Tumgik
#what do y'all think everyone else's shirts would be. what do you mean none of you know what I'm talking about.
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allisonlol · 10 months
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chuuya dazai and fyodor when reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day OHKYIGOAHSS
a/n: hiii everyone i have crawled out of my void to offer you this post !! ty to the anon who came up with this wonderful idea. i've missed posting omg and we somehow are so close to 3k despite my inactivity??? slay. shall open reqs again once we get there mwehehe
warnings: slight nsfw
(Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor) When You Try to Remove Hickeys
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Chuuya
he's gonna be the most chill about this tbh
it's your body and if you don't want ppl seeing that on you then that's ur choice!!
however
hiding them is one thing, but that doesn't mean he wants to see you removing them
so yknow that hack where you take a whisk and like,,,twist it over the mark to get rid of it?
yeah so you tried that...and it was actually working until chuuya barged into the room and demanded to know what you were doing
bro is not happy to see the hickies he'd proudly left on you last night being somehow removed by a WHISK
grabs that mf thing and throws it across the room
chuuya's not angry at you, more so frustrated and insecure?? cuz like why would u wanna get rid of them
he's lowkey gonna start pouting tbh. won't say anything else but will glare & give u silent treatment
won't stop until you admit the only reason u removed them is because it was too visible with your work uniform and u didn't want everyone staring smh
insist that he should give you more in areas that people won't see and there's no guarantee y'all won't be late to work <3
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Dazai
oh lord
so dazai really loves to mark you up
and last night was no different. your neck was black and blue with hickies
deadass to the point where you nearly had a heart attack when you saw it in the morning
"how am i gonna go to work like this?!" you practically sob to him while he LAUGHS
his only advice is "then don't go" as if both of y'all don't need to have ur asses at the agency in 20 minutes
you check ur phone for the time and when u see this you panic and sprint to your shared bedroom
you try everything you can think of to cover them
first you hastily layer concealer on your neck, to no avail as the marks were too dark
then digging through ur closet for clothes with a high enough neckline to hide it, to which you found none
whole time dazai is leaning against the doorframe, watching ur meltdown with an amused expression
he approaches and helps u up from the floor where u had collapsed with all the clothes strewn around you ☹️
"allow me to pick out something for you to wear" ….oh god
u guys are beyond late at this point so you sigh and accept defeat, to which dazai picks a shirt that of course displays all the marks on your neck
you got lots of stares that day to say the least
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Fyodor
surprisingly fyodor doesn't usually leave too many marks on you to begin with
he's got that old fashioned take where it's like "other people don't need to see that and be in our business" if u know what i mean
however, he is also a very possessive man
^so when he gets worked up and does leave hickeys on you, the last thing he wants to see is you trying to hide or remove them
which is exactly what he walked in on u doing today
you were trying the good old "rub an ice cube on it" hack before u had to work
now this mf thinks you have some hidden agenda as to why you wanted them gone
"are you seeing someone else" 💀💀
PLS u didn't realize he had been watching from the doorway and this scares u so bad u drop the ice cube down ur shirt
u start frantically trying to get it out of ur shirt while yelling at him like "i have to work, wtf are u talking about???"
u immediately stop tho when he storms up to u and grabs your face to make you look at him
his face is so cold and unreadable omg it's scary
his eyes shift to the marks on your neck as he traces over them with his fingers
"leave these alone" he says lowly, then adjusts the collar of your shirt so they are partially covered
neither of u will say anything more about it after that, but fyodor sends sigma to secretly follow u to work to make sure that's where ur really going 😓
taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @mianqo
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moumouton4 · 4 months
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Just Like A Candy || Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader
A/n : Okay it's been so long since I've written a fic of my one ! I don't know what this is but it's sweet and funny ! 😘 Happy new year everyone, wish y'all health, sucess and love 💙💚
A/n 2 : I love this theory but still don't think Katsuki would smell like this, a bit like when people say Dabi would smell like leather you know
Masterlist ⚜
Warning : None, just fluff
Summary : You smell like a fricking candy today and everyone is wondering from where it comes. Little did they know it's not from where but rather from whom
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Words count : 1290
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“I can assure you I didn’t change my parfum Mina” you answered one more of the plethora of questions she was asking you.
“Your routine then ?” she inquired.
“You know I don’t do routines” you chuckled at her insistence.
“Well then you’re spending your days making caramel in a bakery because you sure smell like candies” she laughed.
You only shook your head laughing at her antics. Truth be told, you knew that this lingering sugary parfum may be the consequence of spending the past evenings in your explosive boyfriend’s sheets. It’s true that it’s been a week that you both took a new step in your relationship. It’s been a while you’ve been dating but recently Katsuki felt the need to have you closer to him, and since he was the one to go sleep early, instead of throwing out of his room when the strokes of 9 pm arrived, he one day asked you if you didn’t want to stay the night.
Well it sounded more like an “Oi ! Where do you think you’re going dumbass ?”
“Well it’s 9 pm so I’ll let you go to sleep-”
“And since when dumbasses like you take initiatives” he flickered your forehead before his voice got softer “Just spend the night there, okay ?” he asked.
And of course you accepted. But this quickly turned into a daily thing, ending up in you both always sharing either his or your bed at night. Sometimes he’d lend you some clothes if you asked for - and he would never admit it to anyone else - but even if most of the time it was his clothes that were wearing you, you looked incredibly fine and attractive in them.
“Mine” he would grumble murmur under his breath as he holds you tight against his warm body, his chin resting on the top of your head. His arms squeezing you ever so slightly, a silent testament to his deep rooted love for you.
His warmth both physical and emotional provided you a cocoon in which sleep felt like a piece of heaven. Even the room felt warm and comforting, as if smelled just like him, a sort of balmy caramel. Only a few people noticed that he smelled so - or more his quirk made him smell so - because the day he usually concealed it with some eau de Cologne, but of course everyone who came into his room could smell the sweet perfume it held.
Cuddling with him you breathed in his scent “You smell so good Kat. Just like a candy”
“Shut up idiot” he mumbled, feeling the red rushing to his cheeks.
“But you’re my little snack, aren’t you ?” you teased. That day you won by K.O. as he buried his face to the other side in his pillow so you wouldn’t see how flustered he looked.
But knowing you liked this smell so much, the tiny bit of self-consciousness he had about the smell being so uncanny of his persona faded, and he started using less and less Cologne, letting his true self shine bright ( like a diamond )
And as I was saying, it’s evident that with all the time you daily spent with him, you would start smelling like him, and even more when you’re wearing his shirts, or yours that stayed too long in his wardrobe. Everyone obviously knew that Katsuki and you were dating, I mean it was evident considering the deadly stare he gave every man who walked 4 meters away from you. But also everyone was far away from thinking that Katsuki would smell so… sweet.
And so as today, your friends, Mina and soon after Kyoka were fixated about your new perfume that made you smell like a threat, on Katsuki’s side his friends noticed a slight change in the air as well.
In the living areas of the dorms, Eijiro and Katsuki were in the middle of a discussion when Denki walked towards them,although he wasn't interested in taking part in the discussion, his opinion changed radically when the sweet smell tickled his nostrils “Hey do y’all smell that ? Who tried to sneak popcorn before me ?” he asked, his eyes looking everywhere, he was surely drooling at the thought of the corn snack.
As the explosive was about to roar about how he just interrupted their conversation, his best friend spoke first “I don’t smell anything” after all he was used to hanging out with him either to play video games with the pomeranian haired boy or to spare in the training room.
Excessively sniffing in the air Denki went on “I know the smell of good food when I smell it. Don't you smell anything Katsuki ?"
"Tshh you heard Shitty Hair, nobody's eating idiot"
Soon after Sero entered the common room. He too noticed the longing scent as he hovered near his friends. Concentrating a little more, the two boys came to a conclusion "Don't you think it smells like the perfume of one of the girls in class ?" remarked the raven haired boy, looking at the ceiling.
"Ooooh yes now that you mention it" he murmured. And it didn't take them more than 5 minutes to come to the following conclusion "Y/n !!!" they both exclaimed.
Meanwhile Eijiro and Katsuki went back to their discussion, just before being pulled out by Denki, who exclaimed, "I should have known she is the sweetest of us all-"
"You've got something to add Dunce Face" Katsuki stood up as he rolled up his sleeve, his fist rising dangerously close to the electric's face. Only to lower it when you entered the room, he knew you didn't like him hitting your friends of the Bakusquad.
"What's happening there ?" you asked, your feet instinctively bringing you to your boyfriend, who wasted no time in wrapping a protective arm around your waist.
This didn't stop Denki from moving to your other side, to put his intuition into practice, but as he inhaled your perfume he realized that the scent wasn't as pronounced as the one he'd smelled when only Eijiro and Katsuki were in the common room. The expression on his face was one of pure bewilderment. He honestly thought it was you who smelled like that.
“Move away asshole !” Katsuki urged, his blood boiling at the sight of Denki sniffing his girlfriend. The other boy jumped like a cat, his eyes still wild as his brain struggled to connect the dots. You looked at your boyfriend trying as well to understand.
“Aren’t you supposed to smell sweet ?” the dazzling boy asked, only to be shooed once again by the explosive who started to have enough looking at your friends smelling his girlfriend “That’s not her dumbass it’s me. And it’s not sweet !” he growled, his arm tightening ever so slightly around your waist.
Under his breath Eijiro murmured a little “manly” at his best friend’s revelation.
“Nooo you’re kidding, this smells so good” Denki mused but Katsuki seemed even more angered “This smells like nitroglycerin ready to explode your moron’s face ! So get lost !” he roared, his other hand crackling and sparkling, this time effectively getting rid of Denki.
You chuckled at his antics “He has a point though, you smell so good babe” you said making the blush creep onto his cheeks. This time he didn’t say anything, his eyes shifting between yours and the wall behind you, before he pressed a light and quick kiss on your forehead and spoke for only you to hear “I’m glad you think so… dumbass” and with that he drew you closer to his chest, eager for the time to come, so you two would be able to enjoy one of those so cherished cuddling session you have every night.
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elvisabutler · 1 year
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priscilla actress reader x austin headcanon number 10, or headcanon number 10 for the "you read your lines so cleverly..." verse.
a priscilla actress headcanon post with no ask? what is the world coming to? in all seriousness, blame the little bit of masters of the air we saw in that trailer and @butlersxbirdy and her recommendation of "hey isn't forever by mumford and sons dove and austin coded?" and realizing just what tom being the producer could mean. tw: daddy kink, talk of a break up, everyone is sad, y'all know the drill. i really just needed to get this out since my creative juices for everything including this verse are just a bit intense. i'm writing something else today with the intention of posting it but i needed this out of my brain or i was going to do nothing else.
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consider! austin immediately leaves the elvis set- or more accurately leaves your shared apartment in australia and goes to film masters of the air.
the two of you had planned to make a pit stop in new york so that you could actually give your agents a hug, having missed them in a way that one only misses found family members.
there were also plans to debate the merits of settling in new york or in california.
"i'd freeze to death in the winter." "you act like you'd be there all the time." "it'd be our home, we'd be there as much as we could be. besides, eventually we'll have kids." "we're moving to france when that happens, daddy."
none of that happens though, because you leave on a plane a week before he does and leave your collar on the dresser and a onesie and ring haphazardly hidden back where they were.
you do selfishly take several articles of austin's clothing. his sweatpants that maybe are loose on you or maybe they're a little tight or maybe they're just there on you. a shirt that either swallows you whole or fits because you've stretched it out just enough. or maybe it just turns into a crop top for you. you also take a pair of his boxers. you figure he won't notice.
he does. immediately. because those were your favorite on him.
you go to new york, see your agents and you had made the mistake of telling them about austin even if it was inevitable that they would know it made them- it made them expect to see him.
"where is he?" "did you hide him at the apartment?" "she hid him, we're going to have to go bother him there." "we just need to-" "he's not there. or here. i- he's still back in australia." "packing up the apartment while you come and see us. if i didn't know you were itching for some new scripts before heading off to london." "i'm not heading to london."
simon notices your face first and pulls you into a hug before motioning for maxwell to join the hug as you try and not cry. you can handle this. you're only crying because it's raw.
"to the diner. you're telling us what happened."
and you do to an extent, cutting off certain bits to make the story seem better. to make yourself seem less strange.
"oh sweetheart. i know you really- we'll comb the scripts, there was one film i think that was dying to have you. netflix, i think. i'll bring it over tonight?"
you don't overbook yourself, but they were right, the film's producers was dying for you.
consider! austin was prepared to have you come with him to london.
he had even told tom that there was going to be a little mini reunion and maybe if they had a chance during a filming break that he was going to take you to france- paris, though you always liked talking about cannes, so maybe there- and propose.
tom remembers and when he sees austin and pulls him into a hug his first question is about you.
"just like australia with the quarantine, right? how's y/n?"
austin doesn't answer at first. too busy playing with his own dove necklace that's supposed to match yours but isn't with its partner any more. when he finally does, he sounds a little more choked up than he thinks he should be.
"i don't know how she is." or where.
"oh, austin. i didn't-" "no one does. not even baz." "secret's safe with me."
his secret is safe with tom until there's whispers of girls on set and till there's whispers and a picture of lily rose depp.
you don't ask about these things when you call him, still wanting him in your life- still grasping at something you willingly threw away.
he doesn't ask you about the paparazzi photos of you in his sweats and with his necklace- that necklace he gave you when you gave him your submission.
you both dwell a little too much to be healthy. he picks up boxing to help. you pick up karate.
you don't stop to think about how didn't priscilla used to karate too.
"boxing, huh?" "barry's a good teacher. karate?" "i have a good teacher too."
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[16] 33's Coming Home With Me (Tim Riggins x OFC)
MASTERLIST | DWHI MASTERLIST
Warnings: none
Words: 2k
Panthers fans gathered around the team's bus while the football team mingled with family. Everyone was hyped to be going to State again and the energy surged through the gathering.
"Are you ridin' with us, Catherine?" Mrs. Taylor came over to me with Julie.
I nodded. "If you're still okay with it."
"Of course! We love your company."
Julie smiled. "We can talk about Matt and Tim."
I glanced at Mrs. Taylor, remembering the day Coach walked in on his daughter and Matt. Julie was horrified, but her parents were mortified. I didn't want our conversation to go down that path for her mom's sake. 
"Uh, yeah. We can talk about how great they're gonna do at the game and only that, Jules." I shifted my eyes over to Mrs. Taylor so she would catch the hint.
Julie rolled her eyes.
Both women looked past me and Julie grinned just as arms snaked around my middle.
"Hey, Tim," she said. Mrs. Taylor greeted him, too, though less enthusiastically as her daughter.
"Hey," he said back, kissing the side of my head.
I was so happy when Julie and her mom gave us some privacy.
"Julie's insistent that we talk about you and Saracen on our way to the stadium." I turned in his hold, brushing his hair back.
"Yeah?"
"My guess is we'll talk about Matt the most." My lips curled up into a smirk. "Saracen isn't too bad on the eyes, ya know."
Tim's lips neared my ear. "I would hate to miss my bus because I had to remind my girlfriend who she goes to bed with every night."
Laughing, I molded my mouth to his. "Don't worry, Riggins. She knows who he is and is very happy."
"Good."
I straightened Tim's shirt. "Are you excited? Senior year and y'all are off to State for a second time."
"It's great." His smile was sweet.
"I thought you'd be more excited," I said.
"Yeah, well I've gotta save the excitement for the game." He kissed my forehead. "I've gotta make sure I have enough energy to show off for my girl."
I rolled my eyes and hugged him. "I'll see you at the hotel, yeah?"
"You bet."
We kissed once more before we split off to our respective rides.
*****
"Who are you stayin' with, Catherine?" Mrs. Taylor asked, peering at me through the rearview mirror.
"Tyra is supposed to be my roommate, but she's working on her application essay. I think Landry is trying to get her to come to the game. If he can't, then I won't be rooming with anyone else."
"Are you thinkin' of sharin' with Tim Riggins?"
Heat rose up my neck and settled on my cheeks. "Um, he has a room to stay in, Mrs. Taylor."
"Mom," Julie whined. "Who cares if they share a room? They love each other, right Cat? I mean, they basically live together."
"Yeah, but there are rules, Jules. It doesn't matter if we love each other, we shouldn't share a room during a school trip," I said.
Mrs. Taylor glanced at me again. "And Tim is okay with obeyin' the rules?"
"He doesn't care much for them, but he cares about me, so he promised to behave."
"He stayed with you last time we were at State," Julie said. "You looked so cute sleeping together."
"That was different. We weren't datin'."
"So it's different that you are now?" Mrs. Taylor asked.
"Uh, yeah. Very different." I could see the realization cross over her face.
"Are you bein' safe?"
Julie groaned.
"Yes, ma'am. Always."
"Do you use whatever it is the right way every time?"
I couldn't keep my half-smile off my face. "I mean no disrespect, Mrs. T., but we are talkin' about Tim Riggins who's been with a lot of girls. He didn't get any of them pregnant, so I'm confident we're using protection correctly." I smiled at her through the mirror. "I appreciate your concern. It's nice to know someone is lookin' out for me."
"You're welcome, Catherine."
The Taylors were a family I adopted as my own once I figured out my own family wasn't close. I didn't come to Mrs. Taylor for life advice, but I listened to what she had to say to me as if she was my own mom. Julie was like a little sister I felt obligated to protect as she grew up. It pained me that she was trying to push her parents away. I hoped Eric and Tami saw me as someone who could mentor their daughter if she kept going down her rebellious teenage path.
"What's that smile about?" Julie asked. "Thinking about Tim?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm thinkin' about you and your family and how much y'all mean to me. Thanks for being my second family."
Julie instantly teared up and Mrs. Taylor smiled through the mirror.
"We'll always be here when you need us," Julie's mom said. "No matter where you go, we'll be here."
"I'm glad."
*****
I gazed at the sign I made. Before the game, me, Tyra, and Julie gathered in our hotel room with poster paper and all sorts of markers and photos. At the time, I loved what I put together for the game. Once I was sitting in my seat next to the girls, I felt like I pushed it too far.
"I can't believe I wrote this on a sign," I said to Tyra.
"You were pretty excited about it this afternoon." Tyra smirked at it on my lap. "I think it's cute."
In bold blue and yellow lettering, I wrote out, "33 is coming home with me." I even had a photo of Tim in his uniform on the poster. It was pretty embarrassing considering we were in a huge stadium where several hundred people would be filling the seats within the hour.
"I'm pretty sure I had a lapse in judgment. There's no way I can hold this up. What if people see it?" I curled it around itself.
Julie laughed. "I think that's the point."
I peeked at it again. "Do you think Tim will hate it?"
