#How Long Should I Wait To Get Back With My Ex Wonderful Cool Ideas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kkusuka · 4 years ago

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I’m so proud I’ve been here long before 2k💁🏼‍♀️ N E WAY CONGRATSSSSS!!!

Can I have fluff 16 with a twist tho, like “My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." with Gojou, Fushiguro, Itadori and a fem reader? If 3 characters are way to many you can keep only Gojou. Keep being amazinggg<3

thank you so much!! <3

Gn!Pronouns, but you are implied to be female!

Cw: an itsy bitsy hint of angst, slight confessions, reader panics,

a/n: these were almost criminally fun to write, I love these three so much

Gojou Satoru

Words: 700

You had no idea how a simple piece of paper could make you feel. Awkward, confusion, shock, all from one note that you thought was a bill.

‘Y/n L/n save the date!’ was the last thing you had expected, from your ex-boyfriend nonetheless. The same guy who dated you for a whole three years before telling you over text that it wasn’t going to work out.

Well, the both of you never had a bad relationship after, but you were a severe level of butthurt. But what made you really freeze was the plus one invitation, if you showed up to your ex’s wedding you would look like a loser.

Since you were clearly going, you’d never miss on free food and a chance to have a day off, you needed an outfit and a date. The outfit was pretty easy to figure out, you’d go shopping on the weekend and buy something then.

But someone to go with? You had about three friends whom you knew could not afford any days off and that you just didn't want to take. (at least you had some last resorts) Then, another problem, if they weren’t part of the Jujutsu world it would be harder to explain if you had to abruptly leave, which was a huge possibility this time of year.

With that, your options were cut down to two- Nanami and...Gojou, of all people.

Obviously, you tried, emphasis on tried, Nanami first. But after 24 missed calls and a 15-second conversation where he basically told you to shove it, you were in full-on panic mode. The wedding was in three days and you had to do something about your inevitable loneliness.

You had to get over yourself, the worst Gojo could do was make fun of you or say no. But, he never passes up the opportunity for sweets, just lay on the dessert y/n!

“To what do I owe this sweet phone call Y/n? Confessing your love for yours truly?” his voice laughed through the line. You just had to ask him in a way that would compel him to want to come with you.

“My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." you blurt not even thinking about the words falling from your lips.

You come to realize your words from the ringing silence in your ears, “I’m sorry I just-”

“I’ll come” he answered, cutting off your apologies. He’ll come, you didn't even have to say anything about sugar or bribe him into coming.

“You’ll come? Really? Why-wait Thank you! It’s on Saturday at 3 pm, we can go together if that makes things better! Thank you so much, you just saved me Gojo! How can I make it up to you!” you were just spouting whatever you could to thank him, listening to his daughter from his side.

“Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my little Sugar? You can make it up to me by wearing your prettiest little dress so we’ll be the hottest couple at the wedding.” he teased, continuing ranting about how you should match colors to add ‘flare’.

“While we’re there we can start planning our own wedding! Doesn’t that sound fun Sugar!”

Fushiguro Megumi

Words: 700

“What even is that” Megumi’s voice rang through the office hallway. You’d like to know too, you haven’t spoken to anyone from your hometown, save for our family, since you moved away six years ago.

“I’m not totally sure, you want to open it with me?” you question opening the door to your office as he silently follows you in.

Settling the rest of the mail down, you take a closer look at the suspicious envelope noticing the name on the return address. There's no way! Why the hell was your ex sending you things to your official workspace?

“What’s wrong? Is it bad?” Megumi doesn't know what to do, your face went pale and you looked super confused.

“Oh, nothing really. I’m just surprised, it’s from my ex” well now he was frozen, was it a love letter? Why was he sending you stuff, he just hoped that it wasn't bad, you had enough on your plate and you didn’t need more.

Opening the envelope to see flower patterns and script lettering; you know exactly what this letter will be telling you. Just as you suspect a date plastered on the card along with two all familiar names flood your senses.

“He’s getting married!” you couldn't believe it, why would he invite his high school ex to his wedding, it was an odd choice, to say the least.

“That’s cool I guess, anyway I gotta go, have fun,” he murmured leaving the room and letting to wonder if you were even going to show up in the first place, but at the moment you send an email and reserve a spot for yourself and admittedly a plus one that didn’t exist.

You would figure it out in due time!

❍❍❍

You did not figure anything out and the wedding was tomorrow. No one in their right mind would drop everything to come to some random wedding. Your point proved when Itadori explained he had plans to go see a movie marathon with Jumpei that he just couldn’t cancel.

Not even Nobara would spare you some mercy, she and Maki were having a pre-planned girls' day, one that you would be going to if you hadn't agreed to go to some random wedding.

Now you could only pray that Mehgumi felt enough pity that he would go with you. Deciding that a call would be too impersonal and would be easier to say no over, you make your way to his apartment with a box of dumplings that you knew he loved.

“Gumi-chan? Open up please!” you knocked on the door waiting for him to come, him appearing a few seconds later; hair messy in sweatpants and a black tank-top. No- this isn’t about his body, it could be, but you had to get this settled first.

“Uh? Did I miss something? Why are you here?” his questions break you from your stare as you shove the food in his arms, gathering all the courage you could muster.

“These are for you and all you need to do is hear me out, please? I would really like you too!” you beg, watching as he silently commanded for you to continue.

“As you know, my ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." you kept your head low as you explained to him what had happened, “I really need you to do this for me, I'll give you anything I swear! Just help me this once!”

“Why do you need me?” he mumbled, commanding your attention back onto his face.

“Because it’ll be fun and you need to get out.” ‘and this is my way of asking you out but not asking you at the same time’ goes unsaid.

“Fine, but you have to come to dinner with me the next time my dad asks.” that was it you, ultimatum, an easy one too.

“Deal! Now we have to match or it’ll look stupid, and we have to practice dancing and-”

“Dear Lord, what did I get into”

Itadori Yuji

Words: 600

You’d pinned the invitation above your bed as a constant reminder that you had to do something.

Not that you cared what your ex thought of you at their wedding, but something deep inside wanted to show him that you were happy without him.

And the only way to do that was to shove a hot guy down his throat; better yet, a totally hot guy that was into you. Now all you needed was a hot guy to be into you.

Well, you had a hot guy to go with you. In a desperate plea, you had asked your good friend Itadori, formally known as the vessel of another somewhat friend Sukuna, and he had agreed.

Just thinking about it made you cringe a bit; you had been freaking out and ran to his apartment, drenched in rain.

“My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see," you explained frantically, waving your hands. Watching his face contort into every human emotion you could think of, before spreading into a smile.

“Of course I’ll come with you! It sounds like a blast!” of course Sukuna had a few choice words to say about that, something along the lines of, ‘you're not dragging me to some stupid event because you're lonely! I refuse!”

And he continued to complain throughout the night of planning and the next morning when you told him he was going whether he wanted to or not and he told you he’d rather die.

“This Wench will not dictate my life!” he spoke through a mouth on Yuji’s cheek, eye slit glaring in your direction.

“And I’m not letting some lame demon tell me what I can and can’t do with my friend!” you argued back.

But he didn't have a say anyway.

Now you were standing before a mirror, admiring how your dress wrapped around your body, waiting for Itadori to come to the door.

Hearing the knocks on your door, you grab a small bag and your invitations and your plus one, opening the door to Yuji in a three-piece black suit, staring at you with wide eyes.

“You look great-”

“You look crazy beautiful-”

Both of you freeze at the word mix-up, then breaking into laughter as you loop your arm through his outstretched one.

“Seriously you look great, y/n. You have that guy wishing he’d never let you go! Wait then you wouldn’t be with me, so just make him miss you a bit but not too much!” he stammered out as you continued your way to his car.

“You are the worst two humans in existence.”

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reidsnose · 4 years ago

Text

Black Eye

overview: reader and spencer go to reader's highschool reunion as a fake couple

genre: fluff i think

warnings: mild violence and swearing, a guy being kind of a total creep, and mentions of bullying

a/n: idk if its any good again just love the idea but it was inspired by a dream i had last night (thank you temporal lobe) so yeah let me know what yall think !! :) also im posting this at like ass oclock in the morning so whoops

masterlist

you and spencer had gotten yourselves in quite the situation.

your dreaded highschool reunion was just around the corner and you made the mistake of complaining about it to penelope. she was always trying to make everyones life easier (and more interesting) so when she heard you had no date she took it upon herself to find you one.

it didn't take a lot of looking, none at all actually; because Penelope had already been trying to figure out ways to get you and Reid together.

you two were undeniably perfect for each other. you were an amazing team at work, you hung out alone all the time (though both of you denied these hang out as being dates, Garcia had her own ideas on this), and you were both very obliviously head over heels for each other.

and somehow, through the magical ways of Penelope Garcia, you and Spencer were now sitting in the parking lot, fake married for your high school reunion.

"do we need to go over our back story again?" you worried, looking up at him.

"our backstory is basically all true anyway we just fall in love after a little bit. and i have an eidetic memory so i remember; you're my wife you should know this!" he joked, trying to relax you. "we got this! we're gonna be so married!"

Spencer had actually never been this nervous in his life but he was trying to be brave for you. it would be more embarrassing for you both to show up like nervous wrecks than if you had just come alone. he was just happy to get to be fake married to you.

"the marriedest!" smiled, fist bumping him.

"now lets go make some people jealous!" he chuckled getting out of the car and jogging over to your side, opening your door before you got the chance to; like a true gentleman.

you stuck out your hand which he happily took into his, neither of you commenting on the redness you both had sprinkled across your cheeks. as you walked in, you saw all the people you dreaded seeing.

the boys who tormented you were balding and the girls who made sure you felt awful everyday had wrinkles riddling there skin. you were surrounded by botched botox and bleached blonde to cover graying hair. you felt terrible to admit it, but you were a little happy to see that their beauty had faded like this; they made their looks their whole personality in high school, you couldn't help but wonder what was left for them to be. not that it mattered, but you and Spencer were undeniably the most attractive couple there.

you actually had an ok time, you had spotted a few of your friends that you hadn't seen in quite a few years and it was nice to catch up.

Spencer had wondered a bit, but not too far, he was talking to some guys who used to be in science club when you were younger. you smiled at the thought of what they might be talking about.

"y/n! hey youve really filled out!" you heard a gruff voice from behind you.

you turned around and were met with the very unappealing face of the ex quarterback. Spencers attention had been caught at the sound of your name.

"um..hello," you muttered, trying to covertly back away from him.

"i see youve got a ring, interesting i dont remember us getting married!" he said in an incredibly creepy tone.

"do you know im a federal agent now?" you said through a gritted smile.

spencer had already begun walking towards you, he could tell something was off.

"ill tell you what sweetheart," he put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him, "you can put me in handcuffs any day."

you threw his hand off of you and drew back your fist, but were cut off before you could deliver the punch but his hand engulfing your own, and squeezing.

"THATS MY WIFE!" spencer yelled in a voice you had never heard from him before.in the blink of an eye he was standing between in front of him. "do not ever talk to her like that, let alone lay a finger on her or so help me God i will-"

"what beanpole? what are you gonna do? what if i did this?" the man asked.

and then he sent a swift punch to Spencer's face.

thats gonna leave a mark.

in a matter of seconds, Spencer had him overpowered, laying face first on the floor with his hands uncomfortably angled behind him, completely helpless.

"now i'm going to let you go and you're going to walk out of here unharmed. if you try anything like that again, ill let my wife handle you. and i promise if she gets a hold of you, you'll be a dead son of a bitch." Spencer muttered in the mans ear, gruffly pulling him up by his collar and shoving him towards the door.

"were leaving." you said, grabbing Spencer's hand, trying to ignore how incredibly attractive he looked right now.

"babe if you want to stay we can stay," he offered as if he didn't just have his shit kicked in by a coward with misogynistic tendencies.

"honey, i want to take you home," you smiled, liking the way it felt to call him a pet name. you walked into the parking lot, "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking this guy is trying to hurt you and i was not going to ever let that happen." he answered confidently as you two reached the car. "plus this totally made the marriage thing more believable. i wouldn't get a black eye for just anyone."

"thank you. i'm sorry you got punched trying to protect me." you sighed, feeling incredibly awful about the whole thing.

he chuckled, "id do it again."

you fought hard against the blush creeping up your face.

"i gotta say, the black eye really suits you. you look pretty badass." you chuckled, trying to change the subject before it got too sappy and you said something you shouldn't.

"maybe it should just be my new look," he joked, looking down at a ping from his phone. "uh oh."

"we have a case?" you asked.

"yep. and hotch wants us in the office asap which means we cont stop by either of our houses." he sighed before starting the car.

the drive was mostly silent. but a comfortable silence. Spencer thought about how in the moment, he didn't care how many punches the guy threw at him, as long as it meant you were ok, he was willing to take it. he knew he loved you far before that moment but that truly solidified it.

at the same time you were thinking of how quickly your time as a 'married couple' was over. it felt so right to call Spencer yours. so unexplainably perfect for the two of you to be together. if only your time wasn't cut short by a sucker punch.

you neared the building's parking lot. you looked over at Spencer who you could very easily tell was lost in his own world.

"whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" you asked, causing him to stifle a smile.

"just thinking." he answered.

"what about?"

"us." he stated, pulling into his parking spot.

oh. oh.

"do tell."

he hesitated, "if i tell you, and you disagree, do you promise it wont change anything about us?"

"i promise."

"did it feel right to you? us being together?" he asked, his eyes innocent and filled to the brim with a mixture of anxiety and adoration as he looked at you.

"yes. it absolutely did. and i was so mad at the assclown for cutting our time short," you admitted, "and punching you in the eye, obviously."

"i- i'm not sure how to ask this but- do you...would you..sorry i-" he stammered.

"yes."

you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. his hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss and you both felt like you were on cloud nine.

"thats exactly what i was trying to say," he cracked a dopey smile, causing you to chuckle.

"i've been trying to say it for so long." you confessed, causing him to smile impossibly wider, "we gotta go hotch is waiting."

"just one more kiss?" he asked, which you gave in to, obviously. and then another. and another.

maybe it was good thing that he got a black eye that day, because when you got to the office the whole team was so focused on it they didn't even notice the hint of your lipstick left on spencers lips.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #garcia #penelope garcia #morgan #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #fluff #hotch #prentiss #jj #rossi #cm #bau #bau x reader

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly.

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking.

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot.

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment.

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon.

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now.

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway.

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.”

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds.

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims.

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay?

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.”

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks.

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off.

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.”

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line.

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.”

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain.

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him.

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.)

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.”

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you.

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you.

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

#networkbangtan #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #mine

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1800-omi · 3 years ago

Text

when you overhear him say he’s dating you only to make his brother jealous.

characters: miya twins

warnings: female reader, swear words

notes: i didn’t proofread besties sorry if there’s any errors 😔👊🏼

Osamu was walking down the school hallways beside his best friend, Sunarin when the conversation came up. They had been talking about school, then from school, they started talking about classmates then from that the subject changed to partners and dating. When Rintarou found out about his friend, he was obviously happy for him, yet he couldn’t help but wonder why his friend suddenly got into a relationship when he hasn’t shown any interest in dating someone for months. So, he decided to ask.

“So,” he put both his hands behind his head, his elbows pointing up, “Why’d ya do it?”

“Huh?” Osamu looked up at him, “do what?”

“You started dating YN so suddenly. It just seems so out of character for you to do.” He replied, “Or maybe my question should be, how you started dating her? Pretty much every boy in school has had his eyes on her at one point.”

Osamu chuckled at the question. “Well, I’ve got my ways when it comes to flirting and all that. As for why I did it,” a smirk grew on his lips as he thought about it. “Alright, listen, I’m only tellin’ you this ‘cause you’re my best friend, okay?” Rintarou nodded, unsure of what to expect next. “I started dating her because I wanted to make Atsumu jealous. He brags to me about girls he meets all the time, about how much his fangirls love him. The best way I could get back to him is if I started dating the girl every guy around here wanted.”

Suna looked at his friend wide-eyed before letting out a laugh, “oh my God, you’re evil!”

The conversation had kept your boyfriend’s attention away from the fact that while he was talking, he was passing your class. Having just gotten back from your lunch break, you did not expect to be overhearing this conversation. You felt crushed, used. You were ready to open up to him, good thing that you never did. As Osamu and his friend disappeared into the school’s halls, you put your hand over the necklace your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend had given you and made a decision. You would not be suffering over an asshole, not this time, not again.

That afternoon, after all the classes were over, Osamu waited for you at the school gates so you two could walk home together. You met him at the school gates, just like you always do. You two went on about your usual conversations as you walked home, homework, exams, family, anything normal couples talk about. You two soon enough arrived at his house, you walked him to his doorstep and instead of giving him the usual kiss on the lips, you decided to speak up.

“Atsumu’s kind of annoying, isn’t he?” you smiled at your boyfriend, he let out a ‘huh’ in confusion before you proceeded. “He’s always bragging about how girls want him, doesn't it make you want to get back to him in some way?”

With that, a frown appeared on Osamu’s face. Realizing that there was no way he could get out of this situation and still get to call you his, he gave up. “Who told you?” a part of him thought Suna had informed you, then again, he was the only one who knew besides Osamu.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Osamu? Honestly, I’m curious. Just how long did you think you could use me for?”

