#so whether that person was being serious or not they should probably reconsider what they say online | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teasty · 3 years

Text

kiss yourself (03) || h.js

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au || college!au || non!idol au

● words: 10.4k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: a lot happens in this chapter,, it's pretty fast paced but it is what it is ~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | CHAPTER THREE

“I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

You refused to cry, no matter how bad you wanted to.

You didn’t actually head back to the dorm, deciding you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep fast enough and that you simply wanted to have the comfort of being alone for the time being. You’re so fed up, so irritated and stressed, not even Jisung fucking you over and over again until you’re too weak to even speak could fix it. Neither did you feel like dealing with Jeongja, so you headed straight for the 24/7 cafe a few blocks away from the school. You didn’t go there often, but you went there a few times with Jisung in the mornings. You weren’t as familiar with the place like he was, but you knew for a fact that it was open all day, every week day.

There was only one other person in the cafe. A young, tired looking woman who typed vigorously on her laptop, which was plugged into the wall along with her phone, which she listened to whatever on. She must be a college student, since she had a backpack at her feet and a lanyard hanging from her pocket. You didn’t recognize her, so she was probably your senior. She gave you a subtle glance before turning back to her laptop, and you ignored her. Walking (more limping) up to the cashier.

“Welcome. It’s pretty late,” said a man who didn’t seem too young, but nor too old. Probably in his mid - twenties. He had a small stubble on his chin and his longish hair is tied back, a few rebellious strands framing his decently structured face. You could make out his toned chest and broad shoulders underneath the beige button up he wore, a dusty pink apron around his waist, accompanied by a pair of black slacks. He’s attractive, you couldn’t deny. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for a pretty little lady like you to be walking around, alone, in a tee shirt?”

“I’m fine on my own,” you admit, “I’ve been here a few times, but I can’t remember the menu. Mind handing me one?” The man nods, reaching over something to grab a one sided menu, and he hands it to you. After glancing over it, you felt too nauseous to eat, but you needed caffeine, something to keep you going since sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you tonight. “Can I just get an americano? Make it large, please, I need it.”

“Oh, coffee at this hour?” He chuckles.

“This is a coffee shop,” you glance around, a little agitated.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man laughs out, waving a hand as he pressed a few buttons on the cash register, “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. Is that all you want? An americano, large?”

“No, get me the green tea, too,” you sigh, placing down the menu. It’s not like you to get bitter drinks, let alone two. You’re actually more of a sweets kind of person. But, since you’re not feeling too well, you just want hot, bitter drinks to keep you from going insane.

The man nods, “Hmm, tough night?” You nod slowly, “Surprised you came to a coffee shop. Most people who have rough nights usually hang around at the bar down the road. What made you come here of all places?”

“Well, it’s the first place I thought of,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t want a hangover in the morning either. I always know how those go. Never had the best luck when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, smiling wistfully for a moment before it turns into a bitter frown at the thought of your vague first time with Jisung. You shake your head slowly, subtly. It wasn’t a mistake. Not at all. It wasn’t bad luck. But, right now, it kind of feels like it. You’ve gotten more attached to Jisung than you have the years before you both started fucking around. “Plus, my friend used to bring me here. Thought I’d see the place alone.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping by,” the man smiles down at you, and you give him a brief one back, “What’s your name? What should I put as the name, sorry.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you grumble out your name.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. My parents just aren’t born here,” you respond, having gotten the question hundreds of times in the past.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N),” the man smiles, and you chuckle softly as he rings up the order, “My name is Jeongguk. I assume you go to the college down the road?” Jeongguk asks as you sit on one of the stools at the counter. You sigh, your shoulders dropping as you nod slowly. Watching as Jeongguk prepares the americano. “Ah, I used to go there. I already graduated.”

“What was your major?” You ask curiously.

“I was a fine arts major. I only have my undergrad, but I’m saving up to go back and get my masters,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh,” your eyes brighten, intrigued by the sudden conversation, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’ll you do with your masters once you get it?”

Jeongguk sighs, his head tilting slightly as he focuses his eyes on the drink in his hand, perfecting it, “I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot of things I could do. I could just work under a company to make things for ‘em, like designs and shit like that. But, I’m more into painting. Heh, but there’s not much painting can get for you nowadays. I haven’t seen many jobs that take in painters, so I’m reconsidering whether or not painting should be my go - to.”

“Right,” you nod, completely understanding, “It’s an amazing skill to have, though. You could probably start up on social media and sell your works worldwide.”

“Social media’s never been my forte, but it’s a thought,” Jeongguk passes you the americano, and you don’t hesitate to take a sip of the hot drinking, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. But, you soon get used to it. “What’s your major?”

“Political science,” you chuckle.

“Oh - ho! We got a smarty - pants over here, now don’t we?” Jeongguk jokes as he grabs a white, bulky mug from a shelf. You chuckle, a bit flusters. Already feeling better from this conversation with him, “The only person I knew in political science was Chris! You know Chan? Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, he’s on my committee, we’re friends,” you shrug a shoulder.

“Nice. Let him know I said hi, won’t you?” You nod quickly, taking another sip of the coffee, “Is it as much work as they say?”

“Well, with this dumb team I was pressured into, yeah, it’s a lot more than most other people with different majors seem to have,” you answer, and Jeongguk nods slowly, listening intently as he puts a kettle filled with water on a small stovetop. He then turns to you and leans against the bar table separating you both, “It’s fine, though. I’m just doing it to get a job so I can provide myself with enough money to get what I need and a bit more to have what I want. People in that field get lots of money, you know?”

“Yeah, just depends on what you decide to be,” Jeongguk nods.

“I guess you’re right,” you nod slowly, “I’m most likely to graduate with my bachelors, but I’m gonna take law so I can be a lawyer. Either tort or criminal, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, those are tricky fields in law, aren’t they,” Jeongguk chuckles, and you nod slowly, “Well, I wish you the best of luck. By the way, when did you and Chris become friends? I’ve been friends with him for a few years, now, and I don’t recall him being with you.”

“Oh, I only befriended him at the beginning of the year,” you say, and Jeongguk nods, “I went to a party with my friend and met him there. We’re also on the same committee for planning for the school, so we got pretty close.”

“You mean the huge party right before school started up, don’t you?” You nod slowly, “Mm. I know just what party you’re talking about. I think I might’ve seen you. You looked familiar when you walked in, so it’d make sense. Let me guess, were you with one of Chris’s buds? I forget his name, but I think his family name is Han, right?”

Your eyes instantly roll, and you nod, “Yeah. Han Jisung. I went with him.”

“Ouch, what a reaction,” Jeongguk laughs, noting your eyes which rolled sassily, “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s a long story.” You admit. It’s not too long, actually. It could be simplified, but you didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

“I have time,” Jeongguk says, smiling brightly.

You raise a brow, “So do I, and I’m going to spend it drinking my coffee.” Jeongguk raises his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” And finally, Jeongguk finished your tea and gave it to you.

You both talked for the remainder of the night (well, morning) until the sun came up. You had about five coffees, trying different kinds that Jeongguk suggested, and another green tea with honey in it. You learned that Jeongguk graduated early, mostly since he didn’t have enough money, but he was also ahead of the rest of the year by a long run, so he privately graduated. He didn’t start working at the coffee shop until a few months ago, and works the night shift and was the only one there. Apparently, no one usually came in during his shift except for travellers passing by or the tired college students, which were more likely to come by and study.

You didn’t even notice it was morning until Jeongguk’s face illuminated with the sunlight over the city’s buildings. You both traded numbers, and you promised to come again during his shift on his days. He said he’d text you, but you weren’t too sure he would. You were at least thankful to not be totally alone that night, since part of you knew that Jisung was going to get to your head, and you’d be either upset or angry. Jeongguk was able to rid your mind of him, even if only for those five or so hours you sat there, talking to him.

But, once you walked into your dorm to change into a quick pair of different clothes, all you could think about is Jisung. Debating your feelings.

You, however, constantly repeated to yourself that you didn’t even like him like that. He’s only a friend. Only a friend. Have it be with or without benefits, he’s only a friend.

You decided to just wear a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie, not caring much for your appearance. Although there’s tons of caffeine running through your system, you were still exhausted from the lack of sleep, and your mood had been dropped. You knew there was probably going to be another meeting today with Chunae, but you couldn’t be too sure. You didn’t get any work done last night (obviously), and you don’t know whether or not you’ll hear it from her or not, whether or not she’ll pull you out of class again for a meeting you could care less about.

You didn’t see Jisung for the first few hours of school, per usual. He didn’t try texting you nor calling you, which you were a bit skeptical about, but you tried to ignore it. You’re supposed to be agitated with him. And, you are. You still cared for him, and you still miss him despite it being only one night. But, then again, he probably didn’t miss you the way you missed him.

He would miss you, sure. But he wouldn’t miss the way you kiss him, right? He wouldn’t miss the way you hold him. The way you love him.

But, you’re not in love with him.

You can’t be.

You did see Chris, though. He actually walked up to you during passing hall and pulled you aside, against a wall. He wore a concerned, tired look as he folded his arms. Staring down at you, and rose a brow. It was silent for a moment until you emit a low, “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Jisung?” Christopher says sternly, and your blood runs cold right then and there. Your eyes widen and your brows raise as you stare up at him. Did he know? You’re too scared to answer.

“What… do you mean?” You utter out.

“Jisung called me last night asking if you were at my dorm last night at, like, midnight. Woke me up when I should’ve gotten sleep…” Christopher grumbles, rubbing his temple, “He said he thought you would have run off to my place. Didn’t say shit as to why, though. Didn’t say a damn thing. The boy even asked me to go to your dorm to see if you were there, but no one answered. I figured you were asleep. I just need to know why Jisung had to call me at fucking midnight ‘cause of you.” Christopher’s Australian accent slips into his Korean, which means he’s probably both irritated and tired.

“Oh… I’m sorry. No, I was out at some coffee shop until, like, five in the morning last night,” You answer truthfully, and Christopher sighs, “Oh, and by the way. I talked to Jeongguk there. He said hello.”

“Really, now? Jeon Jeongguk?” Christopher asks, and you shrug a shoulder, “Well, I appreciate it. Tell the guy I miss him. But, that’s not the point. At this point, I’m kind of concerned. I went over my conversation with Jisung last night all morning and yet I can’t find a single reason why you would be running to my dorm like he thought or why he didn’t go see you himself. Did he do something wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong. I’m just upset about it,” you answer, and Christopher nods slowly.

“Do you mind telling me what that is? If you do, it’s a possibility I can help,” Christopher suggests, but you smile and slowly shake your head.

“It’s not something you can help with this time, Chan,” You sigh, “It’s a bit too personal.”

“Okay, now I’m really concerned. I might have been Jisung’s friend longer, but I care about you, too, (Y/N). Please tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s happening between the two of you. And if it’s really that personal, I promise on my life not to tell anybody,” Christopher says.

You sigh and look around before grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him away to somewhere more private. He didn’t argue, but he seemed a bit surprised at how quickly you acted. You pulled him out to the courtyard, not caring much for being tardy, anymore. Your heart thumped in your chest. The rules vividly recite themselves in your mind; “No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.”

Well, here goes one rule flushed down the toilet.

Once you stopped, Christopher shoves his hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders at you, “Okay, now what is it?”

You shake your head slightly, debating whether or not to tell him. If Jisung found out, it’d be the death of you. But, you don’t know if you should be excited about that or scared. You’re not sure how he’d react to such news from Christopher.

You know what, fuck it, you thought to yourself.

“Well?”

“We’ve been fucking since the party,” you blurt out, and Christopher’s brows raise in shock. At both the news and how flat toned and blunt you were being. “I got a bit too tipsy and we ended up having sex. We made specific rules, which is so dumb of me to say since one of them is to literally tell nobody. Which means you can’t tell anyone and you can’t let Jisung know that you know this or he will kill me, Chan. Kill me, got it? Whatever, it… he and I had a bit of a fight after doing it last night.”

“But why?” Christopher carefully asks.

“Because he’s after a girl. A girl I’m not too fond of,” you admit.

“Chunae, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You raise a brow, glad he isn’t overreacting to your confession to sleeping around with Jisung.

“Let’s just say that he’s been flirting with her every chance he gets,” Christopher admits, and you sigh softly, looking down in disappointment, but trying your hardest not to make it too obvious about how upset you were, “They share some classes, and he’s apparently been talking to her every chance he gets. Not to mention, Chunae seemed pretty into him, too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you sigh, tiredness suddenly coming over you, as well as exhaustion, “We fought about it, but I’m the one in the wrong. He has every right to like someone and want to date someone. But… I dunno.”

“Do you love him?” Christopher asks slowly, and you take a seat at the nearest bench, Christopher following behind you and sitting next to you.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully in a small voice, “I really don’t know. One part of me misses him so much whenever I’m without him. One part of me loves him, but the other part just tells me that he’s only my friend and nothing more. But, yeah. He wanted me to stay the night at his dorm, but I didn’t since he only had me over and treated me well because he’s going to cut things off soon.”

“Do you want him to cut things off?”

“No!” You yell, a little too upset with the situation, and Christopher breaths in through his nose. You cover your face with his hands, slightly muffled by your hands, “I don’t! But he says that we will, and I-” you don’t bother to look up, cutting yourself off before you start crying out of nowhere. Your head hurt from the lack of sleep, but your eyes hurt from the need and resistance to cry.

Christopher placed a warm hand on your back, and you breath slowly.

“I don’t want him to leave me, Chris… I really don’t,” you shake your head slightly. Christopher’s hand massages your back and shoulders reassuringly. His warm hand giving you the reassurance you needed.

“I know, (Y/N), I know. It’s alright,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug. You don’t resist it. In fact, you lift yourself up to let your hands grip onto his shirt to hug him tightly, “If you’ll like, I can talk to Jisung. I won’t tell him that I know about the… benefits… but, I’ll let him know that you just don’t feel comfortable about his relationship with Chunae, alright? How does that sound?” Christopher’s voice is sweet and soft, calming you from your growing tears.

“That sounds perfect, Channie… thank you,” you whisper softly, your head burrowed in his chest.

It’s weird being held by another man. Another man that isn’t Han Jisung. It’s nice, especially since Christopher has such a loving and gentle personality. His hands hug you without any awkwardness, and it’s nice that someone other than Jisung can hug you without being uncomfortable.

But, your comfort was soon taken away when Christopher let’s go of you and shifts in his seat. You look up, and you see someone familiar walking towards you both. At first, your tears — blurred eyes make it impossible to see who it is, but once your eyes are cleared, Han Jisung’s perfect face comes into view. His face is stoic, his lips down turned in a subtle frown. His eyes are focused on you, and you stand up in your spot, clutching your backpack to get ready to leave.

“Don’t you dare move, (Y/N),” Jisung yells loudly, and you freeze at the spot. Christopher’s eyes widening from how aggressive Jisung sounded. Once he’s directly in front of you, he finally looks over to Christopher, and steps towards him, “I asked you to check up on her, Chan. Not do whatever the fuck you guys were doing just now.”

“What, comforting her?” Christopher stands his ground, standing up despite them both being the same height, “Something you should have been doing instead of me?”

Your hand clamps over your mouth. Jisung’s brows furrow, and his fists clench, but he doesn’t do anything, “I asked you a simple favor. To check up on her for me.”

“And that’s what I was doing,” Christopher defends himself, and you watch curiously. Neither of them spare you a glance, both staring at each other, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Jisung. But, it’s not my place to take care of her in… your situation.” Christopher looks Jisung up and down, and Jisung wears a disgusted look on his face. “I only asked what the fuck you did for you to think she was running off to me. ‘Cause, she was actually at the fucking coffee shop all damn morning talking to Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk?” Jisung’s brows furrow, and he looks over to you briefly. You slowly nod, “Did you sleep at all last night?” You slowly shook your head, and Jisung groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. He turns back to Christopher, “Can you leave, Chan? I need to talk to her.”

Christopher looks past Jisung to you, and you shake your head slowly. Somewhat afraid of being alone with Jisung just for what you will talk about. However, Christopher gives you an apologetic look before turning back to Jisung, “Fine. Call me later (Y/N). If you don’t, I’m stopping by your dorm to check up on you.”

“Alright… Bye, Chan…” You mumble loudly back, and Christopher gives Jisung a subtle glance before grabbing his things and walking away.

You sat back down, half expecting Jisung to do the same. But, no, he stood in front of you. Towering over you as you stared at your feet. His hands stuff themselves into his hoodie’s pockets, and there’s a tense silence.

“Jisung…”

“Why did you run off like that last night, (Y/N)?” Jisung immediately cuts you off, and you can’t find yourself having the courage to look him in the eyes. You felt embarrassed for yourself, but you had to stay and talk to him. You don’t know how to answer. You don’t have a straight answer in your tired mind. “Answer me, (Y/N). We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep quiet.”

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you breathe out, gripping the bench below you, “I… Was just irritated.”

“Why?” Jisung crouches down so you can’t avoid his eyes. Unlike how you thought, Jisung’s eyes were more concerned than angry, like you thought they’d be. His hand escapes his pocket to rest on your knee, “I knew you weren’t irritated. You were just fine before I started talking about Chunae.”

Caught red handed. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, and your lips purse, trying your hardest to find an answer.

“I don’t know, Jisung. I really don’t,” you whisper to him pitifully, and Jisung shakes his head.

“No… No, I know you know the answer, (Y/N). I can make everything better if you just talked to me,” Jisung says in a voice you rarely heard. He’s usually joking around or simply has such an upbeat attitude. It’s so rare to see Jisung this serious, it almost makes you want to cry by how it affects you so. The way his voice lowers, relaxing and calming, yet stern. The way his eyes weren’t bright or happy, but not cold or angry.

It was almost scary.

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with me,” you try to chuckle bitterly, dodging his stare. But, his head moves with yours, and his hand that rests on your knee rises to firmly cup your cheek, turning your head to look directly at him with no exceptions.

“Because there is. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jisung answers.

“Jisung,” your voice hardens, your heartbeat rising as Jisung’s words tug and pull at your heart, “I need to get to class. I’m already very late.”

“No, you’re staying here until we figure this out,” Jisung’s other hand grips your wrist, tugging at it, even though you never moved to get up in the first place. He seemed on edge, and took a brief glance behind him before turning back to you, “You’re my best friend for life, (Y/N). You know that. I care so much for you, and if there’s something wrong with my decisions, then I need you to tell me.”

“I…” your eyes close for a minute, nibbling on your bottom lip before looking up at him, “I don’t want you to cut things off between us, Jisung. I want to keep doing this… whatever this is. It makes me happy, Jisung.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...” Jisung sighs softly, his head dipping for a moment before he looks up at you with a pitiful smile, “Is that why you were mad last night?”

“So what if it is? You won’t do anything about it,” you answer, and Jisung’s brows furrow, “Even if I begged on my knees for you to keep doing this with me, you’d still reject me, wouldn’t you?”

“I — (Y/N), you know that I—“

“Wouldn’t you?” You cut him off, your glossy eyes boring into his. His hand falls from your face, resting on your thigh, and he squeezes it slightly.

“It depends…” Jisung answers truthfully, “On what I’m rejecting you for.” Your frown deepens, upset with his answer. Even so, you would’ve been upset if he said no. “If it’s for something stupid, like someone told me to stop or I had moral changes, hell no. But if it were for something like… like Chunae and I… then yes.”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at him, blinking every so often to try and keep away the growing tears. He would choose Chunae over you. Of course. You should have known. Everyone loved Chunae. Chunae deserved everyone’s love for how pretty, smart and proper she is. Of course Han Jisung would reject the sassy, immature and lazy (Y/N) (L/N) for a perfect woman like Chunae. You’re not a perfect woman. Not at all.

Not for Han Jisung.

It was then, at that moment of thoughts of Chunae and Jisung running through your head that you came to a sudden realization as you stared into Jisung’s worried eyes.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love with Han Jisung. Your best friend.

“Get away from me,” you mumble.

“What…?” Jisung’s brows furrow.

“I said get away from me,” your broken voice whimpers out, “You make everything so much harder for me. Everything…” You shove away his hands and stand up, but Jisung is quick to scramble up and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his face burrows into your neck.

Your heart burns badly. It’s painful, too painful. You feel as though you’re going to collapse from how painful it is.

“Don’t go, yet. Please. You’re confusing me, (Y/N),” Jisung whispers into your neck, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine.

“No. I said get away from me,” you try and push him away, scooping your arms under his to try and push him away. But, Jisung is oddly persistent.

But, you eventually get away, grabbing your things and dashing off.

“No, (Y/N), wait! Please!” Jisung yells after you, but you're already to the building doors, throwing yourself into the building and dashing to the girl’s bathroom to recollect yourself.

And, thankfully, it’s empty. You throw your backpack down and lean against the sink. Finally, you let the tears fall. They fell down your cheeks fast and hot, the aching feeling of relief in your mind allowing you to breath slowly as the tears dripped mercilessly down your face, showing no signs of stopping.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you cried. You were quiet. Making no sound other than sniffling here and there. You don’t even try to wipe away the tears that stain your face, too bothered and eager to cry to do so. Your eyes grow red and big, your cheeks reddening from the tears and your heart aching badly in your chest.

Once the thought of being in love with Han Jisung enters your mind, you look away from yourself. Your head falling, and you grip your hair. Shaking your head in your arms, Letting out muffled, “No, no, no!”s as you started to weakly, softly sob. Your body trembles with your tears.

You can’t be in love with Han Jisung. It’ll only end in your heartbreak. Jisung will cut things off immediately, and probably push you away once he finds out. You can’t for the life of you let him find out. You’re too scared to tell him yourself, so you have to keep it a secret from anyone who might be able to tell him and have him believe it. It’s too risky, so you’d have to keep this painful secret to yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to babble on and on about how much you hate this feeling and about how good he makes you feel, emotionally and physically.

You didn’t say a word to anyone after your short breakdown in the bathroom. You soon grew too tired to cry, and too stressed to go back to class, so you waited out that period before your lunch hour would come by. You didn’t know where to go. There would be girls hogging the bathroom, and hundreds of other students roaming the campus. You really didn’t want to be around people at this point, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the first place.

So, you went to the courtyard. You called Christopher, telling him about what happened, and he said he was going to be there right away and to meet him by the outdoor canteen. So, you sat at an empty table, waiting.

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, wearing a blank, stoic expression as nothing was present in your all — too tired mind. Your backpack resting against your leg as you waited.

When you hear loud footsteps coming near, you look up. Not expecting who it was at first. It’s Chunae, and she looks on edge and upset. Her perfectly tinted lips frown darkly at you, and she stops in front of you.

“And where were you last class period?” She asks, and you raise your brow, turning off your phone and resting it on the table.

“Not there? Why do you care?” You scowl back at her, staring up at her with a dark glare. However, she doesn’t seem to back down, only to get angrier.

“I was supposed to give you more papers for people to contact, as well as parents and volunteers,” she throws a stack of papers in front of you. And you gawk at it. She already gave you so much shit to do beforehand, why the hell is she giving you more? You already have enough work, she should know that. She knew as well as the rest how busy political students are. And she had the audacity to throw a stack of papers on your desk and demand you to analyze and contact each person? “I want them done by this weekend, no exceptions.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Chunae,” You scoff, smiling bitterly at her. Your own anger rising, “I already have enough shit from the other stack of documents you thrusted down my throat on top of my school work. I’m not doing all this shit in less than a week!” You nearly yell, but you don’t raise your voice too much. You thrust an angry finger at the stack.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Chunae sighs, “I’m not in the best of moods right now. I don’t want to deal with bullshit right now when we’re on a tight schedule. This event is in danger of being shut down completely if we don’t finish it soon.”

“And does it look like I give two shits?” You sarcastically smile.

“Don’t joke with me, (Y/N), and please control your language. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Oh, boo — hoo,” you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, “What do you want? A cookie?”

“Don’t, (Y/N). I swear.” Chunae vaguely threatens, and you smirk.

“You swear what?” You urge, standing up slowly. Taking a step towards her, and she takes a small one back. Her expression doesn’t change. Her dead, yet beautiful brown eyes glaring into yours, “What’ll you do? Give me more paperwork? Tell me off to Daddy? Punch my teeth in?” You glare down at her hand, cocking a snarky brow at it before glaring at her, “I’d like to see you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Like you could do any better,” Chunae snaps, and you’re surprised how she’s snapping back instead of de — escalating the situation. It makes you excited. The urge to punch her only grew, “Your words are louder than your actions, (Y/N). Don’t underestimate me.”

You laugh loudly, “Ha! That’s funny! You… scary? Hey, I give an A- for effort, how about it?” You elbow her arm jokingly before turning back to glare through the paperwork she so selfishly threw your way.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Chunae snaps.

“You forget who’s older.”

“You forget who has Han Jisung.”

You freeze. The paper falling out of your hand as you turn slowly to see a smirking Chunae. Smiling as though she killed off her worst enemy. Your mouth falls open, and you scoff.

“What… the fuck did you just say?” You grumble darkly, her hands balling into fists at your sides.

“I said… You forget who has Han Jisung,” she repeats slowly.

You had heard her loud and clear. Just like you heard Jisung when he confessed his adoration for Chunae. You were just in shock. You did not expect this out of someone like her. And, just like that, all your respect was lost for the woman. She crossed a border she could never escape. She’s crossed a line she can never retract over. She’s pushed buttons inside you that can’t be fixed.

“I dare you to say that again.” You growl through gritted teeth, and in the corners of your eyes, you can see Christopher walking up. But, a small crowd had started to watch you and Chunae. He stops by them, deciding not to intervene physically.

“(Y/N)?” Christopher yells, and you turn your head to him. “Is…” He grows silent when he sees your angry glare.

You turn back to Chunae, Christopher watching silently, prepared if anything happens. He pulls out his phone, and presses a few buttons before pressing it to his ear. Speaking to the person on the other line under his breath. You could care less, though, and you mainly focused on Chunae.

“I said I dare you to say that again!” You finally yell, and the people in the canteen grow silent. All heads turning to the both of you, and Christopher continues talking on the phone to whoever it is. Your hand flies up, gripping the hem of Chunae’s blouse. Pulling her intimidatingly close. You’re slightly taller than her, so she looked up at you.

Chunae only chuckles softly, “I have Han Jisung… He’s mine, isn’t he?”

As if on cue, your fist, knuckling white from clenching it so hard, comes into contact with Chunae’s cheek right as an out of breath Han Jisung comes running to the scene. But, you’re too busy to pay him any mind.

Of course, like you expected, Chunae flies to the ground. Immediately cupping her face and letting out a brief cry. And, just like that, you’re the bad guy. You sigh and roll your eyes. Shaking off your hand, which aches slightly from the impact on her defined cheekbone. You turn to Christopher and Jisung. Jisung stands there, staring between you and Chunae, who lay on the ground, holding her black and blue face. Christopher just gawks at you.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” Jisung yells.

