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lillaxtrigger · 9 months ago

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Street Smarts: Chapter 26

The glistening moonlight beams past the countless branches composing the depths of a wild forest, shining down into the fall atmosphere to spotlight upon a lone woman sitting against the bottom of a rocky incline; her eyes darting to the darkest corner when witnessing somebody step into the light. Out from the shadows steps out a blonde gentleman whose pale skin glistens in the night, licking his pointed fangs when discovering the site of the woman in the umbra light. “Ah, Jennifer. What a pleasure.” he cheers with melancholy. “Jack! You came? Why have you followed me?” “I had to see you again. I needed to see you again? When you left, I felt pieces of my soul leave with you.” “Jack, you don’t understand. I had to leave. If I didn’t, he would rip you apart just to get to me.” “He?”

Their attention is then baited to the top of the rocky incline, where upon another figure steps out from the shadows to present himself to the moonlight; a muscular shirtless man with a hairy chest and beard staring down to them both. The vampire gasps when gazing to the man’s bare chest and exclaims out: “Jacob! You foul monster!” “Indeed Jack, it is I. Your werewolf rival, I shall win the heart of dear Jennifer. “Curse you and you’re gorgeous man pecks, you fiend.” Their argument swiftly subsides when the werewolf lunges down from the top of the cliff towards his vampire nemesis, Jack preparing for his approach as he bares his fangs.

“Wait, so the vampire hates the werewolf for being in love with the same girl and the lady can’t decide on who she wants to fuck?” questions Wedsle, sitting next to Tuesco on the couch as he looks on to the movie in suspense. “Its more than that. Its a story about the complicated bonds between lovers and a centuries long rivalry between species. Its not just a matter of love, its a matter of dominance. A metaphor for which of their species holds the right to exist and take charge into the future. Fighting not just for her, but for their worlds.” the middle aged former officer dramatically express. “So its just two dudes fighting over a woman? That’s just fucking stupid. This whole ‘will they won’t they’ shits just boring. Why don’t they all just fuck eachother and be happy. Just have a threesome already, that’d solve everything. Building up sexual tension, start making out while one of them’s ramming her ass while the other deep throating her. That’s real male bonding right there!” Wedsle rants. “You know, I just wish you wouldn’t perverse what few things I have left in life that bring me joy. You already did it with the NYPD, can’t you leave the sanctity of tween drama unsullied for me?” begs Tuesco. “Alright, Christ!” “Thank you.” Simply a few moments to enjoy the movie are all that Tuesco could have before the violet psychic again opens his mouth with: “Just saying: centuries old grudges can’t stand up to the raw sexual energy of an all out orgy.”

The door leading inside the room flings open as Wedsle shovels out from the other side, all the while Tuesco constantly demands that he: “Get out already!” “Alright fine. God. Leave you to coo over your shitty tween crap by yourself, Jesus.” the purple psychic claims as he’s forced to exit from the bedroom. Waltzing away from the bedroom door, small hisses and grunts slip from between Wed’s clenched teeth as he still feels the burns and bruises from his confrontation against a defeated foe; the layers of bandages, cream, and new patches of skin having yet to temper his pain. Christ. 3rd degree burns aren’t something to screw around with. No wonder it fucks people’s lives over. If I had to live with this for the rest of my life, I’d consider pulling the plug. Even with all the new skin and organs Sat help graph on me, still hurts like a bitch. But if the burns don’t end up killing me, the boredom will; gotta be something to do around here to massacre the time.

It while waltzing through the hallway that he comes upon a lone door left a crack open, with his cheeky curiosity compelling him to peek at what may lie inside. On the other side of the slightly open door does he come upon the site of the lively psychic snuggling up to her girlfriend like a love starved cat, having been thought to have perished at the hands of the mob. A comforting moan escapes her while cuddling to Janna’s side, claiming how: “I can’t believe this is happening. Its like waking up from a nightmare, only to find the dream you had the other night came true. I’m glad its this one instead of the one with me being a bears face for a week. Not not even the bear itself, just the face. I don’t know how else to explain it.” “I missed you too Satsy. All that time snooping around, scooping up tidbits of information for you guys, every day, I thought of being with you again. It pains me knowing how much leaving me has hurt you, but having made it on the other side beside you was worth it.” Its upon hearing this that the day their apartment engulfed in hellfire ring in her mind, the image of the burning carcass left in their flaming bedroom flaring in her thoughts.

“A…about that. In the apartment, in our bed; I saw a body. It was burnt beyond recognition, but I thought for sure it was you. What else could it have been? How are you here even?” Sat compels her lover to answer. “Well, I think it was inevitable with what you and Wedsle were planning that the mobs goons would go for the throat the first chance they got. So we brainstormed a contingency plan for when they pulled the knife out.” “Wedsle?” “Yeah; he warned me ahead of time that they would be coming, so both of us whipped up a little ruse for when those bastards sent their goons to doorstep. He’s the one who thought of rigging the place to blow, but I was the one who thought of making a fake body out of discarded meat from a butchery he robbed. Don’t ask me why he robbed a butcher shop, he wouldn’t elaborate.” “Wedsle, knew the whole time!” “Well, yeah…Did he not tell you about all that?” “No! I…Why wouldn’t he say anything? All this time, I thought you were dead and he just stood there and let me think that. I was in pieces about all that, I can’t believe he-”

“Sat Sat Sat Sat!” Janna suddenly pricks, cradling the lively psychics cheeks. “I know there’s a lot that’s going through your head right now, and there is for me too. But lets not go through all that right now. Its obvious you’ve been putting yourself through a lot, and I know you not doing it for nothing. But girl, please slow down. Take a deep breath. I don’t want you to collapse on me, not when we just got each other back. Let just enjoy this while we still have it, because I don’t know if or when we’ll lose it again.” “Janna…” sobs Satette. Their gaze attracting one another, both the lively psychic and Janna comes together to share in each others warmth; their lips pressing together in line with their tight embrace. All the worries and questions seem to melt for the both of them as they enrapture among eachother; like nothing else existed besides themselves.

Outside their passionate show of love for one another hide the perverse purple psychic, peeking into the room from the other side of the cracked open doorway; grinning with perverse glee as he slides the camera of his phone through the other side of the crack. His chance to capture this growing intimate moment however is suddenly slanted when feeling himself being pulled away from the crack of the door; Wedsle soon finding himself face to face with the contemptuous glare of his wall merging partner in crime. “The hell did I say about peeping into people’s rooms?” chastises Frida. “C’mon Frids, you’d deny a man of watching the payoff on the other side of that door.” “I’m keeping you from ruining the moment those too clearly need right now. Janna just got here, after all.” “Just got here? Bitch’s been with us for about half a week and hasn’t even started on decrypting all of Decembers files. Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck here for weeks with jack shit to do while my burns heal; least she could do is put on a show as a way of saying thanks.” “If yer feeling that bored out of your damn mind; why not get your self a drink? Pretty sure the new kidney Sat grafted on you should be ripe and ready to abuse. So leave the two lovebirds alone, kay?” the gunwoman suggests, shoving Weds away from the door. “Jeez, fine. Everybody’s gotta have a stick up there ass about private monogamy today.”

The small light of the kitchen fridge blinks on as Wedsle pulls open the door leading inside; the purple psychic growing irate as he peers through every shelf of the ice box. “What do mean ‘there’s no wine left’.” he questions, glancing back to Thursotte waiting on the other side. “I mean there’s not a single drop of wine left. July used the last of it when sauteing the pork we had the other night. Said it would give the dish a refined pallet or something along those lines.” the chaos triggering psychic reminds him, waiting by the microwave as it cooks what spins inside. “So that’s what that grape aftertaste was. I though all the 3rd degree burns were fucking with my head.” “There’s plenty of beer left in the pantry.” “Who the hell keeps beer in the pantry! The whole point of keep in the fridge is to numb the shitty taste.” curses Weds, slamming the fridge door shut.

“Ya know, on the subject of keeping; I can’t help but ask: Why did you keep Janna’s whereabouts a secret from Sat? I get why Janna couldn’t, but why you? Almost seems like there’s no point.” asks Thurs. “You mean besides the fact we had our hands full trying to find out where December was hiding? See, I know how shitty and callous this is gonna sound, but I needed Sat to focus on the job at hand; can’t have here thinking straight if she knew her sapphic sexual lover was still out there waiting for her. Hell, she probably would’ve snuck out by herself to try and look for her, raising indiscriminate shit along the way. Lord know’s what the mob would try knowing she was by herself; they’d be brain dead not to take advantage of that.” “You’re saying Sat can’t be by herself?” “I’m saying we needed her head in the game. Hated keeping it from her though; its why I thought now would be the perfect time to call the bitch back in the house.” “Huh, interesting way of thinking.” Thurs claims. “There was almost no other way I could think of to make it work. We ain’t dealing with some bad neighbors here, Thurs. This ain’t a game.” “Well, I hope Sat’s prone to understanding it as much as me.”

“Yeah…Alright, if I can’t get smashed, I can at least indulge myself in some good frozen pudding dessert. Where’s that last piece of flan I’ve been keepin in here?” Weds goes, turning back to take another look in the fridge. “Uhhh…” As if right on queue, the microwave finishes cooking whatever was inside and automatically opens its door, presenting within the last piece of flan that Wedsle seeked. The purple psychic himself is left silently irate over this, doing little more but to stare furiously back and forth between Thurs and the piece of dessert. “Uh…I…wanted to try a piece.” he meekly claims. “And you ran a piece of cold dessert through the fucking microwave?” “I have sensitive teeth. Cold food hurts me.” “That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore.”

“Yo, July!” Wedsle suddenly shouts, prompting the keeper of the abode to appear out one of the kitchen cabinets. “You don’t have to shout at me. I’m right here.” he states. “Key. Now.” “Alright, you’re funeral.” the psychic house keeper proclaims, handing Wedsle one of his own bright red keys used to enter and exit from the safehouse. “Wait, where are you going?” wonders Thurs. “Out. I need some fresh air, a bit of a buzz, and hopefully a hooker or two to take the edge off.” “But what about all the dangers you said were waiting out there. You said yourself we had to play it safe.” reminds Thursotte. “Listen here. I’ve been stuck with almost nothing to do but dick around and deal with my burns for the past few weeks. If I don’t get some sun in the next hour or so, I’m going feral.” he warns, stabbing the key in one of the kitchen doors. Upon the key being jammed in the lock, the door glows alight with shining red as it transforms into a completely different door.

As he takes the key out and puts his hand on the knob, Thursotte again attempts to compel to him saying: “But you’re burns haven’t fully healed yet. If you’re going out, at least bring somebody with you.” “Thurs, chill. Long as I lay low, those mob bastards shouldn’t even know I’m out.” “Well, what am I supposed to tell the others?” “Uhhh…” “Wedsle, are you in here?” they then hear being echoed from the door on the other side of the room.” “Make something up. Tell them I’m jacking off somewhere, I don’t know.” the purple psychic hastily advises before slipping his way out. As soon as that very same door turns back to normal, Satette comes out from the other side and into the kitchen; the lively psychic briefly peering throughout the room before looking to Thurs and asking: “Hey, you know where Weds went? I gotta talk to him about something.” “Uhhh…”

From the other side of the psychically conjure door does Wedsle step down from the stoop of an antique shop, looking ahead to find himself standing in a normal urban neighborhood decorated with homes, apartments, and local shops; the standard fair you would find in any residential block of the big apple. The first thing the violet psychic does when finally outside is take in a big whiff of fresh air, a grin forming on his face as he exhales. Ah, the fresh, palatable smog. The cold hard concrete, the constant car horns, the occasional far off gunshots, the meth heads tweaking out in the middle of the Supermarket parking lot. Its been too long since the atmosphere of the urban streets have enraptured me in their gritty, raw charm. Stepping out from that overbearing stuffy safe house and back into the arms of the open streets, I know the first thing I wanna do.

Gaily strolling along through the hardened streets of the Big apple, Wedsle gleefully strolls right past the front of a strippers club and right into the ice cream shop right next door; waltzing right up to the counter to request: “One chocolate dip strawberry cone, please.” “You want sprinkles with that?” “Meh, don’t matter.” Waltzing right out from the ice cream parlor with a delicious scoop of strawberry bathed in chocolate syrup, the violet psychic strolls right back towards the strip club; barging right in to request: “One fellito from your finest employee, please.” “You prefer guys or ladies?” “Meh, don’t matter.” Coming right out from inside the strip joint moments later, Wedsle throws away the paper cone he ate his ice cream with in the trash, slurping up the last of the strawberry dip around his cheeks. Man, busting out a nice fat one while enjoying a nice strawberry chocolate dip is just the peak. Having your tongue orgasm the same time as your cock, its like ascending on another plane of existence from pure ecstasy alone. A relaxing sigh escapes from between his lips as Wedsle turns the street corner; his peepers prowling around for whatever shenanigans he could get into to shake off his cabin fever.

And its upon laying eyes on a nearby bank that he discovers it in the midst of being robbed by a couple of masked people barging right out the doors with sacks filled with cash; scurrying right into a car parked right at the curb. Turning the key to attempt and start the vehicle, the two robber are swift to find its engine refusing to so much as rumble, much less start with a roar; failing to ignite no matter how much the key is turned. Its when gazing into the reflection of the side view mirror that they discover the purple psychic standing right next to them; their gaze growing cold as he jingles the wires needed to start the engine. Without so much as a warning from him, Wedsle scares the absolute shit out of the two by punching straight through the window; both of the robbers paralyzed with fear as he shatters the glass into pieces. Yet rather than turning his hardened fist against them, the purple psychic instead reaches over to one of the sacks of money and swiftly yoinks it right out from inside the car. A rather startling and unpredictable turn of events which leaves the robbers stunned as Weds waltzes right off with the pilfered bag of cash; blowing the two of them a kiss as the sound of approaching police sirens echoes not far off. That very bag of loot is tossed right on top of a counter top, where the employee on the other side left concerned and perplexed by the generously dubious donation as Wedsle makes his exit; the purple psychic giving a thumbs up as he leaves the animal shelter.

Continuing his ventures through the streets of New York, the violet psychic comes upon a most troubling site: man in a business suit in the midst of being robbed by a few muggers, left with nowhere to run as they corner the guy at the end of an alleyway. Just when they are about to lay a beating down on this guy do they then turn around to discover Weds standing at the open end of the alleyway. Their gazes sharpen as they stare one another down, the hope in their victims eyes sparkling as his violet savior approaches. But upon noting the man’s wallet one of the muggers has and discovering him to be part of the IRS, a small detail of which flips the script for the violet psychic. The suited man’s hopes are thoroughly crushed as his thought to be purple hero join in on his muggers and start to beat him against the wall; two of them holding the their victim by his arms as Wedsle takes gut punch after stomach blow on him. They revel in shaking down this government money spend hog whilst punching him down to a bruised pulp; gleefully chuckling as he high fives the muggers.

Strolling further into the depths of the big apple with a fat stack of cash in hand, the violet urban adventurer ponder of what to do with his ill gotten gains in the eyes of the law; glancing to the shopping district for what he could buy. He puts his little shopping spree on hold however when peering to dead end street to find it filled with rugged homeless people, stricken with neglect and hunger beside a commercial street. Looking down to the fat stack of cash he had recently acquired, tempted to simply give his earnings to those who need it more. But would it be enough, he wonders. Its in pondering this that his attention his baited to a big truck labeled with name of a big food company drives right past to him towards the commercial district, soon compelled to follow after the truck as it heads towards one of the supermarket.

Out in the back of one of the supermarkets, the truck full of canned goods parks near the loading bay before the driver within unbuckles their seat belt. Yet before they can hope out to unload their cargo, the truck driver suddenly feels somebody tap at their shoulder from behind. They turn back and are alarmed to find the purple psychic sitting right beside them in the passengers seat, giving them a sly grin just before pushing the driver right out from the vehicle. Before the former driver could realize what had just happened, the truck they’ve been shoved out of suddenly peels out, streaking across the parking lot before driving right on out of there; the driver left to explain where their stock just up and went.

Back within the dead end street the group of homeless people walk among, their melancholic routine of neglect and despair is shunted aside when a wayward truck streaks right into the neighborhood and crashes straight into a brick wall. Gathering around the wrecked vehicle, the crowd of pour unfortunate souls watch as Wedsle stumbles out from the drivers seat and towards the back; their luck taking drastic turn when the purple psychic opens the cargo to let spill stacks and stacks of canned beans, vegetables, fruit, meats, and other assorted foods for the poor and hungry to feast upon. Their fortunate streak only grows as Wedsle makes it rain green from atop the crashed truck, all of them frantically clutching fist fulls of bills as they flutter down.