Hearing your monotone voice made him remember just how much you had done for him during the time he was dating you. Hearing your tone made him realise how much he’d lost, made him realise why everyone wanted to be with you in the first place. Most of all, it made him remember why when he first saw you, for a moment, he fell for you too. “Listen, YN, maybe I can make it up–”

“Oh, fuck off! You won’t make up shit.” you grabbed the necklace he had gifted you and ripped it off your neck, throwing it on the grass of the Miya family’s front yard. “You’ll have to find someone else to play your games with because we’re done, Miya. Please don’t talk to me again.” You turned around, feeling as if the heaviest weight has been lift off your chest. You finally feel at ease as you walk out of Miya’s property and make your way home. That day you left Osamu at his doorstep, you left him feeling broken and full of regret. One might say you left him the way you first met him.

Atsumu had told you he would be going out with his teammate Ginjima that day, what you hadn’t had time to tell him is that you would be going out to the town too.

He walked around the town’s shopping centre with a bubble tea cup in his hand, looking around the various stores. “Did ya know YN actually loves this place?” By the tone of Atsumu voice, it was clear to Gin that Atsumu was about to start another one of his annoying rants. “She always likes coming here with me. She says she likes the atmosphere. It’s classic girl stuff, I guess. Shopping and all that.”

“I don’t blame her, to be honest. There’s some really cool stuff ‘round here.” Ginjima replied, hoping that he would end Atsumu rant like that.

“I guess. She’s kinda annoying sometimes, always dragging me around to do stuff with her. I mean, I didn’t even start dating her because of me, y’know?”

Ginjima looked at Atsumu, what the fuck was he talking about? “No, I don’t know, Atsumu.”

“Oh, well, I actually started dating her because Osamu has a crush on her.” He admitted it so shamelessly as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say, as if he did it every day. Gin didn’t know what to focus on, the fact Atsumu’s playing with this girl or the fact he’s hurting his twin brother’s feelings with it.

“Atsumu, you fucking–”

Ginjima was interrupted by your voice, you had greeted Atsumu and him as you grabbed Atsumu’s arm, smiling up at him. He wasn’t sure where you came from, whereas Atsumu, on the other hand, could recall you had been behind them and they hadn’t noticed until you talked to them.

Atsumu wasn’t sure whether you had heard what he said about you. His heart was beating a little quicker as he opened his mouth to reply. “H-Hey Yn! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Yeah, sorry about that! I forgot to tell you, babe.” You kept on smiling, putting Atsumu at ease. He let out a sigh out of relief, convinced you hadn’t heard them. “What were you two talking about?” You continued.

Before Atsumu could say anything, Ginjima answered for him, “Osamu has a crush apparently. Atsumu decided to tell me his secret like the horrible brother he is.” Gin wasn’t entirely sure why he decided to lie to you, but he wasn’t going to pass on an opportunity to blackmail Atsumu, was he?

“Don’t say than Gin! ‘Tsumu is a great brother and boyfriend!” you exclaimed, making Atsumu even more convinced that you hadn't heard him.

And with that, the went on continued normally. The three of you wandered around the shopping centre before eventually deciding to split up, leaving you and Atsumu to walk home together. He had invited you over to his house, saying he's home alone this weekend. As you entered the house and sat on the couch there was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you. After your boyfriend sat next to you, you finally spoke up about what had been bothering you ever since you saw him at that mall.

“You know that you’re an asshole, right, Atsumu?” he turned his gaze at you, surprised. “Do you have any idea–”

Feeling the need to make up an excuse, Atsumu interrupted you. “Listen, babe–”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me!” you slightly started raising your voice, “You know, I’m glad that you got to go around and tell all your friends about how much of a player you are! While I was busy being called a slut and a whore for dating you!”

“What? Who the fuck was calling you a whore?”

“Your fucking fangirls, Atsumu,” you said his name with such disgust in your voice, and he noticed. “And you would've fucking known if you ever cared enough to listen. I guess I don't blame you for never listening, then again, I was just a little game so that your brother would get jealous.”

“YN, hear me out here, ”

“No, Atsumu, there is nothing for me to hear. We’re done, we’re over.” You weren't sure whether there was anything else to say to him, you didn't want to argue with him either.

“Fuck you, Atsumu Miya,” you said as you got up and stormed out the door.

At that moment, Atsumu had just shaken his head and continued about his day normally. He knew you would found out eventually, so he has promised himself he wouldn't become attached to you. What he didn't know is that he has broken that promise the second you had first kissed his lips, every time he saw you walking down the hallways at school he felt his heart slightly ache, as if it was becoming smaller. When he saw you blushing as his twin brother confessed to you under the big cherry blossom tree at the school’s backyard, he felt the same feeling. Now when he sees you holding his brother's hand, he still feels the same, hurt, aching, and as if his regret is ready to drown him.

reblogs are appreciated <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x yn #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #atsumu miya #miya twins #atsumu drabble #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x self insert #osamu x y/n #atsumu x female reader

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years ago

Note

Howdy! I got an ask/react for the Fo4 companions! How would a romanced companion react to Sole (preferably female) doing things to make them feel 'stronger' or 'protective' over her? Some random examples: Sole "can't" open something and has to ask for help/Sole conveniently forgets her overcoat when she knows it's going to be cold out, etc. the little things :) (Extra thing: you don't have to but if you could go into a bit more depth for Deacon and Hancock's response that'd be great :D )

Okay, this was so. much. fun. I took a few... creative liberties with the prompt, but I hope it’s still in the realm of what you were looking for! And, of course, thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it!

Cait:

Sole pressed a cold cloth to Cait's cheekbone, and she hissed at the pressure of the contact on her swollen cheek.

"Shit, sorry, Cait."

"Eh, I've had worse licks than this."

"I know, but still… this one is definitely my fault."

"It's hardly yer fault, luv, I'm the one who got meself inte this."

"How? I'm the one who started the fight." Sole protested, pulling her hand back so she could look her companion in the eye.

"Maybe, but I'm the one who gave you yer drinkin’ problem, and that's what got us inte the fight in the first place." Sole chuckled at that, shaking her head. The two had had this discussion what seemed like a hundred times, both trying to take the blame for the constant slew of bar fights that they found themselves getting into.

Tonight, it had been four intoxicated men who had decided it was a neat idea to discuss the details of what they’d do to Cait if they could get her drunk enough. While the redhead hadn’t seemed to hear, Sole had briskly made her way over to the group to give her two cents on these ideas of theirs. So, Cait had a point, maybe if Sole hadn’t had quite so much whiskey, she could’ve tried to solve the problem more... verbally. But alas, her confrontation had officially started with her fist landing at the temple of the man nearest to her, effectively knocking him out. And it had ended with Cait hauling Sole to her feet after disposing of the man’s companions.

Cait picked absent-mindedly at the scabs forming on her knuckles as Sole brought the wet rag up to her face once more, dabbing at the blood next to Cait's lip.

"God, how is it that you always end up with the injuries? All I got was a bruise to the cheek, and yet, here you are, looking like a human punching bag."

"I can tell ya that. It's cus it's always me rushin' in te save your arse. Why do you always take on more than ye can handle?" Sole snickered, not knowing if Cait found her own words as amusing as she had.

"Because, I know no matter how many assholes I take on, you'll always be there to save me." Cait made a disgusted sound, rolling her eyes at that, much like Sole thought she would, before letting her emerald gaze meet Sole's eyes.

"I wish you weren't, but yer damn right." Cait said, and Sole felt a little jump in her chest at the sentiment. Cait wasn’t the most tender person in the wasteland, but somehow, she always seemed to know what to say; to Sole, anyway.

The pair sat silently for a bit as Sole finished cleaning up her defender. Wiping down her bloodied hands, and the remainder of the crusted crimson on her face.

"Are ya done fussin yet? I'm tellin’ you, I'm fine. Can we just go te sleep already?"

"One more spot left." She told her, bringing the rag up to her bruised face once more. Sole's eyes fell to Cait's swollen lips as she drew the cool fabric over them, before leaning in to press her mouth softly to Cait's. Sole pulled away, but stayed close enough for Cait to feel her warm, whiskey-tinged breath fan over her as she whispered,

"Thank you for saving me tonight. I really was way in over my head." Sole looked down, embarrassed at her admission, as Cait smiled at her.

"It was my pleasure, luv. As you said, I'll always be there te save yer arse."

Curie:

"You know, you don't have to come to me for something as small as zhis." Curie said as she examined the minor cut on Sole’s arm. “You could patch zhis up yourself easily!”

“Well…” Sole felt heat rise to her cheeks as she searched for an explanation. She knew that every time she came to Curie for something like this, she was taking up the doctor’s precious time, but she couldn’t help herself. What was she supposed to do when Curie insisted on working all day when they were at a settlement? They usually came to settlements to relax, to help make repairs and look into any problems the settlers might be having, but Curie always insisted on doing check-ups for everyone in their vicinity. Sole loved her selflessness and dedication to her work, but… When were they supposed to spend time together? This is what I get for having a workaholic for a girlfriend.

“You know, infection is a big problem out here. I just thought it would be best to seek the help of a professional.”

“Oh, of course, of course. How responsible of you.” Sole bit at her lip as Curie laughed at her. Well, she really has caught onto the whole ‘sarcasm’ thing.

“Fortunately, you do not need to worry about infection in zhis, it iz not deep. But come here, with me.” Curie urged Sole off of the cot she was seated on and brought her to a table at the back of the clinic.

“Wait here, se vous plait.” With that, Curie disappeared around the corner, and Sole stood around, twiddling her thumbs, as she tried to think of an excuse to get Curie off of work early.

“I was going to clean my supplies with zhis, but we can do your arm first.” Curie said as she came around the corner, a bucket of soapy water in-hand.

“Here.” Curie set the bucket onto the table and had Sole hold out her arm as she produced a clean rag from the pocket of her lab coat, and dunked it into the warm water. Sole watched as Curie wrung out the cloth, and brought it to the miniscule wound on her arm.

It was comical, really, the care that Curie took in cleaning the cut that couldn’t have been more than an inch long, and was almost too thin to see. Another rush of heat made its way to Sole’s cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the doctor, but Curie made no complaints as she used the other side of the rag to dry off her arm.

“Zhere! It should be all better. I can wrap it for you too, if you’d like.”

“Thanks Curie, you’re a lifesaver. But I don’t think you really need to wrap it.” The synth laughed at her as she threw the rag into a basket and picked up the bucket again.

“Oh, mon dieu, I don’t know about zhat.” She shook her head, a pink tint coming to her pale cheeks at Sole’s flattery as she turned to go into the back of the clinic again.

“Wait!” Sole said, reaching out her “good” arm to stop Curie before she could vanish around the corner once more. Curie looked at her, a questioning expression on her face. Sole stood, her hand still wrapped around Curie’s forearm, utterly at a loss of what to say. I just don’t want you to go. It’ll be another four hours until you get off.

I think you should take a break?

Maybe you should have a half day?

Do you need some help here at the clinic? God, when did I become so damn clingy?

“Hmm.” Curie’s eyes pierced into Sole’s as a knowing look washed over her face. “I zhink I know what it is you want.” Sole just stared ahead, wondering silently if that were true. The doctor set down the bucket yet again, delicately taking a hold of Sole’s “injured” arm once more. Slowly, she brought it upwards, then lowered her head to place her lips gently over the cut. “Iz zhat better?”

Sole giggled, still embarrassed, but definitely glad she had come to interrupt Curie’s work. I guess I can wait a little longer. Maybe make us a nice dinner for tonight...

“Much. Thanks again, Curie.”

“Of course! Anytime, mon amour.”

Danse:

Sole sat at the kitchen table, draining the last of her coffee as her gaze fell to Danse, where he was seated on the steps outside the front door of her Sanctuary home. He stared ahead blankly, brows knitted together above his lusterless eyes as his hands worked to remove a spot of rust from a piece of power armor he had taken off his suit temporarily. Lately, the ex-paladin had been adept in putting on a show for Sole, making her think that he was okay, even after everything that had changed in his life over the course of a few hours. It had been over a week since he had found out about his true identity, and in that time, Sole could tell that he had tried to remain strong. For whom, she wasn’t sure. She thought she had made it clear to him that she didn’t care about his “strength” in these times, she just wanted him to get through them, whatever the means. Yet, he only seemed to don this look of despair and hopelessness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, and if she tried to bring it up, he would always attempt to change the subject, or he would tell her not to worry and simply say that he was still working on “adjusting.”

She hated when he didn’t talk to her. The seemingly insensitive man was always happy to listen to Sole’s problems and offer what advice he could, often suggesting that she discuss her own issues as a form of therapy. But God forbid she tries to get him to do the same. Sole sighed as she mulled over what to do, and noticed Danse’s head twitch to the side, listening, before his gaze dropped down to focus on his task.

He’s been working on that same spot for almost an hour. If it’s not out yet, I don’t think it ever will be. Sole looked around the room, trying to find something that could possibly serve as a proper distraction for Danse, and her eyes fell to the wooden stereo below the window in the living room. She had left it there because she simply didn’t have the heart to scrap the old thing. Too many good memories surrounded it. Memories of her and Nate, dancing the night away as the records spun on and on playing soft love songs until the sun rose; of her rocking Shaun in her arms as she mosied around the living room, listening to the nursery rhyme vinyls that she had received as gifts at her baby shower... But those memories, they were from another life.

Sole shook her head. This is about him, she thought, not me. I can deal with my shit later. Right now, I need to focus on Danse.

She huffed another sigh, this time a bit louder, and watched as Danse ceased his hand movements and tilted his ear towards her again.

“Is everything alright?” He turned to look at where she sat, and Sole tried to look melancholic.

“It’s just… You know… nevermind, it’s not important.” Just as she assumed he would, Danse stood up and walked inside the house, setting the piece of armor and the rag on the table, and pulled out a chair so he could sit beside her. He looked down at her hands, which rested on top of the table near her empty coffee mug. She could practically see the sweat beading on his forehead as he hesitantly brought one of his large hands to rest over the top of her own. Ever since he found out what he was, he’s been afraid to touch me. So... this is a good sign, at least.

“If something’s wrong, I want to know.” He said as he looked up to meet her gaze, his worried expression matching the concern she was feeling towards him. Sole took a breath to appear as though she was steadying herself.

“It’s just… being in this house. It’s great, I mean, it’s still my home and everything, and I don’t want to go anywhere else, but…” she trailed off, her troubled expression only half-feigned at this point, given the truth behind her words. His eyes never wavered, silently encouraging her to continue.

“Some things are harder to look at than others. And that damn stereo over there just has to be staring straight at me every time I sit down at the table, it’s the hardest one for me to see. It's just, it was a house-warming present from my parents. They gave it to me and Nate after the wedding, and now… well, there are no more records to play on it. They were all ruined, and even if they weren't, I don’t think the thing would work anyway. But every time I see it, it reminds me of the people I’ve lost. My parents… Nate… even Shaun.” Sole didn’t have to fake the tears that came unbidden to her eyes as she recalled the memories of her loved ones, and she knew Danse hadn’t missed a thing when he started rubbing her hand softly with his. They sat there in silence for a moment, as Danse tried to reassure her with his gentle touch.

Then, still remaining silent, Danse stood, reaching his hand forward to brush his thumb over Sole’s cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. He then turned towards the living room, but instead of going straight to the stereo, as Sole thought he might, Danse opened the side door that led to the covered driveway. She watched as he doubled back, now approaching the stereo. Sole wasn’t sure what she had expected him to do when she mentioned her problem to him; maybe offer to help her take the thing apart, or try and see if it still worked, or simply give her another perspective on how she should view the piece of 200-year-old furniture. Whatever she expected, it certainly hadn’t been this.

Danse squatted down in front of the large wooden beast of a stereo, wrapped his broad arms almost all the way around it, and stood, lifting the whole damn thing up until he was standing completely upright with the stereo held firmly to his chest. Sole’s mouth hung open as she remained seated at the table, seemingly paralyzed by the shock of what she was witnessing, as Danse sauntered awkwardly towards the exit. A thick vein protruded from his neck as he twisted the piece of furniture to fit through the door, and made his way out into the driveway.

Sole heard a groan from outside, accompanied by the sound of something hard hitting concrete. She stood up, prepared to head outside and see what exactly he’d done with her “problem,” but before she reached the doorway, she heard him call from outside,

“You can’t still see it, can you?”

“Um… no. But Danse, is it-- I mean, are you okay? It took like, four people to bring that thing in when we first moved it to the house.” The brawny ex-soldier appeared in the doorway, his chest still heaving from the effort of wrestling the wooden monster outside. He nodded to her,

“I'm fine." He huffed, "You don’t need to go out there. I’ll take it apart later, if you’d like. Or we can store it somewhere for the time being.” She shook her head at him, a little smile touching her lips. Even after everything he’s been through, he's still always looking out for me. Even with something as small and insignificant as this.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.” Danse looked down at his feet, seemingly searching for something to say in response.

