needs rest. Clint, come help-"
"It's okay." Quill interrupts. "I got him." He moves to one side of Scott and lifts the man into his arms before walking through the portal with Stephen.
The doctor moves ahead of him to open the door to Scott's room and when Quill steps in and manages to lay the ex-criminal on his bed, Stephen motions toward the sleeping man.
"Help me get his suit off."
Quill's eyes widen. "Wait, what?"
"He wears it over his clothes." Stephen assures as he starts to remove Scott's suit, and Quill helps him.
"Damn, he's dead to the world."
"That's what happens if he stays in his giant form too long."
"I didn't know he can do that."
Stephen raises an eyebrow when he looks up at him. "He did it in the battle against Thanos."
"Guess I missed it."
They pull back the covers, properly place them over Scott, and then leave the room to go up to the family floor after some reassurance from Stephen that his floormate will be okay by himself. Once they reach the penthouse, Stephen rushes forward when they find Harley sitting at the kitchen table and holding an ice pack to his temple. While the sorcerer fussed over the small cuts littered over the teen's body, Quill returned to his previously vacated spot on the couch and Tony and Peter were some of the first to get back.
"Harley! I'm so sorry! I couldn't find you-" Peter rambles and the older teen waves his hand at the younger.
"It's fine. Don't freak out."
Tony disengages his suit and joins Stephen. "What happened?"
"Just got hit with some shrapnel. It's not that big of a deal." Harley says with a heavy sigh. "Stephen already took care of it."
The doctor nods. "He's alright Tony. Just some scratches."
The engineer grumbles and rubs his eyes tiredly. "Getting real sick of alien invasions."
Quill laughs half-heartedly from the living room. "Sounds like a regular Wednesday afternoon."
It seemed to be true, too. Hardly anyone blinked at the mention of an alien invasion or Hydra crawling out of the cracks like roaches. They just dealt with it and came back home for a well deserved dinner, or even lunch if they took care of the crisis fast enough. Which was exactly what happened as soon as Bucky made it back. They all had an after battle routine. Check to make sure any injured were alright, then head up to the penthouse for food, rest, and sometimes even a movie to wind down and lick their wounds.
With Wanda's help, Bucky made dinner for everyone and they all ate throughout the floor, and even Scott had managed to join them. Of course, he was still exhausted and it took him a little effort to stay awake, but he got his food and subconsciously sat next to Quill and ate. There were a couple of times Scott almost passed out into his food, but both Quill and Natasha kept him awake long enough to finish his dinner. After that, the space pirate had to help the ex-criminal back down to their floor since he was stumbling, and when the elevator doors closed behind them, Clint groaned. Loudly.
"Can we intervene yet?"
Sam scowls. "No way. I've got money sitting on another month."
"You didn't see Quill standing possessively over Scott."
"Really?" Natasha asks with a bit of surprise. "Maybe he'll figure it out first."
"You know...even though he has a Master's degree in electrical engineering, Scott can be really dumb." Peter says and Cassie nods beside him.
"I kind of have to agree...and I live on the floor with them."
Harley takes the biscuit out of Peter's hand when the younger teen picks it up. "Brain smart and street smart are different things."
Sam snorts. "This is a whole different type of smart and Tic-tac is on the stupid end of the scale."
"They both are." Rhodey adds in agreement.
Tony laughs. "One more month. Then we can talk about a subtle intervention."
"Subtle will take forever, love." Stephen chuckles.
"Very true. We'll just throw them in a closet and be done with it."
"That just takes the fun out of it." Harley mutters.
The time was agreed on though. One more month of watching Quill and Scott unknowingly flirt with each other, and then they would talk about what to do next if the morons didn't connect the dots.
The Avengers were turning into matchmakers.
#ironstrange#supremefamily#mama bear stephen strange#peter parker#tony stark#stephen strange#scott lang#harley keener#sam wilson#clint barton#peter quill#james rhodes#natasha romanov#steve rogers#antlord
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The Dynamic Duo
Characters: MC, Gavin, Minor, Victor (Mentions: Anna and Willow)
Words: 1903
Warnings: Minor threats
Part Three: Respect
Parting from the boys just moments ago, you didn’t know what to expect … Being honest to yourself you knew you had to get it over with. Gavin and Minor gave you a pep talk before entering the building, telling you to keep your cool and call them later. Grateful was the very least you felt for those two guys, especially Minor lately. He was really stepping up in and around the company.