With a wave of his hands and a pep in his step, Wedsle hums his way around the urban blocks with a smile on his face; his rough and stressed demeanor having taken a complete 180 since earlier this morning. Man, being a certified menace to society was just what the doctor ordered to take the edge off. The sensation from the healing burns are only mildly irritating now. I’m feeling better already. But there ain’t a chance in hell I can just pack up and go home now, not while the day is still young, and when sunlight is cracking through the city smog. There’s gotta be more hell to raise somewhere in the core of this rotting fruit of a city.

And coming upon the corner does the rage controlling psychic end up spotting something that baits his eyes; the gathering of a large crowd at the gates of a small mansion, swinging around protest signs, chanting slogans and phrases against their adversaries. A typical strike against – and unfair living price. From one of the manors gargantuan windows is the owner of the home visible from the other side; a bitter middle aged man dressed in a polo shirt and dress pants contemptuously looking down upon them all with a glass of wine in hand. Yet despite their outrage, it seems that their strike had lasted for several days at best, evident of the tents, sleeping bags, and coolers. And from the looks of things, it seems that there has been very little progress made since then. No signs of the opposition letting up anytime soon. At least, not without the right push.

Thinking he could shift this little domestic situation into overdrive, and with next to nothing better to do on his day out, Wedsle decides to lend his support to the cause by seamlessly infiltrating their ranks. Blending in among the various protesters in their ongoing struggles; injecting himself in their situation with: “Rent strike, huh? Nice, I can get behind that. Fuck private owned property.” “Yeah, a bunch of us have been asking our landlord to lower rent due to our stagnating wages. But he ain’t hearing any of it, saying that “We ain’t working hard enough.” or “He doesn’t give handouts.”, crap like that.” the ginger haired man leading them all elaborates. “All while he’s snug and warm in his little dollhouse. Bet the little pussy bitch never worked a day in his life.” chastises Weds. “So that’s why we’re out here, making our voices heard. Refusing to cow tow to price hikes in the face of economic decline.” another of them state.

“Nice, how’s that been going?” the purple psychic asks. “Well, he hasn’t even come out to talk to us so far.” “What?” “Yeah uh, everything we’ve tried to negotiate with hasn’t worked.” “Well, what all’ve you been trying?” “We’ve been sending notes, petitions, contacting news sources.” “Have you tried mailing a pipe bomb to him?” Everyone gasps in astonishment upon the suggestion, one of of them wondering aloud: “You’re kidding, right. Does it look like any of us can afford to be in jail?” “You can barely afford to have a home. The hell you got everyone riled up here for if all y’all gonna do is pussy shit. You wanna get a douche bags attention, I’ll show ya how to get it.”

His eyes striding across the concrete beneath their feet, Wedsle sets his sites upon the broken chunk of a concrete block just big enough for somebody to lift; the purple menace reaching down to heave the hard cement brick right off the ground with but a single hand. A brief moment to aim is all he needs before pitching the hard block straight towards one of the manors windows; the chunk of concrete nearly hitting the landlord square in the head, a close call which makes him retreat into the depths of his home. A wave of utter shock surges through the rest of the protesting crowd as they look upon the display of damaged private property; the unexpected act of vandalism prompting the red headed leading them to stare out to the violet psychic and shout: “Are you out of your mind!? Why would you do that!?” “Why not do it? The fucker in their ain’t giving you all the same courtesy you all’ve been handing out, so why try and play nice anymore!? Why not scoop up the heaviest things you see and just pelt his tacky as doll house of a home!? Let’em know none of you are screwing around anymore.”

The violet psychic’s boastful words encourage the rest of the protesters to scoop up whatever bits and pieces of concrete they could reasonably pick up and just start chucking volleys of pebbles and rocks right over the gate to pelt the landlords manor with; some of them finding it a bit difficult heaving up some of the heavier chunks of cement only to end up tripping up. “No! Stop! We said we wouldn’t resort to this!” the ginger pleads. Having stirred the froth of anger and fury bubbling from underneath this striking crowd against such a money hungry vampire, Wedsle can’t help but let a satisfied grin stretch across his face; the justified chaos and disarray a beauty to behold for him.

That same smile swiftly deflates upon the sound of police sirens approaching, with almost everyone ceasing fire when hearing the incoming blares. “Its the cops, run.” one of the strikers screams, prompting the others to scatter akin to a family of badgers scampering from their exposed nest. Quick to arrive among the ongoing disarray, the horde of police officers charging straight in to tackle what ornery protesters they could catch among the chaos; the other strikes left with little choice but to flee against the overwhelming wave of cops threatening to arrest them.

Having fled a few blocks away from the rustling scene, Wedsle hides along the side of an apartment complex while peering back to the front gates of the landlords manor; some of the protester that had failed to escape in time being shoved in the back of police cars. The purple menace planning on skidaddle before any of those cops try to manhandle him in their wagons, he attempts to sneak off on out from the district entirely; reaching down to clutch the red key stashed in his pocket. Think I had enough fun for one day.

Though before he could so much as look for a door to use his key on, a hardened fist comes straight out of left field to slug Weds right in the face; the unexpected strike knocking him flat on his ass. “Ah! Who the fuck-” Peering up does he discover his assaulter to be the ginger haired man that had lead the protest, his enraged glare suggesting that he was none too happy about the stunt the purple punk had just pulled. “Oh, hey. Glad to see you got away, red head. I was just about to head on home to-” “What the hell is wrong with you!?” the striker then exclaim. “What? Is it a little bit too early to party?” “Too early to…You just threw out months of hard work, got some of my good neighbors arrested, and made us look like nothing but a bunch of vandals.” “Easy man, vandalism laws out here in the big apple aren’t that bad. I’m sure they’ll only get, what, like 3 or 6 months?”

“That’s not the point. Do you have any idea how long it took to rally everyone up for this. Countless month of negotiation, bargaining, and promises; right down the god damn drain! You think any of them are gonna risk what little they have left to just end up getting tossed in the slammer?” “Its not like your little petition party was doing anything productive. Least with what we were doing, it was scaring the shit out of the bastard.” claims Wedsle. “At the cost of people’s livelihoods?” “Their livelihoods were already spiraling out of control.” “And that’s why we can’t stoop to breaking the law.” “That’s why you have to break the law!” rebuts the purple psychic, a statement which leaves the ginger man at a loss for word. “Most people who break the rules don’t do it for shits and giggles; they do it cause they’re desperate. Why care about the world around you if the world isn’t willing to do the same? Why cowtow to what sort of arbitrary laws dickheads put in place if it only serves them and them alone. When all you have in life are the clothes on your back and the fragility of your own life, you bet breaking the rules is what people should be doing.”

Before the red headed man could so much as let another word out from the violet psychic’s speech, a voice calling out from behind him baits his attention over; hearing them say his name with: “Harold! Harold!” A peek back behind himself, the man discovers a young boy scuttling over to the two of them, the kid taking a moment to catch his breath as Harold asks: “Kenma! What’s wrong?” “Its my dad, the cops dragged him into their car and drove off. I don’t know what I’m gonna tell mom. What do we do?” desperately pleads the kid. “D…don’t worry, bud. A-as long as we stick together, I’m sure we can sort all this out and get your dad out of the slammer…” Suspending his sentence does the red head peek back to the purple punk, with hints of reluctance clear to see in him as he adds: “Even if we have to do it by any means necessary.” “That’s the spirit!” cheers Wedsle. “And this gentleman behind me is gonna help us.” “What?” “Think its fair to lend a hand after all the needless commotion and chaos you ended up causing, isn’t it?” “Phft! Fine.”

Along the length of a descending a stairwell, Wedsle is lead by the leader of the protesters alongside a small crew of other strikers; the purple punk among then stating aloud: “So your Headquarters is in your apartment complex’s basement.” “Is that a problem?” “Conspicuousness aside, not really.” At the end of the set of steps lies a locked door, of which Harold pulls out a small key to try and unlock; the protesting leader fiddling with the key lock while murmuring: “Come on…Come on…Deh…Turn…turn already…Why won’t this- Got it!” Beyond the doorway do all of them pour into the basement, where upon Wedsle surveys the condition of their homey little hidey hole; finding most of what you would expect in a typical buildings lower floors. Water heater, furnace, old boxes, hard concrete; the only thing different being the chairs surrounding a table with documents and maps, not to mention a cork board with phone numbers and deposit info. “Welcome to HQ, waters are in the fridge right there.” welcomes Harold. “Not the worst basement I’ve been dragged into. Least its clean.”

While the rest of them gather around the table, Wedsle wanders over to the fridge sitting in the corner and fancies a peek inside while going: “Whelp, if I’m gonna be hear for a while, might as well get comfy. Where’s your drinks.” wonders Wedsle. “You mean like alcohol?” “Yeah, wine, liquor, really I ain’t too picky.” “Sorry to break it to ya. There ain’t a drop down here.” one of the protesters claims. “The hell? Not even the cheap shit?” “Does it seem like we can afford to get smashed?” asks Harold. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Ya just need a bit of creativity. Imma check back here and see what else you might have.” the purple punk states, making his way towards the open bathroom.

The moment that the violet psychic was out of earshot, one of the protesters speaks up to their leader over the current situation: “So, not to doubt you or anything, Harold. But why did you see it fit to bring that guys down here with us after you just got done arguing with him?” A hefty sigh seeps out from beneath their leaders breath as he plops his ass down on one of the chairs, admitting to his peers: “Hate to say it, but he was right about something. Everything we’ve been doing so far has done next to nothing to get our landlord to budge. All the legal stuff we’ve tried has either been shut down or ignored entirely. As reckless as that purple punk’s little stunt was, at least it got his attention; so he might be onto something. Even if we feel like we don’t want to.” “Knew there had to be rubbing alcohol in here. Wonder if this shit can be mixed.” they hear Weds shout from the bathroom. Peering back do the protesters watch Wedsle venture from the bathroom with them bottle of rubbing alcohol and back to the fridge; the violet psychic perusing inside for a bit before pulling out a bottle of grape juice, pouring the rubbing alcohol into it. “And I really don’t want to.”

Tasting his freshly made concoction of medical liquid and dollar brand grape juice, Wedsle shutters from but a single sip of of the deep purple cocktail as he finally joins the other strikers, letting out a brief grunt before judging. “Damn, more of a bitter punch than I thought. Kinda like it actually, not to bad for bootleg cocktail. Maybe needs a bit more cough syrup.” Baiting their attention back to him with a faux cough, Harold returns the conversation back to the matter at hand with: “So, new guy. How do you think we should go about convincing our landlord to lower our rent.” “Glad you finally asked. I was thinking something along the lines of-” “Without getting anybody hurt.” the leader interrupts to add. “Well, I think we could-” “Or killed.” “Damn. Really busting my balls here, mate. Still, I think I can work with that. Plenty of ways to gain leverage on somebody without inflicting bodily harm.” “Like?” “Well…”

Within the comforting confines of his manors living room, the landlord leisurely watching on his 90 in, 8K TV while sitting in his ultra plush recliner; a combo which leaves the man entranced in relaxation. Yet he is suddenly broken out from this stupor when hearing something break from right outside, the landlord shaking off his daze as he pulls himself off the chair and venture to the window. Peering out from the window overlooking his backyard does he then discover what caused such a loud ruckus, glaring down to the site of some of the protesters breaking some of his decorations; the statues he had installed reduced to pieces against their blunt weapons. Against this act of vandalism is the man quick to draw out his phone and dial the police, determined to not let these piss ants get away with their crimes; something that the cops are quick to fulfill as they rush into apprehend the perpetrators. Despite their efforts, about half of the rabble rousing protesters manage to escape from the long arm of the law, with Harold leading them all out over the fence.

A steaming hot platter of glazed ham, mashed potatoes, and baked vegetables sitting on the other end of the dinning table, the landlord plops his rear down on the empty chair as he stares down to the delectable spread of dinner laying before him, scoping up the silverware beside it eager to dig right in. Mouthwatering juice seeps out from the ham as he jabs the fork into its side, reflecting the lights above as the piece of meat is guided towards the man’s opening maw. His chance to enjoy the delightful blend of saucy goodness is suddenly put on hold when catching the sounds of a shuffle not too far away; the noise baiting his attention to the door at the end of the dinning room leading into the kitchen. Off from his chair and away from his meal, the landlord cautiously approaches the door to peek out through its window, witnessing on the other side some of the protesters raiding his kitchen; all of them pilfering every ounce of food they could from every shelf and cabinet they could reach. Rather than burst in and attempt to confront so many people on his own, he is again inclined to reach for his phone to call the authorities. The police waste little time in coming to apprehend all of the food looters, the protesters scrambling away from the pursuing police in a frenzy with whatever meals they could carry; Harold leading them all through an escape route among the chaos.

Laying ideally in a fresh drawn bubble bath, the landlord sinks in the frothing mixture of his warm water and rose scented bubbles as both the bathwater and the ambient candle light wash over him in a blend of relaxing euphoria. He is quickly fished out from this blissful experience when the sharp echo of broken glass suddenly perpetrates his ears; the landlord rising out from the frothy waters to step out from the tub and check what was happening out from his bathroom. Peeking out from the crack of his washroom door, he discovers the source of the noise to be from intruders having broken into the confines of his home, attempting to procure his finely bought decorations and furniture. A transgression of which he refuses to let stand as he brings out his phone to alert the local authorities. It takes police little time to storm in and arrest those breaking and entering, with Harold and Wedsle left with little choice but to bail out through the window.

“Okay, so not a single one of those schemes worked. Really thought the third time would be the charm.” the purple psychic reviews. “But that’s alright. We still got uh…” Peering around the basement table, the violet psychic counts how many protesters are left standing among them; pointing out to each one as he silently counts. “5? 5. 5 of us left. Did some of us get caught, sure; but that sure as hell shouldn’t stop us. I was thinking than next we could maybe try-” “You seriously still think we can keep going, after all the people we got tossed in the can?” Harold then interrupts. “Hey, you only need one man to make a difference. Besides how many people got arrested, like 2, 3?” “There were about 18 of us here this morning.” “Oh…well jeez. Still, at least it seems like that pricks taking you seriously now.” “Yeah, and look where it got us. We should’ve just moved.” the leader sighs, parting from the basement table as he heads for the stairs.

“Wait, really? You gonna give up, just like that, after only three tries?” compels Wedsle, following after him. “This isn’t some game, you jackass. These are people’s lives we’re talking about. I don’t know about you, but I can risk the livelihoods of what people are left standing. I can’t sleep at night knowing that people were dragged away from their loved ones in a fruitless effort. I won’t throw what good people I have left trying to tear down an unbreakable wall.” he claims. “Alright alright alright. I see what your bitching about.” the purple punk claims, quick to stand between the leader and the bottom of the steps. “So let me at least offer you a proposition before you throw in the towel.” “Come on, man.I already told you that I ain’t-” Harold starts to reject.

“No no. See, that’s the beauty of it. You and the rest of your crew won’t have to even lift a finger. Just let me and a couple of friends I got take it from here.” “You’re kidding, right? You seriously expect me to put my faith after all your little plans have been leading me and rest of us down here in nothing but trouble?” “Fine, if your that apprehensive, then maybe you can come with the plan. Whatever stitched together brainchild you birth out of the labia folds of your mind, we’ll follow every step. That good for you.” Upon being asked of this does the protesting leader peer back to the table behind him to see who all he had left, unfortunately finding nothing but elderly, some kids, and one scraggly fellow sitting in the corner; a poor spread which makes the guy let out a begrudging moan and admit: “Okay, fine. I had this one idea on the back burner for a bit.” “That’s the spirit.”

After such a long and rough day dealing with so many incidents behind its walls, the evening sun finally sets upon the landlords abode as the last of the twilight gives away to the city night life; the man of the house stumbling his way into the bedroom as he disrobes. Approaching his deluxe sized memory foam mattress in nothing but his underpants, he lets out a comforting moan while slipping underneath the silky smooth sheets, laying blissfully as if he were on top of a serene cloud. This peaceful landlord is but moments away from slipping out from the bustling realm of consciousness, when a sudden loud clank from outside drags him out from comfort; the man of the house compelled to take his phone with him as he investigates. From outside his bedroom doorway, the landlord peers through the depths of his dark hallway in judging where the unexpected crash had came from; when in the corner of his eye, he spots the glimpse of a shadow snaking around the corner. Despite not knowing what may have broken into his abode in the dead of night, the landlord still has a pretty good idea who they may be and is quick to dial the police; all the while carefully prowling where the shadow slithered.

