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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years ago

Text

just this once pt.6.2

a/n: I’m gonna put as many warnings as I can in this one because it’s fairly dark. Idk if it’s considered “dead dove don’t eat” quality, but I’ve got as many warning as possible just in case

Words: 4,239

Warnings: smut (18+), hate sex, slavery/ownership of mutants, trafficking, coerced consent, sexual exploitation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dubious consent, graphic descriptions of violence and torture, mass murder, swearing, cheating

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

solnishko - little sun

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

Taglist: @bebe404 @strangegardentaco @the-empty-chxld @lgtftchan @m-zne237 @wickedmuses @hopingforromanoff @noodlybees @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @ohfuckno @lenalex78 @mrvvl @alowint @killm3slowly @ llamame-papi

You finally turned the car off and got out, walking around to let Natasha out. The car locked automatically when you closed the passenger door, and Natasha led the way up to the penthouse that had been loaned to the both of you for the night.

Natasha waited for you to open the door for her before walking in. She didn’t know if the cams were in the halls, but it wouldn’t surprise her, so she was going to act the part as soon as possible. It was a beautiful apartment, and Natasha knew she was going to have a hard time telling Roulette no after tonight.

“No mics, right?” You asked as you locked the door again and stayed put.

“No mics,” Natasha reiterated. She held her hand up and gestured you to come closer with a finger.

“How do these people act in private?” You asked as you helped Natasha take her jacket off.

“To each their own, I suppose,” Natasha answered. She didn’t wait for you once the jacket was off. She wasn’t supposed to. And it broke her heart to have to treat you like nothing.

She made her way to the kitchen and looked around. The fridge was stocked, but not with anything she was interested in; you could both eat out later. Eating out would give you both a chance to talk without any pressure of having to play a part.

Once she had become acquainted with everything in the kitchen, she walked out and stopped short when she saw you still standing in your spot. But only for a moment. After her slight pause, she motioned with her head for you to follow her, and explored the apartment until she found the bathroom.

“Cams are in here too,” Natasha said nonchalantly as she started taking her jewelry off.

“No surprise,” you answered, standing in the doorway with your hands clasped behind your back. “She wants to see everyone at their most vulnerable.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve been working out,” Natasha teased. She heard you choke on a chuckle before regaining your composure.

“Indeed you have been,” you answered, a small smile on your lips.

You had chuckled; not quite a laugh, but close. Natasha couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed, not genuinely. Sure, she had heard you laugh at some of the jokes the team made, or when Yelena made a fool of herself as usual. But not a genuine, lighthearted laugh.

And she was getting closer to getting one out of you now. Who knew it would take an undercover mission as owner and pet to make that happen?

Natasha continued walking into the bathroom and found the giant shower. It probably could have held four or five people; she could’ve guessed what activities went on in that shower. She didn’t want to think about it though, didn’t want to think about the countless poor souls that had been used in that shower.

“Can I get anything for you?” You asked, drawing Natasha out of her thoughts.

She turned around and saw you still standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind your back in newly-adopted fashion. Your back was straight, your chin was up, and you looked like you were back in a club. It nearly broke Natasha’s heart to see how quickly and effortlessly you had fallen into your role.

“You don’t have to stand there,” Natasha said, looking back at the mirror before you could meet her eyes.

“We’re being watched,” you said, “can’t necessarily do what I want anymore.”

“Okay,” Natasha said to her reflection. She turned her head to look at you, “then you can start the shower for me.”

You nodded once and walked over to the shower, turning the handle for both shower heads. Some of the water got on your white shirt, leaving see-through spots on your shoulder and back. But you acted like you didn’t notice, instead just doing your job and getting a towel ready.

“Need help?” You asked, motioning towards her dress with your head.

“Sure,” Natasha said softly.

She turned around and felt your fingers at the nape of her neck, grabbing the zipper with deceivingly soft fingers. You stayed silent as you unzipped her dress, and it gave Natasha a hollow feeling in her chest.

You weren’t a pet; you belonged to no one but the sea. Yet here you were, not moving without permission, barely speaking, doing everything for her. It was so unusual for you, so uncharacteristic, and you weren’t a pet.

“Y/N,” Natasha said once you had started to slip the straps off of her shoulders.

“Yes?” You asked. She shivered when your fingers ran over her bare skin.

“You’re not a pet,” she said softly. Your fingers froze.

“I am until we’re done,” you said, voice gruff. “And you left me to be caged like an animal for weeks,” you continued, “so I’m not really sure where you stand.”

“You know I didn’t leave because I wanted to,” Natasha said, spinning around to look at you. She was vaguely aware that she was standing there nude while you were fully clothed, but that was the last thing on her mind.

“Do I?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Yes you do,” Natasha argued back. “Do you really think I would leave you there for no reason?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? You don’t talk about it.”

“I say I’m sorry,” Natasha shot back. “How is that not talking about it?”

“Because you don’t tell me why,” you said, your voice still painfully calm.

“Do you want to know why?” Natasha asked, stepping forward until you were chest to chest.

“Not right now I don’t,” you said, and Natasha could see a spark in your eye.

“Why not? We can only talk when it’s convenient?” Natasha asked again.

“Because I’m not going to argue when I can’t speak freely,” you said with a raised voice.

It was only then that Natasha noticed the red, watery look in your eyes. You weren’t crying; you never cried. But it was the closest you would get to it. The only time you would get this emotional was when mutants were at risk or when you felt dehumanised.

She knew which one this was.

“You’re right,” Natasha said, her voice soft. “It’s not equal, and I’m sorry.”

You nodded and looked away, blinking long and hard before straightening up again and looking back down at Natasha. The glassy look was still there, but it was a little better. At least you could look at her with something other than malice.

“She’s going to have something to say about this,” you said simply.

“Who-” Natasha cut herself off. She knew who.

Roulette, Natasha thought to herself. She hated that woman. Hated everything she stood for. From the cocky grin to the nonchalance of the situation. And then she had the nerve, the fucking audacity to touch you like that? To touch you like she owned you?

“You good?” You asked, drawing Natasha out of her thoughts.

“Yeah,” she said, still to herself. “I’m good.”

“Then you should shower before it gets cold,” you said, motioning to the shower. “If you use all the hot water, I’m making you sleep on the couch for the rest of the mission.”

“You could…” Natasha hesitated.

If she said this, it was going to be crossing a line. She had already crossed the line once, but this? This was different, this was her asking, it was her idea. And what about Maria? She was going to find out about most of the situations, but this one? The one that Natasha would initiate?

“Could what?” You asked.

“You could join me,” Natasha said simply. Screw the consequences. This was a mission, wasn’t it? You had a part to play, right?

“As a pet?” You asked, brow raised.

“No,” Natasha exhaled the word. “But you still need to look the part.”

“I can do that,” you said with a small smile. “It probably looked like I disobeyed anyway,” you continued. “Might need punished.”

“Shut up,” Natasha said with a roll of her eyes. She heard you chuckle to yourself as she finally stepped into the shower.

The water was still hot, far too hot for you, but she liked the way it burned her skin. Liked the way it felt like she was stepping into an inferno. It reminded her that she was alive, she was present, everything was real. You know, the little things.

“Fuck,” you hissed, and Natasha turned her head to see you standing in the corner, away from both shower head streams.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Natasha teased.

“I’m going to boil alive,” you said quickly. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you to turn the temp down on that knob and then get over here,” Natasha continued.

She turned her head when you started moving; you never liked when people saw you nude. But when you still didn’t come closer, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. And it broke her heart.

Your back was still to her, and she could see the scar from your tundra mission and the outline of your spines going down your back. But what really drew her focus were the new scars, the ones you hadn’t had before the extraction.

The whip marks that looked like they had healed poorly. A patch of skin near your right hip looked like it had been cut out, having a lighter shade and different texture. A brand was burned into the base of your neck with a string of numbers and letters.

And that was just your back.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, making Natasha jump and turn back around.

“I’m not staring,” she defended even though you had literally caught her in the act.

“You’re staring,” you said again. “I know I’m stunning, but that’s rude.”

“Wasn’t staring,” Natasha said again.

She jumped out of her skin when she felt your fingers - now slimy under the water - play with her hair, thoroughly wetting it. Your fingers were so soft, so gentle. Given how much blood you had on those hands, how much death, one wouldn’t have expected it.

Your fingers carding through her hair, then rubbing shampoo into it and scratching her scalp. A sigh left Natasha’s lips when you scratched just that right spot, and all of her worries melted away. The only thing that mattered to her in that moment was your hands in her hair, washing it with no intentions, just simple intimacy.

“Do you ever brush your hair?” You asked as you combed out another tangle.

“There’s not point,” Natasha said, “it gets tangled again anyway.”

“You need to learn some self-care,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Turn around,” Natasha said when you were done washing her hair. “Your turn.”

“Can you even reach?” You teased. Natasha slapped your stomach in return.

“Kneel,” Natasha said. When you stayed standing, she raised her brow.

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a shrug.