You entered the elevator of LFG, every time you’ve ever been in here seemed like a life time to get to where you needed, tonight though felt the fastest its ever gone. All but dragging your feet towards Victors office, scarcely anyone was left in the enterprise... Checking your watch, nearly 9pm. Gosh, usually you were home in your pyjamas by now, instead you’re standing infront of Victors door. Holding your breath, you knock...
tap - tap - tap
“Come in”
Pressing down the handle you enter slowly, Victor still staring at the file in hand waves you forward. You approach cautiously, considering how things were earlier you decided to wait until he spoke to you.
Just standing there…
Minutes went by before Victor set down his file, looking to you, “Well, I suppose if you’re not going to talk then ill start. Today’s events were chaotic, unacceptable, and unprofessional. For that, I’m Sorry.”
It hadn’t quite registered with you yet, blankly staring at Victor.
He raises his brow, “It seems perhaps an apology isn’t enough to excuse myself for earlier, I’ll buy dinner. Have you eaten? Right before i forget, your subordinate, what’s his name? The one who clearly doesn’t care if he still has a job tomorrow?” Victor asks nonchalantly.
Speechless, you just sort of shook your head at him. You envisioned this conversation to go quite the opposite direction, this moment of reprieve swelled up something from deep within.
“You’re angry with me, right? I jumped to conclusions and…”
“Stop.” Finally speaking… “I don’t want your apology.”
Victor’s eyes widened.
“You ridiculed me in-front of my staff and guests, you didn’t even try to understand the situation I was in. I came here terrified of what was going to unfold but none the less ready for it… And y-you act as if nothing has happened? I don’t want dinner with you, what I want is ……. I want respect.” The tears that threatened you today were back again, this time falling down your face.
It was obvious seeing you cry unsettled Victor; he rose from his chair and in the very same moment you took a step back. Silence engulfed his office, all of today's emotions began exploding inside of you. You choked back desperately not to sob in-front of your boss, bringing your head down, you turned and started to leave.
“Mc...” The moment Victor opened his mouth, your feet took off on their own accord.
You managed to get inside the elevator moments before he did, doors closing on the sight of him reaching out to you. “Wait!?”
.
After the doors shut, you immediately pull out your phone and sent a text to Victor - Please excuse me, I’m exhausted, lets reschedule - *Thinking, I was just demanding respect then ran away like a child. *
Stopping the elevator couple floors from the lobby, taking the stairs the rest of the way down, the objective was to avoid Victor. You were NOT ready for this, you felt compromised with emotions. Peaking around the corner, it seemed safe and you made quick steps to the exit.
.
.
Meanwhile, Victor just stared at the text he received. Sitting on the floor of the second elevator, seeing you cry was like a blow to his heart. Once today you teared up in front of him, he took it too far then before your employee stepped in …
Perhaps that’s why…
It was rare for Victor to feel remorseful.
.
.
Gavin was just picking up take out when he got the call from you. Instantly taking to air when he heard your shaky voice, when he landed again it was only couple yards from where you stood. He could see that you were crying, “Didn’t go so well did it?” Wiping the remanent of what tears that still stained your cheeks.
“I didn’t stay calm Gavin, maybe I am not cut out to do this.” Avoiding eye contact, you stared at your feet. You called him to talk, not expecting him minutes later to be right there. Typical Gavin you thought, smiling inwards at the thought.
In that moment you were embraced into warm arms and a solid chest, “I don’t know a thing about producing but your amazing Mc, truly. You’ve never been a quitter, so don’t give up now.” His voice was soft like faux fur.
Your senses were heightened, you felt extremely warm, and smelled - noodles?? This caused your stomach to growl loudly. Staring doe eyed at Gavin when he released you.
Laughing, “Hungry huh? Good thing I always pick up food for two then.” Showing you the take out bag.
.
.
Next day, you woke up and started getting ready. This afternoon you had a meeting scheduled with Barner Wors heads, trying to figure out compensation for both sides during this halt. Gavin was going to continue his investigation with Minor, today Minor was off. You asked Minor last night to assist him, which he was more then thrilled to help ‘his boy’ on his day off.
.
.