Out from the hallway and into the dinning room, the landlord cautiously walks beside the length of the table as he scans the room; the streetlights outside glistening through the window to provide ample luminescence. “I know you vandals are in here.” the landlord claims, his raspy voice echoing across the near empty room. “I’ve already called the police. They’re on their way. And just for good measure, I’m having them stop by the apartments to flush the rest of you out. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

Upon this threatening remark is he suddenly spooked by the site of a small quarter rolling across the dinning room floor; his eyes following the small coin as it makes its way over towards the fireplace, nicking against the base of its stone structure. And despite only inflicting the smallest of taps upon the bottom of the fireplace, from the small fracture it left behind do the cracks rapidly grow and grow, stretching across the stone brick until the length of its neck begins to crumble to pieces. Whole chunks of the fireplace collapse and crash onto the dinning room table and chairs, reducing eloquently carved wood to nothing but broken splinters in the blink of an eye. This terrible accident happening just a few feet before him, the old landlord scampers across the mess to run out of the ruined dinning room; his panicked screams echoing down the hallway he hurries down.

From the depths of the hallway does the landlord hovel his way into the study, peering throughout for any signs of disturbances or break ins that may have accord; the streetlights from outside shining through the windows in providing slices of illumination. Glistening against the light from the other side of the living room sat a double barrel shot gun with an elaborately carved wooden butt mantled on the wall; the landlord quick to scurry over to the weapon to arm himself, with his aim wandering around while he hollowly threatens: “Don’t think I don’t know how to use this! I’m within my full American right to defend myself, if have to!”

His aim trailing off to one of the windows, the landlord aims the barrels of his weapon over to one of the curtains when noticing a pair of shoes exposed along the bottom; the shoes slithering up the wall as soon as they’re spotted. Quick to pull the trigger does the landlord unleash an entire blast of pellets that rends the curtains apart, with the harsh recoil nearly knocking him down to the floor. When he recovers from his shotguns blow back, he glances over to the curtains to find its silk surface crumbling away. The man can only back away in growing terror however, when finding nothing hiding behind the ruined curtains. His first instinct being to retreat behind the recliner in hopes of hiding from whoever, or whatever, may be haunting his abode; the landlord peeking from the top to survey where this enigmatic intruder may appear next.

What he fails to predict however is feeling something clutch at his ankle; the unexpected grasp making him fall flat on his ass, in which he discovers a hand from underneath the seat tightly holding onto his foot. Having already spent the slugs of his shotgun, the landlord resorts to turning the weapon around to try and beat the hand off with the butt in a desperate bid to escape; the disembodied hand lets go to instead grasp at the handle of the weapon. Try as the man may to retrieve his weapon from the mysterious intruder, the gun slips out from the landlord grasp before he ends up tumbling back to the wall behind him. As he shakes off his brief bump, he can only watch as the hand he struggled fighting back slip back into the depths of the chair, dragging his precious firearm underneath with it. He races back to the seat to reach down and flip it upside down, only to find practically nobody hiding underneath; no arm, no hand, no gun, nothing.

The landlords breath grows ever more shallow and ragged among these escalating occurrences, making him simply back away from the flipped furniture as he frantically looks through the study for whatever may happen next. His tingling terror only gets worse when he suddenly feels somebody behind him tap at his shoulder; the man quickly peeking back only to see not a soul standing behind him. Just as he ponder what could have baited his attention, the landlord suddenly feels something tickle the top of his head; the guy jolting his eyes back to discover nothing fluttering above. The landlord begins to tremble around the room as these rapidly occurring incidents leave him more and more paranoid. Its among his worsening fright that he witness a pair of arms slither out from under his own sleeves, reaching out from within his shirt to then grasp as his neck; the landlord struggling to pry the pair of arms off as they begin to strangle him. Its in frantic desperation that he tears off his pajama shirt in an attempt to pry the arms choking him away, the limbs letting go as he takes off his tee and tosses it down onto the floor. Once discarding his comforting shirt, the landlord lets out a yelping squeal as he makes a mad dash towards the way out of the study; a person emerges out from underneath the inside of the article of clothing to watch them flee.

The landlords frantic scurrying trails him back into the confines of his manors living room; the shadows that encompass the room broken apart by the streetlights flooding in, reflecting off the onyx black screen of his gargantuan TV. Yet these snippets of illumination fail to ease his dread as he wanders through, rapidly peering across every corner of the room for any other frightening figures that invade his home. Its among his scared trance that the landlord witnesses somebody prowling through where he came, this intruder donning a thick, purple hood, black leather gloves, and the mask of a demon, one whose eyes stare upon him with their deathly radiant violet glow. The man recoil at the mere site of the monster’s visage, retreating back as the invader lumbers inside; his back side bumping into the shelf of decorative swords behind him. Quick to pry open the glass case containing one of these weapons, the landlord brandishes the blade directly towards the approaching intruder, warning to them: “Stay back! I’m warning you!” The demonic masked man is unfazed however by this threat as they continue to prowl closer and closer, clearly showing that they refused to be frightened by the edges of the landlords weapon.

Seeing the intruder take one more step too many, the landlord is prompted to take a daring charge against them with sword in hand, wildly swinging out to the invader with no regard to aim. Effortlessly evading simply one of these wayward slashes, the purple invader drives his knee directly into the man’s stomach; a blow which makes him loose his grasp upon the decorative blade he wields. Snatching up the sword right out from the landlords grasp, the masked intruder grabs him by the arm before tossing him against the wall; the man grunting from the impact before falling back down to the floor. A glance back to the violet invader, he watches them take the weapon he had confiscated from his grasp with both hand to bend the steel of the blade; the sword cracking up enough to snap right in half, nothing left but a broken hilt the intruder discards.

“You think you can just get away with this Harold, breaking into my home to terrorize me? The police are already on their way, they’ll be here any second now. And when they get here, I’ll make sure you and the rest of you ungrateful hooligans rot in prison for the rest of your days.” the man threatens. Out from the brash threat does the living room’s Television suddenly springs to life, letting the screen’s vivid light banish the darkness crawling through the quarters. What that very screen presents to the landlord is something that utterly baffles him. On the TV rolled a live feed of his apartment complex which the tenants had dwell, revealing the protesters that had accosted him being awoken by officers in the middle of the night; each one that hadn’t been tossed in the can talking with them from the front of their own apartment doors. The landlords perplexed terror only skyrockets when he finds the man he accused the intruder of being among one of these shown to him on the stream; Harold dressed in casual pajama bottoms discussing with the police from the foot of his own bed.

The realization of the intruder he’s face not being one of his agitating tenants begins to sink in as his bravado crumbles away, the landlord finally giving in to the lingering helpless terror that spread through him like a descending chill. That dreads only grows as the demonic masked intruder continues to approach, their rising shadow looming over the man as they lumber closer with the tip of the broken blade in their hand. “P-P-P-please, don’t come any closer.” he begins to plead, the looming frighten finally beginning to set in. “If, y-you’re with the protesters, just tell them th-they win, okay. I’ll lower their rents from now on, just don’t hurt me!” His pleads yet fall on deaf ears as the masked figure only grows closer and closer; the violet glow shining out from underneath their mask reflects off the landlords pupils, with those peepers shrinking as the intruder aims the broken tip of the decorative sword towards his head. “Al-alright fine. I’ll drop the charges so that the rest of the tenants can go free! Just stay back!” Seeming to ignore the plea for mercy, the masked invader thrusts the tip of the broken off blade right towards him, the landlord closing his eyes in preparing to be impaled. Hearing a harsh stabbing sound right beside him, the landlord opens his eyes as he peeks over to find the tip of the weapon having been jammed right into the wall just by his head. The man then looks ahead to realize the masked intruder accosting him having disappeared, vanishing without so much as a single trace left behind; the landlord left bawling in the corner from all he had been through that very night.

From the other side of a bright red doorway, the figure in the demonic mask enter through with two others at his side; the invader clutching at his mask to pull right off his head as they enter into the psychic safe house. “Whew…Damn, didn’t think a mask would make me so sweaty.” Wedsle claims, taking off the mask. “Still, didn’t expect it to feel so…natural. Like putting on another face that feels right. Maybe I’ll wear it next time I’m at a strip club and see who’s interested.” Behind him follow both Frida and Thursotte, the wall merging inspecting the elaborately carved shotgun she had pilfered from the landlord as she lists off its features: “Smooth trigger, nice and sleek carved finish for the butt, finely polished 416 stainless steel…Holy shit, the intricacy of how the twisted barrels shaped. You are too good to just leave up on a wall. I’ll give this bad boy a good home.”

“So, you just decide on a whim to participate in a protest for an apartment complex for somewhere you don’t even live, for strangers you barely even know…for fun?” reviews Thurs. “Hey, had to kill the boredom somehow. And what better way to massacre the time than taking part in a socioeconomic uprising. Teach that old bastard to raise rent on the poor.” “You think we might have gone a bit overboard with scaring him though?” “If we scared the shit out of him good enough, he’ll remember this night for what few decades left on this Earth he has. Beside, most landlord are just leeches.” “Letting people live in places you own for a price isn’t as unfair as you think.” July then intrudes. “I mean, I let all of you live here rent free. I technically am a landlord.” “Yeah, but you guys don’t build the houses, you just buy them up and make people pay you to live there.” rebuts Wedsle. “I literally made the room we are standing in with my mind!” “And we all appreciate your contribution to the cause.” the violet psychic thanks, waltzing right through the door leading into the kitchen.

“Okay, but why? Why go through all that trouble for people you barely knew?” “Because, Thursotte. I like to think I am a man of the little people. Somebody willing to humbly aid those which this world rails in the ass with a 7 inch barbed pole. Isn’t that why people start shit in the first place?” boasts Wedsle. “…You wanted an excuse to get out of talking to Sat, didn’t you?” July then accuses. “What!? Of all the insensitive nerves. How could the two of you think so little of me as to…” Despite his feign attempts to protest this accusation, it was clear to the violet psychic that neither of them were buying his whole faux noble spiel, forcing Wedsle to drop the act to instead questions: “Wh-what the hell am I even supposed to say to her? “Hey, Sat. Sorry about faking your girlfriends gruesome death and lying about it behind your back for months now. Hope you’re not mad enough to wanna psychically castrate my testicles and sow them to my mouth.” Doubt she’s gonna take all that with a slap to the wrist and a kiss on the dick.” “Wedsle, I’ve known you for years. You have done way worse.” July then points out. “Maybe to some poor soul in the back of a dark midnight ally, but not to one of my mates. Again, what do you want from me?” “Just tell her the truth. I’m sure she’ll understand when you explain why you had to take so many measures.” suggests Thursotte. “Probably…or we could probably bury it and hopeful never have to unpack all those shitty talking prompts for say…until I die.” the purple punk then proposes, a suggestion that has both July and Thurs’ eyes rolling.

“Now, the hell are we eating tonight. If we’re eating out, I know the perfect place we can-” Cutting himself short, he finds something that he had been dreading to face for a little while, somebody that he didn’t want to see, but knew that it was an inevitability. Sitting atop the counter before him be the lively psychic alone in the kitchen, hopping off onto the floor to approach him. “Oh, Hey Sat.” the purple punk nervously greets. “Wedsle, we need to talk.” she claims. “Okay, okay…but I just remembered that I left something back in the other room. Lemme go get it real quick.” Yet faster than he could even blink does the door behind him slams shut, the violet psychic soon finding it locked tight from the other side. Oh, those dickheads.

A glance back over, the violet psychic is astonished to find Satette standing directly in front of him, fixing an accusatory glare against him that wordlessly demands some form of explanation; bits of anxious sweat run down his forehead as he is forced to stare down to here. Easy, Weds. You can get through this, just act natural. “Uh…So…You and Janna settling in alright? Done anything…kinky…or what?” he blathers out. Not that natural, you fucking man whore.

“Why did…” the lively psychic begins to utters. “Why…?” “Why didn’t you tell me…about Janna? How all this time, I felt all alone thinking she was…gone?” Being questioned of this baits out a disheartening sigh from the purple punk, prompting to shake off his initial weariness to explain: “Sat, you know why I had to fake her death, right? Considering how much were against the city’s superpowered criminal syndicate, it was the best I could think of.” “No…I mean, I get why you had to…I’m saying out of all the people to keep it from, why me? Don’t you think out of everyone, I deserved to know?…That all my actions didn’t get my girlfriend murdered? You watched me spiral into a wreck knowing the whole time she was alive. Was it just…funny to you!? Cause I sure as hell ain’t laughing!” “That’s not it!” he then harshly retorts, a response which makes Satette step back.

After a moment to calm himself down, Wedsle then calmly continues with: “Believe me, woman. It ate me up watching you sink like that. Hell, I was even thinking about letting the cat out of the bag early sometimes so it don’t suffocate and die. But if I did, you’d obviously wanna see her. So much in fact, that I was paranoid you would sneak out going to look for her, even if it was by your damn lonesome. And god knows the mob wouldn’t waste a second taking that silver platter.” “So what. You think I couldn’t take care of myself?” “I was thinking Janna couldn’t.” Weds then claps back with, something which leaves the lively psychic stunned.

“I ain’t saying you’re a bitch. I’m saying that the mob would’ve figure out who you were looking for sooner or later and would’ve found her before you did. I didn’t wanna risk that. I couldn’t risk that. All that planning after the whole stunt would’ve been burned up to hell and back. And hey, given how Janna got out of this pretty much unscathed, I’d say that gamble was worth it. You got your fuck buddy back, and we got somebody helping us decrypt December’s files. Everybody wins, right?” he reviews, a statement which leaves Sat mildly despondent and upset. “Look, it was shitty of me keeping this, I ain’t fightin that. And really, I’d have told you sooner if I could, believe me. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Seeing his justification for hiding Satette’s girlfriend from her for so long doing little to satisfy her, Wedsle takes in a deep breath before proposing: “Tell ya what. How bout I let you get one off me, no string attached.” “Excuse me?” Sat is quick to reply. “Slug one out on me. Blow off some steam and gimme a taste of the pain you’ve been feeling. I mean it. I wound up hurting you, so I think I should let you maim me. Feels like its the best way we could be even.” “Wedsle.” “Come on. You know me, I can take it. Ain’t gonna let some slight burns and a busted ribs keep me down. Take the biggest swing you got, I swear to ya I won’t get-”

In the matter of an instant does the violet psychic suddenly feels an overwhelming sharp pain in between his legs, with Satette having driven her foot deep into Wedsle testicles; the unexpected blow crumbling the purple punk to his knees as he grabs his crotch. It genuinely takes Wedsle a couple seconds to feel through the crotch shot as the stinging sensation makes him tremble, having to have a few moments to breathe. Among processing the horrible sting inflicted upon him, he peers up to gaze upon the lively psychic looking down at him, obliged to grunt out to ask: “We good?” Leaning down to the kneeling purple punk, Satette plants a soft smack on the cheek as her soft touch relieving a fraction of Weds’ anguish; the lively psychic declaring: “We good. You want spaghetti and meatballs for dinner?” “Sure, just let mine drop back down first. Ooh…Holy shit.”

#lillaxtrigger #original writing

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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years ago

Text

jealous

Word Count: 3,130

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some insecurity angst (only a little though) but all fluff otherwise!

A/N: thank you for the help and love you two give me @satan-ruler-of-hells @thisnoodlewritesao3. Was having a shitty day so I queued this fic up to hopefully bring some smiles to people’s faces <3

Haikyuu Masterlist

Ushijima would never understand why people flocked to him the way they did during tournaments. No matter where the team went, there were people begging for answers to their invasive questions, people screaming in excitement as soon as they saw them, but why?

“You’re a big strong attractive dude, Ushi, I dunno what to tell ya. Not to mention, you’re the ace of a powerhouse school,” Tendō laughed when Ushijima asked him why. But it wasn’t like any of these girls knew him so why were they always asking for pictures?

But despite not really understanding, Ushijima often complied with the request for photos, standing there as stoic as ever, not even bothering to crack a smile. He didn’t want to make anyone upset and he felt like just going along with it might actually be easier than trying to run away.

But today, Tendō watched as one girl got prepared for a selfie, and surprised Ushijima with a kiss on the cheek for the photo. She squealed in excitement, thanking him even as she ran away. The two Shiratorizawa boys stood there in confusion, Tendō’s eyes looking around to make sure you weren’t around to experience that.

Ushijima stood there for a moment longer, his hand going up to his cheek and touching the place she had kissed him. Had that really just happened? How odd. Why would someone he had never even met before do something like that?

The thought left his mind as soon as it had entered, turning around to follow Tendō onto the court. But he noticed how his friend’s eyes seemed to glance around the hallway, as if looking for someone, then fall on him questioningly.

“What is it?” Ushijima asked, watching his friend’s eyes carefully.

Tendō just laughed and shook his head, “I’m just glad poor Y/N didn’t have to watch that. Can’t say I’d envy her.”