Natasha watched with bated breath as you kept eye contact with her and sunk to your knees. Even on your knees you were almost eye level with her, and it made her stomach twist into knots. Knowing that you were within such easy access of-

“Gonna wash my hair, or just stare at me?” You asked, drawing Natasha out of her thoughts. Again.

“You’re insufferable,” Natasha huffed before grabbing the shampoo and getting to work.

For all the shit you gave her about her hair being tangled, yours wasn’t any better. It reminded Natasha of seaweed; thick and difficult to get through. But Natasha was nothing if not persistent, and even though it took far too long, she managed to get the tangles out and washed.

“Done?” You asked, looking up into Natasha’s eyes again.

With the water falling onto your head, dripping down your face, giving your skin the shine you got when you were swimming. With your face so close to hers and your body only a few inches away. Knowing you were right there and within such easy reach was just…

It was…

Natasha grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you forward until her lips connected with yours. It wasn’t as rough as that night a few months ago, no teeth were involved. It was rushed, but soft. She could taste the salt on your lips, and it reminded her of home.

You moved to stand up, but Natasha put her hands on your shoulders and pushed you back down. You didn’t fight her, just followed her lead. A shiver went down her spine when your fingers brushed against the sides of her breasts.

“Touch me,” Natasha whispered against your lips.

“She’s watching,” you replied.

Natasha bit back a retort, knowing you were right. Roulette was going to be watching, was going to want to know exactly what she was going to be getting her hands on. Getting her hands on Natasha’s- no. No, you weren’t Natasha’s. She wasn’t even going to allow her mind to go there.

“Sit,” Natasha said, trying to sound stern.

“She can’t hear you, Nat,” you said in a warning tone. But you sat anyway, and now you were finally closer to Natasha’s stomach than her face.

“Can’t act the part if I don’t speak it, can I?” She asked.

“And you call me insufferable,” you teased. But you did as she asked, and stayed still, your hands palm down on your thighs.

“Now you can touch me,” Natasha said after staring at you for a few moments too long.

Your hands reached out and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her closer. If you hadn’t been holding her, she would have slipped on the floor; but you did have her. You always had her. She grabbed your face with both hands again and pulled you into another kiss. One far too soft for the situation

One of your hands started to move, travelling up her side until you brushed the side of her breast again. Natasha let out a huff, but continued kissing you. Always kissing you. Moaning into your mouth when your fingers brushed her nipples, biting your lip when you pinched and twisted and pulled. But always kissing you.

While your one hand was focusing on Natasha’s breasts, your other hand moved down. Across her hip, down her outer thigh, and then pushing against her inner thigh. She spread her legs and was greeted with your fingers circling her clit.

“No foreplay?” She asked.

“You’re already soaked, solnishko,” you mumbled against her lips. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

To prove your point, Natasha felt your finger slide down and slip into her slowly. So painfully slow, Natasha wanted to sink herself down onto your finger if you didn’t hurry. Her breath left her in a huff once your finger stopped, and you stayed deathly still.

“Please,” Natasha asked, begged, whimpered.

“Move back,” you said softly, and Natasha did.

It only took one step before her back hit the glass wall of the shower. You slid forward on the floor, following her, and she was going to ask you what next when you lifted her leg up over your shoulder. She yelped and scrambled to grab purchase of something, anything, but your other hand moved from her breast to grab her ass and thigh, holding her still.

As soon as you leaned forward and ran your tongue up her slit, her head fell back and an ungodly moan escaped from her lips. Your one hand would squeeze her ass, pulling her closer, and your other was moving so painfully slowly inside of her.

Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling when you added a second finger and increased your pace. You laid your tongue flat and licked her clit, waiting for her to flinch and jump, before going back with a stiff tongue to do the same thing.

You ate her out and finger fucked her in a way that had Natasha’s head reeling. Those long slender fingers, already slick even without her arousal, your expert tongue, your hand grabbing her and holding her close as she squirmed. It was almost too much, and Natasha could feel her orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

“Please,” Natasha whined. “Please.”

Not a single word escaped your lips, but Natasha felt you speed up, curling your fingers inside her as you pulled out. Her hands gripped your hair, pulling with each thrust, and when you groaned at the sensation, it was too much.

You held her tight as Natasha’s orgasm rushed over her. Your fingers kept up their pace, and you sucked on her clit just hard enough to prolong her orgasm. Only when Natasha started to whimper did you stop, progressively slowing your fingers until they were still.

The rise and fall of her chest slowed, and you still hadn’t let go of her. You were holding her like your life depended on it. And Natasha had no fear of falling; you would never let her fall. You would keep her up through everything.

She wouldn’t be who she was without you to hold her up.

———

The drive to the club the next night was tense. Natasha could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you, but she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have a choice, she would have to “loan” you to Roulette. The mission had gone on for far too long to get thrown out now.

At least she had gotten your permission to “loan” you out.

You pulled up to the club and got out, tossing the keys to the valet before walking in. Your recent instincts led you to get behind Natasha, a little to the right, taking up your place as a pet once again. The fact that it was becoming so second-nature to you broke Natasha’s heart.

“Master is this way,” Roulette’s pet said once you had both gotten into the club.

The way was the exact same as last time, and Natasha was better prepared for what she was going to see. Roulette was still sitting on her couch, legs crossed, a drink in hand. She was wearing a tight, short dress, and Natasha could guess what was on her mind.

“Welcome back, Miss Craft,” Roulette said with a sickly sweet smile. “How was the penthouse?”

“Exquisite,” Natasha answered with a smile of her own. “I can’t thank you enough for letting us use it.”

Shit.

“Us?” Roulette asked.

“My pet was with me, so yes,” Natasha answered. She kept eye contact with Roulette, daring her to call Natasha out again.

“So you’re one of those who sees their pet as equal,” Roulette smirked, watching Natasha over the rim of her glass as she took another drink.

“Not as equal,” Natasha said, finally moving to sit on the couch. You stood behind her once again. “I would’ve said the same if they were a dog.”

“I can respect that,” Roulette nodded. “Treating your pets properly. Most don’t do that anymore.”

“I would rather keep one pet well taken care of than replace them all the time,” Natasha smiled. Roulette’s pet placed a glass in her hand.

“Well of course,” Roulette nodded. “They’re expensive. Then you have to train the new ones, and it’s too much effort.”

Roulette and Natasha started talking after that. It flowed easily, a bit too easily, but that was alright. Natasha was getting all the information she could have wanted and more. All it took was treating you like a pet.

“I love pleasantries and business,” Roulette started, placing her glass down on the table in front of her, “but I am dying to get my hands on your pet.”

Natasha’s heart raced in her chest. This was the moment she had been dreading, and now it was coming to light. Roulette’s eyes were glued to you, looking you up and down and studying you like she had the night before. It was enough to make Natasha sick.

“I’m okay with a loan,” Natasha said, emphasising the word. “After all, the penthouse was phenomenal.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Roulette purred. She lifted her hand and gestured to you to come closer.

Your movements were stiff, and your eyes darted to meet Natasha’s for only a moment before looking back at Roulette. There was a defiance in your gaze, but Natasha was hoping you would get your act together. The situation was bad, but you were so close.

“Even more stunning the second time,” Roulette said with a smile. “Verbal commands, or hand gestures?” She asked Natasha.

“Verbal,” Natasha said, barely able to get it out of her mouth.

“Perfect,” Roulette said. “Less room for error.” She turned to look back at you. “Kneel.”

Natasha could see your jaw tense at the command, but you did as instructed. Kneeling in front of Roulette, you were nearly eye level with her, too, and that seemed to be just what she liked. She leaned forward and studied your face; for what, Natasha had no clue.

“Your eyes look familiar,” Roulette said softly. Natasha’s pulse sped up. “I’d like to see them under me.”

“Here?” Natasha asked, mentally slapping herself for saying it out loud.

“Of course,” Roulette shrugged. “I’d like to be aware of what I’m borrowing.”

Natasha tasted copper as Roulette stood up and had you sit in her place. She leaned over you and pulled your belt off before proceeding to pull your pants down, revealing the strap that you had, sadly, worn just for her. Something to impress her, to convince her to take you home with her.

“Aren’t you impressive, little dove,” Roulette purred, looking back up into your eyes.

“Would you like me to leave?” Natasha asked.

“Oh no, you can stay,” Roulette said with a wicked grin. “This won’t take long.”

Everything dulled after that. Natasha could barely hear the boom of the music in the club outside, instead only hearing the rush of her pulse in her ears. She saw red, tasted copper, and she wanted nothing more than to throw Roulette out.

But she watched dutifully, biting her tongue again as Roulette lifted her dress and sunk down onto your strap. Heard Roulette’s moans, gentle praises, the sound of her arousal as she bounced up and down on your strap.

Natasha watched your hands, the way they held Roulette by the hips, pulling her down harder so you could fuck her deeper. Noticed the way your eyes stayed locked on her, only her. Her eyes, her breasts, the way your strap disappeared into her time and time again.

And then there were your moans that reached her ears. She would have called it quits, would have stormed out of the room at that moment. No one drew moans out of you like that, no one but her. And there was this woman, this trafficker, making you moan and swear and fuck into her harder than expected of you.

