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daneneedssleep · 2 years ago

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So quick note before you read, I had a lovely person message me about my Arthur Morgan idea so here’s part one!

HighHonor!Arthur Morgan x LowHonorM! Reader Pt.1||

This is really long because I wanted it to build up so enjoy.

When Dutch asked Arthur to pick up one of his buddies to join the gang he didn’t think anything of it. New additions sure, but he didn’t want no trouble. Matter of fact, he never did.

You were looking for an easy loot in strawberry when you heard a gruff voice call your name.

“Hey! You uhh- (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Depends. Why you wanna know?”

“Listen I don’t want no trouble, I just came for a (Y/N) (L/N). My friend Dutch wants to speak to him.”

You hummed.

“Well then, I guess you got yer guy. Me and Dutch are acquaintances. What exactly does he need me for?”

“Dutch wants you to join our community, he-“

“THERE HE IS! THAT'S THE GUY THAT LOOTED MY HORSES CARGO”

Goddamnit. Always at the worst time too.

“Oh fuck! Can we talk about this on our way there??” You ask while sprinting to your horse’s side, hopping onto the saddle.

Before he could answer, you let your horse bolt away while yelling back at him- “Lead the way!”

~Time skip~

“I think we lost em.”

“Good I don’t like shootin’ les I have to.”

“Hm. Whatever you say goody two shoes.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean??”

“You don’t like shootin’ folks but yer in a gang…. Yer one of them high honor fuckers aren’t you?” You ready yourself to snatch the pistol out of your holster but Arthur immediately puts his hands up in surrender.

“I already told ya once, I don’t want no trouble. Lemme just take ya to Dutch and you’ll see there ain’t no ill intent.”

“Fine but if you do so much as speak wrong I’ll fuckin’ shoot you with no hesitation”

“I won’t say nuthin’. Let’s go we ain’t far”

~Time Skip~

When Dutch introduced you to everyone, most of them seemed to be ok with you so you decided to stay. When you chose to have dinner, Arthur sat down next to you.

“What do you want?” You asked gruffly.

“I wanted to know if you’d go hunting with me tomorrow. The camp needs some extra food and not everyone is uhh- exactly fond of you yet. It would help them trust you.”

“Wow Dutch actually planned on keepin me? Yeah I guess I’ll go with ya then.”

~Time Skip~

You woke up at about 9:30, it definitely wasn’t the most comfortable sleep but it was better than sleeping away next to waterfalls to hide from bounty hunters. You got up and walked around camp to try and get used to your surroundings. You hear footsteps behind you and you turn to see Arthur with two cups of coffee in his hand.

He asks in a voice more gruffy than usual. “good mornin’ how’d ya sleep?” You took note that he probably just got up.

“Better than a lot of nights actually but I’m still getting used to this.”

“Well we’ll head off at about 10:15 so drink this and then get ready” Arthur said. He handed you your coffee and headed for his tent.

While getting ready to go hunting he couldn’t help but think about you. He felt as if he should impress you and he didn’t know why. Maybe later he’ll take you to the saloon to get a drink.

As Arthur was slipping his boots on he heard heavy footsteps walking up to his tent when he looked up it was you. He looked back down quickly to put his boot on all the way. He could feel his face flush. Looking up at you it was- he was excited. He liked the way you looked at him. The way you looked down at him.

“You ready or what?” You asked, knocking Arthur out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Damn you look lost. ‘I said are you ready’ but you’ve been staring at yer fuckin boots for a good minute and a half.”

“Sorry. Yeah I’m ready. Let’s go.”

You both prepare what you need and hop on your horses. You bring a bow with around 15 arrows, a pistol, and a small hunting rifle. Arthur takes you to an area behind Horseshoe Overlooks campsite and gets off his horse.

“We should continue on foot. The horses make quite a bit of noise.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

Arthur turns around to get his gear off his horse for only about 30 seconds and by the time he turns back around you’re already gone in plain sight. Fuck. “(Y/N) for fucks sake where are you” Arthur tries to loudly whisper.

“I’m right here dumbass”

For someone so tall and broad you were particularly good at hiding.

“Damnit you scared me”

“Pay attention then jackass”

Wow you’re fucking mean.

“I didn’t even take my eye off you for a full minute and you disappeared!”

“Will you just get down! I already spotted two whitetail bucks but we need to hit them in a vital spot at the same time.”

“Fine.”

Arthur crouches in the tall grass next to you. He can hear your breathing but it’s so slow. He looks at your face and all he can see is concentration. Holy shit you’re handsome.

“Alright, you ready?” You face Arthur and you’re a little surprised to see him already staring at you. You watch him look away quickly as he replies with a quiet “yes”.

“Ok you call and I’ll count. As soon as you get a good shot, tell me and I’ll count us down. Got it?”

“Gotcha”

Arthur whistles and the bucks raise their heads.

“Alright I got a good shot you?”

“Yeah. Ready- 3…2… 1!”

~Time skip~

Heading back to camp with a buck stowed on each horse felt like a big achievement to Arthur. You didn’t seem to care as much as he did but you were happy to be able to have some food.

As you both set the bucks down to Pierson you heard Arthur clear his throat. You turned and before you could ask what he wanted he was already asking if you wanted to go to the saloon with him.

You quickly asked “Is it the Valentine saloon?”

“Yeah why”

“I have a bounty of $5 in Valentine” You said, cringing at your own words.

“Oh- well I’ll give you the money and we can go by the post office first”

“Well then let’s get going”

What the hell. Why is he doing this for you?

~another time skip~

And thats part one guys. I’ll either be posting part two soon so please please stay patient for that! Hope you enjoyed, and the real stuff comes tomorrow >:)

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #high honor arthur morgan x low honor male reader #arthur morgan #high honor arthur morgan #low honor male reader #RDR2

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moocowmoocow · 2 years ago

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Chrisjen and Bobby for that prompt post. Either 1. Or 148. 👀👀👀

Come over here and make me

Chrisjen sighed as she changed into what passed for pajamas when her life was circumscribed by the confines of the Zenobia - a pair of sweatpants and tank top. Bobbie had apparently taken her “be somewhere else” hard. Not that she could really blame her, if she was being honest with herself. She felt like she was clinging by her fingernails to stop the universe from spinning out of control and for the first time in her fucking life she started second guessing herself.

She didn’t even know how she wanted Bobbie to answer when she asked if she was getting soft. Part of her wanted Bobbie to answer like the idealized lover, to take her in her arms and reassure her that she was doing the right thing. Another even more unreasonable part of her wanted Bobbie to give her the perfect strategy that would result in minimal death.

But Bobbie had responded like Bobbie, and reflecting upon it hours later, it had probably been what Chrisjen needed. Someone she trusted to shake her out of her self-pity, her paralysis, to get her to make the goddamn move that she needed to keep the entire system out of Marco’s hands.

It’s just that the weight of the billions of dead pressed down on her. And even with the new source of food, millions more would join them. She could hear Arjun chiding her, asking her why she was even out here in the Belt, playing cowboy.

Because if she spent more time orbiting the mass grave that was the planet she loved and spent her entire life defending, she’d most likely go mad. So she was out here, trying to save what she can.

She pulled her fingers through her unfamiliar short hair. Another of her meaningless sacrifices. She made her way toward her bed, hoping the stimulants had dimmed enough to let her sleep for awhile.

After she laid down, Bobbie stumbled into the room. Whatever Belter shit she drank must have been strong to affect her that much. “Don’t worry. I’ll be somewhere else soon.”

“No.” Chrisjen said softly. “You’re in no condition. Come to bed.”

Bobbie crossed her arms. “Come over here and make me.”

Chrisjen rolled her eyes. “Bobbie.”

And now Chrisjen really knew that Bobbie was drunk because she swallowed a sob. “You asked me what I thought, so I told you. And then you got rid of me.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation when you’re drunk.”

“Well, goddamnit, you don’t want me around when I’m fucking sober either.” She rubbed her face with her hands.

And fuck, it hit Chrisjen that Bobbie was just as lost, as devastated, as she was, even if she hid it behind bravado. The entire universe was in an uncontrolled spin. So Chrisjen was going to grab onto the one sure thing she had left. She stood and made her way to Bobbie, grasping her hand and pulling her toward the bed. It spoke to Bobbie’s inebriation that she was able to move her a few steps toward her bunk. “What are you doing?”

“You said ‘make me.’”

Bobbie shook her head. “I thought - “

Chrisjen placed a soft kiss on Bobbie’s bicep. “I’m sorry. Come to bed.”

And she could feel the tension in Bobbie’s body leave and be replaced with exhaustion. She nodded, stopping only to remove her boots and cargo pants before she climbed into the bunk. Chrisjen followed, pressing her back against the warmth of Bobbie’s body, sighing in relief as Bobbie pulled her closer.

“We’ll still have to talk about this in the morning,” Bobbie mumbled against her hair. Chrisjen nodded as she closed her eyes.

#chrisjen avasarala #bobbie draper #the expanse #chrisjen x bobbie

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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

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Title: What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others are finally homeward bound, flying back to the U.S. from the events in Egypt and Greece. You get to hear a little more about Peter’s eastern European roots while passing time on the plane together.

Warnings: None, just fluff and Peter being Peter.

Notes: I know where some things I’m referencing don’t match the comics. Blend of comic canon and the movie version going on here.

Chapters: Previous Chapter Here

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

The morning sun was still low and red on the horizon as you’d stepped back out into the open air of the flight deck. But seagulls were already calling from somewhere up above as men milled around, checking and readying a set of helicopters that you knew would soon be taking you ashore.

You wouldn’t miss this boat itself of course, none of you belonged here after all. But you’d be lying to say it’d been easy to let go of Peter when morning had come. You’d woken up far more tangled than you remembered going to sleep as, chest to chest, his good leg wrapped over you and one of his hands somehow far up the back of your shirt.

The longest part of getting ready had been the procrastination of leaving that bed. After that, it only seemed like minutes before you were all awkwardly standing up here now, waiting on next instructions. It wasn’t as if you’d had anything you could pack after all. Besides that somewhat silly polaroid picture you’d seen Peter carefully stowaway in one pocket of his shorts, you had no possessions to speak of here. Even the shoes they’d given you were some poorly fit military boot. The tops of them scraped against your ankles as you walked and you’d be glad to be rid of them whenever possible.

The Professor and Moira approached after another moment, Moira hurrying a little more as one of the helicopters began to fire up, followed by the other soon after. She had to speak louder over the rising noise of the blades rotating faster and faster.

“Keep these on you!” She called, going to each of you in turn, handing over a U.S. passport with a driver’s license closed separately inside. She only opened them briefly to check that she was matching each to the correct person. “The flight we’ll be taking is just a commercial plane. The government has contracted them and dictated the pickup and landing points, but it’s civilian pilots and flight crew. Normal security still applies, but only those with U.S. citizenship are allowed aboard.”

As she’d gotten to you and Peter, she’d handed both passports to you as you’d had your hand outstretched, and he’d still been holding on to his crutches. You quickly opened one just to see which was yours, so you could pocket only your own. The first one opened was his however, but even in the low light of early sunrise, your brain hitched on something unexpected.

The picture looking back at you was clearly him, albeit a little younger, and with slightly longer hair than the way he wore it currently. But that wasn’t the issue. You reread the name printed in front of you more than once, before glancing up to him as if to confirm.

It said Pietro Django Maximoff.

“Your real name isn’t Peter?” You asked, even over the helicopter noise before you could stop yourself. But the realization was already dawning on you almost before that last word left your mouth that so many people were called one name by friends and family even if their legal name may still be another. You felt a bit stupid then for your reaction, instantly wishing you could take the question back.

But thankfully he only leaned in with a smile, taking his passport and license from you even as he spoke right against your ear. “Define real.” He pocketed them, before continuing. The helicopters were at their full ready now. “But it’s a bit loud here, babe. I’ll tell you all you want to know about my sexy alter ego later, deal?”

—————————

By the time you’d gotten to the airstrip on shore, it was full morning sun now. And just as Moira had said, there was already a large U.S. commercial jet waiting there. You also found out you weren’t alone, as you’d had to join a line of people already waiting to board. They were checking credentials as people moved up one by one onto a mobile stairway that had been rolled up flush with the plane’s open door.

Looking around you, most of the would be passengers still looked like military of various branches though. Army, Navy, Air Force, they still had on their uniforms. But there were others too, likely diplomats being evacuated you thought. Men, women, even a few children as you’d seen the curious eyes peeking out from behind their parents’ legs as you all had also moved through the line.

“It had to be damn stairs,” Peter mumbled as the two of you neared closer to the plane. Without any actual terminal here, boarding straight from the tarmac was the only option.

“If Hank can help carry the Professor up them, wheelchair and all, I’m pretty sure I can handle you.” You responded, only meaning to give him a little grief.

But he just spun things right back on you of course. “Oh, you can handle me any time.”

And when your stare said you didn’t seem to find that quite as funny as he did, he only shrugged, still smiling. “Sorry, you left yourself wide open for that one.”

“I did.” You admitted. “But I still want to hear the story of that driver’s license. And why did you even have one to begin with? Seems a little unecessary.” You said, still moving up every few moments as you neared the bottom of the stairs.

Yet he just kept smirking at you, almost a seeming delight in his eyes then, realizing that you were that curious about it. “Now who’s impatient?” He taunted, just before turning back to flash said documents to one of the workers now checking them.

“Do you have anything to declare?” The woman asked him.

With the way he paused, you knew his brain was churning then to select whatever he would deem the funniest or wittiest response. But as odd of looks as you were all already getting, mostly from Hank and Kurt’s vivid blue skin as usual, it probably would be best not to test the waters any further. You did want to get home after all.

“We don’t,” You answered before he could, relieved when she seemed to want to hurry you all aboard and away from her as much as you did. She handed Peter’s passport back to him, then took your own in quick succession to glance it over as well before seeming satisfied enough as she handed it back to you.

After you were past her, it was the issue of the stairs however. Obviously they expected Peter to just figure it out, but you knew you could lend a hand. The trick was going to be in trying to keep that act of levitation a little more subtle though, still being in mixed company here.

“You should have let me have a little more fun with her,” Peter said, though glancing back with some curiosity as you moved behind him.

“I don’t want to make a scene,” you responded quietly. Really, referring to her just as much as what you were about to attempt. “Pretend you’re going up the stairs anyway. Move a little like you’re walking.”