When Gavin awoke from his little cat nap (sleep was something he barely got these days) he was receiving a call from the department. The call was brief, files were being emailed to him whilst he took the call, turns out his intuition was paying off. Just as he was reading through Nicole Kissman’s file, his phone began to ring again - Minor. He wanted to decline the call but considering that you seemed at peace with Minor helping him, he notioned; keeping Minor close may help in some way.
“Hey”
“GAVVVVVVVV- BRO, Chris – The lead for the show is in hospital! I just got a text from my friend, whose cousin texted her, whose roommate called him, that apparently spotted Mr. Heartthrob being taken in by ambulance!” Minor screaming into Gavin’s ear.
“And??”
“AND!! I decided to come to the hospital to check myself, AND INDEED HE’S HERE! Now I came incognito and decided to snoop around, there saying food poisoning. Now I’m no expert but! I did some digging on Chris; he’s a vegan, man don’t eat no meat, however! I was able to get hold of his papers by the desk and get this, his co star the one and only Madam Kissman stated after eating a hamburger he just got sick. Now correct me if I’m wrong but, he’s a vegan and food poisoning doesn’t take affect that quickly!” Minor was practically gasping for air after that explanation.
Silence followed, the only thing heard was Minor dying on one end and Gavin letting out a slight hmmm on the other.
“Nice one Minor, get out of there and meet me out front.” Gavin hung up the phone, the plot was thickening. If his police training and investigation films taught him anything, it was actors will sometimes do whatever it takes to shine.
.
.
You were just entering your company doors when Anna frantically came running to you with news, about the actor Chris.
Food poisoning, oh dear…
This joint production really was becoming a series of unfortunate events, you thought. Then Anna handed you a letter, normally you had a team that look after this sort of stuff. After examining the front of the envelop you knew why. In big black bold letters ‘TO BE HANDLED BY MC’, okay? You made your way to your office quickly running Anna up to speed of everything and having her make notes for preparations of this afternoons meeting. Sitting in your desk mid-sentence; you froze, you had opened the envelope and glanced at the contents inside…
Images of your outside apartment caught you off guard. Anna noticed something the matter so she peaks over and was too shocked by the findings. Your hands began to shake as you flipped through the photos, one photo in particular had writing on the back of it.
It read….
We know where you live. If you love your job, and do not want more ‘unfortunate’ things to happen and ruin your ‘reputation’ - drop the case.
Or else.
The picture after the note was an image of your company, completely scribbled out. So much that the pen used left deep in-grooves and in some areas punctured right through. A shiver went straight up your spine, Anna spoke up, “this isn’t just a coincidence anymore. Someone is playing seriously dirty...”
All you could do is nod your head…
What do you do?
You stared at Anna, neither of you spoke, till Willow burst through the doors.
“Victor is downstairs!!!”
The day was just beginning and already you wanted to go home. You sent Gavin a quick text ‘SOS office ASAP’ and stood up. Fixing your skirt, you took a deep breath; tucking the photos away in your top drawer. You raised your chin up, and made your way to meet Victor. Considering your demand for respect yesterday, you had to be respectful.
You had a lot of crap on your plate, and Victor was one of them.
.
.
Gavin arrived at the hospital and seen Minor, oh dear god is that what he meant by ‘incognito’ he wondered.
Minor stood at the bottom of the entrance stairs leaning against the rail. He was wearing a backwards pink hat and dark sunglasses. If that wasn’t enough, he had on the biggest yellow sweater I swear he could find; that read ‘Bronies’ on the front of it. The tightest white jeans known to man, and a tooth pick sticking out of his mouth. Gavin was stunned stupid; Minor was one to easily annoy him back in school, and even now he still had that gift.
“Minor…. You have about three seconds to sort yourself out, before I knock you out!”
Minor didn’t notice when Gavin appeared, nearly falling over at his aggressive demeaner. “Bro, respect! It’s my disguise yo, can’t have people snitchin’ who I am. Don’t need boss stressin’ even more if my covers blown yo!”
Gavin rubbed his temples, reminding himself, ‘don’t hit him, don’t hit him’ before speaking. “First off, I’m not your ‘bro’. Secondly, stop talking like that. Third, you look like a walking highlighter. You’re not blending in; you stick out like a sore thumb. If I didn’t know you, and I saw someone dressed like you; snooping round my hospital.. Attention is exactly what you’re going to get and not in the good way!”