When Roulette came with a groan, you slowed your hips until you were still. You were both sweating and breathing heavily, and Natasha’s stomach was twisting and turning. She wanted to run out of the room and straight to a bathroom to puke, but she couldn’t. She had to sit there and wait for the both of you to recover.

“I knew you were a beast,” Roulette said with a soft smile, “but I didn’t know you could fuck like one.”

She lifted herself up off of you, leaving you to pull your pants up and buckle your belt again. You stayed still, waiting for some other command, but nothing came. No one paid any attention to you; except for Natasha. Just looking at you had her stomach roiling.

“Thank you for that,” Roulette said, and Natasha froze. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

“I’m sorry?” Natasha asked.

“I’ve known of SHIELD’s little monster for years,” Roulette answered with her character smile. “Truthfully I was hoping they would send them.”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Dying your hair isn’t enough to hide your identity, Natalia,” Roulette interrupted.

Natasha’s eyes darted to yours in a mix of fear and adrenaline. She knew Natasha’s name. She knew who you were. Knew that you weren’t human, that you were with SHIELD, she knew too much.

“It’s a shame you hid your mutations,” Roulette said softly, cupping your cheek. “They’re truly something to behold.”

“Don’t touch me,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Hold your tongue, pet,” Roulette said. “You may not belong to Miss Romanoff, but you do belong to me.”

“They belong to nobody,” Natasha said, standing up quickly.

But Roulette was quicker, and Natasha only noticed the gun when it was too late. She heard the shot and felt herself stagger back, but her eyes were on you. You were saying something, trying to stand up, but some of Roulette’s guards had come forward to grab you.

The only thing Natasha could hear was the blood rushing in her ears as she watched you fight back, watched you try to get to her. But you were no match for three guards that were bigger than you. And as the edges of Natasha’s vision started to go black, she saw you being dragged away.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #my writing

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years ago

Note

Idk if its too late to send this in but if it isn't, how about ⬤ and ✿?

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

(note: this MIGHT be cheating but my poor brain was stuck on ideas SO this is a part two to this prompt fill! would recommend reading that first for context, but pretty sure you can enjoy them independently :)

To any other person, the remote cabin would have looked like any old shack – slightly dilapidated, covered in moss, nested away among the trees. But to a lost, soaked, chilled-to-the-bone A, the cabin looks like a warm little slice of heaven, and it takes all they have not to run up the stairs. Instead, they slide an injured B off of their back and help them hobble to the small porch.

The pair limp across the threshold of the cabin and leave the pattering rain behind them, entering a small, spotlessly clean living room that smells of cedar and pine. A large, squashy-looking couch faces a dark fireplace with a tall stack of split logs nearby, and to the right of the doorway is a small kitchen. In the back, A spots a darkened bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet. The cabin's rustic, so there's no electricity or hot water - just a single spigot and a gas stove for cooking.

They set a trembling B on the couch, pushing away the guilt of yelling at them earlier, of making them come out here in the first place.

“I’ll find us some towels and blankets. Can you start getting your wet clothes off?” Amid their violent shivers, B nods and starts shedding A’s raincoat and their own denim jacket with pruned, fumbling fingers. The sight nearly crushes A, but they know someone has to go find blankets to help them both get warm.

A pushes into the bathroom and locates several clean, threadbare towels, then heads to the linen closet. They nearly burst into happy tears when they see the large bundle of hideous plaid blankets and a couple piles of flannel and thermal clothing stacked neatly in the corner (forgotten by whoever rented it last, they guessed) and grab as much as their numb fingers can hold.

When they return to the couch, they find B in nearly the exact spot they left them - denim jacket off one arm, on the other, rain jacket fallen to the floor. They're hunched over, stiff with cold, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh sweetheart.…” A sighs, dropping the blankets on the couch and rushing to them.

“T-tried to ch-change. F-fingers won't-t work-k. I’m s-sorry-”

“B, you have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped you in the first place.” A unthreads the soaked clothing from B’s shaking frame, gently patting their wet skin dry and lightly squeezing the water droplets out of their hair with a towel.

B’s eyes are bleary and unfocused, but they respond to A’s simple commands as they dress them in a pair of warm red flannel pants and a grey thermal long-sleeve. A casts a glance towards B's swollen ankle - it's not the worst injury they've ever seen, but it's definitely got to hurt. They dart back to the bathroom and locate a small first aid kit with a cloth bandage, and tenderly wrap up the sore ankle to immobilize it.

When they’re finished, they wrap B in two blankets: one around their legs and elevated ankle, and the other over their wet head and trembling shoulders. B sneezes, cinches the blanket tighter and groans.

“Look-k like a Russian p-peasant woman.” B grumbles, and A can’t help but let a chuckle escape. They really do look like a grandma, with only their face sticking out of the blanket cape.

“Alright, then, babushka. Let me get a fire started, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Mercifully, it only takes a few minutes for A to get a roaring fire going. A drapes another blanket around B's shoulders and gives them a quick, reassuring rub.

“I’m gonna change, okay? You just worry about warming up.” B moans weakly and pulls the blanket over their nose, edging closer to the flame’s heat.

A peels off their wet clothing in the drafty bedroom, hurriedly drying their own cold skin and pulling on their own warm clothes - a cream thermal and blue flannel pants. The brief exposure makes them shiver, and they chafe their arms and legs to rub away the goosebumps and the damp chill that sinks into their marrow. For just a moment, they acknowledge how cold they are, too. God, they wish this place had hot water.

The adrenaline of the moment begins to fade, and several facts strike them at once. They were freezing. They were stuck in a remote cabin with no electricity for the weekend. This whole weekend was their idea - and all their fault. And they felt guilty as hell about it.

Squeezing their wet hair, they shove the intrusive thoughts from their mind and grab a blanket from the bed to wrap tightly around their own shoulders, along with a couple pillows from the bed for B.

On returning to the living room, they see B managed to hop on their one good leg over to the fire, leaving a trail of two of their other blankets behind. They’re huddled as close as possible to the warm glow, head resting on the hearth. A drops the pillows on the couch and kneels down, running their fingers through B’s damp hair, now exposed by the fallen blanket.

“Feeling any better, love?”

B gives a small, wan smile that fails to light up their peaked face and shakes their head, turning to cough. When they’ve finished, they shudder weakly, pulling the blanket tighter.

“Can’t shake the chill in my bones.” B coughs again. A can see them rubbing their arms under the blankets. “Heat’s bouncing right off me. And I ache all over, not just my ankle.” Another chill rattles their teeth, and they pull the blanket up to their chin. “I just can’t warm up at all.”

A pulls a shivery B into a hug, rubbing their shoulders and trying to share the little body heat they’ve created - unlike B, the fire’s warmth is beginning to thaw them out. In the dim firelight, A can see a sheen of sweat on B’s forehead, and alarm bells go off. Instinctively, A reaches out to press their cold hand to it. It’s warm now. Too warm for someone who just spent two hours trekking through the cold rain.

"Sweetheart, you're feverish. That’s why you’re achy and chilled.”

“S’pose it makes sense. I’m just freezing.” A gust of wind rattles the cabin, and a draft snakes its way into the living room, making B shudder and curl up even closer to A. “I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

“Don’t go all ‘The Shining’ on me yet - we just got here.” A grabs a towel to try and further dry B’s damp hair. It was probably an old wives’ tale, but they didn’t have many options to keep a sick person comfortable out here, and wet hair couldn’t feel good.

B had complained about feeling a cold coming on a couple days ago, and mentioned that they might not want to go this weekend. A had made fun of them for it, joking about how someone like B never let a little cold get them down. And now, thanks to them, B was even sicker. They really were the worst friend in history.

“Do you think you could manage some tea?" A asks quietly. B closes their eyes and nods, laying their head back on the hearth.

 It takes a few minutes, but A manages to light the gas stove and locate a kettle, along with a dusty box of herbal tea tucked away in a cupboard. Whoever they had rented from had stocked it high with all kinds of canned soups and dry goods, so at least they’d be prepared for the long haul.

A sudden glance out the window reveals that the rain has turned into fat, white snowflakes, whirling in the sky and dusting the porch. A rubs their hands together, holding their chilled fingers as close to the stove flame as possible. The kettle whistles and A pours two cups, reveling in the warm steam that tickles their nose.

Once the tea is brewed, they make their way back to the fireplace. B's too weak to lift their own head, so A sits behind them and props them up, holding the teacup and helping them take small sips of the warm liquid. Once the cup is empty, A helps B lay their head back on the hearth before adding a few more logs to the fire and starting on their own tea.

Despite the warm fire, A can feel the ambient temperature of the room dropping. There's no way B's going to stay warm enough in the bedroom, so they’ll just have to make do out here for now.

After pushing the couch until it's just inches in front of the fire, A sweeps B into their arms and helps them back to the couch, easing them gently onto the pillows they've laid and tucking a blanket back around them. Even this close to the fire, the brief movement had set off another round of bone-shaking chills in B, and they grip their blanket so hard A’s afraid they’ll tear it.

“A?" B's voice is weak.