The person in front of him on the stairs wasn’t looking back, and only more of your friends were directly behind you. With the sidewalls of the stairway also going up about waist high, the people still on the ground couldn’t see the little glow that went around his legs as you willed him to levitate just high enough that his cast didn’t drag the steps as you both continued towards the plane’s door.

“Woah, hey at least give a warning.” He responded, lifting his good leg up enough for it to also miss the now passing steps even as his crutches hit once or twice.”

“I did.” You answered, though still trying to look past him the whole time to make sure no one was looking back from the plane’s doorway. Once you’d gotten nearly to the top, you set him back down to do the last couple steps on his own and enter the plane normally.

Once inside though, the aisle really was too narrow to use his crutches properly. Maybe on a more normal flight more measures would have been taken to assist the disabled, but there sure wasn’t anyone offering anything today.

Kurt was behind you, and offered to take the crutches while Peter put one arm over your shoulders and you both half hobbled, half shimmied awkwardly down the aisle until you reached the first open seating.

Being a larger jet meant for transoceanic travel, there were seats in groups of three on both the left and right side of the plane, but a row of four in the center as well. You ended up in one of the rows of three on the side, letting Peter take the aisle seat to have more room for his leg, while you sat in the middle, and Kurt beside you at the window as he’d laid Peter’s crutches down on the floor underneath the seats.

You finally felt like maybe you could relax a little then, just glancing around a bit. There were some old magazines in the seatback in front of you, but probably not much of anything else any of you could really do now in however many hours it’d take to get stateside. You were pretty sure a passenger jet like this would be a good deal slower than the high tech military one you’d gone to Egypt in.

You were only looking up at the light and air vent controls above your seat next as a sudden movement and curse surprised you as your eyes darted back to the aisle.

“Goddamnit.” A man said.

His soft sided suitcase had just burst open, spilling most of his clothing onto the floor as he then paused to shove it back in as best he could. He struggled with the zipper a moment, but it only slid back and forth uselessly, no longer sealing the bag back. “Cheap ass government issue,” He added, finally just picking up the whole thing and holding it closed against his chest as he walked on.

And that random event would have been nothing more to you, except for the way you saw Peter move his head back then, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth as he gripped the armrest between you.

Kurt noticed too, leaning forward as he asked, “Are you alright, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure,” He grunted.

But as you glanced down to see Peter’s other hand now clutching his broken leg, you also saw a newly materialized pair of sunglasses pressed between his fingertips and the cast. As well as a military jacket now folded messily under his seat.

“That was you.” You spoke abruptly, yet low enough just for the three of you. “You took those out of that man’s suitcase!”

“Well I didn’t think the stupid zipper was going to break when I tried to close it back! He’s right, that was a cheap zipper.” Peter admitted.

“And you hurt yourself trying to get back into the chair didn’t you?” You chided a little more, not quite sure what was worse, the thievery or the recklessness.

“I hit my foot on that damn bracket, and the vibration went through the bone.” He motioned to the metal bracing that bolted the seat in front of him to the floor.

“Thou shalt not steal,” Kurt said, not judgmentally, but just as if this should be an inherent truth as he still looked to Peter with concern.

“Oh man, so I get like twelve hours of flight time to look forward to, trapped next to you two goody two shoes then? Awesome.” He joked back, though already looking back down then at the sunglasses in his hand with a little admiration. They had a mirror finish as he spun them over in his fingers. “And hey, you guys are the ones who burned up my last jacket back in Egypt, remember? I’m not going home empty handed. I’d been wanting one of those army looking deals since we got here. Buzzcut there seemed like he’d have one.”

“Mama look!”

All three of you paused your talk then to see a small boy now standing in the aisle as the movement of people had slowed once more with passengers stopping to put their luggage in the overhead bins. But his mother didn’t seem to be paying him any mind as he continued to point. She was talking to the man in front of her as that man fought with an oversized suitcase.

The boy continued staring though, likely at Kurt. But it wasn’t really a fearful gaze, more excited than anything.

“Guten tag,” Kurt said cheerfully regardless, just waving in return.

And at that the boy’s eyes really went wide. “Sprichst du Deutsch?” The boy stammered a little, yet with the biggest grin.

“Ja, ich komme aus Bayern.” Kurt replied.

And that spontaneous connection over a surprise shared language would have been truly adorable too if Peter wasn’t suddenly leaning right over you to interrupt it.

“Yo, Kurt, ask him if I can borrow some of his markers!” Peter pleaded abruptly.

“What?” You and Kurt both said almost simultaneously.

“The markers, he doesn’t need the whole box. I only need like three colors, tops.” Peter answered, motioning back to the boy. And when still neither you or Kurt seemed to understand this sudden sense of urgency, Peter actually put his hands together like making a little prayer. “You told me you didn’t want me to steal, so I’m trying not to. Come on, at least a red one?”

Kurt really was confused then, but he did lean forward, saying something else in German to the boy.

At that request the boy did look down at the coloring book rolled in one of his hands, and the small pack of markers sticking out of his pocket that evidently Peter had somehow put a target lock on.

But he really did like Kurt apparently as after only a couple moments of thought, the little boy opened the marker box to pull three out.

“Sweet!” Peter said as the child handed over red, black, and blue to him. “I’ll give them back in a bit, right?” Peter added though, smirking at him. “Thanks, little dude.”

And it was all just the oddest thing to you as the boy only happily waved bye to Kurt after, the movement of people starting again as he and his mother continued on to go sit a few rows further back.

“I don’t even know what just happened,” you said after they were gone.

“That was world class negotiating, babe. I mean Kurt literally just smooth talked some colors from a kid with a coloring book in his hand on a twelve hour flight.” Peter responded.

“You are actually going to give them back though aren’t you? You told him you would.” Kurt replied with a little concern.

Peter kind of shrugged, “I mean yeah, I guess so.”

“He’ll give them back,” You added for him. “Or I will.”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Yes, it’s not going to take me hours to do anything. Ever. I’ll have this baby gussied up in no time.” Peter responded, patting his cast gently. “You can’t leave a blank canvas to a guy like me. Especially if I have to stare at this thing for weeks.”

And he was right, you weren’t even in the air yet before he just started doodling away.

————————————

Thankfully the plane only stopped one more time, at an air base in France to pickup more U.S. government evacuees, before at last the wings were over water and you were finally pointed home.

By now Peter’s cast looked more like those advertisements or example sheets on the walls of any tattoo parlor. Yet when you made a comment as such, the sly grin you got in return made you instantly wish you’d thought that through a little better.

“Ah, so you’ve been in a tattoo parlor then?” Oh he was so interested in this topic now. You could see that wolfish look coming into his eyes. “You’ve got some ink somewhere?”

“I don’t.” You’d thought of doing it though, quite a bit actually. But it was such a commitment. You’d probably keep that tidbit to yourself for a while though, lest he try to drag you immediately to a tattoo shop on the drive to D.C.

“I’m not totally sure I believe you.” He answered, though leaning in to whisper in your ear after, “Think you’ll let me check some time?”

The fact that he was still so bold with Kurt literally right beside you, made you wonder if you really should be making sure whatever rental car you ended up with later was just some sort of bucket seat tiny two door thing. If it was a boat like sedan with a full bench back seat, you might actually be in trouble tonight.

“We’ll see,” Is all you answered back though. At least for a moment before you realized now was as good a time as any to flip the conversation back on him.

“So when do I get to hear the Pietro story?” You asked, relaxed into your seat as much as the small space would allow. “Kurt and I have nothing else to do. Let’s hear it.”

“The who?” Peter teased back, just working on giving one of the pin up girls he’d drawn a little better shading.

“Or Django. Either Pietro or Django, they both sound pretty interesting I think.” You replied playfully.

Peter glanced at you, but smiled a little. “You’re just going to be disappointed actually. I was just hyping it up, there’s really nothing to it.”

“Then go on, it’ll be a quick story then.” You still wanted to know more about him of course, and every piece was just another part of the whole picture.

“Django was my grandfather. Mom’s dad back in the old country.” Peter replied, still just finding more and more little details to add to his drawings. “I didn’t really know him. Mom never liked to take us back there much to visit. I mean it makes more sense now of course. She didn’t want my Dad to know where she was. But back then I just figured she thought that place was creepy.”

“What place?” Kurt asked innocently enough. You both were actually equally curious to whatever Peter might say about his family. Like he’d said before, Kurt wasn’t used to having friends his own age. And learning more about each other now was all part of growing those bonds.

“Wundagore Mountain,” Peter replied. “And trust me, as much as it sounds like the newest ride at some amusement park, it’s totally not. I remember being like five and going back there thinking Dracula himself was going to yank me out of that freaking soviet tin can Mom was driving us around in. Wanda still swears she heard voices up there. I mean I don’t know, we stayed with Mom’s aunt one time and she tells us this thing so creatively called Man-Beast was going to come down off the mountain for us if we didn’t behave.”

Peter glanced over to the both of you, further clarifying, “Not like Hank or anything though, it was basically just a werewolf I think. But if it’s a werewolf, call it that you know? What the hell is a Man-Beast? They had so many weird things that could take children. I feel like every story was, oh but don’t do that or Porga will get you. Oops, you talked back to your mother? Guess Tagar is coming tonight. Darn, forgot to brush your teeth? Nice knowing you, kid, Bova’s going to take you to live in the woods forever now.”

You were sort of just staring and listening, but out the corner of your eye you saw Kurt only nodding as if in complete understanding. You would hazard a guess that parts of Bavaria evidently had very similar folklore. Between the two of them, they could likely trade stories like this the whole flight.

But Peter just continued, “But yeah, Django was my gramps, just met him a couple times. And Pietro...well that’s just me. Like I said, nothing special. I was Pietro all the way until Mom started us in kindergarten.” He smirked a little. “Guess she figured the dorky little Jewish kid with the curly brown hair needed all the help he could get fitting in with all the John’s, Mark’s, and Scott’s of the world. And yeah, feel free to tell Summers I said that later.”

So she’d Americanized his name. It wasn’t unheard of with first or second generation immigrants, but still there was something a little sad about that. Yet you smiled softly, that image of the kindergarten age Peter frankly adorable in your mind. “You were a baby brunette?”

“Until the old X-gene flared at 12 or whenever that was yeah,” But he paused, a little surprised, just then realizing what look that was on your face. “Oh stop, you’re picturing it now aren’t you? I was a total dork, don’t do that. Seriously, no! I swear I will never let you find those pictures.”

But you just kept grinning. “No need. I can imagine this forever.”

“Hell, where is Jean?” Peter looked around in a little show of dramatics. “Memory wipe needed on aisle 3, Red.”

It was just too funny though, and honestly it made all the sense in the world. The physical resemblance between Peter and Erik would have been a lot more noticeable had they both still shared similar hair color and texture. Yes, you would bet Peter’s hair had even had that bit of auburn in it too back then.

“But I do have a question,” You spoke then, your tone sincere. “What do you actually want to be called?”

“Sexy?” He answered at once.

But you didn’t let him off the hook that easily, still waiting patiently for the real answer as you just watched him.

Finally he relented, but still seeming a bit non committal. “I mean I’ve heard both for so long, I answer to either. Really, I do. But if the Django comes out though, that’s Defcon 1. It means I’ve done something catastrophically wrong and Mom is about to go full on nuclear on my ass.”

You considered this for a moment, before trying it. “Pietro,” you said, looking for any difference in his expression.

He did grin at you, eyebrows going up a little.

“Peter?” You asked then.

And to that he just continued to smile. “Babe, it’s like you’re trying to pick the name of the new dog.” He raised the pitch of his voice a little, imitating a generic wife you guessed. “Honey, which one does he like better? Did his ears go up at that one?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to figure things out,” you defended. “Guess I’ll just go back to imagining all that curly brown hair now.”

“Noooo.” He whined.

———————————

The three of you had joked and talked for quite a while. But somewhere, maybe about two thirds through the flight, things did quiet back down. Eventually you decided to try and sleep some if you could. You weren’t tired yet, but you knew you would be by the time you landed.

With the difference in timezones, even though you’d left early in the morning Greek time, it would likely only be around lunch time in the U.S. after landing. While you already would have been traveling for almost twelve hours.

It was as if you’d get to repeat the day all over again. You had all that time still ahead of you, including having to convince the Professor to let you drive Peter home.

You closed your eyes for a bit, thinking of all the hypotheticals of what you could say. What you would argue if needed, and what Xavier may say in response. But as you tried to let your thoughts drift further, you realized you’d crossed your arms, little chill bumps on them as you opened your eyes to look up at the air vent above you.

Was it stuck open? You fiddled with it a moment, but felt no difference. Shifting to sit back up a little, you looked at the seatback in front of you again as well, in the pouch there with the old magazines.

“They don’t have any blankets,” Peter said quietly, easily interpreting the reasoning for your search.

You’d thought he’d already been asleep just as Kurt was though. You were surprised as Peter reached out, smoothly laying that jacket over your chest and arms. The one he’d taken earlier.

“See.” He added. “Crime does pay sometimes.”

You gave him a skeptical look still, but the jacket really did make the difference as you leaned back again in the seat, snuggling into it. “Thank you, thief.” You answered softly.

“Any time.” He smiled a little, before reaching down to click the button on the armrest between your seats. He moved the armrest up and out of the way, then running a warm hand under the jacket to find one of your own.

You grasped his hand when they met, intertwining your fingers together.

“Have a nice nap, see you in Jersey.” He said, yet closing his own eyes as well.

“See you in Jersey, Pietro.”

You felt him squeeze your hand more at that, and you couldn’t help but smile.

————————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver xmen #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #x men fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #xmen fic

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awindylife-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting Martha

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, Martha x reader (platonic), Martha x Doctor (platonic), Rose x reader (mentioned, platonic)

Summary: s3e1 Smith and Jones rewrite. The Doctor and you meet Martha and defeat the Plazmavore Florence.

Warnings: short description of a panic attack, mentions of the loss of Rose, the Doctor almost dies again

Genre: angst and fluff

You had just gone to get a cocoa. Just a cocoa, from the coffee machine, in a hospital, ON EARTH, and then suddenly there was an earthquake and you were ON THE MOON. You had stopped to help the terrified people around you and then when you got back the Doctor's room, HE WAS GONE. And you couldn't even go looking for him because there were SPACE RHYNOS marching around. You evaded them, because you figured they were searching for aliens and for all you knew you were alien enough to be in danger. And that meant the Doctor was DEFINITELY in danger and that made breath catch in your throat.