“Alright, alright, alright…. Man can’t a bro catch a break, I’m trying here!” Minor takes off the sunglasses and fixes the hat.
“Minor, the more you try the worse you get. Just relax, or it’ll be you next; checking in.” Gavin signals Minor to walk with him as he enters the hospital doors. Before pointing out, “and for the record, stealing other people’s information in the hospital is invasion of privacy. That’s breaking the law, you could be done for that.”
Minor grins at Gavin, “Yea but, I was incognito. No one knows it was me!”
It took everything in Gavin not to knock him out at this point, they’re both trying to help MC he repeated again and again...
To Be Continued
Master-list for Parts
#mr love queen's choice#mr love gavin#mr love victor#mr love minor#mlqc#mlqc victor#mlqc gavin#mlqc minor#dynamic duo#walking highlighter#incognito#respect#minor just wants love#hes trying#part three#love and producer
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skinny dipping
in which luke, the captain of the swim team and the boy who holds your heart, offers to work with you to prepare for swim season. antics ensue.
request: “hi okay so i really feel awkward requesting smut but like,,, ur writing is so good so like could u write shower sex w luke? tysm!” ps dont feel awkward i love u sorry this is so late and also got......a lil crazy
warning: another luke smut? truly just self indulgence if im being 100% honest, some hella lax choking, light dirty talk, technically public sex
a/n: someone tell me to stop writing for luke thanks. as always, feedback is very much appreciated :-) <3
When you get out of the lap pool, all your muscles are loose and weak. The chlorine has settled in your hair and its distinct scent surrounds you as your tired legs carry you to your towel; you drop into a chair as soon as you reach one, ignoring the cold metal beneath your legs as you delight in the relaxation. Your breathing is hard and your heart is pounding as you gulp as much water as possible from your water bottle. All summer you had meant to make it to the pool, you honestly had. But you had been so preoccupied with cutting a million things off your bucket list before school started that you just forgot.
You felt that regret now, wishing you had just gone a couple times a month. That would have saved you the next three days of sore muscles. Your knees are already beginning to bruise from neglecting the stairs out of the pool by pulling yourself up from the edge. When you try to run a hand through your hair, your fingers get caught in the knots created by the chlorine; you groan, not even close to ready to brush it out later. For now, you pull it into a scrunchie high on the crown of your head while you bask in your dread. You’re standing up when the door to the pool opens; it surprises you enough to make you jump, your tired muscles clenching in fright. You had made it a point to wake up early enough to get to the pool and finish well before the kids and their babysitters started pouring in. When you look at your phone, it’s only 7:15. You look up to meet eyes with a tall, grinning blonde.
“(Y/N)!” He exclaims, making you smile back widely.
“Hi, Luke!” You greet, wrapping your arms around his warm, bare torso when he pulls you in for a hug.
Luke was a senior this year, and captain of the swim team. The two of you had gotten pretty close last year as he had always volunteered to drive the underclassmen home in the minivan he had inherited from his mother. You had almost exclusively gotten the front seat, and you were always last to be dropped off which inevitably led to the two of you gossiping about the other people on the team. Luke had most definitely made your transition into high school much more comfortable, and you always made sure to let him know.
“You excited for swim to start?” He asks, and you glare at him with playful eyes.
“Take another look at me and ask that question again.” You deadpan. He giggles, his eyes bright and you can’t help but let loose a smile. “What about you?”
“Of course.” His voice is light as he sets his things on the bench next to you. You can’t help but watch as the muscles of his shoulders ripple and you avert your eyes quickly.
It was no secret to your friends that you had a big schoolgirl crush on Luke. The close friendship the two of you shared had tricked your heart into developing feelings for him and as much as you tried to deny it, you really did adore Luke with everything in you.
“I should’ve kept up on workouts this summer.” You scold yourself to him and he shrugs.
“I only started a few weeks ago. The season doesn’t technically start for another two months, and we don’t start practices for another month.” You stare at him and he laughs again, shaking his head. “You have time. And if you need motivation, we can work out together.” He suggests.
You struggle to keep the grin off your face as you give him a casual smile. “Yeah, that sounds good. When do you usually come?”