“I’m right here.”

“A, can you hold me? Please?” The desperation is palpable. B’s breathing is hoarse and they're close to tears, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. “Shivering hurts, but I can’t stop. I know you probably don’t want to get sick from me-”

A’s heart breaks. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll keep you warm.” They slide onto the couch and wrap their own blanket around the both of them, pulling B’s fevered body to their chest. B clings to their body, and A can feel the shakes that ripple through them. A gently massages their arms and back in slow circles and B presses closer, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

Finally, A says what’s been eating away at them for hours. “B, I’m so sorry for what I said on the trail. I shouldn’t have said it, and I didn’t mean it. I do want you here. And now we’re here, and you're sick and hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry for that too.” The apology comes out in such a rush, and B is quiet for so long in their arms that they doubt B even heard it.

But then they feel B’s trembling arms squeezing their waist. “Nature’s not your fault, A. Besides, if being taken care of is a part of your apology, it's warm and I'll take it."

A grips B even tighter, fighting back tears. “Whatever happens this weekend, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do. You always have,” B mumbles as they slip into a restless sleep. In front of the warm fire, A reasons that the drafty bedroom was probably too cold for anyone to sleep in. No, they were perfectly content to stay right here with B - and not even the promise of a warm shower could lure them away.

#this is a damn novel but whatev #I loved it too much to stop #sickfic #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #cabin whump #shivering #flu #fever #blankets #hurt comfort #lost in the woods #this was so fun to write #literally sat on this the entire holiday weekend #edited this SO MANY TIMES #this is what happens when you adore a trope #my writing

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get-shiggy-with-it · 4 years ago

Text

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn��t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

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tryingmydarndest · 4 years ago

Text

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

#luka couffaine x reader #luka couffaine #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanfic #miraculous luka #miraculous lb #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #luka couffaine fanfic #luka couffaine imagine #im gonna hate seeing this show up when i search luka x reader #but imma have to deal with it #mmmmmmm #we love anxiety here #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago

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pedro boys + spending habits

word count: fuck if i know, wrote it thru the app

characters: din, marcus m, dave, pero, marcus p, oberyn, max, frankie, whiskey, maxwell, javier, ezra

a/n: idk what caused this to happen but it works i guess. hope they make sense

✨support my ko-fi✨

trust him with your money, your drink, your social security number, everything:

din. this man is barely scraping by on his own when you first meet him. when he adds the kid to the mix, he gets even more frugal than he already is with an old as sin ship that many people are surprised to see fly. he will have a policy of “you earn it, you choose what to do with it” and since he goes after most of (if not all) the bounties to keep you all alive, he has the final say in how most of the credits are spent. he does want you to have nice things though, so he makes sure to configure the budget to where you don’t have to pour your credits into the group’s survival money very often. it’s the least he can do. he’s very big on taking care of his people and will show that in small ways.

marcus m. he’s a single dad for a significant amount of time, he has no choice but to be responsible with his money. he has to take care of missy, keep them both fed and housed and healthy, and that’s not even touching on how expensive all of high school graduation and college will be once she gets there. he teaches missy very early in life how important money is bc he doesn’t want her to ever know how it feels to not have enough. he makes a considerable amount of money w the heroics tho so he can afford to responsibly splurge on you both, but not constantly. is very cautious abt the splurging becoming a habit

dave. yeah he may be a murderer, but he’s scary great at managing his money (to continue being able to murder). he’s got his ex wife’s alimony (that still pisses him off but that’s another story) and two girls he takes care of, there’s no other choice for him either. there’s never a worry about dave having a midlife crisis and spending money on some stupid dad thing (like a motorcycle or assless chaps or a country club membership) because he murders to keep his mind off that sort of stuff. files his taxes diligently every year the day tax season starts and will pass this wisdom to the girls.

pero. he’s very good at judging if you need something or not. if it can’t feed you, keep you healthy, kill someone, or protect you, you don’t need to buy it. definitely not a man who indulges in trinkets and frivolous things that do nothing but weigh down his horse and his person. will encourage this way of thinking with whoever travels with him to whatever extent he can, but won’t be a dick about it if you have something sentimental on your person. if it’s a necessity, he will splurge on a bed and bath at an inn but not much else for a while. cheap because he has to be

marcus p. i don’t think i have to explain this one so i won’t. no i’m not being lazy who said that?

maybe you’ll be fine if he’s in charge. maybe:

oberyn. being a prince (and himself), there are different ways this could go. he spends his money frivolously at brothels & on his daughters + other loved ones (as well as other luxuries) and doesn’t really seem to be the type to keep tabs on it all as he goes. but... he’s a prince in a prosperous kingdom and so there isn’t really a worry for money. he’s known as the red viper for many reasons, including his clever nature and the ease with which he can get what he wants thru whatever means necessary. if you want for something that he can’t buy, you know he will find a way to get it for you (which can be a problem sometimes).

max. he’s good with money in the sense of perpetuating capitalism — that’s the red flag here. hell, he’s gonna be investing into bitcoin and who knows what stock market bs & bc it’s max, of course you trust him. max can’t control the stock market tho, so sometimes things are a little iffy. it always evens itself out though, and you make sure in the future that he invests his money instead of your joint money. he’s still gonna share anyways, it just helps you have a little more peace of mind.

frankie. he just wants to take care of you, okay? you can’t fault him for that 🥺 he maneuvers his budget around to make sure he can do all these nice things for you while leaving his own needs unchecked, which isn’t okay. he just wants to provide for the ppl he loves the best he can, but the problem begins when he starts to think he isn’t doing enough. his insecurity & lack of self-worth (fueled by his guilt for “not being everything you deserve”) is what makes him agree to the Trip™️ in the first place. once he comes back & sees you frantic, only wanting him home and not giving a flying fuck about the money, does he realize that you’re devoted to him and not what he can do for you.

whiskey. working for statesman made him forget what things really cost bc he suddenly never had to worry again about not having enough money. being with someone that isn’t practically made of money will snap him back into reality. he looks at his bank statements and his balance occasionally, but our big spender cowboy hasn’t really counted money as something he worries about for a while. when he constantly showers you in expensive gifts (only the best for his baby, that’s his motto) and you tell him that he has to not do that bc he’ll go broke, he plays it off because he doesn’t remember having to worry. separate bank accounts are only because you want to make sure your money is being spent smartly (even though jack has offered constantly to pay for literally anything you need).

don’t give him anything you want to see again:

maxwell. as much as i love this dork, he’s absolute shit with money. when his business is falling apart (bc he made the stupid ass decision to buy the oil rigs no one wanted bc they weren’t producing oil), he throws it all into saving face and trying to make investors buy into something that isn’t there. what a smart business man would’ve done was liquidate his assets and possibly try to get into a business that will yield at least some profit. he does learn his lesson tho and eventually can be trusted with money, but even he is hesitant to do anything with the household finances. he’s a dreamer, and dreams and money are the same as oil and water.

javier. i know you’re possibly surprised but hear me out. he’ll go all in to get info, whether he’s spending american taxpayer money or his own money or anyone else’s, if it’s valuable info that can be bought, it’s gonna be bought even if he goes without groceries for the next two weeks. before being with you, it was booze and prostitutes and cigarettes that ate away at his checks outside of buying information. the only thing that really changed once you got together was the prostitutes and slightly less cigarettes and booze. however, when he goes back to laredo permanently, he’s perfectly capable of keeping his shit in line. he’ll balance every checkbook in sight and run a tight af ship.

ezra. this man is a scavenger by necessity, a con man by choice. he has a silver tongue and a roguish charm and pretty questionable morals; he’s not gonna have any issue with getting his hands dirty. he’s probably gonna use your joint money to try and pull a fast one on some unsuspecting stranger (“it’ll double our money,” he says, “it’ll be fine,” he says), but then said stranger will end up turning the tables and leave you both absolutely broke. yeah he will feel guilty, no doubt. the only problem is that he won’t take it as a “hey don’t do it again” lesson, it’ll be a “this is how i can improve for next time.” eventually you have to put your foot down and take control of the money and when he realizes that you’re improving your lives much better than he is, he will thank you for it.

all pedro character taglists: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @leias-left-hair-bun @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @captainrexstan @mackstrut @torradoza @simping-for-fives @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @artemis61003 @majorshiraharu @getdookuedon @capricornrabies @max--phillips @darklingveracruz @book-of-anarchy @andysficrecs @purelypascal @whovianwar @lv7867 @hornystarwarsbisexual @kaermorons @princess76179 @pedropasscals @greeneyedblondie44 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @qhbr2013 if you don’t want to be tagged, lemme know!! the link to join is in my bio

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forlornmelody · 3 years ago

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Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse,

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note: Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy?

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?”

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her.

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice.

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb.

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat.

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning.

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances.

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes.

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know.

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then.

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah?

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder.

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while.

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach.

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short.

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly.

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin.

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door.

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move. “Right, sorry.”

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive.

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming.

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.”

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle.

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it.

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead.

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously.

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair.