"The fact that it hints you're sleepin' with him, he'll love it." Tyra leaned back in her seat. "If you don't hold that up during the game, we won't be friends anymore."
"It does not hint at that and that's a little aggressive, Tyra."
She shrugged. "It definitely does. If it makes you feel better, hold it up when they come runnin' out. Tim might actually see it."
"Then you don't have to hold it up again," Julie said. "You are wearing his jersey."
And it was easy to tell it didn't belong to me. Even with it tucked into my jeans, it spilled over my waistband, covering my pockets. Tim thought it was adorable when he picked me up from my room for breakfast. Tyra and Julie thought it was hilarious.
"Fine. I still can't believe I made this."
"The girls need to know he's spoken for, right?" Julie grinned.
I sighed and leaned forward to look past Julie at Tyra. "I know I should have asked you a while ago, but are you okay with this? Tim and I, I mean."
Tyra waved it off. "I had a thing for Riggins a long time ago. I don't mind you datin' him at all. Y'all have been together so long that it seems weird I ever had something with him."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You guys work together. Better than me and him and I'd say better than him and Lyla Garrity."
"You don't like Lyla very much," Julie pointed out. "Of course you'd pair Tim and Cat together before him and Lyla."
"Yeah, well..."
I chuckled and leaned back in my seat.
*****
I was on the edge of my seat the entire game. My voice was nearly gone as I screamed at them to get the football down the field. The Panthers were holding their own even with the scores even. Unfortunately, the game didn't end in the Panthers' favor. The stadium's volume cut in half as we felt the disappointment.
Mrs. Taylor led us into the locker room at the request of her husband once the team got in there. Friends and family of all the players gathered around the team still in their gear. It was quiet. Coach Taylor stood in front of everyone.
"Your friends and family are here because you played a great game." His eyes scanned over everyone. "We are proud of each and every one of you. We are proud of the way you played out there. Y'all should be proud of yourselves."
It warmed my heart when we applauded them. Some of the football players got teary-eyed at the praise. They made it to State because they worked hard. No one could deny their dedication.
Before Coach asked us to leave, I squeezed past a few players to get to Tim. He was still sitting on the bench with a forlorn stare. It went away the moment he saw me, a brilliant smile on his face.
"What a game," I said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "I'm really proud to call myself Tim Riggins' girlfriend."
His hugged my middle and rested his chin on my stomach. "Thanks."
"Are you okay? I know it's not quite how you wanted to end the season."
"Yeah, I'm okay." Tim's lips pressed against my stomach. "By the way, I liked your sign. I'm glad you want me goin' home with ya."
I blushed. "Ugh. I hoped you wouldn't notice. It's so embarrassing."
He chuckled.
Coach Taylor started ushering people out, so Tim kissed me shortly. "I'll see you later, Cat."
"Bye, Tim."
*****
Everyone went home after the game since there wasn't a party to celebrate. No one complained about it, ready to sleep off the loss.
Mrs. Taylor dropped me off at school, so I could catch a ride home with Tim. She bid me a good night before driving away with a sleeping Julie.
The team bus was in front of the locker room door and Tim was already heading over to me. He seemed a lot happier than when he first got on the bus.
"Good ride back?"
Tim pushed me back against his truck and captured my mouth. He grabbed my head, tilting it to deepen our kiss. I got caught up in the moment, pulling him by his waist so we were flush against each other. I zeroed in on how soft his lips were, how he knew exactly what to do with them to make my brain malfunction. It was one of the best kisses he ever gave me. My eyes took a few seconds longer to open when he pulled his lips away.
"What was that for?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.
"I love football and everything about it." He kissed me again. "Now football is over."
"Yeah, it is."
"I'm madly in love with you and everything you are. I want everything to be about you now. About us."
"Really? You're want to drop football just like that?"
"I've got something better right here."
A slow kiss.
"Okay. Let's focus on us."
"You are gonna focus on college, Barton, and I'm going to focus on you and making your life easier."
"No college for you?"
He shook his head. "I don't like school now and I don't expect I'll like it in college. I'm sick of caring about my grades."
"You don't care about them now," I giggled.
"Exactly."
"Okay." I stood on my toes to kiss him again. "I support your choice."
"Can I go home with you now?"
I nodded and gently pushed Tim away from me. I laughed when his hand brushed against my butt. He tried looking innocent, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.
Tim took my hand the second our doors shut. I leaned over to kiss him before he pulled out of the parking lot.
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janeaustinforevermore · 2 months
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MY MӨƬΉΣЯƧ DΛЦGΉƬΣЯ (chapter 3)
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(Ben is pictured above)
Summary: Alara has a confrontation from an acquaintance, and learns things about herself she never saw coming. (Shorter chapter than usual)
contains: cussing, sexual innuendos, mentions of panic attacks.
1, 2, 3
Three weeks later I was leading crafts when Annie Freeman walked in with her little brother and a look of purpose on her face. 
"Hey, are y'all here for the tie dye session?" I asked while helping one of the littles.
"John, go grab your supplies and get started." She said to him while glancing back at me. For someone so un-athletic she sure can look intimidating. "Alara right? We need to talk." 
"Um... sure, yeah. Just give me a sec." I set down the dye bottle and motioned her to follow me towards the back. 
I hesitated as we stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. "So what's going on? Oh gods, did Vivienne hook up with your boyfriend? I'll talk to her, I'm so sorry." 
"Actually, me and him are fine. Which is why I'm pissed to find out you were telling Ben to ask me out?! What the fuck Alara?!" 
To give you an image of how impressive it is that she looked scary, I'll have to describe how she looks. Annie Freeman is a 5'4, short haired brunette, almond shaped with hazel eyes, and olive skin. Annie is known for her battle strategy's, and while she's great at fighting in theory, she has almost no muscle mass; despite this, I was still terrified as she glared up at me in her white tee shirt and linen pants. 
"Oh god, did he ask you out?!" I yelled excitedly with my hands over my mouth. Looking back, this was not the best move. 
"YES ALARA. HE DID! AND NOW I GET TO EXPLAIN TO MY BOYFRIEND WHY  A GUY IVE SPOKEN TO ONLY A HANDFUL OF TIMES IS ASKING ME OUT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!!" As she said this I saw others starting to look over in curiosity. 
"Hey, maybe let's do this somewhere else-" 
"NO! YOU DONT GET TO SCREW SORH MY LIFE, THEN IGNORE ANY ACCOUNTABILITY! THAT SUCKS! YOU ARE A LITERAL CHILD OF APHRODITE! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER!" Tears started in her eyes and I felt my face go red in embarrassment. 
"I'm so sorry Annie. I had no idea he was going to ask you in front of everyone, I swear I would have stopped him if I knew." I looked down over at the others, seeing them whisper to each other as I continued. "But I will admit, I may have encouraged him to ask you out? I just saw how much he liked you, and I didn't think of what it would mean for you." 
I saw her face slowly calm as I explained. After a few seconds she looked at me with a face that made me feel like shit. 
"I really like Cole, and I had to fight for him to even notice me. It's not the easiest to get a guys attention when you're as independent as I am." As I said this I watched her tuck her hair behind her ear in an oddly unconfident manner. 
"I'm so sorry. I'll talk to Ben, I can even talk to Cole if you want."
She sighed and shook her head. "No, I know him, he'll be fine. A little mad but I can deal with that myself." 
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved to hear her say that, I don't know crap about Cole.
"Hey, you don't have to answer but, what happened to Ben after he asked?" 
A badly timed question but I needed to be prepared for whatever was coming.
"Honestly I don't know. He approached me at archery and tried to pull me aside but I said no. After a minute he just decided to ask anyway, and then it all just spiraled. I got embarrassed and asked if he was serious and ran off when I saw that everyone was staring. I would feel bad if he wasn't a jerk for putting me in that position." 
"I get it. Hey, I'm gonna go look for him and try to see what's going on. Let me know if you ever want to talk about it. And again, I'm so sorry, it's really none of my business." She seemed to soften as I said this, looking at me with a much gentler gaze than before.
As I ran off to go find Ben I thought of what this might mean for us. Would we keep seeing each other? Would we call it off? Would we stay friends or would we cut each other off? And weirdly, I wasn't sure what I hoped would happen.
I heard a large crashing from the forest as I walked, and went towards it in hopes of finding him. Upon getting there I saw him, in dirty clothing, sobbing smashing whatever he could find with what at the time looked like an axe. 
"Ben?" I called out hesitantly, from far enough back to dodge a straw axe. 
"Lara?" He cried out, throwing the weapon on the ground. 
"It's me buddy. I'm here, I love you so much, you did so good. Do you know that?" I pulled him into my arms as I said this, feeling him shake against me. 
"She- she said no- she said she'd-" he stuttered out before the crying resumed.
"I know baby. I know. M But you did everything you could have. Now it's time to move on. What do you need?"
"I don't- I don't kn-know- I just-" He started to hyperventilate as he spoke, his eyes blowing wider and his chest rising and falling quickly. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my chest as I asked him questions to ground him. 5 minutes later he was calmed down and we were sitting together silently with his head on my lap. I decided to break the silence. 
"So... what does this mean. For us, I mean." I stared out at the lake, scared of what would come next. 
"Um... I don't really know. If I'm being honest..." he sat up and looked at me while he stared at our interlocked hands. "I don't think I can do this anymore." 
And weirdly enough, my heart dropped. I had thought that we had said we didn't have feelings for each other. It was mutual. Apparently, I don't understand the meaning behind mutual. 
"Oh. Okay. Well. Yeah, I- I get it. Let's just be friends then?" I turned my head away hoping he couldn't see the tears forming. 
"Please. I would love that. Friends." I could feel his sad smile as he said this. I felt him squeeze my hand and kiss my cheek before pulling away. 
Two of us got our hearts broken that day. And as he walked away I pictured our relationship in flashes. Meeting him at 16, group hangouts by the fire, him smiling when I told our old group about the guy I'd met. I played back the night we got together, we were both a little drunk, I twisted his curls and told him we were "twins". He pulled me in for a kiss. Then a few more. The next morning we agreed to just stay friends, I'd been rooting for Annie and he knew I was waiting for "the one". At some point along the late night walks, and secret hookups behind the amphitheater, the lines got blurred and I forgot how to keep it separate. But the moment I knew I was screwed was when I hit a bullseye at archery and he spun me in the air with a laugh. I remember looking into his eyes and thinking "so this is now it happens..." I should have ended it then. But as my father always said, "You're a pretty girl, so you don't have to worry about not being smart." I should've known not to take that assholes advice.
As I laid in bed that night and reflected on the day I prayed to my mother, 'Please don't forget me. I want my own love story.' 
And at 1:27 pm, on the summer solstice, my mother answered my prayer.
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one-rosy-sock · 3 years
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Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)
Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...
Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 
Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.
It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.
As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.
And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.
You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.
His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.
You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.
Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.
“Mr. Krill?”
He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.
Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.
“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.
“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.
He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.
Hastily, he pulls away.
“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”
He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.
After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.
You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.
Your patient stares in visible confusion.
“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”
“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.
You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.
“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.
Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.
“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”
This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”
“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”
He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.
“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.
You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.
“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”
“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”
You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”
Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”
“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”
“We mostly spoke about my mother.”
“Oh?”
“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.
“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.
Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”
“You did?”
“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”
You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”
Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”
“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”
Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”
He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.
“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”
The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.
“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”
Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”
“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”
His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.
The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."
“No."
He flinches.
"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”
Abner nods.
“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”
“I don’t understand…”
“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”
He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”
“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”
“But I am?”
“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”
Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.
“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”
“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”
“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”
The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.
You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.
“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”
The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”
“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”
“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”
With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”
He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.
“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”
“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”
"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."
His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."
“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”
Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.
“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”
“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”
He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.
You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.
You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.
It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.
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bqstqnbruin · 3 years
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Always be my plus one
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Here we go, y'all. We're ignoring that it's 3:30 in the morning but I'm just yeeting the first part of this into the wild and hoping it goes well. Ignore typos, we all know that everything I post is a first draft.
I need to thank @hockeywocs, @chara-hugs, and @zinka8 (WHY CAN't I TAG YOU) and all the anons who have come into my ask box to help me with this! ily all!
WARNING: some description of child birth
Hope you like it!
Series masterlist
------------------------------
Part 1: Christmas Day and the day after Christmas
The name for Christmas comes from the shortening of “Christ’s Mass,” a traditionally Christian holiday that celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ to the Virgin Mary and Joseph in a manger in Bethlehem. Although the exact date of his birthday is unknown, around the fourth century the Catholic church fixed the date of this celebration to be December 25th. Other religions and belief systems have similar celebrations around the same time, such as the Winter Solstice, or Midwinter. Celebrations include a mixture of pre-Christian, Christian, and non-secular traditions, such as gift giving, completing an Advent Calendar or Advent Wreath, Christmas music, church services, a special meal with family and loved ones, Christmas trees, lights, nativity scenes, and Santa Claus to name a few.
The day after Christmas, known as Boxing Day in some European countries, is traditionally known as a shopping holiday. In America, this is typically the day when people start to return any unwanted Christmas gifts, stock up for next Christmas on items that are marked down on sale, or see friends that they hadn’t been able to see before Christmas.
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December 21, 2021
“One fifteen means fifteen minutes before I have to clock in. Fifteen minutes before a twelve-hour shift that I’m not ready for and don’t have enough caffeine for,” Anne muttered to herself, staring at her reflection through her car's rearview mirror. “But, fifteen minutes before getting to do something that I thankfully love, something that I enjoy doing.” No matter how long the shift in front of her, Anne had developed a habit of giving herself a pep talk before she got out of her car. “Whatever happens, you’ve helped someone.”
The last part wasn’t always true, knowing that there was the possibility that something could go wrong that she and the other nurses and doctors wouldn’t be able to fix. Lying to herself that everything was going to be ok was the only want to convince herself to go into the hospital every day. Finally mustering up enough courage to get out of her car, she grabs her bag from the backseat, heading in for yet another long day right before the Christmas holiday.
The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from the job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.
“Hey, Tyson, come on!” comes from inside the open doors of the building, Anne not paying attention to who it was coming from, causing her to collide with a stranger, spilling her much-needed coffee all over the both of them.
“Shit,” she says, not looking up from the brown splatter on what should be mint green scrubs. “I am so sorry.”
Standing in front of her was a curly-haired boy, about her age, wearing what she was sure was a Colorado hockey jersey. Beyond that, she had no idea. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy you another,” he offers, ignoring the persistent calls from his friends to hurry up.
Anne checks her watch: 1:19. “It’s ok. I don’t really have the time, I have to clock in in eleven minutes, and knowing the cafeteria or the vending machines, it would take a lot longer,” she says, trying to get by him. Before he can protest, she gets to the elevator that would bring her to her floor, thankful that it was ready to get her there without her having to wait. The doors start to close, only to be stopped by a hand stuck through them, the curly-haired boy with the coffee stain down the front of him getting on the elevator with her. Anne gives him a confused look, begging him to explain why he was trying to make her late for her shift.
“If you aren’t going to let me buy you one now to make up for it, at least let me see where you work so I can drop one off for you.”
Anne rolls her eyes, unamused by the man in front of her as he attempts to flirt with her. “That would be nice, but the chances of me getting it before it goes cold are slim to none, so you need to suggest something else if you really want to buy me a coffee.”
“Let me get your number so I can buy you one when you aren’t working?” he asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 1:25. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”
The elevator dings, signaling that they were on Anne’s floor, opening the door to nurses and doctors running around, expectant fathers who were probably kicked out of the delivery room for making the mom too nervous pacing the halls, grandparents trying to control younger children who had little to no idea what was going on as they waited in the strange building. Anne walks to the backroom to drop her stuff off and clock in, typing her information into the stranger’s phone as he followed her like a puppy, his friend’s texts coming across the top of his screen asking where he went so they could leave.
“I’m Anne, and I’ve got to go,” she tells him, handing back his phone. There was no way he was going to text her, and it’s not like the coffee was that big of a deal to him. She could go to the vending machine down the hall and grab one during her break, or have someone else on their break do it for her if she needed it sooner.
“Can’t wait for our coffee date, Anne,” he says, winking at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back down the hallway.
“Who is he?” her coworker, Jess asked, popping up out of nowhere. “He’s hot.”
“In more ways than one, apparently,” Anne jokes, “he’s also wearing my hot coffee on his shirt.”
“You didn’t,” Jess scolds her, turning her around to see the coffee that was spilled down Anne’s own outfit, knowing Anne’s tendency to be a little absent-minded as she gets wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Anne, you did.”
“Not on purpose!”
“DeFormicola?” Anne’s supervisor, Jackson, pops his head into the room just as she was clocking in, “We need you in room 414.”
“Saved by the bell,” Anne teases, walking down the hall to where all the noise was coming from, trying to throw on the appropriate clothing before she went into the room, struggling to get the gloves on as she entered.
“Ok, Erin, we’re going to need you to push,” one of the doctors says, Anne standing behind him as she watched the baby’s head crowning.
This was her favorite part of the job, helping the mother stay calm and trying to make sure that despite the child coming out of her, she was as comfortable as possible. Normally, she would be with the mom as soon as she came in, Erin clearly nervous as to what was going on. They had to be first-time parents, the dad going back and forth to Erin’s side and behind the doctor, looking mortified each time and clearly regretting what he was seeing.
“It’s a boy!” the doctor says, handing the new baby to a breathless Erin.
“A boy! A boy!” the dad yells, going out to the hallway, Erin clearly unamused by whatever antics he was going about.
“Don’t worry, he’s not the first one to do that,” Anne reassures her, knowing that something like that would happen at least five more times during her shift, hearing the father’s voice repeating the phrase. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and then get him right back to you, ok?” Anne asks, reaching for the baby as everyone else around her tries to clean everything else up.
“Be careful with him,” Erin warns, not meaning anything bad by it. She was definitely a first time mother.
“I will be,” Anne tells her, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket as she does. “So you have a name picked out yet?”
“We were thinking Matthew.”
Anne turns her head, smiling at Erin. “That’s a good name. My older brother is named Matthew.”
Erin smiles at her, the father finally coming back in, clearly overjoyed by the birth of their new baby. Anne hands him back to his parents, Matthew screaming his head off as they get wheeled into another room.
Anne goes over to the desk, sitting down where she was supposed to be for the start of her shift to do paperwork, but the uncertainty in the hour by hour of the schedule was not surprising. She pulls out her phone, ‘Maybe: Tyson’ coming up across her screen.
“He’s already texting me,” she alerts Jess whose head whips away from her computer to look over Anne’s shoulder at what message the mystery man could have sent her.
“He’s horny.”
“Jessica!” she squeals, wishing she was more shocked by what her friend had said. “Why is that always your first reaction to a boy sending a message?”
She shrugs, swiveling back to her own computer, “I’m normally right. What’s he saying?”