“But thank you.” Sole finished, and his eyes came back up to meet hers. For a moment, she saw a spark return to Danse’s amber eyes as the smallest hint of a smile softened his expression, and Sole felt hope. Hope for him overcoming his grief in this time of crisis, and hope for herself in being able to move on from the memories that had kept her chained to her past for so long. Together, she felt like the two of them could overcome anything.

Deacon:

“Yes. Two please.” Sole said as Takahashi voiced the only question he ever seemed to ask. The robot placed two bowls of scrumptious smelling power noodles in front of her, and she reached for the bag of caps hanging from her belt. As she looked down to count her money, she heard a clatter of bottlecaps hitting the counter beside her.

“Got it covered. Come on, let’s dig in.” Deacon grabbed a bowl in each hand and headed over to a couple of empty seats at the bar.

“I thought you were still trying to stay undercover?" Sole gestured to the Diamond City guard outfit that the spy donned. "Doesn’t it kinda ruin the illusion if you’re seen in public with me?” She said as she followed him over, sealing up her cap purse once again.

“What? You’ve never seen one of these guys at the noodle stand? Cuz I sure have. Just don’t talk to me, and I’ll be good.” Sole shook her head as she took a seat beside him, instantly deciding to ignore his request.

“Hey officer, I’ve got a question.” Sole swirled her chopsticks around the steaming bowl in front of her, before taking a bite.

“Yes, citizen?”

“Hold on--” she said through a mouthful of noodles.

Deacon laughed as he looked at her full mouth,

“Why--” He tried to talk through his bout of chuckling, “Why would you say you’re going to ask me a question and then take a big bite of food? What did you think would happen?”

Deacon thought he heard her tell him to ‘shut up,’ but it was hard to tell, given the noodles that filled her mouth, and the fact that she was nearly choking in her own fit of laughter.

Eventually, she managed to swallow her food successfully, and was finally able to get some words out.

"No, okay, serious question--" Deacon interrupted her with a snap of his fingers,

"Serious answer." Her genuine curiosity forced Sole to ignore him, and continue with her question.

"Tell me, why do you always pay for everything?" She asked.

"Ma'am, I am a law-abiding security officer. I always pay for the products that I intend to consume."

"I said serious, Deacon."

"Hey, shush!" He brought a hand up to Sole's mouth at the mention of his name, "What part of undercover did you not get?" She cocked a brow at his faked panic expression, noting the grin that he was trying to hide, as he lowered his head and turned back to his noodles.

"Like, okay," she continued, expanding on her inquiry, "whenever we go anywhere, you always pay for everything, and it's really odd. I've never met anyone in the wasteland who's done that, everyone's too busy trying to keep themselves alive to worry about paying for others. So, what? Are you, like, rich or something? I mean, c'mon, what's the deal? I have caps on me all the time, you know that, right?"

"Oh?" Sole saw his eyebrows rise above the tops of his sunglasses as he turned to look at her, "you don't think I'm doing this out of the goodness of my cold, black, heart, do you? No, I'm running a tab over here, honey. You owe me, big time." Sole narrowed her eyes at him, her uncertainty keeping her lips sealed.

"You mean, you didn’t know? Look, I don't know what to tell you," Deacon continued, "I thought you knew! Man, I'm glad you found out this way. Now it won't be such a rude awakening when the invoice comes."

Deacon turned back to his noodles, shaking his head at the thought. Sole's gaze bore into him, trying to figure out his level of seriousness. I really wish I was better at this. This is why I believed he was a synth for a month and a half.

"And if I don't have the money… you're not gonna call out a hit on me or anything, are you?"

“Hmm," he brought a hand to his chin, stroking his finger over it animatedly, "surely there must be some way you could pay me back…” He turned to look at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he did so, and she rolled her eyes, looking back to her noodles as she scoffed.

"Hey! What's with the face! I was talking about community service. Y'know, helping the children, and the elderly, all that good stuff. Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. And to think, I was going to have you volunteering at the children's hospital next week."

Sole instantly regretted taking another bite, as she tried desperately to fend off a fit of giggling in an effort to keep from choking again.

"I can't keep up with you Deacon," she said as she swallowed her food. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."

"Eh, don't worry, I can pay for the funeral." Sole raised a hand and shoved him in the shoulder playfully as he grinned at her.

"Okay, really, though. You do know I can pay occasionally, right?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm your partner, remember? I'm pretty much right next to you whenever you get paid.”

"So… then, why do you do it?"

"Do what?" Sole's nostrils flared at his obnoxious question.

"No? Joke didn’t land? Okay. Serious time," he flung his hands in the air as if surrendering, "I read about something… wasn't it, like, customary before the war to pay for stuff for your… friends?" Sole scrunched her eyebrows in thought,

"Friends? Not really. Significant other? Yeah, a little more common." She looked to where Deacon stared down at his noodles.

Is that, is he... blushing?

"But hey, I don't mind if you don't." She finished, tilting her head forward, in an attempt to catch Deacon's eye. She spotted a flushed little grin spread on his face, before he leaned his head back, restoring his cool composure.

"Oopsies, sorry about that, then. But I did warn you, I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing. So… you know, that's on you."

Hancock:

The ghoul lounged comfortably on the couch in the Old State House, idly playing with his combat knife as he waited for Sole to finish readying herself for their outing.

“Ahhh!”

Hancock leapt from his place on the couch at the sound of Sole’s shriek, his combat knife instinctively falling into a position poised for violence.

He ran across the hall, crashing through the door and into the bedroom. Teeth bared and eyes wide, his head lashed from side to side in search of Sole’s assailant. He spotted her, cowering in the corner as she raised a shaky hand to point at the opposite side of the room.

Hancock’s glare followed Sole’s fear-stricken gaze, and he started towards the desk in the corner she had pointed to, but ultimately failed to see what it was causing her distress.

He turned back to her, an eyebrow cocked, as he raised the silent question of what had been the cause of her terror.

“On the desk!” She said, pointing towards it again, this time with greater intensity. Hancock slowly approached the corner of the room, knife still at the ready, as his eyes continued to search for any sign of… well, anything, really. An exasperated smile spread across his lips as his eyes fell to your attacker. A small, brown, spider picked its way through the objects littering the top of the desk, and Hancock had to hold back a laugh.

“This is what had you all riled up? Oh, sweetheart, he’s just a little spider. C’mon now, he won’t hurt ya.”

“You don't know that.” She said firmly, her round eyes still trained on the desk. It had sounded like a joke, but her expression remained serious.

“Alright, you want me to get rid of him for you?” She nodded her head vigorously, and he chuckled as he turned his attention to the unsuspecting arachnid. He watched as it delicately stepped over a series of writing utensils, and Hancock frowned. Bringing his knife up to the top of the desk, he rested the flat of his blade directly in the spider’s path,

“That’s it, up you go, little guy.” He said quietly, as it stepped onto his steel vessel. Hancock twisted the knife around in his grip as the spider crawled around it, and made his way to the balcony. Once outside, he tipped his knife to the railing, encouraging the spider to crawl off the tip of the blade. Once the spider was safely making its way along the top of the railing, Hancock turned back towards the doorway.

“There,” he said, stepping back inside, “Now he can’t hurt ya, he’s all the way out there.”

“You… you didn’t kill it?” She asked, tentatively standing up.

“Nah, we only hurt the ones who hurt somebody else first, remember?”

“You don’t know that he didn’t hurt anybody.” She mumbled as Hancock sauntered over to her.

“Aw, give him a chance, maybe he can change, y’know? He doesn't really seem like the troublemaking type to me, anyhow.” He brought his hands to your waist, a smug expression playing on his face.

“Oh yeah, just like the way you always tell people you’ve changed?” She said, sliding her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. “Way I see it, you’re still just as bad an influence on me as when I met you.” She said, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right, sunshine. Maybe I can't change any more. Maybe it's just my nature to be a bad influence on you.” He said quietly, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he leaned into her.

“Huh, maybe so. But bad influence or not," she pulled away from him slightly, to look up into his smoky eyes, "you really did save me back there. And, I know it seems silly... but I am grateful." His eyes softened at her little confession and, though he knew this too was silly, he couldn’t help but feel a swell in his chest at the thought of "saving" her.

“And I’ll always be here to save you... from any spiders we happen to come across.” He pecked her lips tenderly, their close proximity practically forcing his mouth to hers. He should’ve known better, once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Even though,” He continued, as he pressed a kiss to her nose, “I’ve seen you,” then to her right cheek, “take down,” now her left, “deathclaws,” another to her jaw, “single handedly,” and now down to her neck, “I’ll be sure to handle all the unruly arachnids.” He whispered into the crook of her neck, before moving upwards again and pressing one more kiss to her forehead. He watched, grinning like an idiot in love, as a crimson flush crept up her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was from the embarrassment she felt regarding her phobia, or from the heat of his lips on her skin, but he decided it didn’t matter. Either way, he found it irresistibly adorable, and with that, he set his sights on her lips once more.

MacCready:

MacCready sat on the floor, legs crossed, as he counted his ammunition cartridges. There were four of the .308, six of the .50, ten of the 10mm, and a few of the .38. There certainly wasn’t as much as he’d hoped there’d be, but he wasn't worried. Sole always seemed to have ammo to spare, and she wasn't stingy with it like he was. It was yet another perk to being with her.

He gathered his full magazines together near the ammo bag resting beside him, so he could begin placing them inside in preparation for their next outing.

"How are you doing over there, babe?" He asked as he stored the outlying bullets in little bags.

"I think... you know what, nevermind. I'm good." MacCready ceased his action, turning to look at where Sole knelt on the carpet of her Diamond City home. A pile of bullets and empty magazines surrounded her, the stack of seemingly full cartridges was pitifully small compared to his own.

"You, ah, need some help?"

"... No.”

"Mmhm, okay.” he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but she wouldn’t look up at him.

“Well,” he continued, “I'm going to put my full mags in the ammo bag, why don't I grab yours too." The sniper stood up, and made his way over to her, bending down to grab the cartridges that looked full.

"Wait! No, these, um, these ones aren't done yet." MacCready's eyebrows furrowed, but the shadow of a smile began to spread to his lips as he realized what was going on.

"So," he said, kneeling down so he could see her pretty little embarrassed face. "You haven't finished loading any of them?"

“No." She said quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. MacCready lowered his head so that he was looking up at her as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. A lock of hair was draped over her forehead, obstructing his view. He reached a hand up and gently pushed it behind her ear, leaning in to give her nose a small peck with his lips.

"You want some help?" He said as Sole raised her gaze to meet his, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She didn't say anything, only nodded yes.

"Alright, you know, you could’ve just asked. I might have said ‘no’ the first time, but you know me, I eventually would’ve come around." MacCready said as he set to work with the magazines that had appeared full, but in reality, only housed half of the amount of ammunition that they could fit within them. He snickered in understanding, it really was the second half of bullets that was hard to load.

"Thank you, sweetie. You’re just so much better at it than I am." She said as she watched his practiced fingers make quick work of what probably would've taken her another hour.

"Of course... but, you are paying me for this, right?"

"Ohh, I think we might be able to work something out." She said, a sly grin playing at her lips.

He just chuckled at her words, but she could've sworn his fingers starting moving a whole lot faster at her suggestive phrasing.

Nick:

“Tell me, why is this now a regular part of my job duties?" Ellie asked as she finished sewing up yet another tear in Nick's trench coat. "You know you're just going to end up with more holes in this coat every time you leave the office, and I don't seem to recall you ever caring about this old thing's appearance before…" she trailed off.

Nick knew that Ellie was fishing for answers. One specific one in particular, but he liked the ambiguity of the situation. It was this little game he and his secretary would play. He would leave clues here and there that pointed to the nature of his and Sole's relationship and wait to see if Ellie would say anything. All while she continued to try and force the truth from him verbally. He wasn't going to lose this round.

"What? A private detective can't keep up appearances for his clients? I think it's just good for business."

"I think it's a load of bologna. You know we gave Sole her own trench coat after she saved you, right? She could just wear her own, rather than steal yours every time you two go out on a case."

"What kinda fun would that be? I don't mind it, it's not like I get cold anyway. And the poor little lady never knows how long we're going to be gone, so I don't think it's her fault when we're out after dark and she wants to wear it."

Ellie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she poked the needle back through the worn, beige fabric once again.

"She's got you so tightly wound around her finger, it's a wonder she doesn't call you 'Jared'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, it’s something I’ve read about, I guess it was a ring shop, or a jewelry company, or something before the war. I thought it sounded clever. Just humor me, won't you?"

The synth just shook his head, uttering a low chuckle as he watched Ellie tighten the thread, forcing the last hole closed.

"There." She said, tying up the last bit of string left over, before cutting off the excess. "It's done."

"Perfect, thanks a million, doll. I'll see you soon, I've just gotta head out for a--"

"Date?" She finished the sentence for him suggestively, raising her eyebrows in question.

"A case. We're going to head out on a case, Ellie."

"Uh huh, sure. Well, here," she handed him back the coat, "now she doesn't need to worry about the cold air seeping in through all those holes. Let me know if you want me to insulate the damn thing when winter rolls around."

Valentine smiled, an uncharacteristically goofy smile, at Ellie's words. He was so obvious, why didn't he just come clean already?

"Will do, I’m sure she’ll enjoy that. Thanks again, Ellie. You're the best."

"And don't you forget it." She said, turning back to the mound of paperwork still on her desk beside her sewing supplies.

“Ah well, I’ll get him to admit to it one of these days.” Ellie mumbled as she began sorting through the files in front of her.

Piper:

Piper looked up at Scarlet from the table in the corner of the Dugout Inn,

"Yes, so I think we'll both have a nuka cola to start off. Then I'll do the crispy squirrel bits, and she'll have the Salisbury steak." Piper pointed her finger to Sole, who was busy looking down at the table, before making a last-minute decision, "Aaand you'd better bring some of those snack cakes at the end, too."

"Hm, as usual." Scarlet chuckled at that as her pen scribbled across the notepad in her hand.

"But that sounds good, you two. I'll have that out in just a minute." The waitress grabbed their menus, Sole reaching up to hand it to her with a smile on her face before turning to peer at her partner from across the table. She waited for Scarlet to disappear around the corner to the kitchen before speaking.

"You really don't find it annoying?" She asked.

"What?" Piper loosened the scarf around her neck as she looked questioningly at Sole.

"I know that I ask you to order for me whenever we go out to eat, or drink, and it's gotta be getting a little old at this point, right?"

"No, not at all, Blue!" Piper said as she took her hat off and placed it on the table, mussing her hair a bit with one hand. "This reporter actually finds it to be pret-ty endearing. It's like, the one thing you can't do. You’re good at, like, everything else, but this I get to help you with. It's a welcome change." Piper's hands dropped to the top of the table as she began absent-mindedly fiddling with her silverware. But her eyes stayed on the woman across the table as Sole smiled at her, still appearing a little embarrassed.

"I don't know why I can't do it," Sole tried to explain, "I've just never been able to order for myself, even before the war. Just one of those bizarre anxiety things, I guess."

"Well, like I said, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it's cute."

Preston:

Sole approached her Lieutenant, shaking her head at him, and she saw him sigh.

“No, the river just keeps going until it reaches a ravine." She told him, "And it’s too steep to climb down. Any luck on your end?”

“Hmm, not really. It's a little more shallow upstream, but it’s still about ten feet wide.”

“Damn.” She said, “We need to get across.” A settlement had sent a distress call across radio freedom almost an hour ago, if Sole and Preston took any longer, they might be too late.

“I guess we’ll just have to go for it.” She said, her face painting a picture of clear disgust at the thought of wading through the murky water.

“Well, let’s at least head upstream a bit. To the shallow part.”

“Okay.” Sole said begrudgingly, her footsteps unconsciously heavy as she followed her companion to the shallow part. Not shallow enough, I bet.

And she was right. As the pair arrived, Preston turned to Sole to gauge her reaction, noticing the way her nose wrinkled at the sight of the brown, swirling water.

Preston heaved a sigh, and started forward. Before he reached the waterline, he turned to see Sole still standing back, feet seemingly glued to the muddy ground. He couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at her, eyebrows creasing upwards as he watched her eyes look longingly at the far shore.

“Come here.” He said.

“I know, I know. Just start going, I’ll follow.” Preston chuckled at the exasperation in her voice. Instead of repeating his command, he simply walked over to her as her eyes remained locked on the other side of the river, when he reached her, he slowly pressed his hand to the small of her back.

“Hey, what are you--?” Before Sole could finish her question, Preston had scooped her up into his arms, bridal style. She let out a squeak of surprise, and he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

“Is this okay? He asked, the brim of his hat pressing against Sole’s forehead as he looked at her.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” Preston laughed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on her, ensuring she was secure before making his way towards the river.

“Hold onto me.” He said, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“Ready?” Sole nodded to him, and Preston took a step forward, frigid water seeping in through his boots as he waded in.

“Wait, are you sure you want to do this?” She said, her eyes trained on the river as it raised up to Preston’s knees.

“I might be wrong, General, but I think I already am.” He said, the amusement in his voice faint as he gritted his teeth against the cold.

She felt his body shutter as he continued forward, the water reaching up almost to his waist, as he held Sole up higher to ensure it wouldn’t reach her. She let out a small sigh of relief as they reached the end of the channel. The water became more shallow, and Preston quickened his pace with each step that brought him closer to their destination.