Okay okay okay. Don't panic, just don't panic. He's okay, he's clever, he'll stay alive long enough for you to find him.

You breathed deeply and started your search.

Dangerdangerdanger and he couldn't go looking for Y/N, there wasn't enough time. He knew she was clever and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but the thought of her alone, out of his sight slipping through his fingers youcan'tprotecther everythingyoutouchcrumblestodustNONONONO-

Martha was calling his name in worry.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," the Doctor assured her as soon as he could breathe.

She gave him a flat look. "I'm almost a doctor, Doctor, and that was a panic attack." She squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?" she all but demanded.

He found himself speaking, "I have a friend, Y/N, she was here with me, and she's not here. She can take care of herself," he assured Martha, "but..." Griefgriefgrief a hole in his chest that could swallow the universe, terror coursing through him like a river and he'll drown-

He was prepared this time and managed to pull himself out, focused on Martha's warm hand in his. "We don't have time for this," he told mostly himself but her too and turned back to the computer. Distraction, he needed a distraction.

Seemingly coming to a decision, Martha asked helpfully, "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know, say, any patient admitted in the past week with unusual simptoms? Maybe there's a backup!" He grabbed the computer and started examining it.

"Just- Keep working," Martha told him. "I'll go ask Mister Stoker, he might know." She left, throwing a worried look over her shoulder.

"That's the thing about Slabs, they always travel in pairs.

"Where the hell have you been?" You finally found the Doctor crouching behind a water dispenser. He was with a doctor, and wasn't that funny. "And why are you barefoot?" you went on in disbelief before he could answer, then decided you really didn't care. At least he was alive, which meant they hadn't found him yet. Relief was so, so good.

You waved in a 'nevermind' gesture and turned to the woman crouching beside him. "Hello, I'm Y/N Y/S," you offered her your hand with a smile. She took it and you helped her stand up. "I travel with him. I hope he hasn't been rude yet."

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, offended. You grinned fondly at him and then focused back on the doctor.

"I'm Martha, Martha Jones. And no, he hasn't been rude yet," she replied, returning the smile and firmly shaking your hand.

"Nice to meet you," you said, pleased, and then there was a platoon of pink rhinos four steps away from you.

"Run!" you yelled, and off you went. (The feeling of the Doctor's warm hand in yours did wonders for your nerves, even though you were being shot at.)

"Y/N, I need time," the Doctor told you.

"Okay, what do we do?" you asked, looking between him and the aproaching army.

"Hold them up." The Doctor was holding your face in his hands and kissed your cheek. "Stay here, get processed!" he ordered and then he was off.

You and Martha glanced at each other. "Well, this should be fun," you remarked. "Don't worry, you're completely safe. You should go before me so they don't mistake you for my associate."

Martha shook her head. "Wait, aren't you an alien too? What if they execute you?" she asked, her black eyes wide with worry.

"Nah, I'm as human as you are," you assured her with a grin and then there were rhynos marching down the corridor towards you. You never did ask the Doctor their name, there hadn't been time.

They flashed that light in Martha's face ("Human.") and then it was your turn.

"Human. Wait. Non-human trace suspected. Non-human element confirmed. Authorize full scan." They pushed you against the wall.

"What are you. What are you."

When the army moved on, you and Martha followed them.

Then there was a room, and a door, and then there was the Doctor. He was on the floor, unmoving. He was as white as a sheet. He wasn't breathing.

"Conformation - deceased."

Everything stopped.

There was someone rushing past you but you didn't care. Then there was something cold against your back and you slid down to the floor. There were shouts and screams but they were so far away.

The chasm in your chest opened and swallowed you whole. There was nothing. There was nothing anymore.

Sometime after darkness took you.

Your eyes flew open and you gasped for breath. You sat up, looki-

Doctor. The Doctor was holding your hand, warm and grinning and alive. Something in you burst and you fell around his neck. He held you tightly as you clung to him, desparatly repeating, "You're-alive-you're- alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-"

"I'm here. I'm here, I'm so sorry, I'm here..." his soft voice joined yours.

You realized you were sobbing and hot tears were streaming down your face. "I thought-" Your voice broke and you couldn't go on. You buried your nose in his shoulder instead, eyes closed, and breathed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I didn't know any other way." His warm breath brushed your neck. The Doctor's voice was tight with sorrow, but there was fear too. Fear that he'd gone too far.

You stopped him, "I know. I know. And I don't blame you, but if you ever-"

"I won't," the Doctor cut you off and held you even tighter. "I swear I'll try to stay alive. I'll be careful, at least for the time being," he vowed, his voice serious.

You nodded into his shoulder. "Good. 'Cause I know what we do is dangerous, and that this'll probably happen again, but please, not now. Not yet." (Not after Rose went unspoken, but you both heard it.

"I promise," he vowed and something in you relaxed. This didn't mean the pain is gone, but the terror had been subjued. You would carry their marks for a long time.

The Doctor gently let go of you enough to see your face. "Promise me too," he pleaded softly.

You were a bit lost so he went on, "D'you think I could bear it any better if it had been you?" His voice was increduolus but full of sorrow, like he couldn't believe you didn't know already.

You squeezed his hand with a nod. "I promise."

He exhaled in relief and found your gaze with his own, then he smiled and his beautiful brown eyes were a little brighter. You returned the smile.

He pulled you to him again now, and you settled in his arms. You held each other for a long time.

When you finally let go, Martha came closer. She'd been opening the windows, and then you thought she'd just stayed away to give you some space.

"Who did you lose?" she asked gently. She wasn't stupid. She was a doctor and she knew grief.

The Doctor and you turned to look at her, and then glanced at each other. "Rose," he answered. You could hear the pain in his voice. "Her name was Rose."

"She was our best friend," you continued. "We loved her, we were a family, and she's gone." You were NOT going to cry.

"She isn't dead," the Doctor gently reminded you, holding your eyes with his intense gaze. "She isn't."

"I know. I know. But we'll never see her again," you said to him and goddamnit you were on the verge of tears. "Not ever."

"She's in a parallel universe," the Doctor told Martha while looking at the floor, "locked away. The walls are sealed, we can't get to her and she can't get to us. The end."

Silence followed.

You took a steadying breath. "But she is alive," you nodded to yourself. "We can hold onto that. She has a future, and we have a future, just not together," you smiled sadly at the Doctor with tears in your eyes. "We'll be alright," you nodded.

He returned the smile with the same sorrow on his face. "Yeah."

You could hear talking somewhere below you, and then sirens and the crowd outside.

"We should go," you told the Doctor, looking up at his face. He sighed and nodded, then pulled himself up and offered you a hand.

After you stood up, you turned to Martha. Brave, strong, clever Martha. You stepped towards her with open arms. She smiled, her black eyes warm, and pulled you close.

"Thank you," you told her, your voice tight. "Thank you so, so much. I can't thank you enough, not just for saving everyone, but for saving him. Thank you."

She chuckled and pulled away to look at you. "You're welcome, and no problem. All there in the job title," she joked.

"Well, thank you, doctor Martha Jones," you grinned.

"But I'm not a doctor yet."

"You will be," you said and it was time.

"Right then, you two. I have patients to tend to, and I'm sure you have some place to be, so off we go." Martha waved you toward the door.

You and the Doctor left the wrecked room and started down the left, while she went down the right corridor.

Next challenge: how to get out of the hospital unnoticed. After a day like this, you thought it would be easy.

"What if we took Martha with us?" the Doctor suggested when you were both safe in the TARDIS.

"I think that's a fantastic idea," you replied with a smile. "But we have to make sure she doesn't feel like she's... like she's second best," you said seriously. "Like she's a rebound."

The last thing you wanted was to hurt the brilliant woman you had met. You knew the Doctor, and you knew yourself. You were both emotional messes right now but that didn't mean you got to demean Martha. You wouldn't stand for that.

"We won't," the Doctor assured you. "We're making a friend, that's it."

"That's no small thing," you told him. "And we're not taking her for just one trip, because if that's what you mean, then it's better to leave her alone," you made sure to look him in the eye. "That would just be cruel," you said sadly.

"I know," he nodded, looking down at the console. "And we're not just taking her for a spin."

"So, if she agrees, she still might not," you pointed out, "she's in for the long haul. Or until she decides she's had enough." But deep down you didn't think she would. She would always have the option to, of course, but there was something telling you that she wouldn't.

"I think she'll stay," the Doctor voiced your thoughts with a soft smile on his lips.

"You know what?" you grinned. "I think so too."

"Let's go get our Martha," he said in that playful tone of his and released the hand brake. At once the TARDIS shook wildly and you both laughed.

Off you went.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #tenth doctor #the doctor #reader insert #doctor who fanfiction #martha x reader #martha jones x reader #martha jones #martha #rose x reader #rose tyler x reader #rose #rose tyler

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p-artsypants · 3 years ago

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?”

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?”

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.”

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded.

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.”

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette.

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.”

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.”

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?”

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.”

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.”

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.”

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?”

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said.

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later.

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.”

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?”

“K.”

“Did I do something?”

“K”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.”

“K”

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated.

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him.

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected.

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly.

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands.

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office.

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk!

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!”

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.”

“I hope you do.”

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances.

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket.

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival.

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open.

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through.

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing.

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally.

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen.

He didn’t have his dimples.

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.”

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.”

“I have been, I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.”

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing.

“Are you going to sit?”

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap.

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.”

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?”

She shrugged.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Doing?”

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?”

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.”

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.”

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.”

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?”

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?”

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.”

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt.

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there.

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly.

“What?”

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.”

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.”

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time.

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around.

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out.

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall.

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.”

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her.

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking?

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong.

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.”

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.”

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!”

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead.

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake.

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #the ghost of Smokey Joe

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authoressofdarkness · 4 years ago

Text

Fill: Accidental Stimulation

I had way too much fun with this one. Lowkey inspired by the scene in The Demon King where the two characters finally meet. Threats and a little blood but nothing gory or explicit here. Might continue this? Let me know what you think/if you want to see more!

Tag list: @snowstark @buckettbarnes

He should not be turned on by this.

Fantasies are all well and good, but God, this is a whole other level, and he’d never expected to actually be turned on in this situation.

But the boy is cute. He can’t help himself — that’s his first thought. He’s maybe a year or two older than him, but not by much. It’s hard to believe he’s a criminal.

Well, he has a knife to his throat, so maybe not that hard to believe.

This was not how this morning was supposed to go.

It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous or related to Ben’s work in any way. They were literally just supposed to be going to breakfast. Ben had asked to make a quick stop to drop something off and check in with a local minister for something or the other related to a case — he hadn’t been listening, really, it was all normal and he just didn’t care that much.

Maybe he should have. Because had he been paying a little more attention, he might have a clue who the attractive older boy with a knife to his throat actually was. Or at least what he’d done that Ben had been hunting him.

But he hadn’t. So now all he knows is that the boy burst into the minister’s office while they were in there and he and Ben had recognized each other and Ben didn’t have his gun because he was off duty trying to go to breakfast with his nephew goddamnit and the boy had grabbed him and now—

Cold, sharp metal presses against his Addam’s apple. He swallows hard, feels the bite of it, the way the movement of his throat causes just a hair too much pressure and a tiny trickle of blood runs down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He lets out a slow breath.

The boy’s hand trembles against his throat. He can feel the knife moving just slightly, so slight there’s no way the other two could see it.

Ben’s putting his hands up, now, slowly, so he doesn’t spook him. “Look, kid, I’ve got nothing. No weapons, nothing — I wasn’t looking for you, alright? Just let him go and—“

“And what? Run, so you can chase me down? I don’t think so. It’s not your fault, Parker, but you’re wrong, and I’m not going to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”

Peter should be focusing on the conversation. He knows he should. It would be wise to know what the boy had been accused of, what he’s so afraid of going to jail for, what kind of monster it is exactly that holds him—

But instead all he can focus on is the feel of the knife at his throat, cold against his heated skin; the press of the boy’s chest against his back, warm and firm; the steady thump of his heart thundering even through the layers of their clothes; the calluses on his hands and the roughness of his open palm as it grips Peter’s shoulder; his arm tight and strong across his chest, holding him firmly in place.

And he just can’t help it. His mind wanders, and he wonders, what, exactly, the boy’s hands would feel like— what the knife would feel like caressing other parts of his skin, cool and with just a hint of danger—

What filthy thoughts to have in a church. What filthy thoughts to have in this situation in general. Is he crazy? Maybe. But it’s a lot of fantasies rolled into one for him, sick as it may be, and he just can’t… not be attracted to him, can’t stop himself from being turned on.

And fuck it all, but he is turned on. He’s got an undeniable hard on right now and by God does he hope everyone is too distracted to notice.

And then—

“Keys, both of you,” the boy says, and the words jolt Peter back to reality.

“Anthony, you don’t want to—“

The knife presses harder against his throat. He feels a new trickle of blood and realizes suddenly that the last had dried. They’d been here a few minutes, now. “I said keys.” His voice is sharp now, gaining a new edge that it didn’t have before. Peter feels a chill run through him, going a bit weak at the knees. It probably looks like a fear response to the other two, but really, it isn’t. He knows he should be afraid and that if that means what he thinks it means this situation is about to get very, very real. But all he can think is — oh my God why is that so hot?

“Hand them to boy-toy, here, and we’ll be on our way.” Then, as a barely-there hot exhale of breath next to his ear, “Just put your hands out and take them. Trust me.”

Trust me. Why on earth would he trust him? Even as weirdly fucking turned on as he is, he knows that’s a bad idea. But what choice does he have?

Ben lowers his hands slowly to take his key ring out of his pocket, then takes the office key from the minister, but hesitates. “Anthony, if you do this — if you’re really innocent, you won’t be, anymore. Just drop him and run. We’ll pretend this never happened. This doesn’t have to escalate any further.”

“I wish you were right,” Anthony says quietly. “But I can’t afford to believe you. Now give him the keys.”

Ben lets out a heavy sigh and drops the keys in Peter’s open hand. He grips Peter’s wrist for just a second, giving it a gentle squeeze, as if thinking of pulling—

Anthony jerks him back, starting to drag him towards the door. His hand slips free from Ben’s grasp, and the next thing he knows, the door is shutting between them. “Lock it,” the older boy orders. “Now. Quick. We gotta go.”