“Hey, before you overreact, I can explain…”

But, you’re quickly cut off when you feel a yank at your ankle, and you let out a yelp as you get yanked down. Your body yanked down, and the top of your head slams against the table you were sitting out, letting out a loud thunk through the air. And, you can briefly see Jisung trying to run up, but Christopher holds him back briefly.

Your hand flies up to your head, dizziness overtaking you as your mind falls blank for a second. Your head begins to throb, and you hiss through your teeth. However, you’re not gifted with enough time to get over the pain like Chunae did before she towers over you. Her high heels are kicked off, and she presses the ball of her foot into your chest, forbidding airway.

You’re a little too dizzy to think, but you’re conscious enough to react. Your hand flies up on instinct, your hands gripping her ankle and twisting it with your hands, causing her to fall. Before she could have time to get back up, you climb back on top of her and straddle her stomach.

She kicked and struggled, but your hands gripped her wrists (all too familiar with this position with the help of Jisung), pinning them to the ground. Your head aches, throbbing painfully. You’re still dizzy, trying to stay conscious from both the lack of sleep and from your head hitting the table.

“Hey! Hey, calm down. Just, oh fuck, my head. Oh, my god, Chunae, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You grumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that would ease the pain. But, it doesn’t.

Jisung and Christopher eventually come over. Jisung’s arms wrap around you, just below your breasts as he pulls you off. You don’t struggle, but Chunae does. Christopher struggles pulling Chunae away, who still tries to pummel you.

She got a good hit on you. But it wasn’t really her. She just yanked your ankle, which threw your head against the table. You melted into Jisung’s arms, and he helped you to your feet carefully. Every movement made your headache worse. It blistered your head, sending shots of pain through your body. You tried your best to stay conscious, but it was a bit more difficult than one might seem. So, you focused on the way Jisung’s hands held you to try and keep you awake.

You faintly heard a teacher running over, asking about what the hell was going on. Jisung excused him, saying that there was a fight but it’s been handled and he’s taking you to the nurse’s office. So, the professor let you and Chunae go without much argument (probably not wanting to deal with something like this in the middle of the day.

But, Jisung didn’t take you to the nurse’s office. Christopher did, though, dragging a struggling Chunae away to the nurse’s office with no help. Jisung whispered incoherent words to you as one of his hands gripped your waist, the other holding your hand as you stumbled on your own two feet. Your vision blurred and your stomach erupted in pain. You had a concussion, all because Chunae as able to swipe at your ankle.

You were in too much pain to think clearly, hanging onto Jisung, “Ji… my head hurts so fuckin’ bad.” Your words are muffled by the lump in your throat that grew from the pain.

“I know, baby. She got you pretty good, didn’t she,” Jisung’s soft words seem to calm your head a bit, but it goes away the moment your foot plants on the ground to take another step, “It’s alright… I’m sure she wasn’t in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Shut up,” you grumble out, and Jisung sighs softly, squeezing your waist briefly as he walks you through a pair of doors and down a hall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Let’s not talk about Chunae right now. Let’s just get you to rest for a bit,” Jisung reassured, and you thanked whatever god is out there that he’ll shut up about Chunae.

“Where’re we goin’?” You look around, squinting through your blurred vision, as if that’d help (news flash; it didn’t).

“Back to my dorm,” Jisung answers, and you turn to him, “Jeongin isn’t back, yet, so don’t worry. Besides, we have better shit than the nurse will give you. She’ll just give you an ice pack and tell you to move on with your day, now won't she?” You think about it for a moment, although nothing goes through your mind. But, you agree with him and nod slowly.

The rest of the walk is silent. Sometimes, you’d nearly trip over your own feet, but with Jisung’s hand on your waist, he always caught you and whispered words of reassurance that never truly got all the way through your brain. Eventually though, you both made it to Jisung’s dorm. He unlocked it with one hand easily and threw the white door open. Not bothering to flick on the light before he walked in, kicking the door closed, and sat you on his bed.

Once you sat down, you felt like you’d been holding the world on your shoulders. You got a bit of relief since you weren’t moving around as much, but it still hurt like a bitch. Your head throbbed, everywhere. Your body twitched in pain. You couldn’t think straight nor could you see especially clearly, and you felt like you were about to throw up all of the coffee and tea you’d had this morning.

Jisung shuffled through one of his drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. He took his chair from his desk and rolled it in front of you, sitting on it and placing the first aid kit in his lap before opening it. “Dad always said to keep it handy. Turns out it’s finally coming to good use. I just need to see if there’s a wound on your head.”

And, so, without struggle, you lay forward, your head resting on Jisung’s knee as he gently moved your hair to the sides, looking for something. He did end up finding a bruise on the top of your head and said that it would be best to leave it alone for the time being before icing it. He gave you a few pills of over the counter medication to help ease the pain. But, he seemed a bit conflicted. It was mostly silent, you didn’t really talk since you didn’t have the strength to nor the will to. Chunae might be pretty weak, but with a blow to your head on the table like that… that’ll fuck you up real good.

Once you’re laying against his pillows, Jisung finally pipes up again.

“Come here.”

“Hmm?” You look up, and Jisung’s legs are spread slightly, one hand on his thigh as he looked over to you. His hair shadowing his eyes slightly.

“I said come here, now don’t be stubborn,” He motions you over with his hand, and you groan and squeeze your eye shut as you sit up and slide off of the bed and walk up to him. Jisung guides you around and slowly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Jisung?” You mumble softly.

“Shh… This is going to help you with the pain, baby,” Jisung whispers against your ear, and you feel his press a gentle kiss to the back of your ear. You breathe in sharply, somewhat knowing where this is going as Jisung’s hand grips at your shirt. “It’ll make your head feel so much better, baby. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”

“Mm… how would that help?” You sighed out, your head already leaning onto Jisung’s shoulder, your eyes closing in relaxation as Jisung’s hands caressed your stomach, nearing both your breasts and your womanhood, but not daring to go near just yet.

“It’ll make all your muscles relax. It’ll make you feel better,” Jisung whispers into your ear, making you shiver, “Don’t you want that? You want me to touch you, babygirl?”

You can’t think straight. All morality and logic is thrown out your mental window, so you nod quickly without thinking. One your hands swiping up to caress Jisung’s neck as he pressed a few light kisses to your ear. “Alright, (Y/N). My sweet baby. Just relax for me, alright?” The praise makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you nearly forget that he’s only your friend. Your legs spread slightly, your back pressing to his chest. Letting him hold your weight. “That’s my good girl. My perfect (Y/N).”

His. His perfect (Y/N). Those words made you happy, oh so happy. Even if a thought couldn’t bear to finish in your head, you still enjoyed such words. It’s a break from the name calling and the dirty talk. It made you feel like the only girl in the world. Like Chunae was never a part of the picture to begin with.

Jisung’s hands slowly unbutton your jeans, his lips still pressing kisses to the side of your neck and your ear. Occasionally whispering short sentences like, “Good girl… That’s right… Oh, baby…” It makes you squirm in his grasp as he undoes your jeans and pushes them off of you. You weakly lift up your hips to help him a little bit as Jisung lets your pants fall to the ground with a low thud. You press your ass against Jisung, your leg spreading a bit more at the feeling of the cold air of the dorm meeting your clothed womanhood, which got wetter by the second.

You let your head lift, resting your head against Jisung’s cheek to let it rest, but you wanted to watch his hands as they softly caressed your thighs. Sending calming chills through your legs and your gut as his warm hands touched your thighs and hips ever so intimately. You melted into his touch, your lips parting to allow your low breaths to become audible. You could feel Jisung’s breath against your ear and your neck, and your neck craned slightly to feel more of it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N), you know that?” Jisung’s low, sudden voice sent butterflies exploding in your stomach. You whimpered softly in response, not knowing how to respond to such praise, since Jisung was quite the degrader. He’d usually call you all sorts of dirty things. He’s probably taking pity on you since you’re hurt, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you feel so happy and so turned on. “My beautiful baby…” Jisung whispers, seemingly to himself as his fingers brush over your clothed cunt.

“Jisunggie… don’t talk nonsense,” you utter out, sharply gasping when you feel the base of his fingers press against your clothed labia.

“What nonsense?” Jisung chuckles deeply, his fingers rubbing slowly circles, making your eyes close in bliss and your head rest against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands gripping the arms of the desk chair as Jisung’s other hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Don’t say that it’s nonsense. You’re only lying to yourself.”

You didn’t respond, basking in the pleasure and praise as Jisung’s experienced fingers rubbed along your clothes labia. Soaking your panties through with your juices (yet another pair of perfectly good underwear ruined by Jisung), the outline of your pussy showing through and letting Jisung touch even more sensitive areas.

He goes for a while without actually touching your bare womanhood. Mainly his index and middle finger rubbing and massaging your labia and over your pussy. Jisung’s eyes focused on his hands as he worked them over you. You feel yourself relax, the pain easing from you. You forget about the headache, the dizziness. The nausea and the aching throughout your body; forgotten. All that’s on your mind is how intimately Jisung touches you. How his experienced hands move over your sensitive pussy in such a delicate, yet firm way. So gentle, yet so emphatic.

So loving, yet so bitterly resistant.

Your mind grows blank. Too caught up in the relaxing pleasure and from overcoming your concussion to think straightly. All that keeps your mind wandering is Jisung and Jisung alone. Not Christopher. Not the man, Jeongguk, that you met at the coffee shop. Not even Chunae. Only Han Jisung.

After long minutes of slowly teasing your cunt, soaking your panties with your wetness, Jisung finally bids you one good deed and taps your hip. Guiding you to raise it as he slips them off slowly. Letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor below. You step out of them. Your bottom half now completely exposed, yet you still wear all that’s on your torso. You didn’t care, though. It was better than being fully clothed, anyways.

“Oh, fuck…” Jisung breaths out in a rugged manner as his fingers slowly brush over the lips of your pussy, your sweet wetness seeping from you, already coating Jisung’s fingertips, “You’re so wet for me, baby. So wet for me. It makes me want to fuck you so hard. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You frantically nod against Jisung’s head, watching as his fingers push against your labia and against your core. Firmly pressing against your clit, and your back arches as you grind your hips on his fingers. “But, I won’t. Not yet, anyways. I’m going to make you feel better, not make you scream and give you a headache all over again.”

Jisung chuckles deeply, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke, but you didn't laugh along. He doesn’t seem to care, though, since you’re obviously so immersed in the way Jisung’s fingers rub your pussy gently. His lips part slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as his middle finger teases your entrance.

“Jisung, ahh~... Yes, please, just like that…” you whisper out in sharp breaths as Jisung slowly inserts his middle finger into you. Pumping slowly until his knuckles are pressed against your heat. “Fuck, yes… Love your fingers so much, Jisung - ah.”

“I know, baby,” Jisung tenses below you at your words, and his finger slightly curves inside you, making your leg twitch. But, his hand that caressed your thigh gripped your leg, keeping you steady on his lap. “I don’t usually get to finger you like this, do I? Letting my hands do all the work, hmm?”

No, he didn’t. But damn, you wanted him to more often. You didn’t answer, only with a delicate moan as Jisung’s middle finger slowly pumps itself in and out of you. Curving slightly every time it thrusted into you to hit that special spot. Sending chills through your torso as his finger worked inside you so well. Your walls clench around him, despite how he was going slow. It wasn’t painfully slow, but not enough to make you cum quick enough. It’s a slow burn. Slowly building up your sensitivity as his palm pressed against your clit.

“You take my fingers so well, (Y/N) - ah… You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?” Jisung comments, his voice low, yet gentle. Soft to the ear, and not as aggressive and dark as it tended to be during sex. It sent you on an overdrive. It drove you crazy by just his tone of voice. It made your heart ache and your pussy wetter and wetter. “You don’t know how hard this is for me, baby…”

Oh, you knew. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your ass. The only thing keeping you two apart was his few articles of clothing. But, no matter what he was wearing, you could still feel how he ached underneath you. You mentally applauded him, but you were too lost in the lust to actually bid him something of a congratulations for being able to hold back this long (since he was usually pretty desperate to get his dick inside you).

It’s another minute or so until Jisung pushes in another finger. Slowly stretching you out and making you moan even louder. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly inside you, hitting that special spot over and over again drove you insane. His fingers pressing against it firmly with the tips of it. Your mind hazed with lust and desire, and your craving for him grew even bigger and even more intense.

“Shit, Jisung - ah… That feels so good ~,” you moan out as you meet with Jisung’s knuckles, grinding into his fingers.

“Hmm… does it, baby? You feel good?” You nod slowly to his words, and Jisung breathily chuckles, smiling, “See? I said it would help.”

“I don’t care about that…'' you sigh out softly, although it wasn’t entirely the truth and you were thankful that Jisung’s suggestion was able to subside your headache. “I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

Jisung’s fingers stay inside you, his hand pressed against your throbbing pussy as he looks at your face. You already looked so fucked out. So desperate, your eyes craving and needy. “Are you sure?”

You slowly nod, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly. It wasn’t too sloppy, but your tongue brushed over his lips, “Yes, Jisung… I want you to make me your bitch…”

“Oh, sweet, sweet (Y/N)...” Jisung chuckles darkly, his hand pulling itself from your pussy, making you twitch and gasp loudly as his wet hand flies up to grip your cheeks. Pushing your head back slightly as his fingers press into your jaw, holding your head in place as you clenched around nothing. Your pussy craves both release and Jisung ever so badly.

“You were my bitch since the beginning,” Jisung’s voice grows familiarly dark, and you try to clamp your legs shut from the chills that run through your womanhood. But, Jisung’s hand yanks your legs apart. “Keep your legs spread for me. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You let out a breathy moan, and, at first, you thought Jisung was going to pull you into a kiss. But, he didn’t. He chose a rougher path. He quickly pushes you off of him. Standing up and pushing you face first onto the bed. The back of his hand pushing your face down into the sheets, the other guiding your hips up slowly. Spreading your legs for him. Such a dirty position, your dripping pussy on display for no one other than Han Jisung.

But, he doesn’t spend much time staring at your pussy. Instead, his hands grip your wrists, and he grinds his clothed, hard cock against your wet pussy. He let out a breathy moan, leaning over your so he was next to your ear as he whispered, “You see how hard you make me, (Y/N)? You see you fucking riled up you make me? Makes me want to fuck this pussy all damn day. Have you sit on my cock all fucking day, huh?”

You moan out in response, your hair spread as your hoodie fell down. Your bra is slightly exposed, and Jisung pulls himself up. Basically ripping off your bra and tossing it to the side. Not even bothering with the hoodie itself as he tore down his jeans.

You couldn’t watch him, so you knew he was fully exposed when you heard the snap and fall of his boxers. It’s almost an instant when his throbbing head comes out and presses against your pussy. Your lips fall wide open as Jisung rubs his cock over your soaking pussy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Jisung moans out lowly, “So ready for my cock, like always. So desperate for me. So needy for me cock, aren’t you? Already so fucked out and I haven’t even put my dick inside you yet. Such a slutty girl…”

You moan out, your back arching, presenting yourself more to him, “Jisung! Jisung, please just fuck me…! I need it so bad, please…So bad…” You breath out rapidly, clutching the sheets.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath in response to your begging, “Since you asked so nicely…”

And, like an instant, Jisung was inside you. His hips pressed against your ass, his hands guiding your hips back to meet with his. You let out loud strings of moans and groans of Jisung’s name and incoherent words as Jisung fucks himself into you, raw. His dick throbs inside your wet walls. You clench around him desperately, your back falling limp as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), you do so well in this po-position, don’t you?” Jisung breathes out raggedly, and you moan loudly in response. Jisung’s hands harshly gripping your hips and waist to have you meet back with his harsh, aggressive thrusts. His cock burns your hot walls, burning in such a blissfully good way, it makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jisunggie -ah… It’s so… so good - oh, fuck! Just like that, please, just like that!” You scream out as Jisung props up one of his legs, allowing him to have a better angle to thrust even faster and harder. Ramming his rock hard dick into you with passion. Jisung’s hands trail around your waist and ass once you’ve started to bounce back, meeting with his thrusts on your own.

His hands knead your ass. Spreading your cheeks before firmly pressing them. One of his hands, however, reaches up. Slowly crawling up your back, and his hips stagger a bit as his hands grip a handful of your hair. First, his hand merely presses against your head. But, at some point, he yanks you head back. Forcing you up from the bed, and you use your weak arms as support as Jisung’s hand yanks at your hair. You stare at the wall, but you don’t focus on it. You can’t. Your eyes keep rolling back or crossing, mixing beautifully with your loud moans.

Jisung uses the grip on your hair to give him a steadier rhythm as he thrusted into you. His hips slapping against your ass, making it bounce with every thrust. The sounds of skin slapping, your loud moaning and Jisung’s groans and occasional dirty talk filled the room as Jisung pressed wet kisses to your neck. Suckling on the back of your neck especially, and you moan from the feeling of his tongue being flushed against your sweating skin.

It was so much, his cock, the pulling of your hair and his tongue on your neck. Your mind falls blank, thinking of nothing other than Jisung’s cock. Some drool dribbles down the side of your chin as your eyes water from the pleasure. You can’t say anything more, not even being able to form Jisung’s name correctly. You’re so fucked out, so beautifully fucked out.

Jisung definitely noticed it, too, since it gave him the courage to start biting your sensitive skin. It was more sensitive in some places, and you immediately knew that he left hickeys. He bite them gently, yet firmly before running his tongue over the markings.

Your pussy clenched around him dangerously tight. So tightly, it makes Jisung let out a low, broken moan and makes his hips stagger and twitch as he presses himself deep into you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna cum for me like the good little slut you are? Cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum for me,” Jisung groans out loudly, pressing your head against the sheets again, muffling your loud moans as you feel your climax nearing.

Your knees buckle as your legs twitch and tense dangerously tightly as you feel yourself cum hard. Jisung slows down slightly, riding you out on your high. Your loud moans turn into high pitched ones as your back spasms from the intensity of it.

Right after you cum, Jisung quickly pulls out of you before shooting ropes of white cum onto your ass. You breathe heavily, trying your best to catch your breath as you listen to Jisung moan loudly once he cums, too. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you feel your entire body relax. All your muscles calm. Exhaustion washes over you like a tidal wave.

And you’re out like a light.

Jisung was a bit concerned as to why you fell asleep so easily. But, he didn’t argue. He gently cleaned you both up while you slept and changed you into a pair of his clothes after he realized you wouldn’t wake up even if he blew an air horn in your ear. He laid you in his bed, as comfortably as he could make you. He wiped the sweat off of your face and watched your sleeping face for a few minutes before he moved back to his desk, grabbing his laptop from his backpack and opening it. Opening work for his classes, since he’ll be absent for the rest of the day.

You slept exceptionally soundly, and he was thankful for that.

Jeongin actually came back that night, too. At first, he didn’t see you sleeping in Jisung’s bed, but once Jisung motioned for him to be quiet, Jeongin looked over to his bed to see locks of (H/C) hair poking out of the blanket. He wondered why you were here, and Jisung naturally just said that you had gotten into a fight and injured yourself and he was taking you in to take care of you. Jeongin didn’t argue much and minded his own business for the rest of the day.

However, Jisung intended to sleep next to you. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. The guilt piling inside him prevented him from doing so.

#han jisung #jisung #jisung han #han #skz #stray kids #stray kids angst #smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz angst #jisung x reader angst

608 notes · View notes

woeisme-iamwoe · 3 years

Text

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it.

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy.

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale.

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on.

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch

two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes.

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them.

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.”

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love.

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on.

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with.

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married.

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic.

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites.

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience.

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride.

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together.

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while.

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!!

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

Routine, by snoqualmie (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly.

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso.

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read.

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit.

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it.

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful.

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong.

my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.

Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth.

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love.

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried.

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together.

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot.

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa.

Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it.

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet.

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay.

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings.

we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it.

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother.

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru.

how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse.

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru

72 notes · View notes

hazza-bear-care · 3 years

Text

First Time

Summary: Every girl fantasizes how to make her first time amazing, but Y/N never got it. That is until Steve Rogers comes to her rescue.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Virgin!Reader

Warnings: description of panic attack, SMUT, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), some minor swearing. IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING. YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ THIS!!!

THIS IS A LONG ONE BOYS! BUCKLE UP!

~~~~~~~~

When she was 16, it seemed like everyone in her school was losing their virginities. It had gotten to the point where Y/N thought she was the only girl in her friend group who hadn’t had sex yet. Her two best friends had managed to lose theirs AND keep their boyfriends, so she thought the same would happen to her. But after graduating high school and college (twice), Y/N was still wondering when she was going to get her perfect first time.

Her job didn’t help to keep her distracted, though. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D regularly worked with the Avengers, so Y/N interacted with the most attractive people she had ever seen on an almost every day basis.

“Earth to Y/N! What’s got you so distracted today?” Maria Hill asked as the two walked towards the conference room, data pad tucked beneath her arm as Y/N carried paper files for Steve and Bucky.

“Huh? Oh, nothing really. I was just... thinking.” Y/N replied, hoping that would be enough to make Maria back off just a little bit.

“Thinking about what?” Well, that worked.

“Um, can I ask you a personal question?” Y/N asked, stopping in the hallway.

“Sure, what is it?” The look of concern on Maria’s face almost made Y/N reconsider asking.

“How old were you when you lo... lost your virginity?” Y/N looked at her heels and shook her knees, trying to distract herself even more.

“I was 17. I lost it on prom night and if I could take it back, I would. Why?” Y/N was silent, her eyes still not meeting Maria’s as she gnawed on her bottom lip. “You’re still a virgin? Y/N how is that possible?!”

“How is what possible?” A deep voice asked from behind them causing Maria and Y/N to jump. Steve stood in his place, a quizzical look on his face as the two girls in front of him tried to gather themselves.

“Oh, Captain Rogers! Agent Hill and I were just discussing the mission you’re going on in a few days.” Y/N fumbled, handing Steve the mission highlights in his folder as the three continued to make their way to the conference room.

“Is that one for Bucky?” Steve asked, gesturing to the other folder in Y/N’s grasp.

“Yes, it is. I know the two of you aren’t comfortable with technology, so I printed the briefings for you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Doll. Thank you.” The pair shared a smile as Steve excused himself into the conference room. Maria glanced at Y/N, a very big smile on her face.

“What?” Y/N asked as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, anxious for Bucky to arrive so the meeting can start. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she tried to avoid Maria’s staring.

“You like him! You like Steve!”

“Will you be quiet?! You don’t even know if that’s true or not, Maria!” The harsh whispering echoed in the almost silent hallway and Y/N feared that Steve had heard Maria’s accusation through the doors that lead to the conference room.

“You don’t need to try and hide it, Y/N. Steve is a good choice and from what I’ve heard, he’s GREAT in bed.” Maria argued, giddy at the possibility of her best friend shacking up with Captain America. Maria couldn’t hide her grin further as Bucky’s thundering footsteps were heard echoing down the hallway.

“Afternoon, ladies,” Bucky greeted as Y/N handed him his file. He took it with a smile and held the door open for the girls as they all entered the conference room.

~~~~~~

The meeting was so long. Y/N usually loved mission briefings, but she couldn’t stay focused. Every time she looked up from her notepad, Steve’s profile just happened to catch her attention: the sharpness of his jawline accentuating the angles of his nose. Maria cleared her throat which caused Steve to turn his head, catching the most recent glance from Y/N as she blushed and looked down at her notepad. Steve smiled a little at her reaction to being caught staring.

Steve had quite a crush on the newest S.H.I.E.L.D agent: her eyes told a story he’d love to listen to, her hair was always ridiculously shiny and looked like it smelled fantastic, and her curvy figure did nothing to stifle his feelings for her. Y/N was always so innocent, keeping to herself and opting to bury her nose in her work rather than going out and partying. She always took his needs as well as Bucky’s into consideration, especially when it came to teaching them how to adjust to the technology that they couldn’t avoid. She recommended books ranging anywhere from Great Gatsby to the Harry Potter series. The three of them (Steve, Bucky, and Y/N) regularly had movie nights and heated arguments about whether the book was better than the movie.

Y/N showed the two super soldiers everything she could. They were always together, yet it didn’t seem weird. The only thing that she couldn’t stop were her blossoming feelings for Steve. She was bad at hiding her feelings, but she also knew she couldn’t tell Steve how she felt and risk embarrassing herself forever.

“Alright, dismissed.” Y/N felt her blood rush cold as Fury dismissed the group. She knew Maria was going to escort Bucky out of the room the first chance she got, but Y/N wasn’t sure if she could handle being alone with Steve.

Maria and Bucky dismissed themselves to discuss the briefing, leaving Y/N and Steve alone together. Trying to keep her focus on cleaning up papers and coffee mugs that were scattered around the table, Y/N attempted to keep her breathing even.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You seem kind of flustered today.” She froze.

“I’m good, Steve. Just.. personal things. Lots of stuff on my mind.”

“Like what?” Y/N didn’t want to have this conversation, especially since Steve and Bucky have a mission to go on in less than three days time, but he asked.

“Um nothing important, I promise.” Steve wasn’t having it. She was usually so open and honest especially about if there was anything going on in her life. Now she wasn’t talking and all Steve wanted to do was help.

“Y/N if you tell me, I can probably help.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the suggestion. “I don’t understand. Why was that funny?”

“Oh, Steve, I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is something you can help with.”

“Oh yeah? Try me, Y/N.” The stern look on Steve’s face was enough to make Y/N’s smile drop to the floor. He was serious, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. He wasn’t going to help her with this.