Once completely out of the water, and past the muddy shoreline, Preston finally set Sole down gently. As her feet touched the ground, Sole kept her arms wound about Preston’s neck.

“Thank you, love.” She said, her voice soft as she addressed him as her partner rather than her Lieutenant.

“It was my pleasure, m’lady.” He said, briefly removing his hat from his head as he did so. Sole smiled at him warmly, but detected the faint chattering of his teeth, and when she looked down, she couldn’t help but notice the goosebumps littering his skin.

“Oh, Preston…” Sole said as she pressed herself to him, rubbing her hands against his back and arms quickly, in an attempt to warm him with her friction. She felt hot air wash over her neck as he released a shaky breath of relief, leaning into her touch. The pair stood there for a moment, Preston syphoning off Sole’s warmth as she tried to repay him for his earlier act of kindness. Her hands slowed from her vigorous rubbing to a more tender sort of touch, before Preston’s head shot up.

“Shit, Sole, the settlement! We’ve got to move!”

X6-88:

This had become a common routine of theirs, and X6 wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Every time they were in Sole’s Diamond City home, she would insist on making dinner for the two of them. That, X6 didn’t mind too much; although, after consuming nothing but food supplements in the Institute for so long, it did take some getting used to. But eating the food wasn’t the issue, it was the making of it that had him perplexed.

As far as he knew, Sole had been the one to install the shelves in her kitchen; and yet, every time she was in need of a spice of some sort, or a condiment, or one of her dishes, she would ask X6 for assistance, given that the shelves were apparently too high for her to reach. Why Sole continued to store her items on the too-tall shelves, he couldn’t begin to guess. But here she went again, asking him to reach for the box of blamco mac n’ cheese on the top shelf, the highest one, one that he could barely even reach. X6 decided it was time to voice his confusion.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?” She asked distractedly as she focused on the strength of the flame burning on her stove.

“Why do you use these shelves?”

“What else would I use, silly?” X6 scrunched up his face at that, trying to hold back a verbal scoff at her wording.

“Would you rather I just store everything on the floor?”

“Well, no. That would… hardly be sanitary.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not. Did she think he was joking with her?

“Why do you ask, X?” She grabbed the box from his hand as he extended it towards her, and began tearing at the top of it with her finger.

“Well, it seems nonsensical to me, for you to continue placing all of your items out of your reach. What happens if I’m not here?” Sole placed a saucepan filled with water over the stove and turned to look at him.

“But you are here.” she said, shrugging, “What? Don’t you like helping me out in the kitchen?”

X6 blinked. What the hell did this have to do with what he liked?

“Well… I don’t dislike it. I’m just having trouble with-- I don’t-- I just... do you want me to fix the shelves so they are the right height for you?”

“No, I like them the way they are.”

X6 felt his eye twitch from beneath his shades. Confusion built up inside him, making the courser feel as though he might explode.

“Ma’am--” His voice faltered as he realized he didn’t know what else to say.

“I know they’re not practical, X. But you can reach them, and I like that about them. Even when I’m here alone, the fact that I can’t make dinner without you makes me smile.” X6 furrowed his eyebrows. That explanation didn’t help at all.

“Don’t you get hungry?”

“I'm not completely helpless, you know, I can usually figure something out.” She attempted to look annoyed at his question, but her grin gave her away. X6 narrowed his eyes at her, still not completely satisfied with the way the conversation had gone. He was still just as confused as he was before.

“Huh.” He said, mulling over all she had said on the subject. “Perhaps... in that case, we should ensure that I am by your side for any missions near Diamond City. That way, I can be sure the future director of the Institute doesn’t go hungry.”

“Well, if you think that’s necessary, who am I to argue?” The left side of X6’s lip tilted upwards in an expression of amusement, and Sole openly smiled at him, laughing a little to herself as she turned her attention back to the boiling water on the stove.

“Can you hand me the pepper mill? Second shelf.”

“I know which shelf. But yes, I can.” He said, turning around to grab it, as Sole continued grinning to herself.

Now I just have to make sure he never looks under my bed. Sole thought. If X6 ever found the step stool she had hidden there, what would happen to her kitchen helper?

362 notes · View notes

taeescript · 4 years ago

Text

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?).

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts. 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive.

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something.

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down.

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say).

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?”

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects.

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made.

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”

- Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

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ncssian · 3 years ago

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A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #gwynriel #a favor #bonus scene

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thebibliomancer · 3 years ago

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Essential Avengers: Avengers Annual #15 + West Coast Avengers Annual #1

October, 1986

Cool, this giant-sized annual definitely doesn’t look like a mess just based on the cover where three different teams are fighting.

Anyway, there’s some guess work placing the annuals at this point in the liveblog. West Coast Avengers #13 ended with Hank Pym preparing for the baseball game that will be in this issue. But the previous Avengers issue, #272, doesn’t hint at the upcoming baseball. It instead hints at a Masters of Evil plot which will last quite a few issues. But despite being on the roster box part of the cover, Namor isn’t in this baseball issue. And he re-leaves at the end of #272.

I don’t know if the East Coast Avengers will be up for a friendly baseball after what’s going to happen in the upcoming plot. And I’d have to put West Coast Avengers on hold for a while if I decided to wait until after the Masters of Evil arc to have the East Coast Avengers play them in base the ball.

Anyway, that’s a long way to go to say that if the end of the Avengers Under Siege arc ends with someone going ‘now lets go baseball!’ I’m going to be very annoyed.

But I can only read ahead so much and keep my impressions my fresh impressions.

So let’s get into it!

Avengers Annual #15: BETRAYAL!

Mockingbird: “Aw. C’mon, honey. Don’t be so upset just because you struck out. This is just a fun game!”

That bolded emphasis is savage af, Mockingbird.

She also tells him to calm down because this baseball game was his idea.

FINALLY, A GOOD HAWKEYE IDEA.

The two Avengerses teams decided that Kansas City, Missouri was the midpoint between the east and west coasts so they should have a friendly, no-bad-feelings baseball game at Royals Stadium before talking shop.

Definitely no bad feelings.

Tigra: “Come on, Iron Man, Wonder Man -- let’s get a cheer going! West is best! East coast STINKS!”

Wonder Man: “That’s a cheer?”

So far, the East Coast Avengers are two runs ahead thanks to Cap(tain America) throwing a mean curve ball. But Hercules doesn’t really know the game and is getting increasingly annoyed with it.

Then it’s Wonder Man up to bat and after steeee-rike one thanks to Cap’s mean curve ball, he knocks it out of the park.

And he would have gotten away with it too,

if it weren’t for Captain Marvel and her nyoom.

She lightspeeds after the ball, grabs it, throws it back to the stadium, and then nyooms back to catch it.

Wonder Man complains to umpire Hank Pym that the ball was out of the stadium when Monica caught it so OBVIOUSLY it should count as a home run. FURTHER Monica should be thrown out of the game, the East Coast Avengers made to forfeit, some third thing!

Hank eventually decides that the catch will be a ground-rule double instead of an out.

Wonder Man: “Awright! Who said complaining never got you anywhere?”

Which annoys the Wasp and tests her decision to try to stay friends with her ex.

Tigra is up to bat next and she bunts, complete with BUNT SFX. As it should be.

Hercules doesn’t get baseball but he does get sitting in one place waiting for a slow moving ball to roll towards him so he can catch it.

Which is the wrong thing to do here because as he squats, waiting for the baseball ball, Tigra just jumps over him. Seems she took advantage of his unfamiliarity with the rules.

Wonder Man scores a home and Tigra is making her way to third so at Cap’s instruction, Herc throws the ball at Black Knight.

But he still doesn’t know the game and throws it too hard and too high and it flies towards the only people in the stands. Coulda killed someone but Hawkeye shoots the ball with an arrow to deflect it.

Hawkeye: “I did it -- I knocked the ball off course! At least I’ve been of some use today.”

Annnd Tigra gets home in the confusion, tying the score.

Then its Mockingbird to bat except she uses two of her battle staves instead of a bat. This probably is counter to the rules but someone on the other team can move at lightspeed so.

Cap pitches, Mockingbird hits, Black Knight catches the ball (impressive how he can do sport leaps when he’s in a suit of armor), and throws it to Hercules.

Hercules still doesn’t know how to moderate his strength for sports (wasn’t he in the first Olympics? Where he wrestled a guy?) and accidentally stomps a fissure into the ground. Which does keep Mockingbird from getting to the base so in a sports sense, good job Hercules?

Iron Man steps up to the plate. The wind-up. The pitch.

Captain America: “The Blob?”

The Blob: “Yeah. The Blob.”

I could have read an entire issue of the Avengers playing sports at each other but alas, here comes the plot in the form of Freedom Force. The once and future Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

The Blob even rudely destroys the ball so no hope that the once terrorist group now state monopoly on violence predecessor to X-Factor are here to challenge the Avengers to baseball.

Wouldn’t that be an interesting plot?

Anyway, they’re not here to play games or make friends. Freedom Force works for the federal government and they’re here to arrest the Avengers.

And they brought warrants!

The Avengers will be remanded to the custody of Freedom Force and be escorted to a federal penitentiary in Colorado. By order of the president.

DAMMIT REAGAN!

Mystique sneeringly asks the Avengers if they’ll come willing leading to a quick huddle among the Avengers.

Wasp doesn’t believe that Freedom Force has actually reformed and that the warrants are fakes. I’m sure she’s half right.

Iron Man thinks Freedom Force are thugs and doesn’t want to take this “guff.”

Captain Marvel thinks that since the Avengers have gotten so much bad press lately, they should cooperate and see what happens.

Hercules just wants to punch people. He wants to punch them so much.

Hawkeye worries that if the Avengers fight and the warrants are legit, it’ll make him, Hawkeye, look bad in front of Wasp and Cap.

Mockingbird doesn’t want to let Freedom Force bully the Avengers.

Tigra refuses to consent to being locked in a cell, no matter what the reason. (Oof, that’s going to age poorly when Hank Pym locks her in a cat carrier)

Black Knight passes the buck, saying he’ll do whatever Wasp decides since she’s team leader.

Hank Pym also wants to punch Freedom Force and he’s not even an active superhero.

Wonder Man frets about how he was a villain once but got a second chance and turned out to be a cool guy so maybe Freed Force really have reformed. And then decides “Let’s trash those bums.”

And Captain America is almost paralyzed over the idea of fighting government agents with legitimate warrants, which he is pretty sure they are. But also, he can’t stand just meekly surrendering to them either.

Mystique: “Well, well... it seems the ‘mighty’ Avengers have turned into a debating society! Have we made up our minds yet, children?”

Wasp: “Yes, we have.”

Dammit Hawkeye!

But into indecision strolls a Hercules and throws a pitcher’s cart at Freedom Force.

Avalance avalanches the cart before it can do any harm. But now its gonna be a fight. The Avengers have just thrown the first punch at some duly authorized government agents so now those duly authorized government agents can respond with as much force as necessary.

Freedom Force is thrilled because they too were itching for an excuse. Except Spider-Woman, the new one. She worked with the Avengers on Battleworld during Secret Wars and its what made her want to join a superhero team.

Except.... she wound up on Freedom Force. Womp womp.

Anyway, Freedom Force attacks.

Avalanche knocks the Avengers off their feet, Pyro assaults them with fire. Which mostly just burns Hank Pym’s shirt and gives him an excuse to tear it off and go around bare chest. Worse, Spiral acts immediately to neutralize Captain Marvel who is one of the biggest and trickiest guns here.

But Spiral has do-anything bullshit magic powers so she just spells a spell that stops Monica from doing her powers. Easy.

Wasp flies into the Blob’s ear and stings his ear drum, seriously messing with his sense of balance.

And Captain America tries to sneak up on Spiral to help Captain Marvel but he’s charging across an open field and she spots him and uses magic to prevent him from getting any closer.

Tigra, Mockingbird, and the Wasp try to stop Spiral but get chased off by Pyro.

Wasp is immediately taken from fighting fit to almost ready to pass out just by the heat of Pyro’s fire.

I know that the plot is going places but I remain annoyed when the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants or Freedom Force just stomps on the Avengers or two Avengers like its not even hard.

I think its the quality of the writing more than the concept. I don’t mind them losing for plot but having Wasp go oh nooo too hooot rankles.

Anyway, Wasp goes oh nooo too hooot and calls to Cap to save her. Cap has to break off and run over to help her except whoops its Mystique and she shoots him.

The real Wasp along with Captain Marvel is being held at gunpoint by Destiny and they’re both too weak to overpower an old precognitive woman with a gun.

Big, beefy man Hercules though he puts out the fire bird with a water main he tore out of the ground and then blasts Avalanche. I guess water is super-effective against Avalanche, being that he’s rock type.

Wonder Man whisks Hawkeye and shirtless Hank Pym out of harms way and then puts out the various fires by dumping dirt with a maintenance truck.

The Blob recovers from getting Wasp’d in the ear drum but immediately starts getting repulsored by Iron Man. To no effect. Then Hawkeye shoots him with a bunch of arrows. To no effect. He just pops them out of this blob flesh. Then Iron Man shoots the Blob with his chest laser. And this has an effect, for some reason. Incapacitating the Blob.

He’s just kinda getting locked down.

Black Knight winds up fighting Spiral and welp he’s the hard counter to her. His sword just cuts through her spells and nullifies them.

So she just teleports away.

Black Knight gives chase into the stadium’s seating but gets stuck in a Spider-Woman web and then gets punched unconscious by a Spider-Woman fist.

Dangit, Dane!

Hercules tries to get Avalanche to surrender because it sure would be nice if one of Freedom Force was down since like three or four Avengers are.

Anyway, Blob has recovered from being Iron Manned and Spiral teleports him between Hercules and Avalanche. Hercules tries punching Blob, predictably gets stuck, and then the Blob headbutts Hercules a lot. Also, Spiral does vague spells on him a whole bunch and Hercules is down for the count.

And then Avalanche knocks out Mockingbird and Tigra.

Hawkeye winds up facing Destiny. She’s drawn on him, he has a bow out but no arrow notched.

Hawkeye: “Destiny, I could load and fire before you could even begin to squeeze that trigger.”

Destiny: “I think not, I know your every move before you do. But you don’t know mine.”

Then she shoots him with her tranquilizer gun before he even begins to nock an arrow.

Maybe instead of talking about how fast you could do it, you should have just done it, Hawkeye. You idiot.

Iron Man fights Pyro by rushing straight at him despite the heat tasking his armor’s power reserves. He rips the tubes on Pyro’s flamethrowers loose but Pyro just brags that he can still control fire without it.

Iron Man thinks that if he can just punch Pyro once before his armor overloads, he’ll win. But then Spiral spirals him and he’s out.

Anyway, then Wonder Man flies in and punches Spiral in the back of the head, knocking her out.

Then he knocks out Pyro.

The remaining five Freedom Force surround the remaining Avengers. Of which there’s only a depowered Captain Marvel, a shirtless Hank Pym, a still heat weakened Wasp, and Wonder Man who has been more effective than anyone else and probably hasn’t broken a sweat.

Mystique tells them to surrender and Wonder Man wonders, man, if maybe they should despite Wasp saying “We’ll never surrender!”

Hank Pym tells Wonder Man ITS DEFINITELY TIME TO FIGHT! While he runs away, taking Captain Marvel with him.

But Destiny knew they’d probably run so she’s ready to shoot them and knock them out.

Wonder Man rapid fire punches Blob and the Blob goes down.

Wasp shrinks down and flies inside Avalanche’s helmet, her attack stunning the Freedom Force-ateer.

“But as he does, he inadvertently sends shockwaves which propel chunks of Earth at the Wasp.”

Okay cool she gets knocked out by accident. After spending most of the fight not doing anything because she had heat exhaustion.

Why do you hate the Wasp, Danny Fingeroth?

Mystique commands Spider-Woman to take down Wonder Man and she leaps into action, punching him several times.

He barely feels it.

He tries to return the favor but she’s too speedy to easily land a hit on.

Then while he’s distracted, Destiny blasts him with her tranquilizer at full power. And while he’s shaken, Mystique yells at Spider-Woman to finish him off. Which she does do, bonking Simon in the head with a wooden pole until he’s knocked out.

Destiny: “You should be proud of yourself, Mystique -- leading the group that defeated the combined Avengers. Quite a feat.”

Mystique: “Thank you, Irene. It’s funny, for all their power, the Avenger I was most worried about was Captain America. He’s the most resourceful and -- and he’s not on the field! He’s escaped!”

Womp womp.

While Spiral nullifies the unconscious Avengers, the rest of Freedom Force tracks down Captain America to a far corner of the stadium.

Where he’s decided to use his time to call his government friend in the government and confirm that Freedom Force has really, legitimately been sent to arrest the Avengers.

The government friend confirms that Freedom Force is acting under the authority of the executive branch. Although he can’t say why they’ve been sent.

Captain America: “So what you’re telling me is that we’re supposed to trust these people who just tried to kill us -- and trust the people who sent them!”

Mr. Secretary: “Perhaps you’re overreacting, Captain --”

Captain America: “Overreacting?! Look, I’ll go along with this nonsense for now. Just remember... even I’ve got my breaking point.”

But true to his word, he surrenders peacefully when Freedom Force tracks him down.