Peter fumbles to get the key and get it in the lock. It takes a second — his hands are shaking now, too, though from delayed fear response or adrenaline or something else, he isn’t sure.

He’s barely heard the click when Anthony grabs his wrist, hauling him outside. He doesn’t resist, mind spinning too much to even think about it. He should resist. He should try to run. This kid clearly just wants away from here, and he probably wouldn’t chase him.

But the grip the other boy has on his wrist is firm, and when he tugs against him, feeble as it is, he gets a warning look in response that stops him in his tracks. Scary and hot. Fuck.

Anthony must see the expression that flashes across his face, and he sighs. “Look, I don’t want to have to hurt you so just— cooperate, would you?” He tugs him forward, looking around. “Which car is yours?”

Don’t want to have to. It’s not an I won’t, but it’s not as scary as he’d expected, with the way Ben reacted. He’s clearly not afraid to do something illegal, per se, but he’s not inclined to violence, either.

Well, that’s good to know, since he’s apparently getting in the car with him.

“That one.”

“Good. C’mon.” He drags him over to it.

Ben’s car is old, small and blue but perfect for their little family and the few outings they make. He’s not in the shop car today — again, because he was off-duty and thus the car was parked in the garage where it belongs. But, if he knows Ben…

Anthony seems to be having the same thought. He pushes Peter into the passenger seat and leans over him, opening up the center compartment. He pulls out Ben’s second handgun — his personal one, which of course he has a conceal and carry permit for — and a pair of spare handcuffs.

“Cops are always prepared, aren’t they?” he muses. He still has a firm grip on Peter’s wrist, and he jerks it up, locking it in one side of the handcuffs and bringing the other side through the grip on the doorframe before locking his other wrist into it. “Well, I guess not always.”

“Is this really necessary?” Peter asks, frowning as Anthony closes the door and goes around the other side, getting in and adjusting his uncle’s seat.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t have you doing anything stupid while I’m driving.”

“I’m as much a kid as you are.” He scowls, leaning back in the seat and trying to get as comfortable as he can with his hands cuffed to a car door and a persistently aching erection that just won’t go away. “Why did you even drag me along? You could have left me outside and taken the car.”

“So you could run back in and call the cops? Tell them exactly what car I’m driving and which way I went? I don’t think so. I need some serious distance between them and me. I don’t know how long it’ll take for someone to find them, but leaving you there would have significantly sped up the process. We need to be in a new car and preferably a new state by then.”

Peter sighs. The logic is solid, he supposes. Even if he doesn’t know how he feels about where that leaves him. “Okay. So what are you going to do with me, then?”

Anthony pauses. He checks his rear view mirror and changes lanes before answering. “I don’t— I don’t know, okay? Probably leave you with the car when I find a new one. Can you just— stop asking questions for a few minutes and try to relax? Sleep or something. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m obviously otherwise occupied right now.”

Sleep or something. Yeah right. So he can have wet dreams about the pretty boy that kidnapped him? No thanks.

But there’s not much else to do right now. Anthony eventually turns on the radio. He finds some hard rock station and turns it up to dispel the silence. But it doesn’t change the situation.

Anthony drives. Peter rides in the passenger seat. They’re both quiet, allowing the sounds of AC/DC and Metallica and whatever else comes on the radio to fill the silence.

It’s going to be a long fucking day.

#ironspider #starker #peter parker x tony stark #starker fanfic #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fanfiction #starker fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #starkerfestivalsevents #sfsummerbingo21 #SFSummerBingo21

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queen-swagzilla · 4 years ago

Text

So Much Worse Than A Phantom Limb, Ch. 2 (BkDk)

"Kacchan?"

Katsuki turned to the voice right behind him, but there was no one there. "Deku?"

"Kacchan, where are you?"

He spun in a circle. "Where the hell are you, nerd?"

"Kacchan!" He sounds so scared. Where the hell is he?

He ran toward the voice, running through the park and into the woods until he came to a log bridge—old and weathered. From the way it creaked, he thought it must have rotted through. Deku stood in the center, but he was so small. "Deku, get away from there."

"Kacchan, I'm scared." He whispered. Katsuki gritted his teeth and slowly—so slowly—crept onto the bridge. As soon as his foot made contact, the world went fuzzy.

Now they were on a roof. Katsuki glanced around—Aldera? Why were they on the roof of Aldera? He looked back at Deku and froze. He was perched on the ledge, facing away from him. "DEKU. Get the fuck away from there." He snapped, panicking.

"Kacchan?" Deku asked, looking over his shoulder. "Why are you crying?" He turned around but didn't step down.

"Deku, please." He reached out. "Get down from there."

"But I'm tired, Kacchan. Isn't this what you wanted?" He asked, before leaning back.

"Deku!" He screamed, blasting forward and reaching out—clutching the nerd's shitty middle school uniform in tight fists. The world blurred again as they fell together.

They were on a battlefield, and Katsuki clutched Deku tightly. His body was riddled with holes and he spluttered as he choked on his blood. "Kacchan?"

"Don't talk, goddamnit." He snarled, pressing hands futilely against his gaping wounds.

"Gotta. No time. Tell mom I'm sorry."

"Tell her yourself, shithead."

"I need you to do something."

"Stop. Talking."

"Take One For All. I need you to take it."

"Fuck you."

"Kacchan, please." He gasped. "No time."

And the asshole was right. He could feel Deku's pulse slowing. His eyes were dimming. "How?"

Deku lifted a ravaged arm to slide his bloodied hand into Katsuki's hair, and pulled him down for a kiss filled with blood and gravel. "Glad I got to do that. Love you, y'know." He went limp in Katsuki's arms.

Katsuki woke up screaming.

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The next five days were hard. He hadn't counted on how difficult it would be to see his classmates crying over Deku's broken body. The first group to visit, much to his surprise and relief, was not Deku's inner circle. He didn't think he was ready for that. Instead, he brought Aoyama, Tsu, Sato, Shoji, and Sero to see him first. He supposed that was just because they'd been in the common room when the signup sheet had been posted. So had Hagakure, Yaomomo, and Shinso who had put down Mirio's name. Their group went on the second day.

"No matter what happens, I'm proud to have you as a friend, mon ami." Aoyama had sobbed.

"You're so strong, ribbit. It seems ridiculous to say goodbye when it feels like you're around every corner." Tsuyu croaked. "So do us all a favor and hang on."

"You should come back now." Sato cried quietly. "But if you have to go, don't worry. Bakugou's been taking good care of your mom, and we'll take good care of him." His breath hitched. "But you should come back. If you do, I'll make you that matcha and lavender roll cake I was telling you about."

Shoji was quiet and morose. "I'm sorry this happened to you." There wasn't much more for him to say.

"Katsuki hasn't said goodbye yet, so neither will I." Sero admitted softly, brushing Izuku's hair back. "He's scared, but I can tell he hasn't really given up. So as long as he's got hope, I will too. You want to be the symbol of hope, right?" Katsuki didn't look at him the whole walk back to the dorm.

When they arrived, Sato planted himself back in the kitchen, and a small group congregated in the common room to wait for Katsuki so that they could go to the Midoriya's to help tidy. "Bring your homework, Kat." Mina instructed. "We'll clean while you work. You've been losing valuable study time at the hospital."

"I'm supposed to be helping you guys clean up." He argued.

"No." She put her foot down. "We'll tidy. You study. If we have questions about where something is supposed to go, we'll ask." Katsuki looked like he was going to argue, but Mina actually stomped her foot. "I'm not taking no for an answer. Let us help you." He sighed but conceded. When they arrived, he excused himself to Izuku's nerdy All Might shrine of a bedroom, sat at his crowded desk, and tried not to cry as he did the homework for Ectoplasm's class. He didn't succeed, and Mina found him curled in Izuku's bed, sobbing into his pillow.

The next day wasn't any easier, but at least they wouldn't be going to Auntie Inko's that evening. Nonetheless, he listened diligently to his classmates as they spoke to Izuku's prone body.

"We're still looking, Midoriya." He heard Shinso whisper. "If there's something to find, I swear we'll find it. We're not gonna let you go without a fight. Not when you've fought so hard for us."

"We decided not to bring Eri, or that kid you saved at your training camp. We thought this might be too hard for them. Eri especially, since she'd feel bad for not being able to use her quirk to help. She's just not in control enough." Mirio smiled. "You and I both know you wouldn't want her to be upset about something she can't control. But this still sucks. I hope you wake up, buddy. We miss you already."

"You're our lynchpin, Izuku." Hagakure whispered to him. "We'll fall apart without you. We already are." He didn't have to see her to know that she was a wreck. "Please come back. Please."

To his surprise, Momo was angry. It was a quiet sort of anger, but it was anger nonetheless. "I thought you were gonna be number one, Izuku." She hissed, pressing her palms into her eyes. "How are any of us supposed to survive if you can't? You really want Katsuki to be the one we look to for inspiration? We'll all be screaming expletives at victims within a month."

"Hey!" he interrupted, affronted. She gave him a very dry and irritated glance.

"I'm not wrong. He needs to come back. He's the balancing act. The calm to your storm. Iida and I might be the class reps, but when shit hits the fan, it's you two that we look to. We need both of you or else we're all gonna go off the rails." She turned her gaze back to Izuku. "I know I'm supposed to be proper and polite, but this is ridiculous. Get the fuck up. Please get the fuck up."

It was quiet with the first two groups. They huddled around his bed and cried. They offered Auntie Inko their support and hugged Katsuki's parents. They brought flowers and carried the meals that Sato had prepared. Tsu and Momo attended to Katsuki, holding his hand under the guise of needing his support, while knowing that it was the other way around. Katsuki remained strong-jawed and dry-eyed throughout. Only Tsu and Momo knew how his hands shook as he stood at Deku's bedside.

With the first two groups, he had time to check on Auntie Inko as they spoke to her son. "How are you holding up, Auntie?"

She gave him a tearful smile. "Not great. But you're taking such good care of me, so better than I could have hoped." She admitted. "Thank you for dinner, Katsuki."

He shook his head. "Sato made dinner." Her smile turned knowing.

"Because you said that you were going to, right? How else would he have known what to make?" She placed a trembling hand on his cheek. "You've been so strong over the past month. Are you taking care of yourself, too?"

He looked down at his feet. "Trying to. I have some help." She smiled a little wider.

"That's good, sweetheart. We all need help sometimes. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like you've been here for me. And I'm sorry for asking you to keep it from them. I just—"

"I get it." He interrupted. "He's your son. You need me more. And don't feel bad about not telling them. Focus on him. Don't worry, Auntie—they're taking care of me," he promised. She pulled him in for a hug, and he reminded himself not to cry.

"You're a good boy, Katsuki. You're bad at expressing yourself, but you're so good. Don't forget it, sweetheart."

He pulled away, looking into her teary eyes. He wished he could blame hyperactive Midoriya tear ducts this time. "I actually—tomorrow Izuku's closest friends will be here. We're not super friendly with each other, and I don't want to intrude on their time with him. Do you mind if I wait outside while they're in here?"

"Of course not, Katsuki. You do what feels right. I can keep it together for their visit if you need to excuse yourself." She smiled sadly. "You don't need to do it alone."

He looked back down at the floor. "Thanks, Auntie."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As planned, they went to his parents' house that evening. He studied while his friends tidied up. Before they made their way back to the dorms, Katsuki pulled a shoebox out from under his bed.

"What's in there, Bakubro?" Eijirou asked as they walked.

"Memories." He replied. Eijirou eyed him.

"Wanna share them with us when we get back? Might make you feel better."

"...Sure."

And he did. His friends brought dinner to his room and bundled in blankets for show-and-tell. He showed them the pictures that his parents had taken of them over the years, from their wild adventures as toddlers in All Might onesies to the uncomfortable photo evidence of middle school "family" dinners. Even when things were strained, Izuku had been in his orbit.

He showed them the little gifts Izuku had given him over the years—at least the ones that fit in the box. That included a limited edition All Might keychain, a "World's Spiciest Recipes" cookbook, and a bookmark with a pressed and preserved leaf—the leaf from a tree on one of Katsuki's favorite hiking trails.

Throughout the evening, Katsuki's heart ached with impending loss. Nobody knew him better than Izuku.

"What's that?" Mina asked, pointing at the folded notepaper in the corner of the box. He sniffed, and wiped at his eyes. He didn't even remember when he started crying. Maybe around the time they'd looked at Christmas pictures.

He unfolded the notes carefully. They were worn and old, yellowing around the edges. "His very first analysis of my quirk. 'S where I got the idea for my hero costume. He's the one that came up with the gauntlets," he admitted, flattening the pages gently before handing them over. The handwriting and accompanying sketch were messy—they'd been done by a six-year-old—but they were detailed and precious.

"He would have been a kick-ass quirk analyst if he wasn't a hero," Hanta muttered, reading over his shoulder. "Those notebooks of his are insane. He came up with so many applications for my quirk in our first year, I'm still learning how to make most of his ideas work."

"He's the one that figured out how to increase my voltage without short-circuiting my brain." Denki smiled.

Mina cackled. "He's the one who figured out that I could make LSD if I ate certain grains!" They all laughed at that and oh it felt good to laugh.

"He's helping me design more versatile support gear with Hatsume." Jirou added, before pausing. "Oh. We should invite Hatsume to come with us to the hospital. We only have four people in our group." She said quietly. "He's one of her only real friends. I'm pretty sure he's the one who makes sure she's taking breaks and eating regularly when she gets all scary about her inventions."

They were quiet again. "Anyone have her number?" Katsuki grunted.

"I don't have her number, but I have some time to stop by her lab tomorrow." Jirou offered. "Our group is going the day after, so that gives her some time to shift plans around."

"Okay."

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He led the third group—Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Koda—to Deku's hospital room, but didn't enter with them. "You're not coming in, Bakugou?" Tokoyami asked, voice deep and brows serious.

"Those three need time with him. They're so pissed at me that if I'm in the room, I'll be the only thing they focus on." He muttered. "Auntie already knows I'm not coming in. I'm gonna be in the cafeteria doing some homework. Come find me when you're ready to leave."

Koda frowned, before bringing his hands up to sign at him. 'Are you sure?' the timid boy asked. 'You should spend as much time with him as you can.'

"I've got a month on you guys. And I'll see him tomorrow. Don't worry about it. Thanks, though." He replied before turning to leave. He missed the look that Tokoyami and Koda shared.