Ushijima’s brow tensed a little hearing those words, trying to comprehend Tendō’s words and tone, “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you’re constantly followed around by girls and you must see some of them all the time at every one of our tournaments. But you and Y/N haven’t had a lot of time to see each other now that practice is every day right? Plus... what girl wants to see her boyfriend get kissed by some random fangirl?” Tendō explained, holding his hands behind his head as they walked into the stadium courts.

Ushijima frowned a bit, still not fully comprehending. You knew that he was busy with volleyball and you knew he loved you, didn’t you? So why did it matter what some insignificant people thought? Or what some random person did for that matter? Sure, it was an uncomfortable kiss and was awkward but would it matter? He didn’t even know the girl.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the girl had posted the pic onto social media. Swarms of jealous students and gossip news reporters started to share the picture and repost it with the question “Is this Ushijima’s girlfriend?”

It didn’t take long for you to be tagged. One of your friend had sent the photo with a questioning keyboard smash, wondering if you had known.

You hadn’t.

You had been up in the stands when it all took place - you didn’t see Ushijima often before a game since he was usually stretching while you got there early to get good seats. You had been sitting up in the stands, talking to another friend of yours and some of the other players’ friends and family. But when you saw the picture, it was like everything around you started to move in slow motion.

Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat, your chest tightening. Who was this girl? Your fingers instantly clicked onto her profile, glancing at all of her public photos. She was gorgeous, thin, smart by the looks of it too. She even had a picture or her playing volleyball.

Something inside of you asked the question, “Would Ushijima be better off with someone like her?”

He wasn’t following her on social media, so he didn’t know who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to post their photos with Ushijima, but no fans had ever been so bold to kiss him for a picture before.

You couldn’t even remember the rest of the game. Your stomach was churning so much you thought you were going to be sick.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your friend asked when they realized you hadn’t cheered as loud as you normally did during the games. You quickly plastered on a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’ve got to head out early! Tell the boys I said congratulations!” You asked them as the game came to an end, your feet quickly moving out of the stadium before the crowds left.

Ushijima could’ve sworn you had been up in the stands and you always came to his games. So where were you? Why hadn’t you come down yet? He stood in the hallway, watching as crowds of people left. Loads of them congratulated him or tried to strike up a conversation with him. But not a single one of them was you.

“Oh Ushijima! Y/N asked me to say congratulations!” Someone smiled up at him giving a thumbs up. He recognized them, they were friends with you weren’t they? So you had been here...

Ushijima’s forehead creased ever so slightly, “Where is she?”

“She said she had to go for some reason! She didn’t look so good when she left to be honest. Maybe she was feeling sick?” Your friend shrugged and gave another wave before rushing off.

Ushijima glanced at his phone, finding no notifications from you. If you had been feeling sick, why wouldn’t you tell him?

“You alright there, Ushi?” Tendō called, slapping his shoulder playfully. “We won, it’s time to go! What’re you standing around for?” His head spun around, looking for the missing part of their trio. “Where’s Y/N? It’s almost time for our celebratory dinner!”

“She left,” was all he said with a frown.

Tendō sucked in some air nervously, glancing at his own phone and all the notifications he had gotten over the recent scandal photo. “Think it might have to do with this?” He asked, showing the post to his friend. “Didn’t you get tagged in it too? Seems like the whole team was.”

“I don’t have notifications for those apps,” Ushijima shrugged. “I get tagged in a lot of things and it gets annoying.”

Tendō pouted at this, realizing that’s why Ushijima never responded to the hilarious things he would send him.

Ushijima was still frowning, wondering why everyone seemed so concerned with his dating life. He scrolled through the notifications that Tendō had on his phone, news reporters questioning Ushijima’s relationship status, people from their school mentioning Y/N and curiously wondering if they had broken up.

All of this over some random girl? He glanced at her post a little closer, noting the caption read, “Ushi” with a little heart emoji next to it. He hadn’t been happy at all that some girl had decided to plant a kiss on his cheek but he never had the chance to tell her that before she ran off.

“Why would Y/N leave over that?” Ushijima finally spoke, glancing again at his own phone to see if maybe you had texted him in the last few minutes.

Tendō sighed and raised an eyebrow to him, “Ushijima, some people get jealous.”

Jealous. The word echoed in Ushijima’s mind as he tried to consider the possibility that you were jealous over someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if you saw someone posting a similar photo of Y/N?” Tendō asked with a tilt to his head, curiously watching his friend’s expression.

Ushijima let the thought cross over his mind while the two of them walked to where the rest of the team had gathered. What if some dude had posted a picture of Y/N, kissed her cheek, and everyone had assumed they were together? He frowned and shook his head of the awful thought, now understanding that maybe jealousy was that pit in his stomach he was currently experiencing.

Although Coach Washijo growled a little in response, Ushijima insisted that he would not be joining the team for a celebratory dinner. When Goshiki asked Tendō where Ushijima was going, he’d just shrug and smile saying, “He’s off to be a good boyfriend.”

It must’ve been strange, seeing this tall man running around town, looking confused and frustrated. Numerous people around him glanced back at him, watching him with questioning eyes as he passed but Ushijima didn’t even noticed. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

You weren’t really sure why you left so quickly after the game was over. You knew the longer you waited to have this conversation with Ushijima, the more awkward you’d feel and the more upset that he’d be that you hadn’t brought it up sooner.

It’s not like you were mad at him or anything - how could you be? It wasn’t like he was the one kissing her, or that he had known she was going to do that - you knew it wasn’t the latter since Ushijima wasn’t all that big on PDA anyways so there was no way he’d be okay with it with some random girl... you hoped at least.

So if you weren’t mad, why did you run? You frowned as you tried to think of a good excuse, trying to tear apart the reasons for your behaviour. But all you could really think of is how insecure you had felt, seeing that picture. That girl was everything and you were... well what even were you?

Ushijima didn’t know how to beat around the bush - he didn’t know anything but being blunt and honest. So he had to be with you for a reason right? If he wanted to break up with you, he would’ve... right?

You groaned quietly, stuffing your face into the pillow you were holding into your lap. You needed to text him - he was probably wondering why you didn’t stay till after the game. But he hadn’t even texted you... hadn’t called... maybe he hadn’t noticed? You glanced at your phone one more time, as if waiting to see a notification you had missed or a text that you hadn’t heard the alert for.

Maybe you should just call him. Maybe if he hadn’t noticed, you both could just go out for food or have a nice night in and you could forget you ever saw that photo. You nodded slightly at your plan, moving your finger to call him.

But a knock on your door distracted you. You looked up at the sound, glancing between that and your phone.

You dragged yourself out of bed, starting to type out a very nonchalant casual text to Ushijima as you made your way downstairs. Though it was very obvious once you opened the door that the text wasn’t needed.

“Y/N.”

What was it about the way he said your name that sent chills down your spine?

You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing that all that time spent coming up with excuses was useless because here he was right in front of you, panting slightly, and you were drawing a blank.

“H-Hi, Ushijima,” you hesitated slightly, both standing there awkwardly until he nodded towards the inside of your house.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, his voice more gentle than usual even with his heavy breathing.

You nodded slowly and let him in, watching as he tucked his shoes away and stood in front of you as if waiting for you to say something.

“So... congratulations on your win,” you offered after moments of silence.

His eyes just watched you, as if checking to make sure you were okay, “Your friend said you had to leave. They also mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Is that why you didn’t stay?”

You stuttered out some sort of syllables that were no where near to being words as your boyfriend placed his hand on your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his other hand, “You don’t feel feverish but you are a bit warm,” he stated quietly. “Would you like me to make you some soup?”

You shook your head quickly, stepping back from him slightly, “I’m okay, Ushijima, promise. My... stomach just didn’t feel right.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched you, “Your stomach?”

You nodded, staring at your feet. You should just be honest, shouldn’t you? Ushijima was always honest with you. But what if you were honest and he came to the same realization - that he could do better than you?

“So this has nothing to do with that Instagram post?” Ushijima’s voice was stiffer this time around, almost... awkward? He shifted on his feet, trying to get you to look at him but when you wouldn’t, he just gently put his fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. “Please talk to me, darling.”

It was as if you had been hiding tears this whole time and didn’t even realize it. But the softness in his voice and his eyes, the way he touched you, just made your eyes start to tear up, “It’s stupid,” you admitted after a moment and Ushijima’s thumb wiped away a tear that escaped you. “I know you don’t even know her.”

He nodded in response, stepping a bit closer to you now, “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he told you, confirming what you had already assumed. “But I’m sorry.”

You gave a little laughing, shaking your head, “Ushijima, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you take pictures with your fans sometimes.”

“No, I’m sorry because I didn’t understand why you would be upset at it at first. But Tendō helped me understand. Please don’t go taking photos like that with other men,” Ushijima asked you and made you laugh again. “I... I wouldn’t like it.” He admitted shyly, his lips turning to a small smile as he watched you laugh.

“She’s rather pretty though,” you mumbled softly, finally wiping the rest of your tears that were building in your eyes. “I just... You two look really good together.”

Ushijima seemed to think about this, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling as he considered your words, “She’s not ugly.” He stated simply, finally looking back down at you. “But I have no feelings towards her.”

“Feelings can be developed,” you suggested, hating every word that was coming from your mouth. Why were you arguing for him to leave you? Why were you trying to convince him?

Ushijima gave a chuckle this time, patting your head softly, “Why would I want to develop feelings for anyone else when I have so many feelings for you? You have nothing to be jealous over, love.”

Ushijima always said things with such honesty and you knew he would never say anything he didn’t mean... but didn’t he know there were girls out there much better than you?

“You are the one I want to be with. Not anyone else. All those girls I see at my games all look the same. But when I look at you,” Ushijima let his thumb graze over your lips gently, a small smirk on his lips, “I have to remind myself to stop looking at you. I have to tell myself that I’m staring. Before we started dating, Tendō told me you might think I was creepy because I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

You giggled, trying to not focus on the tingles this man’s finger left on your lips, “Oh ya?”

Ushijima just nodded firmly and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. I couldn’t care less about anyone else. Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - you knew you did but how long would it be before he realized just how incredible he was?

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to shove down all of your anxieties.

He watched you and even though you were saying yes, there was something about the way you were standing that didn’t match with your words. Ushijima wasn’t the best at understanding people, but he knew you. “Everyone of those fans would stop coming up to me if I wasn’t as good at volleyball. One day, when I can’t play as well anymore, or if I ever get injured, all those fans will disappear. But the only one I’d still want with me is you. That’s how I know I love you.”

And even if it was just for a moment, all your anxieties stopped. You smiled to yourself and threw your arms around him into a tight hug. Ushijima’s massive arms wrapped around you as he pressed more kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Next time, please talk to me honestly,” he whispered to you.

You nodded into his shoulder, closing your eyes tightly and murmuring back, “I love you too.”

The two of you would end up in your room, curled up with some show playing in the background before you’d sit up in realization, blinking at him in surprise, “Hang on, didn’t the team go for your celebration dinner?”

Ushijima shrugged and nodded, glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen, “Yeah they should be done soon. I imagine Tendō will text me to make sure you’re okay after.”

Your forehead creased in worry, staring at him, “Did... Did they drop you off on the way or something?”

Ushijima’s eyes shared your level of confusion, tilting his head as he tried to think about your question, “Why would they?”

“Ushijima, how the hell did you get here?” You asked with wide eyes, remembering how out of breath he was and wanting to hear the words from his lips.

“I ran,” he stated simply as if it was such a casual thing to do. “Is that important to know?”

“Babe, your tournament was across the city,” you gaped, mouth open slightly as your eyes widened even further. “That must’ve been such a long run, especially after a game!”

Ushijima thought for a moment, thinking about how the team had to take a bus to the games today, and how Y/N had to take transit. His mind tried to calculate the distance, though it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer. He just shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he settled back into your bed, “I could’ve gone farther,” was all he said as he pulled you in for some more cuddles, “as long as it was for you.”

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @wolfishwriting @livy384

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x y/n #hq ushijima #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x you #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea.

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job.

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside.

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in.

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless.

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief.

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself.

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically.

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit.

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was.

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot.

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening.

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred.

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit.

“I can’t believe you,” you said.

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought.

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it.

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum.

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?”

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms.

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked.

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you.

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled.

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?”

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment.

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment.

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room.

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced.

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly.

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out.

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit."

"James," you whispered.

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt.

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front.

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you.

Bucky fell in love.

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material.

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him.

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly.

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly.

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right.

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon.

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening.

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal.

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled.

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times.

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled.

“Bucky,” you whined.

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky.

“I got you, darling. I got you.”

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours.

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew.

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy.

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted.

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned.

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled.

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly.

You like being choked by Bucky.

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips.

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again.

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled.

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum.

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body.

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room.

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away.

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast.

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him.

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever.

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms.

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled.

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him.

=======================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

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#marvel smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes smut #marvel fics #bucky x y/n

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mid-weast · 4 years ago

Text

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

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totebagchiqbarista · 4 years ago

Note

can we have a chat noir x reader x ladybug where chat and lady are constantly trying to out due in battles each other for the reader’s attention, even in school with adrian and marionette

a loving feeling

Pairing: Adrien/Chat Noir, Marinette/Ladybug x GenderNeutral!Reader

Here's the first request I got! I literally love this idea so much oh my god. I hope you like it :)

“Adrien, dude, go talk to them. Now’s your chance!“ said Nino, reassuringly patting his best friend on the back. Adrien’s palms sweat just because of the thought of talking to them. It had been so long since he felt anything other than platonic love for somebody and was losing his mind. Adrien knew he wasn’t the only one who saw Y/N as potentially someone who was to be more than a friend. How could he be?

“Go! Now!“ Nino pushed him closer to the infatuating dream of his best friend. Disappearing in a split second he rebounded with his girlfriend.

Adrien made a few steps. It has seemed the person of his dreams was way too far away from him. Fear grew with each step and his heart was now beating in his throat, unable to catch a breath. Yes! They are so close! He can see them, just a bit more. He is already there, just hanging by the tip of a finger... And suddenly he was in a broom closet.

“Oh, Plagg I chickened out again“ Adrien cried, clenching his fists against the wall. The kwami flew around his head in an attempt to catch his gaze.

“Honestly Adrien, you could only talk to them when you were Cat Noir. But when you’re...well you, you lose your mind!“ he spoke “You see, cheese doesn’t do that to a person“

“You’re a kwami“

“My point still stands.“

Adrien banged his hair against the wall. It’s true, he could always talk to them when he was dressed in black. “I'm going to talk to them, today!”

“You go to the same class, you talk to them every day “ Plagg rolled his eyes, getting tired of the same old story his owner has been playing over and over

The blonde boy shook his head trying to talk to Plagg on a serious note “You know what I mean”

Upon entering the class, Marinette stumbled over her thoughts. She had decided she will talk to them today. She had no idea how, but she had put her mind to it. She is doing this.

"Hi, Marinette," said Y/N when they saw the bluenette deep in her thought.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had to process what is happening before she could open her mouth.

"O-oh, hi, Y/N. Are you how? I mean, how you are?" she felt embarrassed by the inability to speak as she tried to collect herself "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do you want to sit next to me today? Nino and Alya sat together." they questioned, pointing to the couple in love, sat in the second row.

Marinette's face lit up in joy as she shook her head in approval "Yeah, I will". The two sat down in the first row, waiting for the class to start.

"So, Y/N, tell me, um do you- want to-" Blue-haired girl started as the duo collected their bags and headed towards the door. Y/N watched the girl carefully until she was interrupted by a loud cheer behind them.

They turned around, meeting eyes with a pair of green ones that lit under the blonde hair. "Hi, Adrien!" they waved in response.

Marinette's face reddened. It wasn't just because of the Adrien himself who too, made her blush a little. But it was because he could not have found the worse time to come by...

Her fingers twitched as she watched him smile sweetly and sly to the person she was just about to ask out. He had a kind, heart-warming smile on his face, and he was talking so softly to them. His fingers twirled in his blonde hair as he...

Marinette's face widened at the realization. The guy was stealing her date!

"Actually, we were talking you can come back by later" she interrupted blushing Adrien, taking Y/N's hand in hers and walking off. Without thinking, Adrien reached out, grabbing Y/N's hand. His fingers wrapped around their wrist. "Why can't I join you?" he blurted.

"Of course you can!" Y/N exclaimed

"No, you can't. Don't you have a fencing class to attend to?" Marinette fought back, crossing her hands on her chest.

"It got postponed"

"It never does"

"But today it has so I have an hour of free time"

Y/N watched as the two held a strong eye contact filled with rage and jealousy. Their bodies came closer and closer as they fought back and forth for their attention.