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”

#melody writes #jayrose #redarse #dc comics #jason todd #rose wilson #roy harper #jayroy #lime #been kind of a rough evening so I posted this to cheer myself up #lemme know if you like it #bi!Jason

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sharkmobster · 4 years ago

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more funtime found family au stuff but this time focusing on funtime freddy and michael's relationship. it's incredibly rambly and turns into off-kilter dialogue but i gotta get this off my chest.

tw mentioned child abuse/death

• doesn't actually like michael (at first) even tho i draw them hanging around each other a lot

• bon bon is the only reason he does loaf around him. (bon bon and bonnet being the only ones who like Michael in the beginning.) They're attached to each other so it's inevitable that they would hang around mikey.

• ft freddy plays really mean spirited jokes on michael bc he's not allowed to harm him. he has to get real creative. (ft freddy has a lot of anger inside of him. people write him off as being dumb and goofy but really that's just a mask that he put up so he didn't scare people away. of course the funtimes know how he is, knows who he is right to his core bc they're all connected on a deeper/technological level.)

• (slaps funtime freddy. this bear can fit so much trauma and abandonment issues in him!)

• can be incredibly vindictive when he wants to be and takes out a lot of his agression on Michael. michael shares the afton name (bc he sure as hell doesn't look like william in my au lol) and that alone is enough for ft freddy to bully him.

• (the funtimes blame william for abandoning them so ft freddy takes it especially personal when his ankle biter comes around to "liberate" them. and on some deeper level freddy is just terrified that michael will abandon them all, just like willy did. he never voices this of course. opting to show his apprehension and fear in a more destructive way, pushing Michael further away.)

• canon ft freddy: sinister but still goofy and knows how to have a good time

my ft freddy: goofy and repressed anger issues, doesn't know how to enjoy himself without causing someone some kinda pain.

• michael gets fed up with being terrorized eventually and confronts him, and ft freddy drops the silly act for a bit just ready to blow up at him. (he can't even place why he's still so angry at michael when really he's been nothing but hospitable and accomodating to their wants and needs but fuck he's just so wound up he doesn't know what to do) michael compares him to william during the argument (cruel and vindictive just like william wanted) and ft freddy nearly rings his neck, absolutely seething but bon bon doesnt let that happen of course. (idk if this is confirmed canon but bon bon was designed to placate freddy. he raises his voice even slightly and bon bon's petting his face, stopping him from getting even more agressive)

• ft freddy shuts down after the confrontation ends (emotionally, anyway) and the blow out itself is completely anti climatic, nobody getting hurt. he ends up isolating himself from the others with bon bon hovering around like a concerned mother hen. Baby and the others give him space but michael (after he cools down anyways) won't leave him alone.

• See the thing is: Michael understands. Michael understands more than anyone what it's like to feel so deeply, what it's like to hate and hate and to keep hating until that rage is your whole life. It's suffocating. and he had to deal with that all on his own, choking on his own grief and rage without anyone to guide him. (his brother is dead bc of him and he carries that with him everywhere he goes, in everything he does.)

• They're living in the countryside of France at this point in time, far off from any wandering eyes, a thick forest surrounding their home. Freddy has a few hiding spots that he scouted out within the first few days of staying there. And that's where Michael finds him, hiding out in a small alcove by the a creek, throwing rocks at the trees (and sometimes wildlife).

• freddy doesn't aknowledge him, ignoring him like a child would and bon bon frets nervously between them, not wanting another fight to break out. Michael tells them that he's not here to fight anymore, he just wants to talk. you like to talk, don't you? and freddy doesn't say anything, running his fingers through the dirt, absentmindedly.

• michael asks bon bon to leave so that they can have a private convo and bon bon freaks out like absolutely not, he might hurt you and michael asks freddy directly like "are you going to hurt me?" freddy still isn't talkative, and he's rigid when he shakes his head no after a bit of silence. Bon Bon asks if he's alright with him leaving and freddy just shrugs, still staring at nothing in the distance. bon bon hesitates for a few moments before finally leaving, telling Michael to call out to him if he's in danger but michael rushes him along.

• it's just them now, nothing but the sounds of nature around them. michael asks how he's feeling and freddy shrugs again. Michael strikes up a one sided conversation, stepping closer and closer to him over time not really getting any kinda response out of him but eventually, during his rambling, freddy finally looks at him and says "Y-You just don't get-get it." and then goes back to the silent treatment.

• Michael's quiet, having made his way up to standing right next to freddy (he's only a tiny bit taller than him when he's just sitting like that). he nods his head, considering something for a while until finally he goes "Did I ever tell you about what it was like? Ya know. Being William Afton's golden child?" freddy doesn't say anything but he pauses from drawing circles in the dirt, tilts his head just a fraction to let mikey know he's listening.

• michael stares at the creek. "He wasn't the most outwardly loving father. Wasn't really the nicest one, either. But, I wanted his approval so bad, I'd do anything for it." Freddy slowly turns his head to watch him carefully. that's got his attention. "I did a bunch of stupid shit back then, all cause I wanted to be noticed by him. But all that attention went to my little-" and michael draws in a sudden breath, pained. stays silent for a moment, working up the courage to speak. "I did something awful to my brother. All for my father. And it's an awful thing to say but his death didn't matter. Pops didnt bat an eye and Mom was too far gone by that point after Elizabeth...." he looks back in the direction of the cottage. "Well.... you know what happened to Elizabeth." Freddy's stare is hard and unyielding. "He's gone now and I was the only one who cared enough. His fuckin' abuser cared more for his passing than his own father did."

• "He threw me into the basement. Did you know that?" Michael bounces from one foot to another, anxiety written into his very bones. he's lost in his rambling now, having never spoken these words out loud to anyone. "I killed his son and he locked me away in the dark for three years." Freddy fully turns to give Michael his undivided attention, stock still, hanging off of his every word. "I got out. Eventually. I ran away and lived on the streets for years until someone got a hold of me. Told me my old man was missing, presumed dead. Got a pretty penny from the fazbear business he co-owned with Mr. Emily. Things were going good, I guess. I was overwhelmed for the most part, didn't do anything other than bounce around from hotels every few days. In some way, I felt like he was still out there, watching me. I just kept running. And then i found out about you." He glances at freddy and looks away quickly when he finds an unblinking visage staring back. "Found out about all of you. Locked away in a storage facility for over 30 years. In the dark. All alone." an incredibly long silence stretches out between them, freddy fidgeting, hyperaware of every noise going on around them.

• "You think I don't get it. But I do. I think I understand you more than anyone could." Michael's staring back at him, raw emotion across his face, eyes soft with empathy and that's what makes Freddy turn away from him. Suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't want to fight with you. Not you. Not Ballora, or Foxy, or Eli-" He visibly winces, but regains his composure. "...I just... need you to understand that I want to help."

• Freddy's never been so quiet, and it's such an odd sight. Michael's not sure if he should say anything else or if he should leave the bear alone. the bear speaks up, finally "W-We could've kill-killed you."

• "That was always a possibility, yeah. I woulda deserved it." Freddy's not sure if he likes the way Michael talks about himself sometimes. "I needed to get you guys out of there, though. That was more important than whatever could've happened to me." Michael huffs. "Besides, if I hadn't bailed you guys out then I would've never gone to Paris. Ballora has good taste in real estate, I think." and despite everything, freddy lets out a sudden breath that could've been mistaken for a sensible chuckle. Michael smiles anyway.

• Things settle down afterwards, though there's no bite to Freddy's jokes now. They're not as close as Michael wants, Freddy still keeping his distance, keeping his walls up but it's something.

• Freddy starts watching horror movies with him late into the night and until dawn. Doesn't let Michael sleep in afterwards and he might just regret this but it makes Freddy happy. Things go back to normal in the cottage, as normal as things can be for a motley troupe like them anyways. Michael starts laughing at his jokes more.

#funtime freddy #michael afton #ft freddy #fnaf #sorry for the long winded ramblings but i love these two and wanna develop them in thr au #long post #robot talks #funtime found family au

143 notes · View notes

defstolemyheart · 4 years ago

Text

hasty - hwang hyunjin (m)

tags: smut, explicit sexual scenes/descriptions, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) note: crossposted from instagram on February 9. I actually have a song included for the title slide on instagram, but I can’t put videos up here I guess :< this is my first smut here dhsjdhasj idk how to feel about that ahahha oh and I recommend listening to Too Fast by Sonder while reading! word count: 2.7k Tonight he wanted to savor you. Slowly.

Impatience.

That was his brand.

Most people around him knew well how Hyunjin prefers to have things done without delay - be it studying, assignments or work. He would always try to be two steps ahead, even better if he could wrap them up long before the due time was up.

He always got his notes and readings done even before anyone else started and finished his papers at least a week before the deadline, allowing himself time to review them as he saw fit. He would never fail to check the stocks for the cafe every shift, making calculations that proved to be useful to expect what they might or might not need.

Hyunjin found comfort in his system. Found peace within his rushings.

If he let things sit for too long… he would lose his mind.