“Just around this time on Mondays and Thursdays. I’ll text you on Thursday and I’ll just pick you up on my way here. Sound good?”
You nod as your lips quirk up. You stand, grabbing your keys and your swim bag, bidding him a quick farewell and turning your back to him so he couldn’t see the face-splitting grin you were sporting.
Despite your sore muscles, you felt better that day than you had all summer.
Thursday morning, you’ve gone through all the possible scenarios in your head. You aren’t anxious, because you’re already close to Luke, but you are excited. So excited that you can’t sit down. Your swim bag has been unpacked and repacked enough times that you could take a mental inventory. You’re just putting on a loose shirt over your shorts and swimsuit when your phone chimes.
Luke: I’m outside :-)
You slide your jandals on and grab your bag and water bottle from your bed before rushing to the front door. You close it behind you, allowing the late summer air of the early morning wash over you. You turn to face Luke’s car, which had been replaced and was no longer a minivan.
A sleek black car sits in your driveway and your narrow your eyes in confusion, but your pace stays constant when you see Luke’s smiling face in the driver’s side.
“New wheels?” The words have fallen from your lips as soon as you’re settled in the soft leather seats. Despite how early it is, the air conditioner is blasting and a Hippo Campus song is pouring lowly from the speakers.
He chuckles softly, shrugging. “Been saving up for a few years and the minivan died, so there was no better time.”
He pulls out of the driveway and you look over at him, watching carefully as he taps his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the music. The car smells of leather and chlorine from yours and Luke’s duffel bags by your feet and in the backseat, respectively. You smile softly at him and turn away, looking out the window.
In an unfairly short amount of time, you’re parked in the parking lot of the indoor pool and you’re stepping through the doors, the humidity already hitting you. Luke smiles at the girl standing behind the counter, a girl you recognize as the teacher’s aide for your biology class last year. You think she’s in Luke’s grade, and you think you catch her with a disdainful look when she sees you behind the tall blonde. You smile at her anyway and walk through the doors leading to the locker rooms and the water. The two of you skip past the lockers and walk straight for the pool.
There’s music playing over the speakers, echoing around the room and suddenly, you’re nervous. You don’t understand why, because you’d swam with Luke a hundred times before, but for some reason, things were different now.
It’s almost two full hours before the two of you are ready to call it good. You’re sore, but not nearly as sore as you were on Monday. Luke’s giggling at you as you struggle to get out of the water, your aversion to ladders still very much apparent.
“C’mere.” He chuckles, moving toward you and outstretching a hand. You grip it tightly with both hands and he uses his other hand to grip your own forearm. With a foot as high on the wall as you can get it, Luke’s body pulls back and you’re suddenly out of the water, your feet on the slick ground as the tall blonde before you allowed his hand to fall from your arm to your back to ensure your stability.
Whatever snicker was once floating through the air from either of you had disappeared as you looked up at him, his hand firmly against the small of your back holding you to him as you gripped his hand in both of yours. He takes a deep breath, and suddenly both of your hands are off of him and he’s taking a step back. You allow yourself to laugh in order to lighten the mood, walking carefully to where your bags sat.
“Are you gonna shower, or do you just want to dip?” You ask, grabbing your towel and wiping off your face.
Against Luke’s better judgment, he decides to go straight home. You both towel off, pulling your clothes back on, pushing away the slight awkwardness by throwing jokes back at one another. By the time you get back to his car, the two of you are back to normal and you’re careful to keep your wet hair from dripping on his nice leather seats. The ride to your house is full of music and jokes and laughs. When he pulls into your driveway, he puts his car in park and turns to look at you.
“Do you want to you go out? Like on a date?”
You’re shocked at his words, and in a rare moment of bravery, you look at him with wide eyes. “Are you telling me this wasn’t a date?” You tease, making him groan. “Yes, Luke. I would love to go on a date with you.”
“Great. Is Saturday okay?” He asks, and you nod, a large smile on your face.
You lean across the center console and press a chaste kiss to his cheek before hopping out, swiftly making your way to the front door and letting yourself inside. With pink cheeks and a squeal, you can’t help but immediately begin planning.
“This isn’t lame, is it?” Luke’s voice breaks through the low chatter of silverware against ceramic plates and talks in the diner. You laugh softly and shake your head, the air conditioning blasting through the restaurant despite the fact that the sun was down.