Suddenly, the door of the school burst open, shrieks fulfilling the building. A woman dressed in black entered, her ripped dress falling to the floor. Silver hair of hers flowed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the machine in her hand. Two rat ears grew on the tip of her head and a tail that followed the theme.

She walked around, shooting every random passenger and turning them into...rats?

"We have to hide!" Y/N exclaimed as they took both of their hands, leading them into a classroom.

Marinette stuttered, ripping their hands apart even though that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I forgot my bag in the other classroom, I have to get that, it's important, you guys go hide now!"

Y/N nodded, running again, leaving Adrien to follow along. "Locker rooms! We can hide there" he said, grabbing them by the hand and running to the secure place in school.

"Chloe! Where are you Chloe!" the rat lady yelled, leading her way through the corridors of the Françoise Dupont High School. "Hide here," he said, showing them a safe place in one of the lockers.

"You too." They said pointing to the one across. Adrien only nodded in response and faking it once they were completely safe. The blonde's legs carried him to the bathroom by the speed of light.

Closing the door he took a moment to take a deep breath and rest his back against the wall. His kwami reappeared in front of his face, waiting for a word. Something. Anything.

"Don't you have a significant other to save, Adrien?"

Adrien got himself on his feet, away from the daydreams. Plagg was right, he did everything better when he was Chat Noir, so saving them should be as easy too. Maybe then he can finally talk to them without interruptions or his own fears.

The blonde nodded. "Plagg claws out!"

Although they knew they could be in danger, Y/N couldn't take being locked up in a locker anymore. She stepped out, only to be met by Adrian's open locker. The rat lady must have got to him.

"Stupid" they hummed to themselves as they looked around, figuring out what to do.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room opened and the infamous black cat costume appeared before them, taking their breath as always. "Well hello I guess we're stuck in danger together," he said flirty "Might as well make the most out of it" he bowed down before them.

"Poor kitty, and where's your lady?" They said, teasingly to the cat boy who so desperately tried to get under their skin.

"Said she will be right back."

And just on queue, the lady in red stormed into the room. Taking a look at Chat Noir once she sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. Multimouse, I need you." She handed the already well-known miraculous box to them as they nodded in response.

It was safe to say Chat Noir was losing his mind. His eyes widened at the sudden information, as he stared at them in amazement. "You're Multimouse?!" he squeaked. Thinking back on the previous times Multimouse came to help and he did nothing but flirt with them. There was something that stood out about them and he never knew what. Now, it all made sense.

Then yet again, he wonders how whenever Multimous was around, Ladybug also got way more talkative and goofy and eager for their attention. He remembers all the fights over Multimouse he and the lady had led. It all came together now.

"Of course I am," they said, tying the necklace around their neck and meeting with Mullo, once again.

"I've missed you Y/N," Mullo said, happily flying around.

"I can say the same" they responded, ready to transform "Mullo, get squeaky!"

"Wow," both of the Paris' superheroes were smitten. Stealing a dirty look from each other for one last time they created a plan with Multimouse to defeat Ninkilia. As Ladybug said, she is completely sure the Akuma is in her hand machine.

"That's the plan, just follow my lead" she finished her speech

"As you wish my lady" Multimouse chimed in before Chat Noir could say anything. Ladybug's hot cheeks were prominent through her mask, and the cat looked nothing but jealous.

"R-right, let's go" the girl with spots exclaimed, her cheeks still burning red.

Jumping from the roof, Multimouse teased the villain. "A mouse? No!" Ninkilia yelled. "If you can live in the garbage now, why can't you do it in a form of a true rat itself" she cried as she shot around random people on the street.

"We have to get to her hand machine quickly," Chat Noir said fighting the lady in black. "And maybe then we can go somewhere just the two of us."

He winked at Multimouse who only laughed, and earned a look of pure hatred from Ladybug. Expecting a comment on his own behalf, Chat Noir was surprised by the lady's response. "You don't want to go with him trust me. I know the best ice cream in town."

Multimouse only laughed "Let's get rid of this rat lady first," they said "Multitude!"

"No, not the mice!" Ninkilia desperately tried shooting the little mice around her as they climbed up her legs. Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around her, pinning her to the ground.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Cataclysm"

The Akuma has been purified and the trio has once more, saved the day. "Pound it!"

"It has been a pleasure working with you" black cat smiled sheepishly, taking the mouse's hand and kissing it softly. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you again soon?"

"We'll see," they said, signalizing Ladybug it's time to go.

Ladybug pulled them close, taking them by the waist and already feeling her heart beat faster. Multimouse, or precisely, Y/N placed their head in the crook of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Soon, they were flying through the air, holding just by her yoyo.

"Thank you for choosing me," they said, as they scootched closer to her body, clinging in fear of falling down.

"How could I not?"

Marinette's heartbeat raced faster as they shared a soft smile. If it were up to her, she would like to fight alongside them all the time.

#miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #chat noir x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #adrien x reader #mlb #mlb adrien #plagg #tikki #mullo #imagine #one-shot #fanfiction #miraculous

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

Text

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin @blueskrugs & @fenwaynightlights for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it?

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV.

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #My writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years ago

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Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

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

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

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

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years ago

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Hey, I vicariously live in my imagination to escape from the reality.

So, I have been wondering about the Rogues reaction to Tony defeating thanos, the IronSmaug, taking over the world etc...

Have a go at it, if you are interested.

It's also fine if you dont.

thanks, I really, really needed the distraction. it's been. an interesting week. not in a good way.

tbh, the whole 'what does Team Cap think about this mess?' thing in TWiFFON is...something I had originally been torn about, and everything that's been happening ever since means I keep finding myself going "do I have the energy to tackle this? lol no".

For some context, because you probably know my stance on this sort of thing but I prefer redundancy just to make sure we're on the same page: once upon a time, I honestly, genuinely did like the Avengers. All of them, and yes, that included Wanda [...for less than an hour, but still].

Back when I still had faith in the writers, I was constantly going "...okay, so when are these guys going to stop acting so OOC? Where tf are they planning on taking these character arcs?" and just being disappointed at each turn— but I stuck around because I liked the potential. Steve "what do you mean punching fascists isn't cool anymore?" Rogers, Natasha "my past is a tire fire and I'll just leave it at that" Romanov, Clint "where's Loki? Let me at him!" Barton and the rest of the group had their good points, and I gave myself a headache trying to figure out wtf was their thought process when the time came for them to do their thing in TWiFFON.

It wasn't fun, I only did it because it was absolutely necessary... and I still ended up receiving complaints.

Look: for me, character bashing is exhausting. I have enough going down in my life that I don't have any interest in writing it, and over the past few years I've seen more than one of the fandoms I follow/lurk in become salt mines that have me going "...okay, if you hate it so much, why are you even here?"

When I write, I try my best to emphasize the 'actions have consequences' thing I learned long before I hit puberty; but that doesn't mean I'm up for anything beyond that. Again, I used to like these characters, so seeing the levels of suffering canon— and some writers— put them through just has me stepping back for a moment.

But TWiFFON attracted a lot of people who were pretty far out there in terms of what they wanted, some of whom got very very pissy when it wasn't the story I wanted to write, which is...probably like 99% of the reason I'm still burned out on that AU. Apart from the recent personal life bs that means I am Not Up To Dealing With any hypothetical rando that shows up in my inbox, because normally I could not care less about what people think but my energy levels are. Um. Not great atm. Not sure I wouldn't bite anyone's head off if they wanted to start something right now, tbh, or just ragequit writing for a while because I have way better things to do with my time than deal with random internet assholes.

...apologies for the tangent, but now you know why that situation is one I'm normally kinda reluctant on tackling.

As for what I'd originally headcanoned:

Back before things hit the fan, I'd originally planned to have some little interlude snippets of what Team Cap's been dealing with. Mostly, it would've forced them to acknowledge that for all none of them liked or trusted Tony, he was basically just the personification of what the rest of the world thought of them.

Nobody respects them, anymore, or trusts them; Clint'd be in very hot water and sleeping on the couch for a while, and Hank Pym would never let Scott hear the end of his involvement in this whole thing because Hank hates the Stark name and the English language cannot concisely articulate just how pissed off he was that he had to publicly thank Tony.

Team Cap overall would also start to fall apart at the seams as more and more stuff came out and ey, turns out the leader they'd trusted and broken international laws for had lied to them.

By omission, sure, but honestly— do you think that'd go down well? The "oh yeah, I've known my brainwashed friend killed his parents since DC but I am not going to tell him unless I'm forced to" thing?

I don't know about you, but I for one highly doubt Sam Wilson would be okay with that. Or Clint, for that matter, and the list goes on because the more time passes, the more stuff keeps coming out of the woodwork and for the first time in years, they're forced to deal with it.

One of the things I planned to include in the sidefic can basically be summed up as "the curious case of Bucky Barnes": that is to say, what'd happen after he's taken into custody, and poke lightly at the clusterfuck we're unpacking here. Tony, feeling bad for losing control in the bunker, would basically go "shit I fucked up but I also never want to see him again but he's an even bigger mess than I am, that's a whole lot to unpack so you know what? I'm just throwing out the suitcase entirely here, have all the resources for support and help and if I ever see you again, it'll be too soon".

...to sum up, it's messy af. SI Legal would feature heavily because his particular case means he needs a team of lawyers, what with the 'former POW who's trying to recover from All The Trauma' thing, and the 'so I literally was just trying to buy some damn groceries when you guys dragged me into this', and Tony basically went "hey, so if anyone wants to help him, uh, I kinda have some interest in this one. Fair warning, dude probably killed Kennedy while mind-controlled, with our luck".

And along the way, there'd also be some of that one subplot I'd cut due to pacing issues: specifically, the one dealing with prosthetics.

Remember how Miriam Sharpe said her son would never walk again? Yeah, we'd be revisiting that: her family'd get a letter or something inviting them for clinical trials, and meet Rhodey in passing as he's using his own leg braces to get around because he's still healing. Bucky would get a few design offers for a free replacement for his arm, and it'd probably end up being a collab with Wakanda because T'Challa feels bad for his role in that mess as well.

So Team Cap would be seeing this, seeing how everyone's acting and reacting, and the way one of their own is getting all the help and support Stark Industries has to offer and realizing that yeah, they messed up. Big time.

...depending on my salt levels and how close we're sticking to canon, I was thinking this'd go one of two ways.

Either they'd double down and just go "ugh, Tony is a supervillain and we can't do anything about it!" while TWiFFON marches on and then later go "...you mean he did it by accident?!", or...

Well, canon's proven character development and continuity isn't really in their writers' vocabulary. So my original idea of 'they're forced to deal with the reality of the situation, acknowledge they messed up and slowly move on with their lives' would've been very unrealistic.

Again, most of this is intentionally vague, I had not been keen to tackle that mess in TWiFFON in the first place and the way things exploded on me means I really, really don't have the energy to do so now. Not when there's far better things I could do with my time, like mess around with AUs where people actually get along, or knit, or— well, the list goes on.

#The War is Far From Over Now #From the Other Side [A Terror To Behold]#thinking aloud #I got an ask!#Naught replies #replies #behind the scenes

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alecxaheart · 4 years ago

Text

Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (2)

✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 5.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎ Parts : 1 , 2

" Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.

You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "

Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "

Twin buildings towered above you two, heavy work's shouting for the both of you. You suddenly feel so small when you found out who this dude was in the company. Either way, you stepped inside the building next to him as if you're supposed to be. You don't have any other choice though unless you wanna be dragged by this buff guy and look like a fool rolling around since the thread is invisible to the public.

" I'm surprised that you don't know who I am, " He stated as you entered the elevator with him. You could tell how much of a fuss this is already when you walked in those doors alongside him.

" Does it really have to be my fault when I only started working here a few months ago, Mr. CEO? " He responded with a chuckle.

" It's Mr. Bang, well, at work. You can call me Chan when we're not. I don't like such formality and bringing work on my rest hours. "

" Oh, so you're that Mr. Bang. The one I hid from last night, " You whispered the last sentence.

" Pardon? " The elevator chimed as you reached your floor, opening its doors swiftly.

" It's.. It's nothing, " You stuttered and hastily stepped out of the elevator while Chan followed. " Why are we on my floor again? Isn't yours like, at the very top floor just to have that stunning view of the world or something? "

" Seems like some fanfiction you got there for me, " He chuckled first while you lowered your head in embarrassment. " But no, my office is at the opposite building, about two or three levels above yours which means it's the middle floor. In addition to that, I have to discuss matters with your boss due to some adjustments that we have over here, " He brought up his thumb to your view, talking about the red string. " Just hand over the documents then wait for me outside by the door, copy? " Chan explained as he stopped in front of a dark oak door, knocking on it three times.

" Adjustments? What- "

" Come in, " The voice on the other side of the door called out. You could've had a short session of hesitations first but this Bang Chan just opens the door widely and gives off such superior vibes that gave you the chills - like he should 'cause he's the CEO, he freaking owns the place. You did wonder why you haven't been fired yet after every informalities you've shown to him. What a great first impression you got there for a Chief Executive Officer, you're never gonna get a promotion to get out of this trashy position.

The surprising entrance of the uninvited and unexpected guest caught your boss off-guard. " Ah! G-Good morning, Mr. Bang! " Ms. Kang frantically stood up and bowed, her phone slipping off of her hands and onto the desk. Looking up, she saw you behind Chan, your hand fidgeting around the strap of your bag while head held down. " And Ms... (Y/N)? " She questioned as she averted her eyes back to Chan.

" Pardon me although I won't be here for long, I'm only handing you the documents like you instructed, Ms. Kang. " You said while handing her the documents. She took a quick scan on it before she gestured you to leave. Following Chan's instructions, you wait by the door as soon as you've shut it. Trying your best to not let curiosity get the best of you and eavesdrop, you distracted yourself by scrolling through your phone and jamming to some Monsta X's songs.

" May I ask what business brought you here to my office? "

" I'd like to compromise. "

It wasn't long that you've thought about getting fired and promotions, not even hours had passed.

Yet here you are, promoted and working as the CEO's assistant on that very day like it's the only choice. Standing on the polished marble floors, opposite side of the building, in his high-class office. It was spacious enough to fit two office desks and a lounge (probably for coffee breaks or small meetings) yet grand-looking with the accent walls and chandelier. The smell of lavender and the nice fluorescent glow it had made it better. Speaking of glow, you suddenly missed Kim Seungmin, the only co-worker friend you got. His bright presence who would constantly bother you from time to time during work hours. You can't really pinpoint whether he is an angel or demon with that fact because most likely you're the one being scolded instead of him. He better be jealous by the time he finds out you're now a CEO's Assistant.

" Ms. Kang got what she wished for in exchange for you getting the 2nd best achievable seat in the company, " Chan continued to elaborate the discussion in the room where it happened as he took a seat, not even bothering to help you fix your new desk if he was a gentleman. Honestly, it's undeniably comfortable being around this man despite you only got acquainted with him this day.

" Seriously? Can't you just promote me with a snap of your fingers? " You whined, arranging all of your things out from the container.

" Maybe if I had the infinity stones, " He first joked and you're not taking it. " Although it's Ms. Kang, there's an exchange for everything with her, " He casually said, looking through his emails with his chin resting on his fist.

" I- " Learn to shut your pesky little mouth, (Y/N). Your own conscience just sealed your mouth from babbling nonsense.

Well, let's think about the bright side. First up, you're promoted, meaning you'll get a way higher pay than before. Second, you're free from Ms. Kang's grasp. Third, Chan seems like a nice and chill boss. If your impression on him will be proven wrong, in any way he couldn't be as worse as Ms. Kang 'cause so far he saved your butt and doesn't mind your attitude.

" Ah, right. You're staying at my house for the meantime, " The book you're trying to place on the top shelf just fell on your head, making you lose your balance and fall to the ground. The loud thump made Chan glance at you, preventing himself from laughing. With your head aching and vision uneven, you tried to process what he said.

" What did you say? " Chan stood up from his chair and made his way towards you.

" I said you're staying at my house until we figure out how to break this thread off, " He answered as he offered a hand for you to take. This simple action made you tense, feeling your face heating up. You gladly took it with weak legs, though you eventually got back to your own feet without his support.

" Yours? Why not mine? I bet it's closer to work than yours. "

" You got a lot of complaints, I hope you know that. "

" No I'm not! Just.. talkative, " You bluffed, pouting. " And fine, your house then. Mine's probably not as presentable as yours anyway. "

This is the red string of fate that kept you two together the whole time, knotted around one another's finger securely. Both of you share the same thoughts while sitting on the couch in the living room of Chan's luxurious penthouse. It did offer extravagant views of Seoul from the top of the apartment, making everything feel so surreal. Could it possibly be malfunctioning? It's supposed to stretch out without limitations as well as it'll be invisible to the naked eye including yours, according to the tales and legends you've heard as a child. Most importantly, how could you break it off?