The reception staff smiled warmly at him as he passed. "You're not staying with your friends, honey?" One of Izuku's nurses—Yui, if he remembered correctly (he wasn't exactly good with names)—asked as he passed her in the hall.

"Homework. Gonna work in the cafeteria so that his friends can have some privacy and I can play catch up." He muttered.

"Aw honey, that's so thoughtful," she simpered. She dug in her pockets before handing him a little white card. "It's my employee card for the cafe. Get yourself some coffee and a snack. Just leave the card on Midoriya's bedside before you leave."

He frowned. "I can't accept this."

"You can, and you will. Don't think I haven't noticed you running yourself ragged taking care of your family, young man. It's very admirable. Let me do something for you in turn."

"You already are. You're keeping him alive as long as possible."

"And if he wakes up, I bet he'll be pissed if you're all skinny and malnourished." She replied stubbornly. "Just take the meal card."

He sighed. "Fine. Thank you."

"No sweat." She smiled, before sweeping away from him.

He bought himself a coffee and a curry bun before settling into one of the hellishly uncomfortable cafeteria chairs. All of his teachers had given him extensions, but he was loathe to use them. The longer he put off his work, the harder he'd have to slog in order to catch up.

He jolted when Tokoyami and Koda scraped chairs up next to him and took their seats. "You're done already?"

"We asked the other three if we could go first so that they could have alone time with Midoriya. They agreed. In fact, they seemed grateful." Tokoyami replied. "We thought we'd see if you need any help catching up. You're not far behind, but your mind hasn't been on academia of late."

He knew what they were doing. "You know I'm capable of being alone, right? I'm not gonna spontaneously combust or some shit. You should be taking advantage of your time with him."

'We'll do that when he wakes up.' Koda signed, jaw set stubbornly. 'Besides, you're doing a lot. The least we can do is help you stay caught up to the class.'

"After all, Midoriya will need tutoring when he returns."

What if he doesn't return? Katsuki wanted to ask. But they seemed to be stubbornly refusing the very high likelihood that Izuku was going to die, and Katsuki supposed he could let them have that for now. "Fine. Can you look over my outline for Cementoss's class? I haven't read the whole book yet but the test is next week."

"Sure." Tokoyami agreed, taking the notebook from him.

'Anything I can help with?' Koda asked.

"I'm stuck on the math homework." He admitted. Koda gestured for him to show him, and they got to work. They set up a steady rhythm, where Koda helped coach Katsuki through the problems while Tokoyami read through his Lit outlines and made notes. Time passed faster than he expected, and he was grateful for the distraction.

He was not grateful for what happened next.

"Katsuki—" It was Nurse Yui. He got the impression that she would have been running if it weren't against hospital policy. "Your classmates had to be escorted out by security. Mrs. Midoriya and your parents are really upset."

"What happened?" He demanded, jumping up.

"I'm not sure. I wasn't in the room, I just got there after your mom pressed the nurse call and asked me to get security. Mrs. Midoriya was nonverbal." Behind them, Koda and Tokoyami were packing his bag for him. He glanced at his phone and frowned at the time. It had already been two hours?

"I need to go check on our parents and find out what happened." He said, turning to them. Tokoyami handed him his bag.

"I'll go back and find out what happened from those three. Then I'll let Aizawa know that there was an incident. Koda, you stay behind with Bakugou and find out what happened from his parents' perspective. We're relatively neutral parties, so we'll be able to sort out what happened more calmly."

'Will do. Get going.' Koda instructed before turning to follow Katsuki who was already moving, following swiftly after Nurse Yui.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katsuki was pissed. It almost felt good. He'd been so depressed about the nerd, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel this kind of blinding fury. Beside him, Koda was pissed as well, and that felt good too. At least he knew he was justified.

'Go to the gym and blow something up. It's fine that you're pissed, but at this rate you'll blow up the dorm and you don't need to deal with that right now. I'll tell Aizawa what happened and send Kirishima your way.'

"I'm gonna rip them a fucking new one. You're nuts if you think I'm gonna let them off easy for this shit."

'Good. Don't. I might even yell at them,' he glowered. 'But before you go off you need to let off some steam. You don't need to deal with damage liability on top of everything else.'

He made a good point. "Send Ponytail too. She can make dummies that look like their stupid fucking faces for me to blow up," he snarled. Koda flashed him a thumbs up before splitting off from him to find Aizawa.

Momo and Eijirou found him in record time, and Momo didn't even hesitate before making the dummies he requested. "Wanna tell us what went down? Koda just told us where to find you and dipped to find Aizawa." Eijirou said as he helped set up the dummies around the gym.

"Tokoyami looked angry when he got back," Momo added.

He didn't look at them. His eyes were trained on the dummy-doppelgangers; glare fierce and furious. "They wanted to stay past their welcome. They'd been there for two hours and Auntie told them that she'd like to have time alone with Deku, but they hounded her to let them stay. Eventually, my mom tried to step in to put her foot down and they went off at her." He gritted his teeth, jaw grinding in anger. "Said it was her son's fault that they hadn't gotten to see Deku during the time that he was dying and that it was unfair that they'd kept the people who cared about him from seeing him. Auntie started crying and the hag called the nurse and told them that they were upsetting her, so if they didn't leave she'd call security to escort them out. Apparently, that set Icy Hot off, and he said they said that she was 'as malicious and selfish as her son' and yelled at auntie for not being able to see that we were keeping out people we didn't approve of by making her dependent on them. So when the nurse got there, Ma had her call security to drag them out. The hospital might not let the rest of the class visit after that episode. Auntie might not want the rest of the class to visit."

It was quiet for a long, pregnant moment. Then there was a series of loud thunks. Both boys turned to Momo and found her producing more copies of the training dummies. "That should be enough. Stay here until they're all destroyed." She instructed before turning and stomping out of the gym, ponytail swishing violently behind her.

"Where are you going?" Eijirou called after her.

"I didn't punch Iida hard enough last time!" She called back before disappearing through the doors.

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bbdaydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter Seven: Take What You Want

Series Masterlist•<Previous•Next>

“Are you done with the eyeliner? I need it,” Izumi asked Haruka as everyone was getting ready on the bus.

“Stupid. Fucking. Boot. ZIP UP!” Yui yelled in frustration as she yanked on her zipper that had gotten stuck on itself.

“Yui, be careful-“ you started only to witness them accidentally hit their forehead.

“Goddamnit!”

“Yui got a boo boo already,” Haruka sighed before handing the eyeliner to Izumi.

“Poor Yui,” you said rubbing her forehead to which Yui attempted to bite as a joke. “Ooooo feisty, let’s save that for the set, alright babe?” Yui got up and took hold of your ears gently and you did the same. Giving each other a toothy grin you started shaking each other’s heads and making a random sound but you decided to mess with her and let your forehead tap hers. Yui let out a yelp as you let go and ran off the bus to get away from her wrath.

“Y/n!”

“Not here right now! Please leave a message!” Yui was probably the person you were closest to in your band which meant she was the one that had to put up with your bullshit while you put up with hers.

“I’m gonna getcha! And then I’m gonna hitcha!”

“No you’re not!” Running into the venue you were trying to find a place to lose her until you saw Won’t Regret and decided to talk to them instead after realizing the time. “Hey, boys,” you greeted.

“Hey,” they all greeted back.

“You look really good tonight,” Ranmaru said to spite Semi.

“Boo! She does, doesn’t she?” Yui asked as she wrapped her arms around your torso only to move your body side to side with her like a penguin.

“Thanks! You guys look good too,” you said taking note of their ensemble.

“Thank you,” Ranmaru said, looking over at Subaru.

“Gotta impress the crowd, ya know?” Subaru said before stretching his arms upwards to show off the muscles he’s gained from drumming over the years.

Your eyes grew in size taking in Subaru’s form only to grow wider when taking in Ranmaru’s, who was bigger than Subaru due to him working out, when he started rolling his shoulders. Semi took notice of your reaction and knew what his band mates were doing the moment they first complimented you but they didn’t have to go this far. “Hey! You guys should probably start prepping your stuff on stage to make sure it sounds good. The guy is signaling for you.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Jiro said wanting to help his leader out. He walked behind Ranmaru and Subaru’s backs and gave them a slight push so they could start walking. The two were about to complain before the took in Semi’s glare. When they got to the edge of the stage they fist bumped knowing they accomplished their goal only to hear the crowd scream because they thought the show was gonna start.

“That’s literally the funniest part about performing live,” you stated causing Semi to ask you ‘what was’ while looking confused.

“Them being so excited that they’ll literally scream just by seeing someone get on the stage, even if it’s just a tech guy,” Yui answered.

“Or when the lighting changes! The room just gets a little darker for a second and all of a sudden someone shrieks which just cases a chain of other people doing the same while others laugh,” you added on.

“It’s cool seeing them get so excited. Gets me excited,” Semi said, looking longingly to the crowd.

“I gotta go piss. I’ll be back!” You told them, excusing yourself to go find the restroom. After walking around with no luck you eventually decided to ask a staff member to point you in direction of the bathroom.

Sometime during your search you could hear Won’t Regret start playing their set and when you finally made it to the comfort of the stalls, Semi was already at the second verse of the first song. When you felt it time you were ready to get up you heard a voice belting out the bridge.

“Rage!

I'm the bad guy, I'm the nice try

I'm the typical bitch with the rage

On my face

I'm the goddamn beast of the goddamn pride”

Your face grew warm from the raw emotion you could feel from the sound. After washing your hands you sprinted back to where you left Yui at side stage. She turned around as you were approaching and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Was that him?” You asked while pointing at Semi. The song had ended and he started introducing the band to the crowd.

Yui with the same stunned expression nodded her head before speaking. “Dude, this mother fucker got lungs.”

“It wasn’t Jiro or Ranmaru? Even Subaru?” You continued still not believing it was your old friend that could do that.

“It was him. Has he always been able to do that?”

“No! Where’s his guitar?”

“I don’t know. He performed the song without it. He’s something else. It’s crazy.”

“Maybe he took over the vocal role and left the guitar to just Jiro...” you wondered.

“Alright let’s keep the night going. This next song is called Girlfriend,” Semi spoke into the mic. Ranmaru started leading them into the song with his bass and Jiro and Subaru followed.

As they were playing the intro, Semi licked his upper lip before taking a deep breath and started singing. With every word he sung he nodded his head along with the music either up and down, back and fourth, or side to side; whichever way he felt was best for the moment. He would bring his mic stand closer to himself and then pull it away so he could take quick breaths. When he got to the pre chorus he started bouncing his right leg to match the instruments as he head banged along.

You were feeling as if this was a completely different person from sound check. He wasn’t as stiff as he was before, he was actually getting really into it.

At the chorus he grabbed the mic off its stand and started walking closer towards the crowd which made them start pushing against the barricade. Backing away to get ready for the second verse, he made his way over to Jiro who was on his on his left and rubbed the back of his hand on his cheek before proceeding to go over towards Ranmaru on the other side of the stage to boop his nose. Both gestures made some people in the crowd scream which you and Yui found funny.

Hopping to the beat of the repeating pre chorus into strutting along with the chorus, Semi made his way back to his mic stand and put the microphone back into its holder. At the bridge his voice got softer and he was swaying lightly side to side but as it progressed he leaned forward with the mic stand until it was almost on the ground only to gradually come back up while rolling his shoulders backwards.

Using both hands to hold the bottom of the mic that was still on the stand, Semi belted out the final verse that led into the ending of the song. He used both his hands to run his hands down his face into raising his hands to show his index and thumb fingers were connected while his other fingers were pointed upwards. He then pointed at the crowd only to then use his hands to make an hourglass shape. Ending the song by putting one hand on his chest and the other on the mic, he pulled the stand to the left side of his head so he could catch his breath. The crowd immediately started cheering and screamed even more when he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead.

“Girly,” Yui started, “I ain’t gonna lie to you, but that’ll make your pussy throb.”

“Yui!” You laughed not expecting those words to come out of your best friend after what you both had just witnessed. “Girl, I was literally about to say that made my pussy throb,” you responded to finish the meme.

“Is he single?” She asked in a joking matter.

“Yui!”

“Y’all better not be referring to Jiro,” Izumi said which made Haruka hit her on the arm. She looked at you two with a panic in her eyes which you guys responded with a smirk.

“Oh? Does our baby of the band have a crush?” You started.

“Does our little drummer girl like their little guitar hero?”

“I hate you guys” Haruka said as she crossed her arms and pouted.

You all put your arms around her instead of continuing to tease her and continued watching Won’t Regret perform. Some of the songs really blew you guys away. Each song had something different to say and even if you couldn’t relate to the songs personally, you could emphasize with them. At one point you had tears in your eyes because one song had hit Yui too close to home. Taking note of the time, you realized their set was almost done and you needed to do your warm ups so you led the girls to your green room.

“They’ve grown so much,” you started, crossing your arms over one another to stretch.

“I mean, they’ve been playing for years so it makes sense but Jesus didn’t they just recently get signed?” Yui asked, holding the back of foot behind her to her butt one at a time.

Izumi sat on the ground with her legs spread out and placed her hands in the middle to stretch before speaking. “Yeah, with that talent they should’ve been signed years ago.”

“I guess luck wasn’t on their side up until now,” Haruka responded while doing lunges.

On stage, Semi could feel the rush of adrenaline within him. He was on a high performing live with his band mates and he couldn’t be happier. He loved showing off and seeing you and your band mates watch him for a while only fueled him more, not to mention his band mates and the crowd did as well. He put out so much energy and was lucky that the crowd gave it back because many crowds don’t. Most people just stand and watch with a bored expression on their face during the opening band because they’re only here for the headliner.

“Thank you so much again! We’re Won’t Regret and we’ll be at our merch table once we get off stage. The night is still young so I hope you’re not tired yet and are excited for Courage My Love!” Semi spoke, resulting in the crowd hollering at the mention of your band. “Wow, you guys really like them. But what about One Ok-“ More screaming started before he could even finish speaking. “-Rock. I didn’t even finish saying their name!” Semi laughed. “You guys were a beautiful crowd. Thank you for your time and being the first people to ever hear us live in the US. We’ll meet you at the merch table!” Getting off stage the boys received so much applause they couldn’t help but look back and wave goodbye.

“That was amazing!” Jiro started once they were off stage.

“That was the best show I think we’ve ever played,” Subaru added, pinching his shirt and moving it so he could get some cool air.

“Good job, guys,” Ranmaru spoke, putting his bass down in its case.