“No, I love it here. You know that.” You assure the blonde boy sitting across from you. Maddy’s was a cute little diner that had been settled early in the sixties just down the street from your neighborhood. It was always packed full of teenagers, as it was the only restaurant in town that was cheap enough to go regularly and open 24 hours a day. You adored Maddy’s, and Luke was well aware.
“I wanted to take you somewhere new, but I forgot to make reservations somewhere.” He says bashfully. It’s rare for Luke to look so shy, and it almost takes you off guard. Almost. You smile softly at him from across the table.
“This is perfect.” You say. He grins.
The smell of hamburgers and fries arises quickly as Hallie, a sweet girl in the grade between yours and Luke’s brings your food to the table. “Alright, guys, is there anything else I can get for you?” She asks, and Luke shakes his head with a friendly smile.
“No, thank you, Hallie.” He says warmly. You watch Hallie fight the blush that takes over her cheeks as she nods and walks away. You look at him in awe and he looks back at you in confusion. “What?”
“How the hell do you do that?’ You inquire, and he furrows his brows.
“Do what?” He retorts, grabbing a few fries from the overflowing basket before him. You roll your eyes.
“Get every single girl you talk to fall at your feet.” You say, causing him to scoff loudly.
“I don’t.” He says, and you laugh sarcastically.
“You’re kidding. All you had to do was smile at Hallie to make her blush, and I’m pretty sure the girl at the pool wants to hang me by my ankles every time she sees us together. Every girl that’s ever laid eyes on you is automatically entranced, follows your every move right on your heels.” You say, picking at your own food.
“Not every girl.” He says. You look up at him, seeing a small smile play on his lips.
“Maybe some of us are resistant to your charm.” You tease. Luke chuckles, shaking his head.
“Have I told you just how gorgeous you look tonight?” He says, a smirk tugging at his lips as you kick his leg softly under the table.
“Laying in on a little thick there, Hemmings,” You giggle. “but thank you.” Luke catches one of your legs between his, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles sweetly and picks up his food.
The two of you remained in the diner for several more hours, giggling loudly and playfully teasing one another. By the time you leave, Maddy’s is nearly empty. The only booth left, a group of boys, whoop loudly at the two of you as you step out the door and Luke glares hard at them, but you can’t help the soft laugh that falls from your lips.
The walk back to your house envelops the two of you in a warm breeze. Your arm brushes Luke’s every once in a while as the two of you speak softly. The walk to your house isn’t nearly long enough, and when the two of you are standing under your porch light, Luke pretends that he doesn’t realize how warm it is, his large hands rubbing your bare arms. “We should do this again.” He says. You smile up at him and nod. His eyes flicker to your lips, before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. You raise up on your toes, gripping the tee shirt at his waist while one of his hands fell to your hip and the other to your lower back. You moan softly as Luke pulls you into him, parting your lips slightly to allow him access.
He pulls away a few seconds later, his breathing slightly heavier than normal. “So, we’re still on for Monday?” He jokes. You laugh softly, resting your forehead on his chest.
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before hopping down the stairs, sending a soft smile over his shoulder before making his way home.
You smile gently, letting yourself inside and ignoring your heavily beating heart.
When you wake on Monday, you get ready a little too quickly. You’re excited to see Luke after your date on Saturday, more excited than you are nervous. The part of your subconscious that doesn’t want you to be happy makes you worry that Luke has realized that you’re too immature for him, or not pretty enough, or generally not interesting enough.
You choose to ignore that part of your brain.
It isn’t long before Luke’s name pops up on your phone to inform you that he’s parked out front, so you grab your swim bag from the foot of your bed and rush outside to see him. The sun shines in your eyes and reflects off of the black car in your driveway, so you squint on your way to your seat.
“Good morning,” he sing-songs, and you smile sweetly at him.
“Good morning.” You mimic him. He chuckles softly, allowing his hand to fall to your thigh as he reverses out of your driveway.
“Are you ready for training today?” He asks, and you roll your eyes, your hand moving to rest on top of his.
“I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me.” You laugh, and he shakes his head.
“Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because I think you’re cute,” he teases, and you ignore the blush raising up your neck. “I let you off easy on Thursday because it was your first workout with me, but today we’re working hard.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You assure him.