" Maybe this had to do something with the child, " Chan thought to himself, legs crossed and eyes trained down to the floor. " You cleared our schedule for the week, correct? " He looked towards you, catching your gaze on him.

" Yes, I did. Why? " You couldn't help but be enchanted in his brown eyes. It did look brighter in the sunset than before as the sunlight kissed his face. You wanted to take a closer look at it as to what it may hold within those orbs.

" You know the child back in the train? The one who placed this string of fate around our fingers? " With those words, you were snapped back into reality.

" Child? No? I was asleep, remember? " You looked away and a dog's appearance caught your attention, feeling soft and in 'awe' for it immediately. It had some large brown spots on its white fur, fluffy and has this wavy ears. It looks quite similar to that dog named 'Lady' in "Lady and the Tramp". Noticing that it was really friendly even with strangers, you patted its head lightly as it neared you. Chan witnessed you bond with his partner, smiling. The dog was ecstatic to make new friends with you that it jumped to your lap. Giggling, you ruffled its fur and kissed its forehead. " Seems like you're well loved, baby~ " You cooed, booping its nose.

" She's Berry, by the way. " Chan informed you while watching you play with berry's paws.

" I have to say, she's the cutest, " You flashed a beaming smile at him, eyes forming into crescents. Chan couldn't do anything but smile back, his heart slowly melting at the scene in front of him. You caught the sight of his dimples, which made you think that it's now one of your favorite features he has. If everyday's like this, it'd be such a bliss. Yet you know it'll somehow be just another memory you'll treasure since there will be an end to this.

Back to reality, Chan further tells you the details of the occurrences while you were sleeping. " Ah, right. About the child. If my memory serves me correct, he was blonde headed and had ocean blue-like eyes. He's about 4'6 feet in height and the one who placed this thread around our fingers. When I tried to run after him, he just vanished into thin air. "

" You sure you're not being delusional? " You carefully placed berry down on the couch then made your way to the kitchen.

" Positive. " He replied while petting his companion, who's getting some rest first, before following you. You asked him what his plans were, wrapping your fingers around the refrigerator handle. Opening it, you scanned for available foods due to your stomach being upset in this whole conversation. There's a lot of goods, especially meat. You're assuming that this man eats a lot even when he's on his own. While you were busy with that, Chan thinks of an itinerary for the whole week to get your own lives back. Until, his deep thoughts were interrupted by you.

" How about we eat dinner first so then you can plan properly, hm? You want steak? " You asked, placing the ingredients you need right in front of his view. His eyes just twinkled before you and were already on the raw steak, famished.

" Chris wants steak, please! " Enthusiastically said by Chris, giggling afterwards.

" Steak coming right up just for Chris! " He responded with a small clap, smiling ear to ear. You have to be honest, your first meeting with him is just the worst than any other possible happenings to you two's first meeting. Yet you're satisfied that at least you met him in some way that brought you closer, especially with this string of fate. And today's gonna be a long night for the both of you.

It's very late at night yet your body wouldn't let you rest despite Chan giving you his whole king-sized bed while he sleeps on his divan couch a few meters away, or so you thought he's fast asleep. Although the comforter, mattress, pillows, just the bed as a whole is definitely a 5-star, you can't really sleep easily in someone else's home that you just met. Minutes that felt like hours passed, your eyes were blankly staring at the ceiling. The silence was quite dreadful for you usually at night, which is what you get for watching a fairly ton of horror movies. With a few sessions of hesitations, you decided to break it by calling Chan first. " Psst. Hey Chan. Who designed your house? "

After a short pause, you received a fade sound of shifting and a groan. " A friend of mine. His name's Hyunjin. Why do you ask? " He responded, staring at the same ceiling as you. Arms resting behind his head.

You laid down on your stomach then propped your chin on your hands, facing him. " Is he cute? "

" Seriously, (Y/N)? " He deadpanned. " Also he's already Changbin's anyway so I suggest you stay away unless you want a death wish. "

" Okay, Okay. Chill. I'm just asking, " You rolled your eyes. " I just can't sleep. "

" I already offered you the best bed there is. " Chan looked at your direction and glared.

" It's not that. It's from the fact that I can't fall asleep easily in a stranger's house, that's for sure, " You shifted again in the soft cream cotton bed, letting your body sink. It's like you're laying on a relieving cloud in the heavens.

" We've already passed the stranger level. Let's say we're acquaintances. "

" That doesn't make any such difference especially to my problem but okay. " You pouted.

A long pause surrounded the room, the chills slowly creeping on to your skin. You covered your whole body with the warm comforter, feeling the slumber visiting you little by little. A yawn escaping your lips and eyes getting droopy. Pondering for a second before you let yourself sleep, you took a last glance towards Chan. " Are you cold? " You asked when you saw him without any blankets. He responded with a hum.

" A little bit. But I'll be alright, don't worry, " He yawned, eyes getting heavy as he slowly visited dreamland. " Goodnight, (Y/N). "

However, before you reply, you silently get off the bed when you're sure Chan's too tired to even open his eyes again. Making your way around the room with tippy toes until you found what you needed. You've gone over to his divan couch where he occupies it, placing the blanket you found on top of his and Berry's body, who happen to be sleeping peacefully right next to him. With a weak smile, you finally greeted him back before heading back to the bed and your slumber, " Goodnight Chan, Berry. Sweet dreams. "

Almost afternoon came but none of you decided to rise and shine, except for Berry who's starting to get hungry. It was indeed past her usual breakfast time and she doesn't seem to like the sound of having 'brunch'. So then to get what she needed, she has to be the doggo clock for today.

Berry starts barking the best that she could although it didn't make any much effect, Chan only responded by covering his ears and turning away while you stayed unbothered in your deep sleep. She proceeds to hop back on Chan's couch and licks his face, surely an effective way. He immediately flinched at the wet contact and moved Berry's face away from his, slowly opening his eyes to meet an adorable face smiling at him. " Good morning to you too, " He replied followed with a yawn.

The King Charles Spaniel dog makes her way out of the room after accomplishing step one. While Chan took his time before completely getting out of bed - or rather, couch. With a few stretches and after taking a glance at the time, he made his way out of the room to make breakfast. He glanced towards your sleeping figure. Mumbling a silent, " Thank you. " for what you've done to him in the middle of the night before carefully closing the door behind him.

Before he could even reach the kitchen, a tug from his thumb stopped him in his tracks. Chan forgot that the string of fate only has a length of 7 meters. Sighing, he went back to you and thankfully found you still fast asleep.

Chan sat down on the edge of the bed, your back facing him. Once more, his dark brown eyes gazed upon your sleeping beauty state underneath the sunlight. Once more, he admired this mesmerizing view of you for a good few seconds. He lightly tapped your shoulder, causing you to shift your body to face him while responding with a hum. " Good morning, it's time to rise and shine, " He greeted in his husky morning voice, unknowingly smiling sweetly at you. You replied with a groan, covering your whole body with the comforter. " C'mon, let's go and have breakky. "

" You should've woken me up when breakfast is ready, " You whined, your voice muffled underneath the comforter. Chan chuckled then pulled down the comforter away from your face, " I would've if it wasn't for this string. Now come on. ". You groaned, feeling defeated. Sitting up on the bed, you opened your eyes to meet Chan's face filled with softness and joy. Seeing that first thing in the morning made you smile. It was lovely.

A loud bark from outside of the room interrupted, assuming that Berry's dying of hunger. You instinctively hopped off the bed and hastily made your way to Berry, Chan followed suit. At the kitchen, you both found Berry sitting in front of her food bowl, whimpering. " Oh no, the baby's hungry, " You cooed as you knelt down to pet her. " Chan, you can start making our breakfast, " He followed your instruction, putting on an apron and started preparing you two's breakfast.

" Where's her food, by the way? "

" Are you sure we're gonna find him here? " You questioned, walking a little behind Chan at the same train station yesterday. His strides were big and quite fast which made it difficult for you to keep up at his pace. To the point that your eyes were set on the floor where you have a clear view of you two's feet. You're trying to match his pace but you immediately get worned out and fall behind once more. You guessed it was a CEO thing.

" Well, did you see him in any other places? " You fell silent, continuing to keep up with his pace. The fact that you've been asleep during that time and missed the chance to see who's behind this string of fate hit you. Chan's considered lucky to be awake and witness it.

Chan took a glance behind him to see your reaction, only to find you struggling to match with his settled pace. As soon as he noticed it, he slowed down and matched his pace with yours. Confused, you looked up at him. There were no signs of annoyance or pity on his face, and that made you delighted. What a considerate guy.

It wasn't that long until you both got in the train. The two of you sat down next to each other on a vacant bench and let the train lightly sway you as it starts moving. There was a comfortable silence lingering in the train car as you waited for this child to come into your view. Fortunately, the train's not as crowded as you thought it would be so it would be easier for you to spot the child.

After 3 more stops, you started to get distracted. Your eyes boring onto the view of the opposite window side. Chan kept cautious in his surroundings, still having high hopes of seeing the child's appearance. He didn't realize how much time had already passed and sooner or later, they'll reach the last stop. On the other hand, you slowly began to get drowsy. It's probably because you're sleep deprived for the past few weeks, over-working yourself since that Ms. Kang came into your life. You let your head rest on Chan's shoulder unconsciously which surprised him. With that, Chan first made sure you were comfortable, setting aside the thought of needing to meet the child. He hesitated first, though he did ended up wrapping his arm around you and kept you close to him. Feeling relaxed and secured, you shut your eyes as you slept in his warm embrace.

Chan noticed how much exhausted you are during the time he's been with you. He may not know exactly how tough your previous boss was to you, but it did show a huge impact on you. He thought that you looked so fragile underneath his touch, and he greatly feared the moment you might break. So he made sure to be careful with you. But other than that, he felt the urge - the need or wanting to protect you at that moment. He did questioned why, out of all people, he felt it from and because of you.

Maybe, it's because you looked so exquisite especially under the sunlight. Maybe, it's because he thought you looked adorable and amusing at the same time when you whine or complain. Maybe, it's because you're motherly especially to Berry.

Maybe, he just caught feelings for you. That's why he's questioning " why you? ", it was already love.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you never got to encounter the mysterious child once more. Days have already passed, it has been almost a week. Yet to you and Chan's dismay, no signs of the boy at all. The both of you began to lose hope and just give up. Especially you.

You felt guilty for being the least focused between the two of you, leaving Chan more responsibilities. Find the mystic child and to look out for you. You weren't really in the best shape right now, Chan knew that. You easily got tired, tend to oversleep, and you're hella pale, which you knew well that it isn't so you. " I'm sorry, " You mumbled weakly, your legs crossed and back lean on the couch pillows. Trying to not lay down and sleep more since you did just woke up from a faint.

Hearing this, Chan head over to you then immediately refused. " No, no, no. It's alright, no need to apologize. Just focus on getting better right now, okay? " You replied with a small nod, his warm hands were on yours. That simple touch always made your blood color your cheeks and feel so shy. He went back to the kitchen to continue preparing your dinner as soon as he is satisfied with your answer. In the mean time, Berry made sure to keep you busy and entertained.

While Chan's dicing some pork on a cutting board, he took a glance at the red string wrapped around his thumb. He noticed a small difference to it ever since the first day you both tried to look for the child. It had more of a faint color red, losing its opaqueness. Almost like it's about to vanish which is at some point is a good thing. Though it still has its limitations for length and never broke at your own will. He wondered if you have noticed it as well. What would it be like to be back on your own lives? Chan would be lying if he managed to picture that when he felt disheartened just at the thought of it. He got used to your small complaints, you baby talking and spoiling his dog, needing to be taken care of - when you're unable to do it yourself, even the pocket knife in your bag, that he couldn't imagine you being gone. You did became apart of his life afterall and that left him thinking of making you stay. Chan already figured that he's starting to like you back then on the train, 1st day of hunting down the child.

Which got him pondering. Concluding to a theory that maybe, this string of fate isn't going to vanish. It was only starting to get invisible to your naked eye, just like what you originally thought it would function. But it will always be there no matter what. This string of fate just happens to be more translucent the more you both realize how much you love each other.

Chan tore his gaze away from the string, switching to your pale figure in the living room. Once he knew he could leave the food cooking for a while, he grabbed a glass of water and went back to you. " You like that friend of yours, huh? " You referred to Berry's favorite dog plush. Seeing Chan in your peripheral vision, you locked eyes with him. Beaming him the sweetest smile you could muster which he instantly returned. He offered you the drink and you gladly took it into your hands. Taking a sip, you could feel Chan's eyes burning through your skin. Heat rushes to your face just by that. It's frustrating how you're so easy when he's by your side and only with him. Frequently getting the butterflies, timid, blushy, heart racing, distracted by how ethereal he is, and everything related. And you completely denied your feelings for him.

Chan took a seat beside you, now looking at the pitch black night sky out of his window walls. Those dark brown orbs showed a hint of disappointment. Following his gaze, you figured out the reason. The sky's literally pitch black, starless. As well as the moon being nowhere in sight. The melancholic sight did brought a frown to your face and you couldn't stand it. Looking back at him, you realized that there's no need for you to be crestfallen. In fact, you should be in awe.

It seems like Chan took and held the whole galaxy in his eyes that's why the night sky is empty. His eyes twinkling and shining in the darkness. Many must've envied him for that and it feels so surreal to witness it in by your very own eyes. To have it in front of you. And maybe, just maybe.

You do like Bang Chan.

" Where the hell are you taking me, Chan?! " You quietly panicked as Chan led you to an unfamiliar forest. Just the thought of the crawlies present in places like this made you shudder. " D-Do you really think the child would be brave enough to be here when I am already cowering in fear just looking at this? "

" We're not here for that child, " He chuckled at your state, continuing to walk ahead of you and deeper into the woods. Your wary eyes stayed restless, darting from left to right. " We're here to just relax. " Chan's voice began to echo the farther he is away from you.

You started to get pissed at how he started being inconsiderate and how relaxed he is right now, that's definitely not what you know about him. " What the fuck are you talking about?! So we're just wasting our ti- " The sudden raise of your voice resulted a noise in the forest - sounded like a bird flapping its wings. The sound made you flinch then you picked up your pace to get to him. You tugged onto Chan's jacket which caused him to stop and look back to you. " Chan, please, let's just go home. " You hushly pleaded from behind him, your head hung low in fear and embarrassment.

Sighing, Chan held both of your hands in his. Rubbing circles on it for you to ease up. The both of you still connected by the string of fate, which looks like it's bound to vanish soon. He also noticed how you're short in breath. " Easy, easy. Take deep breaths with me, yeah? " You matched his breathing with yours, eventually loosening up in his warmth like always. You just felt so safe and secure when you're with him. " Let's proceed? I promise you that when we get there, it'll be worth it. " He reassured, never leaving his grip on you.

" Chan.. " You whimpered and Chan instantly hushed you.

" If it makes you feel better, I'll never let go of you, " Oh how you wished that'll last forever. " Sounds good? " You nodded hesitantly.

With that, you let Chan lead you towards his destination. The comfort of his hands wrapped around yours never left on the way just like he promised. It wasn't too long until you saw light at the end of the forest. You could hear faint sounds of waves meeting the seashore and birds singing a melody. The fear you had a while ago slowly washed away as you're nearing the place.

Reaching the light, you witnessed the jaw dropping sight of the beach on the other side of the fence. Like Chan said, it is promising and worth it. He guided you in hopping onto an enormous boulder to get to the other side and you didn't complain, you're too drawn into the beach. In excitement, you went ahead of Chan, letting go of his grasp. Your feet immediately ushering you to the seashore where you could feel the cold water at your toes. As soon as you got here, you felt like you were cleansed. As if the sea took every problem, worries and fears away from you. It was healing and just the thought of it made you smile unknowingly. You never knew you needed this until now, it has been years since the last time you've been this carefree.

On the other hand, Chan's seated at his usual place. Where he could take in the whole view. Now that you were apart of it, everything seemed to set into place for his secret escapade paradise. All felt just right. The way you dance with the waves, moving with the sea, completely letting the rhythm of the water set yourself free. Plus the wind blowing your hair, your face glowing underneath the sun, how blinding your smile was at that moment, he cherished it all. " Perfect with no reasons, " Chan thought out loud as his eyes were trained on you. Unbeknownst to him, it was loud enough for you to hear it clearly.

" Perfect? " You questioned, making your way to his side. His eyes widened, alarmed. Chan looked away without hesitation. The tip of his ears starting to turn red in embarrassment. You sat down next to him, knowing that you'll be bringing some sand in your pockets back home. Noticing his ears, you let out a hearty laugh. " Aww, look at you! "

" I know, I know, " He started, covering his ears. " I'm helpless. "

" Huh? What are you talking about? " You asked while tilting your head to the side in confusion. There was a short pause, only the sound of waves continuously ringing in the area could be heard. As well as the sound of leaves rustling while the wind whispers sweet nothings to it and palm trees swaying from side to side.