“I... I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.” And with that, Y/N walked out of the conference room and back to her apartment.

~~~~~

Y/N had tried to avoid both Steve and Bucky for the next few days, the awkwardness eating her from the inside out. She avoided their phone calls and invites to movie night at the compound. Tony had even sent Happy over to make sure Y/N was still alive when she didn’t show up to work for the third day in a row.

“Y/N, you can’t keep avoiding them! What happened between you guys?” Natasha asked after showing up to Y/N’s apartment unannounced with three bottles of wine, Wanda and Maria following close behind.

“I just... ugh I’m so stupid! Nothing would have happened if I hadn’t asked Maria a stupid question!” Y/N wanted to scream; bury her face into a pillow and go until her throat was raw. At least then she’d have a reason not to talk to Steve again.

“It was a reasonable question to ask, Y/N. And trust me, no one will think differently of you just because you’re a virgin.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Maria knew she was in trouble. She had just spilled her best friend’s greatest secret and there was no taking it back. If looks could kill, Maria would be dead ten times over with the glare that Y/N was giving her.

“You’re a virgin?” Wanda asked softly, testing to see if it was safe to talk again.

“God! Why not just yell it from the rooftop next time, Maria!” Y/N had barely touched her first glass of wine, but she downed it in about three sips out of frustration. “I never should have said anything. I’d rather die a virgin than keep being made fun of it by my so-called friends.”

“Y/N, shut it. We are your friends and we are NOT making fun of you. We just can’t seem to wrap our minds around how you’re 26 years old and still a virgin. You’re gorgeous. You have an amazing body and you are a complete badass with a weapon. How have you managed to stay a virgin for that long and with the history you have?” Natasha clarified their confusion in a more understandable way, which obviously caught Y/N’s attention.

“I honestly don’t know. My mom scared me out of doing it when I was in school, but that was mostly due to her fears about me growing up. Then I went to college and just opted to focus on school so I could get the job I loved. I guess I just forgot about it. But now I’m here with an extremely obvious crush on America’s Golden Boy and no way to talk to him about this.” Y/N rested her hands on her face and did everything she could to hold back her tears of stress and embarrassment. Someone put their hand on Y/N’s back in hopes of comforting her, but she wasn’t one to seek comfort through anyone’s touch. She nudged the hand off of her shoulder and left her small kitchen to pout in her bedroom, the other three women left confused in their places.

~~~

After a quick phone call to Steve from Natasha, the super soldier was standing outside of Y/N’s apartment. The details of the call were fuzzy, seeing as Natasha only said something along the lines of “Y/N is upset and she needs to see you”. Thinking she was in danger, Steve tried asking for more details, the suitcase for his mission left abandoned on his bed. But Natasha could only request that Steve go to Y/N’s apartment to fix this, which confused the super soldier further.

With a knock on the door, Steve held his breath as he waited for the girl of his dreams to invite him inside. His heart started racing faster as his enhanced hearing pinpointed the quick footfalls of Y/N as she scurried to the door. The locks clicked and the barrier was pulled open, the slight smile on her face falling immediately.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Y/N asked, voice coming out no louder than a whisper.

“Nat called me and said you were upset. I thought something happened, so I came here as fast as I could. Are you okay?” Steve was masking his panic poorly, the words coming out rushed.

“I’m fine! How many times do I have to tell you people?” Y/N walked away from the door and threw her hands in the air with exasperation. Steve followed, closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt. He didn’t even feel safe in this neighborhood.

“What do you mean?”

“I made the mistake of telling Maria one of my biggest secrets and now the entire team is worried about me! They keep asking me if I’m okay or if I’ll BE okay. Then she brought over Wanda and Natasha as if she KNEW I didn’t want anyone else to hear, but they had already known! I just don’t know what to do anymore!” Y/N’s breath had quickened as she began hyperventilating, her fingers anchoring themselves in her hair. Tears began streaming down her face as her breathing strains and Steve knew what he needed to do. He surged forward and grabbed Y/N by her shoulders, spinning her until her back was against his chest. He slid down the wall until they were sitting, and his next step was to unravel her hands from her hair. While humming a soft unknown tune, he worked on massaging her wrists until her hands fell away from her head and landed on his forearms. Steve wrapped his arms around her as she finished crying, her fat tears falling against his fingers.

“Better?” Steve questioned after Y/N’s breathing had evened out. She shrugged. “Gimme a color?”

“Yellow.” Confused and wants to talk about it, just not yet. Steve nodded, and adjusted his grip, smiling slightly when he felt her dig her nails into his skin.

“Alright, hon. I’ll be here when you want to talk. Let’s get you some water?” He helped her get off the floor as he found his way to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water out from the fridge and twisted the top off before walking back to Y/N. He handed the her the bottle as she made her way to the couch while he chose something to watch.

“You really wanna know what’s wrong?” Her voice made Steve jump, but he nodded once he was situated in his spot.

“Of course I want to know. I still think I can help.”

“I’m a virgin. That’s what Maria and I were talking about before the mission briefing. And then she found out I had a crush on you and just.... took it and ran. Granted I wasn’t trying to hide how I felt, but it still wasn’t her business. I didn’t want to know if you or Bucky had found out and I didn’t want to know what you had to say. I don’t want to lose what we have just because I want to sleep with you....” More tears fell from Y/N’s eyes as she confessed her feelings to Steve. Steve sat speechless at the other end of the couch, eyes glued to her shoulder.

Steve exhaled, his shocked breath coming out like a groan. When he actually looked back to Y/N, he could see how scared she was. His freezing clearly didn’t do anything to make the moment less terrifying.

“I knew. A-about the crush at least. Tony kind of clued me into it at my birthday party. I must admit, he kind of made me realize MY crush in the moment as well. But, Y/N, are you absolutely positive that you’d want me to take your virginity?”

“You’re the only one I’d want to. It’s the right choice.” And with that, Steve lunged forward and crushed her lips with his, emotions flooding them both. Adoration, devotion, passion, love overwhelmed their senses as their lips continued to move together, their mouths fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Steve commented once they pulled away breathless. Y/N smiled at Steve’s comment, a slight blush on her cheeks. Steve leaned in again, but this kiss was calmer and less rushed. He wanted to savor the moment, etch the feeling of her lips into his mind for all eternity. Wanting to escalate the kiss a little further, Steve licked at Y/N’s bottom lip. She froze, the feeling unnatural and foreign; nonetheless she opened her mouth just enough for Steve’s tongue to slip past her teeth. A small moan travelled from her throat to his mouth which prompted the super soldier to smile into the kiss.

Out of breath, Y/N broke away from the kiss and stood from her seat, a quizzical look on Steve’s face.

“Can we... gotomyroom?” She mumbled quickly.

“One more time? I didn’t quite hear you, hon.” Steve mocked, a slight smirk on his face.

Exhaling, Y/N prepared herself to speak again. “Can we go to my room?”

Steve stood and walked over to Y/N, kissing her deeply as his hands cupped her cheeks. “Lead the way, baby.”

Y/N’s room was small and scarcely decorated, almost as if she didn’t have enough time to finish it before something happened. There weren’t many knickknacks or tchotchkes, but there were three shelves completely overflowing with books. Steve loved how smart she was, but still couldn’t wrap his mind around how scared she seemed to be in the moment. Y/N had sat down on the bed as if waiting for the man in front of her to make a move, but this time it was Steve who was frozen in his place.

“Steve?”

“Are you sure about this? I need to hear you say it, Y/N.” The commanding tone in his voice wasn’t one she was unfamiliar with, yet it still sent a delicious tingle between her legs.

“I’m sure. I want this. Come fuck me, Steve.” The confidence in her voice shocked them both, but Steve didn’t need anymore persuasion. Stepping forward, he all but tackled her to the bed, her small frame trapped and mushed underneath the broad expanse of his chest as their lips met once again. Steve’s fingers travelled under her shirt before fiddling with the plain cups of her bra. Y/N’s breathing stuttered slightly, but she made no effort to remove the warm hand from her breast. A surge of tenacity sizzled through Y/N’s veins as she pulled away from Steve and ripped her shirt over her head. When Steve paused to admire her body, practically drooling at the sight, she dipped her head and began wrapping her arms around her torso.

“No. You don’t have to hide from me, Y/N. You’re beautiful, okay?” Y/N nodded, but still made no effort to remove her arms from her chest. With a sigh and another kiss, Steve worked his fingers under her arms and pinned her wrists above her head. “No hiding.”

Y/N whimpered softly at Steve’s domination, but she didn’t want him to stop. Steve began trailing kisses down her neck as his other hand snuck behind her to pop her bra open, releasing her wrists for a few seconds to rid her body of the undergarment before pinning her to the bed again. Y/N gasped at the nippy air in her room, mentally damning herself for how cold she liked to keep her room. All previous thoughts evacuated as Steve wrapped his soft lips around one of her nipples, the bud pebbling instantly in his mouth. Y/N whined as Steve sucked and flicked his tongue around her nipple, hissing slightly when his teeth brushed against it. He moved to her other breast, smiling slightly at her panting. Once he chose to stop the torment on her chest, Steve slithered down to her waist. Pausing for a moment, he savored the image of the girl beneath him, the fear in her eyes still very prominent.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asked, his attention glued to Y/N’s eyes as if she were still fully clothed.

“No. Please don’t stop, Steve.” With that, he continued. He let go of her wrists as he worked the button on her pants open, pulling them off inch by inch and throwing them over his shoulder once they were off completely. He smiled softly at the sight of her blue panties seeing as there was absolutely nothing sexy about them at all. Stuff like that never mattered to Steve, of course, but he found her lack of lace amusing. He left her panties alone, though, opting instead to disrobe himself instead. It was only fair that he match her nakedness before continuing. Once he was left in just his boxers, Y/N felt her cheeks flush at the sight of how big his bulge was. She wasn’t completely inexperienced, but he would be the biggest she had ever seen.

“Hey. Eyes up here, princess.” Steve gestured to his eyes as he slunk back between her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. He placed a few chaste kisses on her left leg, starting at her knee and trailing up her thigh. He skipped her apex entirely as he repeated his movements on her right leg. Smirking at her whine when he went to kiss her thigh again, he gently tugged her panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her bare pussy. Flicking his eyes up to gauge her reaction, Steve leaned forward and kissed her lower lips twice before sliding his tongue through her folds. Y/N flinched and gasped at the foreign feeling, yet brought one hand down to tangle her fingers in Steve’s blonde hair. Captain America smirked at her reaction and repeated his previous motion with more pressure each time. He isolated her clit between his lips and swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub, causing Y/N to throw her head back in pleasure. He chuckled, the vibrations sending a shiver up her spine as she felt a tightness in her stomach. Steve took advantage of her distraction and slipped a finger inside her tight entrance, his tongue still working furiously on her clit. Once he decided that she could handle it, he pushed another finger into her entrance, a slight sting radiating around her pussy. He pumped his fingers in time to his movements on her clit, curling his fingers upwards twice before Y/N came with a yelp. Steve stayed put, riding her through her high before pulling himself away.

He stood once more and discarded her panties along with his boxers and crawled back over her body, his face hovering over hers. Y/N could feel his stiff member poking into her thigh as she tried to focus her attention on the man above her and not on the thoughts running through her mind.

“Y/N, you’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

Making eye contact with Steve, Y/N could see that worry was more prominent than lust, his baby blue eyes swimming with conflict.

“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you, Steve.” She lifted her head off the mattress and pressed her lips to his, mostly to ease her own nerves rather than his. While they were kissing, Steve’s hand dipped between them to position himself at her entrance, sliding the tip into her tight heat. He resisted the urge to moan at the feeling, opting to focus his attention on her comfort. Y/N had hissed slightly at the feeling, but didn’t break away from the kiss seeing as it was the only thing that was truly distracting her from the pain. Steve’s thumb began circling around her clit as he continued to thrust inch by inch, sheathing himself inside her wet heat entirely. He let her adjust to the foreign feeling before pulling away from the kiss and moving his hips slightly, watching her face the entire time.

Her eyes were pinched shut and her eyebrows furrowed. Her nostrils flared as she regulated her breathing, slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of Steve inside her.

“More.” She whispered as Steve slid out of her pussy almost entirely. He snapped his hips forward and watched as her eyes fluttered and her jaw dropped into a perfect ‘O’. He kept a slow but steady pace, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of just how tight she was while keeping an ear open for any sounds of discomfort. His strokes hit that spot deep inside her pussy, causing her legs to shake and wrap around Steve’s waist, a loud moan falling from her lips.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Steve groaned as he picked up his pace slightly, not wanting to break Y/N her first night. Y/N was too blissed out to scold Steve for his language, but it truly seemed as if neither of them cared in the moment. Her fingers wrapped around his biceps, nails digging sharply into his skin which Steve took as a sign to speed up once more. The headboard to Y/N’s bed started knocking against the wall as Steve’s brutal pace took her breath away.

“Fuck, Steve, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Y/N yelled, her head thrown back in pleasure and bliss. The super soldier took advantage of how open her neck was and splayed his warm lips across the column of her throat, kissing and sucking until a very dark mark was left behind. He trailed hickeys and love bites down to her chest, scattering the marks wherever his lips could reach. His fingers dug into her hips as his pace seemed to get ever faster.

Before she had a moment to process how good she was feeling, Y/N was flipped onto her stomach and one of Steve’s hands wrapped in her hair, pulling slightly. She moaned at the new sensation as Steve growled in his throat. The hand that wasn’t in her hair wrapped around her waist, allowing his fingers to toy with her clit. Another moan filled the air, along with the sinful sounds her pussy was making. Steve was dizzy; the feeling of being inside her, the wonderful sounds she was making, the smell of sex in the air all contributed to his rising orgasm.

“Fuck, Steve! I-I’m close!” Y/N whined from underneath him, her face buried in her pillow and her fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

“Me too. Let go, Y/N. I’ve got you, baby.” Steve muttered close to her ear, his hips stuttering slightly. With Steve’s permission, Y/N’s body started to shake as her climax washed over her. Steve’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as she clenched around his dick, the super soldier not being able to hold back his own climax as he pumped her full of his cum. They both collapsed onto the bed, panting.

Y/N seemed to come to her senses faster than Steve did as she ran to the bathroom to clean herself up. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and the girl she saw was almost unrecognizable: dark purple bruises covered her pale skin, her hair was a tangled mess, and there were noticeable marks from where Steve’s hand had been on her hip. A strange quietness took over her mind and it was almost like her body was running on autopilot. She grabbed her bathrobe off the hook by the door and secured it around her body tightly, hiding the marks that she knew she should cherish. Once she entered her room, Steve was completely dressed again and sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, worry very prominent in his voice. With a nod, Y/N sat next to him, but opted to keep some space between them. She didn’t regret what happened, she just needed time to process it. “Can I have a color?”

“Yellow, but it’ll be red if you ask again, Steve.” He smiled sadly and stood, leaving his place on the bed to kneel in front of Y/N. Her eyes seemed dull, but bright at the same time. Her gaze was everywhere except Steve, and once again she was chewing on her bottom lip. Steve reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead when he stood up again.

“We can talk about this later, if you want to. Just know that you’re not going to lose me because of this, okay?” Y/N nodded. Steve lifted her chin and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. It was soft and timid, almost as if he believed he was overstepping his boundaries. “Text me if you need anything. I’ll be back in a week; two at the latest. We can talk then.” With one more soft kiss to her lips, Steve left.

She wasn’t a virgin anymore, and she owed that to her friends. She just couldn’t understand why she felt so guilty about it.

Steve had just gotten back to his apartment by the time he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. His heart almost broke at the text message in front of him:

“Come back. I need you.”

#avengers imagine #steve rogers imagine #captain america #bucky barnes imagine #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #marvel imagine

71 notes · View notes

ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

Text

Drunk Mistakes

A/N: I got this idea pretty randomly as well. Definitely more mature situations and what not here. Pairing: Gerard x F!Stripper!Reader Word count: 2,014 words. Warnings: Mature/adult themes through the text, no smut or explicit content though.

Being a stripper was a difficult job.

It wasn’t your career by any means, just a side hustle to make some extra cash. When you were on your own for the first time and fresh out of college, barely living paycheck to paycheck, you decided it was time to reconsider getting a side job. And somehow, a stripper worked out.

You really didn’t mind it at all. Despite the sore muscles, you would occasionally get, or the one or two blisters during your time, it was a pretty consistent job. The pay was great, you could come home easily making upwards of a few hundred bucks a night. And you strictly worked only two to three days a week, too busy for anything else.

The only negative to being a stripper was finding a partner. Most men believed and feel for the stigma that you were not loyal, going home with clients, or just didn’t respect what you did for some of your time.

But you were shocked when you found a nice, nonjudgmental guy through a mutual friend. Gerard was incredibly nice, to begin with, but after just a few weeks of seeing each other and getting a little more serious, you finally had the dreaded conversation.

You couldn’t help but cringe when you awaited his response. You could see his eyes grow wide, his mouth opening a bit, clearly unsure of how to respond. “Oh, okay.” He finally said.

“O-okay?” You asked, somewhat confused as to whether or not that was good or bad.

“I mean, you do you, right? It’s not like it’s gonna affect us, right?” He questioned.

“No, I-” You took a moment of silence, “If we’re gonna continue this, I hope you realize private sessions and stuff are going off the table for me. No personal time or anything with clients.” He nodded.

“You don’t have to do that for me.” He stated.

“If we’re going to be something, then I probably should.” You lightly smiled, “It would just make me feel better.” He nodded again.

“To be honest it would make me feel better too,” He lightly laughed, “I just didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want to do.” You couldn’t help but just lean in and kiss him, thanking him silently for saying anything of the sort to you.

And your relationship almost became stronger as Gerard realized how much you had trusted him after he admitted he had no problem with it, and you had fallen head over heels for him. He was perfect in every way, and despite the fact you had seen many men, not one could ever compare to your boyfriend.

And you made sure to always remind him of that. You would cook for him, buy him the things he wanted most but was always unsure about, and a lot of intimate time.

You couldn’t count how many times you would get home at 4 am, take a shower rinsing off the smell of the club, and climb into bed with Gerard who would instinctively wrap an arm around you as you cuddled right into him for comfort, immediately feeling a smile spread on your face as you got the warm and fuzzy feeling of being safe with him.

You remember the first time he ever asked to see you perform. At the club. You would have been more than willing to do one for him at home for free that definitely would have led to explicit activities that were forbidden at the club, but him being there, you weren’t sure.

Obviously stripping wasn’t necessarily your endgame. You weren’t ashamed to do it, but you also weren’t sure how he would feel. I mean, sure, he wanted to see you, he was the one who asked but it almost felt embarrassing to be almost completely naked in front of your boyfriend and dozens of other guys. “Babe, I’m not sure.” You admitted barely above a whisper. It was funny, you had seen him perform tons of times, but you were too afraid to do it in front of him.

“You know I won’t judge.” He kindly smiled as you straddled his waist, his hands locking on your hips for support, “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s alright. But I would at least like to see you.”

“I could give you a completely free show now.” You told him, smiling back and hiding your face in the crook of his neck, “And you would actually be able to touch me.”

“I’m not protesting.” He admitted. You smiled, getting up to grab your shoes, “Wait, for real?” He looked at you as if actually making sure that this was going to happen.

“Yes, of course.” You smiled, looking back at him from where you stood in the doorway, him on the couch.

“I don’t have cash-”

“Gee, please,” You lightly laughed, “Now you just sit back and give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

You had a few nights like that that followed. Whenever he brought up going to your club you would always grow weary, really nervous for what it would actually be like. But here, it was completely free with no rules.

You also knew clubs were not Gerard’s venue of choice. Nothing of the sort, actually. And you didn’t want to make him feel obligated to come in and be extremely uncomfortable all because you worked there two to three nights a week.

You had an agreement, he wouldn’t come in until both of you felt comfortable. Clubs were not his scene, and the only reason you really worked there was to make extra cash. But it was still fun, being able to come home and count your earnings.

Sometimes depending on the night Gerard was there too and would assist in the counting process after you washed all your money, which was always fun. You would dump out one of your designer bags filled with cash into the machine, and once it was done the two of you would sit in the living room just counting. And you would always give Gerard a bit, despite the fact he protested, for his help in individually counting a bunch of ones.

That was another positive aspect of your relationship with him, you had to completely separate accounts when it came to money. You never took any of his and he never took any of yours. However you always found it so cute when you would go and get your nails done every few weeks, and sometimes he would force his card upon you and tell you he was paying.

But this one night in specific, you felt you broke it all.

Every night you always had a shot before you went on. It was something to at least help you not be as serious, and by the time you needed to go home, you were always sober. You could definitely do more safely, but you typically didn’t. However tonight it was incredibly busy, girls fighting over who was going to please what man. None of that mattered to you, you would switch every few stages, go up there do your routine, and not touch a man.

After three shots you were finally ready, your body relaxing and ready to go. Everything was moving smoothly, your cash flow was going up every minute just by the pure larger number of people. You could feel yourself begin to lose some of the grip on your complete mind. You could still think, just not 100%. And therefore not logically.

That’s how you ended up in a private room, on another man’s lap. You weren’t too aware of what was happening, other than he had offered a few grand for you and you took it. But back in the locker room as you finished up your shift, got out of your costume and makeup, everything hit you. Reality hit you like a train, the alcohol seemed to escape from your system immediately. You had broken your main promise to your boyfriend.

You managed to get home despite the alcohol wearing off and the panic attack you were currently having. You knew you had to tell Gerard everything, despite the fact a small part of you wanted to push it under the rug and pretend like it never happened, but that would break a bond in the trust of your relationship, which you didn’t want to further after all that went down tonight.

You walked through your apartment door, your Gerard waiting in the living room while watching a movie. “Hey, babe.” He smiled, getting up, his bright and beautiful face always made your heart skip a beat. But this time, you broke completely down in tears. “Babe?” He rushed over, taking a look at you before wrapping his arms around you, soft sobs being disrupted by the clashing of your acrylics as you too grabbed onto him. “What’s wrong?”

You dove in headfirst, after he led you to the couch you spilled everything. How you had drunk too much, made the decision to have a private with another man, and even how much you made after he asked. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your entire face bright red with anger at yourself and from the salty tears on your skin. Sobs erupted from your throat, Gerard surprisingly remaining calm during the whole thing.

“Baby,” He said with a light voice, “Why don’t you go take a shower, okay?”

“Gee,” You chocked on your words, “Please, I’m sorry-”

“I know, I know,” He responded with a sigh, “But you’re also incredibly emotional, and before we have a serious conversation I want you to be relaxed, okay?” With reluctance you got up and nodded, not wanting to fight anymore considering you had already done enough damage in a few hours.

The shower did help, which Gerard knew, hence why he sent you to. And also because you always showered when you got home, but now it was needed more than ever. You were now more worried about how Gerard would act. He had every right to break up with you after you betrayed his trust. But you had no clue what you would do if that actually happened.

Once in bed next to your lover, both of you sitting up in a more stiff position, he finally spoke on the matter, “I’m not mad.” He simply said, “Or upset.” You gave a puzzled look, your mind wondering what was going on. He was supposed to be mad and upset, right? “This is how you bring in extra cash, you were drunk, and you didn’t have to quit all private sessions for me in the first place but you did. It was a mistake. And even if I was upset, there would be no need for me to be considering I can tell you’re already upset with yourself.”

“So you’re not gonna break up with me?” You stared at him in disbelief. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Not in my dreams, no.” He admitted, “I couldn’t live without you if I tried.”

“Okay good,” You let out a breath of relief, “Because I think I would have a full crisis and breakdown if you did.”

“Just, please, don’t beat yourself up about this for weeks.” He gave you a serious look, “You’re going to stress yourself out and it’s just not going to be good.”

“I’ll try not to Gee but-”

“No buts.” He interrupted you, going into his wallet on his bedside table, “Go get your nails done tomorrow, then we’ll go to the book store okay? Or record shopping, I don’t care.” He handed you his card.

“Gee I can pay for myself-”

“Just take the damn card, Y/N.” You gave in, taking his card and putting it on your bedside table for tomorrow.

“When my face isn’t red and swollen I’ll give you the lap dance of your life,” You looked at him, “I promise.”

He gave a smile and a chuckle, “Fine by me, I’m not protesting.”

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #gee way #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

37 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Another One?!, Part 4

First > Previous > Next

At first, Adrien didn’t really know whether or not they were being followed.

There are a lot of kids with black hair and blue eyes, and he had a tendency to patrol certain areas. It was entirely plausible that he could just be paranoid or imagining things.

But there was a point where you had to step back and say ‘no, that’s definitely not normal’.

And Adrien hit that point when he had started counting the times he spotted the kid and ended up with eleven times by the end of the week.

He stopped in the middle of patrol and sat down on his favorite gargoyle for a short break to text the family about his findings. They deserved to know what was going on...

ChatoNoir: I think there's a person following us.

HelmetRights: Lol

ChatoNoir: This is serious!

Buginette: is it the scrawny kid with black hair and blue eyes

ChatoNoir: You’ve seen him, too?

RockinRobin: we all have????

HelmetRights: Lol

Buginette: their fine if you wanna get rid of them just wave they get all blushy and hide

HelmetRights: *They’re

Buginette: bitch lets see you type in french

HelmetRights: Qu'est-ce que je devrais dire

RockinRobin: alkdjfskdjfksdl

There was a few seconds while Marinette typed, and then apparently deleted her message because it never came through.

Adrien almost smiled but then he remembered what they were supposed to be talking about.

ChatoNoir: Can we get back on subject?

HelmetRights: Lame

Buginette: whats the point its just a fan

HelmetRights: I just wish he’d go back to not taking pictures I’ve missed so many shots because of his stupid flash going off

RockinRobin: i think it’s flattering

HelmetRights: Lol

Buginette: relax its whatever as long as he doesnt get hurt watching us

He sighed and closed his eyes. Fair enough. It’s a kid, those aren’t exactly a threat.

Still, he was a bit concerned. Not for them, they’d be fine, but for the kid. Adrien and Dick were the only ones with some kind of schedule for patrolling because of his job and Dick’s schooling, but Marinette and Jason apparently saw him pretty consistently, too. Just where were this kid’s parents? Were they okay with him being out all the time?

But he figured he must have been overreacting. Maybe they were a street kid like Jason…

No, they had decent clothes.

Adrien frowned to himself. Weird.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. After all, he only had another hour for patrols before he would need to go home to get ready for work. The kid would still be a problem in a few days, anyways...

It turned out Adrien was right to worry, because Marinette spotted the kid a few days later… while she was a civilian.

She had been in her favorite cafe, sipping at a cup of coffee as she read through the newspaper. It was an article about the vigilantes, debating things like ‘What the fuck were they thinking letting kids join them?’ and ‘Why can’t the kids name themselves?’

She found it amusing, even if it was calling her and her family out.

But then she’d felt someone’s eyes on her.

She slowly looked up, expecting a person who wanted to sit or a guy who wanted to flirt…

Only to see the kid.

They locked eyes for a few seconds.

Did he know? Surely, he couldn’t. They did everything from applying makeup to using codenames to hide their identities…

But that was the same starstruck look he wore whenever he looked at their vigilante identities…

She gave him a tiny wave and watched him blush and slump a little in his chair to hide.

Huh.

“Hey, so heads up, I think stalker kid might know who we are.”

Adrien dropped the textbook he was scanning for a refresher on algebra. Dick fell from the ceiling. Jason just looked up in surprise.

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, I don’t know for sure, though. He could just have a thing for people who look like us. Somehow, I doubt it, though. We can’t all be his type.”

“We don’t know how desperate he is,” Jason pointed out.

Marinette hesitated, then gave a tiny shrug as if to say ‘you’re right, I guess…’

“Hello?” Adrien waved his hands to get their attention. “Could you guys please take this seriously? A kid knows our identities!”

“We don’t even know that for sure, though,” said Dick as he started climbing onto the nearest ceiling light. “And, if he does, so what? It’s a kid. People hardly listen to kids.”