Spiral transports the Avengers and the Avengers to the Rocky Mountains where they’re surrounded by Guardsman guards and accosted by Henry Peter Gyrich.

DAMMIT.

Also, Raymond Sikorsky and Valerie Cooper.

Apparently the writer realized that Spiral being able to nullify the Avengers’ powers is maybe a plot hole and has Captain Marvel ask why Spiral didn’t just lead with that so Mystique can explain the specifics. Specifically, its because she could only do it if they stood still long enough.

Anyway, Freedom Force peaces out so the real villain of the story, Henry Peter Gyrich, can take center stage.

He tells them what this is about. Freedom Force brought the Avengers to this Rocky Mountain facility so there could be preliminary hearings in a TREASON TRIAL!

Dun dun dun!

The Wasp protests that the Avengers aren’t traitors. They’re a force for good!

Henry Peter Gyrich: “No, Miss Van Dyne. You are not a force for good. I have suspected your malevolence for some time -- and I at last have the proof I need to put you all behind bars!”

Oh? Pray tell?

Also, fuckin’ Henry Peter Gyrich. The worst.

Valerie Cooper explains that the government has sworn testimony that the time Vision took over all the computers was not “temporary insanity” but a pre-meditated take over the world plot.

Which, uh, yeah. Um. That doesn’t look good, does it?

But Valerie Cooper says that the testimony says that it was planned not just by Vision but by several other Avengers as well. Which just isn’t how things happened. All the Avengers did was cover up the truth!

Wait, that doesn’t look good either.

The testimony also apparently claims that the Avengers beating Grey Gargoyle that time they were in court with Henry Peter Gyrich was a false flag operation to make the Avengers look good and make Henry Peter Gyrich look like a chump.

CLEARLY A PLOT!

But, uh, no. I remember that issue. That’s not how it happened, the US government. Just because something made Henry Peter Gyrich look bad, it doesn’t mean it was a secret plot.

And apparently the informant informed the government of even worse crimes than trying to take over the world or making Henry Peter Gyrich look like a dumb, stupid idiot.

AND APPARENTLY THE INFORMANT WAS AN AVENGER!

Dun dun dun!

The Avengers want to know which one of their friends is actually an enormous dick who won’t be receiving a Christmas card this year but Gyrich smugly tells them that is classified. They’ll get to find out the identity when they’re on real trial for all the treason.

He also says that the informant’s information hasn’t been corroborated by a second party yet.

So, Gyrich had the Avengers attacked and arrested by an ex-supervillain team based on an unvetted accusation.

What a dick.

Meanwhile, over in Washington DC where Freedom Force work, Mystique yells at Spider-Woman. The reason why Spider-Woman is even on the ex-Brotherhood of Evil Mutants team despite not being an evil mutants is that Valerie Cooper told Freedom Force they had to take her.

And granted, she did good work during the battle but she hesitated and that could have cost Freedom Force their victory.

Maybe Spider-Woman thinks herself better than working with ex-supervillains but if so there’s the door and say goodbye to the great salary, benefits, and not being murdered by Freedom Force perks.

Back at the kangaroo pre-trial, Captain America has had enough! He hasn’t delivered a speech in hours dammit!

Captain America: “I can’t stand this anymore! Everything you’re saying is the exact opposite of everything America stands for. You’re telling us we’re guilty until proven innocent! But that’s wrong! That’s injustice! You send out thugs to arrest us, without so much as the courtesy of a phone call or time to prepare for this hearing! You tell us we’ve been accused of crimes -- many of which you won’t even name -- but you won’t allow us to confront our accuser! Well, I wonder if the president really knows what’s going on here -- how personal vendettas are being carried out under the false label of justice! I believe in the American Dream. But this... this is some sort of nightmare!”

And then all of the Avengers applaud Cap because of course they do.

(Its the beat panel that kills me)

Henry Peter Gyrich just responds ‘cool story, bro’ and tells the Avengers that they’re staying in federal custody until the trial. Which is scheduled for TBD.

Then he has them hauled off to the Vault for individually tailored incarceration experiences.

Fun fact: this is the Vault’s first appearance! How fun for the Avengers, getting to be the first guests.

You might think I’m being silly. I am but also I’m not.

Narration: “Deep inside another of the mighty peaks of the Rockies -- there sits the new, top secret U.S. government containment center for super-powered criminals. The Vault. Manned by a large crew of highly trained Guardsmen, it gleams with newness and hums with power. In operation less than a week, it awaits its first shipment of super-criminals from around the country. Eleven of its cells, however, are now filled.”

Anyway.

These special customized cells made for each of the Avengers!

Captain America gets a cell that’s a sphere that tumbles whenever he moves. “All his gymnastic skills and combat knowledge are useless.”

HEY.

YOU KNOW THAT NORMAL CELLS WORK ON CAPTAIN AMERICA? HE CAN’T GYMNAST THROUGH A LOCKED DOOR.

Hercules’ cell is lined with two feet of adamantium. Ain’t no way even a god is punching his way out of that.

The Wasp is in a cell with no openings small enough for her to escape through. Which makes me wonder how she’s breathing tho.

Black Knight is in a normal ass cell because he’s a normal ass dude who owns a magic sword. Take the magic sword from him and he’s just a normal ass dude.

Um, except that he’s shown before he can summon the sword to him. Good thing he doesn’t try that here or else he’d embarrass the Vault on its first day.

Captain Marvel, the woman who can turn into any form of energy so holding her is nigh on impossible, is kept in a cell that’s constantly full of tranquilizing gas.

... is it healthy to be kept tranquilized constantly and indefinitely??

Iron Man’s cell drains his armor’s power, leaving him only enough to sit up.

Tigra’s cell doesn’t get a description. It’s a cell and she can’t get out of it. Like Black Knight, she may have been put in a normal ass cell.

Hawkeye, Mockingbird, and Hank Pym seem to have been.

Wonder Man, at least, is in a special cell where a stasis-field keeps him paralyzed in the center of it.

What? Did they run out of adamantium? Or did they think that Wonder Man needed more restraint than Hercules? Or did they think that the stasis-field wouldn’t work on the god, which is why they needed all that adamantium?

And that’s been the tour of the Avengers’ new indefinite homes.

The Avengers and West Coast Avengers books would be boring if the two teams were stuck in prison indefinitely. So they’re going to either need to break out or get broken out.

Anyway, Spider-Woman is lurking right outside the Vault.

She broke into Mystique’s files to find the location of the secret prison and somehow made it across the country to spring the Avengers!

Maybe!

She’s considering it!

She doesn’t really have a plan and Mystique’s warning/threat is really weighing on her. She’s not really willing to risk everything for the Avengers. And maybe the government is in the right here, who can say!

Spider-Woman has just talked herself out of actually contributing to the plot when she trips a hidden alarm, causing guards to come pouring out of the Vault to look for the intruder.

Even so, she’s willing to lie low until the guards give up the search. But they spot her (apparently partially because Destiny warned the Vault that Spider-Woman might try to break in?) and start shooting at her.

The decision made up for her (thanks Destiny), Spider-Woman decides she’ll go ahead and help the Avengers.

She manages to sneak into a security post near where the Avengers are being held, beats up all the guards and breaks all the machinery and equipment.

Then she fucks off, not really having time to see if what she did actually helped the Avengers.

That being the case, I think that Black Knight should have been the one that started the breakout. Given his already demonstrated but not advertised ability to teleport his incredibly cursed sword to himself.

Just a thought.

Anyway, Spider-Girl’s sabotage causes the feeding slot to open in the Wasp’s cell. The Wasp is suspicious that this is a setup to kill her for trying to escape but also she’s tired of this room so escapes out the hole.

She finds Cap(tain America)’s cell and short-circuits the lock, freeing him.

She tells Cap that they gotta break out the rest of the Avengers but Cap has a hard time with that because he loves the government so much.

Captain America: “As reprehensible as all this is -- I still have a hard time with the idea of breaking out! This is the U.S. government we’re dealing with -- albeit not its most pleasant side.”

Wasp: “Cap... I understand your problem. But you see the perversion of law and justice here. Let’s try to get ourselves and the others out -- then we can decide what the right thing to do is -- as free men and women.”

Well, legally, even if you cleared yourselves of the high treason charges, you’d still be indisputably guilty of breaking out of jail. But fiction always overlooks that because its more exciting the other way.

Anyway, they free the rest of the Avengers, mostly off-panel.

The Guardsmen finally show up to try to stop the jailbreak but that just lets the Avengers get some cathartic post-imprisonment violence in. But after a few rounds of punching, Iron Man activates a high-pitched sound that locks up all the Guardsmen armor.

(A failsafe Tony Stark built into the Guardsmen armor design just in case the government tried to use the Guardsmen on him. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaat’s Tony!)

Captain Marvel tracks down the Avengers’ gear at the speed of radio and with everything they need to get going, the Avengers get going.

Punching through to the outside of the Vault.

Not a great track record. Open less than a week. Its first prisoners managed to break out in less than a day of being imprisoned.

Also, Captain Marvel shorts out the Vault’s electrical systems on her way out to make it hard for the Guardsmen to track the Avengers.

So on top of the cost of making special cells to hold the Avengers, there’s going to be a huge repair bill from trying to stick the Avengers in the Vault.

Spider-Woman is still hanging around outside the Vault, so she gets to see the Avengers escape and knows that she accomplished a thing.

Spider-Woman: I sure don’t have much future with Freedom Force. Wonder if I have what it takes to be an Avenger...?

You sure will, Julia Carpenter!

The escaped Avengers find a cave to lay low in and discuss.

The discussion mostly happened off-panel but they’ve come to an agreement.

Wasp: “Then it’s agreed -- our first priority is to find out who betrayed us and why. Then we can decide on our course of action! For we are Avengers, and one way or another we will have --”

Everyone: “VENGEANCE!”

Can’t wait to see who is the mysterious informant feeding Peter Henry Gyrich tall tales!

Can’t wait for RIGHT NOW!

BLACK PANTHER IS THAT YOU???

No wait you’re in the back.

Yeah, I know who the dingus is. What a dingus.

West Coast Avengers Annual #1: ONE OF OUR OWN!

Between issues, the East West Coasts Avengers have gone from the cave to trying to escape the Rocky Mountains by sneaking along a mountain path under the noses of many government helicopters.

Having left one cave, the Avengers immediately find another one to have some more conversation in.

(As a sidenote, Hawkeye struggles with have two Captains on the Avengers. He has to call her by her full codename of Captain Marvel because in his mind only Captain America is Cap. But he can’t call her Marv because of gender hangups.)

In the cave, the Avengers decide to discuss who could be the Avenger that’s been talking to Peter Henry Gyrich.

Hawkeye immediately discounts anyone currently on either team, and also Hank Pym. Getting yourself beaten up by Freedom Force, having to listen to Peter Henry Gyrich’s smug face, and then getting thrown into a cell would be a lot for the informant to go through just to keep their identity secret even though it would later come out during the trial.

Or maybe, Hawkeye just figures that no one currently on the team is aggrieved or resentful enough to try something like this.

But whoever did spill the untrue beans knew enough details to sound credible and knows the Avengers’ operations thoroughly. So it IS someone who was an Avenger.

Hawkeye discounts the Thing and Firebird. They were hanging out but neither were an official Avenger.

He discounts Moondragon since she’s dead. And according to him “never joined.” Which isn’t quite accurate. She signed on a trial basis and left when offered a full-fledged spot on the roster. But she was still an Avenger. Otherwise, how can I joke about how she’s the Worst Avenger?

Hawkeye also discounts Hellcat who also never joined. She was offered a spot but Moondragon convinced her not to take it. Like the Worst Avenger she was. Anyway, Hellcat joined the Defenders instead and later retired to marry Daimon Hellstrom.

Ms Carol Marvel, now Binary, is actually someone that might try to get revenge on the Avengers for the huge wrong they did her. But she already had it out with them and also she’s in space now.

A fact the Wasp seconds for Starfox.

She also says that the Hulk is in no position to be whistleblowing on the Avengers. Now, the issue the editor’s caption cites does have Hulk being contained by SHIELD at Gamma Base. But how does Wasp know this?

Moving on, she says Namor McKenzie the Sub-Mariner left the Avengers for personal reasons. She doesn’t offer reasons why it wouldn’t be Namor but I don’t think he was around for the world takeover plot and I can’t imagine it coming up in conversation.

Mantis is busy being the Celestial Madonna and hanging out in deep space. “And I can’t picture anybody that cosmic working through Agent Gyrich!”

Jocasta was another person who hung out with the Avengers all the time but was never actually an official Avenger. And is also dead.

Swordsman, an Avenger, is also also dead. And he died before a lot of the events in question.

Which leaves Thor, Vision, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, She-Hulk, Black Panther, Black Widow, Other Iron Man (Rhodey), Beast, and the Falcon as people who were Avengers and haven’t been ruled out in other ways yet.

Captain America is impressed at how Hawkeye has matured as a leader, in a kind of rude way.

Captain America: Who would have thought I’d live to see Hawkeye taking command... and everyone listening?

So the Avengers split up to go meet all the various ex-Avengers Hawkeye listed as not ruled out.

Captain Marvel flies to the Moon to visit Quicksilver. Because she can just fly to the Moon.

Iron Man just flies high enough that he can send a communication signal to contact Rhodey on the West Coast.

Rhodey denies that he’d ever betray Tony in his right mind, now that the armor isn’t messing with his brain electricity anymore. Which Tony knows. He didn’t seriously think that Rhodey would betray the Avengers. He did want to offer Rhodey a chance to suit up and punch whoever the culprit is.

Rhodey: “Boss -- you twisted my arm!”

Tigra, presumably for her ties to the Fantastic Four, visits the Fantastic Four to visit She-Hulk.

She-Hulk denies being the traitor. And Tigra, like Tony, also didn’t think her designated person was the culprit either. Although Tigra also finds it hard to think anyone on the list is.

Which sends her into a guilt spiral because she’s not on a list of potential traitors but she almost betrayed the team to Graviton because of horniness.

Mr Fantastic offers the Fantastic Four to help the Avengers with this problem but Tigra tells him This Is Something We Have To Do Ourselves.

Dammit, Tigra!

Hawkeye calls Black Panther in Wakanda. He apparently doesn’t even bother lightly accusing T’Challa of being the traitor. Just tells him that the Avengers are in trouble and Black Panther drops everything to come and help.

Hard to imagine Black Panther being the traitor or at least not one that’s working with the US government. Sure, he’ll spy on the team but that’s just because he’s incredibly paranoid.

Hercules was sent to talk to Thor because Hercules is the only Avenger Thor trusted with his new address. Pretty unbelievable honestly considering how frustrated Hercules makes him.

Thor: “By Ymir’s frost-covered beard, art thou mad? I create a new secret identity as Sigurd Jarlson -- I entrust one Avenger with my address -- thou com’st hither to ask my aid -- and then thou wouldst consume fried fowl ere returning to our allies! By my troth, Olympian! Every time I consider thee a full-fledged god, thou remindest me of thy half-human heritage!”

Hercules: “It has been a long night, Thor! I need strength to exact revenge!”

Thor: “I need strength to deal with thee!”

Great exchange.

Nearby to where its occurring, Captain America visits his old pal Falcon. Who isn’t surprised to see Cap again and starts putting his costume on when Cap asks if he wants to help him and the Avengers.

Doesn’t mention the traitor thing. Like with Hawkeye and Black Panther.

Instead of visiting, Wasp just calls up Beast on the telephone. It’s mentioned that he’s in X-Factor now, which explains why he looks not like a blue furry guy.

He also mentions that of course he isn’t Peter Henry Gyrich’s informant. “A smart mutant stays as far from the government as he can.”

Way to vagueblog the future version of X-Factor that you don’t know about yet, Beast!

Mockingbird goes to visit Black Widow.

I really want to know who decided who visits who. Because I’m imagining Hawkeye breaking out into a cold sweat when he realizes his wife is going to be talking with his ex.

For some reason, the two forget they’ve met before and take a moment to appraise each other as an important woman in Clint Barton’s life. And both come to the conclusion that the other is pretty.

Watch out, Clint. You might get korrasami’d.

Anyway, Black Widow also expresses the opinion that the government slash Gyrich is just jerking the Avengers around. There’s no informant, Gyrich is just saying there is to turn the Avengers against each other.

Mockingbird thinks that Gyrich’s information was too specific for that to be the case.

Finally, Wonder Man visits his brain bro Vision and Scarlet Witch.

Simon knows that Vision and Scarlet Witch aren’t the traitor(s). But this was a good excuse to visit his new nephews. Because in Vision and the Scarlet Witch vol 2 #12, Scarlet Witch and Vision had twins, Tommy and Billy.

Anyway, yeah, Wanda and Vision are both too busy to be the traitor or to join the Avengers in hunting them down.

Simon understands and flies off.

If he’d waited a couple seconds, he would have been there when Wanda has an epiphany about the likely identity of the traitor. Although she’s rude enough to not reveal her suspicions to the audience.

An hour later, the Avengers convene not in a cave but in a cabin! near Chichester, New York.

There are now sixteen Avengers gathered, including the inactive members that got swept up in this nonsense. Four more Avengers accounted for in some way.