There was a reason he rarely visited the campus coffee shop. Not only because of their weak excuse of double shot iced americano, the bumbling barista was far too slow for his own good. Hyunjin would always end up tapping his shoes in contempt for a cup of coffee that was far too weak for his system, dampening his mood and driving his patience to run thinner for the rest of the day.

Even his friends were not spared of any bit of patience, no matter how close or long they have been with him. Hyunjin could not count the many instances where he would go inside the movie theater right on the five minutes dot before the movie began, not caring if Jisung or Felix would come running with an apology drawn in smiles, because he was far too anxious to be late for himself than having to care if his friends would be mad at him for leaving them behind (they never got mad, which Hyunjin was thankful for).

And his night life was like that too.

Friday night outings with his best friends meant putting on clothes that left nothing for others imaginations and heading to poorly lit clubs to chase highs with people seeking cheap thrills and momentary bliss. It meant exchanging hungry gazes to people who looked interested enough to touch with intent, who was willing to be pressed against the wall, or brought to an empty toilet stall for heated kisses and searing touches that never lingered.

That was sex for Hyunjin. Not too short to be unpleasurable, yet never too long to leave attachments. Just enough. Any longer than necessary and his skin would prickle; uncomfortable and disgusted.

Until he met you.

Eyes meeting yours under the scattering crimson light at Minho’s frat house party one Saturday night, he could not miss how you were practically undressing him with just your gaze.

Impatient.

Highly impatient.

It was intriguing, deeply amusing, meeting you.

Someone who kissed without wasting a breath, always so pliant and eager from the very first touch.

Someone who made a quick work for him, tugging on his hand to touch your already soaking slit under the skin tight black sequin mini dress that made your skin glow so beautifully, even under the dim lights of the frat house bathroom.

Someone who was not shy to ask him to do it faster, harder, to have him leave litters of bruises on the soft expanse of their skin as their hips met his thrusts, and coyly walked away from him once you were both spent.

As if nothing happened.

Names were not exchanged, and he never found it to be necessary before. Because before that, once was always enough.

Yet Hyunjin spent the rest of that night wishing he had taken more time with you, and it was a jarring thought for him. Then he spent his Sunday trying to remember the taste of your lips and the tight slickness of your core- he wished the day would pass faster, wished to find you again as soon as he could.

Come Monday, by the grace of the universe, his wish came true. It arrived in the form of you striding across the quad, a soft smile on your lips yet the hunger in your eyes was not amiss by him.

You didn’t say a word as you pulled him to the library, leading him to the emergency staircase in the back of the building that nobody ever visited. He smiled as you pushed him to sit on the steps as you straddled his laps and captured his lips between yours like you have been starved for months.

With each quick flick of your wrist as you stroke his length, and rapid sinking of your heat around him, Hyunjin felt fire running under his skin.

It was as if he had found his match.

Someone whose patience ran much thinner than him- an absolute rarity.

And with each quick and searing encounters between you and him after that, he found himself hooked to you, unable and unwilling to let go.

With both of you preferring to move with the same speed, it was comforting for the both of you to stay together. No time was ever wasted, no touch ever more than necessary.

It was perfect.

Yet the longer he stayed with you, he found something in him changing- a thought growing..

He wondered if he could push your buttons, as slow as he possibly could.

The thought was fleeting at first, but it stayed, and festered, and surprised him.

Because he never desired slowness, never one to waste time, yet... the thought of having you under him, screaming, panting or crying simply because he was taking too much of his sweet time? It made his blood rush with excitement.

He let the thought simmer in the back of his mind. Letting his brain work its storms of ideas, even as he catered to your wishes of fleeting pleasures- of quick pumps of his fingers or hard, unrelenting thrusts of his hips.

He smiled as he planted chaste kisses on your skin after another quick fuck session, thinking of the right moment for the grand scheme in his mind.

For the first time in his life, he found himself patiently waiting for the perfect chance.

No longer finding the need to fuck random strangers every other weekend, Hyunjin’s Friday nights were now reserved for movie nights with you in his apartment. It was for snuggling close to each other with a large bowl of microwave popcorn on your lap and a cold can of sparkling juice in his hand, with the both of you choosing movies without a second thought.

You called it movie nights, but most times the popcorn would be left to stale on the coffee table and whatever movie was up on the screen ignored as you ride him hard on the couch, or have him fuck you to screaming from behind. Then after all the highs, you would turn sleepy, and clingy, and rush him to carry him over to his bed where you would lay fast asleep.

Hyunjin watched the screen mindlessly, not really paying attention to the storyline because you were in his mind. He tried his best to suppress the smirk about to grow on his lips as he sensed you shifting restlessly next to him.

It always started that way: you shifting around the couch, then suddenly straddling his lap and pulled his lips between yours and begging for him to fuck you already, and he would always welcome it.

Not tonight. He rolled his lips under his teeth, feeling an amused laugh bubbling yet contained his chest.

As expected, you moved; caging his hips with your legs, one hand firm on his shoulder, another clutching on his sweater clad arm. He ran his gaze quickly on your figure; from your messy hair, to your lust clouded eyes, wet parted lips, to the skin peeking from the collar of his way-to-big of a hoodie on you, down to the hem of it, resting on your thighs. He was pretty sure you had nothing underneath. You never did.

The epitome of lust, wrapped as an adorable figure drowning in his clothes.

Abso-fucking-lutely alluring.

Hyunjin tugged the hand you have on his arm gently, bringing it close to his lips. He placed tender kisses on each of its knuckles, and caught the way your skin shivered with each touch. He continued on, planting barely there touches with his lips all over the back of your hand, feeling your eyes widening at his ministrations.

“What are you doing?” you asked, breath catching in your throat.

Hyunjin hummed, pressing his lips on your slowly heated skin one more time before looking up to meet your confused eyes. “Nothing.”

Your brows knitted together, definitely unconvinced of his words. “Weird.”

He just smiled, letting your hand go to snake his own behind your neck, pulling you down for a kiss. It was open-mouthed, wet, and searing, as it had always been. Hyunjin could hear your breath hitching with each licks of his tongue on your soft palate, with the caress of his fingers on your nape, encouraging you to deepen the kiss.

You slid down, chest heaving and rubbing against his. Even through both of your clothes, he could feel your nipples hardening, perhaps anticipating for him to twist them the way he usually would. It pulled a chuckle from Hyunjin, whose other hand now toyed with the hem of your hoodie, feeling the skin of your thigh tensing from the touch.

Your hips rutted against his crotch, seeking to alleviate the growing pressure and Hyunjin very nearly gave in to your ministrations, close to pulling his cock out of his sweatpants and fuck you right there and then, but no-

Not tonight.

Just as he guessed, you weren’t wearing underneath the hoodie. His hot palm slid on the skin of your side easily, bunching the hoodie up slightly and made you shiver as the slightly chilly air of the room hit you. He snaked his arm around your naked waist, though his lips did not leave yours, teeth nipping on them just the way you like it.

You pulled away for a short take of breath and Hyunjin used the chance to flip your back onto the sofa, making you squeal in surprise before he leaned back in to capture your lips, this time in a slow, languid kiss, and he could taste the shock of it on your tongue.

Because he never kissed you like this.

You kissed him back, though urging him to quicken his pace but Hyunjin did not relent. He kept nibbling gently, licking softly, and whimpers began to fall from your lips. It made Hyunjin’s skin prickle, but not in discomfort.

It made him want more.

He left your lips, making you whine and he knew then that your patience had begun to run thin. Apparent from the glaze of lust on your eyes, from the twitching of your thighs and the writhing of your hips.

“Hyunjin-” you panted, fingers clutching on the hem of his hoodie. “Fuck me-”

Hyunjin shook his head, earning him more of your whines. He dipped down, lips ghosting over your ear. “Not now.”

“Please, Hyunjin-” you took one of his hands and let it brush over your slit- soaked and a mess, wanting nothing more than his cock filling you in quickly. “I need you.”

He chewed on his lip, bruising even more than it already was. “I know, but will you let me do something first?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the sound so clear to his ears. “What?”

“Let me take my time.” he pressed his lips softly on your cheek, feeling the slight dampness that rolled from your eyes in frustrations. “Please.”

He expected you to say no. Knowing you, he actually held no expectation that you would allow more time than necessary for this sort of intimacy. But then he felt your head moving, nodding, and that was it for him.

His lips made trails of wet kisses from your ears to your collarbone, sucking lightly on the sensitive patch of skin you have near your sternum. He shifted, sliding down further down your figure. His hands pressed on your legs, urging you to allow him space between your thighs.

Goosebumps formed across your skin as his lips found it once more, kissing the inner side of your left thigh and he slowly made his way back up, leaving barely there marks as he moved slowly.

You writhed as he closed in to your heat, and nearly screamed as he ignored it, moving further up to kiss around your waist. Your fingers tried to find purchase on something, anything, to relieve the tension, and they ended up on your own breasts, cupping and kneading them roughly over the hoodie.

Hyunjin heard your stifled moans and struggled to keep his own in his throat as he saw you pulling on your hardened buds over his hoodie, frustration clear on your twisted expression. His sweatpants felt taut and constricting, and once more, he fought over his desires to bend you over and mindlessly fuck you.