He sighed. “Yes, but if he found out then other people might be able to, too. Shouldn’t we ask?”

The family considered this for a minute…

And then Marinette shrugged. “We need to know for sure if he knows our civilian identities, first, though. Everyone keep a lookout?”

Everyone nodded, bored and reluctant.

Adrien frowned. He loved his family, he just wished they’d take things more seriously sometimes… or, at least, not brush past things so quickly...

His watch beeped and he sighed. He pushed the thought aside. He needed to get ready for work.

After everyone had spotted them in their civilian forms several times, they decided to call it: the kid knew who they were.

(At least he wasn’t taking pictures of them as civilians, they thought, because that would be uncomfortable.)

So, for the first time in ages, the four of them were spotted doing a casual patrol together. It was kind of fun, actually. Dick and Marinette practiced some old circus acts that they remembered, Jason and Adrien raced. Maybe they should do it more often…

Marinette and Dick were walking along some power lines when Dick suddenly stopped to point down.

Her eyes followed to find the kid and she whistled for Adrien and Jason’s attention.

The kid was alone on a rooftop. He didn’t seem concerned that they were all pointing at him, though maybe a little flustered…

But then he did freak out.

Because the vigilantes jumped down in a loose circle around him.

Their stalker spun around anxiously as if he wasn’t sure who to look at.

Dick cleared his throat. “Right, do you know why we’re here?”

“I…” The kid finally stopped spinning to look at Marinette and Adrien. “Because I know your identities?”

“Yes. How exactly did you do that?” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

The kid cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, I’m a big Haly’s circus fan --.”

“Ah, shoot,” Dick muttered.

“And… I was looking through some old footage of you guys on Youtube… and I realized that Robin did a move that only Dick Grayson would know. And, if Dick Grayson was Robin, then you guys all had to be vigilantes.”

The entire family was glaring at Dick.

The man in question just awkwardly looked to the side.

Marinette clicked her tongue and then looked back at the kid. “Okay, what was the url of the footage you got? I’ll see if we can give them a copyright strike. Youtube’s system is broken so it’d probably work.”

The kid in question shook his head. “You don’t have to. I got rid of it myself.”

“Oh… thanks. Is it anywhere else that you know of?”

“No, I got rid of everything on the internet that could trace back to you guys.”

The family looked at each other, confusion on all of their faces. How…? This kid was fifteen, max, there was no way…

Well, maybe he was bluffing so he could keep the footage. They’d check later.

Jason was apparently done with caring about what was going on, because he had sat down and started checking his guns to make sure they were all okay.

Marinette was feeling much the same, leaning on her cane. “Great, well, thanks for that, I guess… could you maybe stop stalking us as civilians, though?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just doing that to get enough proof to clear your names and then I’ll go back to just watching you as vigilantes.”

“Oh, ok -- wait, what?” Said Dick, frowning a little bit.

The kid frowned as well. “I’m clearing your name… do you not know?”

The four looked at each other before shaking their heads in unison.

He sighed and brought out his phone to pull up an article. He passed it to Jason because he was closest and he cursed quietly.

“The gist of it is people are starting to wonder if you’ve gone bad,” explained the kid as Jason scrolled through the article. “It’s just a gossip column thing right now but I figured I should get proof you guys are still good in case it gained traction.”

Marinette frowned. “I’d understand if they thought we were just bad, not everyone understands that we kill people for the greater good, but saying we’ve gone bad implies that we’ve somehow gotten worse…?”

The phone was passed to her and her first instinct, much like Jason’s, had been to curse.

“Well, there’s been rumors of you and Riddler being friends for years now --.”

“WE’RE NOT,” Marinette hissed, and it took a lot of mental power to not crush the phone in her hands. She passed it on to Dick just in case. “He’s just helpful on some cases is all.”

Adrien rolled his eyes.

The kid sighed lightly. “And, on top of that, all of your most recent high-level takeouts have helped a particular mob boss, Antony Agoura, gain power.”

Her first instinct was ‘cool, thanks for the name, let’s kill him’, but then she forced herself to reconsider.

It seemed that taking down people just helped someone else take their place, which didn’t really surprise her. The moment anything was freed from someone’s hold, there would always be people who would do their best to grab it…

But then what was the solution? The situation with Agoura itself was proof that just murdering the head and saying ‘alright, next thing’ wasn’t working. Someone would just pop up to take his place --.

Adrien met her eyes and they shared anxious frowns.

Fuck, they were actually going to have to think about this one, huh?

He fell back on the couch and closed his eyes.

He listened to his family mull about. He could hear the quiet creaking of Dick getting on a light, could hear Marinette pulling out baking pans, could hear the clinking of Jason’s rings.

He sighed.

What could they do?

They had had a rule that they would never kill henchmen because they often weren’t working just for fun, they had a family to feed or hadn’t been able to get a job elsewhere.

Besides, with the mobster gone, there would be little reason for the police to let them go. They’d serve hard time and then, hopefully, come out a better person.

(Probably not. The prison system needed work.)

But…

He had remembered the name Agoura. He had been under Zucco at some point. He wasn’t sure whether he’d been a mob boss or a henchman at the time, though it didn’t really matter. There were a lot of people who had started out as henchmen that had somehow gotten power.

He sighed. He hated systemic issues.

The main problem, he thought, was that mobsters didn’t fear death as much as they should. Sure, everyone fears death on some level, but the people of Gotham knew what they were doing when they decided to get to that point. They would die if they got caught, and they were willing to take the risk in order to get the money and power that came along with being mobsters.

What did they fear? What weren’t they prepared to face?

He opened his eyes and looked over at Dick, who was currently reviewing for final exams from the ceiling.

The law, maybe? Serving actual hard time?

Well, it was worth a shot.

Dick was about to be a lawyer, so they had someone who would be able to try them in court…

But they needed a police officer to arrest them…

Marinette walked into the room and started looking for her shoes, cursing out brownies.

“Chocolate sauce. How did I forget that? Kwami!” She clicked her tongue. “Son of a -- where are my shoes?”

“Shoes are under the couch,” said Dick calmly.

Marinette gave the world’s angriest “Thank you!” as she ducked down and grabbed them.

“M’lady,” said Adrien.

She paused, looking over at him. “Yes, Chaton?”

“I have an idea for what to do about our newest problem, if you’d like to hear it.”

She tipped her head to the side a little, smiling.

“Sure, but make it quick, I can only keep Dick and Jason away from the batter for so long.”

Hey, New Jersey, what the fuck?

It had literally been easier to get into the circus than it had been to become a police officer.

She’d already gotten a degree in criminal justice a few years back. Why? Because she was really bored.

(Also, she’d wanted to mess with Officer Ross and she had decided that it would be funny to memorize as many laws as possible to point out when his buddies weren’t abiding by them.)

The test had been almost painfully easy. She spoke English as a second language and she’d thought that she was reading almost every question wrong. Some of these people would be detectives one day, you’d think they’d ask for more than basic reading comprehension. The most difficult question she’d gotten was one about license plates, and even then it was multiple choice so she’d had a 20% chance of guessing right.

And then getting a job in the GCPD was somehow easier.

Though she figured out why that last part had happened the first day she walked into work.

Can someone say ‘diversity hire’?

She hugged herself awkwardly. Really? Was she the only person of color in this place?

Wait, there was a singular black guy. She was wrong. She was just the only woman of color. Yay.

But, it seemed, her day was about to get worse.

“Marinette Agreste?”

Her nails dug into her arms and she turned to look at Officer Ross. “That’s me.”

“I’m here to give you a tour of the place. Ready?”

Asshole. Chienne. Motherfucker. Other swear words she couldn’t think of she was so mad.

She forced a smile to her face. “Sure!”

Yay. Galas. He always loved those.

He reached out and helped Jason with his tie and then ruffled his red curls. “What’s the rule?”

Jason grinned. “If you absolutely have to ruin someone’s life, do it discreetly.”

“Good.” He met Dick’s eyes in the mirror. “And what’s your rule?”

“... no hanging and/or swinging from chandeliers.”

“Thank you.” He looked at Tikki. “Please, just let us have one easy gala. No press, no kids getting their hands on wine, no people talking to Mari so we don’t have to leave early.”

Tikki shrugged.

He sighed. Yeah, he’d expected that. Worth a shot, though.

So, the four of them all head off. They told themselves that, hey, even if Tikki couldn’t promise that things will go okay, they could make it happen.

The peace lasted about ten seconds.

Because then Marinette hissed a curse and nodded her head to point out the kid.

He sighed. They hadn’t seen the kid in a while as civilians, so they’d thought that he had actually ended up agreeing that stalking them while they were civilians was taking it too far, but apparently not.

Wait a minute, galas were private events. How did he get in?

They started looking around for the kid’s parents, because obviously they had to be around, but they were nowhere near him.

Marinette and Adrien exchanged frowns.

And then their frowns deepened. Because they glanced behind themselves to look at their kids and found that they weren’t there anymore.

She clicked her tongue and looked around. “You deal with the stalker, I’ll go find the kids. I’m sure that one of them has found a loophole to their rule by now --.” Her eyes widened and she rushed away. “RICHARD JUST BECAUSE THAT’S NOT A CHANDELIER DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN CLIMB IT --.”

Adrien sighed.

He grabbed a glass of wine and then headed over to the kid. “Hey, kiddo, where are your parents?”

He shrugged and pointed over to the small crowd of people watching Marinette attempt to pry a glass of wine from Jason’s hands while they cursed each other out in French.

“Probably over there.”

Adrien winced. “Fun.”

“Your family is a disaster,” said the kid.

“Thanks,” Adrien muttered.

“I think it’s nice. When you’re vigilantes you’re basically gods, it’s nice to know you’re just people.”

He considered this for a second.

“Also, it’s really funny to watch,” added the kid.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall.

After a few minutes of watching the Agreste family crash and burn, the kid looked back over at him.

“Why are you still here?”

“Here with you, here at the gala, or here on Earth?” Adrien half-joked.

They shrugged. “Here with me. Your family needs you right now.”

“Marinette is the better problem solver of the both of us. Besides, you’re a kid, you shouldn’t be left alone.”

“I’m alone all the time, I’ll live.”

Adrien frowned. “What do you --?”

He was cut off when he spotted Marinette dragging Jason over by the back of his suit.

“Hold onto him, will you? I need to catch Dick before he breaks --.” There was a crashing sound nearby. She clicked her tongue. “... before he breaks that hedge. I’ll be back.”

Adrien absently held a hand out and Jason put his arm in it so he could keep a hold on him. His wife gave a tired smile before turning on her heel and stalking off to the hedge maze.

He sighed and looked back at the stalker. “Right, where were we…? Oh, what do you mean by you’re alone all the time?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed a little bit.

“My parents… go on a lot of trips.”

“Without you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“What…? Why…?”

“You wouldn’t understand, you guys never go anywhere.”

Adrien opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but…

“Okay, point, but how often are you alone? Is that why you’re always following us? Do you go to school? Do --?”

He frowned and held up a hand. “That’s a lot of questions at once.” He started to count off on his fingers. “They’re never gone for longer than a month at a time but they only come back for a few days at most. Yes, it’s why I’m always able to follow you. And I’m homeschooled.”

Adrien’s frown was deepening more and more by the second. “Who are your parents, exactly? Or, I guess, who are you?”

“I’m Tim Drake.”

Drake. His eyes flicked to Jack and Janet Drake. He had talked to them a few times because they had a tendency to ask Marinette for commissions (or, at least, they did until Dick and Jason came along and kept their parents distracted for the entire time they were there). Still, he hadn’t even known that they had a kid…

Jason suddenly tugged on his arm, pulling Adrien’s attention back to him.

“Dad, it looks like Dickwad and Mom are wanting to go.”

He frowned and looked up to find that, yes, Marinette had managed to catch Dick and was now waving for their attention from the door.

He winced and looked back over at the kid. “Tim…”

Jason tugged harder on his arm. “Dad, let’s go.”

Adrien gave an apologetic look but allowed Jason to pull him out the door.

The silence in the car was deafening that night, everyone lost in their thoughts.

Marinette was now constantly fighting the urge to punch someone.

Why are all cops just… the absolute worst? Sure, some of them aren’t directly beating up the teenagers that are brought in for information or planting evidence, but they weren’t exactly saying anything about it.

And then there was the fact that she’d been paired with Officer Ross.

Really, she should have expected it. She’d known that his partner had recently passed away in the field, and that he would need another.

If she’d known that she’d have ended up the lucky officer, she would have said fuck it to the whole trying something new thing and just gone after Agoura’s head like normal.

Now she’d gotten too far to just give up...

Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be bitter about it.

As a way to vent her anger, she’d wanted to ask what happened to his old partner but then this stupid thing called ‘morals’ got in the way. Really unfortunate, because now all she could really do was glare at the stack of paperwork that she was being forced to make a digital copy for over her cup of coffee.

She felt an arm rest on her shoulder and cursed internally. She forced a smile to her face as she looked up to see…

Dick. Oh, thank the kwamis.

Marinette grinned. “Hey, sweetie, how did finals go?”

“I don’t want to jinx it.”

She hummed her understanding and moved on. “No problems?”

Dick gave a tiny shrug. “There was a few problems, there was a really annoying kid next to me that apparently still hasn’t learned how to breathe through his nose, but… they actually listened to the doctors and gave me extra time, so that’s good.”

She got up and wrapped him in a hug. “So, out of college officially. How’s it feel?”

He hugged her back, absolutely beaming. “If I passed.”

She clicked her tongue. “Right. But, let’s say you did. Then you’re out.”

“Then I’m out!” He said, pulling back and resting his hands on his hips. “Now all I have to do is find a job.”

“How horrible,” she said sarcastically.

“Yeah. Speaking of horrible jobs, wanna leave?”

“I do, but I have to finish this.” She sat back down and pulled up the daunting task in front of her. She had to type up another few pages and she was not eager to do so. Still, the commissioner had asked to get her email by the end of her shift and, if Dick was here, she was already behind. “I’ll need around an hour, I think.”

He groaned and pulled out his phone.

She smiled faintly and went back to working.

Or, at least, she tried to.

Officer Ross was talking to Dick.

“So, you’re her kid?”

“One of two!”

Ross laughed. “Tell me, is she always so angry at home?”

“Not really. Our family doesn’t really get angry in general, at least not at home. I think we all vent our anger at work, though.”

“Hm. Weird.”

Dick gave a tiny shrug.

“So, just graduated, then?”

“Mhmm! I just finished law school! I’m gonna be a lawyer!”

Ross’s eyes narrowed a little bit. “A lawyer, huh? Are you going to be the one doing the persecuting or defending?”

“Um…” said Dick, who seemed to be just now remembering that cops and lawyers didn’t exactly get along if the way his smile was dropping was any indication. He looked to the side and brought a smile to his face again. “Persecuting. I’m on your side. It would be kind of embarrassing to go against my mom in court, don’t you think?”

He relaxed, nodding. “Good.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence after that and Marinette was finally able to concentrate…

For the two seconds of silence she got before Commissioner Gordon walked over to ask her when she’d be done.

She fought the urge to bang her head on the desk.

She turned around, about to throw Officer Ross under the bus, but it turned out she didn’t need to.

Because then his daughter showed up with some dinner for him.

Gordon turned around to greet her. Thank kwami, finally something was going right. Hopefully he’d forget about what he was doing (he was old, after all) and she’d have until he was back at his desk before he remembered. She’d have around half an hour.

Not enough time to do well but she could probably get away with it because she was still a relatively new hire...

She managed to hit send the second the commissioner turned away from his daughter and slumped in her chair. It wasn’t on time but at least she’d done it.

She looked at her empty coffee cup and clicked her tongue. She glanced at Dick. “I’ll be right back, I’m getting some of the free coffee before I go.”

“Didn’t you say it was awful?”

“Yeah but it’s free.”

“... we’re rich.”

“And?”

Dick grinned. “Whatever. Go ahead. I’ve waited this long.”

She sent him a wave and then disappeared to the break room, clocking out on the way.

When she came back out she found Dick flirting with the commissioner's daughter. She would have been proud if that wasn’t, y’know, her boss’s daughter oh my god she was screwed she was going to lose her job and then the mission would be compromised and --.

She practically ran over to sling her arm around her kid.

(She didn’t actually run, she had a mug of coffee in her hand and she thought that was much more important than any mission, but she was close to it.)

“Sweetie! Hi! We should be getting home, it’s your celebration-dinner-thingy-can’t-remember-the-English-word -- PARTY tonight! I can’t keep you any longer or there won’t be time to bake the cake.”

Dick gave her a bit of side-eye and she gave him a smile in return.

“But…”

Barbara laughed a little. “Go ahead. It’s cake, you can’t just pass up on cake.” She smiled. “Congrats on whatever it is, Dick.”

He looked to the side, smiling. “Thanks. I’d invite you because my mom’s a great baker… but it’s kind of a family thing.”

Barbara shrugged. “It’s fine. I doubt that my dad would be too thrilled about me getting lured into a house with cake, anyways. It’s not that far off from getting lured into the car with candy.” She broke into a grin. “Promise to bring some of her cake by sometime?”

“Sure. I’ll be by tomorrow with as much as I can save.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Dick finally allowed Marinette to pull him out of the police station, sending Barbara a wave over his shoulder long after she was out of view.

She clicked her tongue as they climbed into the car. “If I lose my job it’s on you.”

“Who knows, the commissioner might be mad at you because you got between us. Depends on what kind of dad he is.” His face split into a fox-like grin. “Besides, you should be thanking me. I just got us a backup plan. If you get fired, knowing the commissioner’s daughter would be useful.”

Marinette hummed thoughtfully. “Smart.”

“Thanks, I have my moments.”

“Yeah, ‘moments’ is definitely the word for it.”

He gasped and took a hand off the wheel to give her shoulder a tiny shove. “Rude!”

She just laughed.

It was inevitable that it would happen at some point, but that doesn’t mean that they were happy about it.

Adrien had made a stupid mistake.

He had been alone on patrol. It had been a standard street fight, after all.

He’d seen the flash of Tim’s camera out of the corner of his eyes and looked up at the wrong time. Now he had a bullet in his shoulder, his staff was rolling across the floor, and he’d had to duck for cover behind a car to ensure that the one bullet didn’t turn to twenty.

So the night was already going great.

But then he realized that some of the people had also noticed the flash going off and were now going to investigate.

His day just kept getting better.

He pulled out his phone.

ChatoNoir: H! E8th, Eads. LW, 1?C-K.

HelmetRights: I’m close I’ll help

He breathed out a sigh of relief. His miraculous was the most useful for situations like this.

He brought a hand to his shoulder and flinched a little bit. He had a few minutes before he bled out.

Adrien slowly poked his head around the car. They were all distracted fighting each other...

Good?

He slowly reached out and pulled a nearby body over to him and peeled their shirt off. He needed it more than them right now, anyways. He bandaged his wound and then looked around again, this time searching the ground for his staff.

Ah. It was pretty much in the exact center of all the fighting. Fun.

How about no?

He looked around wildly for inspiration. What to do, what to do, what to do…

He ran out from behind the car and made his way over to the building where he had last seen Tim’s flash. The gang members would likely be there for a while, probably until Jason could come over, and Tim’s situation would get worse by the second. Hopefully the kid had enough sense to hide…

He stepped inside the old office building. Abandoned, probably, there was a thin coating of dust on everything and the only light in the place was a result of the sunlight streaming in through open windows.

He listened in for anyone and winced when he heard a metallic clang above him. He ran up the stairs and looked around.

A kid… was trying to fight… five fully grown gang members…

It was going about as well as you’d expect.

Would it kill people to have even a scrap of common sense?

He flinched when he heard a bone crunch.

Adrien grabbed the nearest desk lamp and looked around. He hooked it around a light and tested the strength…

Not great.

Whatever, he was already injured.

He heard a gunshot outside and breathed a sigh of relief. Jason, probably.

Hopefully...

The gang members looked up at the sound and Adrien took his chance, pressing his hand to the floor and mumbling a Cataclysm.

Black webbed along the floor and it crumbled beneath everyone.

He swung over and grabbed Tim from thin air. Much like he’d expected, the cord snapped under their combined weight and they were in free fall. Adrien pulled the kid to his stomach and flipped them around in the air to make sure he was the only one to actually hit the ground.

Adrien hit the floor and tried not to think about the piece of rubble now lodged in his back and the way the bullet in his shoulder was definitely displaced now and he was bleeding faster and OW.

He released his grip on Tim so his claws wouldn’t dig into him and rested his head back on the cold floor.

“You alright, Tim?”

“Not really.”

He wheezed out a laugh. “Same here.”

He felt Tim shift his weight on top of him and winced mentally at the rubble digging into him, and looked over. It was dark, the sunlight had been clouded by the dust drawn up by the collapse of the second floor. He didn’t know if Tim could see but that was fine. Adrien could.

He slowly pushed himself up and looked for any sign of movement.

He could see a couple of the gang members stirring. He shook his head a little bit and rested a hand on top of Tim’s head. “Stay. I’ll be back.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Don’t care. Stay. Here.”

Tim looked annoyed but he sat himself down and rested his head on his hand. Adrien glanced him over. One of his legs was definitely broken and he was littered with thin cuts and bruises but he seemed otherwise fine.

Maybe his definition of ‘fine’ needed some work…

He pulled his attention back to the people that were getting up and he grabbed a nearby blunt object: a rock!

Well, a piece of the floor, but it was pretty much a rock.

Adrien made his way around with his rock and made sure that everyone would stay down. He didn’t exactly aim to kill but he wasn’t exactly concerned if he ended up doing so.

After a few minutes he walked back over to Tim and he slowly helped him to his feet, letting him sling an arm over him for support as he helped him walk out.

Jason was outside, checking bodies for extra bullets.

He looked up and frowned. “You look awful.”

“Thanks. I have a photoshoot tomorrow and I was really hoping that I would like ‘awful’ for it.”

“No problem.” His eyes found their way to Tim and he rolled his eyes. “So, what, are you adopting him, now?”

Tim frowned. “I… have parents.”

“Barely,” muttered Adrien.

“Mom will kill you if you adopt another kid.”

“I’m not scared of Mari.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Yes, I am.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

He didn’t just want to leave a kid in a bad situation, but Marinette had been annoyed by him adopting Jason…

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid next to him.

“I have a plan.”

“Oh no,” mumbled Jason.

Adrien looked at Tim. “Would you like to live with us?”

Tim thought for a minute, then shrugged. “It would be cool to actually have someone in the house with me.”

“Oh no,” Jason mumbled again, starting to mess with his rings.

Adrien broke into a grin.

“Awesome. Let’s get you home.”

Marinette noticed Tim the moment she walked into the kitchen.

She gave her husband a tired look. “Please tell me you didn’t adopt another one.”

“I didn’t. He has parents, I can’t adopt him.”

Her eyes found Dick’s for confirmation. He gave a small shrug.

She relaxed a little bit. “Good. Why’s he here?”

“He got hurt stalking me, his leg’s all busted up.”

Tim showed her his leg and she winced. They’d set it back into place but all the bandages said that it couldn’t have been a nice experience.

“Sorry about that, sweetie, do you want a cake or something? I can make one.”

Tim smiled. “No, thank you.”

Marinette, who had already been pulling out pans, gave him a confused look. She slowly put the pans back. “Oh… okay.”

“I have a dietician. She’d kill me if I went too far off,” he explained. “But I’ve heard good things about your baking.”

She nodded slowly. “Right.”

Adrien met her eyes hesitantly and she knew that whatever he was going to say she wasn’t going to like it.

“I’m going to train him in self-defense.”

She clicked her tongue. She knew what that meant by now. “You are not making this random child a vigilante. It’s bad enough when we let our own kids do it, he isn’t ours.”

Adrien held up his hands. “He got hurt stalking us. I just don’t want a repeat. I won’t give him a miraculous, okay?”

She frowned suspiciously but nodded that he could do that.

Adrien visibly relaxed.

Marinette took in the bandaging on her husband and she frowned. “How bad is it?”

“Uh… one bullet to the shoulder and some shrapnel got me in the back. Not that bad.”

She nodded and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. “No patrol for a month.”

“But --.”

“No.”

He pouted a little bit but nodded. “Fine. I can still help this kid learn self-defense, though, right?”

She considered this for a minute and then nodded. “Since you’re teaching basics you’re not going to be doing much physically… so, yes. But get help from someone if you want to do anything strenuous.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah.”

Marinette hummed lightly. She glanced at the time. She had a few hours to patrol before Dick confirmed she hadn’t slept in a few days and came to physically knock her out…

She started up the coffee machine.

(Dick narrowed his eyes in the background and started trying to remember when the last time she’d gone to sleep was.)

“Ew, you drink coffee?” Said Tim.

Marinette slowly turned on him, her eyes narrowing. “It keeps you awake.”

Adrien and Dick looked hopeful, probably thinking that Tim would make her realize her caffeine addiction and tendency not to sleep was unhealthy.

And then he spoke: “Sure, but have you tried energy drinks? They taste better and have sugar.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not enough caffeine.”

“You haven’t found Bam, then. Once you get past their political donations they’re GREAT. A 16 ounce can has almost three times as much caffeine as a cup of coffee.”

The other guys went pale.

She broke into a wide grin. “I like you.”

“This was a mistake,” mumbled Adrien.

“Yep! C’mon, Tim, we’re going to the store. I'll help you walk.”

Listen, opening a portal to a pocket dimension wasn’t easy… but he was perfectly willing to do it for his kid.

No. His soon-to-be kid. His wife still hadn’t said yes.

No. His soon-to-be younger housemate. Tim still had legal parents.

Whatever.

It was good, too, the portal was hidden to the naked eye for everyone but him, so there was no worries of Marinette finding out too early.

(Unless she just decided to randomly lean against the wall in the hallway.)

And, as far as pocket dimensions go, it was decent. Empty outside of a few things that Tim had brought over from his house and a lot smaller than any other room in the house... but decent. It didn’t have a single monster living in it, that’s pretty good by pocket dimension standards.

Jason and Dick had both complained when they realized that Tim got a room of his own, even though they knew the circumstances. Adrien was forced to make another.

Was Adrien a little worried that the dimension that they were currently in would become unstable if he opened two portals in close proximity to each other? Yes. But it didn’t collapse on them when he did it, so it’s all good.

There had been a monster in that one.

Adrien was going to be feeling that bite on his arm for the next few years, he thought.

But, hey, at least now everyone had their own rooms. And all the boys seemed happier for it.

Well, Jason still seemed a little annoyed that there was now another kid in the house and Dick was clearly anxious that Marinette would find out and get mad at them and Tim was clearly struggling to understand the whole ‘no longer an only child that lives mostly alone and therefore needs to at least wear pants around the house’ thing, but shhhhhhh avoiding problems is the Agreste forte.