Less than half an hour later, you’ve sprawled yourself across the cement next to the pool, Luke staring at you from the water.
“Remember how confident you were that you could handle this?” He teases, and you move your head to glare at him.
“Fuck off.” You groan. He laughs.
“You calling it quits?” He asks you.
“God, yes. Put me out of my misery.” You whimper. You aren’t usually one to admit defeat, but you can barely breath. Luke pulls himself out of the pool and you watch him, blushing at the sight of his strong arms lifting him out of the water. He stands above you and you stare up at him, lazily reaching your hand out to him. He chuckles softly, gripping your hand and pulling you up as well. His hand rests on your hip, pulling you into him, much like Saturday night.
“Hello.” He teases, and you groan again, resting your head against his chest and sighing, allowing your breathing to slow.
“Why do you hate me?” You ask him sarcastically. He laughs loudly, hugging you close to him. Your arms wrap around him.
“I don’t hate you, I adore you.” He says, rubbing your back. “How ‘bout we go out to breakfast?” He suggests. You lean back, your arms still around one another as you stare up at him.
“Can I shower first? I smell like chlorine.” You say, and he scoffs with a smile.
“Yeah, we’ll shower.” He says with a nod, leaning down to your height. You grin, stepping up on your toes to press your lips to his. His tongue immediately runs along your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth. You, of course, indulge him and part your lips, his tongue running across the roof of your mouth. You shudder against him, and in turn, feel how excited he’s gotten. He moans softly into your mouth and your hands grip his back, your fervor increasing. He pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his head against your own. “We’d better get going.” He says, and you nod.
Letting go of him, the two of you walk closely together until you get to the adjacent doors of the two locker rooms. “I shouldn’t be long, maybe ten minutes?” You say, and he nods swiftly, carefully trying to conceal his hard-on. You turn on your heel, walking quickly into the locker room behind you.
You’re only slightly overwhelmed because now you know that Luke is as attracted to you as you are to him. Also, because you know that less than twenty feet from you, he’s just as turned on as you are.
In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, you turn around and walk confidently into the men’s locker room across the hall. “Luke?” You call out, already hearing the running water.
“(Y/N)?” He asks, and at the sound of his voice, all confidence that had filled you just seconds before has been lost as quickly as it had come across you as you blanch. This is weird, it’s so weird, and you’re embarrassed.
“I-um...I think I forgot m-my soap, so...do you have any extra, maybe?” It’s a poor excuse, and you know it before it even falls from your lips.
Luke laughs. He already knows. “C’mere.” He says, soft but demanding. You listen to him, walking timidly to the running shower. The air is steamy and you’re acutely aware of his swimsuit draped over the bench near his bag. With a quick glance to the clock, ensuring it was still far too early for any of the usuals to come, you reach his shower. His eyes lock on you immediately, his hand reaching out for you. You take a step forward, bringing yourself into reaching distance as he grips your hip and presses you against him. While you had avoided looking at his lower half when you stepped into the shower, you know now that you didn’t need to. You can feel him pressing against you. “Now, what’re you doing in here?” He asks, his voice significantly lower now than it had been before.
“Um...I don’t know, I guess. Looking for you.” You’re much shyer than you felt was appropriate, considering the two of you were one layer away from being completely bare against one another.
His fingers play with the zipper on your suit, looking to you for permission. You nod softly, staring up at him as he unzips it, pulling the straps off your shoulders. “Looking for me, huh?” He looks up just before your suit uncovers your breasts and closes the curtain behind him. He looks back to you with a sweet smile, the change in his demeanor sudden. His hands return to the top of your suit and, with one more look for the go-ahead, he pulls it down to your waist. His hands immediately move to your chest, leaning down to attach his lips to your exposed decolletage. He pushes the rest of your suit down and when you kick it off, he bends down, grabbing it from around your ankles and hanging it on the hook across from you.
You giggle at his care for your swimsuit and he smiles at you, before kneeling again and kissing up your leg. Whatever laugh was left on your lips is immediately cut off by the deep breath you take. His hands hold your hips tightly as his lips move right up to the crux of your thighs before moving to the bottom of your other leg. You can’t do anything to slow your heavy breathing as you watch him, your hand reaching down to wrap into his hair. He looks up to you, sees the desperation on your face, and smirks. His hand hooks around your ankle and throws your leg over his shoulder, leaving you exposed to him. He hums softly, before leaning forward and licking a thick stripe up your slit. You moan loudly and he leans back to look up at you. “Baby, you’ve got to be quiet.” He insists, and you nod with a lip between your teeth. He resumes, taking another long swipe over you slit before wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking softly. He moans against you and grips your hip firmly.