“He wants to know when he can buy me coffee.”
“Horny.”
“Enough.”
“You should date him.”
Anne turns to her, clearly unamused by Jess’s need to continue the conversation. “I don’t have to date anyone.”
Jess lets out a long sigh, Anne knowing that she was rolling her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying you should.”
“Ok, I don’t want to date anyone.”
“Oh, come on Anne,” Jess says, getting up and plopping herself on the desk in front of Anne, fiddling with the wire connecting the mouse to the rest of the computer. “You work in a maternity ward where people become parents every day, and you haven’t even thought of finding a man?”
“You don’t have a point,” Anne tells her, not making eye contact with her.
“My point,” Jess says, leaning over to block Anne’s view of her computer screen, “is that you can’t be single forever.”
“Says who?”
“Didn’t you tell me that you were named after the patron saint of the town your grandmothers were from?”
Anne rolls her eyes, knowing where this was going. It was going in the same direction that this conversation always went in when she had it with her mom every single holiday. “All four of us are named after the patron saints of the towns our grandparents are from.”
“St. Anne is the patron saint of child care, grandparents and mothers.”
“She’s also that patron saint of unmarried women, so your argument is invalid, as usual.”
Jess takes in a breath to say something, cut off by Jackson calling for Jess to go into one of the delivery rooms. “Just don’t say no because you think you have to be single,” she advises as she walks away.
Anne leans back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is how Christmas is going to go, isn’t it?” she asks herself.
=============
December 25, 2021
The number of cars lining her parent's driveway meant that she was one of the last ones there, but knowing her aunts and uncles, she wasn’t the last one there. Her parents were the ones who did Christmas Day for her dad’s family, Christmas Eve being the anniversary of her mom’s mom’s death, and, on top of that, Teresa doesn’t talk to her family over some argument and grudge being held over their parent's house.
Scanning the cars, she didn’t see the one belonging to her brother Matthew, or his wife, Stephanie. “I’ll just leave Harper’s gifts in the car,” Anne mutters to herself, trying to juggle as many gifts as she could while also balancing the box of pastries her mom asked her to pick up for dessert.
Without a free hand to open the door, Anne did everything she could to ring the doorbell with her elbow, praying that someone would come to open the door before she dropped anything.
Her younger brother, Sebastian, opens the door, a disappointed look on his face. “What the fuck is all this for?” he asks, taking some of the bags from her arms to lighten her load.
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she remarks, “Yours is still in my car if you’re wondering.”
“Did you have to get gifts for everyone?” he asks, Anne greeting her aunts and uncles on the way to the tree to put everything down for later.
“Well, it’s Hazel’s first Christmas," she explains, referencing their sister's youngest daughter, "So getting her something and not getting the other children something seemed wrong, and then Jessica took me shopping and kept saying things like ‘oh this would be perfect for Lucy,’ or ‘oh don’t have you an aunt who likes mystery novels?’ And everything went downhill from there.”
Sebby groans, walking with Anne back out to her car to retrieve the rest of the gifts, Anne still holding the box of pastries since they hadn’t made it to the kitchen yet. “Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel that the bookstore was selling.”
“Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel the bookstore was selling,” Anne laughs, Sebby nodding his head. “I got a gift receipt.”
“What did you end up getting Matthew?” he asks her. Anne had texted Sebby in panic on Black Friday, coming home from a day of shopping with Lucy that left her without a gift for Lucy’s twin brother.
Grabbing the rest of the gifts and handing them to Sebby, she closes the door to her car and starts to go back inside. “I found this ‘make your own wine’ kit that I think he would like. That way Steph doesn’t have to listen to him complaining about how the stuff she drinks is ‘too sweet.’”
“What about for me?” Sebby asks, nudging Anne with his elbow as they arrange the rest of the gifts in the already mountainous pile under the tree.
“Oh, I knew there was someone I forgot,” she says sarcastically, Sebby ripping the bow off one of her carefully wrapped presents and throwing it at her. “Ok, now I’m never getting you a gift again.”
Sebby laughs, helping his older sister off the ground. The two of them wander into the kitchen, slipping in unnoticed due to the sheer number of family members and noise that was filling the room. “Aunt Anne! Aunt Anne!” Harper and Skylar squeal in unison when her nieces spot her, hoping that either she or Sebby had grabbed Harper, Matthew, and Stephanie’s gifts. She didn’t think there was anything left in her trunk.
“Hey there, fireflies,” Anne greets them, bending down as they both kiss her on the cheek. “Guess what? Santa stopped by my place and left some gifts for you, but he made me promise that you two were really good today if you want to open them after dessert, ok?”
The two girls nod excitedly, bouncing up and down at Anne’s words. To still be young and believe in Santa, that must be nice.
“Hey, ma,” Anne finally finds her mother, putting down the box of pastries in front of her and kissing her on the cheek. “Upstairs or downstairs fridge?”
“It goes downstairs. Come on, I have someone I want you to meet,” her mother says, dragging you away from your aunts that had aggregated around her. They all had excited looks on their faces, something that instantly worried Anne as she followed her mother down the stairs with the box. She could hear Matthew and Lucy’s voices, knowing that her brother and sister’s wife and husband had to be down there with them, too. “Matthew told me about this friend of his who couldn’t make it home for Christmas,” her mother whispers before she got to the last step.
“Mom, no,” Anne says, already knowing where this was heading. “I told you: I don’t need a boyfriend.”
“But I don’t have a grandson,” her mom whines, shaking Anne’s hand in her own against her chest.
“How is that my fault?”
“If you just find a nice boy, and get married, I just know you’re going to be my child that has a boy.”
“Oh my god,” Anne groans, pushing past her to get to the fridge.
Teresa pulls Anne over to the couches where her siblings were, Lucy sitting on one with her feet in Jason’s lap, Jason’s hand lazily rubbing his wife’s shins. Matthew was on the other, Stephanie nuzzled against his shoulder, all four of them with a glass of wine and three bottles open. Next to Matthew was a guy sitting there awkwardly, straightening his back when he saw you while Sebby tried to contain his laughter as he sat on the floor. “Jeremy, this is my youngest daughter, Anne. Anne, this is Jeremy,” she introduces the two of them before running up the stairs.
“I do have a girlfriend, actually,” Jeremy says, “So I’m sorry.”
Anne and her siblings burst out laughing, Lucy pouring her sister a glass of wine. “If only this were the first time Ma tried to set Anne up with a guy who was seeing someone.”
“I even tried to tell her that but she didn’t listen,” Matthew adds. “It’s better than when she tried to set you up with Adam,” he says, referencing Lucy’s partner at their optometry practice.
“Yeah, his husband wasn’t too thrilled by that potential match,” Sebby says.
They all keep talking, Anne just sitting and listening to them reminisce about all the people their parents had tried to set her up within their desperate attempt for her to no longer be single. It didn’t help that the last time she listened to them about dating was Andy, the boy who cheated on her when they got to college. Apparently going to school half an hour from each other wasn’t enough for him to keep up their two-year relationship instead of shoving his tongue down multiple girls throats before doing god only knows what else.
“When do you think they’ll stop trying to set me up with someone?” Anne finally pips in, accidentally cutting off something Jeremy was saying as she stared at the wine she was swirling in the glass.
“When you get a boyfriend,” her siblings say in unison.
“I hate all of you for doing that,” she laughs. “But, seriously, why is it so important that I have a boyfriend?”
“Oh, you know your mother,” Jason says, putting his glass down on the floor. “She saw what Lucy and I had and then wanted that for all her children.”
Lucy playfully shoves him, kissing him as Anne and Sebby groan. “She just wants you to be happy, and to her and dad, happiness is marriage and a family.”
“Where am I going to meet someone if I go to work or here where they try to bring in non-single non-potential suitors?” she asks, looking over at Jeremy. “Sorry.”
He shrugs, not able to get a word in before Matthew starts, “What if you met someone at work like how Steph and I met?”
“Yeah because there are so many single men walking around the maternity ward,” she says, her phone buzzing in front of her. “What about you, though, Seb, how’s Collins?” Anne asks, changing the subject.
“Eh,” he shrugs, his eyes wandering to Anne’s phone screen, “I’m not sure we’re going to last to graduation.”
“What?” Lucy squeals, causing Jason to jump as she threw her legs out of his lap. “I thought you said she was ‘the one’?”
Sebby looks down at his glass, a stupid smirk on his face. “Nah, that changed. She doesn’t want me to go to law school in Boston, she wants me to stay here or move to California with her.”
“But the adventure of moving with your girlfriend to another state!” Matthew offers, Stephanie rolling her eyes.
“Matthew, not everyone needs adventure like you do, hon.”
Anne’s phone buzzes again, a reminder that she had a text waiting for her. Picking it up before Sebby can see who it is, ever the nosy little brother, she sees a message from Tyson popping up as they continue their conversation about Sebby’s love life and Anne’s lack thereof. . They had only been texting for a few days since their encounter at the hospital, but every time his name came up she couldn’t help but smile, lifting the wine glass to her lips to cover it in hopes of her siblings not noticing.
How’s your Christmas been so far?
A simple ‘eh’ as a response was all that she needed to send. It could be worse, but her mom trying to set her up with a guy with a girlfriend was definitely not something that made for a good Christmas. The only thing that could be worse is if their dad came home early from the flight he was on with a guy he picked up in whatever country he had to go to that prompted him to miss the holiday. Normal dads who had to travel would bring their kids back little trinkets or a postcard, but Anne wouldn’t put it past Tony to borderline kidnap someone from the plane he was flying and bring them home for Anne.
Tyson’s contact comes up again, an incoming call that prompted Anne to step away so she could answer it. “What’s up?”
“You said your Christmas was ‘eh.’ What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story,” she groans, pressing her back up against the fridge.
“Well, what if I have something that might make it better?” he flirts.
“Oh? Like what”
“What if I said I’m 100% free to buy you that coffee any time tomorrow, since I know you said you didn’t have work, and you can tell me about Christmas then?”
Anne hears her siblings laugh not ten feet away, praying that they couldn’t hear her conversation. Taking in a deep breath, she knew that her cheeks were turning pink at his words. “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, walking back over to join her siblings.
“I’ll text you details,” he tells her, hanging up.
“Oh, my god,” Lucy yells, interrupting their conversation. “Anne was talking to a boy.”
“What the hell? What makes you think that?” she asks.
“Your cheeks are red," Lucy says, prompting Anne to raise her hand to feel the heat radiating from her face, "Who else would you be seeing tomorrow?” her sister eggs on, her eyebrow raised since she knew she was right.
Anne tries to find her words, unable to think of a name that wasn’t a guy's name to blurt out.
“Is it Tyson?” Sebby asks, Anne’s unlocked phone in his hand.
“You jackass!” she yells, lunging at her brother to try to get her phone back.
Teresa’s footsteps sound down the stairs, her poking her head between the gap in the stair rail and the steps themselves, Anne and Sebby looking like a deer in headlights when they see their mom. “I was coming to say that dinner was ready, but what’s going on here?”
“Anne has a boy she wasn’t telling us about,” Sebby blabs, earning an ‘I’ll kill you’ look from Anne.
“Oh! Annie!” their mom squeals, running down the stairs to pick her up off the ground and hug her. “Why didn’t you tell us about him?”
“I, uh,” Anne starts, still not sure what to say.
“You have to bring him to New Year’s Day at Uncle Vince’s house,” she tells her, the rest of the siblings following Anne being dragged back up the stairs for dinner, her mom announcing that Anne had a boyfriend when she, in fact, didn’t.
=============
December 26, 2021
“So, are you going to tell me why your Christmas was only ‘eh,’ or am I going to have to guess?” Tyson asks, setting down two cups of coffee in front of them. Tyson had asked Anne to meet him at a small coffee shop that was within walking distance of her apartment, thankful that she didn’t have to drive through Denver on the day where everyone was returning anything unwanted, like her Aunt Lisa returning one of the copies of the Agatha Christie novel that her and Sebby each got her.
Anne groans, the images of last night’s dinner flashing through her mind. “Can we talk about something else, first?”
“Fine,” Tyson says, taking a long sip of the coffee, “What did you get for gifts?”
She raises her eyebrow at him, Tyson mirroring her expression except with a goofy grin on his face. Rolling her eyes, she starts listing off the stuff she got: “My parents got me a new attachment for my KitchenAid stand mixer since my younger brother, Sebby, broke it last time he was over and a voucher for a flight anywhere in the country like they do every year, um, some gift cards from my aunts and uncles, my nieces all did their best attempts at drawing a portrait of me, Sebby told me he was going to come over and make dinner for me, which scares me because he can’t cook, Matthew and his wife got me some books they thought I would like, and Lucy and her husband got me this bracelet,” Anne tells him, extending her arm out to show him.
“I have so many questions,” Tyson starts.
“I might have answers,” Anne tells him, raising her cup to him.
“How big is your family?”
“I’m the third of four, Lucy and Matthew are twins and are about five years older than me, then Sebby is a year younger than me. Lucy has two daughters and Matthew has one. My dad has two brothers; one older, one younger. The older one has three kids, the younger has two and then three grandchildren.”
“Mom’s family?”
Anne looks down at her coffee. “I’m the only one who talks to anyone on that side of the family. My mom and her brother got into a fight when their parents died over what was left to them. My uncle has two daughters and two granddaughters.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking between the coffee and Anne.
She shrugs, not really bothered by it at this point. “It’s whatever. I talk to them because I want to, so it’s fine. What other questions do you have, though?”
“The ticket voucher?”
“Yeah,” Anne laughs, “Our dad is a pilot with Southwest Airlines, so every Christmas they give us a voucher to fly anywhere we want. They say they want to make sure that we take time for ourselves, but I think Dad gets some sort of bonus for every voucher he buys.”
Tyson throws his head back laughing. It wasn’t that funny, but seeing him so happy, Anne couldn’t help but smile back at him. “What about you, what did you get for Christmas?”
“My mom and sister flew down and basically restocked my kitchen for me.”
“Ok, that’s a great present, though,” she says. “Where was your dad?”
The smile from Tyson’s face fades, not looking up at Anne. “I never knew him. My mom and grandmother raised me.”
“Oh, Tyson,” she says, reaching out for his hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
He shrugs, a forced smile on his face. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I don’t think. My mom and my grandmother are the reason I am who I am. I wouldn’t give that up or change it.”
The two of them sit there, Anne trying to think about how many times she helped deliver a baby when the father was nowhere to be found. She normally figured they were busy or just not in the delivery room, not being there all together was something she couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But enough about me. Why was your Christmas ‘eh’?”
“My family has it in their heads that I need a boyfriend,” she admits, Tyson smirking at her words. “And my brother saw your texts coming up on my phone and being the asshole that he is, announced that I was texting a boy, so now, I need to find someone to bring with me to my uncle’s house on New Year’s Day that I can pass off as you.”
Tyson gives her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t you just bring me?”
Anne sits there, a shocked look on her face. “Because they think ‘Tyson’ is my boyfriend, and you aren’t?”
“So we pretend. They don’t need to know,” he shrugs, acting like it was no big deal.
“That would never work,” Anne dismisses him.
“Why not? You don’t think I’m a good actor?” Tyson whines, acting insulted at Anne’s words.
She scoffs, “Ok, one, hockey players are never good actors, and two, Sebby or Lucy are bound to figure out that you are not my boyfriend. Sebby wants to be a lawyer so he analyzes everything and Lucy is just this perfect anomaly of a human who would be bound to figure it out.”
“I think I can play your boyfriend for New Year’s Day,” he says, confidence dripping in his voice.
“No, I can’t have you do that.”
The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from thhe job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.
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broqkenhearted · 3 years
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𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊
𝕸𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊: Chapter 3
𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙: Chapter 4
𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘: Chapter 2
𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: Look at Bottom of Chapter (you can comment or message if you want to be in my tag list) 
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𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: An innocent school girl is new to SOPA. She becomes friends with the President of the school and his group. Y/N sees this one group of boys and one of them intrigues her. These boys are the “badasses” of the school and act all cold. But there is more to this boy than what is seen on the outside. This boy is no other than a vampire who is in the gang named Ateez, and finds his mate, who is none other than the innocent school girl. What love will blossom between these two?
𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: bits of fluff, smut, angst, highschool au, vampire au
𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: vampire!san x reader
𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4,515
𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: blood, swearing, mature content (warnings beforehand)
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Yunho POV
I could feel Y/N relax behind me as she snuggled herself into my back. I couldn't help but smile. She really was something else.
"Cute," I mumbled.
I hope she'll except us for who we are...
Y/N POV
The motorcycle ride ended a lot faster than I had expected. It was quite relaxing actually. I could ride all day if I could.
I hopped off the bike and took the helmet off. When I took it off, I swung my hair around in an effort to get it less tangled. I could see San staring at me as I did so. I looked over to him and it looked like his eyes just flashed purple??? I'm prolly losing my mind, so I just brushed it off. The boys invited inside their house, and may I tell you, they own a mansion. A big ass mansion to be in fact.
I was gawking at it, until I heard some of the boys chuckle.
"Holy shit, how rich are y'all?" I asked.
"A lot richer than you think," Seonghwa said cockily.
"Oh well no shit Sherlock," I responded rolling my eyes.
When we all entered the front door, the rain began to pour buckets over the city.
The house gave me an awfully sketchy vibe,  it was really dark and gloomy. "They have all this money, and they choose to live in this dark ass mansion," I thought.
"I guess I should thank y'all for making sure I don't drown in the rain," I said giggling.
"It's not a problem! In all honesty, we're surprised you walked away from Twice like that," Hongjoong responded.
"Why? They're the average obsessed bitches. Always trying to grab the popular boys' attention," I said rolling my eyes.
"Well yeah, but they won't hesitate to make your life total hell," Wooyoung sighed.
"If they seriously think I'm going to let them walk over me, they're wrong. If someone ends up dead, don't be surprised," I growled.
The guys looked at me surprised.
I sighed. "Yeah I know, I don't seem to be the person who would act like that, right? Well I'm super stiff around new people. That's why I act shy. But when people get on my nerves, shit goes down. So I'm telling y'all this now.....don't fuck with me."
"And what if we do?" Seonghwa said, smirking.
"Is that a challenge, Seonghwa?"
"Maybe...."
Immediately, I shot a serious stare at him. At first, I decided to play a stare off with him at first. I slowly walked towards him, then pounced. I tackled him to the ground and and put him in a headlock. I was in a position where I could pin his arms and legs down so he couldn't fight back.
"I told you, don't fuck with me."
At that moment, Seonghwa's eyes turned red like how San's changed earlier. I pushed him off of me and got up. I looked from Seonghwa to San in confusion.
My confused face made everyone else just as confused.
"What's wrong?" Mingi asked.