Yes, even Tim Drake was in the practice of avoiding problems.

Adrien figured that if he adopted enough kids eventually one of them would have a good coping mechanism and they could steal that.

But, until then, avoiding problems would have to work.

A routine was forming, and she hated it.

She’d go to work for a large part of the day, and then get picked up by Dick. She’d spend about two hours in the break room drinking the free coffee and scrolling through her phone so her son could chat up the commissioner’s daughter. She’d grab him by the arm with some vague excuse about how they needed to get home. She’d get dropped off at random places in Gotham and start on patrols. She’d get home early in the morning and chug another few cans of Bam with Tim.

Then she’d start it all over again.

But she’d hated it more when the routine was suddenly broken.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and nearly tore the file she was looking through in half in her surprise. It surely couldn’t be time for Dick to pick her up yet…

She looked over at her computer for the time and her eyes caught the reflection of Barbara on the black screen.

Marinette slowly turned around. “Hey.”

“Can I talk with you in private?”

She tried not to tense up. Most of the time when people say that you’re in trouble. She didn’t want to get in trouble with the boss’s daughter.

“Mhmm!” She handed the file over to Ross to hold onto and then followed Barbara down a few halls and up to the roof. She sent Tikki out to check for people and relaxed a little bit when the kwami shook their head no. Maybe this could just be about Dick --.

“Do you not like me?”

She blanked. “Huh? I… what? No. Do you think I’d stay after to let my son flirt with you every day if I didn’t?”

“No, but then I have to question why you always cut us short.”

“We have stuff to do at home.”

She shrugged. “But you hardly ever go home.”

Marinette took a cautious step back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Dick never seem to go the same way twice when you leave.”

“You watch that?”

She shrugged again. “Of course. At first I thought it had something to do with traffic or errands, but then why would you always list a home activity?”

“Because what we do at our house is none of your concern,” said Marinette.

Barbara smiled. “You know, I work at the library.”

She tried not to frown at the change of subject. It was weird, but at least it had moved away from where she went at night.

“Alright.”

“I know your other son, Jason. He comes by pretty frequently with his dad.”

“Alright.”

“Want to tell me why he and I have had long conversations about how we hate cops?”

Marinette wanted to punch something. Still, she forced a smile. “It’s perfectly normal for kids to take opposite stances about things than their parents. Just like you and your dad.”

“Sure, but then why do you act like you hate cops?”

Wow. Even the commissioner's daughter knew she hated being a cop. She really needed to brush up on her acting skills… or get new ones. She didn’t know if she’d ever been good at acting.

“Listen, I know you’re planning to take this place down, I’m not stupid. I won’t rat you out, I want in.”

Well, that was a development.

Marinette narrowed her eyes slightly. “Really? Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m dating your son, maybe?”

“YOU’RE DATING?!”

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?!”

Both women immediately pulled out their phones and started texting Dick. Nothing bonds people better than anger and they were both ready to kill.

MA: come to the precinct please

#1Sweetie: kjsklfjdskfjdks does this have anything to do with barbara texting me at the same time

MA: yes

#1Sweetie: i’ll be right there

MA: were on the roof

Dick deleted and then retyped his message four times before sending:

#1Sweetie: fun can’t wait

For someone who ‘can’t wait’ he sure took his sweet time, though.

Now, if it was only Marinette that was mad, it probably would have just blown over. However, Barbara wasn’t an Agreste. She actually knew how to deal with problems.

When Dick finally managed to get up to the roof, he found the two women glaring at him.

“So, care to explain why you didn’t tell me you were dating Barbara?” Marinette said with a bright smile.

Dick looked to the side and then brought a smile to his face. “I was just waiting for the right time to announce it.”

They both shared skeptical looks and then looked back at him.

“Okay, fine. It’s because I didn’t want to be the one to bring another person into the house, Mari would’ve killed me.”

Marinette accepted that answer. Fair enough. She would have. If Marinette and Adrien not had jobs they might have been able to keep up with three (and a half including Tim, who was around enough because of his stalking and self-defense lessons for her to somewhat count him) other people in their house, but she doubted that they could fully parent three kids with both their civilian and vigilante jobs.

Dick relaxed a little and walked over to the women, taking a seat in front of them. “Are we alright?”

They both gave him nods, then gave each other wary looks.

Marinette glanced at the time. “I’ll be back to talk more about this after work. Meet us at the car?”

A few hours later, they all filed into the car. Dick and Barbara took the back seat and Marinette angled her mirror to watch them just in case.

“Right, where are you on your investigation?” Asked Barbara.

“She knows --?”

“Yep, you’re behind, sweetie.” Marinette glanced at the mirror and found Dick messing with a rubix cube and Barbara listening intently. “Right now we’re searching for proof of corruption in the police force. The higher up I can get the easier it will be to actually have people prosecuted.”

“... are you having any trouble with getting proof?”

She shrugged. “Unfortunately. It’s not like they document when they let someone go and it’s way too easy to claim that people were all bloody before they got there.”

Barbara frowned. “Take pictures.”

“Cops are stupid, but they’re not that stupid. If I take out a camera they’re going to notice.”

“Write it down yourself, then.”

“It’s my word against theirs.”

Barbara groaned. Marinette could relate. She’d been struggling to find any kind of proof that wouldn’t immediately be traced back to her for over a month now.

And all she needed was proof, really. She knew that Barbara’s dad, at least, wasn’t a bad cop. He was just, somehow, painfully unaware of the corruption in his precinct. If given proof of a person’s corruption he would, at the very least, fire them.

“Doesn’t help that the kind of people that the police let go are usually killed by one of the vigilantes before they get to the police,” added Dick.

“And, even if we were the kind of people that vigilantes talked to, it’s not like they could stop killing those people without everyone getting suspicious.”

“... I’m beginning to think this might be impossible.”

She gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Probably.” She pulled up in her driveway and blinked a few times. “Um… sorry for kidnapping you.”

“It’s cool, I wanted to ask Jason about some of his books.”

“Are they overdue?”

Barbara smiled. “Yep. I need to know if he lost it or if I should just recheck it out for him.”

Marinette nodded absently. “Cool. Dick, drive her home when she’s done? I need to go grocery shopping.”

She waved at them and then got out of the car, tossing the keys to Dick without either of them glancing over. With that, she head off for patrols.

Adrien blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing this.

Dick had a girlfriend. Who was the commissioner's daughter. Who was also a librarian at the library that he and Jason frequented.

And she knew about the whole ‘trying to take down random people in the police force so Marinette can advance and prosecute people properly’ thing.

But not the vigilante thing. The vigilante thing was too far, apparently.

He needed to sit down for a minute.

Adrien pulled a knee to his chest from his spot on the counter.

Jason had been the most blunt: “Did dad adopt you, too?”

“I have parents.”

“That didn’t stop him from adopting Tim.”

“I’m also dating your brother, that would mess things up.”

Jason relaxed a little bit when he realized that Adrien wouldn’t adopt her… and then he laughed. “Wait, you’re dating Dickwad?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you had taste.”

Barbara and Jason grinned at each other, much to Dick’s annoyance.

“Adrien! They’re being rude!” He complained.

He shrugged absently. “I don’t control them.”

“You can control Jason! He’s your kid! Take away his trust fund or something!”

“WAIT WHAT NO --.”

Adrien cut him off by laughing. “That would be funny but I doubt Mari would be alright with that.”

Tim walked in with a can of Bam and some instant coffee mix. Everyone watched in horror as he started pouring the Bam into the water part of the coffee maker.

“Hey, Timmy, whatcha doing?” Asked Adrien, despite being very sure he did not want to hear the answer.

Tim looked up. “Experiment.”

“I thought you didn’t like the taste of coffee, though…”

“It’ll be worth it for the extra caffeine.”

Jason laughed a little bit. “You’re going to die. Go ahead, though, I want to see it happen.”

Dick and Adrien met eyes. They needed to destroy that thing and also maybe find a way to block Marinette and Tim from getting to the store.

They nodded at each other before getting to work pulling Tim away from his creation.

Marinette hummed as she finished off the fourth cake she’d baked and decorated with a flourish.

She started washing the dishes she’d just used because she had run out of free pans to bake with and she couldn’t restart until they were washed.

Dick groaned from the doorway, holding his head as he slowly made his way inside.

“Good morning, sweetie.”

He groaned again and then apparently caught sight of the cakes on the table. He frowned a little bit. “Um…”

“I made a vanilla cake for you. It’s the one with the buttercream flowers.”

Dick hesitated for a minute before shrugging and sitting down with the cake. “Thanks, mom, but are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“... mom… as much as I love your cakes, you only bake this much when you’re stressed.”

She clicked her tongue. “Sweetie… I doubt you’ll be able to think of a solution if Adrien, Barbara, and I couldn’t think of something.”

“You went to Barbara and not me? Come on! At least let me try.”

She doubted that he could be of any help but whatever. If she told him and he couldn’t come up with something then he’d leave the subject alone, and if he came up with something then they’d have a solution. Win-win. Kinda.

“I have no clue how we’re going to get proof that people are corrupt.”

Dick thought for a minute, then shrugged. “Have someone join the mob. Any mob. There has to be at least a few moles. Take a few pictures or collect names and then take them to the commissioner.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “Can’t, no one has enough time.”

“I do.”

“Sure, but you’re a kid and we’re not letting a kid join the mob.”

Dick huffed. “I’m twenty-three.”

“You don’t have any skills that the mob is looking for.”

“I’m a lawyer, they’d love to have me.”

“No.”

“But --!”

“NO, RICHARD!”

Dick flinched a little bit and looked down. He gave a quiet groan of irritation and pushed himself out of his chair. He took his cake to his room.

She closed her eyes. The problem would be gone by morning, but that didn’t mean that she liked that they’d fought.

She opened her eyes again and started pulling down ingredients.

Adrien knew that Marinette would catch on soon. It had been months since the incident, Tim was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was pretty sure the only reason that she hadn’t noticed anything was because her schedule was so messed up that she wasn’t registering time right.

He knew he should tell her but he couldn’t bring himself to. What if she kicked Tim out? What if she made him stop seeing the kid entirely? He couldn’t let that happen, the kid had gone through enough. No, he would have to wait for the perfect moment.

If she didn’t find out first.

Marinette walked into the kitchen in the morning and everyone tensed and glanced at Tim, who was casually playing a video game and definitely not learning self-defense.

Adrien sighed. Could he say he was just making sure Tim ate so he wouldn’t pass out? Would she believe that?

She walked over to the fridge and grabbed a can of Bam and then glanced back at the boys, her eyes glazed with exhaustion.

Then she gave every boy in the room a kiss on the cheek.

Yes, even Tim.

“I’ll be back after work. Are you picking me up like usual, sweetie?”

Dick blinked a few times and then stifled laughter with his hand. Once he’d managed to get his voice under control, he spoke: “Yep! I can’t wait to see Babs.”

“Gross. Right, I’m heading out.”

Everyone watched in stunned silence as she walked out.

Jason’s face soured.

And then he snapped his fingers. “I got it… HEY, MOM! YOU FORGOT THAT ROSS BROKE THE COFFEE MACHINE AT WORK!”

There was a beat.

“Jay, what the heck?” Hissed Adrien.

Marinette walked back in. “Guess who has been promoted to favorite.”

Dick gasped. “Wait, I was favorite beforehand?”

“No, Adrien was. I’m not telling you which kid was winning.”

“Hold up, I’ve been replaced as favorite over caffeine?”

Marinette nodded. She stole Tim’s laptop bag from him and then set three cans of the energy drink inside.

“Great, I’m off for real now.”

Jason slammed his head on the table, partially pulling his mother out of her stupor. “OH MY KWAMI. Mom. Tim has been living with us --.”

Adrien had clamped his hand over the kid’s mouth, but it was too late.

Marinette’s eyes slowly found their way to Tim and her face shifted from bored to angry in half a second.

He swallowed thickly. “M’lady, I can explain.”

“Please do.”

He hesitated. He hadn’t thought he’d get this far.

Her grip tightened on the strap of her bag when her phone went off in her pocket. She bit her lip and shook her head. She told her boss that she would be late because of a family matter, her eyes never leaving his.

He gave his most award-winning smile.

The kids filed out, though they both knew that they were going to just stand outside the door to listen in.

“Adrien, Tim has parents. You realize you essentially kidnapped that kid.”

“He went willingly!”

“Tell that to the cops!” She gave a bitter laugh. “Wait, you already are!”

He winced. “I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t just leave him with his parents, though, they suck.”

Marinette clicked her tongue. “We can’t keep him. He isn’t ours and, even if he was, we hardly have the time to take care of three kids!”

“Dick can take care of himself, he’s an adult. So we’re back down to two! Actually, he can help take care of Tim, too, so less than two!”

“Remember when we said we wouldn’t have any?!”

“But we did fine!”

She groaned. “You’re not getting my point!”

“And you’re not getting mine! We can’t just leave that kid to suffer!”

“He’d suffer if he was with us, too!”

“He deserves people that love him to take care of him!”

“So does every kid on Earth! Are you going to adopt them all?!”

He rolled his eyes. “I want to but we have a limit... but this isn’t it! We’ve been doing just fine so far! He’s attached to us, we can’t just throw him out now!”

“I can’t let this one slide because I keep letting kids come in. It has to stop.”

“This is the last one,” he promised.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“But I mean it this time.”

She scrutinized him for a long time, her lips pressed tightly together.

And then she clicked her tongue.

“Last one,” she muttered, pulling a new can from her bag and then turning. “I’ll see you after work.”

He watched her leave. He should say something, he should call her back and apologize, he should at least admit that what he was doing was wrong…

The front door slammed.

He slowly fell back into a chair and rested his face in his hands… only to realize it was wet. How long had he been crying? He breathed out a sigh.

He could feel eyes on him. He peeked between his fingers and saw the kids standing in the doorway, mouths slightly agape. He wiped his face on his sleeve and brought a smile back to his face.

Jason messed with his rings as he turned around and walked to his room.

“You didn’t want kids?” Asked Dick quietly.

His smile slid from his face.

“Not exactly. We wanted kids, but we figured we’d never be able to have them. I’m sorry it came out that way.”

Dick relaxed a little bit.

Adrien pushed himself up and walked over to Tim, resting a hand on top of his head.

“Right, welcome to the family, officially.”

Marinette rested her head on her desk.

“Um…?” Began Ross.

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

“Okay.”

She heard his fingers get back to work on his keyboard and closed her eyes.

She’d officially hit a wall. What she needed was to get her hands on the security camera’s footage but she knew that they simply turned off the cameras when they let someone go.

Her mind wandered to Tim.

She bit her lip and sat up, pulling up a new tab and searching up “Haly’s Circus Dick Grayson” but, to her surprise, she found that any footage of her son during his time there had been scrubbed clean.

So, the kid had been telling the truth?

Well, he might be able to fix her current problem…

And, honestly, she was pretty much desensitized to the idea of a kid vigilante at this point. Partially because their family was up to four people who started being vigilantes as kids and partially because Dick and Jason had saved Marinette and Adrien quite a few times.

Besides, like it or not Tim was in the family now. That’s pretty much the main requirement, it seems.

That night she approached Tim about hacking.

“Right, what exactly would you need to hack into the police station security cameras?”

He frowned. “Probably a new computer that isn’t linked to me as a person. And I’d probably need to be inside the security room for a while, or at least the building.”

She thought about this for a minute and nodded. “Okay. I can get you that. Anything else?”

“Can I have a miraculous?”

She waved her hand vaguely. “Yeah, I was going to give you one anyways so we don’t have to do as much to delete footage… I was thinking the horse miraculous. Then you could get in and out of rooms pretty easily.”

“Cool. What are we trying to do, anyways?”

“Keep them from turning off the cameras when they need to do…” She trailed off, pursing her lips tightly. She knew this kid was around thirteen or fourteen, surely he knew all the kinds of things that went down at the GCPD, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. “... stuff.”

Tim nodded slightly. “I can do that, but I’d need to hide some kind of generator in the room. They might be unplugging the cameras to turn them off, I’d need to change some plugs around.”

“Great.”

They clinked their cans of energy drink together in a sort of toast.

Adrien should have expected something to go wrong.

Barbara and Dick had convinced the commissioner to go out to eat with them. Dick was now stressed for two reasons: the mission and the fact that he was officially meeting the parents.

Marinette had cleared a good amount of the precinct by offering to buy drinks. Even if her relationship with the precinct was… less than friendly, few people said no to free drinks paid for by the richest person there. This was mostly just to make sure people weren’t going to do overtime.

And Jason had drawn away the people currently on shift by ‘accidentally’ bowling over an abandoned building while on patrols.

Now it was just up to Adrien and Tim.

There was obviously a few people still there, it would have been too much to hope that the entire place would be empty. It didn’t matter, though, no one was suspicious of them. After all, Marinette would need a ride home and it wasn’t as if he could take Tim to a bar to wait.

And no one was suspicious of the fact that Tim had quickly pulled out his computer to ‘play some games’. Adrien had pulled out his phone as well, mostly to monitor the chats and make sure everyone was doing alright but also because he was bored.

A half hour later he got a tiny tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Tim shaking his head.

Great. On to plan B.

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?”

They transformed in the bathroom and looked at each other nervously. They’d wanted plan A to work because it wouldn’t draw any attention to the security room…

Tim opened a portal inside and they stepped through. It was only two guys, and Adrien made quick work of them. He tied them up in some spare cables he found and pushed himself back to his feet.

Tim just waved him off and opened a portal for him.

He grinned as he dropped onto the floor of the main room. He looked around casually at the ten people that were still there. One of them was in just charge of guarding the prison, but the other nine were cops.

He tipped his head from side to side, weighing his chances as the cops began pulling out their guns.

Hm. This was much scarier when they could actually see him.

“Don’t move from that spot!”

Adrien raised his eyebrows, glancing at the officer who’d said it. Officer Ross. Of course.

He gave a tiny shrug. “If you say so.”

He extended his staff and smiled when it hit the cop nearest him in the face.

Then Adrien hooked it under a desk and tossed it at Ross.

Great. Now that he had spited that guy, he swung his weapon in a wide arc and took out the lights.

He smiled brightly at the now dark room and looked around as the cops scrambled. Some had already done this before and others had heard the story, but no one was looking for a repeat except for Adrien. He extended his staff to get to the ceiling and considered the people below...

A few of them shot blindly at where he had just been, which was a terrible idea but whatever.

He made his way through the room. He wasn’t killing anyone, though it was tempting after hearing some of Marinette’s stories, just opting to their weapons and moving onto the next person.

He also maybe broke some bones in the process. It happens.

A few minutes later he started making his way back to the security room and he grinned when he saw Tim coming out. He had his laptop under his arm. They’d succeeded.

Adrien took a quick look around and spotted a security camera. “Got it?”

“No, they deleted everything,” he lied.

He forced himself to frown (it was surprisingly hard to do after years of smiling for every camera he saw). “Dang. Guess we’ll need a new plan then. Let’s get home.”

Tim opened a portal back to the bathroom and they detransformed. They waited a few minutes before Adrien slowly peeked his head out the door. He held Tim behind him protectively as they walked through the precinct.

They got to the main room and found everyone groaning. A few of them had found flashlights or had turned on computers for lights.

“Is everyone okay? I heard gunshots!” Said Adrien, frowning.

Officer Ross, whose arm was bent at an odd angle, gave the kindest smile he could. “It’s fine, we just had a vigilante come by. It seems like everything is done, now, though.”

Adrien nodded a little bit.

“Good. Everything’s done.”

Marinette was one of ten people who didn’t get a jail sentence.

Now, she eyed the two-weeks notice on her desk. No one would be suspicious if she decided to leave. Fifty people had gone to jail, no one wants to stick around to see if they’re next.

Commissioner Gordon had resigned, too. Something about how he was disgusted about being so blind.

She bit her lip as she sat there at her desk, her computer on a How To video on quitting if you technically had no boss. Unfortunately, it seemed that she had phrased the question wrong because now it was telling her how to shut down a sole proprietorship.

“Agreste?”

She paused the video and looked up, her head tipping to the side as she took the man in. She knew that she knew him from somewhere, but her brain couldn’t seem to place a name to the face. “That’s me.”

“Could I speak to you alone for a minute?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.”

“I was thinking the roof? That’s a pretty private place, don’t you think?”

She pursed her lips tightly. She did not like where this was going in the slightest. “Well, sometimes people take their smoke break up there --.”

“Don’t worry, I know there’s no one up there.”

“Oh. Great.”

“Isn’t it?”

She nodded, letting him lead the way to the roof.

Her hand dipped into her back pocket and she cursed herself out mentally when she realized it was still on her desk. She wondered if she could get away with asking to go back for it. Somehow, she doubted it.

Marinette closed the door behind them.

She smiled at the man. “You wanted to talk?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Agreste.” He turned and flashed her a blinding smile. “Why don’t you guess what’s going on?”

“Well… I assume I’m in trouble,” she said carefully. Her eyes searched nearby rooftops and windows. “And that you have at least one person around that could kill me, probably a sniper since you chose a rooftop and not an alley.”

“Correct!” He said. He turned away from her and started pacing around. “What do you think you’re in trouble for?”

She hummed as if in thought. “You seem to be the one asking all the questions. Mind if I at least know who you are?”

“I asked you a question first.”

She forced a tiny laugh. “Sure, but no one likes admitting when they do things wrong. Besides, what if I fess up to the wrong thing? Then I have two reasons for you to want to kill me.”

“Just. Guess.”

Hm…

He couldn’t know about her being Ladybug, they’d done too much to make sure no one knew her identity. No one outside of Dick had ever done anything that could be traced back to them, and all that footage was gone from the internet forever.

Then what could he have found out about?

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

He scrutinized her face for a minute before frowning and shaking his head. “Agoura.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Antony Agoura.”

Oh. Oh fuck.

Well, at least now she knew where she’d seen him before?

He folded his hands in front of him, smiling at her. “I see you know me.”

“Of course I do.”

He nodded. “Good. Now, I want to ask you a question.”

“Another one?” She said quietly.

“Mhmm. I’d like to know if you think I’m stupid.”

“Of course not.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, the day that Chat Noir bust into the police station was odd.”

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“Yep! Odd, don’t you think? Someone who previously didn’t get along with her coworkers suddenly decides to take them all out for free drinks. That same night, her son takes the commissioner out to dinner. The precinct was almost completely empty thanks to your family.”

Great. That was why that was plan B. She was screwed.

She nodded slightly, her throat tightening. “You don’t say…”

“And, on top of that, the vigilantes were acting weird! I mean, they were all set on distracting people and keeping them as far away as possible!”

“That’s… odd.”

“Mhmm!” He smiled and rested a hand on her shoulder. “An interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”

She nodded again, fighting the urge to shrug him off. “Yeah.”

He steered her to the door. “I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion, by the way.”

“The…?”

“Being commissioner is such an honor!”

She scoffed. “You couldn’t get away with that. I’m the newest person here, it’s too suspicious.”

“You think?”

“Yeah --.”

He opened the door and she fought the urge to flinch at all the cameras suddenly flashing in her face.

“Congratulations!”

“How do you feel about being the first commissioner of asian descent?”

Her eyes widened. Oh. So, it turns out Agoura definitely could get away with that.

She glanced to the side to see the cops who had been there longer clapping with sarcastic smiles on their faces. “Congrats!” Said one in a tone that definitely said that she was dead.

The mob boss moved his grip to hug her to his side, smiling brightly and waving at the press.