Your hand flies to your face to cover your mouth. “Oh, my god,” you murmured. The hand still curled in his hair tugs lightly to get his attention. He pulls away and you remove your leg from over his shoulder, pulling him up to stand before you. He licks his lips before he presses them to yours, the taste of yourself still lingering. His lean body presses you against the wall. Your hand reaches between your bodies, finding his cock and wrapping your hand around him. He gasps against your mouth as you lazily stroke him. You shudder at the size of him in your hand, breaking the kiss to look down at where you’re holding him. You moan outright at the sight of it, as does he. He kisses you chastely again before gripping your wrist and pulling your hand off of him. “I want to fuck you.”
Too turned on to say give a proper response, you say, “I’m on the pill.”
Luke silently thanks god. You thank your dermatologist.
His hand grips your thigh, hooking your leg around his hips. “Y’want me to fuck you?” He murmurs.
His words shock you and it’s all you can do not burst into tears. You nod fervently, “Please. Please, Luke.” Your hips move toward him, causing him to chuckle. His hips meet yours, rubbing himself against you without slipping inside. You whimper, both of your hands gripping his biceps.
“C’mon, pretty girl, can I hear you say it?” He asks, his voice sweet, a stark contrast against the way his cock is slipping through your folds.
“I want you to fuck me, Luke. Please.” You moan. The desperation in your voice is clear and he moans, gripping himself and pushing in.
Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, both of your faces screwed up in pleasure as he gives you a moment to adjust to him. As soon as he draws his hips back, you realize you’ve only felt half of him inside you and you whimper again, pulling him close to you. He pushes in again, settling fully inside of you. You moan loudly, biting your lips as Luke’s hand immediately covers your mouth. He begins to thrust, setting a steady pace. Your nails continue to dig into his shoulders as his dig into your hips, holding you in place with his free hand as he thrusts into you. The hand covering your mouth slips down to wrap gently around your throat and you have to force yourself to keep quiet. “Faster, Luke. Please.” You beg, one of your hands reaching to grip the wrist resting on your chest.
He complies, drawing his hips back and pounding into you. All you can hear is running water and Luke’s skin slapping against yours, and all you can feel is Luke slamming into you. The hand holding your hip moves to your clit, the speed and strength of his hips not subsiding. His fingertips rub your clit firmly as he leans in to speak to you.
You’re embarrassingly close for how short the two of you have been going, and the sound of his voice only brings you closer to the brink of your orgasm. “S’that feel good? You like when I fuck you like that?” He asks heavily, panting in your ear.
“Yes, Luke, fuck,” You moan, pulling him closer to you as you moan into his shoulder.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He moans, and if you weren’t so close to coming that you were almost hysterical, you’d giggle at how vocal he is.
“Oh, my god. I’m close, Luke, please,” You’re babbling, but seeing him begin to lose control shows you that he’s close too. He hums, adding more pressure to your clit and attaching his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder, and this is exactly what pushes you over the edge.
Your brows furrow and your head tilts back against the wall behind you as your orgasm washes over you. You walls clench around Luke and his hips stutter. “Oh, fuck, (Y/N),” he groans against your neck as you trigger his orgasm. The fingers wrapped around your neck tighten slightly as he comes in you, a loud moan falling from his lips. Your own hand covers his mouth, causing you to giggle softly as he twitches against you. “Jesus Christ.” He says softly. He pulls out and you drop your leg, allowing your body to rest against the wall behind you. Both of you are breathing heavily but this doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your lips, pulling you close to him. “Are you good?” He asks after he pulls away, and you can’t help but smile at him.
“Absolutely.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. The two of you stand under the running water for only a minute or two before Luke breaks the silence.
“So...breakfast?”
#luke#luke hemmings#luke hemmings imagine#luke hemmings imagines#luke hemmings smut#luke hemmings x reader#5sos#5sos imagines#5sos imagine#5sos smut#5 seconds of summer#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer imagine#5 seconds of summer smut
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