"Your eyes," I responded blandly.
At that moment all the guys except San showed faces of panic.
"Why did they turn red?"
"I think you're seeing things, Y/N."
"How could I be seeing things when it happened to San and Seonghwa?"
Yunho glared at San. San shrugged.
"Explain. I'm not stupid. You know your eyes did that. And, why the hell are you wearing clothes like that?"
"Before we say anything, please don't be scared and run off," Wooyoung sighed.
"Talk," was all I said.
The guys looked at each other as if they were trying to decide who would speak.
"Fine, I'll say it because y'all are being to big of pussies to talk," San growled. "We're vampires."
I began to laugh my ass off.
"V-Vampires?" I said between laughs. "Great joke guys."
I was suddenly pinned against a wall.
"This isn't a damn joke," San said.
His eyes were turning a dark crimson this time. I could see his fangs start to come out.
I was trying to process what was happening when San let me go.
"And before you ask, no, we aren't going to drink your blood and kill you," Jongho said.
"I should go home," I mumbled.
"You aren't going anywhere," San retorted.
"And why the hell do YOU care?" I spat.
"Are you ok?" Yunho asked.
"No, I'm not ok!" I yelled. "I fucking knew you guys were familiar. I should've known better than this."
"What do you mean?" Wooyoung replied sadly.
"What do I mean? WHAT DO I MEAN!? YOU ASSHOLES KILLED HER!" I was crying at this point.
I looked back at the guys to see their eyes change to blue. I walked over to San and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"You fucking murdered my best friend," I said as I threw San to the ground.
The guys were shocked. No one has ever treated San like that. San's eyes turned black. I was a bit startled to see his eyes change to that color, but I shook the feeling off.
"You asked for it bitch!" San screamed.
The guys rushed to hold him back but I stopped them.
"Don't. I'm not scared of him or what he can do. If he's going to kill me, let him. At least she won't be alone up there anymore."
Third Person POV
Y/N collapsed on the ground in tears. The boys were heartbroken. San even felt his heart hurt a little bit. The guys looked at the poor girl unsure of what to do.
"Where's the bathroom?" Y/N asked quietly.
"Down the hallway, first door to the right," Hongjoong responded.
WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AFTER THIS POINT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Y/N got up and followed his directions to be lead to a large bathroom. Y/N locked the door and slid down against it sobbing. Little did Y/N know, the guys could hear and see her thoughts. Soon they could smell her blood.
"Guys, is that her blood!?" Yeosang asked frantically.
Yeosang decided that he wouldn't wait for their answer and just booked it to the bathroom.
"Y/N, please open the door!"
There was no response. Not even the sound of her crying could be heard. Yeosang teleported into the bathroom to see a horrific sight. Yeosang called for the guys to come, and they all teleported in to see an unconscious Y/N in Yeosangs's arms with blood pooling out of her wrists and neck. Seonghwa, being the healer of the group dashed towards a crying Yeosang. He lifted Y/N into his arms and booked it into his room to help her. The guys turned back towards Yeosang. They have rarely seen him cry before, and the fact that he was crying over a girl he met in one day was shocking.
"I-I can't believe I'm s-saying t-this, but W-Wooyoung's right. She's d-different," Yeosang barely spoke. "She c-can't die!"
The rest of Ateez felt the same way. She was different, special even. All they knew was that they were going to protect her.
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was frantically working to stop the bleeding and stitch her up. He managed to successfully do so, and he soon found himself looking at the poor girl. He walked out of his room to meet with the very worried guys.
"I think she'll be ok," Seonghwa said.
"I can't believe she actually tried to kill herself," Wooyoung said. "How are we even going to talk to her? She said we killed her best friend, she hates us!"
The guys groaned and sighed in agreement with Wooyoung.
2 Hours Later
"Urrggh," Y/N said as she woke up.
She looked around to realize that her wrists and neck are bandaged up and that she's in an unfamiliar room. Y/N arose from the bed she was laying in and proceeded to walk out. The room was attached to the hallway, so Y/N easily found her way to the living room. She could hear the sound of male voices, so Y/N assumed it was the guys. Y/N had to use the assistance of the walls to walk, so when Y/N got to the end of the hallway, she stood there leaning against the cool wall. The boys could hear movement behind them, and when they turned around they saw you there leaning against the door frame with glossy eyes. Y/N resumed her efforts of walking but San was the first person to teleport to her. He could see the pure emptiness and sadness in her eyes and it broke him apart. Before she could reject, San picked Y/N up and carried her over to the couch. She was placed between San and Seonghwa.
"How are you feeling?" Seonghwa asked.
"I've been a lot better," Y/N said with a small smile.
The guys realized that no matter what the situation is, Y/N manages to make the situation a lot lighter and brighter.
"Y/N, we are so sorry," Hongjoong started.
Y/N sighed, "I appreciate your apology, but you should know that I probably won't forgive you for it. She was the only person who made my life have light, so not having her here is really difficult."
"You look really tired, Y/N," Yeosang said.
"I just have to move around to get my blood flow back up that's all," She said.
Y/N looked back at Yeosang to his the fear in his eyes.
"You were the person who walked in, weren't you?" Y/N asked Yeosang.
Yeosang couldn't answer her. He could only let out a quiet tear.
"Come here," she said.
Yeosang hesitantly went in her direction, and stood before her. Y/N signaled for San to get up, and San followed. She patted the now open seat next to her, and Yeosang took the spot. What Y/N did next shocked everyone in the room. She hugged Yeosang and snuggled into him.
"I'm so sorry you had to walk in to find me like that," was all she said.
Yeosang couldn't help but hug her back and cuddle with her. San was looking at the two people feeling anger and jealousy boil through his veins.
"Just because I'm not a vampire doesn't mean I can't sense your guys's jealousy. So if you want a hug you gotta fight for a spot next to me," Y/N smiled.
Y/N let go of Yeosang and sat up. Seonghwa engulfed her into a large hug. She returned the hug and rubbed his back. Soon, the rest of the boys hugged her and inhaled her addictive scent. San was the only member left. This time, Seonghwa got up and let San fill his spot. He looked at her with grey eyes and then gently hugged the girl. To San, Y/N felt so small and fragile. She fit into his arms perfectly. He never wanted to let her go. She snuggled into him closer and San looked up to the guys. He gave them a look that showed how much he cared for her. There was a peaceful silence until Yunho broke it.
"Has anyone ever told you how good you smell?"
"No, what do I smell like?"
"You smell like vanilla and roses!" Yunho exclaimed happily.
"I don't use anything that has that smell though?" Y/N announced.
"Wait that means that's your natural scent! I have never met a human that smells as good as you do," Wooyoung stated.
Y/N giggled at the compliment and her laugh made the guys' hearts melt.
"I take it you wore those outfits to hide from the sun?" Y/N asked referring to the dark outfits the guys were wearing.
"Sorta. They also hide our identities from other people. There are some people who know us for what we are we hide ourselves using these clothes," San responded.
Y/N looked at her phone to check the time, and she saw that it was about 7:30 at night. The rain has stopped awhile ago, so Y/N could go home now.
"I guess I should head out so I'm not a bigger burden than I already am," Y/N said looking at the guys.
"In the condition you're in, you're not going anywhere. If you run into other vampires, they will not hesitate to drain you," Jongho said.
Y/N nodded her head in understanding what Jongho said.
"You can sleep in my room tonight, I'll sleep on the couch," San told Y/N.
"I'm not about to let you sleep on the couch in your own home," Y/N fought back.
"Y/N you need to sleep on a bed. Especially with your injuries," Seonghwa said.
"But I feel bad!"
"It's either you sleep in his bed, or he sleeps in it with you," Mingi said.
Y/N displayed a light blush on her face and looked down.
"Where is the bedroom?" Y/N asked nervously.
"It's down the hallway, last door on the left," San chuckled.
"Oh! Before you go, here are some clothes!" Wooyoung said handing her a hoodie and boxers. "If you want to take a shower, you may."
"Thanks Wooyoung!" Y/N said giving him a hug. "I'm going to take a shower then go to bed. Night guys!"
"Night Y/N!" all the guys said together.
Y/N headed towards the bathroom she was in earlier to see a light red stain on the tile floor.
"Yikes! How could I be stupid enough to think that BLOOD wouldn't stain the tile?" Y/N said to herself aloud.
Y/N undressed herself and took the bandages Seonghwa wrapped around her off. She examined the wounds on her body then felt warm liquid run down her neck. In a split second, Y/N could hear a fist banging on the door and San's voice.
"Y/N?!? ARE YOU OK?!? WHY CAN I SMELL YOUR BLOOD-"
"Hey! It's ok! I just took my bandages off, and my stitches started to bleed a little bit. I'm fine!"
"Can I see them?" San asked.
"Hold on! I don't have any clothes on at the moment!"
When San heard those words leave Y/N's mouth, his heart rate involuntarily increased. He shook off the images running through his mind when Y/N opened the bathroom door. San walked in and shut the door behind him so the smell of her blood doesn't radiate through the house. San hurried into the bathroom so he couldn't see what Y/N was wearing. When he turned around he saw Y/N only wearing her undergarments. Without realizing, San was staring at the girl in front of him admiring her figure.
"I'm sorry about what I'm wearing. It was the only thing I could wear for you to be able to see them clearly," Y/N said with a blush.
"It's ok! I was just surprised you let me see you like this," San said.
"For some reason, my heart trusts you. Even though my head doesn't because of what happened. But I trust my heart more than my mind. The only reason why I did what I did was because my head got the best of me," Y/N confessed.
A genuine smile crept up to San's face, and his eyes turned yellow.
"Do they hurt?" San asked referring to the stitches.
"It just feels like a bruised sort of pain, but it's nothing too bad," Y/N said looking at her sliced wrists.
Blood began to run down her right wrist after she touched it.
"Ouch! That hurt a bit!" Y/N said looking at her bleeding wrist laughing.
Y/N could hear small grunts and growls coming from San and that's when she remembered he's a vampire. "Well shit. How could I possibly forget that he drinks blood?" Y/N thought to herself, giving a herself a mental facepalm as well. She headed towards the sink to wash it off, but San stopped her.
"Please don't wash it off yet," he grunted.
"Why? You can barely contain yourself at the moment."
"It smells really good and I want it to last longer," San said as he stared at the burgundy liquid.
"You want some of it, don't you?" Y/N sighed.
"Of course I do, but I couldn't do that to you."
"I appreciate that, but what would happen if I let you?"
San glanced up at Y/N's face, slightly taken aback with what she just said.
"Are you trying to hint something, Y/N?"
"I mean, it's not like you're going to bite me. It came out naturally! Besides, you look the same way as you did when you did you know what. That can only lead me to believe you haven't had any in quite awhile."
"How are you so damn smart?"
"You might be good at lying San, but you can't hide everything," Y/N said with a giggle.
"I swear to god, you're too cute. But would you actually let me have some?" San looked at Y/N seriously.
"I told you, I trust my heart more than my head."
Y/N raised her wrist once she saw the blood was about to drop onto the tile again.
"There is no way in hell I'm about to stain the tile AGAIN. So, the only way to clean it is to wash it off or you have it," Y/N said looking at her bloody wrist then to the blood thirsty vampire in front of her. "No biting, ok?"
San looked at Y/N with excitement.
"I bet you taste better than you smell!"
Y/N laughed at his statement and headed over to the sink where she could sit and make sure none of her blood can stain the dAMN TILE-
Once she was situated, Y/N signaled San to get closer to her and he followed her commands. He was now standing between her thighs looking at her eyes with his golden ones.
"Ok, your eyes keep changing color, and I have no idea what it means. Could you explain the colors to me before you start?" Y/N questioned.
"Well, my eyes should be gold at the moment which means I'm seriously holding back from getting your blood. Typically when I get a serious blood lust they turn gold. Red is anger, blue is sadness, grey is regret, purple is sexual lust, green is ecstasy, and orange is possessiveness or the feeling of wanting to protect something," San explained.
"I don't think I'll remember all of that, but I'll try my best!"
The two people laughed until Y/N realized her hand was starting to pool with blood.
"Bruh, why the hell am I bleeding so much? You stitches are seriously doing a shitty job."
Y/N raised the hand filled with blood and moved it in front of San. San looked at Y/N one last time searching for a final look of assurance, and Y/N responded with a nod.
San began by drinking what was in Y/N's hand. Her hand became a cup to encapsulate it all. The first taste for San sent him into space. The fact that he hasn't fed in awhile adds to the pleasure, but her taste was the best he's ever had. As he finished what was in her hand, he looked up at her. Y/N could see his fangs and her blood all over his chin. His eyes were a vibrant gold.
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"Looks like I was right. You're the best I've ever had."
"Yeah ok," Y/N said.
"Y/N if you were to leave in this state you would be dead by now. Or you would be kidnapped and used as a living blood bag. You're blood is unique. It is so much sweeter than what most humans have."
"Well lucky for you, San, my hand, neck, and wrist is covered in it. Now you can't complain from withdraws."
"I'm not complaining about it either!" San exclaimed.
"Remember San, I need to take a shower. We have classes tomorrow."
San growled.
"Can't we just skip tomorrow?" San whined.
"And do what?"
"Let you heal, Ateez aren't the only vampires at school, and I sure as hell ain't letting anyone else have you if you bleed."
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San's eyes flashed orange in a sign of possessiveness.
"Fine, I'll skip. You are acting like a over protective human boyfriend," Y/N chuckled.
"Well the fact that I am drinking your blood connects me to you. I can sense your change in emotions now. The guys can because of what we are, but me doing that makes me the closest out of all of them."
San returned to cleaning you up, and now he moved onto her neck.
She tilted her head to give him more access. He leaned towards her and could see her vein protrude slightly.
"Tell me if this hurts ok? I'm going to go over the stitches."
Y/N nodded her head and he began to lick the blood running down her throat. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
"San," she whispered.
San stopped what he was doing and looked at the girl in front of him. His eyes changed to a beautiful shade of purple.
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"What are you doing to me, Y/N?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know how I am. I'm really cold to people. But when you came along both me and the guys couldn't help but feel attracted to you. And now here I am. Drinking the best blood I've ever had, from the girl I'm interested in."
Y/N jumped off of the counter and looked in the mirror to see no blood left.
"Damn could you enjoy it any more?" Y/N said with sarcasm.
"I definitely could, babe."
Y/N blushed at the nickname. She's never been called that before. She could easily get used to it though.
"I need to take a shower now, San."
"Can I take it with you?"
"W-What?"
"You heard me. I want to take a shower with you."
"Why?"
"I don't know. This whole blood drinking thing just makes me want to be around you 24/7."
"Ok."
"Wait really?"
"Yeah sure. But...if this leads to you wanting to get closer to me just to use me for sex I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you."
"Oh believe me, if I wanted to play you you'd be out of my house right now."
The two chuckled and Y/N walked to turn the shower on. Once it was warm enough for her liking, she looked back at San.
"Is this too hot, San?"
San walked over to feel the water.
"Nope. It's almost as perfect as you."
"I did not expect you to be such a flirt."
"People aren't always who they seem they are Y/N."
"Yeah, I'm quite aware of that."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I mean, it's not like I'm going to be able to hide it from you forever, so I might as well get it over with."
San looked at her with a hint of worry in his eyes.
"It's my birth parents."
San looked at Y/N with interest.
"How about I tell you once we're in the shower, ok?"
San agreed and Y/N took her undergarments off. San couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely stunning to him.
"Hey! I can't be the only person naked! That's not fair!"
In the blink of an eye, San was undressed and standing in front of Y/N. He took her hand and pulled her into the shower with him. San watched as the water droplets ran down her delicate body. The way her long hair covered her exposed breasts.
"Ok, we're in the shower. Continue please," San said impatiently.
"Oh right. THEM." Y/N said with disgust in her voice. "I was not planed to be here. I'm only alive because my birth parents were retarded enough to not use protection. So when I was born, they decided they weren't ready to raise a child so they gave me to my aunt. I was a much different person back then than I am now. I used to be so caring of others and so welcoming. Now I've become more broken off and closed off. One day, they decided to show up to my house in America. They had the audacity to ask me to go back to them. They even thought that I would be willing to go with them. Ever since then, I have hated people. The fact that my best friend was murdered made it worse," San looked at Y/N with his grey eyes, "I know, vampires depend on blood to stay alive, but I was just so upset that it had to be her. I was pissed at myself for not stopping you guys. But as I thought about it, I realized neither of us would of made it out alive if I was to try and stop you. I lost trust in all people after that. I haven't made any friends for I live with the fear that they will leave me just as she did. I was still new here when she died so I had to take a lot of time to get used to my surroundings here. So here I am, a girl who lives alone and in a country that she still isn't that familiar to her yet."
Y/N was crying at this point from remembering the trauma she suffered. Without a second thought, San pinned Y/N against the shower wall and lifting her chin up with his index finger. Without a second thought he leaned in and kissed her. It was a kiss that expressed how bad he felt for doing what he did to her best friend. Y/N kissed back, enjoying the sensation of his lips against hers.
They both parted from the kiss to regain their breath when San spoke...
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. If I knew my actions would lead to me hurting you like this, I would have never done that. I was just so desperate that if I didn't feed, I would go on a murder spree. But now I promise to never hurt you like that. I promise to protect you from everything you fear the most. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I love you so much. I never want to let you go.
𝕿𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @soyeonrai 
45 notes · View notes
seongsangi · 4 years
Text
nonstop
pairing: jaehyun x reader
summary: you meet jaehyun at a club, but find it hard to control yourself around him. you have no idea what you just got yourself into.
word count: 3.5k
warnings: incubus jaehyun, drinking (not encouraging y'all to drink but pls do it responsibly!!)
read part 2 here
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The music is blaring so loud you can barely hear your friends talking to you, even when you’re sitting right next to each other at the bar. They invited you to the club since you’ve never been before, but maybe this isn’t your kind of thing. One of them wants to drag you away from the bar and out to the dance floor, but you refuse, feeling much more comfortable in your seat than being grinded on by drunk strangers.
“Come on, this is your first time so you gotta have a little fun,” she urges, getting up and slightly tugging your arm. You shake your head no, raising your glass and telling her you are having fun in your own way. A few men at the bar have passed on drinks in hopes of getting something in return, but none of you are the least bit interested in them. You couldn’t turn down a free drink though.
Seeing as how you aren’t going to follow, they give up trying to get you to go with them. “Well, we won’t leave you by yourself then.” They try to plant themselves in their seats again but you quickly shoo them away, knowing you could handle things yourself if it came down to it but still appreciating their concern. It takes a bit of back and forth before you finally convince them to go, not wanting them to feel like they have to babysit you at the bar. As you watch them link arms and head to the middle of the floor, your eyes begin to scan the room aimlessly, taking in the blinding strobe lights and busy bodies moving throughout the club. A song you recognize comes on and you find yourself moving slightly to the music, the drinks making their way to your head. You look towards the top floor, not searching for anything in particular, just simply people watching. Maybe it’s weird if you think about it, but it’s something you’ve always kind of done subconsciously.