Tonight he wanted to savor you. Slowly.

He slid his hand between the hoodie and your skin, making you gasp and have your hands pulling away from your breast to cover your mouth because his touch felt like seething fire on your already heated skin. Hyunjin lifted the cloth just enough to reveal your chest, hungry eyes marvelling the softness of your skin.

Hyunjin dipped down, curious tongue finding your nipple. He relished the slight taste of salt on the skin, teeth pulling on the bud and drawing the most desperate sound from your chest- one he had never heard before.

Fuck.

Desire thrummed in his veins, prickling harder on his skin. His other hand trailed down between your legs, finding the slick opening of your core, twitching and begging so pitifully to be filled.

Hyunjin slipped a finger in so painfully slowly, his lids fluttering close as he tried to concentrate on feeling your velvety heat around him. Your legs fell open further besides him as he slid in a second digit, dragging in and out of you in a lengthy, excruciating pace that he knew was not enough for you. He captured your nipple with his lips again, giving it a thorough suck just as he crooked his finger on the soft spot behind your clit, causing you to scream, back arching so prettily off the couch.

More of those delicious desperate sounds escaped your lips as he pulled his fingers out, and Hyunjin could feel his own arousal screaming underneath his skin, coiling tight in his stomach.

You choked out a sob when he left your skin and suddenly licked a thick stripe starting from your swollen, throbbing clit, down to your aching entrance. He didn’t stop, tongue continuously flicking over the sensitized bud and occasionally dipping into your core, teasing you further, making your thighs shake from the tension. His fingers found comfort back in your slick heat, scissoring you open tenuously as his tongue delved alongside them.

Begs spilled from your throat, sounding raw with tears, and he could feel it- the neediness growing incessantly in your nerves, so apparent by the way your velvet walls twitch violently around his fingers. He pressed deeper, dragged slower and more of your cries filled the room.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly. Hearing how you would be under prolonged, lingering pleasure, he regretted not thinking of this sooner.

His plush lips pressed on your clit, suckling on it sweetly as he continued pumping in and out of you leisurely. His actions drew out more of your moans, slowly turning into muffled grunts as you bite onto the sleeves of his hoodie just to hold on to the last remnant of sanity.

Hyunjin was not sure if he could ever go back to quick fucks and fast highs with you now. Not when seeing you under him like this made him feel so good, so damned accomplished.

“Hyunjin-” he smiled at the desperation in your voice. “Please? Fuck me?”

He took his time pulling his digits out of your drenched cunt, enthralled by the sound of your whine, He brought his fingers to his mouth and savored your sweet taste again before coming on top of you, arms caging your head. He could see himself reflected in your glossy, despairing eyes, and it made his heart swoon and his skin prickle again, lustful.

“Don’t be too hasty baby.” he kissed you softly, breath ghosting over your trembling lips.

“We’re just getting started.”

83 notes · View notes

arthurtristankingsmen · 3 years ago

Text

More and longer theory chatter with @flash-the-geist with guest stars who popped in. This one is longer since it’s theorizing but turned into something Flash affectionately named the ‘Esprestissimo AU’ which I am keeping because I love it so much.

Most of this mainly features Duet thoughts and then shenanigans ! The most I did was add a missing thing in my own comments for clarification or that my brain skipped over when typing it before, or where I adjust the order of the messages for cohesiveness

please enjoy jdjd

flaaaash — Today at 4:35 AM

hmmm what if the note-taker is Duet, taking notes about "Solo"? that implies they're two different people

Arthur — Today at 4:36 AM

that's what i was thinking-- that the ‘He’ in the note is reverb, and this note is in reference to reverb, but also a comment on Solo, and the Duet 'wrote' this character profile as like-- a case file if they're in charge of the organization

so duet is like 'solo' claims she still needs to study him for research in a note on the file he's taking on reverb or something like that

flaaaash — Today at 4:37 AM

this might be my deep, unfortunate familiarity with bureaucracy talking, but- if the person in charge is also the one taking notes, it's a very small organization

Arthur — Today at 4:37 AM

oh yeah

i imagined it was tiny personally

tempo seems on the smaller side so if it's all based there, i was imagining it was relatively small

flaaaash — Today at 4:38 AM

not international then, perhaps

adkjfakjf oooh now I want to make a little card for Flash

Arthur — Today at 4:39 AM

yeah no-- at least since the name tempo of the town following the motif like seemingly implies it's based in/related to the town since if follows the reference style

or that's my thinking anyways?

flaaaash — Today at 4:39 AM

very true

imagine if Tempo is just Like That and the rest of the world is totally normal

Arthur — Today at 4:40 AM

i personally think vivi didn't grow up in tempo now more tho-- because i think if she did and there is an organization, they woulda gotten wind of her and she probably would've been recruited since she's smart and clearly into that kind of thing

and if she was in the org and knew what she was doing, i don't know if she would've gone to the cave if she was at all in the Know

flaaaash — Today at 4:40 AM

or they would have tried to study Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:41 AM

that too!!

even if they brought her in just because of mystery i imagine they would've brought her in

flaaaash — Today at 4:41 AM

maybe that's what the "her research into "REDACTED" is referring to. Research into mystery?

it all does seem to come back to him

Arthur — Today at 4:42 AM

or maybe she's relatively new to tempo still, and duet gave her a job because they intended to bring her in at some point but hadn't yet

like there were steps to take and like-- the cave happened before things could get fully underway

i mean at my job i applied in like-- march, and i didn't get an interview until may, and then i didn't get any training until november, and then i didn't get brought in to learn the job until december. so it'd be easy to imagine that if there was a reason, bringing her in could be a slow process

flaaaash — Today at 4:43 AM

that might also explain why there were all these "go back" signs in the cave

clearly someone with English language skills put the signage there

Arthur — Today at 4:43 AM

that too! it definitely felt like it was to warn off people and keep them from tresspassing

but the gang were kids and also ghost don't haunt the places that aren't super scary and dangerous! so of course they gotta go in!

flaaaash — Today at 4:45 AM

maybe they weren't expecting someone like Vivi at all

she was a wild card that popped up and threw a spanner in the works accidentally

Arthur — Today at 4:45 AM

yeah!

i can imagine her just coming in and completely bamboozling everyone

duet is like 'okay we'll get her in on this but we'll take some time to sort everything and judge where she's at skill wise since we have time and it's not like she can get into any danger with all our protective me--oh no'

flaaaash — Today at 4:48 AM

that calls Duet's motivation into question a lil bc - there's at least a significant amount of time between Lewis dying and them finding him again

since their search is reasonably extensive and Arthur's had time to heal up. So why didn't Duet do anything during this time?

Arthur — Today at 4:50 AM

hmmmm--- well we know it's been less than a year since the cave happened at least, and i think the way Ben talked about it sounded like it was a relatively short time table of only a few months, so maybe they wanted to give them recovery time or they weren't sure how to broach it-- i'm not sure. maybe the comic will give some kind of insight hopefully if the case is that vivi came in like that

i feel like it'd be interesting and make more sense given what she has available magic wise and mystery-wise if she wasn't in town until much later in life to explain why she wouldn’t already be working with the organization. but i'm still like hmm

because you do have a point that there would be a fair bit of inaction, unless for some reason vivi's memory issues or something was a problem or something happens in the prequel to explain or hint

tho now that brings into question if duet knows Lewis is dead, how are things not being managed better

i mean i've had arthur say in the past and i've said once or twice that like-- i think arthur was already working with prosthetics. so he could've had an arm mostly built and just had to make a more functioning one so that could've been fast. so hopefully maybe the prequel comic is set a bit before and might explain duet helping or something in a way that could make sense of it?

especially given he did make galaham's wheels already and such. he might've already built one but needed to make a new one set up for him

flaaaash — Today at 4:54 AM

I'm fairly sure people would at least know he's missing

I guess it's possible that the 'memory magic' thing that makes Vivi forget - it could affect everyone except Arthur and Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:56 AM

that's possible--

we have only seen mystery and arthur in the world seeming to know what's going on, so we don't know who knows what. just that vivi doesn't know lewis

but maybe nobody else does either to some degree

flaaaash — Today at 4:56 AM

Arthur being possessed at the time, and Mystery being a magical being himself. We don't have any evidence that anyone else remembers Lewis, although he seems to still be in pictures

Arthur — Today at 4:57 AM

people did seem confused arthur was freaking out in the store in the comic and like

idk. if i knew he lost his best friend i'd be more sympathetic/not look at him like he was crazy. I’d assume something set him off but probably feel bad for him if i knew what happened in the last year?

because i would imagine mental health is in the toilet after going on a trip and losing a friend even if he was only 'missing'

and the way arthur mentioned lewis and when vivi forgets he's just like 'nevermind'. if no one really remembers Lewis, then maybe giving up trying to explain is because he’s used to no one knowing who he means

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

yea h

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

what if arthur only remembers lewis? (and mystery does)

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 4:58 AM

In fairness most people would be confused if they saw someone having a panic attack in public, no matter how much was known about the person