“Smile for the cameras, Agreste.”

~~~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64 @dahjokester @jjmjjktth

#adrienette #adrien agreste #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #maribat #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin

66 notes · View notes

darter-blue · 4 years

Text

okay so I reached 300 followers today - and in appreciation for putting up with me and my silly blog you all get a little gift!

Here is 2k words of Stucky fluff just for you, dear followers. Thanks for all your love.

Worth it

Bucky is pretty sure that this was a terrible idea. Every single date he’s ever been on in his life has been a disaster. How he could have possibly been persuaded to believe that not one date but twenty dates, in succession, in increments of ten minutes a pop - speed dating, his best friend had called it with a smile intended to deceive, but torture, might be a better descriptive - would be in any way a good idea is beyond him. It felt like extreme dating in the same way that ironing over a cliff face was extreme ironing, dangerous and nauseating. And Bucky had always preferred to just live with the wrinkles thanks. Anything that required more care than, ‘stick it in the dryer on high and wear it immediately’, was not a piece of clothing that ever made it past the first wash.

He felt kind of the same about dating.

Anyway. However he looked at it, this was not the ‘opportunity to meet someone great’ he had been promised. This was just a faster, more efficient way for Bucky to get stepped on. To meet people who saw his looks and smiled and then spent the remainder of the date growing increasingly disappointed with the reality of his personality.

Well. At the very least, Nat was going to owe him that fifty bucks. Because not one of the guys he had met so far would ever put Bucky down as a potential match.

But finally it feels like, after too many beers and way too many sweaty, lingering hand shakes, Bucky has finally been through all twenty dates. And thank god. So far, over the course of the night, he’s been told he should speak up more, to smile more, to put his hair up, to sit straighter, to talk less about math, and to seriously reconsider his fashion choices. He is so fucking ready to go home he has his keys already in his hand. But while he drains the last of his bottle and prepares to get up from his chair and run (before the speed dating organiser can grab him for his card and his ‘insights’), someone new sits down gracefully into the seat opposite him.

Somebody he doesn’t remember from the introductions.

And he’s looking up from where tight blue jeans around thick thighs have slid into the seat, up to a broad chest in a t-shirt that has to be two sizes too small, up to shoulders so wide they could carry a bus, and up, up, up to the most beautiful face Bucky has ever seen in real life. Or at all, in anything maybe.

It’s ridiculously unfair how attractive this man is.

His dark blond hair is long and swept back. His skin is golden against a dark, full beard that frames his high cheekbones and pink lips. His eyes are the kind of blue that only exists in magazines. And he’s smiling. A real, enthusiastic smile.

At Bucky.

Bucky looks down to make sure he’s been drinking light beer - and not something heavy enough to have him hallucinating. The label is just the cheap crappy stuff that the dating company provided. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t been spiked, though, he doesn’t feel dizzy.

He looks back up at the guy and he seems to have deflated a little at Bucky’s less than stellar response. Which… well, that’s basically the story of his life.

Bucky raises an eyebrow but chooses not to say anything (what would he even say, besides hello. Okay hello would be a good start. But he’d just mumble it anyway. And fuck it up like he always does)

But the guy is not deterred.

‘Hey,’ he says, dialling the smile back up, ‘How’s it going?’

Bucky looks at the guy, this perfect, gorgeous guy, looks around for the moderator, at the other daters, at the general public inhabiting the rest of the bar, and tries to figure out whether he’s being punked or something.

‘Umm…’ Bucky looks back to the guy and tries to find a word, any word, to help him figure out what is happening. ‘Hi?’ His brain is apparently not cooperating.

‘Hi,’ the guy replies, his smile, somehow, getting brighter as he does. He holds a hand out across the table to Bucky, long, strong fingers, and a wide palm. Perfectly manicured fingernails. And how are even his hands beautiful. ‘I’m Steve.’

Bucky reaches out his own hand, nails bitten down and blue ink stained into the cracks, shaking the outstretched palm and feeling himself want to linger in the warmth and softness of the guy’s shake. ‘Bucky.’

‘Bucky?’

‘Nickname,’ Bucky says automatically. But the guy doesn’t seem put off by the tone. If anything, his smile seems to widen at the answer.

‘It’s cute,’ the guy, Steve, says with a low, husky laugh, ‘Bucky.’

‘Umm… thanks?’ Bucky says, raising his eyebrow even further. ‘You don’t... ‘ he starts, and then clears his throat, the nerves getting to him, making his throat itchy, ‘I don’t remember you from the introductions.’

‘Oh yeah, no. I’m not part of the group,’ Steve says with a wave of his hand, dismissing the notion, ‘I’m here with some friends.’ He gestures to a bunch of guys at the bar, looking like some kind of movie star football team, pretending not to be watching their buddy do… whatever it is Steve is doing here.

‘Are you… Did you need something, or…’ Bucky is rambling now, nervous as to what Steve might be doing if he’s not here for a torturous ten minute date.

‘Your number?’ Steve says, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow of his own.

‘My what?’ Bucky says without thinking.

‘Your phone number?’ Steve repeats, looking a little less cocky now, ‘You know, so I could call you sometime.’

And Bucky is frozen for a moment, his mouth open, his eyebrows raised. Probably not a good look at all. He snaps his mouth shut and tucks a strand of his dark wavy shoulder length hair behind an ear. Buying himself some time. ‘You aren’t part of the speed dating group?’

‘Uh-uh,’ Steve says, shaking his head.

‘You’re here with your friends?’ Bucky asks, trying to pin this all down.

Steve nods.

‘And you just came over here to get my number?’

‘I did.’

‘My number?’ Bucky asks incredulously.

‘Absolutely.’ Steve says. And that tone leaves no room for argument.

It sends a little shiver down Bucky’s spine to be honest. The first time all night he’s felt any flash of heat.

‘Why?’ Bucky asks. He knows you're not supposed to ask that. But, well, Bucky certainly wouldn’t be here if he was any good at meeting people, flirting, or being on a date in the first place.

‘Hmm…’ Steve says, placing one lovely finger against his bottom lip in mock contemplation. ‘Let me see. I’ve been sitting over there,’ he points back to his recently abandoned spot at the bar, ‘Watching losers come and go from this table all night,’ Steve drops his hand and leans forward, ‘Asking you the stupidest fucking questions I’ve ever heard asked, talking over you,’ he’s picking up speed now and Bucky is helplessly fascinated by the way Steve’s blue eyes are almost glowing with fervour, ‘Not appreciating one goddamn thing you’ve had to say. Not laughing at that hilarious crack about obtuse angles, and not treating you with the kind of reverence that you deserve.’

Bucky is watching Steve rant about how awful his dates have been, hears him unabashedly complimenting his math humour, feels his genuine affability crash over him, and it starts to hit Bucky that maybe this guy is actually serious.

Maybe this glorious man is actually interested in asking Bucky on a real fucking date.

‘Also,’ Steve says, Bucky suddenly and sharply focused back to his words as Steve’s voice drops to a sinfully deep register, ‘You are definitely the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen in my life.’

And whoa.

Bucky blinks. And tilts his head in confusion. He can’t be serious… can he?

‘You came to a speed dating night in a sweater vest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more adorable.’

‘You’re joking,’ Bucky says. Because every single person who sat down at his table tonight, once they got past the long hair and the pretty face, had bemoaned his choice of outfit for the evening. (Even Nat had told him to lose the vest).

‘I am deadly serious,’ Steve says. And the heat in his eyes as he looks at Bucky is evidence of his sincerity.

‘You know I’m a total nerd.’

‘I can tell that you’re brilliant,’ Steve counters, ‘You’re like a mathematical genius.’

‘I talk to my pot plants,’ Bucky says, leaning forward in his seat.

‘I love that,’ Steve says without hesitation, smile growing wider by the second, ‘You can’t scare me away Bucky.’

‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ Bucky says, and it’s true, ‘I’m just trying to preempt your eventual disappointment.’

But Steve is shaking his head. He laughs that low husky laugh and looks up at Bucky through beautifully dark, long eyelashes. ‘A, I could not be disappointed by you if you tried, and B, can I get your number? Cause I’d really like to call you.’

Bucky can feel himself smiling, by some minor miracle. He can feel a flush spread through his cheeks. He can see the other daters getting up to hand over their cards. None of them have spared a glance back at Bucky, though plenty of them have given Steve a second look.

He looks back to Steve, who’s now pouting his pink lips at Bucky, just enough to make Bucky actually laugh out loud. ‘Yeah, okay, sure. You can have my number,’ Bucky says, accepting Steve’s phone as he hands it over and adding himself in the contacts as ‘Math nerd - Bucky’ really wanting to make sure Steve remembers what he’s getting himself into if he ever actually tries to call him.

Steve takes his phone back and immediately calls the number, Bucky can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulls it out to show Steve that it's ringing, and Steve shrugs his giant shoulders and laughs again. ‘Just checking.’

‘Well-’ Bucky says.

‘So-’ Steve says at the same time.

They both laugh, but Bucky gestures for Steve to go first.

‘I was just ah, wondering if you might be free right now?’

And oh, Bucky’s heart skips a little at the question. And the hopeful, nervous look that Steve is giving him right now. He looks down at his watch. It’s ten, but it’s Saturday tomorrow. He has no classes. Nowhere to be.

‘Yes,’ Bucky says, and Steve breathes out with a smile, ‘I’m free now.’

‘Great let me just…’ Steve gestures back to his friends and Bucky nods.

He’s expecting Steve to just drag him over to the group and maybe buy him another beer. But Steve is waving to his friends, slapping a few shoulders, laughing and ducking his head. He’s grabbing his jacket and jogging back to Bucky.

‘You like ice cream?’ He asks Bucky as he reaches him.

‘Yeah, I like ice cream,’ Bucky replies, tilting his head, still a little confused but mostly charmed by this gorgeous, strangely sweet man he’s just met.

‘Cool. I know this great ice cream place.’ And he takes Bucky’s hand to lead him through and out of the bar. Past the daters and the organisers who are looking at him with surprise. Smiling back at Bucky as he checks to make sure he’s got everything.

And something in Bucky is melting.

But also he’s a little pissed.

Cause it looks like he’s going to have to fork out that fifty bucks to Nat after all.

Only one more look at the guy who’s got his hand in his soft warm grip and Bucky can’t even be mad. It’s totally worth it.

Steve is totally worth all of it.

#stucky #steve x bucky #quick fic #fluff #speed dating #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve/bucky #1 - 2k words #my fics #300 followers #you all get a present

174 notes · View notes

antidotenurse · 3 years

Text

Zexal III - Black Mist’s Return

Here’s a little fic that I wrote about Kanna and Black Mist’s first meeting and alliance! 3.3k words! Enjoy! ~ Sasstral

The first thing he became aware of was his sudden sense of freedom, like severing his arms from puppet strings. In an instant, he was falling to whatever ground there was below, and it must have been a long way away because he felt as if he was falling for eternity.

Wherever he was, it was far away from where he was going to end up.

He crawled, his form resembling that of liquid, across the cold ground, desperately searching for sanctuary in the unknown world he found himself in.

His powers already growing too weak for him to continue on, he found the asylum he had so yearned for in the form of a mansion. It held a certain energy within it, one that willed him forward with its strong presence.

The unbearable weakness he felt before began to melt away once he entered the very room all the chaos was flowing rampantly through.

He slid into the deck resting against a nightstand, curling up within it, he let himself lose consciousness, a form of stasis as he embraced the feeling of being safe.

A card appeared within the deck as the creature settled, it was Number 96: Black Mist.

…

Kanna Hino woke up before her alarm every morning. One of the first lessons her parents ever taught her was that tardiness was unacceptable and unprofessional, whether for school or ballet practice. She made it a goal of hers to avoid being tardy and to be as professional as one girl could possibly be.

She stretched every morning, starting from her arms and then down to her legs, keeping up good form was also important and very professional.

Every morning she’d sort through her deck, sometimes changing out cards with new ones so her moves never become too predictable, another very professional quirk of hers that she congratulates herself for.

She sat down in the chair by her vanity dresser and began sorting through them. Everything was just as she organized it the day before until she came across a card she didn’t recognize.

She held it up closer and muttered to herself quietly, “What is this?”

Suddenly, a cloud of black smoke emerged from the card and formed into a person, floating just above the floor in her room.

She sat there frozen until the being looked right at her, one eye gold and the other completely black.

Kanna let out a shrill scream, fell backward off her chair, stumbled upwards and began throwing whatever was on her dresser at the figure who stood there unfazed as the objects quite literally phased right through it.

“Are you done yet?” It asked her as it saw her running out of items to toss.

“What are you?” Kanna finally asked, gathering her calmness back and presenting herself as confident once more.

“I am not quite sure myself.” It admitted to her, it picked up the number card from the floor and mysteriously enough it was the only thing that it could touch, “I believe this is part of me.”

“Oh, so you’re a freaky card spirit.” Kanna concluded, it was the only logical explanation she could gather out of such a bizarre moment, and that was a stretch as it is. “What are you doing here anyway? I didn’t pick up your stupid card and I don’t want to be haunted.”

“I am not sure about that either.” The spirit answered, it’s eyes gazing around the room as if it had just noticed where it was.

“You have no idea how you got here?,” Kanna asked, “Into my room?”

“I remember sensations and emotions but that is all. I believe I may have unconsciously sought your room out due to its intense levels of negative energy.” The spirit said, not paying much attention to her angered expression, “It helped rebuilt my body, but unfortunately I am still incomplete.”

“Yeah, well, that sure is unfortunate but I can’t help you with that. You can take all the negative energy in this room with you when you leave.” Kanna scoffed angrily, picking her hairbrush up from off the floor and running it through her hair.

She didn’t expect to hear soft laughter following her response, still, she refused to look at the being.

“I see, so all the negative energy is coming from you.” The being pointed out.

Kanna stopped what she was doing and took a deep breath, “Why won’t you just leave already? I don’t have time to waste on you.”

“I cannot, you and I are bound together until I restore my memory and gain the ability to leave this world.” The being said.

“Hey, that isn’t fair! I didn’t even agree to help you, why should I?” Kanna questioned him.

“So long as you are the holder of my number, I am yours, if you do not like that arrangement perhaps I could make it the other way around. How about having you belong to me?” The being sneered at her, but Kanna quickly took charge.

“I’m in charge here, no freaky amnesiac card spirit is going to take control of me!” Kanna spoke with strength, the being looked as though he saw it admirable, “So once you get your memories back, you leave my life for good. I want to get back to normalcy as soon as possible.”

“Sounds like a wonderful deal to me.” The being agreed.

“So, do you remember your name?” Kanna asked after a moment of silence.

“I am Number 96: Black Mist.”

“That sounds like a mouthful…How about I just call you Mist.”

“If that is what you desire.”

“What I desire is for you to leave my room so I can get dressed.”

Black Mist stared blankly at her for a moment after she said that, “What difference does it make?”

Kanna stood and pointed towards the door, “Out.” She insisted.

Black Mist complied and left the room, only to poke his head through moments later. Kanna screamed at him and launched another item towards where his body had phased halfway through the door. He pulled back as the object hit the door with a loud thud.

Below the hallway banister, Black Mist witnessed an elderly woman look right through him.

“Kanna, darling, are you alright?” The woman asked.

Kanna opened her bedroom door, now fully clothed in her high school uniform with her hair braided, and shouted, “I’m fine, Grammy!”

The grandma walked back to whatever room she was previously in within the big mansion.

“You.” Kanna pointed at him accusingly, “Behave yourself while I’m at school. I’m a member of student council, they rely on me to be there. They wouldn’t be able to function if I weren’t at the top of my game.”

“If by games you mean dueling then perhaps my assistance would help you gain the respect of your peers.” Black Mist offered.

“It’s a figure of speech, I wasn’t talking about- Wait, you duel?” Kanna asked.

“Yes. In fact, I’m quite good. My dueling skills are the clearest memory I have.” Black Mist answered.

“Good to know. Well, see you later then.” Kanna said as she walked down the many flights of stairs she had within the big empty mansion she lived in.

That was the first thing Black Mist observed, how empty the whole place was.

What could one girl and one elderly lady possibly need such a large living space for? Neither of them seemed to interact much, having huge corners of the house to themselves and only ever meeting in the middle for mere seconds until Kanna escaped to solitary once more.

Kanna’s grandmother wished her a good day at whatever this ‘school’ was and then the woman and Kanna went their separate ways.

Once out the door, Black Mist got a good view of just how big her house really was, and how small the other houses were in the other neighborhoods they passed.

“Why are you following me?” Kanna asked, looking back at how Black Mist floated behind her.

“I told you, we are bound together. Wherever you go I have to follow. I am not doing this by choice.” Black Mist explained, “I do hope something interesting will happen at this school of yours.”

“Hey Kanna!” A fellow classmate called out to her on the school grounds.

Kanna scrambled to cover up Black Mist, hoping that just by standing in front of him would shield him from their view.

“Uh, are you alright?” The classmate asked.

Kanna looked back at Black Mist.

“Are you looking for something?” The classmate’s expression showed concern.

“You don’t see anything behind me?” Kanna asked, the classmate tilted their head and then shook it to answer ‘no’

“I don’t see anything, should I?” They asked.

“No, you’re right, there isn’t anything there. I just thought I was being followed.” Kanna used this opportunity to glare at Black Mist, causing him to smirk.

The classmate bid her goodbye and ran ahead.

“Well, now that is something, you seem to be the only one able to see me.” Black Mist pointed out

“Yeah, lucky me.” Kanna spoke with sarcasm, “It’s probably for the best. I don’t know if I’d even be able to explain why you’re stuck with me to begin with.”

Upon arriving at the school, many more students greeted Kanna, so it appeared she was decently well respected from her peers. However, the true judge of her respect would be this ‘council’ she was a part of.

Black Mist was dragged into Kanna’s student council meeting. While Black Mist expected Kanna’s hierarchy to be high in the group of students, he was a bit disappointed to see another boy sitting at the desk he expected Kanna to be in.

A ragtag group of kids had entered the room in hopes of making some sort of deal, Black Mist was interested and listening closely from the corner he floated in.

“So, you want me to make your club official.” The boy in charge said, “And, can you repeat the name to me? I don’t think I got it the first time.”

“It’s called the numbers club, Mr. President.” One of the boys explained, “Tetsuo made us badges and-“

“Yes, but what does your club do?” The president asked.

“We, uh, we do community service and…Solve problems!” The kid explained.

The president raised his eyebrows, “Hm, alright. Well, Takashi, you are a council member and I suppose I can trust your judgement.”

“President,” Kanna sprung into action and leaned over him, “are you serious about this? You should really reconsider! Look who is in that group! That troublemaker Tokunosuke, that dunce Yuma, and that freaky cat girl.”

Kanna spoke in a hushed whisper, it made Black Mist wonder why she didn’t speak her mind out louder because her statements seemed to all be true.

“If they say they’re going to be solving problems and all then I’m sure they’ll be able to keep people like Tokunosuke out of trouble. It could be a good thing.” The President assured her.

“Mamoru!” She tried again, this time on first-name basis. The boy named Mamoru didn’t budge. He instead ignored her and turned back to the kids.

“Get yourself a willing supervisor and consider yourselves an official club.” Mamoru told them, cheers erupted within the group of kids.

“Mr. President, I can’t thank you enough!” The boy who did most of the talking cheered, his friend behind him then jumped in.

“Yeah! You rock!” Another boy added.

As the kids were leaving, one of the boys looked back, his eyes squinted in Black Mist’s direction.

Black Mist stayed perfectly still, waiting to see if that boy really could see him. In the boy’s red eyes, he swore, he could have seen some recognition until one of the girl’s tried pulling him away.

“Come on, Yuma, what are you waiting for?” She asked.

“Oh, sorry Kotori! I thought I saw something.” Yuma dismissed quickly and followed the girl out with the rest.

“How could you let a club that vague become official?” Kanna questioned Mamoru, who shrugged off her statement.

“There’s no need to be so strict about clubs, it sounded harmless enough. One of our own is part of it.” Mamoru explained.

“But-“

“I don’t want to hear any more of it, Kanna.”

She exited the meeting room, arms crossed, expression blank but her frustration was evident. That much was as clear as day to Black Mist.

“Well, it seems like they do not rely on you as much as you previously stated.” Black Mist sneered.

“Just be quiet.” She said in a low voice, not at all matching the reaction to Black Mist’s comments she had before.

“You cannot combat the ignorance of others by speaking quietly. I am surprised you did not take action.” Black Mist told her.

“What could I have even done? He’s the student council president, I’m just a member.” Kanna argued.

“If you want people to listen to you and respect you then you must express your authority through power.” Black Mist advised her, “You have a lot of power within you, strong enough that even I sensed it in a delirious and desperate state. Why keep it under lock and chain?”

“How are you so sure of this?” Kanna asked him, her hands clenched up into fists, “You don’t even know who you are or where you came from and you’re telling me I’ve got some weird negative powers? I’ve always been just a human, Mist!”

“Even humans are capable of such things.” Black Mist assured her, “I have some advice if you would like to hear it.”

Kanna thought about it for a moment, looking around her to see if anyone was there to watch her talk to him.

“Go ahead.” She agreed.

“Defeat the most powerful duelist here and win the respect of your peers.” Black Mist said.

“That won’t be so easy.” Kanna added in, “There are duelists here who have competed in tournaments, I’ve never made it to that level.”

“Then let me help you. Dueling is engraved within my mind. My skills can be very useful.” Black Mist offered, his arm outstretched, “You are already inclined to help me retrieve my memories, Why not accept some help from me?”

Kanna went to shake his hand but her own phased right through, she let her hand hover above his own to show that their alliance was now formed.

She made a deal with him, a deal with the devil.

…

Shark was initially on his way to eat lunch with Yuma and the others on the rooftop out of some sort of ‘celebration’ of their club becoming official. He had no idea why he of all people was invited, after all he didn’t know Yuma’s friends all too well, but his sister was off eating lunch with some other girls and Shark weighed both options. Yuma and his friends wouldn’t tease him over embarrassing stuff, so eating lunch with them seemed like the better option.

On the way to Yuma’s usual spot, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. A card lay untouched on the ground of the school roof top, and it seemed far too suspicious to be something some kid dropped by accident.

Shark picked it and let out a gasp at the title of the card.

-32

“A negative number?” Shark questioned out loud in shock, he got out his d-gazer and began to call Yuma. Something was definitely amiss.

Just then, someone else arrived in though the sliding doors. It was Kanna who stood before him and she wasn’t just simply passing by.

“Ryoga Kamishiro, You not only made it into the National Duel Circuit and the World Duel Carnival, but you are known as one of the most powerful duelists in this school.” Kanna announced to him, “I want you to duel me.”

Shark was about to tell her to just go away and that he wasn’t dueling anybody until he saw a figure appear from behind her, one that was eerily familiar.

“Shark, what is it? What’s wrong?” Yuma frantically asked him through his d-gazer that was now held loosely in his hand against his side.

“It’s you.” Shark spoke in shock, “Number 96, how are you back?”

“Number 96?” Yuma gasped over the video call, “Shark, hold on! I’m coming over!”

“Wait, Yuma-“ Shark tried to respond but Kanna interrupted him.

“Number 96?” She questioned, then she turned to Black Mist, “Mist, he knows you.”

“He also has one of my memories.” Black Mist pointed to the card in Shark’s hand, “That card, it contains a piece of my fragmented memory, I can sense it.”

“I see,” Kanna said understandingly, “guess we’re going to kill two birds with one stone today.”

“What are you doing with that girl, number 96?” Shark questioned Black Mist, looking past Kanna.

“You should be more concerned about the duel we’re about to have over who gets to keep that card!” Kanna attached her duel disk to her arm, taking out her d-gazer and watching as the augmented reality field began to set in, “You will play for it, won’t you?”

Shark seemed reluctant but he too got set for the duel. Yuma and the other members of the numbers club climbed down from where they were sitting and met them in the middle.

Black Mist observed their expressions. Seeing them looking around frantically and in fear, questioning if 96 was really there filled Black Mist’s mind with thoughts. Has he been here before? Do these people truly fear him?

“Is Number 96 really here?” Kotori asked Yuma, “How come I don’t see him anywhere.”

Yuma gasped as it seemed his vision finally cleared while meeting Black Mist’s gaze.

“He is back…But how? How did I not see him before!” Yuma said in distress, “Shark!”

“Just sit tight, Yuma. I’ll handle this.” Shark assured him, “I didn’t see him either, until I picked up this negative number.”

“Negative number.” Yuma questioned.

“It seems like it’s his.” Shark replied.

“He has his own numbers…That must mean…Has he lost his memories just like Astral?” Yuma came to a shocking conclusion, his friends beside him gasped and Shark nodded in agreement.

“Enough talking!” Kanna shouted, everyone was immediately silenced, “I’ll be starting this duel off by summoning my Sugarplum Ballerina Mint!”

She set her card down and her monster appeared to perform a pirouette on the field.

“Next I play the field spell Land of Sweets!” Kanna announced, the area of the school transformed into a land of snow, gumdrops and candy canes stood tall around them, “As long as there’s one Sugarplum Ballerina on the field I can summon another Sugarplum Ballerina so come on out Sugarplum Ballerina Ice!”

“Sugarplum Ballerina’s special ability enables me to draw one more card, so say hello to Sugarplum Ballerina Pepper!” Kanna placed down her last Ballerina, the three of them standing tall on the tips of their toes.

Her field full of 3 level 2 monsters filled everyone with dread and Black Mist with joy.

Black Mist’s card within her deck box began to glow and Black Mist willed her to wield it. The two exchanged a malicious smiled and Kanna held Black Mist’s number up proudly.

“With 3 level 2 monsters on the field I can built the overlay network!” She announced, “I XYZ summon Number 96: Black Mist!”

Black Mist laughed out loud as he saw his avatar appear on the field before him. Just the sight of it almost brought his missing memories back to him without the Negative Number, but the nostalgic feeling wouldn’t suffice.

“It really is him…” Yuma exclaimed.

Black Mist had returned, meaning the merging of Astral and Barian World was about to bring out even greater evil.

7 notes · View notes

beauty-abstraction · 3 years

Text

Title: The Best Ending

Pairing: Tsukkiyama

What you’re getting yourself into: confessions, first kiss

Synopsis: Yamaguchi finally gets Tsukishima to play a game with him, gay panic ensues

“Hurry up, Tsukki!”, Yamaguchi whined. “That’s rich coming from you ” Tsukishima replied, an obvious jab at the fact that he is usually the one waiting due to Yamaguchi’s near-constant penchant for running late. “Sorry Tsukki!! I’m just so excited that you finally agreed to play this game with me! It has been out for months now”, said Yamaguchi. “I would hardly call me losing a bet ‘agreeing to play that with you’” Tsukishima said sarcastically. “To be fair, I still have no idea why you bet against me in the first place! Do you not believe in my epic athletic abilities?” Yamaguchi replied with a teasing tone.

The bet was on whether or not Yamaguchi could get 5 service aces during the practice match. In all honesty, the real reason that Tsukishima bet against Yamaguchi was to give him something to focus on other than his nerves. Also, Yamaguchi was just so excited about his new game, and the bet gave Tsukishima the opportunity to cave to Yamaguchi’s puppy dog eyes without admitting defeat.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in you, it’s just that I do believe in the other team’s ability to get the ball up” Tsukishima said jokingly. “Whatever,” Yamaguchi scoffed, “Let’s go! There is an otome game with our names on it!” Tsukishima smiled to himself at Yamaguchi’s excitement before zipping up his bag and following Yamaguchi to his house.

For reasons that Tsukishima would never understand, Yamaguchi adored otome games. Where Tsukishima found them cheesy and disgustingly cliche, Yamaguchi found them sweet and interesting. Yamaguchi would often go into rants about how the character archetypes played into the overall narrative in each game and were decidedly not as cliche as Tsukishima found them to be, thank you very much. Despite Yamaguchi’s love for this genre, Tsukishima has never actually played one of these games, or watched someone else play one, preferring to just listen to Yamaguchi rattle on about his most recent playthrough during their lunch break.

After showering and eating dinner with Yamaguchi’s family, they retreat to Yamaguchi’s room where Yamaguchi reads off the synopsis of the game as well as the basic descriptions of each romanceable character from the promotional material.

“I’ll probably start with this one,” Yamaguchi says, pointing to a standoffish character with glasses, “the kuudere character route is usually the easiest for me to get the good ending on.”

“Kuudere?” Tsukishima asked, confused.

“A kuudere is a character that seems apathetic and cynical at first, but as you get to know them and gain their trust they show that they actually really care and that their personality is a facade they keep up to protect themselves.” Yamaguchi helpfully explains. “Their route always ends up being the cutest anyways, so we should definitely start there.”

Tsukishima tries (and fails miserably) to not think of the implications of this ‘kuudere’ type being the one that Yamaguchi finds the cutest while Yamaguchi boots up the game and the campy theme music comes blaring out of his laptops’ speakers.

The rest of the night is spent with Yamaguchi playing his game and Tsukishima desperately trying to pay attention to anything but his own racing thoughts. But the only girls that Yamaguchi has previously expressed interest in were nothing like this stoic character on the screen. In fact, there is only one person in Yamaguchi’s life that really fits that description… and that person is currently in full blown gay panic mode next to Yamaguchi on his bedroom floor. Then, to make matters worse, Tsukishima’s brain unhelpfully reminds him of the fact that Yamaguchi has mentioned playing otome games with all-male romanceable options as well. What does this mean, if it means anything after all? Does he like men? Women? Both? Neither? Or does he just play both types because they provide a different gaming experience? He looks up from the screen and studies Yamaguchi’s face for a bit, thankful that he is too engrossed in his game to notice the attention. Yamaguchi’s face is cutely scrunched up in concentration, his teeth nibbling his lower lip as he decides what dialogue option would be best. Tsukishima realizes that he has been staring perhaps a bit too long and quickly jerks his head in the other direction.

Unfortunately for him, this is around the same time that Yamaguchi pulled his attention away from the screen to see Tsukishima’s reaction to the cute line that the character just said, seemingly oblivious to Tsukishima internally screaming at himself for being so gay and in love with his best friend.

“Awww Tsukki! You like them too? That line they just said was just too cute!” Yamaguchi says excitedly, unintentionally misreading the situation. Tsukishima quickly reads the line on the screen and panics when he finds that it is just as cliche as he thought it would be. I mean, who writes this stuff?? More importantly, how is he going to play this off when his two options are admitting that he has a big, fat, stupid crush on his best friend or pretending to be attracted to some boring 2D character from a cheesy otome game? Rather than choosing the more logical option #2, Tsukishima decides to childishly give Yamaguchi the silent treatment while dramatically pretending to not hear him. This method seemingly works as Yamaguchi just giggles, rolls his eyes, then turns his attention back to the screen, dropping the subject for now.

After another hour or so of Yamaguchi playing and sneaking glances at Tsukishima to gauge his reactions to each new scene, Yamaguchi decides to shut off the game for the night in favor of helping Tsukishima set up the futon.

This is when he decides to bring the topic up again. “You seemed to be really focused on the game Tsukki! Especially that character. I told you they would be the cutest!! I really didn’t expect them to be your type though.” In a panic, Tsukishima goes back to his original method of avoiding the questioning completely, but he is out of luck as Yamaguchi is the most stubborn person that he knows and will not drop it again until he gets an answer. “Still nothing?” says Yamaguchi, “how about we do 20 questions?”

“...”

“hot or cold?”

“...”

“You tell me why you’ve been quieter than usual tonight?”

“What are you talking about?” Tsukishima demands, whipping his head up to look at Yamaguchi. “Hah, gotcha!” Yamaguchi gloats, “but seriously, what is up with you? You were fine until we started playing. Are you just too proud to admit that these games are actually entertaining or —” “I don’t like these stupid games, I like you!” Tsukishima interrupts in a sudden outburst.

Yamaguchi stands there with his jaw dropped open as they both struggle to process the words that just came out of Tsukishima’s mouth. “Really?” Yamaguchi finally says, his shaky voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, so… yeah” Tsukishima replies eloquently as he turns away from Yamaguchi to begin quickly packing up his things in order to make a quick escape. He freezes when Yamaguchi lightly grabs his wrist to prevent any further movement. He is sure that his ears are bright red, betraying his emotions even though his face is hidden from Yamaguchi’s sight. Then, Yamaguchi starts laughing. “Great,” Tsukishima thinks “I just told him how I feel and he’s laughing in my face”. Tsukishima steals a glance at Yamaguchi only to see him laughing while fondly looking at Tsukishima like he was the most precious thing in the whole world. And maybe he was in Yamaguchi’s eyes. “Sorry,” says Yamaguchi while wiping a tear from his eye, voice still slightly shaking with uncontained laughter, “it’s just that you make fun of otome games for being cliche when you are the walking definition of a kuudere! I absolutely can’t deal with you!” Yamaguchi only laughs harder at the glare that Tsukishima sends his way until Tsukishima quietly says, “the difference is that you actually like those games…”

Yamaguchi pauses while he considers Tsukishima’s words. Was he really so oblivious to Yamaguchi’s many, many attempts at flirting? He was hardly subtle. Subtlety is definitely not one of Yamaguchi’s strengths, he is more of an ‘all or nothing’ kind of guy. What stumbles out of Yamaguchi’s mouth next could be considered somewhat of a hot mess as far as confessions go. “Are you kidding me? Like, you’re being serious right now? You’re not joking?”

“Yes.” Tsukishima replies coldly, ready to just make a run for it so he can go crawl in a hole and die alone in peace.

“Sorry Tsukki!” Yamaguchi replies hurriedly, “I just… it’s just… have you really not noticed?”

“...noticed what?” Tsukishima says, suddenly reconsidering his whole crawling-in-a-hole plan.

“I have liked you for so long, and I definitely haven’t hid it. I mean, I even regularly share my fries with you!” Yamaguchi half-screams, exasperated at how stupid his seemingly ‘smart’ friend is being. “That doesn’t mean anything if they’re just the ones that don’t meet your ridiculous criteria for a ‘good’ french fry and — wait what?” Tsukishima responds, cutting himself off as he truly realizes what Yamaguchi said. “I said that I like you too, idiot” Yamaguchi says fondly. There he goes again, looking at Tsukishima the same way that he looks at the shiny rocks that he picks up on the way home after practice sometimes. Perhaps Tsukishima has more in common with those shiny rocks than he cares to admit. “I am not an idiot” Tsukishima says instead, faking offense in a way that he knows will make Yamaguchi laugh. “Ehhh” Yamaguchi responds while giggling again.

In yet another lapse of judgement, Tsukishima leans forward to grab Yamaguchi’s face and pull him into an obviously inexperienced kiss. Realizing his mistake, Tsukishima quickly pulled away and apologized “ Sorry, I should’ve uh… asked first or something… you just looked so cute and I…” He was cut off by yet another chaste kiss from Yamaguchi. “It’s okay, you’re really nervous so I’ll let it slide,” Yamaguchi says with a small smile, his face still inches from Tsukishima’s own, “we should probably get some sleep now.” “Yeah, we probably should” Tsukishima agrees while pulling Yamaguchi in for another kiss.

#tsukishima x yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #tsukkiyama #hq fluff #first kiss #confessions #sleepover

48 notes · View notes

blue-shaded · 4 years

Text

Why Sean’s joke wasn’t a joke and it was manipulation instead, the tedtalk version: Y’all are being made fools of so let me just give the easy rundown for you so you can understand what’s going on here. Sean made a classist comment. And so did Ethan. People quickly picked up that “haha poor” and the whole “imagine if” comment were not acceptable. They were classist, made fun of poverty and made fun of people who can barely live from their incomes especially during a pandemic, where a lot of people lost their jobs. They adressed this LOUD and CLEAR to Sean and Ethan on twitter, tumblr, and other socials. THEN Sean adressed the problem with “It’s a joke” THIS IS EXTREMELY PROBLEMATIC. By classifying it as a joke he justifies himself making classist comments. Because either the stans will go “haha Sean you are so funny” OR the people who are outsiders just will go “Oh I guess I didn’t understand the joke then but it’s okay because it’s just a joke” NOT realizing at ALL how damaging this is for everyone involved and everyone that is surrounded by that comment. Shoving anything off as a “joke” straight up normalizes saying anything. And while classism is pretty tame.. Imagine if he did this with a racist comment, or a homophobic comment, or an ableist one. Would you react the same?? Would you still classify it as a joke?? JUST because you were not the group that was directly offended DOES NOT MEAN that NO one is affected negatively by this. And if you find yourself, ACTUALLY classifying this as a joke you probably need a reality check and reconsider if you yourself are not part of the problem at hand. Do NOT classify insensitive and unacceptable comments like this as a joke. By adressing it as a joke, spreading the message that it was a joke, you are contributing to the problem and showing to outsiders that Sean made a joke, but also that it was ‘just a joke’ Jokes are only funny when they are funny for everyone. Sure. You can self-depricate but knowing that Sean is a white, rich, cishet, hetero, neurotypical male, he falls in NONE of the minority groups and thus does not get to decide whether or not it’s a joke, or whether or not anyone should feel offended. AND NEITHER SHOULD ETHAN. Even if he’s part of minority groups, he’s still a rich white male and has no right in deciding whether or not people should consider classism as a joke. Adress this as it is. Adress it as classism, Call it classism, And IF this situation happens again. Adress the problem at hand for EXACTLY what it is. DO NOT classify problematic behaviour as a joke. The fact that Sean and Ethan called it a joke is manipulation, gaslighting, and very damaging. They want you to think its a joke. They WANT you to think they weren’t being serious but they ONLY called it a joke after they were being called out. Because what would that do to their image, their career if they actually admitted to being classist? Imagine what you would do. Would you admit your mistakes, admit what you have done and have a dent in your personality, your imago, your career forever? Or would you just cover it up real quick with the “joke” coverup and have your career and imago stay squeaky clean. Fucking THINK. Thank you for listening to my tedtalk.

#jacksepticeye #classism #crankgameplays #youtube community #youtube #twitch

45 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 3 years

Text

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare (Ch.27)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Tension (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: As a quirk geneticist, you never really imagined yourself getting involved in hero work. Of course, you never imagined catching the eye of a pro hero either. What starts as a great career opportunity turns into a relationship built upon mutual secrets and trust.

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

Considering everything you and Hawks had to cope with as a new couple, the relationship itself had gone quite smoothly as far as you were concerned. There was a lot of pressure due to the secretive and dangerous nature of your jobs at present, but disagreements were few and far between, and you were both flexible enough to resolve issues quickly without much heartache. However, the time had finally come for you to butt heads in earnest, and as far as first fights went, you had to believe you both deserved awards for the amount of self-control exercised from both parties.