When your eyes move across the booths on the balcony, you have to do a double take. You stop swaying to the music once you find yourself locking eyes with the most captivating man you’ve ever seen and that’s not an exaggeration. The light hits him perfectly for a moment, creating an almost halo around his body. His hand is outstretched on top of the seat, leaning back with a drink in hand, although it seems more like he’s drinking you up with his eyes. Your cheeks flush under his intense stare. You aren’t sure if the drinks you had are driving your imagination wild. You take a quick look around, wondering if he’s looking at someone or something else. When you look back up, you sort of hope you were mistaken, but to your surprise, he’s still watching you. It’s as if the whole world slows down in the moment your eyes meet again, dancing bodies and strobe lights moving in slow motion. There’s something about him that you can’t place your finger on, too caught up in his aura and beauty. He brings his drink to his mouth, finishing the alcohol as his eyes never leave yours. You swear you saw him lift his eyebrow, is he challenging you or something? The staring contest you two have going on sends tingles up your spine. You mimic his movements, finishing your own drink as you watch him watch you. Two can play at this game.
He cocks his head to the side, confused but intrigued by your mimicry. He was sure you would have made a move towards the stairs to the balcony by now, but nonetheless, he can’t resist a challenge. He doesn’t break eye contact, even when he leans in to tell his friends he’ll be right back. He stands up from the booth, hands in his pockets, and makes his way down the stairs. Even his walk is attractive what the hell. Wait, is he coming here? You quickly turn around to face the bar again, fiddling with the straw in your cup, trying to avoid making eye contact with him again even though you know he’s coming. You can feel his presence getting closer but you refuse to look up. The person next to you just so happens to get up as soon as he reaches the bar, cursing under your breath. You may have been staring each other down a few seconds ago but that doesn’t mean you were expecting him to come to you. He plops down in the seat, elbow resting on the counter, body turned to face yours. You’re still looking down at your drink, not sure if you can handle seeing his handsome face up close.
He chuckles at your flustered state, a sound that seems to reverberate in your ears even with how loud the music is still playing. “I’m Jaehyun, what’s your name?” His voice sounds like honey, dripping in gold and almost makes you want to melt. You didn’t come here to meet anyone, but you can’t deny the way he’s pulling you in when he hasn’t even done anything. You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You push the drink away from you and rest your head on your hand, elbow on the counter just as Jaehyun is doing. Your breath gets caught in your throat as soon as you see him. He looks even better now than he did on the balcony, how the fuck is that possible? You don’t even care that you didn’t answer his question; your eyes trail over his body, eyeing the way his red shirt looks on him and how he left a bit of it unbuttoned, open for imagination. You suddenly feel foolish, letting this stranger get to you so quickly. You may be drooling over his looks, but you won’t let him have his way with you that easily.
You turn your body to face his, leaning in so he can hear, “How about you buy me a drink first and then I’ll tell you?” You watch with amusement as his tongue prods at his cheek, even more intrigued by your sudden burst of confidence. He’s never met someone like you, someone who hasn’t given in to him as quickly as he thought you would. He caught on to the way you were ogling him, yet you’re still holding your ground. To keep you interested, he calls the bartender over, asking him to get you something on the rocks.
“Make it strong,” you comment, giving Jaehyun a wink. As you watch the bartender make your drink, you can feel Jaehyun checking you out and it makes you feel a bit powerful if you do say so yourself. The little black dress you’re wearing hugs your figure perfectly, one of your favorites. Out of everyone in the club, he seems to have his attention on you and you don’t know why, but you sure as hell aren’t complaining. When you turn your head to look at him again, he seems to be lost in his own thoughts. His gaze is now dark, smoldering, almost cold. It sends shivers through your body, a contrast from the playful, mischievous look he was giving you on the balcony when your eyes first met. You grab your drink and look away from him, trying to shake the sudden chill you just got. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I think my friends should be coming back soon,” you say as you finish your drink, hoping he would get the hint. Your body tenses up when he leans in, closing the distance between your bodies. “I don’t think you really want me to go, do you?” His breath fans your neck, deep voice echoing in your ear and you suddenly feel lightheaded. Your logic is telling you to abort mission, but your mind can’t seem to keep up. “You’re right,” the words leave your mouth before you can even think about it. You blush furiously, body temperature rising, confused why the hell you just said that. He’s got a sly look on his face, pleased by your affirmation.
“Here’s your drink, miss.” The bartender snaps you out of whatever you were just in, reaching for the drink to put some distance between you and Jaehyun again.
“Will you tell me your name now beautiful?” The compliment makes your body even warmer.
“Y/N. Thank you for the drink.”
“Is it to your liking?” he asks.
“It’s not the only thing I like,” words leaving your mouth again before you can register. It’s like something came over you, clouding your mind and throwing away your inhibitions. What is going on with you tonight?
He’s got you right where he wants you, but he craves more.
“Oh, tell me what else is on your mind? I’m dying to know,” he can’t hide the smugness behind his words. Instead of answering him, you take another sip of your drink. You’re trying to control yourself, not wanting to say something out of character again. He can tell you’re trying to resist, but he knows it’s impossible. After all, he is good at what he does. He will admit, you are doing better at resisting his advances than anyone else he’s met before. Usually they would be swooning for him, head over heels at first glance and desperately trying to go home with him before he even had to use his powers. But the fact that you aren’t like them only makes him want you more. He wants to know just how long you can hold out.
“Y/N?” he calls out to you when you still refuse to respond. “Look at me,” his voice is stern, making your insides tingle. It didn’t sound like a request, more like a command, and you can’t help but do what he says. His glare on you has you fidgeting in your seat. How is he making you feel this way? You’re about to say something when your phone vibrates with a text from your group chat.
[10:45 pm] who’s that guy you’re with? you need us to come over there?”
You look up at Jaehyun, who has that damn smirk on his face again, like he could see the text your friends just sent. He cocks his head slightly, waiting for your move. You twiddle your thumbs, not sure what to do or what to say to your friends. A part of you wants to leave, confused by your behavior around Jaehyun and why you were saying things you didn’t mean. Well, you did mean them but you weren’t supposed to say those things out loud. There’s a little voice inside your head that says a man that fine ought to be trouble, but at the same time, maybe that’s part of the thrill. You’re caught in a wave of emotions, not sure if you should abort mission or let the cards play.
[10:46 pm] his name is jaehyun but don’t worry i got it ;)
Fuck it, there’s no denying the attraction you have for him, which is sort of ridiculous since you’ve only known him for about 10 minutes. You can’t explain what it is about him but maybe it doesn’t need to make sense.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” his voice is laced with tease, he knows you aren’t going anywhere.
“No, not at all, just my friends checking up on me.”
“I won’t bother you if they want to leave.”
It’s your turn to boast a smug look, leaning in close like he did to you earlier. “I think I’d rather leave with you,” in your best sultry voice. His eyes scan your face and body once again for any sign of hesitancy but the only thing he can tell is that you’re unbelievably turned on, thighs rubbing together ever so slightly.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he stands up from the chair, waiting for you to follow. You step in front of him, grabbing his hand and leading him away. You don’t know where you’re going, but all you know is you just want to get away with Jaehyun. When you step outside, Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer. If you thought you were feeling warm before, you’re on fire now.
“I’m staying in that hotel right there.” That’s all it takes for you to grab his hand again, tugging him down the street. You know you’re moving fast, but you can’t find it in you to care. You want him more than anyone you’ve ever wanted before. It doesn’t make sense but it feels so right despite being so wrong. The walk to the hotel seems like a blur, head cloudy with desire and impure thoughts. Next thing you know you’re stepping into his hotel room, curtains drawn so you can see all of downtown through the window. There’s a mirror that takes up the entire wall next to the bed, heart racing at the thought of him taking you as you watch from the mirror. As if he could read your mind, he turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, hands roaming your entire body.
“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he nuzzles his face in your neck as he squeezes your breasts, one hand slowly inching its way up the hem of your dress. His touch sends tingles throughout your body. Your arousal is filling the air and Jaehyun is drowning in it.
“Tell me what I’m thinking,” you watch as he throws your hair over one shoulder, littering your neck with warm, wet kisses. His lips feel so good on your skin, you wonder how they’ll feel in between your legs.
“I know you want me to fuck you so you can watch in the mirror, but I have something better in mind.” He leads you to the window, and with the smirk on his face you already know what he’s planning. He slides the straps of your dress off your shoulders as you take in the view of all the buildings, cars, and flashing lights six floors below you. You’re a bit nervous, not sure if you want to be exposed in front of this window for anyone and everyone to see. Jaehyun senses this, sliding his hand under your dress to pull your panties to the side. Your legs almost buckle when he touches you, hearing your slick coat his fingers as he plays with you.
“Trust me baby, you’ll love it,” his deep voice calms you down but also sends a new wave of arousal to your core. He pushes you forward slightly, bracing yourself on the cold window. You hear rustling behind you as you bite your lip in anticipation. Neither of you are fully undressed, too eager to get the party started. Jaehyun grips your waist tightly as he slides in, earning a loud gasp from you at the feeling of him finally inside. He sighs loudly, your tight walls gripping him so perfectly. He slides in and out easily thanks to how wet you are for him. Before you can even get used to the way he feels in you, he picks up the pace at an inhumane speed, drawing out loud moans and screams from you. His grip on your waist is so tight, he’s keeping you in place as he fucks you senseless. You can’t think of anything else besides the feeling of Jaehyun. You don’t even care any more that anyone can see you from below, you don’t want him to stop.
“Yeah, I told you you’d love it. You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?” He groans when you clench your walls around him. A hard smack on your ass makes you yelp, and he’s pulling your hair back to crane your head up.
“Aren’t you?” he repeats. He’s going so fast you can’t keep up, tears brimming.
“Yes, fuck I’m your slut,” you mewl, the arch in your back mixing pain with pleasure. Jaehyun watches as you get lost in the way he’s fucking you. The more pleasure you feel, the more energy he gets, and he wants everything you can possibly give him. One second you’re leaning against the window, the next second you’re on all fours on the bed. Jaehyun is drilling into your core with such force, you can’t see straight. You’re moaning incoherently, unable to keep quiet when he’s making you feel so high. No one has ever made you feel this good before, but you don’t know if you can keep going.
“Nuh-uh, we’re not done yet,” he slows his hips down, allowing you some time to get yourself together. You push yourself up, hands gripping the sheets as you watch Jaehyun take his time with you. He’s watching where your bodies are connected, sliding in and out of you slowly so you can feel every inch of him. He looks so unreal, not a hair out of place and he hasn’t even broken a sweat. You, on the other hand, look a mess. Your makeup is slightly ruined from your tears, black lines streaming down your face. Your hair is tangled from Jaehyun’s previous grip and from throwing you around, your body glistening with sweat. Soft moans leave your lips, eyes clouded with lust. You don’t know how you got here with such a gorgeous man behind you. When he looks up, he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“You look so sexy,” his hands trail across your backside, his touch is like fire on your skin. You feel like you could melt underneath him. “I want you to watch, can you do that for me baby?” You nod eagerly, bracing yourself for what’s to come. Without warning, he’s pounding into you again, knocking the wind out of you. He angles his hips to hit that sweet spot of yours repeatedly. You’re so far gone, a string of curses the only thing you can manage to say. He’s fucking you dumb and you can’t do anything but take it. Your arms are starting to feel weak, but Jaehyun grabs them and holds them behind your back, pushing your upper body down. His hold on you is so strong, you feel powerless. You love that he’s in control of your body, you’ll let him do anything to you at this point. He can tell your high is approaching, so he holds your wrists in place with one hand as the other snakes around the front to rub your clit, coaxing your orgasm out of you as you scream his name, music to his ears. You’re about to cry again, legs trembling, entire body shaking. He feeds on your orgasm, a surge of energy rushing through him. He fucks you nonstop and doesn’t let up even after you cum. “Wait, it’s too much,” you whine.
“Oh baby, you can take it. Just one more for me, hm?” You suddenly feel very tired, eyelids heavy and you’re finding it harder to stay in the moment. Jaehyun smirks behind you, knowing you’re worn out but it’s nothing you can’t handle. He flips you around onto your back, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart. Your chest is heaving, trying to catch your breath. Your body jerks when his thumb finds your clit again, sliding back into your core to reach his own high. You try to close your legs, but his grip is too strong.
“Jaehyun, please,” the sound of you begging for him is almost too much, but he wants just a bit more from you. His hand wraps around your throat, cutting off just enough air to make your head light. “Stay still,” his voice is dangerously low, and you swear you saw a glint in his eyes. You try to close your legs, try to push his hand away from your clit, but you can’t move. He throws his head back, groaning as he consumes even more energy from you. He loves the sight of you helpless on the bed for him, tears in your eyes, moaning his name. He leans down, face just inches away from yours.
“Will you cum for me again?” He knows you can’t resist anyway. In a few seconds, your second orgasm hits harder than the first, squirting all over the bed and making a mess, just the way he likes it. He can feel the power in him rising tenfold, and his hips still as he paints your walls with his load. You’re too drained, too fucked out to even stay awake. You barely register Jaehyun stroking your hair, telling you how good you were. You try to open your eyes, but he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you drift to sleep.
You don’t hear a knock at the door and you don’t hear someone come into the room.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Seonghwa?”
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werewolf-witchboy · 3 years
Text
Jack Spicer X Male Reader
Dating Headcannon
WARNINGS: none uwu
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(this will be written in the time period of Xiaolin Chronicles, not Showdown- mainly cuz everyone is slightly older in Chronicles, and because I have more overall knowledge of Chronicles since I've been watching it recently)
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🐵 Jack deserves a lil boyfriend that'll stick by his side, and not mind being dragged around to random-ass places all the time.
💢 I don't feel like he'd really have a moment where he'd be questioning his sexuality.
-I think he'd have always known for a while that gender doesn't mean much to him when it comes to who he likes.
🛠 I feel like Chase would have some sly slightly homophobic remark to make, just cuz he likes to put Jack down, but Shadow will prolly be like "oH PLEASE- we all know you're into guys too."
-Don't come @ me, Chase is a flaming bisexual whether he knows it yet or not.
🐵 Jack most definitely loves to take you with him whenever he sets off to collect a Shen Gong Wu.
-When he utterly looses a showdown, you pretend not to see lmao.
💢 He'll go to you to sulk.
-You'll pat his head and unironically go "there there, you'll get 'em next time" and he eats that shit up. gOd he loves your validation and comfort, he's such a puppy. 🥺
🛠 Chase and Shadow definitely wonder how tf you put up with him all the time.
-You never seem angry, or bothered, or even a little annoyed by Jack and his hyperactive personality.
🐵 Jack more than likely has never had a boyfriend before you, so a lot of times he doesn't know how to act on his feelings.
-You're always like "uM, we'Re aLrEaDy dAtiNg wHy r u sO nErvOus???"
-And he just(///////・_・///////)
💢 Y'all don't do much PDA other than holding hands- but whenever Jack starts to get a lil jealous or self-concious (cuz maybe you're talking to someone else, or not giving him all of your attention) he'll keep an arm wrapped around your shoulders or your waist.
🛠 I feel like Jack wouldn't be very smooth or charismatic when it comes to some things. He may be an evil genius, but he sure isn't a very great romantic.
🐵 The first time you kissed him, he stopped functioning. It was just a cheek kiss.
-Maybe you shouldn't have come out of nowhere and surprised him with it, but it was still cute to see how Jack turned red and dropped everything he was holding. He was a studdering mess and didn't know how to respond.
-Over time, he started having less over-the-top reactions to your cheek kisses, cuz he'd get used to your constant affection. They'd of course still make his heart flutter each time though.
💢 Now just imagine how he'd act when you kiss him on the lips for the first time. This poor boy would probably malfunction and shut down completely.
-Jack probably wouldn't mention your first actual kiss with each other for a while, cuz he'd still be processing that it actually happened.
-Eventually he'd start to crave another one though, so he'd have to shyly bring it up.
-"So, uhhhh...about the kiss the other day..."
"You want another one, don't you?"
Que Jack turning beat red, nervous sweats, and can't speak anymore. You giggle and just give the boy what he wants lmao.
-It would take a while for it to be a normal thing that he'd be comfortable doing without asking permission.
🛠 It would be even longer before Jack starts to muster up the courage to kiss you himself.
-You're always the one initiating the kisses, so you'd be more than surprised when he decides to run up and give you a quick peck, before quickly sprinting off again. ಥ⌣ಥ
🐵 You're prolly a good cook. I can imagine Jack falling head-over-heels for someone who can cook. He don't gotta eat the crud F-Bot makes him anymore.
💢 Jack is definitely the type to accidentally fall asleep on your shoulder, then drool all over your nice shirt.
-Even if you don't really mind it, Jack would still freak out when he wakes up...moreso about the fact that he fell asleep on you in the first place.
-He'd then proceed to pretend it never happened lol.
-aNd tHen hE'd dO iT aGaiN tHe nExt dAy.
🛠 Bonus points if your style is edgy/emo/eboy-ish.
-I think Jack would really dig that tbh.
🐵 He'd most likely enjoy it if you painted his nails. He'd get all excited and want to try painting yours too.
-It's a process. The first few times, the results definitely were messy, but you never have the heart to tell him that.
-He would become noticeably better at nail painting the more you do it together tho, and he'd definitely be proud of himself about it.
💢 It would most definitely fuel Jack's ego if you showed interest in something he's working on.
-You know creating things is a passion of his, so he'd most definitely be excited if you asked questions about what he's making or how he does something.
-It would be the perfect opportunity for him to show off to you basically.
🛠 So yeah...tdlr: evil monkey boi is cyoot af, and he needs a boyfriend asap.👏🏻
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Text
INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker
Chapter Thirteen
If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!
INEFFABLE – Kaz Brekker
ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 
Chapter Thirteen
The Crows were ducked away in a shed, as safe as they could be for the moment. Kaz had emptied his pockets, placing everything he had on the table. A couple Ravkan coins and bills, and not much else.
Inej was grimacing. “Is this all we have left?”
She groaned, clutching her side, taking a deep breath. “Jesper, my bag.”
She pulled up her shirt to reveal a deep wound on her abdomen just as Jesper had turned around. He gagged, averting his eyes.
“Mother of Saints.”
Elham chuckled, helping Inej lean back against a stack of hay on the floor so she could have better access to the wound. She lowered her to the ground, helping hold her shirt up, not missing Kaz’s look of concern. She turned back to Inej, watching her grab things out of her bag.