“I’m excited to meet some of them,” Semi said.

Meeting some people after the show was a new experience for them this time. Back home when they met people, the majority of them were people they could recognize because of the amount of times they’d seen each other where here they’re in a completely different country. Everyone was new.

Not many people were lined up at the table, probably a good fifteen people were, which they assumed was because not everyone wanted to risk giving up their spot in the crowd.

“H-hi,” a girl with dyed blue hair stuttered as she approached the table. “Could you sign my book?” she asked, opening her composition note book to a blank page.

“Of course!” Jiro responded with a smile. Semi and Jiro had the best English so they did the majority of the talking while Ranmaru and Subaru would responded whenever they felt comfortable.

“Could I also get a picture?” she asked nervously.

“Yes,” Ranmaru, answered enthusiastically.

The guys posed behind the merch table while the girl stood in front of it and one of her friends took the picture.

“Thank you for hanging out with us,” Semi told them.

“Have a good day,” Subaru added, smiling and giving them a nod to which the new fan gave back.

The boys continued talking to the people that were in line for them and ended up staying there to watch your set from a distance. When your set was done they got up and ran to the bus so they could take a quick shower, Semi going first since he had to go back on stage.

Your band met with your fans after your set as well and left once On Ok Rock started to perform so you could shower as well.

When you were done you found Semi standing side stage watching Taka and his band perform. “Hey,” you started, surprising your old friend when he heard your voice.

“Hey,” he responded.

“Proud of you. You guys were incredible to watch.”

“I could say the same to you. I didn’t know you had that much energy in you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still lazy. The stage is where I really let myself bloom. I love it,” you told him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad you found your safe Heaven.”

When Taka announced that they were playing the final song, you and Semi stopped talking to pay attention to your cue to start getting on stage after one of the staff members handed you wireless mics. Semi took the lead and walked to the center of the stage when his part started only for you to follow when it was time for the duet. You continued your singing since the second chorus was assigned to you. Semi and Taka backed up to give you some space to have center stage but when it was over you and Semi crossed each other to switch positions. He sang the part that led into the bridge only to switch places with you again and then walk over to the left side of the stage. Taka stayed in the middle and you made your way over to the right side. As Taka sang the last chorus of the song you and Semi did your best to interact with the crowd before standing up to walk towards the middle of the stage while alternating lines. Taka sang the second to last line by himself and then you and Semi joined him to sing the last one together to end the night.

You both stood with an arm around Taka’s shoulders as he had his over yours and Semi. When the song was over, you and Semi moved to get off stage but Taka kept a hold on you both and spoke into the mic, thanking the crowd, your bands, and everyone else that helped make the show possible. He had you all bow together before turning and waiting for his band mates to come over so they could take a group photo with the crowd behind them.

Getting off the stage Taka thanked you for your performances tonight before letting you both go to your respective buses to relax and get ready for the next day.

“Welcome back,” Haruka yawned when you appeared.

“Hey. Is Izumi making curry?” you asked.

“You know it!” Izumi responded, following your tradition of her cooking her favorite curry on the first day of tour.

“I can’t wait,” Yui spoke, tired from jumping around. Taking a seat next to her on your small lounge couch, you rest your head on her shoulders and let your eyes close as you waited for Izumi to finish dinner.

Laying in his bunk after a long night, Semi couldn’t sleep. His mind was clouded with how the first night went. He was proud of himself and his band mates for doing really well their first night. They performed just like they usually did and didn’t hold anything back which made them surprise themselves. He honestly thought at least one of them, mostly himself, would’ve messed up. Eventually letting his mind wander a little, he thought of you.

He’s seen you perform on stage through his phone screen but never live in person. You were all smiles on stage moving your body along with the music while also never missing a beat. You were literally a pro. He also enjoyed watching you interact with the crowd and seeing you change your attitude when talking about certain topics regarding your music, most of them being about feminism, but other topics as well. He felt like he could watch you perform for hours and never get sick of it. He just wanted to listen to you.

Another thing he realized is that he would love to sing a song with you. The duet you both shared was probably his favorite part of the night because of the harmony he could hear through his headpiece was crystal clear since the majority of the crowd was blocked out. It was pure bliss to him.

He could still feel an attraction to you but he knew better than to jump on it because who knows if you still felt the same. On top of that you both decided to start anew instead of jumping into where you left off. He had to take things slow and see.

a/n: I wrote 90% of this all this morning all because I couldn’t get the songs out of my head. The first song Won’t Regret sings is another song by Badflower and it’s called Wide Eyes. I’ve been obsessed with Badflower since December like I basically listen to them daily they’re sooooo good. Also the song that made the girls emotional was Daddy by the same band.

I basically headcanon Won’t Regret as Badflower like I legitimately believe songs like theirs are what Semi’s band are like. Also if I remember correctly I’m pretty sure this hc is what led me to write this story. This is a long ass authors note oops sorry I just adore Badflower

Taglist: @pluviophilefangirl @yourstarvic @sunaswife @mynscorner @syaziahvg @discountkiyoko @blondemitski

#haikyu #haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi haikyuu #semi x reader #haikyu x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 1

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live in a smalltown run by a biker club. When your boss gets into debt, you find yourself drawn into the crossfire.

Note: Yesterday I tried writing Sugar, Sugar. That didn’t work out. I had a migraine on Monday that I’m still tiptoeing around. I wrote this a week ago but wanna continue it. Well, if there’s any interest in my doing so. So to those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Birch was a small town, named for the line of pale tree at its heart. The streets were built around it. It had stood for centuries like a guardian over residents. Like a harbinger of their eventual fates. White as a ghost, looming like the reaper.

And death lived in Birch. It rode the streets on iron steeds. The apocalyptic horseman roaring down the roads in leather. Oblivion was the bar on the main road.; The Asp was a remnant of the town’s birth. An inn for those who claimed to discover this “new world”. Cleopatra reclined along the sign’s moniker, a snake around her arm, poised to sink its long fangs in her throat.

Further down was the Chipped Saucer. The British were the first Europeans to settle here and when they supped with the Natives, they found their dishware cracked from their long journey. The tale outlived those early townsfolk painted across the window of sleepy old diner. The history of the forgotten town was long remembered because there, time didn’t seem to move very fast.

The town was more purgatory than hell. Few ever escaped it. You were among the trapped. A waitress in an aged yellow uniform and frilly white apron at the old diner. Sundays were busiest. The older folk were hungry after the weekly service and the younger residents were trying to caffeinate their hangovers.

You did your round of refills and returned the carafe to the machine. You took your time replacing the filter and adding the grounds. The rusted jingle of the bell above the door barely registered in your head. But the decisive stomp of boots did. Not just one set, not two, but more than you could count. You looked up as you closed the lid on the machine.

The diners sat frozen as if in a tableau. Not a single breath was drawn as you watched the leather-coated men walk between the tables. You didn’t need to see the patches on their backs to know who they were. Everyone knew who they were because they owned everything and everyone. The police, the town council, the mayor, and any who called Birch home.

Every small town has its dark secrets but the club had never really been a secret. The Howling Commandos had reigned since the boys returned from the war in 1945. Since, their mantle had been taken up by sons, nephews, cousins. Those glory days loomed as if it were only yesterday that the newspapers declared victory in Europe! Victor in Japan! Korea! Vietnam! Iraq!

You skirted behind the counter as Lillian, the oldest of the waitresses, stood by the kitchen window. Artie, the cook, neared the other side and gave a grunt at the bikers kicking around the diner.

“From what I heard,” He said loud enough for them to hear. “They serve hash down at The Asp, don’t they?”

“Artie,” Lillian hissed under her breath as she touched her immense bosom.

The diners, the servers, the bus boys, all exhaled in communal dismay. Mr. Elrich watched as Danny, the boy he’d once taught, took his mug of coffee and emptied it in a single gulp.

“Where’s Jimmy?” A golden-haired man stepped forward.

You knew him. Knew of him. He had been a few years ahead of you in school. He was held back and sat beside you in math and copied off your tests. Steve Rogers was too much trouble for a browner like you.

“Jimmy’s out,” Artie waved his spatula. “Can’t you see these people are tryna enjoy their breakfast?”

“Jimmy’s out,” Steve repeated slowly as he neared the counter. “Well, that’s a first. I always thought he slept off his Saturday nights in his office. Least I always found him half-asleep at his desk. Definitely wasn’t working.”

“You come back later when he’s in,” Artie shook his head. “Goddamn, boy, my eggs are burning.”

“Artie,” Lillian and several other waitresses wailed at him.

“How long you worked here, Art?” Steve was close. You could smell the leather and smoke as he passed you. His hand was on the door as he glared at Art through the window.

“Be thirty years, soon enough,” Artie answered defiantly. “Since you were a kid tossing your pancakes at the wall, you brat.”

Steve chuckled and pushed through the door. Several women screamed and men shushed them at the flurry that followed. The crash of pans as Steve grabbed the old man by his collar and pushed him against the window. You stepped through the door before it swung shut.

“Don’t.” You pleaded. “Don’t hurt him. Jimmy’s not here. None of us have seen him since yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve shrugged you away. “Loyalty is admirable. The man pays your check, so I understand your insistence on protecting him. I only wish he was as diligent in paying his dues.”

“St-stop,” You squealed as he his hand wrapped around Artie’s thick throat. “Goddamnit, you know Artie. You know he means no harm.”

“I know he’s always had a mean mouth,” Steve snarled. “Where’s that spatula now, hmm? You gonna give me a swat, Art?”

You looked around. The waitresses gaped through the window as the men loomed around the tables. Amused, they crossed their arms and watched the helpless old cook struggle. On the long steel table behind Steve was a large knife. Your heart pounded as you inched around him.

“Steve, come on, you can wait around for Jimmy,” You offered. “I’m sure he’ll be in. Hell, you’ll have more luck heading down to his. I’m sure he’s sleeping it off there.”

“I came here to get the money and I’m not leaving without it.” Steve snarled.

You bent slowly and took the knife, careful not to drag the blade on the floor. You stood and came around Steve. He glanced over as you pointed it at his neck. He chuckled as his eyes flashed.

“You don’t wanna do that, girl,” He warned.

“I don’t so long as you let him go,” You declared. “You go sit down, we’ll get you coffee, Art will cook you some bacon, and we’ll wait for Jimmy.”

“Don’t think I will.” Steve squeezed tighter as Artie turned red.

“Oh yeah?” You touched his neck with the blade’s edge. “You want Jimmy, no one’s keeping you from him but we can’t help you if you throttle poor Artie.”

A chuckle came from behind you. Deep and venomous. You looked slowly over your shoulder as the back door whisked shut. The knife slipped from your hand as you were faced with the barrel of a gun. The metal clattered to the tile as you dropped your arms and stared at the pistol’s mouth.

“You grew some balls since grade school,” Bucky remarked.

Him and Steve had always been inseparable. You should’ve known he wasn’t far. And as the main shareholder in the Asp and therefore the club, he was owed more than any. It would be a mark on the crest not to collect the debt himself.

“Wish I could say the same of you,” You retorted. “So, you gonna shoot me?”

He laughed again and Steve did too. “Let the man go,” Bucky said. “There’s a safe in the office. If there’s not enough in there, we’ll empty the till.”

He lowered the gun. Slowly as if taunting you. You turned to check on Artie as he leaned heavily on the wall. Steve headed for the door to the back hall where Jimmy’s office was.

“You okay?” You helped Artie stand straight. “You need some water. You should sit down. I’ll get Billy to finish service.”

“You are going to go out there,” Bucky said as he holstered his gun. “With the rest of the girls and stay away from sharp objects.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the door. “Artie, you get back to your tickets. These people look hungry.”

He shoved you through to the dining room and you stumbled into the counter. Artie coughed and wiped his sweaty hands on his apron. He waved at Billy, his sous chef, and ambled back to the grill.

It was a few minutes of tense silence filled only with the sound of pots, pans, and plates. As Artie called out an order and Lillian loaded her tray, Steve emerged from the back. Donny stood at the front door and kept any from leaving. Not than anyone had the strength or courage to even stand up.

“I don’t think we’re getting that thing open.” Steve said.

“Hey!” Donny shouted and the door chimed as he pulled it open.

Everyone watched as he raced out and chased Jimmy past the window. The small, greasy-haired man put up little fight against the burly biker and was dragged inside.

“There you are, Jim,” Bucky swung the door open and brushed past you. “We were starting to get impatient.”

“Bucky,” Jimmy’s voice cracked. “What are you--”

“Jim, let’s not play this game,” Bucky snapped. “I think you know I haven’t brought everyone here for breakfast so why don’t you help us crack the code and we’ll be on our way.”

“Crack the code?” Jimmy whimpered.

“We found the safe,” Bucky crossed his arms. “So, you open it up and we’re on our way. I only came for what’s mine. For what you owe me.”

“I-I-I--” Jimmy stuttered.

“Grab him,” Bucky ordered and Steve was quick to grab the thin man by his scruff and drag him across the diner.

Bucky led the way into the kitchen and the weak struggle could be heard as they disappeared through the back door. Artie called another order and Kimmie balanced it on her tray. When the three men returned, Jimmy had a bloody lip and Steve carried a black bag of what could only be the safe’s contents.

“Well, you see, we still got a problem here, Jimmy.” Bucky hauled him over to the window by his arm. “That’s not even close to what you owe and you’ve got late fees on top of it. Dodging me all week like this.”

Jimmy looked ready to cry as Bucky took his hand and slammed hit flat on the window’s ledge. He held his wrist down as he reached to his waist. “Check the register.” Bucky ordered.

Steve went to the till and hit every button until it opened. He emptied the drawer and shook his head. “Not even a hundred.” He scoffed.

“Pity,” Bucky pulled a knife from his belt. “Well then, Jim, there’s only one thing for you to do; pick a finger.”

“Wha--” Jimmy yelped. “What do you--”

“You pick a finger or I will find something worse to cut off.” Bucky lowered the blade and Jimmy flinched away.

“Please,” Jimmy begged. “I’ll get the money. End of the week, I promise.”

“You said that last week,” Bucky countered. “And I can’t gamble my integrity as lightly as you do, Jim. So hurry up or I’ll make you pick two.”

“Uh…” Jimmy quaked and went pale. ‘Th-the pinkie.”

Bucky was quick. The knife cut easily through flesh and bone and blood pooled beneath Jimmy’s hand in second. You covered your mouth as your stomach flipped and several people wretched, some followed by sloppy splats onto the floor.