Neither one of you were allowed to raise your voice, not even on accident in the heat of the moment. Actually, neither of you were allowed to speak at all. You could only scribble back and forth aggressively to convey your feelings because the subject you were arguing over was something neither one of you should have a reason to be discussing in the first place.

That unfortunate topic was Dabi.

You had refused to accept the fire villain’s request for you to spy on your boyfriend, and Hawks was quite adamant that doing so had been the wrong decision. Obviously you understood his concerns about crossing someone as dangerous as Dabi, but as long as Shigaraki’s wellbeing was in your hands, you were fairly certain the villains would leave you basically unharmed. Besides, Hawks was the one who had been against you getting involved any deeper with the League in the first place.

‘He threatened you,’ Hawks scratches down on the paper you were using to have the conversation. This method of communication was becoming frustrating for the both of you, especially since finding time to be together was hard enough as it was without having to waste precious moments of it writing everything you needed to tell each other by hand.

Your eyes slide across the words and the tension that you’d being fighting back ever since the encounter with Dabi began nagging you more persistently in the back of your mind. You do your best to lock the feelings back down and then meet Hawks’ eyes while shrugging off his concern. Certainly, Dabi had threatened you, but your life had already been in danger from the moment Dr. Garaki showed you that he could synthesize Nomu DNA. It wasn’t easy living with that fear, but as long as you had the knowledge inside your brain of what the villains were doing, there would be the chance of them deciding to silence you by taking your life. Adding Dabi into the equation didn’t make that any more or less true.

‘Tell the doctor you’ve reconsidered the offer,’ Hawks aggressively adds a period at the end as if it would turn his words into more of a demand than a suggestion.

It didn’t matter whether he wanted you to do this for your own safety or because he really thought it was the best course of action. You still shake your head even though you hated to see the look of disappointment in his eyes over your answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to risk it. The villains were already suspicious of your relationship with Hawks. Both Shigaraki and Dabi had brought up the strangeness of dating a hero while helping out the villains. They’d be stupid not to even consider the possibility that you knew about Hawks’ involvement with the league or that one, if not both, of you were playing the role of double agent.

‘Changing my mind now will only make things more complicated.’ You write down the words despite knowing Hawks was smart enough to have already thought of them himself. It was just like the times when you’d mysteriously passed out in Garaki’s lab and encountered Shigaraki for the very first time. Backing out or changing your mind at the wrong moment would send a message to the doctor and the villains. They would wonder who you’d been talking to, or what had transpired after the fact that had made you think twice and go back on things you’d said in the past. It was better to stick to your guns and continue playing the role of morally ambiguous scientist.

‘Not if the information you give them is valuable,’ Hawks counters with a serious look on his handsome face. He looks over at the news reporter rambling from your TV, probably jealous that they were able to talk so freely while he was reduced to passing notes with someone he cared about. He looks back down at the paper and adds, ‘You can give them my real name.’

Upon reading the words, something inside you suddenly snapped, and you fight off the urge to ball up the paper and chuck it at your boyfriend’s head. When you’d first asked him about his name, he’d insisted that ‘Hawks’ was his real name. He’d never explicitly told you that he’d lied back then, but he’d dropped plenty of not-so-subtle hints for you to figure it out on your own. So, it wasn’t so much the reveal that rubbed you the wrong way as it was the timing of it. You pull the paper towards you and pick up the pen.

‘Absolutely not!’ You write and then underline it twice before throwing the pen back down. Hawks looked shocked at your little outburst and slides the paper closer to himself to simply draw a question mark.

A sigh escapes your lips as you study the confusion in his golden eyes. Perhaps it had been a bit of an overreaction. Both you and Hawks had been so careful and logical about everything for so long that there was a certain intimacy missing in the relationship. You had been trying to cope with that fact as best you can, but something about learning his name this way hit you a little differently.

‘Sorry.’ You write the words slowly. ‘I don’t like the idea of finally learning your name just so that I can hand it over to Dabi.’ It made you feel vulnerable to make such a confession because it wasn’t like you to let your personal feelings affect your behavior so strongly. You wanted to be honest with him though, so that the lines of communication between you could be as open as possible.

Hawks reads over your words, features morphing from surprise into sadness as comprehension dawns on him. He meets your gaze before reaching out and pulling you firmly against him. You weren’t sure what to make of the reaction but you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest.

“I never thought of it that way,” Hawks mumbles awkwardly and refuses to let you go for a moment. “You’re right though. It’s not fair.”

You push away from him to look at his face, feeling surprised that he’d even risk saying that out loud. It could probably be passed off as a comment about whatever the news reporter was still ranting about, but you put a finger to his lips to silence him anyway.

“Sorry,” he whispers against your skin.

“Shh!” You reprimand him before taking your finger away and replacing it with your lips, pressing a kiss to his mouth to show him everything was all right and that you weren’t upset with him. He relaxes right away and warps his arms more tightly around you to hold you closer. You had to pull away after a moment though because your time together was limited, and you’d yet to agree on a solution to your problem.

“I love you,” he tells you with a longing in his eyes that told you he hated the current situation just as much as you did.

“I love you too, bird-kun.” You smile while taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. He glances back down at the paper on the table and picks up the pen begrudgingly.

‘I’ll think of something else for you to tell him.’ He meets your eyes to see how you’d respond and is once again disappointed when you shake your head.

‘I won’t be the one to give him anything he can use against you.’ You write your reply.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he smiles sadly before jotting down his response.

‘If you don’t cooperate, your life will be in danger once Shigaraki wakes up.’

Seeing the truth once again so plainly spelled out gave you pause, but you were determined to stick to the original plan the two of you had agreed to along with the Hero Commission.

‘That’s why we’re going to make sure to end this before that even happens.’ You scribble down the reply before clicking the pen closed. Hawks understood then that you weren’t going to be changing your mind. He sighs quietly and puts his hands up in surrender.

“Ok,” he tells you while glancing at the TV again to check the time. “I have to get back to my patrol soon.”

“I know,” you lean in and kiss him again on the cheek. “I wish we had more time.”

“Can I stop by after you get back from the lab?” he asks although he already knew your schedule.

“Sorry,” you frown. “I’ll be there late tonight. It would be better if you stop by in the morning.”

Hawks grimaced at the thought of you spending so many hours watching over Shigaraki’s unconscious body, but it was at least a little better than being involved with a fully awake Dabi. It was going to be so important for the Heroes to find a way to stop the villains before Shigaraki woke up. More lives than just your own would be in danger if they failed. You trusted Hawks though, and knew he and the commission would do everything they could to prevent the worst case scenario.

“You bet,” Hawks stands up from the couch and stretches his arms and wings as much as he could to prepare himself for his patrol. “Send me a text when you’re awake and I’ll bring coffee.”

“That would be much appreciated,” you smile as you watch him go to the door and pull on his boots and flight jacket. He gives you another quick peck on the lips, says his goodbyes, and before you know it he’s taking off into the sky.

#Hawks x Reader #Keigo Takami x Reader #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks #keigo takami #bnha #mha #Cindy's Writing

25 notes · View notes

ambiengreyarts · 4 years

Text

For @archiveofidentityconstellations, based on these ideas. Also on AO3.

Bruce & Jason

Bruce downs the last thug with a fist to the face and turns immediately to their hostage. He crosses the length of the warehouse with long, hurried strides, having coaxed every batter and gunman into the farthest corner away from him, less one of them got it into their head to inflict any more damage on the boy.

He’s only vaguely aware of the need to tie them up and alert the authorities as he marches away from them; a more pressing concern at the forefront of his mind.

“Robin,” he says, as he reaches him, still seated in the same chair they’d strapped him to, even though he’d taken advantage of his capturers being distracted to slip his bonds. Batman rounds the chair and kneels in front of it, mentally bracing himself, uncertain of the expression he might find on his partner’s face. But Robin has his head bowed and his hands clutching the coil of rope that had bound him fast minutes ago. Batman’s gaze sweeps over the boy looking for signs of injury, but he can’t find any. “Report.” He intones, gently.

He watches the boy swallow, and lift his chin slightly, “’m fine,” is the mumbled reply. Bruce grits his teeth and clenches a fist, feeling a heavy weight rest on his chest. He should have gotten here sooner. Robin clutches the rope tighter, and his shoulders twitch for a second. Batman narrows his eyes at him, “Any injuries at all?” he questions sternly as the image of three muscular men grabbing Robin under the armpits and firmly by the ankles to haul him off, flashes briefly in his mind. Robin’s boots and gloves are so designed to prevent any serious abrasions in the case of his being tied-up or shackled, but the costume doesn’t provide any protection for his arms or legs at all – a design choice that has always irked Bruce since Dick fist decided on it.

“No,” Robin replies, much more firmly, and abruptly gets to his feet, as if to prove it, forcing Batman to lean back. He chucks the bundle of rope to one side and quickly clenches his hands into fists, but the minute tremor in his fingers does not escape Batman’s notice. “See?” he challenges, without meeting Batman’s eye at all. “I’m fine.” He watches the wall instead. “We should call the cops.”

Batman nods, and comes smoothly to his feet, only eyeing Robin in his periphery. The boy gives him a very brief glance, before he looks pointedly away again. Bruce is still hearing his screams from earlier as they’re hauling him off his feet and forcing him away, while Bruce watches, surrounded by a half-dozen others he’s failing to force aside. Desperate and distracted as he was, they’d managed to incapacitate him; Robin’s screams and his blurred struggling form the last thing in Batman’s mind before the inevitable darkness overtook him. Batman clenches his own fists and marches off toward the men on the ground. Robin has every right to be angry with him. He’s Batman, and Robin is his partner and his son, and it is his job to protect the boy. How could he have been so careless? How could he have let them take him?

He hauls one man after another up by the scruff of their necks, dragging them across the warehouse floor with far less grace or care than he’s capable of, unceremoniously dropping them side by side near the doorway. Pulling black zip-ties from his utility belt, he binds their wrists and feet together, one man to another, in a circle, holding up a halting hand at Robin when the boy attempts to assist. Batman moves angrily and impatiently, half-wishing some of them were more awake to experience his manhandling them.

He calls it in to the GCPD while he works, and beckons Robin to follow him outside to wait when he’s done.

He guides Robin underneath the awning just beside the open doorway, positioning himself next to the boy in such a way he can keep the contained kidnappers in his periphery, while hiding Robin from their view. Robin had taken long, determined strides past Batman and was standing with his chin up, eyes forward, and arms crossed to his chest.

There is silence between them. Bruce shifts his weight, putting his gaze to the thugs and Robin in his side view. Though he did not want to think that Robin was keeping an injury from him, the boy had dismissed his enquiry far too swiftly for Batman’s liking. He would have Alfred give him a thorough once-over upon returning to the cave. Well – Alfred would do that regardless. Bruce himself would have to sit through a check-up, now he considered.

He could not resist a low, disapproving grumble at the thought – regretting it at once when Robin flinched. Batman turned back to him, but hesitated. Robin had been watching him and must have assumed Batman’s grunt was aimed at him. Robin’s shoulders are stiff, hunched and trembling, his arms tight against his body with his hands tucked in beneath his armpits and his chin lowered to his chest while he breathes short breaths in quick succession.

Bruce drops to one knee at the boy’s side.

“Robin,” he says, catching himself in time. He’d nearly broken protocol and called Robin by his real name. While he still wants to; lower his voice and speak comfortingly to the boy beneath the mask, he reconsiders even as he thinks it. Apart from the risk, Robin is a source of strength for Jason. A now deeply diminished source, undoubtedly leaving the boy under the mask feeling exposed and defenseless. It would not do to draw any more attention to those feelings by dismissing Robin altogether, and “babying” Jason.

Bruce needs to approach this from as tactful a position as possible, without letting Jason think he was being too soft on or too careful with him. Jason did not like having his feelings pointed out any more than Bruce did. He did not like expressing them much, either, when they were this raw and vulnerable and personal; hard to explain and easy to misunderstand. Not to mention, for all his best efforts, Bruce knew he was bad at understanding others’ feelings. His children’s almost especially. Dick was proof of that, and more often than not it felt like Jason was going to be as well.

Today’s events had done nothing to help – Robin must be furious with Batman, but also just now starting to feel the ache of his fading adrenaline, and the potency of whatever fears and anger the rush had been masking before. He tries his best to hide it, Bruce can tell, and he wants so badly to comfort his boy, set him at ease, and, most of all, apologize for letting him down, give Jason an opportunity to let go of his anger – whether that means yelling at Bruce, calling him out on allowing Robin to be taken, or starting a fist-fight – but, Bruce does not know how to broach the subject. Distant sirens remind him this is not the place for it, either. Instead, he decides to do just as much as he can, right now, and save the full conversation for once they’ve returned to the safety of the cave.

Bruce lifts his hand to Robin’s shoulder and is startled back when the boy visibly flinches; his shoulders scrunch up even further, and what sounds like a cross between a gasp and a sob escapes him. Something like a cold, sharp sting stabs at Bruce’s insides and blossoms all across his chest, leaving him stunned and numb at the realisation: Robin isn’t angry at Bruce; he thinks Batman is angry with him. For being kidnapped, he probably thinks; otherwise, for being this upset in the field—

He must be expecting—

The sirens have become louder in the few seconds past between them, both seemingly frozen in place. Robin’s white-out lenses don’t allow for Bruce to see his eyes, but the pull of his mouth and twitch of his nose suggests he has them shut tight with anticipation.

The numbness in Bruce’s chest is swiftly replaced with a bitter, painful ache that Jason would think Bruce is angry with him – for anything that happened tonight – and moreover that he would express that anger in a way that would—

—hurt Jason—

He swallows thickly, taking a deep, audible breath in and out through his nose as he comes back to his feet. Red and blue lights flicker between warehouses down the line. He feels guilty, for having felt hurt. Batman slowly closes whatever space is left between them. Robin stiffens even more at his movement, but he does not duck away or lean into the side of the warehouse any more than he already is. Carefully, aware Jason must be watching him now, he reaches for him again. He cups his hand at the back of the boy’s head and pulls him slowly to his side. Jason allows himself to be moved, however stiffly, and, when he comes to rest against Batman’s side, Bruce relaxes his grip entirely, but does not remove his hand. Robin’s stiff shoulders lose some of their tension, but it quickly returns when the approaching squad cars finally pull up. With his other hand, Batman tugs his cape over his shoulder, covering Robin entirely. He can feel Jason’s shuddering chest against him, and, without thinking, he squeezes briefly at Jason’s shoulders, tucking him in tighter against his side. Too late he considers it may not have been as reassuring a gesture to Jason as he’d thought, and he half-expects the boy to bolt in the next moment – he’s already loosened his hold on Jason, and can’t bring himself to grasp back on to him and stop him from running if he tries—

Commissioner Gordon had exited his vehicle and sauntered over before Batman realises Jason is still under his cape, and, while he has turned his back to Bruce, he hasn’t shoved his arm away, but is instead holding it close to his chest as he leans back against Bruce’s side. Bruce’s own shoulders slump minutely at the immense relief he feels. They have much to discuss, but for right now he’s thankful to know Jason understands he’s safe with Bruce.

Batman succinctly reports on everything relevant to the gang, and Gordon listens patiently. Jason’s breathing slows and turns into long, deep, near-wheezing gasps while Batman speaks to Gordon, prompting him to clutch tighter at Batman’s arm while he tries to get his breathing and shivering under control. Bruce rubs at Jason’s arm and squeezes his shoulder as comfortingly as he can, but there isn’t much more he can do without drawing any more attention to Jason. When he looks like he might say something about the boy clearly hiding underneath the cape with nothing but his bright green pixie-boots exposed, Batman gives Gordon a tight-lipped look, and the Commissioner briefly drops his gaze with a heavy sigh. He turns graciously away to bark orders they’re already executing at his officers.

“I assume that’s all I need to know, then,” Gordon finally half-grumbles, all but mirroring Batman’s scowl back at him.

“Hnn.” Batman says. Gordon half rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively as he turns away. He calls for his officers to “Pack it up,” and Batman watches them pile into their vehicles and drive off, but, not before Gordon shoots him one last disapproving gaze over his shoulder.

Only after the sound of their engines has died off, does Batman move at all and then only to shift his weight from one foot to another.

“…Robin,” he says quietly, and squeezes the boy’s shoulder. Jason says nothing, and hardly moves except to cling tighter. “…Let’s go home.” Jason’s only response is to shift around and give a fervent nod into Batman’s side. It takes him a moment to decide, but finally, Batman scoops Jason up into his arms, the cape still mostly wrapped around his small frame, and marches them off in the direction of the Batmobile. Jason’s clutching at his thick cape, hands tucked underneath his chin, and his head resting against Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce almost hopes exhaustion has caught up with the boy and Jason will fall asleep before they’d crossed the lot to where he’d parked the car. But, only a few paces in, Jason says very quietly, “’m sorry…”

Bruce clutches his son tighter and scowls at the night. “Nothing that’s happened tonight,” he says as firmly as possible without also sounding angry to his own ears, “has been your fault. At all. Do you understand?” he adds, much more gently. Jason doesn’t reply. “It’s alright, Robin. I’m not upset with you. You did very well. You’re safe, now, and it’s alright. I’m sorry. They should never have been able to get to you, at all. I should have stopped them before things got that far—”

“I thought you were dead,” Jason whispers, and Bruce nearly stops walking. “I thought they were killing you, and I thought—I couldn’t save you—I’m so sorry, I—”

“That’s enough,” Bruce cuts in. He softens his tone to continue, “I’m fine. And, whatever might have happened, it’s not your job to save me—”

“Of course it is!” Jason says at once, straightening in Bruce’s arms so he can look Batman square in the face. There’s enough light from surrounding warehouses and old streetlamps overhead, Bruce can make out the firm, determined expression on his son’s face easily enough. “If Robin doesn’t, who will?”

Bruce does stop walking then. He drops his gaze, not entirely certain of what to say. There isn’t anything to say, that could persuade Jason to think otherwise. He almost mockingly wants to answer “Superman,” but he’s afraid Jason might take him seriously and actually call the Kryptonian next time Bruce is in an unfortunate situation Robin can’t help him out of. Because, there almost certainly will be another. He’d have to think about it, because right now his head is still too stuffed with what-could-have-been’s if he hadn’t shown up just when he had, to recall off the top of his head if he’d ever been this worried and caught off-guard when Dick had been his partner.

“Batman…?” Jason’s hesitant voice pulls him from his reverie; he’d let the silence go on too long.

“It’s a two-way street,” Bruce says finally. “Of course Robin protects me,” he meets Jason’s eyes and wills the boy to understand how important this is. “But, it’s most definitely also Batman’s job, to protect me. And, to protect Robin. Not just Robin’s.”

Jason’s expression has changed, his mouth twisting into a thin line, his eye-line shifting as he appears to consider.

“Okay?” Bruce asks, but doesn’t wait to repeat, “It wasn’t your fault—”

“Okay,” Jason cuts in before he can say any more, “but it wasn’t yours, either.”

Batman tries hard not to scowl less Jason thinks he’s scowling at him, again.

“Okay?” Jason insists, and very pointedly waits for a reply.

He sighs, but reluctantly concedes, “Alright.” He’ll take it back later when he writes up the report, but, then Jason visibly relaxes in his hold and he’s almost startled to realise he hadn’t been aware of just how tense Jason had still been. Jason’s averted his gaze, but Bruce can see a smile forming. He picks up the pace again before Jason’s self-consciousness can catch up to him and he requests he walk by himself, and, while it takes a moment, the boy does eventually drop his head back onto Batman’s shoulder. It’s his turn to smile to himself.

It fades after a moment.

“Jason…” he says, very, very quietly. Jason noticeably doesn’t flinch. “You know… I would never hurt you.”

Jason seems to shrink in Bruce’s arms. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bruce says. “I just—thought you’d like to hear it again.”

Jason’s shoulders twitch; there’s a smile in his tone when he says, softly, “Yeah…thanks, B.”

#Jason Todd #Robin!Jason #Bruce Wayne #Batman #DC Comics #writing #mine #here's the other one #this one was tough to finish

68 notes · View notes

hebescus · 4 years

Text

some things stay forever somehow

eyyy it’s the 4th day!

this was actually a scrap, i sent the rough version of it in the 7K discord server and they liked it??? so i just decided to fuck it, i’m taking this seriously so here we are. Enjoy this unecessarily oddly detailed lil piece.

@alistairwrites here’s my lil piece i hope you enjoy it!

—

The wind blew through his hair, the warm ambience and the crackling fire sound relaxing him as he absentmindedly leaned to his cousin’s side. Varian always loved campfires, there’s something oddly familiar about their warmth, it felt like he just belonged there, in front of the crackling fire. Campfires always gave him this odd feeling of longing, yearning, but fulfilled at the same time. And he always craves that feeling.

That’s why he was really excited when Eugene–his cousin–asked him to join a small camping event together. He knew nobody but Eugene and Rapunzel–his girlfriend. It was a college event after all, and he was still in senior high school. Plus, socializing wasn’t the reason why he came, so he didn’t bring himself to care.

So far, the first night was nice. Eugene and Rapunzel introduced him to a few of their friends and he actually really liked them. He cried laughing by Lance’s story, he had a great time discussing things with Cassandra’s critical and smart opinions, and more. Well, they were obviously different from Nuru or Yong who were his age but he had a great time with them.

“You seemed really intrigued with campfires, kid. Care to share something?” He snapped out of his daydream to find Lance sat on the ground next to him, he didn’t even realize Eugene left a minute ago. He smiled, warmth crept on his body thinking about all the feelings he felt.

“I don’t know…it just felt like I belonged here. I always want to come back, I feel satisfied to be here. But at the same time I…I long for something, there’s like something’s missing but I don’t- ah, I don’t know Lance,” he rambled. Lance gave him a nod as if a sign that he wanted Varian to continue. “I love the warmth, the noises, the ambience…I never felt better when I’m here, It’s confusing, really, I don’t even know why,”

“Hmmm, I see,” Lance answered. His eyes fixated on the burning woods a thinking expression. “I know this might be craaazy for you, but someone from my orphanage once said that if you feel some kind of familiar, longing, addicted feelings about certain something or situations, that means you have a special experience with them in your past life,”

“That sounds like a kids bedtime story if you ask me,” Varian shrugged but he immediately felt bad for being a little bit ignorant, so he corrected his words, “I mean, that’s real sweet, but-”

“Well, I’m not finished yet! They even said that you met someone that makes you feel more connected to the situation, and the longing feeling just gone, that means they were connected to that situation in the past and was important to you,” he continued. “They even called it soulmate, if you even believe in one,” Lance raised his eyebrow, a confusing look between agree or disagree with that statement. And Varian…well, he just cringed. Hard.

“Yep, I don’t like how that sounds,” Varian laughed. “But that’s just my personal opinion, I don’t really believe in that kinda stuff,” Lance hadn’t given him any clue whether he actually agreed with that statement or not, after all.

“Ah, it’s fine, really. A science based guy like you must like something logical, right?” Varian nodded and gave him a small smile before he continued. “I mean, that’s just a little thing you gotta plant in your head because who knows? Maybe it’s real, we just haven’t found out just yet,” he said with an unreadable soft expression. Eugene was not wrong when he said Lance was their dad friend. After that, someone called Lance for help and then he was alone again with his thoughts and the campfire.

“Shit- hey!” Varian’s silence was distubed by a squeal from behind him. He looked back and saw a man being strangled by a wild raccoon who looked like he was trying to steal a fish kabob from the man’s hand. He couldn’t see them clearly–thanks to the night lighting–but he could make out what’s going on. “Ey! Get off me!”

“Uh hey! You…alright?” Varian wasn’t really into the idea of talking to people that’s not introduced by Eugene or Rapunzel, but the man seemed like he needed a little help.

“Can’t you see?! This little- ugh, creature trying to steal my last kabob!” He answered while trying to balance his food and fight the raccoon off. Varian chuckled at that sight, reconsidered his childhood dream of wanting a pet raccoon.

“I think you should just give it to him,” Varian laughed.

“Are you crazy?! This is my las-” Varian cut him off by holding up a plate full of kabobs that Rapunzel gave him earlier.

“Not a big fan of fishies so…you want some?” The man grinned, quickly dropped his kabob to the ground and let the raccoon eat it as he practically ran towards the other boy.

“Oh God, yes, this is like- very good, thank you-” the man said as he snatched the plate out of Varian’s hand, immediately chewing the vegetables and sat next to the blue eyed boy.

Varian took a proper look at him as he ate. He didn’t look much older than him, he had a strong jawline and sharp looks on his face, circular glasses hung on his nose, blond hair neatly tied above his undercut, and…he looked kinda attractive for some reason? Or maybe he just liked the way that faded green sports jacket clung on his white printed tee and ripped blue jeans that complimented his long legs- and why the hell you care so much about that, Varian?

“Listen, I know I’m hot, but staring at people who’re eating is rude,” the man said with furrowed eyebrows, still chewing his food. Varian would think it’s kinda cute if he didn’t just call him rude.

“Is it though? I’m sorry then, I never saw anyone being attacked by a raccoon for a freaking kabob before,” he shrugged playfully. The older just laughed, Varian nearly thought he got a special connection with kabobs because God damn, he inhaled it.

“Well, I’ve never seen you before, hairstripe. Are you new or something?” The man asked, already on his last skewer. Varian was confused by the nickname for a bit before he realized that it’s probably from the blue streak. He dyed it two years ago and still refused to change it.

“No serious business, I just love camping- Well, actually, I’m just joining my cousin, Eugene. You know him?” he shrugged, but then he realized he haven’t introduce hims-

“Yes, of course. That means you’re…uh, what is it- ah! yes, Varitas?”

“Actually, it’s Varian,” Varian tried to not roll his eyes and let out a chuckle instead.

“Ohh, yeah, Varian- I’m sorry. Flynn talked about you a bunch of times,”

“Flynn?”

“Yeah, that’s…kind of an inside joke nickname we gave him,” he answered, placing the empty plate on the ground. “Well, nice to meet you, freckles. I’m Hugo, your cousin’s partner in crime,"

—

The first night went very well. They kept talking to each other until it was late. Late enough that everyone who’s playing games with them at some point went back to their tents, someone even gave the leftover kabobs–luckily for Varian, it was chicken–before she headed off to her tent. The raccoon came back, Hugo reluctantly shared some vegetables with them while Varian laughed and randomly decided to name them Ruddiger, which ironically is Varian’s middle name.

That night, Varian learned that Hugo was only a year older than him. He was a freshman, the youngest person in Eugene’s circle–they knew each other from being in the same basketball club. He also learned that Hugo majored in science, just like he wanted to be. He loved camping for the campfires just like Varian. Although, he learned much more about the older from his observation. He loves calling people with nicknames, he had this unique trait such as naming most of his stuff, he would snuggle on his jacket when the wind got chilly, he would scrunch his nose when he disagreed about something, and he was really smart. He didn’t know why he paid that much attention to the little details, but for now, all he can say is that he was indeed interested in this guy.

—

The second night rushed in. They were exhausted from all of the fun activities they did in the day with some friends. They went swimming, played a bunch of sports, they even had a little acoustic session at sunset. But at the end of the day, they would sit there in front of the campfire, Varian with his comfortable beanie and Hugo with his warm jacket.

"Today was really fun, don’t you think?” Varian asked softly. His thought ran around the events that happened that day. It gave his stomach some funny feelings. It started when Hugo gave him his shirt after swimming–no one told Varian to bring any backup clothes. He swore he saw a pink tint on his cheeks and a really soft little smile on his lips before a friend turned his attention away from the younger. Then their hand would brush against each other while trekking, occasionally interlocked them together on a steep path. He also still remembers when Hugo hugged his head and yelled at his friend for accidentally hitting Varian’s head with a volleyball. He somehow couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his fingers on his hair.

And then the little acoustic session. Oh God, he didn’t know what to feel about that. He was challenged by Cass to sing because she knew he didn’t like to sing in public. He didn’t care that much at first, but once the first line came out of his lips, Varian just lost his ability to speak. Who knew that the kabob guy he met last night had an extremely angelic voice. It was a really romantic song and the fact that Hugo kept staring at him the whole time just made his heart stop. He is in fact no head over heels for the guy he just met last night, right?

“Yeah it is. I don’t feel like going home tomorrow,” he frowned. “I just want to be here…in the middle of whatever forest is this, by this campfire and the warmth- just doing nothing and…talking to-you. It’s nice to have a campfire company like you, hairstripe,”

Varian’s stomach went weird again and his freckled cheeks went slightly pink. But immediately fought it off with a little ‘thank you’ and changed the topic and had a whole new, endless conversation again.

One thing that he realized is that the more they talked, the warmer he got. He could feel this odd yet familiar kind of comfort and connection that somehow he only got when Hugo was around and he only knew him for one day.

It was nearly three in the morning when one of Hugo’s friend came out of his tent, scolding them for being out so late and just initiated to extinguish the fire- for some unknown grumpy reason.

But that didn’t stop them from talking about a random meme on Varian’s phone that got them laughing a little too loudly. Varian then started to ramble about this funny childhood story that was connected to the meme, when a rush of cold wind made his body shivers. He tried to fight it off by keeping on talking, but Hugo noticed that.

“You cold, hummingbird?” Hugo asked, starting to take off his jacket.

“A little, but it’s fine,” however, his body couldn’t lie as he tugges his short sleeves begging for some warmth.

“And you think I would believe that?” The older chuckled, shoved his jacket to the other’s chest.

“How about you-” he was cut by Hugo’s facepalm as he T posed and showed every side of his hoodie.

“I have layers, bean,” the blond said smugly while his hand slightly fixed the younger’s beanie. Varian smiled and put the jacket on. It was the second clothing that Hugo borrowed him but this one is definitely better than the shirt. It smelled like…Hugo. He didn’t know how to describe it, but he enjoyed it,

Maybe a little too much.

—

He decided that he didn’t want to be away from that blond boy. It was only two days but he swore he really really liked him. Yes, he finally admitted it. The second that jacket was clung on his body, he knew all the feelings just crashed together. And he was scared, because right now everything was packed and they were all ready to go home. He stared at the older’s back who’s laughing with his friends and carrying supplies to a car. He really didn’t want him to go.

Varian tugged the green jacket closer to his body, trying to memorize every warmth before he gave it back. He took a deep breath and walked towards Hugo.

“Uh, Hugh,” he called nervously.

“Oh, hey there, hairstripe. Need help with something?”

“Umm, no, I just want to say thank you…for these past two days, I really, really enjoyed it. It’s been nice to know you,” he smiled softly as his fingers started to unzip the jacket and take off the jacket. “And I guess you left your-”

“No, please keep it,” Hugo cut him off, his hand gripped the left pocket of the jacket and halted the younger’s move. “Olivia looks good on you,” Oh, did he mention that his favorite jacket was named 'Olivia’? Because Varian thought it was adorable.

He was about to thank him when the older stepped closer and pecked his lips softly, leaving him absolutely breathless and flustered.

“See you later, goggles,” Hugo smiled, walking away from Varian and approached his friends. He had so many thoughts but the last nickname was kind of confusing. He called him sweet cheeks, blue, hairstripe, freckles, shortstack, bean, hummingbird, but where did goggles come from? It was weirdly…familiar. It was the same weird feelings with the sudden connection he got with that boy.

He stayed silent on the road. Thinking about that handsome prick who stole his heart just like that, thinking about his lips on his own and how it should be longer than just a single peck, thinking about their connections, his weird last nickname…his head just screamed 'Hugo, Hugo, Hugo’ and he loved it. He loved every single thought about him.

Once he got home, he quickly greeted his dad and changed his clothes. He was about to hang the jacket to the back of his door when a piece of paper fell from the left pocket.

'xxx-xxx-xxxx,

Would you mind for another talk, sweet cheeks?

Love, Hugh’

He smiled at the paper like he never smiled before then he jumped around his room and quickly grabbed his phone. One thing he realized when he was typing the number; the second he laid his eyes on Hugo, the longing feeling of the campfire just gone, replaced by a satisfied, fulfilled warmth and connection that made the campfire felt better and better when he was around.

Guess Lance’s little story wasn’t a bedtime fairytale anymore.

—

The air was cold, but the fire warmed their body as they leaned on each other’s side. Nuru and Yong were fast asleep in their tents, tired from the long day of journey plus the challenging trial.

“Hugh,” the younger called, intertwining his hand with Hugo’s, today’s event brought their feelings together and they could never be more grateful. “If you can keep a moment forever with you. What would it be?”

“Forever?”

“Yeah, forever,”

“It’s pretty simple actually,” the older answered with such sweetness in his voice. “It would be now,”

“Uh…what do you mean by 'now’?” Hugo laughed at his lover’s obliviousness.

“To be here with you…in the middle of whatever forest is this, by this campfire and its warmth- just doing nothing and…talking to-you. It’s really lucky of me to have a company like you, hairstripe,” he answered softly.

“That’s…what I want to be kept forever too, even if we have another life I want this kind of moment to stay,” he slightly cringed at his sudden sappiness but he was too in love to care. “I love you,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss the older.

“I love you too, goggles”

#varigo #varigo appreciation week #varigo week 2020 #alchemy boyfriends #varian the alchemist #tts varian #hugo the human #tts hugo #tangled the series #varian and the 7 kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k #vatsk #varigo fic #fic #my fic #my writings

37 notes · View notes

wedreamedlove · 4 years

Text

[FIC] Sea Anemone

Rating: T Characters: Xu Mo/Reader Word Count: 2670

Tags: Mild angst. ABO. Omega!Reader. ?!Xu Mo.

Summary: An excellent hunter approaches their prey in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. But, in nature, bright colors are a warning for poison.

A/N: Set in the same universe as Bai Qi's "No Other But You" but they're not connected.

Xu Mo was taking the day off.

This is what you’re told when you drop into his office at his research institute. You are looking for him because you know he returned from an overseas trip in a morning flight today and that he would choose to continue working instead of resting like a normal person. However, contrary to your expectations, he actually took a leave of absence.

Concern is your first and foremost emotion at this abnormal situation. After all, it’s rare for Xu Mo to take any days off and you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard of or seen him being sick. In your mind, the intelligent man is always in good health and more likely to be the one taking care of you for being sick or overworked.

You step out of the research institute, shading your eyes from the bright sunlight, and it only takes a second to decide on your next action. You take out your phone and give Xu Mo a call.

He answers at the fourth ring, “Hello. Is something the matter?”

For a moment you don’t recognize the voice that answers. Xu Mo’s usual dulcet tone is hoarse and exhaustion clings to his words.

“Hello?”

You respond hurriedly when you hear him again and explain how you came looking for him at his work, but he wasn’t there and so you became concerned. Were there any problems with his flight? Was he feeling okay?

“Ah…” He hums, “The trip made me more tired than I expected, that’s all. It’s nothing serious. If you were looking for me to talk about the next program on your show then I can—”

You immediately cut him off. Nope, he’s not to exert himself at all today and he needs to rest.

There’s a pause at the other end of the call, as if Xu Mo is surprised by your vehement rejection, but then he sighs, “… I’m not that fragile. But, very well, I’ll be good and listen to you.”

His voice gentles in the second half, lowering slightly, and it seems to carry one part resignation, three parts helpless warmth, and six parts doting. It tickles your ear and lets loose a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach because he sounds like he’s indulging you, and will happily do so for any other demands you have.

You clear your throat, pulling your mind back together, and check the time to see that it’s just past noon. You ask whether or not he’s eaten lunch yet.

“No,” he says at first, reconsiders, and then adds more onto his short answer, “But I don’t have much of an appetite.”

His reply sets you off. You know it’s likely he hasn’t eaten anything this entire day, especially when you consider the time zone differences during his flight, and so he should fill himself up with a light meal. Even if he’s going to take a nap later, it’s better to pad his stomach with something. Keeping to a regular meal schedule is important to staying healthy.

The next thing you hear is his laughter.

You ask him what he’s laughing about, growing flustered at the amusement in his voice.

“I’m glad to see all those times I told you to take care of yourself has made an impression on you.”

You realize that every word you just lectured him with are things he tells you when you’re sick. Your cheeks warm even as you grumble about how he should know better then and you shouldn’t have to repeat his own words to him. But, since he hasn’t had lunch, you offer to head over to his place to make something. Or you could grab something outside for him. It was actually why you were looking for him in the first place; you wanted to catch up over lunch since both of you haven’t seen each other after he left for his trip overseas.

“There’s no need. I can make something at home. It would also be inconvenient for you to return to work afterward.”

You insist though, especially now that the idea has settled in your head. Work is in a quiet period, which is how you even have the time to find him for lunch, so you only need to send a quick message to Anna. Besides, he probably doesn’t have any ingredients at home since he just got back from a long trip, and didn’t he say he was going to listen to you today?

Xu Mo surrenders when you bring up his earlier words, “I did and so I suppose I can only give in to my stubborn girl. But don’t rush back and be sure to button up; the weather is cool today.”

You promise to be careful, understanding his implied meaning, and give him an estimate as to when he can expect you in front of his apartment before you hang up. After you make sure the scent glands on your neck and wrists are still covered by your clothes you set off in a new direction. Time to go grocery shopping!