“It’s not healing on its own. I need to stitch it.”
Elham glanced at Kaz and Jesper’s uneasy faces, giving them a grin.
“Don’t worry, I happen to specialize in stab wounds. Granted, I’m normally on the other side of them, but that’s alright, I’ve had enough sticks myself to know how to stitch them up.”
Kaz turned his head away as Elham threaded the needle, handing it to Inej. “How long before you can travel.”
Inej was quick to respond. “Not long. Where?”
“Ketterdam.”
Elham whipped around to face him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Earlier, she was so sure that they’d either get the kruge, and she’d be safe from the Menagerie, or they wouldn’t make it back to Ketterdam, and it wouldn’t matter whether they got it or not. But to go back now, and empty handed, she would almost certainly have to go.
“Between our dwindling funds, lack of time, and conflicting interests, it’s time we cut our losses.”
He moved to go outside, and Elham called after him. “Kaz.”
He didn’t look at her, stepping out the door.
“Kaz!”
He was already gone.
Jesper scoffed. “I guess the Bastard misses the Barrel.”
Elham shook her head, willing the tears not to fall, turning her attention back to Inej. “Hey, love. Let’s get this fixed, yeah?”
Inej took a deep breath as Elham grabbed the needle, hooking it through her skin. She pulled the skin taught, trying to get it done as quickly as she could.
Jesper groaned, gagging, having to turn his head.
Inej scoffed. “You can watch a bullet tear through a man, but a needle’s too much.”
“It...yeah, well, you see, bullets are bam, in and out. That’s...just...ugh!"
Elham laughed, letting Inej take the needle and finish it up. Jesper was still groaning.
“Where’d you learn to do that?”
“When I was at the Menagerie.”
“Yeah, but why would you...oh. That’s dark.”
“Which is why I can’t go back.”
Elham’s smile fell from her face, her laughter dying. It was bad enough that Inej had to go through all of that pain, but now it was looking like she would have to as well. She knew she would be able to handle it, and even if she couldn’t, she would go on anyway. Heleen would get what was coming to her one way or another.
Elham swallowed. “You’re not going back. You know that.”
Inej’s eyes clouded, and Elham watched her try and fight tears. She quickly gave her a smile, grabbing her hand.
“It's ok, it's ok! We’re both gonna be fine, yeah? Right, Jesper?”
He tried his best to lighten the mood, but his face was full of pity, and Elham knew in that moment that Inej had told him about her deal with Heleen.
“Yeah, that's right, love. Inej, I bet if you told Kaz that story, I think he’d murder Heleen himself.”
Elham chuckled. “Saints, if he doesn’t, I will.”
---
It was nightfall now, and Inej was well enough to stand and move around. Elham led her outside, where Kaz was sitting on a wooden box, staring into the flames. She led Inej over, before taking a seat next to Kaz.
Inej stayed standing, handing Kaz his cane. “Jesper fixed your cane.”
He took it from her, bringing it close to him. He rested his hand on the Crows head. Elham noticed how he almost seemed more at ease with it, like it was another limb, in the same way that her sword was like another limb to her. And, Saints, did she miss her sword.
He said nothing, not even a thank you, and Elham gave him a look. He sighed, clenching his jaw. Inej turned back to head inside, when Kaz called after her.
“You were right.”
Inej turned back to him. “About what?”
“The Sun Summoner. You were right. She’s real. I played it over and over in my head. None of it’s a trick. The light was hers.”
“So, what? Kaz Brekker finally believes in Saints?”
“Hardly.”
“But you just said that--”
“I said Alina Starkov is a Grisha with the power to manipulate light. She’s a girl with a gift, not some savior of lore.”
“Fine. Kaz, if not Saints, what do you believe in?”
Kaz glanced at Elham, and she held her breath, meeting his gaze. He turned back to Inej.
“Myself.”
Inej scoffed. “Why’d I even ask?”
“And you. And Jesper...and Elham. My Crows.”
“Because we flock to your bidding? Like the animals of vengeance you named us after?”
Elham laughed quietly. “I happen to like crows.”
“Crows don’t just remember the faces of people who wronged them. They also remember those who were kind. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”
He was talking to Inej still, but he was looking at Elham.
Inej nodded at him, heading back inside. “Thank you, Kaz.”
And then she was gone. Elham was left next to Kaz. They sat in silence for a moment, before Kaz spoke up.
“I knew, you know.”
She faced him, and he was already looking at her. She felt her cheeks heat up under his stare. “Knew what?”
“That you’re a Grisha.”
Her eyes widened, and her face contorted with confusion. “What do you mean you knew?”
“Of course I knew. How could I not? I notice everything about you.”
Elham was hiding a smile now, eyes watering. “Like?”
He scoffed, exasperated.
“Like? Like everything. Like how you run warmer than everyone else. That was one of the first signs. That night I broke my leg, and you had to help me back to the Slat. Your hand touched the back of my neck, and you were warm. Unnaturally warm. I couldn’t figure it out then, but as I put the pieces together over time, it made sense. I guess that’s just another part of you being an Inferni, or just another thing different about your powers than the other Inferni.”
Elham felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“I think you being warm to the touch helps. When I touch people, and their skin touches mine, it’s like I’m back in the harbour with those bodies again. Cold. It’s so fucking cold, and it makes my skin crawl. It’s like rubbing against sandpaper. But when I touch you...it’s not like that. It’s still difficult for me, but not unbearable.”
She was in awe of his words, but he kept talking about the other things he noticed about her, rambling.
“Like how you like to rile Jesper up, just to get a reaction out of him. Like how you sit in that chair in my office in the most uncomfortable position you could possibly be in, just to spite me. Like how you were fearless when you offered yourself up in Inej’s place to Heleen, because you’re just that protective over your family. Like how you’re ruthless when you’re the Valkyrie.”
She could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she ignored it, listening..
“How could I not notice all of that? I mean, Saints, El, you’re...you’re--”
She caught her breath, asking. “I’m what?”
“You’re fucking ineffable.”
He took his cane and tapped the end of it to her ankle, the faintest smile on his face.
“I missed doing that.”
She felt a sob catch in her throat, and she quickly wiped at her eyes. Her mind was racing, she couldn’t think of the right words to say. He beat her to it.
He murmured. “I have something for you.”
He pulled a sword out from under the bench. She gasped as he picked it up and unsheathed it. It was absolutely beautiful. The hilt was pure matte black, with shining silver engraved all throughout. It was heavy in her hand, the weight familiar. She sheathed it, turning to him, in awe.
“I found it in the Darkling’s carriage, under one of the seats. Figured it was fitting for you to have it.”
Elham belted it around her waist, strapping it to her back through the harnessing on her back.
“Thank you, Kaz. I really missed having one.”
He almost grinned. “I needed my Valkyrie fully functional again. The Grisha power is a plus, but I’ve always preferred you with a sword. Now, what are you gonna name it?”
She turned to him, confused. “Name it?”
“All of the good swords have names.”
She nodded, pondering for a bit, before a smirk landed on her face.
Inej named her knives after her Saints, Elham would name her sword after her sins.
Afterall, she was no Saint.
“Wrath.”
Kaz scoffed, letting out a dark chuckle. “Wrath. I like it.”
She smiled at him again. “Thank you, Kaz. I mean it.”
He knew she wasn’t just talking about the sword, and that she meant thank you for everything. For sticking with her all those years, for giving her a place in the Dregs, for making her the Valkyrie. For everything.
He just nodded. “Come on, let’s go show Jesper your new sword. He’s a little scared of you with one, did you notice that?”
She giggled, and a grin appeared on her face. Kaz would never admit it, but he loved watching her happy like this.
“Oh, I know.”
---
A/N - i was so excited to write this chapter, it has some of my favorite stuff in it that i wanted to write. not entirely loving it, but it's decent i guess. we still have about an episode and a half of content left, a few more chapters to go. i wanted to get this one out because i know the last one was shorter. i hope y'all liked this chapter, let me know. thank you for the support!
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plaidbooks · 3 years
Text
Liquid Courage
A/N: Okay, so, this Sonny Carisi x reader fic was literally just an excuse to write drunk!Sonny. Idk how it got so long, but here we are. My headcanon is that Sonny is...touch starved is the wrong adjective. Affectionate? Touchy? Something. Hope y'all enjoy!
Tags: SVU talk, alcohol mention
Words: 3270
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @storiesofsvu @lv7867 @cycat4077 @barbasimp @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31
You were standing in the vast hallways of the courthouse, waiting to hear if your testimony helped at all. You were a Medical Examiner for the Manhattan NYPD, meaning you couldn’t tailor your statements like the detectives or victims could; you only spoke about the facts. And the facts were simple; with the injuries the deceased sustained, they died from asphyxiation. Could it have been caused by their husband wrapping a soft material around their throat? Of course. Could it also have been caused by the victim hanging herself in her room? Yes, it could. The same could be said for a thousand other scenarios. The difference was the husband was found to be abusive, and it was highly suspected that he killed her. But that was the detective’s job. Yours was to give them the facts. Did you want the sick fuck behind bars? Of course, but that wasn’t what you were called for—no opinions, just facts.
The SVU squad caught up with you quickly; Olivia, Amanda, Fin, and Sonny. You adverted your eyes when you saw Sonny; you had a crush on him, though you were only friends. At first, you were just the ME, hardly talking to him…or any of the squad, really, outside of work-related things. But he was charming and made it a point to talk to you every time he visited about, well, everything. Soon enough, you knew all about his family, and he knew about yours. He even invited you over for game night with the squad a few times.
“Jury back yet?” you asked as they got closer. You asked Olivia, but your eyes darted to Sonny a few times, your cheeks burning. He, of course, decided to stand right next to you, close enough to touch.
“Not yet; it’s only been a few hours—” Olivia was cut off as her phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen. “Never mind; jury’s back now.” You followed them to the courtroom, and congratulated them all, including Barba, when the jury came back with a guilty conviction.
“Celebratory drinks?” Amanda asked, grinning. Everyone agreed with that…except for you.
Sonny looked to you expectantly, but you shook your head. “I’d love to, but I’d rather decompress at home,” you replied, smiling sheepishly.
The detectives all nodded in understanding. Sonny patted your arm lightly, muttering a, “you’ll be missed. See ya on Monday,” before following his coworkers. You trailed behind before splitting from the group, heading home while they headed in the direction of Forlini’s.
*****************
You were at home, reading a book while soft piano music played softly on your speakers. You jumped as your phone rang. Looking at the id, you cocked an eyebrow. Sonny was calling you?
“Hey, Sonny; everything okay?” you asked as you answered.
There was loud music playing and voices before Sonny’s voice overpowered them all. “Heyyyy doll! I hope you’re doing okaaaay.”
Oh god, he was drunk. You let out a little huff of laughter, shaking your head. “I’m doing just fine, Son. How’re you?”
“I-I miss you,” he hiccupped, and your cheeks burned. “I wanted to l-let you know….” He pulled away from the phone for a moment, talking to someone before he was back. “I app-appreciate all you do, and I-I looooove youuuu~.” He dragged out the last two words, saying them in a sing-song voice.
Your heart leapt into your throat. He was obviously drunk; he didn’t mean it like that…or did he? “Do you need me to come pick you up?” you asked, concerned.
Sonny’s words all melded together and you couldn’t understand what he was saying anymore.
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Stay. There,” you ordered, pulling your shoes on. At least he was with his squad. He slurred something else unintelligible before hanging up, and you rolled your eyes, a small grin on your lips.
********************
You made it to Forlini’s in record time, glancing around at the patrons, looking for the lanky detective. He wasn’t too hard to find; in the corner of the bar was the whole SVU squad, and Sonny was loud. He was laughing at something, pounding his hand on the table, his head thrown back as he guffawed. Picking out a path towards him, you weaved through the crowded bar feeling completely out-of-place in your sweats and loose shirt.
Once close enough, you reached a hand out, laying your hand on Sonny’s elbow. He jumped, whipping around to look at you and almost falling off his seat in the process. His cheeks were rosy, and he had the widest grin on his face as his watery eyes focused on you.
“You came! Can I b-buy you a drink?” Sonny asked loudly, his voice carrying over the rest of the cacophony in the bar.
You gave him a soft smile. “Actually, I think it’s time to take you home, Son,” you replied. The rest of the squad seemed to be in various states of sober or tipsy, but Sonny was obviously the one that was gone. He didn’t object as you helped him stand, waving a goodbye to the rest of the squad, and pulling him through the bar.
“Guys! The hot ME is taking me home!” Sonny yelled, and you ducked your head, your face on fire. Other drunks in the bar congratulated him, and you as well, as you made your way through the throng. You just wrapped an arm tighter around Sonny’s waist, pulling him towards the exit.
Once outside, Sonny wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you close to him. “Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked, resting his head on top of yours.
“You may have mentioned it on the phone,” you commented, trying to drag him towards your car.
Sonny was having trouble walking straight, mostly because he was trying to wrap himself around you. “I mean it, d-doll. You’re so fuckin’ smm-art and pretty and funny and cute and beautiful…” he trailed off, leaning almost completely on you now, his weight crushing you.
“Uh huh,” you replied, smiling despite yourself. You knew he was only saying this because he was drunk; sober-Sonny would never be like this. It left a pang of sadness in your heart, because you really did like him. But come tomorrow, he’d remember none of it, and life would go back to normal.
You made it to your car and deposited him in the passenger seat, buckling him in. Sonny attempted to get out, but the seatbelt held him down. He seemed confused, pulling at the material across his chest as you slid into the driver’s seat. You cracked his window so that he’d get some fresh air and pulled away from the curb. You knew where he lived, so you headed in that direction.
“Love you,” Sonny muttered, his eyes glued to your face. You smiled, ignoring the fluttering those words made burst forth. Only in your wildest dreams did Sonny say those words to you, but he’s said it so much tonight...at least it would fuel some late night fantasies. You jumped as his hand connected gently with your head. You were about to ask what he was doing until you realized; he was petting your hair.
“So soft…” he breathed, his fingers twining through the strands of hair. Your breathing hitched slightly, and you tried to focus on the road.
“Is there a reason you’re petting me?” you asked, chuckling lightly.
“Cause your hair is so soft, so pretty…feels so nice,” Sonny replied. You were thankfully getting close to his place when you noticed him moving; it seemed like he was trying to fight the seatbelt, but couldn’t quite figure it out.
“What are you doing?” you asked, alarmed.
Sonny grunted against the impossible belt holding him down. “Wanna cuddle. Wanna hold you.” He said it almost angrily, but that was directed more at the damned seatbelt holding him from you.
“Sonny, stop struggling; wait until we’re not in the car,” you instructed. He let out a huff of defeat, sinking into the seat grumpily before dissolving into giggles.
You pulled up in front of his apartment complex shortly after. As you got out and came around to his side, you let out a chuckle, watching Sonny fight and lose against the seatbelt. You hurried to open his door, leaning across him, and clicking his seatbelt off.
“Freedom!” Sonny cheered as you helped him out of the car. Though, now free of the car, nothing stopped him from draping his body over yours, leaning over your back.
“Sonny, this isn’t helpful—” you started before he cut you off.
“Mmm cuddles,” he murmured, his voice directly in your ear, slurring even worse than before.
You struggled under his weight as he forced more of himself on you, wrapping his arms completely around your torso and arms, leaning almost completely on top of you, forcing you to bend forwards under his weight. “S-Sonny…I need you to walk with me, man,” you huffed, trying to take the few steps into his building.
“Can we cuddle, though?” Sonny asked, wrapping a leg around your waist.
You had to stop walking, spreading your legs so that he didn’t completely throw you off balance. “Oh my god; yes, we can cuddle. But let’s get inside first.”
Reluctantly, he peeled himself off you…mostly. He kept his arms around you as you tried to hurry to his door, before he changed his mind and rewrapped around you.
“Keys?” you asked as you made it to his apartment.
Sonny seemed barely conscious at this point, leaning fully on you again, but from the side this time. You had to lean partly against the wall to keep from falling. “You’rrrrre prettyyy,” he hummed in your ear.
“Yes, thank you. Where’s your keys?” you repeated. Sonny swayed on his feet, blinking slowly, showing no signs of hearing you. You sighed, reaching into his pockets, searching for any kind of jingling. You found his phone and wallet easily enough before your fingers closed around his keyring.
As you pulled your hand out of his pants pocket, he said in a low voice, “I like when you touch me.”
Heat rushed to your face, and you ignored him, as well as the rush of arousal you felt, and unlocked the door. “Come on,” you grunted, dragging him over the threshold. You half led, half carried Sonny back to his bedroom. Once his bed was in sight, Sonny extracted himself from you, moving to collapse onto the mattress, face-first and laying diagonally across it, legs dangling off the side. Bending down, you were able to get his shoes off quickly before he rolled onto his back.
He reached out for you, muttering, “cuddles” over and over again as you shook your head at him.
“Hold on, Son. Let me go to the bathroom really quick,” you lied. You had no intentions of cuddling with him, nervous about what he may do. Sonny was a good guy, but alcohol was a hell of a drug.
He nodded to you, letting his arms fall to his sides. You quickly leaned over him, loosening his tie and pulling it off. “Be right back,” you said, leaving his room and closing the door behind you.
Searching in his kitchen, you quickly found glasses. You filled one with water before heading back towards his room. You debated finding food for him, but water seemed more important right now. That is, until you opened his bedroom door and found him passed out. Sighing once more, you deposited the glass on his nightstand, then reached into his pockets, pulling out his wallet and phone. His charger was laying on the floor by the nightstand, and you plugged in his phone while he snored loudly. Then, as gently as you could, you lifted his legs and pulled them to the bed, angling him so that his head was on the pillows…more or less.
Shaking your head slightly and fighting a smile, you crept out of his room, letting him sleep it off. You wondered if you should just go home, but you were worried about him; he had gotten pretty drunk. Making your way back to the kitchen, you glanced in his fridge. He kept it well-stocked, and you vaguely remembered him telling you he liked to cook. Nodding to yourself, you went to the couch in the living room, making yourself comfortable, and falling asleep quickly.
********************
You awoke early in the morning. The apartment was silent, and you stretched before getting up. After splashing some water in your face while in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen. You took out the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, cheese, and salsa you had found the previous night. You weren’t a whiz in the kitchen, but you could make an omelet easily enough. Searching through cabinets for pans, you also found a cheese grater. You glanced at the potatoes in a basket on the counter, deciding to add some hash browns to the mix. Greasy food was the best for hangovers. Finding the pans, you started grating the potatoes, letting them cook a bit before starting on the meat.
There was a beep behind you, and you jumped before you realized it was the automatic coffeemaker. You searched until you found mugs, then made yourself a cup as you cooked. Once the meat and potatoes were done, you turned everything to low, waiting for Sonny to wake up. Eggs don’t take much to cook, and you could make them as he showered or drank coffee.