Bucky held up the finger and admired it before he tucked it into his pocket and patted Jimmy on the back. “One week for the rest of it, Jim.” He strode through the door and stopped just beside the counter. He turned to you and smirked as he took the cloth from your apron pocket. “Get some pressure on that before he passes out, will ya?”

He handed you the cloth and winked. He nodded to his men and they filed out the door without another word. You blinked and shook yourself from your shock. You pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed Jimmy’s hand as he held his wrist. You pushed the rag to his severed pinkie and he hissed.

“Someone call an ambulance,” Your voice seemed to break the pall that had fallen over the diner. “Please!”

💀

By Tuesday, it was as if nothing had ever happened at the Chipped Saucer. The usual customers stopped by for their breakfast or lunch and Artie was back to his grumpy ways. The only thing that remained was the blood stain on the window ledge. And the bandage on Jimmy’s hand.

When you were done your shift, you hung your apron on its hook in the back and clipped your name tag on it. You covered up your hideous yellow dress with your black cardigan and grabbed your purse before you headed out. Your mother texted you to grab some cheese on your way home and a sixer of Blue for good measure.

You stopped by the grocer first and added a box of oreos to your bill. The liquor store was just next door and the after work crowd strolled its aisles. You traipsed to the back, the paper bag balanced against your hip as you browsed the cans and bottles. You grabbed some Blue and turned to head to the check out. You were the only person left in the aisle, well aside from one. Likely the reason for the sudden desolation.

Bucky Barnes stood before you in his leather jacket. You hadn’t noticed him there at the end of the shelf, watching you, arms crossed. You sighed and walked towards him, deliberately sidestepping him. You stopped short as he blocked you with his arm.

“Not even a hello?” He mused.

You scoffed and shook your head and stepped to the other side. He blocked you just as quickly. You tilted your head wryly and he smiled.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” He said evenly.

“Mmhmm,” You rolled your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m not up for it.”

You tried to shake him again and he caught you around your waist. “Honey, honey, honey.”

You wriggled away from him and almost dropped your armful.

“You had a gun in my face two days ago. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You had a knife to my man’s throat.” He said. “Think we’re even.”

“Just say whatever it is you want so that I can go home.” You grumbled.

“How you like working over there at the Saucer?”

“What?” You shook your head.

“Seems slow. Tips any good?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You challenged.

“Well, we got an opening at The Asp and you’ve got experience serving.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d put that out there. Not many ways to move up in this town.”

“I don’t wanna work at a dive.” You said through your teeth. “You done?”

“Sure.” He backed up and turned so he was almost against the shelf. He waved you past him. “Go home. Relax.” You began to step by him and he spoke again. “Say hi to your ma.”

You stopped but didn’t look back at him. You swallowed and carried your sixer to the counter. You set it down and dug for your wallet with one hand.

“It’s been covered.” Larry said as he scratched his thick mustache and glanced at Bucky. The biker pretended to peruse the white wines.

“No, it hasn’t.” You slammed a bill on the cans. “You give him his money back. Or keep it. I couldn’t care less.”

You waited for your change and grabbed the beer. You kept your head high as you swept out onto the street and past the motorcycle parked across two spots. You’d have to barter a can off your mom when you got in.

💀

On Friday, Jimmy called you to his office. He never called anyone to his office. Well except Kimmie but that’s because everyone knew what was going on between them. So you punched out and headed to the small back room with the dented metal desk from the 60s and the cinder block wall poorly disguised with flowery wallpaper. You knocked then entered when he replied.

You sat in the small chair with the orange cushion. The same one you’d sat your interview in. Jimmy spun his pen in his hand. He was jumpy. More than usual. The small safe hidden beside his filing cabinet was scratched but still in tact. He dropped the pen and twined his fingers together.

“So, uh, yeah,” He blinked and sniffed. “Well, this isn’t… easy. Not quite sure how to say it really.”

You were quiet. Confused. You scrunched your lips and listened. You had a bad feeling. Unusual things didn’t happen for no reason. Not in a small town.

“Heh, well, I’m sure you know I’ve come into some financial hardship and, well, it looks like...uh,” He sat back and smoothed his greasy, thinnng hair. “I’m gonna have to let you… go.”

“Let me go?” You repeated. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I need the, uh, cash,” He turned back and forth in his chair. He was nervous.

“Cash. Sure. You couldn’t sell that heap of junk parked outside?” You sneered. “I have no doubt this has something to do with those goons but I don’t think you’re being honest about the why.”

“Look, I’m real sorry. You’ll get severance.” He sputtered.

“You can’t afford to keep me on but you can afford the pay out?” You scoffed and stood. “Let me ask you, have you received any other visits from your friends at The Asp?”

He shook his head frantically.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around Larry’s to grab a mickey at all? Or passing by? Maybe Tuesday night?”

“It’s a small town. I got nowhere to hide.” He cowered.

“Suppose there’s nothing else to say. Nothing I can say.” You threw up those hands. “You tell Bucky you were a good boy, okay?”

“I…”

“I get it. You owe them.” You started to turn away. “When should I expect my cheque.”

“Usual,” He answered glumly. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You stopped by the door. “You remember how sorry you are the next time you pick up a cue, eh.”

💀

Another trip to the liquor store, this one unimpeded. A bottle of wine from some unheard of vineyard on some distant island. You carried it home in the bag, its shape visible beneath the wrinkled paper. You went in the back way, as you always did. Your mother’s dog, Ash, wiggled his bum as you stopped to pet him. You let him inside as you entered the kitchen.

Your mother was at the counter, working on dinner. You set the bottle on the table heavily and sat. You let your purse fall to the floor and sighed.

“Hey, hon,” She said. “How was your day?”

You grumbled and unsheathed the bottle. You crumpled the bag and tossed it in the middle of the table. You unscrewed the lid and drank from the long neck. Your mom stopped her chopping and turned with a hand on her hip.

“Rough one?” She asked.

“I got fired.” You said numbly.

“Fired? For what?”

You shrugged and took another drink. She huffed and set aside her knife. You listened as she opened and closed a cupboard and crossed to you. She set down a glass.

“Pace yourself.” She reproached.

You frowned and filled the glass to the rim. She tutted and went back to the counter.

“It’s because of them.” You said at last.

She looked at you but kept quiet. She knew who you meant.

“Some kind of game.” You muttered.

“Oh, Lillian told me about your heroics.” Your mother sighed. “I knew you weren’t telling me something.”

“Christ, ma, they were gonna give Artie a heart attack,” You exclaimed. “What was I supposed to do? He’s a defenseless old man.”

“And? The Commandos are thugs. They have no qualms against old men and young women.” She dumped her cutting board in the pot and covered it. “Losing your job is nothing. You could’ve lost a lot more messing around. You know how things work.”

“Not as well as you, yeah?” You drank deeply. “Dad learned it the hard way, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” She assured you and took a glass of her own from the cupboard. She sat with you at the table. “You’ll find something else. Something better than the diner. That little tourism place, they need a new receptionist.”

“Great, I’ll get my resume printed tomorrow.” You poured her a more modest glass. “It’s a show. Don’t worry, ma. They just want to wave their-- well, you know.”

“You just stay clear of them. Let them find bigger fish to fry,” She advised.

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shenglingyuan · 4 years ago

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title: seize the day and after hours(ao3) pairing: gojo satoru/geto suguru A jujutsu sorcerer’s life is always busy, especially those of the strongest ones, so when a window of opportunity opens itself up just to relax and be with someone you care most about, one can only give in to it. Notes for this AU: In-demand jujutsu sorcerer Gojo x Teacher Geto! In this setting, Toji failed in his mission and still got k-worded, Riko successfully merged with Tengen, so Geto didn't spiral down the "I hate monkeys" hole and Gojo didn't think of becoming a teacher. \o/

“It’s of vital importance that you do not forget to put up a Curtain before you start a mission, even if you cannot see the curse at first glance,” Suguru then carefully dismantles the Curtain before five pairs of inquisitive eyes, “Can anyone tell me why?”

A hesitant hand rises up in the air.

“Yes, Nanako?”

“Uhm, because non-sorcerers might get to see if ever the exorcism becomes a big event and it’s important that we keep the matters of the jujutsu world hidden from them to keep the status quo?”

“Yes, exactly,” Suguru smiles at her. Then, upon noticing the nearby presence, he makes his voice a little bit louder, “So don’t ever forget to set up a Curtain unless you want to be like a certain someone whose magnificent accomplishment of exploding a house got featured in the news.”

“Hey Suguru, stop slandering my renowned name in front of the kids.” The ‘renowned’ Gojo Satoru saunters over to their group, distributing the several bags on his hands. “Got you all souvenirs!”

“Did I lie?”

“Nope. Totally happened.” Satoru grins cheekily, standing next to Suguru and hooking an arm around his shoulder. “Missed me?”

“We’re still having a lesson here.” Suguru flicks at Satoru’s forehead, but he doesn’t pry away from his hold. It’s been over a week since they last saw each other after all. He did miss the man. “Any contribution to make up for your disturbance?”

“Hmm, let me think…ah! If you want to exorcise curses, you’ve got to be crazier than them.”

“That’s not particularly helpful.”

“It’s because you’re unimaginative.”

In front of five unwilling audiences, Satoru clings to his side like a leech. Suguru tries with all his might to deliver the last few important points of the day’s lesson, with one of his hands keeping Satoru’s face at bay from smothering his own.

“And that’s all for today’s session. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss some preparations before your next field assignment.”

“Yay! Suguru’s mine now!” Satoru almost didn’t let him finish his final remarks, squeezing by his side even tighter.

“Gah,” Nobara is the first one to openly show her complaint about the public display of attention in front of them, “Can you please have some consideration for us single students, Gojo-san?”

“Aren’t you too young to be thinking of romance?” Satoru answers back as if he’s talking to someone of his own age. “No dating until you’ve graduated!”

“Weren’t the two of you already dating during your second year in high school?” Megumi points out without missing a beat.

“What?!” Yuji’s jaw dropped, “They’re that long already?”

“Because it’s true love, dear students,” Satoru answers confidently, providing Suguru much embarrassment.

“Anyway,” Suguru finally cuts them off, “This has been a very fruitful conversation. You can go spar now, maybe the second years are looking for sparring partners as well.”

Teacher and students finally part ways, with the teacher dragging a long clingy blindfolded man with him. Satoru recounts to him every detail of his trip the past two weeks, even those that are not related to the mission at all, and Suguru is all ears. Ever since they reached Special Grade level as sorcerers, they’ve been given fewer missions together. Sorcerers are very few, after all, and they need to maximize their numbers efficiently. Sometimes, Suguru would find himself wishing there’s some especially dangerous situation that would require both of their presence, but he’d take back the thought as soon as it’s out, still preferring this kind of stability. So for now, he can only live through Satoru’s lively retelling.

Right as they arrived at their shared room, Satoru finally ends his narration.

“Seems like it’s another breeze of a mission, huh,” Suguru pulls off the blindfold over Satoru’s eyes and smooths down his hair.

“Mhm,” Satoru wraps his arms tightly around Suguru’s waist, burying his face on the crook of his neck. “Would have been faster if you were there.”

“Do you even need me?”

“Of course! What are you talking about?” Satoru lifts his head and stares directly at Suguru’s eyes, “Individually, we are strong enough to take down the most powerful curses. But together, I bet we could take all over the world.”

“And your point being?”

“Since we’re not onto world domination yet, we can’t help but not be together all the time.”

“Idiot.” Suguru presses a finger on Satoru’s forehead, earning him a pout. “No world domination. Keeping the peace is enough.”

“Mmmm…yeah but I still want to do something about those idiotic higher-ups.”

“You’re too chaotic for your own good. How about settling here and teaching with me instead?”

“Suguru.” Satoru’s tone is suddenly serious. His hands grabbed at Suguru’s waist, pulling him close. “Is that a marriage proposal? You know I’m gonna say yes.”

“Still thinking about it.”

“What a tease.” Satoru’s fingers find their way through Suguru’s hair, undoing his bun to let his hair loose. He then leans forward, uttering lazily against his mouth, “If you don’t propose first, I might just do it ahead of you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.” With a smile, Satoru closes the distance with a kiss.

Suguru sighs into it, letting Satoru lazily nibble on his lips. Some days, it’s more than enough to just lay down and let time pass, no rush, no urgency, just the two of them entangled in each other’s arms. A jujutsu sorcerer’s life is always busy, especially those of the strongest ones, so when a window of opportunity opens itself up just to relax and be with someone you care most about, one can only give into it.

_ _

A familiar ringtone wakes Suguru from his sleep, his eyes opening to the darkness. The analog clock by the wall shows 07:21 PM…he has been out for a few hours. A weight is draped over him, rendering him unable to move for a moment.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Phone.”

Satoru doesn’t budge. “That’s yours.”

“Well, how can I move with you wrapped around me?”

After a slight pause, Satoru reaches for the phone himself and answers the call. “Hello? Oh, Auntie, you called! Yeah, he’s right here. Nah, you didn’t bother us at all. I’ll give the phone to him now.”

Suguru takes the call, stifling a yawn as he answers, “Hello Mom, it’s been a while.”

He watches as Satoru lazily walks to the cabinet and pulls out a set of comfortable clothes, simultaneously gracing him with an unhindered view of his naked back.

“Yeah, it’s good here, just a bit busy with the students’ upcoming field assignment…Hm? Wait let me ask,” he covers the mouthpiece and sits up, “Satoru, Mom’s asking when we can visit.”

“As soon as you’re free,” his head comes out of the shirt, hair all messy, giving him a youthful and unrestrained look, “I have all the privilege to request a leave anytime I want. I’ll go get us dinner, okay?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Suguru waves him away, returning to the phone call with his mother, “I think we can visit during the break if there’s nothing urgent. Is there something up?”

The door outside shuts close. Satoru turns to his side, his gaze landing on the frames displayed on the bedside table. The largest among them is a group picture from last winter vacation — him, his parents, Satoru, and the four kids. For some reason, it felt like a family picture, so he had it especially framed, taking center spot among the others.

“Well, the girls are always on their phones in their free time, of course, they’d be easier to contact than me. It’s a bit busy handling a class of five, they said it’s already a big batch. Yes, yes, I’ll tell them that.”