~~~

You stop at your apartment first to put away your work bag, coat, and store the groceries that you bought for yourself before you step back out to go to the neighboring door to knock.

It only takes a few seconds after knocking before the door opens to reveal Xu Mo. He’s wearing a well fitted black turtleneck that outlines his lean figure over dark gray slacks; however, these dark colors also emphasize his sickly paleness and the circles of exhaustion under his eyes. Putting aside your concern, somehow you ended up wearing the opposite of him with a cream cardigan over a short sleeve shirt and jeans.

He pauses upon seeing you, something flickering through his eyes too fast for you to catch, before he smiles gently and steps aside. “Please, come in.”

You thank him and head inside.

This isn’t your first time entering his apartment but it’s instinctive to breathe in whenever you enter someone’s space to get a general idea of them, because scents are the most important communication tool in this world and anything could change in an instant. However, you just feel your usual slight sense of discomfort and, ironically, it’s this sense of discomfort which reassures you that this is Xu Mo’s space and everything is normal.

Unlike most of, well, everyone you know, Xu Mo has a mild—almost bland—scent. It’s a clean smell but at the same time impersonal and, while you can see signs of someone living in this apartment, there’s no sense of possession. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas all love to mark their homes and their scents release automatically in places where they feel comfortable and safe. But you just assume this is his scent and it’s always carried this intrinsic quality, so it would be rude for you to bring it up and make a point out of it.

Xu Mo closes the door behind you as you go into his kitchen and start to bustle around, putting away the groceries you bought and also setting aside the ingredients to make a light meal for two. However, when you see him reaching out to help you put things away, you make a noise of exclamation before slipping yourself between him and the groceries.

Nope! You remind him that, like you said earlier, he’s not supposed to do anything today and you’re going to take care of everything.

Xu Mo presses the joint of his finger against his smile, as if to control the involuntary lift of his lips. “You’re bristling like a kitten.”

You bare your teeth with a light reprimanding growl. This cat has claws.

He holds up both hands in front of him and complies with your order for him not to do anything. He even gets shooed out of the kitchen, except he only goes as far as the entrance and then leans against the doorframe there, watching you with warm eyes. You realize this is probably the best you’re going to get and so you turn back to the kitchen, pulling out your personal apron which you shoved into one of the grocery bags when you dropped by your apartment earlier.

You roll up your sleeves first before reaching for the apron, but the cardigan you’re wearing is loose and the sleeves continuously fall down. You struggle over this for a while until you decide to shrug the cardigan off without much thought, so that you can just wear the apron over your inner shirt.

But a well-defined hand beats you to the apron and then you hear over your head, “Let me.”

There’s an odd note in Xu Mo’s voice, but since you’re facing forward you can’t see his face. He puts your apron over you and ties the strings into a knot behind you with quick, efficient movements.

You tilt your head back to flash him a smile and thank you. He returns your smile, eyes dark, and raises his hand to touch your head lightly before he steps back and leaves you to your cooking.

~~~

Exactly like you said you would, you made a light meal which the two of you finished over a casual conversation. You asked about his trip overseas and did your best to understand all the scientific terms he brought up (although he always patiently explained to you anything you didn’t recognize) and, in exchange, he asked about your work and your days while he was gone. There’s a niggling feeling that you ended up speaking much more and for a longer time than him though.

Now, after lunch, you’re in the kitchen washing the dishes and setting them to dry while Xu Mo peels an apple at the dining table.

Originally, you were going to prepare the fruit you brought over, but before you realized it Xu Mo had already taken the apple and knife out of your hands and began to smoothly peel the apple. In his words, it was the least he can do, seeing as you did the cooking and washing. You decided to pass this job to him, especially after seeing him create a symmetrical and unbroken apple peel.

Leaning forward to scrub at a particularly stubborn stain on a pan, you shake your head to get your hair out of your way. But it continues to slide past your shoulder and cling to your cheeks until you’re fed up. You see that there’s an elastic band set on the counter though—it must have come from one of the groceries—and you pause in your dish washing to dry your hands and grab it. Pulling your hair up with a quick twist, you use the elastic band to make a messy bun on the top of your head.

The instant you do that you hear a sharp intake of breath and then a metallic tang spreads through the room.

You whip your head around, alarmed at the smell of blood, and see that Xu Mo has nicked his thumb with the knife. You rush over and grab his hand before he can do anything, not noticing how he goes utterly still when you come into his space, and lean down to examine the cut. Blood is welling up on his skin already but fortunately it doesn’t look like the injury is deep; it just needs some pressure and a band-aid.

You tell him this while inwardly patting your chest with relief and then you look up and freeze.

Xu Mo is staring at you with an expression that you’ve never seen before. The position you’re in forces him to angle his head down to look at you and, because of that, his eyes are half-lidded. His long eyelashes cast shadows over his eyes, making those royal purple irises appear darker than they are.

“Silly girl, did you forget what I am?” His voice is low.

You don’t understand his words. But then you do.

It only takes a second.

There is suddenly a massive presence. His scent floods the entire room, as if a dam which had been holding back a tumultuous torrent had burst, and you find yourself under the illusion that the room is filling with water—even though that can’t possibly be happening—and there’s a crushing pressure around you like you’re being dragged underwater, deep into a trench.

The edges of your vision darken—no, that’s just Xu Mo leaning closer.

His dark eyes encompass your sight, and they’re so dark you can only barely see a glimmer of purple. The fine hairs on the back of your neck rise. What should have been a blessing to see color in the black abyss is now a warning that something dangerous lurks in the water, circling just a little bit out of your senses but letting you catch glimpses of it to heighten your terror.

He comes even closer.

You’re not even breathing anymore. The air is caught in your throat as you stare at him, frozen with wide eyes.

Xu Mo’s cool breath splays across your face and you tremble minutely when you feel his nose brush past your cheek. The predator, the Alpha, in front of you is going to consume everything of you until there’s nothing left. He’ll eat even your bones.

But then it’s all gone as suddenly as it came.

You think you hear something snap and then your hair comes down from its bun, tumbling across your shoulders and covering your neck.

Xu Mo draws back, a serene smile on his face, and his scent recedes into him like a massive tide pulling back. The oppressive air is completely gone and you can breathe again, which you do, and you inhale what seems like a mouthful of wet air. The whole room almost smells damp, as if it went through a flash flood and now the tropical storm has moved on, leaving behind just a heavy blanket of humidity.

You gawk at him, dazed, until he reaches out to tweak your nose.

“Next time, don’t be so oblivious. Not all Alphas have my control.”

You’re brought back fully to yourself by his words and it’s only now that you realize how shameless your appearance had been around him. You were exposing your neck with your hair put up and you even lowered your head and bared your nape to him. Even if it was accidental, it's basically like you stripped and threw yourself onto him like a juicy steak, begging to be taken. No wonder he snapped.

He’s right in that you’re lucky you were around him instead of anyone else.

You ignore the small part of your mind that whispers how you wouldn’t have minded if he marked you right then and there. Not to mention, there’s now a small seed of curiosity about how he will look if he slips the reins of reason.

Xu Mo’s eyes darken as you continue to stare at him and this time he pokes your forehead. “What are you thinking about now? It can’t be you’re too comfortable to move from here?”

You suddenly realize that you have a hand on his thigh, his injured hand held in your other hand, and you’re still bent over and looking up at him. Heat rises to your face and you don’t need a mirror to know how red you are right now. Scrambling off and away, you holler that you’re going to grab a band-aid and rush out of the room with his gentle laugh sounding out from behind you.

Unbeknownst to you though, when your back is turned, the smile slips off from Xu Mo’s face and he grimaces in pain, raising his uninjured hand to press it against his chest. He curls his fingers into his shirt, right above his heart, and his eyes follow after your color, the shadows in them deepening.

#mr love queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc xu mo #mlqc lucien #love and producer

71 notes · View notes