As if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear Sonny shuffling about in his room. The door slowly opened, and a very disgruntled-looking Sonny stumbled out of his room. Since waking, he had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, making your cheeks burn. His eyes were barely open, and his hair hung limply on his face as he rubbed his head.
When he caught you in his kitchen, he froze, eyes going wide. “Wh-what are you doing here?” he muttered. His eyes traveled over the various pans on the stove before coming back to your face. “Wait…please tell me we didn’t….”
“N-no! I just gave you a ride home last night, then slept on your couch to make sure you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning,” you explained. Though, you were slightly disappointed with how upset he seemed about potentially sleeping with you.
Sonny nodded, moving to make himself a cup of coffee. “And the breakfast is just a bonus?”
“I figured you’d need the help. You were pretty…fucked up last night,” you smiled, and he groaned.
“Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing,” he mumbled as you cracked the eggs into the pan.
You salted and peppered the eggs, then moved to poke at the hash browns, making sure they weren’t sticking to the pan. “I wasn’t there at the bar, so you’d have to ask your squad for that story. But, uh, I did watch you lose a fight to a seatbelt.”
“Fucking fantastic,” he replied, letting out a soft chuckle. He came over to you as you flipped the eggs, watching you work. “That it? Nothing else? Because I did wake up fully clothed, minus shoes and a tie.”
Your cheeks burned and you kept your eyes on the eggs as you put the mushrooms on top. “I’ve learned you really want cuddles when drunk…and that you think my hair is soft.” You didn’t dare look at him as you sprinkled some cheese on the mushrooms, then folded half the eggs on top of it. You plated the omelet, pouring some salsa on top and adding more cheese. “The tie just seemed like a safety precaution.”
You kept your eyes on the food, even as you felt Sonny staring at you. Once you had scooped hash browns, sausage, and bacon onto the plate, you chanced a glance at him, offering him the plate. Sonny’s eyes bored into yours, holding you there for what seemed like forever before he took the plate from you.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
You gave him a small smile. “Anytime,” you breathed back. Sonny moved to a free spot on the counter, taking small bites of food. But his eyes went wide as he tasted it, and he started shoveling food into his mouth. Grinning, you scooped the rest of the food onto another plate before moving to soak the pans.
You ate in silence, pausing only to drink coffee. Having less food, you finished first, then moved to start doing the dishes.
“No, no. You made this amazing food; I’ll do dishes,” Sonny said, swallowing hard.
You shook your head. “It’s fine, Son; I made a mess of your kitchen. I’ll clean it—”
“Like hell you will. First, you made sure I made it home safe. Second, you stayed the night to make sure I didn’t die. And third, you made me the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time—I swear my hangover is gone. You are not doing dishes.”
You smirked. “Okay fine, you win.” Instead, you finished your coffee, rinsing the mug out in the sink. Sonny continued eating, and you felt awkward standing in his kitchen. “So…I guess I’ll see you at work?” you said as a way of goodbye. You grabbed your phone off the counter, slowly making your way to his door.
“Wait!” Sonny called out, following you out of the kitchen. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he shifted on his feet. “I-I feel like I should give you a better thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
“It’s fine, Sonny, really. That’s what friends are for, right?” you shrugged.
Sonny seemed to fight with himself for a moment before he muttered, barely audible for you to hear, “what if…I don’t want to be just friends?”
“What?” you asked, your heart racing. He wasn’t drunk anymore, and if what he was saying was true….
He came closer to you. “What if I don’t want to be just friends?” he repeated. “It seems like…drunk me was at least trying to flirt with you…. Something sober me is too damn nervous to even attempt.” When you still didn’t respond, he let out a huff. “What I mean is, I-I like you…a lot. And I’d, uh, I’d like to get to know you better?”
“You’re not still drunk, are you?” you asked, half-joking. Sonny shook his head, eyes wide. “Okay, good. Because you kinda did profess your love to me last night…but I was afraid that it was only because you were drunk.”
Sonny ran a hand over his face. “Did I really? I’m…so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”
“No, it’s fine, really. I, uh…I’ve liked you for a while now. I was just worried that it was your drunk self that liked me, and not, uh, you,” you explained.
Sonny smiled sarcastically. “Drunk me says what sober me is thinking…most of the time.” He rubbed his neck anxiously. “So, uh, can we go on a date? No alcohol, I promise.”
You chuckled. “I’d like that. You obviously have my number—call me?”
“Of course. Let me clean up here—myself as well as the sink—and then I’ll give you a call,” Sonny grinned genuinely this time, and you melted.
“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.” You made your way out of his apartment, giving him a small wave. As he closed the door behind you, you broke out in a wide grin, excited for a date with Detective Carisi.
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hopelessly-me · 3 years
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Spooky prompt: avengers pumpkin carving contest
LISA HI! Omg- this one turned into feelings. I was originally going to write it to be a silly, crack type fic but then... my brain decided feelings had to be had. So here is some Bucky and Clint (with the team) goodness, and I hope you enjoy. (1689 word count)
If y'all want to send me spooky season themed prompts, I'm still open to doing them. =)
“Going to join in?” Clint asked Bucky, tilting his head over to the layers of plastic wrap on the floor constructed in a large circle, pumpkins all around.
“I… don’t know,” Bucky answered honestly.
“I’ll save you a spot, just in case,” Clint said with a wink before he walked over to the group that was assembling. Clint placed his forearm and elbow on Bruce’s shoulder, looking at the scientist and smiling.
“You know… it might not be a bad thing if you tried,” Steve pointed out. Bucky nearly jumped, not expecting Steve so close. “If you want, you can help me with my pumpkin.”
“I think I should sit this one out,” Bucky said.
He knew Steve wouldn’t push. None of them would. It was only a few months since Bucky had started his stay at the Tower and there were just some things he wasn’t ready to do just yet. Going out on Avenger mission, training with them- even holding knives could make him start to panic a little, worry that something, somewhere, deep within him would come back out. He couldn’t shake the idea that the Soldier sometimes had more control than Bucky did, and it was terrifying.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Steve said, patting his shoulder before he walked by. “Alright guys- ready?” he asked. “FRIDAY, are you taping this?” Steve asked.
“Of course, Captain,” the AI system said.
“Alright guys, Rules for the annual Avengers pumpkin carving contest. You may only use the tools in front of you. No additional knives, no lasers- nothing.” Bucky was pretty sure Tony pouted. “We have one hour to recreate the pumpkin that auto generates on the screen. Whoever wins gets the entire month of November off from training. All agreed?”
“Agreed,” was the common response.
“Alright then. FRIDAY, the count down please,” Steve said.
A handful of months and slowly Bucky was learning about the people who stayed in the Tower nearly full time. He knew who he could go to when he needed to get his mind off of things, and who he could sit with when he just needed some quiet time. He knew who was up for the most fun, and who would really rather be alone themselves without someone nearby. But it seemed like no matter how they liked to live their lives, everyone came together for these monthly “family night” events and would just… breathe. They would all find enjoyment out of each other’s quirks and sometimes those moments transcended into their daily lives.
Still- Bucky wasn’t ready to be fully involved yet. He was still working out if he felt like he deserved it, which was harder when Tony became visibly worried of Bucky’s presence in the room, especially if he was around knives. And while Bucky knew he couldn’t take the blame for things he didn’t have control over, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take the emotions from it and hold them close.
He walked around the room and watched as everyone worked on their pumpkins. He was beginning to see who were the artistic types and who wasn’t solely based on how well their Haunted Houses turned out. Natasha might not be the best artistically but she was by the far the best with wielding a knife, although Clint was a close second. Steve was arguably the best artistically, Sam fairly good himself, but neither of them could wield the tools in front of them quite like Clint and Natasha.
“Hey,” Clint said, looking up from his pumpkin with a smile.
“Hey. Having fun?” Bucky asked.
“Eh. It’s pumpkin carving,” Clint answered honestly. “Wanna sit?” he asked. Bucky couldn’t see the harm of sitting there, so he did. “Spooky season. How do you feel about it?”
“Well.. at one time in my life I would say that there wasn’t a point to it because monsters weren’t really,” Bucky answered. “Now… that’s a hard argument to make.”
“No joke,” Clint muttered.
“What about you?” Bucky asked.
“I love everything Halloween,” Clint answered. “Magic might not be my favorite thing, but I like everything else. Corn mazes, hayrides, pumpkin spiced everything.” He was leaning over, the back of his shirt riding up as he did so. “But growing up in the circus- you get to see Halloween every day. I used to hate it for the longest time because the season reminded me of my life before SHIELD and the Avengers. Now I can kind of separate the two and go back to loving the season again. Haunted houses and all.”
Bucky knew there was a point to this conversation. Clint didn’t open up about his life before SHIELD to anyone without there being a reason. So when Bucky didn’t answer, Clint looked over at him and held the smallest of the knives out to him. Bucky looked down at his hand, covered in chipped away pumpkin and tiny little scars before he looked back up.
“You can still hate what they put you through. But you get to decide how to move forward and what you get to love again. And maybe carving pumpkins can be one of those things,” Clint said. “Your choice though.”
Bucky nodded and took the tool out of Clint’s hand and pulled the pumpkin over between them. “Never carved one before,” he admitted. “At least not that I can remember.”
“That’s okay, my pumpkin looks like shit anyway,” Clint replied.
Bucky turned it around and snorted. “Did you even try to make this a haunted house?” Bucky asked, looking at the stars and the arrows Clint had etched into the pumpkin.
“Nah. Not with the shit food I eat all the time. I need that training in my life,” Clint answered with a grin. He scooted closer to Bucky and set the rest of the tools between them. “Your move, Barnes.”
The hour passed much too quickly before the fake air horn sounded. Bucky startled and looked at the others before he looked down at the pumpkin in front of him. Arrows and stars, a moon, planets, swirls- the pumpkin he shared with Clint looked like a mess of anything and everything they could think of. Bucky glanced up at Clint, who was all smiles, leaning over and talking to Sam, checking out his pumpkin and laughing. Bucky looked back at the pumpkin and the tools that were set between them.
“You alright?” Natasha asked.
Bucky looked over, Natasha leaned over his way in one of those rare moments she was willing to extend the olive branch, just a little. “Yeah- I’m alright,” Bucky admitted, finally setting that small tool Clint had handed over down. “I… think we might have lost the contest,” he admitted.
“If it makes you feel better… Steve always wins,” Natasha said before she leaned back and away.
Each pumpkin was turned around when Steve called out to them. Thor looked mighty proud of his attempt, which wasn’t half bad if it wasn’t for the fact that half of the house looked like it had toppled over due to a misplaced cut. Tony’s and Bruce’s looked almost exactly alike- both simple in form, but to the point- Bucky wondered if it was because they could look at blueprints and space things out easily. Natasha and Sam’s looked like completely failed attempts, just like Wanda and Vision’s attempt, but none of them seemed to care.
“Alright you two- how did it go?” Steve asked, looking at Clint and Bucky.
“Ta-da!” Clint said loudly, proud of their work as he turned the pumpkin around. “I am calling this one- friendship!”
“Wow. Masterful art piece. We should encase it,” Tony taunted with a smile. “It’s very early childhood-esque. It make you feel-”
“Ew, don’t museum me. That’s what Steve is for in real museums,” Clint scolded playfully.
“Did you even attempt a haunted house anywhere in that?” Sam asked with a grin.
“Who would do haunted houses when you can do arrows?” Clint asked. He sighed dreamily and let himself fall back, Bucky’s arm reaching out quickly to prevent him from hitting the ground. “I love arrows.”
“You’re a dork,” Natasha said through a laugh.
“Honestly- is anyone surprised by bird brain and Terminator’s pumpkin?” Tony asked. There was a small chorus of no. “Alright Steve-”
Bucky watched as the team argued and bickered about who’s pumpkin was best. Clint had leaned forward again, throwing himself into the conversation, grinning and laughing with the others. Bucky looked back down at the pumpkin that Clint and him made, still trying to figure out how he felt about it until he realized that this was the closest he had been to the team since coming along. That warm feeling started to push its way in as he realized for almost an hour he was lost in something other than his thoughts, and that he was part of this small community.
Looking up, Bucky caught Steve’s eyes on him before Steve smiled and looked down at the pumpkin. Bucky nodded and smiled himself before he glanced over at the person who helped make it happen. Clint stated how he needed the training because his diet was shit. Maybe Bucky should start going to the training sessions now- needing them to help him settle into this community. Maybe he was finally ready for it.
“Rigged! This contest is rigged! Clearly my pumpkin is the best!” Steve shouted.
“Sorry Stevie- the voting has concluded,” Clint said in a very serious tone. “Brucie has the best pumpkin.” Bruce’s face was starting to turn red and Natasha had leaned over, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“It's okay to lose sometimes, Stevie,” Tony taunted, reaching out to pick at Steve, who pushed his hands away.
“Collusion,” Steve muttered.
“Collusion,” Sam repeated in a high pitched tone, straightening up as he laughed, his hands over his stomach. The whole team was laughing now. Clint knocked over, pressing against Bucky’s side to keep himself upright. Bucky looked at him and smiled before he looked at Steve.
“Sorry Punk,” Bucky offered.
“Yeah yeah- it’s alright,” Steve said. “Happy Halloween, team.”
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janiedean · 3 years
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I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.
me: reads this ask
me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but
okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.
disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years
in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck
when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show
now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it
that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big
now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;
I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion
now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff
this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun
anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened
god j*nerys happened
aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN
and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah
this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no
(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)
I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo
there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I
there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried
tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*
so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents
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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years
Note
I’ve just read the head cannons of Chuuya and Dazai’s bebes and I love it 🥰 can you write how they’ll react when someone kidnapped their babies and how they would get them back? QwQ
A/N : I've been gone for so long and I'm so sorry. This request and many others have laid dormant in my ask box for many many months and I'm so sorry. I went through big depression kick, and I didn't write for a while. I ended up getting laid off from my job because of the rona, and everything just felt uncertain for a while and I honestly didn't really know what to do. I slowly got back into writing, starting off with my fanfiction just to get back into the swing of it, and now I'm ready to make y'all proud and finish all the requests! I'm sorry for making you all wait so long, and I want this request and all other requests that I answer to be amazing for all of you. So, here we go! -Hopefully (still) Your Favorite Dingus
T/W : angst; kidnapping; slight mention of blood;
Osamu Dazai
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Kazue was the literal light of his life, aside from you... obviously. You and his son were the center of his entire universe, he would do anything for you and his son. He made that quite known, considering how spoiled your son was already. At three years old, Dazai had already managed to buy your son everything he did, and sometimes didn't need.
Your son was a lot like his dad in the way that he liked to run off often, having you worried sick in the middle of the grocery store of mall. Dazai would often find him at the gumball machines or the tiny change eating rides in the middle of the mall. Your son hated to be confined in his stroller, and Dazai agreed that strollers were awful contraptions and that your son should be allowed to walk around.
His views quickly changed when you were out shopping for groceries one afternoon. Dazai was at work, and trying to keep your son in the shopping cart proved to be impossible, so you had agreed to let him out of the cart as long as he stayed close to you and hold your hand. You promised to get him candy if he followed those two simple rules, but thanks to Dazais relaxed parenting, your son just assumed he'd get candy no matter what. (Thanks Dazai)
You had only let go of his hand for a second, kneeling down to grab something from the bottom shelf. The last thing you heard was the small cry of "Momma!" and when you shot up and turned around he was gone. Your heart sank as you dropped the item in your hand and ran to the front of the store, asking the employees if they had seen your son, showing them the pictures in your wallet, and all of them shook their head, only able to offer their sympathies to you.
Calling your husband was the hardest part, trying to keep your voice and your hands steady as you held your phone up to your ear. The employees had already called the police for you, and they were scouring the entire store trying to look for any clue as to where your son could be.
When you had managed to tell Dazai what happened, he was on his way to the store, he didn't waste any time at all. He was furious, and at first he took his anger out on you. "I thought you were watching him!" "How could you let this happen?!" "Why would you let him go!?" He was angry and he wasn't thinking straight, but as soon as he saw how his words affected you, he quickly pulled you into a hug, peppering the top of your head with kisses. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, darling. It's not your fault."
An officer brought over Kazue's stuffed kitty cat which was a gift from Fukuzawa. He had gotten it on his first birthday and refused to part with it, he brought it with him everywhere. The sight of the kitty cat not being held by Kazue made you throw up immediately, your mind jumping to the worst possible scenario. You heard Dazai grit his teeth, his arm was wrapped around you tightly, and his grip on your shirt tightened.
The two of you race to the Agency, every other case that they had been working on is dropped instantly. Desks are cleared and pushed together to draw out a map of the entirety of Yokohama. You're sitting on one of the couches in the office, Kazue's kitten clutched against your chest, your tears soaking the top of the plushy. The light in Dazais eyes has disappeared completely, he's stern, on edge. His voice is hard but you can hear it break occasionally at the end of his sentences, especially when he says his sons name.
Ranpo and Atsushi are the main people Dazai communicates with, his voice is mixed with the constant slamming of his fists on the desk when his emotions take over completely. "Where the hell is my son!?" He shouts as he drops his head into his hands. That's the only time he'll cry, his body shaking violently. You walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both sob.
Everyone had been sitting around the office quietly watching you and Dazai have your moment. They all felt hopeless, especially when Dazai had initially went to Ranpo and he didn't seem to have a clue as to where Kazue was or who had taken him. "Why... Why would anyone take him? What's the reason? I want to know a reason!" Dazai shouted, his fists once again coming down on the desk. You pulled away quickly, giving him his space to lash out. He threw everything off the desk, his head dropping into his arms that were folded against the desk and letting out a scream.
His strength was being tested, he was breaking. It killed you to see him like this, you knew that there was nothing you could do to calm him. There was nothing worse that could ever happen to him, his son was everything to him. Kazue was the reason he had stopped attempting suicide, Kazue gave him a reason to stay alive, Kazue was his life line. Dazai loved his son with every fiber of his being, and right now he not only lost his son, he lost his reason for living. If anything were to happen to your son, if the worst case scenario was the actual case, you were sure that you would lose your husband as well.
All hope had seemed lost, the sun was quickly setting over the city. Everyone was emotionally exhausted. You were curled up on the couch, your head resting on Dazai's lap, his fingers massaging your scalp. "Please, get some rest darling. You need it." He whispered to you when he saw you slowly drift to sleep only to have your eyes open quickly. You felt bad for falling asleep, knowing that your son was out there somewhere without you or his father.
You handed Dazai the stuffed kitten before rolling over and trying to get comfortable. "Here, if anything comes up.. he's gonna need his Fuwa." You said sleepily, and you heard Dazai's chuckle, it sounded like he was being choked. He sniffled as he grabbed the kitten and brought it up to his face, silently crying into it.