And by process of elimination and not around to defend himself... leads to Quicksilver being the suspect.

Captain Marvel couldn’t find him on the Moon.

Iron Man claims Quicksilver “never was one of the group!”

Hawkeye jumps in to protest what the shit Iron Man! Quicksilver was one of the kooky quartet! A good, solid team!

Thor agrees that Quicksilver was a good Avenger.

Thor: “Thus, I reject this assumption of Pietro’s guilt -- and turn once more to the man who made us most ashamed -- Hank Pym!”

Who are you, Thor? Modern Marvel? Never letting Hank live it down?

Wasp jumps to Hank’s defense. He was one of the original Avengers! And yeah, he had a dark period in his life where he lost his way but he owned his mistakes and retired from superheroing!

So then who is the traitor?

First guess was right.

Quicksilver: “Yes! The fastest man alive! And guilty, guilty, guilty -- of VENGEANCE!”

The Avengers ask but whyyyy and Quicksilver says the Avengers betrayed him first.

... Lets see where he’s going with this.

Well, first. He’s upset that his dad is Magneto. Understandable.

Second, he’s still upset that Wanda and Vision got together. And that the Avengers or scarequotes “heroes” supported the relationship instead of pointing and screaming that it was an abomination.

Third, that when Quicksilver was injured in battle with the Sentinels (in Avengers #104), the Avengers abandoned him to die!

Quicksilver sure is remembering that story in a way.

Here’s what I remember: Quicksilver ran off without the Avengers because they weren’t rescuing Wanda fast enough with the no clues they had.

Quicksilver independently found the Sentinel base, with the help of kidnapping, and found himself facing a Sentinel that could perfectly adapt to his speed. So he ran full speed into a wall to trick the Sentinel into running into the wall.

It destroyed the Sentinel but also broke most of Quicksilver. The Avengers had no idea he was there because last they knew, he ran off in a huff.

Anyway, Quicksilver was rescued from the Sentinel base by Crystal and Lockjaw of the Inhumans. She took him back to Attilan to heal him, she Florence Nightingale’d on him hard and him right back at her, and eventually they got married. The Inhumans moved to the Moon but because Quicksilver is inherently an unhappy, alienated person, he felt unhappy and alienated in Inhuman society.

He began emotionally neglecting Crystal by focusing all his energy on drilling the Inhuman Moon Militia. So Crystal began an affair with a real estate agent.

Quicksilver discovered the infidelity over in the Vision and Scarlet Witch book and got pissed when Wanda tried to convince him to forgive Crystal.

Quicksilver: “But I do not forgive! I do not forgive any of you! I set Gyrich on you. And if he betrays me too, by failing to destroy you -- I’ll do it myself! Myself -- the only one I can trust!”

Yeah, this is during the period where Marvel was trying to turn Quicksilver into a villain because he was judged on a poll the least interesting of all Marvel characters.

An achievement of some sort.

Apparently the whole effort was kind of half-assed because while some writers didn’t like Pietro and gladly made him a lightly kick puppies, other writers weren’t really enthused about the plan and hedged their bets.

Anyway, Quicksilver challenges the Avengers to be destroyed by him in three places of sentimental importance.

The circus where the Avengers first fought together, Avengers Mansion where Quicksilver became an Avenger, and the Sentinel base in Australia where Quicksilver ran headfirst into a wall and is now blaming the Avengers for it.

Quicksilver: “In those three places, you’ll pay for what you’ve done!”

Okay, I have a question. You know that he’s laying a trap of some kind for you. Why humor him?

None of the Avengers will ask that question. They’re just going to heedlessly follow his itinerary. Dang.

Captain America tries to cut the book short by pleading with Pietro to let the Avengers help him.

Captain America: “Whatever your grievances, you must remember how good it was when we were ‘Cap’s Kooky Quartet’! We we saved each other’s lives a dozen times ---”

Quicksilver: “Don’t remind me! I get sick to my stomach thinking how starry-eyed I was! Save your own life now, Cap -- if you can!”

Then he runs off, proclaiming that all the Avengers are snails in his eyes. Excellent burn, Pietro.

Also, that wasn’t a mistake on my part. Cap does say we twice in a row.

Captain Marvel gives chase but according to Quicksilver, she can’t turn as easily as he can so he gets away.

Sounds fake but its what’s needed to keep the plot going.

As I said, none of the Avengers even question marching right to where Quicksilver told them to go.

Partially its because they still want to help Pietro and partially its because the plot wouldn’t work if they weren’t idiots.

Thor tries to angle for a founding Avengers minus Hank Pym grouping to go to the circus but Iron Man declines and says they should stick in their East/West Coast rosters.

So the East Coast Avengers will go to the Mansion. The West Coast Avengers will go to the circus. And I guess the guys that were called in just for this story are going to check out the Sentinel base.

Hank Pym gets left behind to be a little sad on realizing that Thor is holding a grudge against him. But also to assign himself an errand.

Quicksilver NYOOMS to Central Park to meet the ‘army’ that he taunted the Avengers he had.

Its just the Zodiac Cartel. Life Model Decoys of dudes that are obsessed with astrology.

And they’re working for Quicksilver because he’s lived on the Moon and Cancer is really into that.

Quicksilver gathers his goons and goes to Avengers Mansion to meet up with Gyrich and Freedom Force.

Wherein he screws over Mystique.

Deciding that Mystique will probably screw it up, Quicksilver decides that he and his Zodiac goons will handle the Avengers that arrive at the Mansion.

Gyrich happily agrees because Quicksilver is his favorite dude for finally giving him the ammunition he needs to take down the Avengers for embarrassing him once.

Mystique: “But this is a crew of L.M.D.’s -- criminal L.M.D.s! You can’t remove the Freedom Force for them!”

Quicksilver: “You’re very quick to call the kettle black, woman! Your ‘Freedom Force’ was the ‘Brotherhood of Evil Mutants’ until very recently -- and an inferior ‘Brotherhood of Evil Mutants,’ at that!”

Shots fired.

Seriously though, if she fired shots at him, that’d be great.

But since Quicksilver has Gyrich’s support, Mystique really doesn’t have a choice but to step aside.

Meanwhile, since Quicksilver knows the Avengers so well, he knows how they’ll try to sneak past the government forces holding the Mansion.

I guess my question is does he know them so well?

He was on the team for a while but that was for a while a while ago. He’s been living on the Moon and not really interacting with the Avengers for years now.

Anyway, point is moot. I guess he does know them so well because he predicts that they’ll try to come through the submarine tunnel. Which Quicksilver knows about despite it being built when he wasn’t on the team. Sure.

Anyway, Taurus is there waiting to ambush the East Coast Avengers.

He drags them down into the water and tries to drown them. And he’s doing a decent job but Quicksilver gets... I dunno, impatient? and pulls the giant PURGE switch that drains the submarine tunnel back into the river, sucking the Avengers along for the ride.

Captain Marvel blasts an early exit to the flooded tunnel so her teammates don’t drown, blasting the East Coast Avengers into the middle of Central Park where Quicksilver, Cancer, and Gemini await.

The Avengers not currently recovering from a near drowning engage Quicksilver and his two doofuses.

Captain America squares off against Gemini, Wasp against Cancer, and Captain Marvel chases Quicksilver.

Captain Marvel identifies the two Zodiac members as LMDs, leading Cap(tain America) to exclaim to Quicksilver “You mean -- you’ve allied yourself with people who aren’t even alive?”

WOW CAP

Robo-racist much?

Zodiac LMD Gemini even says he heard Cap was the guy big into “all men are created equal.”

Anyway, because of Gemini power, the Gemini LMD can grow.

Sure, that makes sense.

I have never understood the Zodiac powers and half the time the comic doesn’t bother coming up with any.

Anyway, Captain America continues robo-racisming at Gemini until the LMD decides Cap is right and surrenders. This, too, is a Gemini power apparently.

And while Cancer is distracted by Gemini giving up with only a couple panels of fight, Wasp zaps him for massive damage. BECAUSE TYPE ADVANTAGE.

He’s water type and she’s apparently flying/electric.

Quicksilver flees into an abandoned building in the park and Captain Marvel doesn’t have time to search it for him because Peter Henry Gyrich shows up with the federal marshalls to try to take the Avengers in.

Hercules, having come to to lift a heavy thing to provide the Avengers cover, says they should simply beat up Gyrich and the federal marhsalls but Wasp claims that though she despises Gyrich (same tho), he’s not the real enemy (disagree).

Instead, Captain Marvel blasts another hole in the ground and all the Avengers jump in after her, to the dismay of Peter Henry Gyrich.

Peter Henry Gyrich: “Gone! Even Captain America defied me! But it only goes to prove what I’ve always said -- we have to control these super-types for the common good! And we will, men! You can trust me on that!”

Random guy not buying Gyrich’s shit: Right...

Meanwhile, Hank Pym arrives in New Jersey to see Vision.

But elsewhere, Quicksilver runs across the country to Arizona to meet with Libra, Virgo, Leo, and Scorpio.

The LMDs are surprised that he’s trying to lead all three sub-groups of Zodiac but Quicksilver just answers “My word is my bond, Leo -- unlike the majority of mankind!” because that’s the mood Quicksilver is in right now.

Also, Libra tries to hit on him but Quicksilver responds with a ‘girls are icky’ rejection that’s only just shy of a rant about fluoride.

So the group of Zodiac attack the circus. Apparently one of the audience in attendance was also present the time that the Avengers fought the Hulk. But now he’s an adult, making a mystery of the sliding timescale.

The West Coast Avengers arrive to save people from being horribly murdered at a circus.

Tigra immediately jumps on Leo because she’s mad about cats right now.

And Hawkeye tries talking to Quicksilver.

Hawkeye: “PIetro, I know it’s not easy to turn good and stay turned -- but we started together! We can still keep it goin’ -- together!”

Quicksilver: “What do you know of togetherness, Hawkeye? You’ve quit the Avengers many times!”

Hawkeye: “Quitting and selling out are two different things!”

Some fighting happens. Scorpio incapacitates Hawkeye and Wonder Man with neurotoxin. Iron Man helps Tigra knock out Leo.

Then he finds Hawkeye and Wonder Man eating dirt but distracted he’s vulnerable to Virgo slapping a machine on his back that incapacitates the armor.

But THEN Tigra sneaks up on her and makes HER eat dirt.

Good job, Tigra.

But half of everyone is faceplanted in this area and Quicksilver ran away because Hawkeye shot some arrows in his general direction earlier in the fight scene.

He is not. Not doing great on his big two annuals villainous turn story.

But that takes us to significant location three and Zodiac sub-group three.

Uh... Pisces, Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius.

By the time Quicksilver shows up to this last location, he’s visibly winded. Which Capricorn comments on.

Capricorn: “You’ve run halfway around the world! You’re tired!”

Quicksilver: “Tired of failure by your fellow replicants, Capricorn! The Avengers have beaten them both times, despite my best efforts -- but you four and I have one last chance to rub their noses in their past! Tired? Not me! Not when triumph is within my grasp!”

You’re throwing a lot of stones for a man in glass houses who ran away when the fight looked even slightly like it was going his way.

Anyway, 1/3rd the Zodiac plus Quicksilver attack the old Sentinel base. Which, apparently, the Australian government had taken over to use as a research base.

Good recycling, the Australian government.

But waiting for Quicksilver’s group is the Backup Avengers!

Thor, Black Panther, Falcon, Black Widow, and Backup Iron Man Rhodey.

Huh, interesting roster actually. Even if its just the remainders lumped together.

Quicksilver cracks wise on these Avengers never having worked together and that the Iron Man is just a stand-in. So Iron Man chases after Quicksilver while Zodiac and the Backup Avengers tussle.

The Backup Avengers defending their not being on the Avengers at the moment.

Since some of these dudes haven’t appeared in the book for a while, this fight scene is mostly them thinking about their own deals while also kicking Zodiac’s various asses.

Quicksilver: Always the Zodiac falls in defeat! They could be great, given time and leadership, but I used them too quickly! It doesn’t matter! My plan allowed for this conitingency! There was a better reason than nostalgia to end our battles in this installation!

This book needed some additional editing. What is a “conitingency”, Quicksilver?

Rhodey Iron Man almost catches Quicksilver and derails whatever his plan is. But Thor was also in pursuit after squishing Pisces under a heavy equipment bank.

The two Avengers bonk into each other, while Quicksilver crows “I knew my luck would turn if I held to my cause!”

While the Backup Avengers mop up Zodiac, Quicksilver nyooms out of the research installation.

The Backup Avengers pursue and leave the installation at the same time as the East and West Coast Avengers arrive to back them up.

(Apparently one of the captured Zodiac members confessed to Peter Henry Gyrich that Quicksilver was just framing the Avengers, to Gyrich’s vast irritation)

Anyway, Quicksilver shoots the three groups of Avengers with a particle beam.

That’s why he chose the ex-Sentinel base for his revenge plan. Because the Australian government was researching particle beams as an alternative to nuclear weapons.

Quicksilver: “Goodbye, Avengers -- at last!”

But Vision arrives to interrupt Quicksilver’s revenge.

He didn’t join the initial assembling of Avengers because he and Wanda were mostly retired from superheroing to focus on marriage and parenting. But they began to suspect that Quicksilver was the culprit and this was only confirmed when Hank Pym showed up to talk to the couple.

Vision talked Wanda out of accompanying him but she did send along a little gift for her brother, a ruby.

Quicksilver warns Vision not to try anything because he can press the particle beam button far quicker than Vision can try and stop him. And the rest of the Avengers too realize that Quicksilver could react more quickly than anything they could try.

But the ruby isn’t a weapon, which Vision demonstrates by shooting his solar beam through it and getting Captain Marvel to shoot some light through it.

The solar beam and light produces a pair of holograms of Quicksilver’s new baby nephews.

Vision: “You claim you hate everyone on two worlds -- your wife, your sister, your former team -- but can you truly hate these two innocents, whose father -- and mother -- you will have to murder to establish your claim? Tommy and Billy need their uncle, Pietro -- just as your own child needs her father! Whatever we adults have done to you --”

Quicksilver: “enough -- ! ENOUGH!!”

And Quicksilver runs away.

Welp. That takes care of that forever!

Just kidding. Vision readily admits that Quicksilver is so unstable that rather than being stopped by the concept of nephews next time, he might just start hating them as much as he hates Vision.

Which is not an ideal outcome.

But also nobody really feels like chasing after him anymore today.

And as Hawkeye points out, Quicksilver probably won’t be causing any more problems for a bit, as emotionally stunned as he was by the nephew hologram.

Which only leaves one piece of unfinished business!

Finishing up that baseball game! Hawkeye calls Thor for his team!

A good ol’ heartwarming everybody laughs ending!

Except the part where melancholy Quicksilver is eavesdropping on the merriment.

But, y’know, fuck him.

I’m sure there’s a Quicksilver people like. But this one ain’t one. Not even as a villain.

And doing two double-sized annuals in the same time span that I’d usually do a regular sized post has nearly killed me.

This is all Quicksilver’s fault.

Follow @essential-avengers because I don’t know I’m very tired. Like and reblog. It will rejuvenate me.

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years ago

Text

Knowing Me, Knowing You

Book: Open Heart, Book 2

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Words: 1K

Premise: AU where she is dating someone else upon his return from the Amazon.

Author’s Note: Once upon a time, I posted “War of the Roses” where I mentioned a CEO ex of my MC. I said his FC was the glorious Henry Cavill. I spiraled from there. @ashiiknees had the brilliant idea of this AU angst fic. Thank you so much, darling! Also, thank you to @aestheticartsx for pre-reading!

A smile so charming and sharp illuminates his features as he studies her, pinning her like a butterfly with a single look. It is so reminiscent of something familiar, something that once felt like home. Lilac feels her throat tighten.

“You could give me a run for my money at the negotiation table,” Malcolm laughs, his breath brushing her lips moments before his mouth does.

After only a millisecond of hesitation, Lilac kisses him back, the dread in her stomach easing at his touch. The guilt this inspires is almost suffocating. Yet, she kisses him fully, allowing herself to get lost in his scent. When they pull apart, she summons an easy smile.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Those steel, grey eyes assess her with such intensity that she almost jerks back in response. Before she can help it, she is tormented by the memory of a different pair—blue, intense, and so piercing that every time they fell on her, she felt bare before him.

Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever… whatever it is we had.

Had.

The single word still feels like the twist of a knife.

“No thanks necessary,” Malcolm assures her, cupping her chin gently. “I’m really glad we were able to talk. To try and make this work.”

Lilac nods once in acknowledgement, unsure how else to respond. Luckily, she is spared from elaborating further by the everpresent ringing of his phone. Malcolm glances at the screen and sighs heavily.

“Duty calls,” he tells her. “Meet you at my place tonight?”

“See you there.”

With one last kiss, he brings the phone to his ear and moves past Lilac on his way to the exit. Now alone in the tiny hospital break room, she lets out a shuddering breath.

With a tiny wave of determination, she turns to watch him go.

And freezes when her eyes fall on a different figure standing at the door.

Ethan is rooted on the spot, unable to move, as though his stomach sinking like a stone is weighing him down.

“... the numbers of the Tokyo account.”