" Like- "

" If this is you doubting yourself again, gosh Chan you're not the helpless one between the two of us. " You pointed out with your arms crossed. " You're a CEO of a well known company! Plus, who took care of me? You. Who saved my ass from Ms. Kang? You. Who just comforted me a while ago? You. You are never incapable or weak. If anyone told you otherwise, I- "

" I'm helplessly in love with you is what I meant, (Y/N)! " Chan confessed, now facing you.

Then, the thread in your fingers entirely loosened without any of you knowing.

The two of you locked eyes for a minute. Both surprised by everything, especially you. The wind did whisper something to the two of you, too. Yet it's difficult to figure it out at the moment. Even in broad daylight, his eyes still held the whole galaxy. And you could never let that dim.

" You walked into my life as if you've always lived there, like my heart was a home built just for you, " Chan continued, his hand already searching for yours. Looking down at your now intertwined hands, eyes filled with pure love and adoration. " It fits just like a glo- "

Perfect with no reasons.

Chan was taken by surprise at your sudden answer. You cutted him off, attaching your lips to his. Your free hand finding itself cupping his face. He then passionately responded to the kiss, his arm snaking its way around your waist to keep you close - now that the string of fate is invisible and endless. The kiss resulted you to feel so lightheaded. The softness of his lips brought you to euphoria, everything just felt so right in place. In the end, both of you were left breathless. You couldn't do anything for a few seconds after, keeping your eyes closed with mouth agape of you to try let your mind process what just happened.

You did't need for him to explain or give you anymore reasons why he loves you. The string of fate has always been the answer, reason and explanation to your love. Ever since the beginning, you and Chan are destined to meet regardless of the time, place or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle but nothing could break it and never will. You're one another's someone's someone who you can't live without.

End.

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dreamyyang · 4 years ago

Text

summary: you made taeil’s undead heart soar and he was absolutely addicted to the feeling.

pairing(s): yandere!zombie!moon taeil x reader | kim doyoung x reader

warning(s): swearing, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, gore (kind of..?), minor character death, cannibalism, non con (taeil forcefully kisses the reader)

word count: 2.6k words

a/n: this is pretty heavy stuff so if any of the aforementioned content triggers you, do not read. please note that I do not condone taeil’s behaviour and that this is purely a work of fiction. my fic is not an accurate representation of taeil’s actual personality.

part of @127-mile’s addiction collab

emotions were as foreign to moon taeil as brains and human flesh once were. while he doesn’t mind either of them, they were just very hard to come by. that changed when he got a job at the qian family’s mortuary, courtesy of qian kun, a mutual friend. johnny had already explained taeil’s special situation to kun, who agreed to give taeil access to the bodies so long as he worked as kun’s assistant. it was an excellent arrangement for both men - taeil could finally eat some proper food while kun finally had help. for obvious reasons, not many people were willing to work at a morgue, especially for such low wages.

taeil managed to ease himself into a routine of work, brains, sleep then repeat. while many people would eventually go insane from being constantly surrounded by cold, still bodies, taeil couldn’t care less. a zombie couldn’t ask for a better arrangement. while he did not experience emotions, he still felt a semblance of peace.

at least, that was before you showed up, completely unannounced. of course, your arrival wasn’t completely random, kun did warn taeil that his cousin was coming home after getting their phd, but you weren’t what taeil expected. he had this mental image of you being stoic and reserved. he thought you’d briefly acknowledge him with a slight nod while visiting your cousin and that would be it. imagine his surprise when he came to work and was greeted by a smile brighter than the sun. you were like the human embodiment of a meadow of flowers in the summer - warm, wonderful and welcoming. hell, you even smelled like flowers.

suddenly, his daily routine was ruined.

most mornings, you would meet him at the mortuary, looking as fresh as a daisy, and hand him an equally fresh box of baked goods from the bakery next to your clinic. if it was a slow morning, and it usually was, you would make small talk with him while kun went over the day’s plans in his office. he began to cherish those morning conversations with you and his undead heart would sink when the clock struck nine and it was time for you to hug him and kun goodbye. from then on, he was usually in a sour mood for the rest of the day, not humouring the silly jokes kun made as they worked. he would get off work with a dull ache in his heart if you weren’t there to pick kun up or offer to take them out for drinks.

this abrupt change frightened taeil more than anything. why was he suddenly experiencing these strange feelings? he hated it. every day, he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions that would be decided by whether or not he saw his boss’ cousin. it was so absurd. in the past five years of him being a zombie, he hadn’t felt such extreme emotions before. they all felt so...so human.

when he consulted johnny about these strange occurrences, his friend began to howl with laughter, “dude, it’s so obvious!”

taeil glared at johnny, “care to explain what exactly is so obvious?”

“you like y/n. why else would you be constantly pining for them?”

taeil scoffed. johnny must have smoked something because there was no way he liked you. at best, he had known you for three months and it isn’t like you regularly spent time together. plus, you were related to his boss. johnny had no idea what he was talking about, he was full of shit.

“that’s bullshit. I don’t buy it,” taeil shook his head, leaning back in his chair.

“no I swear, it’s true! we drove past this factory and they were just beheading these chickens out in the open,” you sighed. “anyway, the sight was so sickening, I’ve never looked at meat the same way since.”

“yet you decided to be a thoracic surgeon.”

you shrugged, “yeah but operating on people and eating meat are two different things. I don’t mind looking at flesh and blood but the thought of eating any makes me sick.”

taeil silently thanked you as you made that statement. ever since johnny had suggested that taeil liked you, he’d been searching for reasons not to like you. and of course, there’s no way he could like you if you were a vegetarian. you would be absolutely disgusted if you knew what his main diet consisted of. yet, every now and then, he felt his mind drifting away to a different mental list - a list of the things he liked about you.

he liked how you would come up with the most absurd conversation starters, just to make him crack a smile. he liked how your hugs were warm and comfortable. he was even beginning to like the fuzzy feeling that would envelop his heart whenever he was around you. you made him giddy and lovesick and eventually, he didn’t mind anymore. being around you all the time forced him to accept that he had very strong feelings for you. in fact, he was certain that even as a human, he had never had feelings this intense. there was just something special about you that had him feeling some sort of way. normally, he would have been afraid of how you controlled your heart but now? he was in too deep to care.

he decided it was better for him to just accept the fact that he loved you. why try to fight it? it was highly unlikely that he would feel this way about anyone ever again. he had to hold onto you, he would be insane to let you go.

finally, he plucked up the courage to confess to you. he was falling for you more and more every single day, and not being with you was slowly killing him. he decided to surprise you at the clinic where you worked with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he planned to treat you to lunch at a romantic café then confess to you while walking you back to the clinic. he had rehearsed the little speech he wanted to give over twenty times with johnny, who repeatedly assured him that everything would go well.

it did not go well.

taeil was greeted by a unpleasant surprise when he reached the entrance of the clinic. there you stood, his beloved y/n, in another man’s arms. taeil watched, horrified, as the man placed a soft kiss on your lips. you looked so happy with him and it broke taeil’s heart. he felt awful as he watched you smile at the man. that same wonderful smile that he wished was for his eyes only. it felt like a cruel joke to have your laughter fill his ears as tears pricked his eyes. taeil was glad that nobody was paying attention to him as hot tears stained his cheeks. he couldn’t have gotten away sooner, pushing past the people on the street to go home.

he quickly texted an excuse to kun about how he felt sick and would be gone for the rest of the day. it wasn’t exactly a lie - he did feel sick and every time he thought about you and the stranger, it only got worse. he ripped up the bouquet and the plastic that had been wrapped around their stems, screaming as he did it. pain bled into fury as he destroyed the beautiful flowers. he was unbelievably angry and wouldn’t stop until every last petal had been snatched from the base and scattered on the floor. he was blinded by rage as he made a mess of his apartment floor. finally, the bouquet had been completely ripped apart and tears cleared taeil’s vision.

he dropped to the floor, feeling miserable as he stared at the mess, tears streaking down his face. he loved you so much, but someone had stolen you away. how dare that asshole? you were supposed to be taeil’s, how could he just come between the two of you like that? how incredibly selfish of him. taeil had to get rid of him, as soon as possible. the more time you spend with that jerk, the more he’ll ruin you. taeil scowled at the memory of the two of you kissing. he will pay.

it was decided. taeil was going to make you his, one way or another. whether you liked it or not.

“I hate this, taeil.”

taeil nodded, feigning sympathy as you pouted and continued to complain, “doyoung’s been so busy the past week that he hasn’t been able to call me even once. he just sends brief texts… I really miss him.”

“that sucks, y/n, but you know, it’s a very demanding job.”

“yeah I know…but would it kill him to at least call to say good night?” you sighed, sipping your tea. “whatever. thank you so much for listening to my rant, taeil, I really appreciate it. you’re an awesome friend.”

the word stung, but taeil tried not to show it as he smiled and promised you that he didn’t mind. which was half true. taeil could never get tired of listening to you talk about any topic but one - kim doyoung, your boyfriend. it didn’t really matter, though. soon, taeil would make sure that you would forget all about that piece of shit. soon, moon taeil would be the only thing on your mind, just like how you were the only thing on his min

but first he had to punish you. you deserved it. if you hadn’t gone and dated another man, he wouldn’t have considered such a thing. you needed to be disciplined. you belonged to taeil and he was going to make sure that you remembered that fact. so he sat there in front of you, politely nodding as you vented about your boyfriend, and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

“I know I’m complaining about him a lot, but I really like doyoung,” you laughed. “even though he took me to a barbecue place for our first date.”

that’s when a lightbulb went off in taeil’s brain.

for someone who couldn’t survive without eating brains, taeil sure was an idiot. somehow, he’d gotten roped into a dinner date with you, doyoung and doyoung’s sister, jisoo. at least he managed to convince you to let him host the dinner at his apartment, insisting that he wanted to make a good first impression on jisoo. you’d wiggled your eyebrows and teased him about it but he knew, deep down, setting him up with someone else was hurting you. but you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding your feelings for much longer - taeil would soon relieve you of your misery. ideally of course, he wouldn’t want to start off your relationship with a double date with other people. not to mention your little punishment, but hey, all relationships have their ups and downs.

now if he could just get that pesky little jisoo out of the way.

after briefly stalking doyoung’s instagram account, taeil managed to find jisoo’s account and figured out where she worked. getting her to stay away was easier than he thought it would be. all he had to do was press a small knife against her neck and she was begging for him to leave her alone. he left her trembling in the alley behind her office, with her tears stinging the small cut that ran down the side of her cheek. he wasn’t worried about her telling her brother since that’s who he’d be visiting next.

he had to say, out of all the humans he’d made dishes out of, doyoung was certainly the best. probably because his meat was actually fresh, but you really seemed to enjoy him as well.

“god taeil, your spaghetti is wonderful. I can’t believe doyoung and jisoo are missing out,” you nearly moaned as you devoured your dinner. “these are the best vegan meatballs I’ve ever had. seriously, how’d you make this?”

taeil shrugged, “I used a pretty basic recipe, although I did use something extra special for those meatballs.”

“would you mind sharing what that special thing is, master moon?”

taeil’s smile dropped, his expression completely serious now. you didn’t think much of it, taeil was probably just being dramatic. however his tone as he spoke his next sentence sent a chill down your spine.

“enough dilly-dallying. tell me, sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with dating another man?”

you were too stunned to speak, what the fuck did he just say?

“woah, don’t get shy now. did you seriously think you could go be someone else's whore and I wouldn’t get mad?”

“taeil, what on earth are you talking about?”

you looked like a scared and helpless little rabbit and taeil would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel some type of way. taeil’s predatory gaze burned into your eyes, ensnaring you and refusing to let go. you were confused. why was taeil behaving like this? why was he so angry with you? but you were certain about one thing: tonight was not going to end well for you.

with a gentle voice, you tried to calm him down so the two of you could have a rational conversation but taeil wasn’t having any of it. he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you up to your feet, stepping away from the dining table and pulling you close till your chest brushed against his. suddenly, his steely gaze slightly softened.

“y/n, my love, I hope you know that I didn’t want to do this to you, but you left me no choice. you forced my hand.”

tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. taeil was getting frustrated. you knew exactly what he was talking about yet you were acting as though taeil was speaking in cryptic messages. taeil noticed your tears and tsked, cupping your cheeks. there was no point in you crying now. the deed was done. taeil was hoping you’d learnt your lesson so the two of you could move past this.

“don’t cry, sweetheart. at least, not until you know what I did.”

“but taeil, I don’t even know what I’ve done,” you sniffed lightly.

“darling, I love you. and I know you love me too, you don’t need to say it. but why did you have to go and date doyoung? do you know how much that hurt me?”

you shook your head, “taeil, I really didn’t know how you felt. but I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”

taeil glared and tightened his grip on your jaw, “fucking lies! that dickhead doyoung has brainwashed you. oh my precious y/n, I feel so awful for punishing you the way I did, but how else will I fix you?��

“what do you mean?” you asked, afraid of the answer he was going to give you.

“those vegan meatballs, darling. although I suppose the term ‘doyoung meatballs’ would be more accurate.”

your beautiful features were twisted into a look of pure horror as realisation dawned upon you. taeil couldn’t help but let his lips form a maniacal grin. he was rather proud, even if he did say so himself. doyoung would never be a problem ever again. nor would anyone else be, for that matter. taeil knew that you were his good, obedient little y/n. you wouldn’t dare to hurt him ever again. satisfied, he leaned in and forced you into a kiss. you were too shocked to fight back.

as he pulled away, he pushed the hair out of your face.

“remember to behave yourself, darling.”

#nct 127 #nct #moon taeil #nct taeil #nct writings #nct fics #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 x reader #moon taeil x reader #taeil x reader #taeil angst #yandere!nct #yandere au #zombie au #nct au #yandere!taeil #nct horror

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undyingskies · 4 years ago

Text

Snow Day Firsts

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this one! I had a lot of fun writing this one! I am such an Owen Joyner stan that all my ideas for imagines are for him! I would happily take requests or ideas from anyone and for any of the JATP characters or cast members! Also I would love some mutuals, anyways enjoy! xoxo

Warnings: None, just fluff!

________________________________________

“You know, it does scare me that you just have your phone right above my face and you haven’t stopped staring at if for the last 20 minutes. What if your hand falls asleep and you drop it on my face?” You laugh as you hear the words escape from the boy who’s head is in your lap.

You quickly lock your phone and set it beside you on the couch, making eye contact with the cute blue eyed boy who’s already looking up at you. Your free hand still running through his blonde locks.

“Well Joyner, do you have a better idea of what to do? It’s about 20 degrees outside!”

“I like when you call me Joyner.” That’s all you get back from Owen before he turns back and stares at the tv. He’s always making random comments and then quickly moving on to whatever else he pleases.

You’ve gotten used to days like this recently. You met Owen a few months back, your family is from Canada and you were visiting them in their small Canadian town. One day they decided they wanted to show you Toronto, you’d never been and you thought it would be fun. You quickly feel in love with the city and never wanted to leave.

You were actually visiting family because a month before you decided to switch to college online, feeling really lost and without a purpose so you thought some time with family in a place you always loved would do you good. Little did you know that you’d fall in love with Toronto and decide to stay until the New Year. And that’s when you met Mr. Owen Patrick Joyner.

You were out one day, just a few days after you had finally settled into your apartment and decided it was a good idea to go for a walk to find some coffee. Well, you were wrong. It got dark way quicker than you expected and you had no clue where you were.

You were wondering the streets until you saw a group of some guys and girls. They looked like they knew what they were doing or so you thought. You approached them asking for some help.

When you got to them, you quickly realized they were all actually arguing over where to go. Before you could turn around to leave, they had already noticed you and all eyes were on you.

Before you knew it, you were introduced to the whole group, Charlie, Jeremy, Carolynn, Madi, Savannah, Tori, and Owen, and they had you wrapped up in their argument and along for the ride before you could even blink twice. While trying to find where they were going and you lived, you came to find out you lived across the street from Owen and Charlie, the opposite apartment building. You were able to end the night making some new friends and safely in your new home.

You had hit it off with all of them, but something about Owen was special. You started spending their days off with them when they weren’t filming, had movie nights with them, and went to nights out with them as well. The whole time sparks flying between you and Owen. No one was shy to point it out either.

It took about a month of hanging out every week and texting almost every day before Owen finally asked you out on a date. Now here you are almost 3 weeks later.