Ranpo stood up from his chair and made his way over to the desk, pulling the map up off the floor and laying it flat on the desk. His eyes were wide open, the soft emerald green had long since turned as hard as the gem itself. Dazai shifted you off his lap and made his way over to Ranpo, stuffing Fuwa into his coat pocket. Atsushi followed him over and they both peered over Ranpo's shoulder, looking down at the map, following where Ranpo pointed with his fingers.
"The warehouse... next to the Port. Whoever it was quick enough to be gone before Y/N could notice, but he was still able to drop his cat. That means the person was on foot, so this person would have to be somewhere close to the store so a scene wouldn't be made, but somewhere they could hide him. They're most likely expecting us to show up, they want something in return, this is a ransom kidnapping." Ranpo said and Dazai nodded, trusting him with 100% of his being. He had to be right, but Dazai also knew how some ransom situations worked out. If it took too long...
"We have to go now." Dazai growled, and Ranpo nodded, Atsushi "hmph"ing in agreement. Kunikida stood up from his chair, joining the three of them by the door.
"None of you know how to drive. Let's go." Kunikida had a soft spot for Kazue, he wanted your son home safe as much as everyone else. (Even if he thought his father was a complete dunce.)
Everyone in the office agreed to stay with you just in case you woke up before the four of them got back, and with that they all ran out the door, hopping into Kunikida's car and speeding off towards the warehouse.
When they got there, they snuck up to the doors of the warehouse. Dazai leaned his head against the door, hoping to hear something, anything that would indicate that his son was in there. His heart was beating fast, and as much as he wanted to murder someone for stealing his son in the first place, he wanted to bring Kazue home with him, bring him back to you safe and sound more than anything else.
"Momma... Daddy..." He heard the soft whimpers of his son coming from the inside of the warehouse. It sounded like he was crying and Dazai to control his urge to kick down the door right then and there. He needed to be careful so that no harm would come to his son, but the sounds of his son softly crying had him seeing red. "Pwease..." He heard his son again and his heart shattered, the sound of his son pleading with his captor had him on the verge of an anger induced emotional breakdown.
Kunikida pulled the gun from the back of his pants and silently counted down from three before they pulled the door open. All four of them had guns, refusing to let Atsushi use his ability out of fear of hurting Kazue. There was one man in the corner of the room, a gun pointed at the head of your son as he smirked up at the four men. They all stopped dead in their tracks, dropping their guns to the ground and holding their hands up in the air. "Please, don't hurt him..." Dazai choked out, his eyes locking with his son in the corner.
"Took you all long enough to show up, thought you guys were detectives. He was becoming a pain in my ass, constantly crying, asking for his mommy and daddy and his Fuwa." The man chuckled as he cocked the gun back and pointed it back at your son. "Do you know why I'm doing this? Do you know?!" The guy shouted and Kazue cried out, his arms outstretched for Dazai.
He felt like he was going to collapse, the room was spinning, he had to compose himself though, he had to stay focused. He looked to Kunikida and Atsushi, hoping the plan would work out how they had said.
Kunikida quickly bent down and grabbed his gun off the floor, firing one shot at the arm of the man, making him drop the gun. Kazue let out a shrill scream and Dazai took this moment to run over and scoop him up off the floor, holding him close against his chest. The other three ran over to the man, Atsushi and Kunikida pinned him down on the ground as Ranpo cuffed his arms behind his back.
After the police took the man away they all made their way back to the Agency building, Dazai was in the back of the car holding Kazue on his lap, rocking him back and forth as his son fell asleep in his arms. The man had been one of the criminals they had captured before Kazue was even born. He had held an entire bank and its customers hostage, but had never actually killed someone, so he was let out on good behavior recently. He had been stalking Dazai, and he found out about you and Kazue and decided that he would have his revenge for the Agency ruining his life. None of them ever found out if the man would have actually hurt Kazue, and honestly, they didn't want to know, they were all just happy that he was unharmed.
When they walked through the door and you saw Kazue being cradled in Dazais arms you fell to your knees and cried. Tanizaki and Yosano had to help you stand up, and as soon as you found your footing you ran over to Dazai. "Hi Momma!"
Dazai now sternly enforced the stroller rule, he didn't want to go through anything like that ever again.
Chuuya Nakahara
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Asa was his princess and you were his queen. But his daughter, oof, if anyone even looked at his daughter wrong for crying he would kill someone. Do not test Chuuya when it comes to his child. He would kiss the ground that she crawls on, he loves her so much.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think his office was a shrine dedicated to her and you. There were framed pictures of you and her, and sometimes the three of you hung on his wall, propped up on his desk and coffee table, pretty much any surface that could have pictures, they were covered.
She had just celebrated her first birthday, she was learning how to walk which Chuuya would not shut up about. If there was ever a moment to talk about his daughter he would. The Mafia members had all learned to just deal with it, knowing that if they looked agitated about the constant talk of his daughter they would either be demoted or have their asses kicked.
"Does she really have to start sleeping in her own room? She's got a crib in our room, I don't see the problem." Chuuya whispered to you from the couch as you made your way into the room opposite of yours and his. She had an entire nursery that was practically unused due to protective parenting. He really didn't see a reason in having her in a completely different room when it was so much easier to have her in yours and his room. If she woke up, he could get her immediately and get her back to sleep in the bed between the two of you.
When you came out of the bedroom you sat with him on the couch, his arm habitually wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer. He turned down the television so he could hear the monitor clearly. "If she gets too used to sleeping with us in our room, she'll never want to sleep in her own room. She's not that much further. You're spoiling her, honey." He groaned and you stifled your laughter, propping yourself up to press a quick peck to his cheek. "We should try to get some rest while she's sleeping. Come on."
The two of you laid in your bed, he held you close against his chest while you traced hearts against his bare chest with your finger. "I don't know why she has to sleep in her own room now though. She's only a year old. She's still my baby. I feel better having her close." He sighed, adjusting his free hand behind his head as he turned to look over at the video monitor, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly as he watched his daughter sleep peacefully in her crib.
"You're scared of her growing up. She's turned you into a big softy. You know, she's gonna keep growing."
"Don't say that. She's only one." He pulled his arm out from underneath you and ran his hands over his face. He hated thinking of her getting bigger, growing older. The thought of her not being the adorable, babbling baby that waddled over to the door whenever he walked in with open arms was enough to make him almost cry. ALMOST.
"You know... we can have more..." You said almost too seductively as you peppered kisses across his shoulders. It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't take it as such. He wouldn't mind one or two more little princesses or princes teetering around the house.
The two of you thoroughly tired each other out, the night seemed to be going perfectly. Asa hadn't woken up yet, and this was the first time the two of you had been able to be intimate in that way since she had reached the eight month mark. You fully blamed Chuuya for that though, he had spoiled her so much, but he didn't seem to mind it at the time. Now he seemed to be convinced that having her in a separate room wasn't such a bad thing.
Everything was silent, the only sound was the crickets chirping outside and the occasional sound of a car passing by in the distance. That would shortly come to an end though, the sound of glass breaking and Asa's blood curdling scream coming from both the monitor and the room across the hall had jolted you and Chuuya from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the monitor off the nightstand and Chuuya ordered you to stay in bed as he ran out of the room and into Asa's room. You knew though, it was too late as you saw the cloaked man who was holding your daughter jump out of the window just as the door flew open and Chuuya came into view on the screen.
"NO! Son of a BITCH!" His screeching voice was just as loud as your daughters cries had been and you dropped the monitor into your lap on the bed as the realization hit you. This wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to Chuuya, if you had let her sleep in your bedroom as she always had. He ran back into the room, flicking the lights on as he went over to the closet and quickly got dressed.
"This... this is my fault... if I would have listened..." You said, not able to face your him at all. He turned to face you, sighing as he tried to calm his nerves. He was already fully dressed, ready to hunt down and murder the asshole who had the nerve to take HIS daughter. He made his way around the bed to the side you were on, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you softly.
"Don't you even dare blame yourself. I'm gonna get her back. I need you to stay here though, I can't have you getting hurt." You knew what he meant. The way that he felt right now, this would probably turn into an all out war, and if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time you could end up injured. You nodded slowly, kissing him one last time before he ran out of the room and out the front door.
He barely gave the car time to start up before slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, peeling out of the parking spot and speeding down the street. His vision was blurry as the tears started to stream out of his eyes, he was only able to keep his composure long enough to hopefully make you feel better. Now that he was alone he had hurdled the thin line between lashing out and having a complete mental and emotional breakdown.
The only thing keeping him from getting into a severe car accident was knowing that he had to stay alive to save Asa. Although he couldn't see where he was going through his clouded vision, he had dedicated the route to muscle memory, and he could luckily see faint streaks of red and green lights indicating braking cars and traffic lights.
When he got to the headquarters he got some questionable stares from the guards, it was three o'clock in the morning, considerably late, or maybe early, to be coming into work. When they attempted to speak to him he couldn't even mumble out a "fuck off" through his sobs. He raced up the stairs, not having the patience to deal with waiting for the elevator to get him up to the floor he needed to be on.
He stormed into Mori's office, and, not unlike his boss, he found him sitting at his desk, his hands folded under his chin as he stared down at the papers in front of him. "They said you'd be on your way up. What's wrong Chuuya?" Mori asked, motioning to the armchair in front of his desk. Chuuya didn't want to sit though, so he strode over to the desk, slamming the note that had been left in Asa's room down in front of Mori. "What is this?" Mori asked, grabbing the note between his gloved fingers and unfolding it.
"He got my Asa. I'm gonna fucking kill him!" Chuuya screamed, remembering the words that had been carefully scripted out on the thick note paper.
"For the beautiful woman who was murdered by one of your own. I shall avenge her. An eye for an eye. -H"
He knew exactly who "H" was, and he knew exactly who the beautiful woman was that he was speaking of. What he didn't understand was why he would target his family, his daughter to get back at the Mafia for what had happened. Chuuya hadn't even taken part in the situation that had sparked this outcome, so it made absolutely no sense to him.
"Chuuya, you need to stay calm. Asa is loved dearly by everyone here, I will get together everyone needed to find her." Chuuya found his bosses strange sense of composure to be infuriatingly irritating.
"How could I possibly stay calm!?" Chuuya shouted, he wanted to lash out, he wanted to go off on someone, anyone.
"I would feel the same way if it was my darling Elise who had been taken." Mori said, but that was a mistake. Chuuya sighed, exasperated. He was pacing the floor, but when Mori had the audacity to utter those words, he punched the wall that he was closest to, leaving a large hole.
"She's your god damn ability! You wouldn't understand half of what I was feeling because this is my actual fucking DAUGHTER! So don't tell me I need to stay calm!" Chuuya screamed, the tears seemed to flow endlessly, staining his cheeks as they ran down to his chin, hanging on for only a second before splashing down onto the hard wood floors. Mori didn't argue back, he knew that Chuuya was emotionally unstable right now, so he just nodded in agreement.
"So what is it that you need me to do?" He asked, the phone already in his hand as his fingers hovered over the dial.
"Get everyone here..." Chuuya muttered before finally crashing down in the armchair. His sobs had eventually become choked off, and he was left shaking in the chair, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he tried to hold himself together.
Everyone had filed into the office, some of them looked agitated, others looked tired and pissed off that they had been woken up, but when they saw Chuuya's current state they knew that something was wrong. His usual smug, cocky smirk seemed to have been erased, the only emotion that was left to be read on his face was pain.
Chuuya didn't need to say much, no one needed a thorough explanation to jump into action. Asa was the one beacon of light that graced the walls of the Mafia headquarters whenever Chuuya brought her in. She had even managed to make Akutagawa crack a small smile when she had burped in Chuuya's face and then spit up on his freshly laundered coat.
Around five o'clock in the morning he got a call from you. He answered it quickly, and it broke his heart to hear how distraught you were. "H-Hi honey... It's almost time for her bottle. She'll need to eat soon, and she'll need to be changed, and and and... god, please tell me you've found her..." You were a mess, and he could only imagine how much harder it was for you to be there in your home, surrounded by all of her things but not her.
"Not yet... but I swear, I'm gonna bring her home to you, okay? Trust me." He needed you to trust him, because right now all hope seemed lost. There was no possible leads as to where the jackass could be keeping her, nobody knew where to find the guy.
"It's... It's so quiet... please bring her home." You whispered out between broken sobs, he heard you try to swallow back the lump that had been building in your throat. He could only nod, giving you a small hum as an answer.
After you had hung up, whispering out a solemn "I love you." Before ending the call he was right back at it. He was dead set on catching this guy today. Not only had he stolen away his daughter, but he had destroyed his wife, his love... This man had crossed a line and he was going to pay for it.
"Oi, Chuuya. Look, at the bottom of the note." Tachihara said, he had the note close up to his face, his eyes squinting as he focused on the tiny scrawling at the bottom of the page. Chuuya ran over and snatched the paper out of his hands, walking over to the large window to try to shine some light onto the paper and see the writing clearer.
"For fucks sake, they're coordinates! They were here the entire time!" Chuuya was seething now, this must have been a sick game to that man. Chuuya grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed for the door, but he was stopped by Mori who placed a hand on his chest.
"This might be a trap, how do you know it's not?" Mori said and there was a soft murmur of agreement from the group of people that were standing around.
"Does it matter!? She could be there and that's all that matters!" Chuuya screamed, the tears that threatened to spill were stinging his eyes. The fact that they thought he cared about his own safety as this moment was almost laughable, he would have laughed if his throat didn't feel like it was closing in on itself. "If you're so fucking worried than I'll take Akutagawa..." This is all his fault anyway, isn't it? Akutagawa was the one who had murdered the woman who he was avenging, so he might as well come along.
Chuuya pulled the coordinates up on his phone and it pinpointed a building that seemed on the map to be rundown and abandoned. A princess like Asa didn't belong in a place like that, it made him sick to even imagine his beautiful, precious daughter in such a desolate area. He growled as the directions read that it would take an hour and a half, maybe two hours to get there.
He would make it in half the time though. He could give a shit less about traffic rules, and if the cops even dared to try to stop him on his mission, the wrath of Hell and Chuuya would be brought down upon them. He sped down the streets, winding through traffic like it was nothing. He didn't speak a word to Akutagawa, and Akutagawa knew not to talk to him right now either. Chuuyas mind was a frenzy, a whirlwind of emotions. A mixture of anger, depression, rage, and heartache, and all of those emotions were just simmering.
The devil himself wouldn't be able to stomach what Chuuya planned on doing to the man who took his daughter from him.
He made it there in record time, the drive only took fifty five minutes, an hour tops to get there. The entire drive, Chuuya's eyes would glance in the windshield mirror, looking back at the empty car seat, hoping that it would soon be filled with his perfect little bundle of joy to be brought home.
Chuuya kicked the door in and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the trail of blood droplets on the floor. His heart sank while his stomach rose, he tried to control his dry heaving as horrid images and scenes filled his mind. "Remember his ability, it uses blood." Akutagawa said sternly, trying to keep Chuuya from losing it completely already.
They followed the trail up a case of stairs that seemed like a safety hazard, and Chuuya hated to think that his daughter was in this place at all. It wasn't safe enough for her to be in, she could get hurt at any point. This place needed to be demolished as soon as he got her out of here. He would do it himself if the city didn't want to.
The blood stopped in front of a door, and as soon as Chuuya heard the soft whimpering of his daughter behind the door he kicked it in. She was sitting in a small dingy playpen in the corner of the room, and Akutagawa had to hold Chuuya back to keep him from running straight for her.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? SHE'S RIGHT THERE!" Chuuya shouted, alerting his daughter to his presence. She pulled herself up on the rails of the playpen, stomping her feet to show him that she was becoming impatient.
"This might be the trap. We need to be careful." Akutagawa hissed, and Chuuya knew he was right. He sighed and peaked into the room, scanning it entirely to make sure it was empty before stepping in. Akutagawa followed close behind, Rashomon creating a shield around himself and Chuuya as they made their way over to Asa.
As soon as Chuuya got close enough he pulled her out of the playpen, holding her tight against his chest. He breathed her in, finding instant comfort in the smell of the all too familiar baby lotion and lavender shampoo that you used for her nightly baths. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, princess. My beautiful baby girl, daddy loves you so much." He cooed to her, but just as things seemed to be going flawlessly, a loud scream escaped her tiny rose petal lips.
A hail of what seemed like bullets were fired across the room, and one of them managed to hit her leg. Chuuya held onto his composure long enough to check her leg, it had just skimmed by, but it was enough to make her bleed and to make her cry. He was trembling, all of his emotions had formed into one cluster fuck of pure, unfiltered rage. He passed Asa over to Akutagawa and ordered him to leave the room through his teeth. Akutagawa didn't bother to argue, instead wrapping Rashomon around himself and Asa completely and running out of the room and down the stairs.
Chuuyas teeth were barred as the man stepped out from the darkest shadow of the room. He didn't have time to speak before Chuuya charged at him, tackling him to the ground and pummeling him with his bare hands, the force of his ability behind each and every punch would leave the man unrecognizable. He was going to kill him, he wanted to kill him, but the vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop. He pulled his phone out and when he saw it was you it brought him back to reality, the reality that his daughter was waiting for him, and you were still at home waiting for him to bring her home.
He answered it, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wiped the blood of the man off his hands. "Did you find her? Tell me you found her!" Your voice was hoarse, he knew that you hadn't stopped crying. He couldn't keep you waiting any longer, you deserved to hold Asa in your arms as well.
"We'll be home in an hour or two." He said, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders when he heard your sigh of relief at his words.
Two Months Later
Chuuya was propped up on the floor, his head resting in his open palm as he bounced Asa's plush horse across the floor, making the horse noises as he did so. The sound of Asa's laughter was music to his ears, and her wide smile was just as beautiful as she flaunted her newly sprouted bottom two teeth. She crawled across the floor towards Chuuya who quickly lifted her up in the air. "Airplane Asa coming in for the landing!" He said playfully as he lowered her down to her his face and pressed a quick kiss to her nose.
His head shot up as he heard the bedroom door open. You had your hands behind your back, and the wide smile that spread across your face when you saw him made his heart flutter. He sat up, his back against the couch now, Asa on his lap attempting to imitate her fathers horse sounds as she bounced the plush horse across her lap. "What's up, baby?" Chuuya asked, wondering what could possibly be behind your back.
You moved your hands to the front, holding the white stick between two fingers and smiling down at him. "Congratulations, daddy."
a/n : I hope you enjoyed my first request after my ridiculously long hiatus. Again, I apologize for being gone so long, but I can't wait to start working on all the requests that are in my inbox. I love you all!
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