The tall, suit-clad man doesn’t even glance at Ethan as he rushes past him, too rapt in his phone call to take notice of anything. As soon as he vanishes around the bend of the hallway, Ethan's eyes fall on the lonesome figure in the desolate room.

Lilac stands with her back to him, all but shriveling inward as she hugs her arms around herself. With a steadying breath, she finds composure, becoming the Lilac everyone knows, standing tall and determined.

Then, she turns and her eyes find his.

It's like a torrent, hitting him at full force, threatening to knock him off balance.

The inconsequential noise of the hospital falls away to leave room for a long, almost stifling silence between them. Neither of them makes an effort to look away or move, suspended in that moment, desperately hoping to prolong it as long as they could look at each other.

Ethan’s eyes take her in, feasting on her after two months of starving, so far away from her. For a moment, he thinks he can see the same longing reflected in her eyes. Then, an invisible mask clasps into place and she raises her chin higher with dignity.

“Doctor Ramsey,” she says at last, her voice as cool and collected as her expression.

It stings more than it should.

“This lounge is for employees only,” he says in response. The words are out before he can stop them.

“Understood, Doctor,” she says at once though Ethan can hear the edge of sarcasm in her tone. “I’ll make sure to meet with him elsewhere in the future.”

Something coils in his stomach at the words, bitter and as agonizing as an open wound. Before he can allow himself to react, however, he remembers this is what he wanted when he left for Brazil. He wanted her to move on, even if he knew from the moment he boarded that plane that such an alternative might never be a reality for him.

“Be sure that you do,” he says, keeping his voice even.

To his surprise, Lilac laughs at this, a dark, humorless sound that is uncharacteristic to her.

“Don't pretend you're this concerned about a minor breach in the employee handbook.”

“I don't know what you could be refer—”

“You have no right to pull the jealousy card.”

He says nothing. Even after a year of knowing her, the accuracy with which she could call him out still surprised him. Despite the steel wall he tried to build, she always found her way in, right to the center of his true nature.

“You're right. I don't.”

This seems to infuriate her even more. The color rises to her cheeks, her nostrils flaring as she takes in an uneven breath. Her bottom lip quivers for a brief moment and with a pang, he realizes her anger is her desperate attempt to cover the hurt.

“You left.”

Silence.

The only sound is Ethan's heart pounding furiously at his ears, valiantly trying to keep itself from crumbling to pieces.

“You left without a word goodbye. I had no idea where you had gone until Naveen told me. For two months I wondered if you were okay or if—” her voice trembles slightly. Angry at this betrayal of emotion, she tries again, “—if I had done something wrong.”

“Lilac, you—”

“And then, after crying for nights on end over you, I realized that I was raised to demand better treatment from others. I wasn't going to waste my time waiting for someone who only slept with me twice before he got bored of me.”

Ethan clenches his jaw against the lie, each word as vicious as a lashing.

“I deserve better.”

His throat constricts painfully.

“I deserve Malcolm.”

The worst part is that Ethan can't even disagree with her.

The longest silence yet follows. Neither says anything, though they each look as though they have years worth of words to say to one another. For Ethan, it is summarized in three words. Three words he was too cowardly to admit from the moment he realized he meant them. Three words he was foolish enough to believe he could forget in the Amazon.

Three words that, no matter how constantly and how fiercely he said them, would never be enough. Not anymore.

Lilac looks at him, eyes scanning his face desperately, almost as if she can sense the unsaid.

“This is how things are now, Ethan. Just how you wanted.”

“I never wanted —” he blurts. He stops, thinking instead of the one truth that guided him all those weeks apart from her: “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.”

Author’s Note: Not me thinking of ways to get them back together. Also, that tiny bit in Lilac’s speech was inspired by AOC saying "I am here because I have to show my parents that I am their daughter — and that they did not raise me to accept abuse from men."

If I write more in this universe, it will be my mission to name them all after ABBA songs. Maybe I should just do that for all of my future works.

Thanks so much for reading!

*Tagging in a reblog*

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #Playchoices #My writing

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hanazou · 4 years ago

Text

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

583 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 4 years ago

Note

Is it ok if I request a Law x Yonko reader? For once the reader is badass and strong 😎 has her own crew and is well respected yet she fell in love with Trafalgar Water D. Law

Hi!! Of course! I fell in love with the idea. I think Law deserves a strong woman on his side, and this type of dynamic is one of my favorites!! It was intended to be a OS but I got too invested on the story so I decided to part it in at least another part that I'll be posting in a few days. I hope you don't mind! Plus I included some NSFW too, because the tension between the Yonkou and Law was really high! I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned for the second part if you like it 💖 Thanks for reading and supporting my work!

NSFW - Trafalgar D. Water Law x FemYonkou! Reader - PART 1

TW: NSFW. 18+ Minors DNI. Rough and unprotected sex. Chocking.

WC: 4.1K

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31973146

Part 2

Part 3

Final/Part 4

“My dear captain, someone is on the coast!!”, your most loyal nakama comes running through the door of your huge castle with the news. “Mmm, I wonder who it could be…”, you tell her. “I’m afraid whoever we’ve been waiting for has arrived, Captain”, she says, looking at the ground. You have always hated how they are afraid to look directly to your eyes, even though you consider them your equals. But you guess it’s because of your powerful aura, or the respect they have for you.

“Let’s be a good host. His crew can come to the castle once we have talked. He would probably be staying the night, so tell the boys to prepare the royal guest room, ok?”, you order your first commander with a lovely smile.

You laugh, some say your laughter is something similar to a demon, but hey, that’s part of your identity as a yonkou, so… You wait for your guest sitting on your throne, admiring your brilliant rings. Suddenly the big door in front of you opens and there he is, the brat you’ve been waiting for.

You lick your lips, wondering when you will be tasting that sweet candy. No man or woman could ever resist your beauty, or your power.

The steps of that tattooed punk echoes all around the huge room. He is wearing a black coat that covers his whole body from his neck to his ankles, a funny looking white hat, and a big katana over his shoulder. “I hope this is not the only bigger thing he carries…” you think while smiling at him, trying to admire those grey eyes you saw on his wanted poster. But he does not show them, he walks slowly, covering his gaze with the visor of his hat. “Oh, you are trying to look mysterious, I get it punk”, you say to yourself.

He is now in front of you, and finally looks at you. He is even hotter than what you thought. It surprised you when your den den mushi rang and it was him requesting an audience with you, but even though you know this brat is dangerous, you accepted it right away.

“So, Trafalgar D. Water Law, huh? what brings you here?”, you ask him, crossing your legs and bending over a little to see his face. Your throne is a little elevated from the floor, so you look down at him.

“I’m here to ask you for an alliance”, he tells you, fixing his cold eyes on yours. “Oh, I see… an alliance. But aren’t you in one with the Mugiwaras? Why would you want an alliance with a Yonkou? Didn’t you lose your Shichibukai title because of an alliance? ”, you inquire him.

“Heh, I see you have more information about me than I thought…”, he tells you with sneering contempt. That pisses you off, hard. Who do you think you are, little rookie?... You stand up, violently, solemnly. Your black feather coat over your shoulders makes a loud noise, your hair flows over your back. You start walking down the little stairs off your throne and stand up in front of Trafalgar Law. He backs up a little, even if he looks like a total badass, you are scary for him.

“Tell me Law, why do you think I am an emperor of the sea, huh? Do you think you are stronger? Do you think you can outsmart me?”, you tell him firmly, centimeters from his face. Law gasps, he is trying not to look scared, but he is, pretty much indeed. He remains silent.

“Do you think you can put me down as you did with my old friend Doffy? Ha! poor Doffy, he was pissed that his little ex retainer fucked his whole life… Well, I guess that’s what you get for not being incredibly strong and intelligent”, you smirk at him, and begin to walk. The sound of your hills resonates on Law’s head. But even if he might be a little scared, you know he is smarter and stronger than he looks, so you must be careful, especially because he is at your back.

“Why don’t we have dinner and discuss your offer?”, you tell him, this time a little more friendly. “Yeah…”, he tells you with that low voice he has, that makes you bite your lip. Of course you are curious about his proposal and his true intentions, but damn, you wish you were devouring him right now.

You turn your head to the side and tell him “Follow me”, over your shoulder. And keep walking to the dining room.

Once the two of you arrive at the dining room, a big table is waiting for you. Candles on each side of the table, several delicatessens served on silver platters. “Take a seat, please”, you invite Law to sit while you sit on yours.

Law and you are face to face on each side of the table. You bend a little over the table, with your elbows over it, and interlocking your fingers. You show yourself interested in him, smirking sexily. “So, I’m all ears. Tell me about your offering”, you say.

Law takes off his hat letting you see his disheveled black hair and adopts the same position as you. “Well, as I told you before, I want to form an alliance with you”. He is short and concise. You raise an eyebrow, what does he want from you?...

“Why? What do you want from me? and what do I get in return?”, you ask before sipping some red wine from a big crystal cup. “You will be able to defeat the other three yonkous, as long as I can see the red poneglyph you have in here”, he says straight to your face.

You widen your eyes, surprised that he knew you have such a treasure in your hands. “I’m surprised Mr. Trafalgar. You have indeed, more information than I thought… I wonder who told you about it. I’m a little concerned at this point, maybe you are some kind of undercover agent from the marines?”, you tell him, fixing your eyes on him.

Law gasps subtly, his lips part and for a moment he remains silent. He is also looking at you, and you can see a red spark in his eyes. “I’m not with the marines”, he tells you firmly. You begin to laugh and stab the bistec on your plate with the knife. “Of course you aren’t, if you were one you would have denied it instantly…”, you tell him and taste a piece of meat.

The tension floods the ambient, you want to show how dominant you can be, but at the same time you wish he were dominating you in your room.

“Fine, if I accept that means that you and the Mugiwaras will be my allies, right?”, you ask him, showing him you are sure, but deep inside wondering if you made the best decision, after all, pirates alliances are often marked with betrayal…

“That’s right”, Law tells you. “Listen to me closely, little brat. If you happen to show the slightest sign of betrayal, you will know exactly why I’m named “The Sadist”. Are we clear?”, you tell -threaten- him. “I know exactly what you are capable of. Don’t worry, I won't betray you”, he assures you, firmly.

“Let’s have a celebration, then”, you tell him and order your subordinates to bring the dessert. “I’m not a man of celebration, could you please show me my room? tomorrow morning I’ll be telling you all about my plan to take down the other yonkous”, he tells you denying your invitation to a little private party. You are upset, angry… but you won’t show it to him, so, you tell your crew members to show him his room with a big smile on your face.

Once he leaves the dining room, you walk to yours with strong steps, frustrated. "Nobody has ever refused my invitation…". A cold shower cools your annoyance a little but not enough. You snuggle into bed and fix your sight on the big ceiling of your room. "Damn brat, why is he so hot? And for what?"... you go to sleep planning the best way to catch your prey in your spiderweb. You are used to getting everything you want, and Law of course is no exception.

Morning comes and the sun outside shines more than ever. You’ve been planning the whole night on how to seduce your guest, so you order your subordinates to prepare a special breakfast next to the pool. You choose to wear a tight bikini, those who show more than what they can cover, and a white semi-transparent kimono over it… after all, he is a man. He shouldn’t be resisting the lure of your beauty.

When you get to the pool patio, he is already there having a cup of tea, with those lean long legs, wearing an unbuttoned black shirt that allows you to enjoy his tattooed chest. You contemplate the handsome man from the arcade that connects the patio with the castle. You took a finger to your lips planning the next step on your plan.

“Good morning my dear guest and ally!”, you greet him, while sitting next to him under the big umbrella. “Good morning”, he salutes you, looking at you with those intense grey eyes. You give him a side smirk and grab a slice of orange, for some reason none of you look down, and you keep staring at each other. Perhaps trying to fight for dominance, perhaps because he wanted to seduce you as much as you do.

You take the slice to your mouth, and a drop of the juice runs through the commissure of your lips. He follows the path the bead of citric trails on your mouth with his eyes. He approaches you with his hand and runs his inked thumb over your lips. The sensation of his soft surgeon fingertip over your lips feels so enticing. You wish you could suck his finger, yet, he is the one who should succumb first, not you.

The moment gets interrupted when one of your maids offers you coffee. The strong black coffee that keeps you going in the morning, sweet, caffeinated elixir that today isn’t necessary, something else keeps you energized. You gaze at the maid, with hate in your eyes for interrupting such an intense moment. You tell her with a false smile, “yes, please”. She serves you a cup and runs away, quickly, scared as hell.

Leaning on the backseat of the couch with the cup on your hand, you cross your legs, letting some skin peek through the opening of the kimono. “So, Law, tell me about your plan”, you tell him. “Right, so I’ll be staying here for a few weeks, if you don’t mind”, he informs you and keeps talking about the plan. You lick your teeth; you don’t even listen to anything about the plan. You are satisfied as you will be having your sweet candy with you for a long time…

“Perfect, so the plan is set. I’m glad we are allies, Law”, you tell him as you stand up, and walk up to him. You place your hand over his shoulder and look down at him with a smile. “Aren’t you hot? let’s enjoy the pool”, you invite him and keep walking to the edge of the pool. You untie your kimono letting it slide off to the floor. You can feel Law’s sight pinned to your back and even lower, yet he is not moving.

“Right, you are a devil fruit user” you tell him pouting, but either way you dip in the pool. When you emerge from underwater, you take your wet hair out of the face, and get out of the lido. Your bikini turns a little bit see thru and you see how Law looks directly to your now notorious erected nipples from the cold water. You have an evil grin on your face, and he seems to be enjoying every inch of your skin.

“Do you like what you see, huh?”, you tease him. He looks at you, with piercing eyes, stands up and walks up to you. “Huh?”, you say but before you could even continue with a cocky phrase, he is already grabbing you by your neck.

You gasp, ‘cause you got slightly scared, but your bossy attitude won’t let you show it. You begin to chuckle with that -demon- laughter you have. And suddenly stopping you tell him, “What do you think you are doing?”. Law squeezes your carotids even more tighter approaching his face to yours and tells you, “Don’t play with me, if you want me to fuck you just tell me”. “Let go of me”, you command him. He sets your neck free, but his nose still is almost touching yours. “Before I let you walk, you gotta show me how you crawl, brat”, you whisper to him. You celebrate internally how he has already fallen into your trap; he couldn’t resist you. Another victim, another candy to taste, this time a spicy rather than a sweet one.

Law and you keep looking at each other for several minutes more, perhaps playing a game of power, who is gonna be the first to cave in and kiss the other?... Your heart beats faster, the tension is in a way arousing, you hold yourself back while sometimes your gaze wanders over his lips… so enticing.

You were about to cave in when his den den mushi rings. He smiles at you, seductively, and turns around to pick up the transponder. You decide to leave the patio and go to your room, you are way hornier than you think, and falling into his arms that soon it’s not your style. Or so that’s what you think…

You spent the whole day in your room, thinking about your next move. Some of your commanders have come to visit you and asked you about the new alliance, but you seemed so invested in seducing Law that you forgot about your responsibilities.

The night comes, and you are getting ready for dinner. You are excited almost like a little girl, finally you are going to see that face that got your heart beating fast. You have chosen to wear a pretty, draped black dress, not so revealing yet not conservative at all. Your back is completely naked and has a slit on the side of the skirt. Your typical fine jewelry and heels that can kill if you happen to step on someone.

Law is always first in the dining room, this time accompanied by three of his most loyal nakamas. A polar bear dressed in a black suit, and two guys with hats that start drooling when they see you enter the room. The four of them stand up from their seats “Cap… captain…!”, says the one using an orca hat. “Shachi, shut up”, says the other with a hat that puts “PENGUIN” over it.

“Good night sirs, please take a seat”, you tell them. One of the menials runs to your place and moves the chair for you. “Thank you, darling. You can bring the food whenever it is ready”, you tell him, with a big smile. You usually aren’t so sweet with others, but tonight you are in a good mood for sure.

“So, you are the high officials of the Heart Pirates, huh? nice to meet you”, you tell them with your intense gaze placed on each one. The humans swallow, they are intimidated by your imposing presence. The polar bear stands up once again and shouts “AY AY, NICE TO MEET YOU! I’M BEPO!”. You are kind of overwhelmed by how noisy the Mink is, but you think it is kinda cute. Law tells Bepo to sit down and lower the voice, and the bear repeats several times how sorry he is. You giggle a little and tell him “It’s ok, Law! Bepo you are a cutie, nice to meet you”.

The food is served, and everyone starts to taste the wonderful creations of your chef team. You can’t help but peer at your prey while eating. He notices your persistent stare and fixes his eyes on yours. That piercing, grey, icy stare that makes a shiver run through your spine and you’re breathing subtly uncontrollably. No person has made you lose control before, you are known for being cruel and cold, you haven’t felt in love ever in your life, but this brat… this brat has something special.

“Guys get back to the Polar”, Law commands his nakamas. “They can stay in one of the rooms if they want, Law”, you tell him, and the guys start getting excited with red cheeks. “It’s an order, get back to the polar, please”, he orders his subordinates with a cold stare. You roll your eyes back, because you know he is protecting his crew from you, he respects your power and knows well how cruel you can be when you want something. “Fine, fine…”, Bepo, and the guys say and walk away.