He still hasn’t made a move yet either, it’s something you and Savannah constantly talk about. You don’t want to be too pushy about it but you were feeling frustrated. Every time it felt like it was the moment, that he would finally kiss you, something interrupted the moment or he was quick to turn and change subjects.

The closest you guys got was this, his head in your lap with your fingers combing through his hair or your head on his chest while you guys cuddled up watching movies or hanging out. You did enjoy this of course but you couldn’t stop yourself from questioning why he hasn’t kissed you yet or made you guys official.

“You look pretty cute when you got your face all scrunched up like that in thought, Y/N.” Yet again Owen pulls you from your thoughts, this time sitting up and facing you.

“What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just kinda thinking about random things, ya know.” You say trying to brush the topic away.

“Oooo what kind of random things?” He asks inquisitively, leaning forward to rest his head on his arm.

“I was just thinking about when I first met the group, it’s been pretty great getting to know everyone. I feel pretty lucky.”

“Getting to know everyone? Or getting to know me?” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Ya know I was thinking more getting to know Savannah and Charlie. No one has ever met me on my level of pranks until them.” You say hoping to get a reaction out of him, especially because he was the last one you guys pranked.

“Oh really? Just Charlie and Savannah?? Alright then.” He says going to turn away from you, but you grab his arm to keep him from doing it.

“What can I say Joyner? They just get me!” You say laughing watching his face, you know he thought you would take it back or say something nice.

Before you know it, he’s on top of you tickling every inch of you that he could get too. Shrieks start leaving your mouth, you couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard.

“O...O....OWENNN!! Stooooppp, I can’t breath.” You say laughing hard trying to shove his hands way. You get a quick swipe of his hands and he drops chest to chest losing his balance.

You guys both breathing hard but not saying a word. Just straight up eye contact, a small smile graces both your lips. You feel him bring his hand up to brush your hair out of your face, he drops it slowly letting his fingers brush against your lips. You suck in a breath, looking back into his eyes. You can see him leaning in, his warm breath against your cheeks.

Is this the moment? It’s finally going to happen? He’s finally going to make his move and kiss you. And then-

“Guys!!! It’s snowing look! It’s finally snowing!” Charlie comes yelling into the living room running full speed. Startling both you and Owen, causing Owen to fall off the couch.

You didn’t think twice, you ran right to the window next to Charlie jumping with giddy. You’d never seen snow before, you were born and raised in California. Instead of snow season, you got fire season.

You always wanted to see snow, you dreamed of it. It always looked so peaceful and magical, something about snow just always made you feel warm inside and you didn’t know why.

“I appreciate the help and concern you guys.” Owen says sarcastically before joining the two of you at the window. He can’t help but smile when he sees the glimmer in your eyes looking at the snow. You had talked to him about snow before and how you always dreamed of seeing it.

“You know Y/N, we could go outside and see it.” A giant smile graces your face and you look up at him. If his smile could get bigger in that moment it would because of the look on your face.

“Really? I know you’ve said you think it’s too cold…”

“I think your first time in the snow is a good enough reason to brave the cold! Let’s go get our sweaters on. Charlie you joining us?” Owen asks while grabbing your hand to take you to get your warm clothes on.

“Nah dude, as much as I love the snow, I’ve seen it my whole life and I’m not really in the mood to get all bundled up.” Charlie says while waving to you guys going back to his room.

You quickly get everything warm on you can, hoping the faster you moved, the faster Owen would so you could get outside. You’re almost running out there once you’re both ready.

As the doors open a giant gust of cold wind hits you, making you stop in your tracks. You look around at the snow. It’s falling from the sky, leaving little flakes in your hair and on your clothes. The ground is already covered in a layer of it. You can’t believe it’s real! Before you could take in the peacefulness of it any longer you’re hit upside the head with something cold.

You turn to your side, seeing Owen facing you with a wide smile, laughing at the look on your face. He just threw a snowball at you and before you could get over it, he threw another one at you, laughing! He’s quick to start grabbing more snow.

“Oh it’s on Joyner.” You laugh while collecting up snow. You launch what one would call a pathetic snowball in his direction. He laughs at your attempt before hitting you head on with another one.

You laugh some more while trying to get a better snowball together. This time with the launch of your arm, it hits Owen right in the face. The look he makes could make you pee from laughing so hard.

“You’re gonna be sorry for that one Y/N!” He says laughing whole running in your direction.

You let out a shriek and start running away from him. You can hear his laughing and his feet behind you. You may be fast but he just so happens to be faster. You can feel his hands grab onto the back of your jacket.

You’re quick to turn, trying to loosen his grip on you. Instead of freeing yourself, you lose your balance knocking into Owen. You close your eyes waiting for the impact of the fall but instead you make impact with a puffy chest.

You open your eyes to see that you not only lost your balance but made Owen lose his as well. You landed right on his chest, face to face for the second time today. Belly laughs leaving from the both of you.

He looks so beautiful. His cheeks and nose just slightly pinker then usual because of the cold, he has snowflakes that got tangled up in his eyelashes, and the blue of his eyes just look that much bluer due to the bright lighting of the snow. You can’t help but stare into them, as your laugh dies off. Not knowing that he’s thinking the exact same thing as you, he thought you never looked prettier than you did in this moment right now.

“Hi.” He says looking up at you, breaking the silence.

“Oh hello Joyner.” You say with a small laugh, going to lift yourself up from his body.

Before you could lift yourself up, you feel his arms tighten around your waist, keeping you in place and his lips on yours. Yours eyes widen at the contact, but slowly drop as your lips start to move in sync together. He has your bottom lip between his two, and nothing has ever felt as perfect as his lips on yours.

You slowly pull apart, but leave two small pecks on each other’s lips before you do. The kiss leaves you breathless and with butterflies in your stomach.

“Be my girlfriend.” You hear him say.

“I’m sorry what?”

“You heard me, be my girlfriend! I’ve been waiting so long to do that and now I want you to be my girlfriend not that I didn’t want you to be my girlfriend before but I was just nervous because I suck at making moves and I-“

You cut off his nervous rambling with your lips on his. This time you feel his lips melt into yours. You can’t help but let a big smile take over your face, you’ve been waiting what feels like forever for this and you can’t believe it’s here. Owen looks up at you mimicking your smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He asks you while laughing.

You nod your head yes enthusiastically, almost too enthusiastic. At the motion Owen is quick to pull you in for another kiss.

He pulls away and you almost feel bare from not having his lips on yours. You’re also suddenly colder than you remember being, a shiver taking over your whole body. Owen noticing, he’s quick to push you off and help you get up.

He grabs your hand and starts to lead you back into the apartment to escape the cold.

“Wait...” You say and he turns to look at you to give you a questioning look.

You pull him a little closer and stand on your toes to reach up to him. You press your lips against his, taking in the feeling of his lips and the snow falling around you. Nothing has ever felt more perfect.

“I just wanted to do that one last time.” You say with a smile. Owen smiles down at you, squeezing your hips before leading you inside.

You make your way inside thinking today’s firsts could have not been more perfect. Maybe snow was just as magical as you always thought it was.

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner imagine #owenjoynerimagines #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen joyner fic #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner fluff #julie and phantoms #alexjatp #jatp

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chil2de · 4 years ago

Note

How are you today? If its alright with you, can I request a Atsumu x fem reader where she has a super tomboy style and ALWAYS wears baggy clothes, but one day atsumu comes over to hang out and the only outfit she has left is kinda a tight fitting shirt and for the first time ever Atsumu realizes just how curvy his girlfriend is

sorry if thats to specific! feel free to ignorethis!

warning - miya atsumu x reader

hiii! i’m doing okay anonie, thank you and i hope u are faring well!!! so um this ended up being a LOT longer than i expected pls forgive me it was supposed to be a cute lil drabble but now its like uh 2k words aJdhfhhd, i really loved this idea!!! don’t worry ab it being too specific i actually like that and it helps give me a general idea about the req

well whilst this isn’t tooooo nsfw there are a few small themes in the beginning + swearing since i write atsumu like that and implications of sexual content ig at the end but aside from that? just some fluff for our fav king. characters are aged up and i am unsure how it would work but call it anime logic and enjoy! thanks for requesting! (okay rereading the ending is lowkey smut why am i like this)

“b-cup.” atsumu huffed with confidence. he took a large swig out of his water bottle, nodding his head wisely in affirmation.

“really? i’d say c-cup.” suna chimed in, his half-lidded gaze narrowing.

“nah, it’s b-cup”

“what the hell are you two talking about?” osamu interjected, concern and disgust thick on his features as he came over carrying a few towels.

“(y/n)’s bra size” suna nonchalantly responded, his eyes flicking up for a few seconds as he accepted the towel from osamu.

“‘tsumu i knew you were messed in the head but, suna? have you caught his germs?”

“fuck are you making it sound like i have some viral disease?”

“you don’t?” suna snorted, plopping down onto the floor to sit cross-legged.

“why don’t you just ask her?” osamu’s gaze flickered onto yours from across the court. you felt your ears burn from the way the three of them were staring at you.

was something on your face?

a bug? dirt?

“huh? like i’m supposed to say, hey baby girl, what size are your tits?”

“i’m still saying b-cup”

“c-cup”

“i think b-cup” osamu joined in, watching atsumu screw his face at him

“you goddamn hypocrite-“ “who’s being a hypocrite?” kita inquired with a half-hushed tone, making his way over with a few protein bars

“oh my god i’m going home” atsumu groaned, resting his palms on his knees as he stood up. he beelined towards you, his exhaustion painted his lazy smile beautifully. he still had the energy to turn around over his shoulder and flip his middle finger up at his team whilst his right hand snaked around to your waist.

somewhere around your waist. it took him a little bit of digging through all the fabric.

it didn’t matter to him, though. as much of a jackass as he might’ve been, he never judged you for the way you dressed. even if it meant that sometimes you looked a lil bit homeless, at the end of the day- he still had that glimmer in his eyes whenever he saw you.

you would be his favourite baby girl, no matter what.

“is that my shirt you’re wearing?” he hummed, glancing down to look at it.

it was, in fact, one of his shirts. it was matte black in colour, with a small dip that would showcase atsumu’s collar bones. it was a little bit faded from the many wash cycles it endured throughout its lifetime, but he would always notice the small tear in the bottom right section of the fabric.

“sorryyy, i know you just washed it but it smelled so nice. also, wow, did you put on deodorant? you actually smell like a man it’s kinda creepy”

“i always put on deodorant you dipshit, you’re always crying about how pretty my face looks so your nose doesn’t pick up the scent. it’s verbena citrus, buy your own because i know you’ll try stealing mine so i’m putting a padlock on that shit.” atsumu scoffed, digging his fingers into your sides to tickle you as you walked. you squirmed, swatting him away as you dug your hands into the pockets of your joggers. they were not atsumu’s, unfortunately, for you found out the hard way that you would literally have to drag the excess fabric behind you like some train dress or bundle it up and fold it, which, in retrospect- did not look too aesthetically pleasing. you settled for your own joggers and favourite high-top sneakers to match.

“you know you’ll say all this but give me your deodorant anyway, right?” you stuck your tongue out at him. he rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair.

“hey.” he called out, causing you to direct your attention towards him.

he nudged your arm with his elbow.

oh.

“give it here.”

you uncurled your left hand out of your pocket, zipping it up to make sure the contents inside didn’t spill. atsumu slid his right hand away from your waist and opened his palm up, intertwining his fingertips between yours into a tight lock. he grazed his thumb over the back of your hand, giving you a small squeeze.

“that was the cheesiest and most corniest thing you’ve done and i hated it” you made a mock gagging sound, averting your gaze.

you could feel the blush fresh on your cheeks, heart pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

“wait, you thought i was holding your hand because we’re dating? i’m just doing it because i know your dumbass would get lost” atsumu snorted, throwing his head back in laughter.

well,

you could still see the light blush tinting his cheeks. and it wasn’t the sunset.

“mmm, should i wear this one- wait-“ you grabbed the shirt, folding it upwards as you took a small whiff. well,, you did wear it yesterday… yeah, you did put it in the laundry basket,,, no, it didn’t smell toooo bad, but..

you groaned, tossing it back into said basket as you furrowed your brows in concentration.

you heard the doorbell ring which only caused you to panic even further. you just needed a shirt. literally any shirt. you were about to cut your freaking pants out and sew them together to another pair for a shirt.

since it was a friday, you had atsumu walk you halfway home. you only lived a street away from him, and the apartment was conveniently built on a fork between the road down to his house and the supermarket. hence, he dropped you off and went to the store all by himself like a responsible adult to grab some snacks for the weekend.

“it’s open!” you called out, leaning your jaw back as you shouted in hopes for your voice to travel further.

in that moment, just in the corner of your eye- you saw a familiar flash of black.

you swooped the fabric up, quietly humming in pleasure when it smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener.

you lifted the shirt over your head, struggling to pull it down for a few seconds.

you admired yourself briefly in the mirror.

it was a casual t-shirt. it reached down to the middle portion of your arms, though it was significantly less baggy than all of your other clothes. you liked to sleep in it during hot and stuffy summer nights, but rarely found yourself using it otherwise.

it’s not like you didn’t like these kinds of shirts.

but when given the option to look “stylish” or comfortable, who wouldn’t pick comfortable? that’s what was important to you above all. clothes that made you feel like you were constantly in bed were a godsend from the heavens.

“hey dipshit, i spent twenty minutes jumping stores for you but no one sold any (favourite drink) so i got you-“ atsumu halted in his steps, the grocery bags curled around his fists were suddenly forgotten and discarded as he caught sight of you through the doorframe.

you were clad in a pair of old white shorts and a black t-shirt, complimentary of the fact that everything else was currently in the laundry machine. atsumu could outline every single damn crevice and dip on you, and he burned that shit so deep into his retinas that he would still see it when his eyes were closed.

he felt his breath hitch, something deep inside him resonating, growing feral like hunger.

he still stood by what he said,

baggy clothes or not, you were beautiful.

but he wasn’t expecting this

“so you bought what?” you inquired, twisting your torso halfway to greet him as you finished brushing through some knots in your hair at the vanity.

“huh?”

“you said there wasn’t any (favourite drink) so you got what? did you fall and crack your head open on the way here? cause it looks like it”

you could feel your heart squeeze, body temperature increased twofold as icy hot waves wracked every inch of your skin. there was a cold sweat that rolled down the back of your knees.

“shut the hell up, i hate you” atsumu grumbled, forcing himself to turn away from you and stomp off to the kitchen with a pout.

“jesus christ give me strength i hate this woman, where the hell does she get off thinking she can get away with looking so good like that” atsumu mumbled incoherent curses underneath his breath, shakily unloading everything he bought out onto the counter and stuffing the groceries into cabinets and the fridge.

“‘samu, i hate you but dude i need twin telepathy, give me strength so i don’t deck this woman right here right now” he cursed, gritting his teeth. his self-control was about to fly out the window.

“you okay?” you popped your head through the door, leaning into the kitchen.

he could see the outline of your prominent collarbones, the way the shirt still fell a little bit and hung loosely off of your frame. he could see the start of your stomach.

god, it should’ve been illegal the way he wanted to grab your thighs. he wondered for a second what it would look like with his fingerprints etched into your skin there.

“want a few tissues and some lotion?” you snorted, nestling up beside him to help. you gazed at him, watching him keep his eyes narrowed on the packet of pistachios he was fumbling with.

you thought it was cute.

“listen- if you’re not ready yet then i’d suggest that you find something else to wear cause holy shit if you don’t get away from me right now i swear i will not restrain myself-“

“i’m ready” you hummed, giving him an innocent smile. you toyed with your hands behind your back, fiddling with them as butterflies swept your abdomen.

atsumu snorted, eyebrows creasing in confusion. he turned to face you, setting the pistachios down.

“alright i’m not saying this to boost my ego, but, what did you say?”

“i said i’m ready”

you watched his brain stir, gears ticking and turning like clockwork.

atsumu let out a low sigh.

“yeah, yeah. well, then.”

his right hand slammed against the wall, caging you in. he leaned into you, looming over you as his half-lidded eyes burned holes inside your soul. you felt the air tense and switch around him, carnal desires swirling behind his gaze. his chest was so close to yours, practically flush, save for the tiniest gap. you could literally feel his heart hammering.

he was so invasive, so close, yet so respectful. he still kept his distance, just n case you changed your mind.

“are you sure this is what you want?” his voice was hot and slick against the shell of your ear, voice husky and octaves deeper. you could feel the sexual tension dripping from him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against him.

“i’m sure, ‘tsumu.”

a loud chuckle ripped from the depths of his chest. it was so hearty, and fuck, it made you clench.

atsumu swooped you up all in one swift motion, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he shoved you against the counter. he sent everything clattering and thudding in the process.

“don’t say i didn’t warn you, doll.”

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