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

also if Lewis looked like himself for a moment just before dropping Arthur - does that mean Lance saw him?

or did he only see skele-version and thus didn't recognize him as Lewis

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

hmmmmm--- i lean to skele vision. he turned back pretty quick iirc

flaaaash — Today at 4:59 AM

I'm torn between analysing between a storyteller perspective and an in-world perspective

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

por que no los dos?

also

hmmm-- i think given people were like 'what's up with that guy', it seemed either not knowing what was going on with him or what it could stem from, but if lewis disappeared in a small town i feel like a lot of the details would've spread. so they might assume it had to do with that instead-- so it feels like maybe most people don't know

which seems strange in a smaller community because stuff gets around

flaaaash — Today at 5:01 AM

especially since the Peppers own a restaurant

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

yeah-- in a small town place a restuarant is usually a social hub of sorts

so if lewis disppeared i'm sure people would talk given he was a waiter and thus kind of a face for the restaurant

flaaaash — Today at 5:02 AM

also if they think he's missing and not dead, his family would be looking for him too. which means missing persons pics and all that

Arthur — Today at 5:02 AM

yeah and we didn’t see any. and some people not knowing or visitors i could get, but everyone seemed surprised by arthur freaking out, and if they knew lewis was missing and lewis and arthur were friends, it feels odd to like-- none of them to even look sympathetic

i would imagine if they knew lewis was gone they'd assume arthur would be more emotionally reactive than usual-- unless they have no idea that something is going on with arthur because you know-- lewis is erased jdjd

i mean the reason we know vivi doesn't remember is because her eyes glowed as lewis got phased out of the photo

but who knows maybe him being phased out was in general and that just meant she was affected too. everyone gets amnesia

flaaaash — Today at 5:03 AM

also slightly cracky theory but - if they ended up accidentally in the research facility during Ghost, that would explain why Vivi found a fully-stocked fridge alkja;gl

Arthur — Today at 5:04 AM

DSJDDLJSDLFJDSJL

that would be hilarious

lewis is his own scp in his tantrum mansion

they just keep an eye on the lot

flaaaash — Today at 5:05 AM

well what else are they gonna do with him??? xD

Arthur — Today at 5:05 AM

dslsdjdsfljdsfd

''welp no one knows who this guy is soooooo manor in the middle of nowhere time'

flaaaash — Today at 5:06 AM

"so the waiter turned into a vengeful spirit?" "oh uhhhh ok put him in a box i guess until we figure something out?"

ok theory- Duet knows Lewis is dead, but is trying to figure out a way to help/break the memory magic on Vivi, and that's why he's in the mansion/cave for a while before Ghost?

Arthur — Today at 5:06 AM

i like it! i think them knowing and approaching arthur in the comic and using 'rancid vibes' as an excuse would make sense

flaaaash — Today at 5:07 AM

"so that Vivi person wandered in again somehow and now the vengeful waiter ghost is loose?" "for fuck's sake you had ONE JOB-"

Arthur — Today at 5:07 AM

they know what's actually going on but they kinda act like everyone else while also getting arthur something that might help him in that book that i think will be important in the plot of the prequel

DL;G;HDGSAL;HKGSDHL;DGS

flash you have the biggest brain

flaaaash — Today at 5:08 AM

,kadjgalgkj

"also there was this killer tree-" "I do not care about the tree, one problem at a time"

Poor Duet is having A Week

but the mental image of them trying to avoid Arthur and Vivi investigating, while trying to find ??? and re-capture him while shoving Lewis in a box is hilarious, and then they run into Shiromori and just throw their hands in the air like "can u not????". And then Murder Mystery shows up and they just quit

Arthur — Today at 5:10 AM

dlaajldkljjdl;dldjlfkfd

duet is just like

on their tenth cup of coffee

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:10 AM

Arthur: Those are rookie numbers

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

they see murder mystery and go back inside the shop like 'can you add like 5 espresso shots to this'

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

explains why they're like "Arthur pls your vibes. Do you KNOW what I've been dealing with"

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

asdl;;dfslhsdahg;as;dghkghsdllhsgd

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

"five extra shots and a red bull chaser please-"

Arthur — Today at 5:12 AM

(also just still crosses my fingers for medium/spiritually-sensitive!arthur to be canon but if not it will live on in my fannon)

dsldjllssfdf

they just start shoving coffee grounds directly into their mouth

flaaaash — Today at 5:12 AM

this series has a lot of antagonists

akjdalgj just crunching beans down whole

Arthur — Today at 5:13 AM

i need-- to draw duet

looking tired with a coffee

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

Duet with a giant cup of coffee, staring at Murder Mystery with a deadpan stare and going "Absolutely not, I forbid it, there is not enough coffee in the WORLD."

Arthur — Today at 5:14 AM

flash and will if i share this chatter on tumblr would you be okay with it ? or would u rather i block out names if i do

i feel like some of this is hilarious and people need to experience it

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

akdflaf no go for it

I will out myself as a sham of a storyboarder

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

duet is that gif of the ghost busters lady going 'mmm nope not today, room full of nightmares'

and turning and walking away

duet is doing their best and needs a nap

tired as Arthur

flaaaash — Today at 5:15 AM

Duet walking around the corner to see the gang facing down Murder Mystery: swivels on one foot and goes right back the way they came

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

ldjldljd EXACTLY

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:16 AM

Heheheheh

Arthur — Today at 5:16 AM

like look at this person

look at their eyebags

they are Tired

they have deal with this bullshittery

they have sass to provide

but they also are Tired and done with this shit

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

I want Duet and Arthur playing a game of caffeine chicken

Marshy — Today at 5:16 AM

Huge massive sigh as they see the whole bullshit situation go down and turns around to go back to the bookshop

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

just lined up at the cafe bar, espresso shots in rows down the counter as they lock eyes-

who shall win- the CAFFEINE-OFF?

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

flash

pls if you right that i will pay you money

or maybe art

Marshy — Today at 5:17 AM

It's me I'll win

flaaaash — Today at 5:17 AM

SLFKJLKGS

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

dlasd;sdgkd;djslj;dags

i'm rooting for you take those nerds OUT

flaaaash — Today at 5:18 AM

"Duet gives him a look of Supreme Weariness and Nopery. Arthur counters with a double eye-roll of Resignation and Angst. In the true synchronicity of the Absolutely Done, they each take an espresso shot and slam it down."

Arthur — Today at 5:20 AM

djdasd;ds;lsda;ldj;lkdsl;jkdsj;lkasljkdjlkdg

they clink the little cups together first before taking their respective shots

flaaaash — Today at 5:21 AM

they do the thing where they turn it upside down to prove it's empty

by the fifth they're trying to outcompete each other with anecdotes

by the tenth they've moved onto toasting each other

Arthur — Today at 5:21 AM

Bonding!

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:22 AM

The anecdotes get concerningly similar to each others

flaaaash — Today at 5:22 AM

by the twelfth, Arthur begins weeping. Duet pats him in solidarity and knocks the next shot clean off the counter due to caffeine-induced twitching

Arthur — Today at 5:22 AM

DSGLAHGLDGHDGHAAHDSGDG

EXCELLENT

want them to be friends now

flaaaash — Today at 5:23 AM

by the thirteenth, the barista stages an intervention and starts giving them decaf

by this point, they don't notice

Arthur — Today at 5:23 AM

asdlaadjsdsajd

thank you they owe you their life

they could taste the difference if they weren't vibrating into the 28the dimension atm

flaaaash — Today at 5:24 AM

after the fifteenth shot, the counter is clear and they're both full of sympathetic outrage for the other's plight. They sprint from the cafe, steamroll right over Shiromori, and punt the colours right out of Murder Mystery in a fit of industrial-strength caffeinated indignance.

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:24 AM

Hahahaha

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

h;lsadlf;dsldj;fsljl;dfsajdfsa

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

The newly Monochromatic Mystery has to then help Vivi contain the pair before they wipe all paranormal activity off the face of Tempo.

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

that's how the fifth video ends

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

Lewis narrowly escapes by hiding in a box. THE END

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

dsal;gsdhldgsa;dgsdgs;hldgs;lhdsa

beautiful thank u flash

i owe you my life

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

you're welcome it's my magnum opus

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

A+ story telling

i'm including it in the post

flaaaash — Today at 5:26 AM

ALKJGAGK

it's okay I don't have a reputation to ruin xD

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

dlasdl;dhsgldgdgs

this is a callout for flash being the funniest person alive--

or undead

flaaaash — Today at 5:27 AM

dead-

sfkjga

Arthur — Today at 5:27 AM

djdjdjdj

i thought about it and corrected myself xDD

flaaaash — Today at 5:30 AM

ok I have no idea if anyone will get this pun, but I dub this the Esprestissimo AU

Arthur — Today at 5:36 AM

djalsd;ldsjdsjldf

i LOVE THAT

music puns but espressos EXTRA ESPRESSOLY

flaaaash — Today at 5:49 AM

#headcanon #msa headcanon discussion #tristan rambles #flashthegeist #IT WAS SO MUCH FUN #duet #arthur #vivi #long post #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls #my original stuff

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