“Do you want to have a drink in the garden, Law?”, you offer him after his nakamas have left the place. He looks at you and takes a few seconds to finally respond. “After you”, he tells you and you two start walking to the patio.

The blue night sky looks deep, the sound of the running water of the many fountains competes against the song of frogs and crickets. Some torches light up the path to the lawn chairs. As you walk on the deck, you ask him “Do you always carry your katana wherever you go, Law? Are you afraid of something? He responds from behind “I’m not, I simply take my precautions”. You try to sound strong and petty, but the truth is that the one who is scared is you.

When you finally take your seats on the couches, both of you cross your legs. Your dress allows some skin of your thighs to peek through, and Law can’t resist but scan your whole body with those grey eyes. You do the same, his tight jeans, seems to get even more tighter in between his legs. The unsolved sexual tension between the two of you it’s way too high to ignore, and at this point you are sure Law has on his mind the constant idea of fucking you, as much as you do.

You can’t take it anymore; you are just fed up. This is taking too damn long, you want him in between your legs, now. So, you suddenly and violently stand up, slapping the table with your hands. Law even though got a little scared, he remains still, acting swanky as always. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares. You are tired of this pestering feeling, a flame inside you burns even hotter. Law smiles at you with that cocky smirk and pats his lap. “Come here”, he tells you.

Even if you were dying to sit there, you are just too arrogant to do as a man says, and fighting against your true desires, walk away. “Damn brat”, you say to yourself while walking through the deck stepping strong so your heels sound louder in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, someone grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You have the Surgeon of Death´s face in front of yours. You gasp, he is not smirking, but his eyes show pure desire, his breathing is accelerated as much as yours. Your hand is directed to his crotch by him. You can feel his hard bulge growing under your palm. You have a side grin. And after a few seconds, he kisses you so passionately, so lustfully, so needy. His inked hands grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, letting your neck exposed so he can dig in like a beast.

“Let’s go to my room, Law”, you gasp in between steamy kisses. “Fine… Room… Shambles”, he says and you two are teletransported to your bed. You land into your mattress while Law is standing up at the feet of your bed. You smile seductively at him, full of desire when he begins to take off his black shirt. The big heart tattooed on his chest that reaches almost to his belly button, his abs slightly defined, the V that his lower stomach muscles form over his pelvis, and a little happy trail that makes you wonder where it finishes, makes you squirm and recognize how needy for this man you are. “Come here, brat”, you tell him with a beckoning finger.

Law is over you in no time, cradling your face with his hand. Your fingers trail the inked lines on his chest. He begins to kiss your neck, lower and lower, his hand is now traveling under the slit of your dress, up through your thigh and even higher. His soft hand caresses the side of your waist, while the other slowly slides off the right strap of your dress, exposing to him your breast.

His tongue plays with your nipple, and you moan his name. A string of saliva forms when slowly relieves the nipple from his lips and looks at you with intense lust. Your hands that were lingering over his bulge are now at each side of his head, and in a simple but fast movement you are now over him, straddling your hips. You grind against his sex, touring your hands over his tattooed chest. You slowly bend over him, biting his neck, playing with your tongue with the little hoops he has hanging from his ears. Law’s hand on your butt, squeezing hard your flesh.

You slide off your other strap, so your dress falls off exposing your torso and beautiful breasts to him. The black dress gets stuck on your hips and you start softly jumping over his aching dick, still trapped in his jeans. Law is sweating, he is about to burst, and you haven’t even touched his sex yet. You don’t even care about the foreplay, you want him to flood your insides, and he wants it too.

He reaches for his zipper and lowers it. You help him by pulling down his jeans and his boxers, letting free his member. To your surprise the left side of his groin area is also inked with a little sword. At first it looked suspicious, but you are so horny that instantly jump over his sex.

Your already wet panties become even wetter when you rub your sex against his. Law closes his eyes, every time your core touches the tip of his cock, like a sweet torture. Until this is too much for him and pushes you to the mattress. You flop down on your back and Law violently tears off your panties. “I’m gonna fuck the hell out of you, bitch”, he tells you gasping, and penetrates you, rough and deep.

“Mh, Law”, you whine, invaded by the pleasure his cock against your walls makes you feel. He has his teeth clenched making his mandible even more sharp. Your bodies are covered in sweat as he pounds you with hard fast thrusts. Your moans would probably make everyone in the castle wake up, but you don’t really care.

Law passes his hand on your back, lifting you as you cross your legs around his waist. You are now seated over him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, face to face, while he keeps penetrating you. The both of you reach climax, you first and then Law. Your core feels how his pulsating member empties inside it. He gets you hugged tight, and you rest your head over his shoulder enjoying how full you feel, how satisfied you feel after relieving that sexual tension between the two of you. n

Even if you insist on this being all just sex, and haven't been in love before, something about being skin to skin with a man after having sex feels better than you thought. Never in your life have you experienced being hugged to someone, so closely, so intimate. His warm breath caresses the skin of your shoulder, and you close your eyes in hope this moment never ends.

Law slowly helps you lay on bed, and he does the same. You are lying on your side while Law is on his back looking at the ceiling. You worship how his inked chest goes up and down with every inspiration and you can't help but put your hand over it. He looks at you and pulls you next to him. Your face is now over his arm, and he caresses your naked back. He probably knows this is a whole new experience for you, as you are known to be heartless… but the truth is that you have always been lonely…

PART 2

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #one piece #law one piece #law x y/n #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x oc #law imagine #trafalgar law imagine #traffy #sashi-ya

287 notes · View notes

clairenatural · 4 years ago

Note

Shy Nerd | Dean

Punk | Castiel

[ the world needs more of this]

college au! this ran away from me and ended up 2.2k whoops :’) i hope you like it! (also note i have no idea how motors work i am not an engineer)

There’s an open textbook on his bed, but Dean is ignoring it; instead, he’s scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. He doesn’t really understand Instagram, but Charlie had looked so shocked and dismayed when she found out he didn’t have one that he’d given in. He doesn’t post much—doesn’t have much to post, really, besides his car and LARPing with Charlie—but it sure is a good distraction from his physics work. He sighs and flops down on his back as he taps through stories. It’s a Friday night, so there’s all the usual parties, and clubbing videos, and group dinner shots. He frowns as he taps through Charlie’s story of a few of their friends playing D&D—he’d be there, too, if it weren’t for his exam. His physics final, on Monday, that he should be studying for. Instead of being on Instagram.

Dean is about to close the app and begrudgingly turn his attention back to his notes when he clicks onto one last story.

HELP NEEDED ASAP, it says, white against a black background, in all caps. Someone who is good at engineering. Or building. Or even just welding things. I’ll pay you, it continues, and then in pizza and beer. Please, in smaller font, directly below.

Dean pauses. He likes beer. And pizza. And building things. He could help out this—who posted this, anyway? It’s a name he doesn’t recognize. casanova.k. He taps on the profile picture. His eyes go wide.

Oh.

That guy. That guy from the hipster art party Charlie had dragged him to earlier in the semester, when she was still dating that art girl, and he’d ended up in a dark room thick with smoke, blurry with alcohol, talking to a guy about three levels of cool higher than him about…something he can’t remember. He just remembers hastily exchanging Instagrams as Charlie dragged him out of the party, ranting about her soon-to-be-ex.

And now he needs help.

Dean looks at his textbook. He looks back at the guy’s—Cas?—Instagram. He takes a deep breath and pulls up a message.

i like beer, pizza, and welding things

It’s smoother than usual, and Dean is proud of himself for about 2 seconds before he panics and ruins it: i’m an engineer, i mean. not just a rando with a thing for power tools, haha.

There’s an achingly long pause before Cas likes both messages.

This is how Dean Winchester ends up standing in the University’s metalwork studio, with 24 hours left until his final exam, staring at a multi-eyed, multi-winged, metal…thing.

It’s due next week, Cas had said. I know it’s last minute. The only studio space I could get was Sunday.

And Dean had said yes, like a fool, because he can never say no to boys in eyeliner with pretty eyes.

Now, staring up at the sculpture, Dean lets out a low whistle. Cas, next to him, groans and drags one hand down his face. “I know. It’s—this is why I need help, alright? I think I can still salvage it if I just—”

Dean, who has taken a few steps forward to admire the intricacies, looks up sharply. “What?”

Cas frowns back. “What?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean—I’m not an art guy, but this metalwork is great, man.” He traces one of the welded seams. “You, uh. Obviously have good hands,” he continues, and then winces. Great compliment.

There’s a soft huff and Dean looks up to see Cas watching him, bemused. “My good hands,” he emphasizes it, and part of Dean wishes he could melt like solder. “Make me a good artist. They do not make me good at making things move.”

Dean blinks at him. “Excuse me?” Move?

Cas frowns again, but it’s more out of worry than confusion. His arms are crossed, and Dean tries very hard not to focus on the black ink swirling down his forearm. “I sent you the plans yesterday.” Now he’s chewing on his lip ring, too, and Dean rips his attention back to the steel structure to stop himself from focusing on that, either. He tries to think about these plans. He remembers getting the text, opening them……and immediately disregarding them in lieu of getting as much studying done as possible. Internally, he groans.

Externally, he nods, pretends to know exactly what these “plans” are. “Sure, yeah,” he covers, and hopes it’s convincing.

The metal…thing, because Dean still isn’t sure exactly what it is, has a cluster of wings in the middle—6, to be exact, and they’re poking up around 3 large rings. He reaches out for one of the rings, right between two of its welded eyes, and gives it an experimental push. It creaks, and sways, and Dean winces when he hears Cas suck in a breath behind him. “Sorry”, he mutters, but when he turns back around Cas is frowning at the art piece and not at him.

Dean is expecting to hear either it’s alright or, more likely, never touch my art again, but Cas just hums and steps up until he’s standing next to Dean. “What do you think this is?”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he arrived, and Dean takes a moment to observe the other student from this distance. He’s wearing black boots, black jeans. A t-shirt with a band on it that Dean has never heard of. His nails are black but the rings he’s wearing are silver, and so is the cross hanging around his neck. His hair looks like he either spent an hour on it or no time at all, and his eyes—like at that party, the one neither of them has mentioned yet—are rimmed in black. Dean, in his sneakers and second-hand jeans and faded Batman shirt, has never felt less cool.

“It’s an angel,” Cas continues, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s given up on waiting for a response or if he’d never expected one in the first place. “A biblical one. You know, the ‘be not afraid,’ kind.” He lowers his voice for the angel impression, which Dean didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know what to do with the realization that it is.

“Don’t think this is what my mom meant when she used to say angels were watching over me,” Dean tries for a joke, and it’s half-hearted, but to his relief Cas chuckles anyway.

“Yes, well. The church preaches them as significantly more…cuddly.” Cas frowns. “It makes praying to them easier to sell.”

The cross around his neck is starting to get confusing.

“And these—these are gonna move,” Dean hazards a guess, reaching out to touch one of the rings again. “All of them?”

“They’re electrons,” Cas nods, which Dean supposes is an answer. “They should all circle the wings together, like the classic atom diagram. But I can’t—” Cas reaches out for the ring this time, hand landing directly above Dean’s. He pushes it, and it sways. Obviously frustrated, he pulls back. “I need it to be motorized, to look right. And I have the motor but don’t know how…to do it.”

And, well. That, Dean understands. He smiles and, in a burst of confidence, claps Cas on the shoulder. Cas looks up at him, startled, but his expression morphs into a soft smile at the look on Dean’s face.

“Let’s get her moving, then.”

He tries not to think about the time slipping away as Cas hauls out the motor, or when he hands Dean tools. He does not stare too long at Cas’ biceps when he’s screwing something in, or when they have to do last-minute welding. They get it hooked up, and it whirs to life, and Dean does not think about how late it is when Cas gives him a hug in his excitement, or when he promises to follow up on his beer and pizza promise at his apartment.

It’s there, back in Cas’ apartment, sitting on his living room floor, both a beer or two in, when Cas finally mentions it.

“You’re the one who gave me that idea, you know.”

Dean stops mid-chew and blinks at him. “Whg—” he swallows his bite of pizza and tries again. “What?”

Cas shrugs and doesn’t make eye contact. He picks at the beer label. “At the party we met at. The one we aren’t talking about, for some reason.”

Dean wants Cas’ ugly, blue, cigarette-smelling shag carpet to swallow him whole.

“You told me you don’t ‘get’ art,” he sets the beer bottle down to do air quotes, and Dean’s shame deepens. “Because you only ‘get’ science. And I told you they were the same thing. And you told me to prove it.”

Suddenly, it clicks, and Dean risks making eye contact. Cas catches his gaze and holds it steady, and he’s calm—not upset, Dean registers, which is a relief. “The atom,” he blurts out, and Cas grins. “Yeah.”

“Art and science.”

“Yeah.”

Dean is sitting up straighter now. “But, the angel—”

Cas sighs and pushes himself up from where he’d been leaning against the couch. He turns until he’s fully facing Dean. “Divinity,” he raises one hand, “and the core building blocks of humanity,” he raises the other. “Art,” he gestures with the first hand, “and science.” With the second.

Dean stares at him. “Are you calling art divine?”

“Art is an expression of divinity,” Cas shrugs. “Science is an explanation for it. But it’s—you know. The same thing.”

Dean wonders how he can say that so casually, so nonchalantly. He wonders what would happen if he crossed the pizza-box distance and kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts instead, and Cas raises his eyebrows. “The party, I didn’t think—I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I assumed you didn’t,” Cas counters. “But you did. You do. Why didn’t you text me?”

It’s exactly what he expected to hear and it still catches him off guard. “Um—” Dean stammers, trying to think of a good excuse. Cas is just watching him—not staring at, watching—brows furrowed.

With a heavy sigh, Dean settles on the truth. “Come on, man. Look at me,” he scoffs and stares down at his jeans, the already worn knees even worse after the day spent kneeling on concrete. “I’m an engineering dork who plays D&D on Fridays and you’re—” he waves vaguely in Cas’ direction. “You know.”

The frown has deepened. “I don’t.”

“Cool.” It sounds so juvenile to say it out loud.

Now, Cas looks taken aback. “Dean. We met at a party where I voluntarily listened to you talk about string theory for an hour and a half.”

Dean doesn’t know if that’s a compliment or not. He buries any possible blush with a swig of beer. “String theory’s cool,” he grumbles into the bottle.

“Yes.” Cas agrees. “And so are you. Although—” he pauses and tilts his head. “I could have sworn you were in physics, based on how much you talk—”

Dean is so caught up in Cas Novak calling him cool that it takes his brain a second to process the word “physics,” but when he does he nearly spits beer all over the ugly carpet. “Shit,” he swears, already starting to scramble up.

“What?” Cas is following him, frowning.

“Physics final. In—” he checks his watch, “—16 hours. I gotta—” he still has time to water down the beer, study, and get at least 7 hours of sleep before—

“…Why did you just spend all day helping me if you have a final tomorrow?” Dean pauses from where he’s trying to find his other shoe to glance back at Cas, who looks so genuinely baffled it shoots a warmness into Dean’s heart.

“You needed help,” Dean shrugs, finally locating the missing sneaker and pulling it on. “Good luck with the angel, though, okay? If it gives you any running issues, feel free to—”

He’s pulling on his jacket when he feels a touch on his arm and realizes that, sometime in the past 20 seconds, Cas has crossed the room to him. “Dean,”

Dean pauses, and Cas…looks nervous.

“I like D&D,” he offers, and Dean stares at him.

“What.”

Cas levels his gaze. “There is nothing more punk than dragons,” he replies, incredibly seriously.

Dean’s brain short-circuits.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the exam panic, maybe it’s the 1.5 beers, maybe it’s Cas’ hand still warm on his arm, maybe he’s still caught up in Cas calling him cool and maybe his brain takes an extra second to load his self-consciousness on its reboot, but—he leans down and kisses him.

Cas makes a small noise but kisses him back almost immediately—but then he’s pulling back nearly as quickly, and he gently pushes Dean back by the shoulders when he tries to follow. Not far enough away to be a rejection, just…enough. “You have an exam in the morning,” he says this like an apology, and the warmth in Dean’s chest grows. “Text me after?”

Dean nods, then pauses, realizes what Cas just said, and nods again. “Yeah, I—yeah, I will.”

“There’s not enough alcohol here for you to pretend to forget this time,” he teases, but he’s smiling.

Dean flushes anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shakes his head and pushes him a bit. “Apologize tomorrow. Go.”

“Okay.” Dean doesn’t move.

“Okay,” Cas replies.

“Okay,” Dean says, and leans down to kiss him again, a quick one, because he thinks maybe he can.

“Okay,” Cas repeats, but his tone is fond. “Go.”

“Okay,” Dean repeats back. But this time, he does.

The next day, after he aces his physics final, he doesn’t pretend to forget.

#destiel #deancas #punk!cas #nerd!dean #i didnt know how to end this lmao sorry!!!!#(also ik this isn't quite as punk as the typical punk!cas im sorry sadhakdsh)#but wow i love these two now #this took me back its been a WHILE since i read/wrote some good punk/nerd #thank u anon #they live in my brain now #my words #follower fics #alcohol mention

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 | Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards. And the press are having a field day. Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt. An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning. Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem. All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

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