Ten years ago, after Suguru has successfully rescued Mimiko and Nanako from that one village, he immediately went to his parent's house to ask for their help. After all, what does a seventeen-year-old know about taking care of kids? His parents were initially shocked, but upon hearing the situation, they immediately took pity on the girls and gladly took them in. You’re always in Tokyo anyway, the house feels a bit empty without a kid, they said. But the girls wanted otherwise. After a bit of coaxing, Suguru managed to convince them to stay in his family’s house until at least he graduates from Jujutsu Tech, then he will take them back to Tokyo to live with him.

Little did he know, Satoru would also pick up two kids to take care of, and this was after he declared he would not babysit anymore after they completed their task with Riko two years prior. They’re not simple kids either; though they go by the surname Fushiguro, the boy — Megumi — has an inherited technique of the Zen’ins, and yet Satoru fought tooth and nail to be their guardian. Since he didn’t want them to be involved with the jujutsu world yet, he decided to let the kids stay in Sendai until Megumi has to attend Jujutsu Tech.

The twins and the Fushiguros occasionally met when Suguru would come to Sendai with Satoru, but last year’s winter, they decided to spend it in Suguru’s home much to his parents’ delight, and they were one complete family.

Suguru smiles at the memory, just as his mother finishes her long list of reminders for the kids on the other side of the phone.

“Okay, okay, you take care, too. I won’t forget. Love you. Tell Dad I love him, too. Bye.”

After stretching a bit, Suguru finally gets up from the bed and picks up his scattered clothes on the floor, dressing himself up. Just as he is about to wear his shirt, he catches sight of the marks on his body, most especially the bruising spot on the nook of his neck.

“Goddamnit, Satoru,” he mutters, coming closer to the mirror to check how badly Satoru left evidence. “Gonna make you pay next time.”

“Dinner’s here!” Just then, Satoru’s head pops from the doorway, his blue eyes peeking right above the rim of his sunglasses. He sees Suguru standing in front of the mirror, then chuckles audibly.

“Shut it.”

“What?” A sly smile grows on Satoru’s lips as he strides closer to Suguru. He caresses the bruising mark on the nook of Suguru’s neck, then bends down to lightly kiss it, murmuring, “Any complaints about my service earlier?”

“Magnificent as always,” Suguru sighs defeatedly, “The marks you leave though…”

“I made sure your uniform will hide this,” Satoru winks at him in the mirror. “Come on, I got food.”

He drags them to the dinner table where two bowls of meatballs and steaming rice are waiting for them, “Here, eat up.”

“You bought this?”

“No, the kids made that. Yuji was teaching them earlier when I dropped by. Mimiko and Nanako especially made these meatballs for you.”

“And how about the meatballs in the bowl you’re eating?”

“Megumi made this for me.”

“…”

“He made this for his friends, but I took it.”

Suguru flashes him a smile, “I love it when you’re being honest.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you really make that much of a bad first impression on that kid? I can’t believe it’s been nine years, but he still hasn’t warmed up to you.”

“I dunno,” Satoru pouts, trying to recall the memory of their first meeting together. “I wish he could rely on me more, you know, like how the girls rely on you.”

“I do think they rely too much on me, I’m still wondering if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Well, I guess it’s because they see me as a parental figure, too. Does Megumi see you like one?”

“…”

“Figured as much. He doesn’t know about the real deal from your negotiations with the Zen’in clan, doesn’t he?”

“No need to tell him that. I don’t want him to feel indebted either way.”

“Mm-mh,” Suguru smiles. Satoru can be such an insensitive prick sometimes, but when about the most important matters, his compassion pulls through. “Megumi’s such a spoiled child with you.”

“As if you’re not spoiling the twins yourself? Why is Mimiko’s phone new again?”

“Ah…her previous one got destroyed while on a mission with Nanako last week. Of course, I had to buy a new one immediately.” Suguru reaches into Satoru’s plate and grabs one of the meatballs, quickly eating it before Satoru can complain. “Unlike you, buying stuff for Megumi and Tsumiki even though they don’t need it yet. A good thing those two kids have a sound head above their shoulders. You’re such a bad influence — huh, these meatballs sure have so much ginger.”

In revenge, Satoru steals one of Suguru’s meatballs as well, munching on it with much gusto, “Gonna have to use my money somewhere, you know, since you still don’t want to marry and all.”

“Can we get married here in Japan?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Not yet. Flying to another country to make it happen is no big problem though, just say the word.”

“Since when have you been a fan of formalities?” Suguru raises an eyebrow at him, “Don’t use me as an excuse to squander your fortune.”

“Come on! Think of it: when we get married, you’ll be officially under the Gojo clan. We’ll have two Special Grades in one family, the higher-ups would be so pissed!”

“You!” Suguru gives him a light kick underneath the table, “And here I thought you’re being serious. Turns out you just want to get under those old men’s nerves.”

“Of course, I’m serious! Just noting out the fact that there’s that bonus,” Satoru grins, wiggling his eyebrows, “What do you think?”

So many years have passed, it can be said that they’ve also developed in different aspects. But in simple moments like this, Suguru is reminded that though the two of them have grown together, many things never really change through the passing of time. Just like when Satoru once suggested the idea of going against Master Tengen and he readily agreed to it, this newer plan doesn’t seem less achievable. What’re a few higher-ups with the two strongest jujutsu sorcerers in Japan?

Finally, Suguru grins back, “Sounds like a great deal to me.”

#satosugu #goge #jujukai #i write sometimes #just some domestic fluff #i tried to fluff #some talks of marriage

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sly-merlin · 4 years ago

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killing me - 5 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : slight mention of weapons , cursing

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! ) @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @exfolitae @minejungwoo

{reposting because of the stupid tag problem}

K.M masterlist

k.m 4 k.m 6

tuesday

“How’s everything doyoung?” taeyong’s deep voice echoed through the spacious basement.

“I have double checked, just in case. CCTV’s are handled, there would be no interference, like always, but -”

“But!” taeyong raised his brow at doyoung.

“You can’t deny that yuta is best with knives so why not just let him join as well?” he verbalized his opinion. Despite only doyoung speaking, it was beyond doubt that every single men in the room agreed with him. Yuta paired well with his knives and pistols, proving to be an asset for the already well packed, trained squad.

“It sounds more like you chickening out than your concern for the assignment do!” taeyong replied, giving doyoung a smug smile. Doyoug would rather fix affairs outside the business than being involved directly but taeyong loved teasing him for choosing the more sheltered option.

“When have I ever done that!” doyoung’s high pitched voice earned him few laughs from the room. “But you know-

“I’m not going to fall for your sweet tongue. Save it for others!” doyoung sighed loudly, focusing again on his holster.

“I CAN’T FIND THE SUPPLEMENTARIES” mark shouted from other side of the room addressing no one in particular. Taeil grimaced at his voice, running to join him near the cabinets he was rummaging through since forever.

“What are you missing? And don’t shout next time!”

“Aah sorry hyung. I want some magazines. Last time I fell short of them.”

Taeil nodded briefly and went on helping him in finding bullets for his personalized gun.

Everyone was getting ready for some action at the centre of gangnam. Some protection fee disagreements had led to a clash with some other faction, needing immediate action. A strike at the centre of well-protected city was never easy but that was the reason that mafia in seoul was mostly underground and well hidden. People knew what was taking place in their surroundings but no one was aware of the sources from which it materialized.

“Am I not invited?” all the heads turned towards the rather small metal door. Yuta was standing on the stairs, his body leaning forwards, supported by his hand on the upper frame of door.

“No. you are not.” taeyong said while moving his head playfully, flinging a knife back and forth to show yuta what he was missing. thrill

“Oh come on, you guys can’t go without me. They are called dagger’s troop for a reason.” he descended the stairs, making a dramatic slow entry to the room. “And to handle them, you need me. The dagger king himself!” his exaggerated hand gestures were now irritating taeyong.

“It’s a no again. And besides we have our switchblade prince so we’ll hardly need you.”

“Ten has never handled them before and you need someone experienced to wrap up quickly. He is short-

“Short and skilled who taught you to use knives in the first place, yuta. Don’t make baseless arguments. If you want to do something, then go, sit with the techies. Maybe you’ll learn some tech from min or hyuck or you can join renjun and xiaojun in the med facility. Absorb their energy and acquire some patience! You need it more than they do actually”. Everyone was now focusing on their heated convo.

“Taeyong, I agreed to your proposal that is clearly not in any way beneficial to me, so now, you have to restore me here. I’m needed and you know that!”

“You are needed indeed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it without you. You are useful until you are not dangerous. This is underground yuta. An apology won’t make up for something that you’d lose forever and you understand what I’m saying. So please move out.” taeyong’s stern voice echoed in the room again. Yuta wanted to argue back but the words got stuck in his throat. His hands went through his already messy hair whilst he eyed a chair with infuriation.

Glancing one last time at taeyong with his hooded eyes, he hit the chair with extreme force, leaving the room immediately. Ascending the stairs he felt too many emotions at the moment. He has never felt like an inconvenience to his own people before, his most slips ups just going unnoticed by everyone. Others, rather than being seen as a trouble appreciated the expertise he acquired here. Until specific someone decided to barge in!

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

Wednesday

“We should eat here more often, I’m so glad the café was full!” yugyeom and yeong nodded their heads in agreement. The three of you were sitting in the garden next to the cafeteria, eating your sandwiches. The sky was filled with grey clouds, the cool breeze brushing your skin and shirts flowing in the wind’s direction. The weather was happy and so were you all.

“Give that scarf a break y/n. it’s been two days. This combination is an eye sore!” yeong told you off earning an eye roll from you.

“It’s the 3rd day!” gyeom corrected her.

“Yaaah! Who bought you the sandwich!” you huffed at him. As you expected, yeong pinched her nose, showing how disappointed she was in you.

“Y/n. you need to start the exercise again.”

“Noooo” you whined at her, wriggling your whole body. you’d rather choose staying in the dorms than doing her fashion exercises!

“Before leaving the room in the morning, you will send me a picture of your outfit. I don’t want to do this like last time so please don’t argue. Thank you and now please remove this fashion blunder” she said everything in a honey dripping voice, reminding you of the last time when you disobeyed her same order.

Yugyeom chuckled with the sandwich still in his mouth before responding to her demand. “Leave it yeongie. The scarf is hiding her sinful deeds. I’d prefer you see her with it, not otherwise. Maybe wonwoo gave a standing ovation worthy performance this t—-aahhh! Don’t hit me doofus.” But you kept attacking him with your bag, yeong was watching you both with a dissatisfied look but it was nothing she wasn’t used to already. He tried to dodge your actions but you were tougher especially with the weapon in your hand. He was sprawled on the ground now, laughs turned into recurrent coughs. “Sorry y/n. y/n

“y/n” you both looked at each other when you heard a third voice calling your name.

You straightened yourself, visage turning jovial, neck craning to face the visitor.

Your relaxed posture stiffened at the sight of the said caller.

Yuta.

Yuta was standing there, beaming towards you. He waved at you, which you couldn’t return because of the initial shock you were in. what was he doing here. Yugyeom and yeong were also staring at the stranger.

Yuta extended his hand for you to lift you up from the ground, but you didn’t move an inch. He inclined his head a bit, questioning you silently. You took his hand to rise up. Your friends were now curiously watching the awkward exchange.

Yuta gave others a toothy smile, waving energetically at them as if they were long lost friends he just found today. And he did indeed looked like one of you. with black polo tucked in his washed jeans, blond hair down and earnings adorning his earlobes, he looked like a normal extrovert student , who could turn people into friendly puppies just with a flash of smile.

“Can I borrow y/n for a minute? I won’t take long , I promise” he blinked his eyes at them , assuring your friends that he wasn’t abducting you , which was, you guess, his first instinct, assuring people of his virtuous intentions . He took your hand and started dragging you towards the concrete path. As soon as you were out of other’s eyes, he jerked your hand away making you groan loudly.

“Why are you so rash? Don’t you have sense? What the hell are you doing here and how the fuck did you find me in this goddamnit big campus!” you growled at him.

“Stop bitching at me! I’m not Johnny or taeyong, watch you fucking tongue in front of me!” yuta fiery eyes bored into yours. The previous cheerful expression already changed into one of frustration.

“Then don’t treat me like one yuta. Simple as that! You might not be used to this, but I am not a servile flatterer.” you retorted, mirroring his aggression.

You crossed your arms against your chest, titling your head to reciprocate his look. “Now say why you are here cause unlike you, I have work to do!”

Yuta scoffed at your words, his hand graciously fixing his now messed up hair. You took this time to give him a once over. He was distracted by the wind, and you by his face. At first blush, he looked devastatingly fuckable but your self-esteem was of far more importance right now. You hated men who had no regard for women and at this point, yuta’s behaviour was fulfilling all the essentials.

“What did u mean that day when you said you’d be leaving,” he was still giving you the same stern look but his voice came surprisingly calm “what is there between you and taeyong that I’m missing?”

His question confused you. You were sure that the conversation between you and taeyong was not so classified. So maybe yuta was there just to bother you.

“See! I’m not at all obliged to answer you. So you better ask your boss. And never show up here again, unless you are called, which would obviously never happen!”

“Just answer me! I’m not here for your bloody lecture!” he tiredly blurted at you. But you were adamant so you just turned away from him.

You were about to successfully dodge him when he caught your forearm and in a flash, pulled you against himself. You were now eyeing his chest, which was soon replaced with his face. He had leaned down to face you, his eyes scanning your now alarmed expression. His eyes lowered to your chest which was stuck due to the breath you had sucked in.

“Breathe baby. I come in peace. No need to be afraid.” he said softly and you’d have believed him, if you were blind to his capabilities. You struggled to step away from him but his grip was tightening enough to bruise your arm. He found your little effort very amusing.

“At least you are entertaining hmm.” he jerked away your arm again, this time you let out an audible yelp. “I just came to check your status, nothing else” he said looking particularly nowhere.

“my what?” You asked him, rubbing your arm to soothe the stinging sensation. You were also perplexed at how he simply forgot about the previous topic.

He feigned hurt, rubbing over his chest “don’t be so hostile. I wanted to know about your status with your friends. The one you were hitting so cutely! He’s one of your friends who know everything about you right.”

“You don’t need to be so friendly. Bear with my hostile attitude coz that’s what you’ll be getting from now on.”

“At least you are acknowledging this union.” his mocking tone was nauseating you. “So when are you going to introduce me or do I have to take the initiative!”

“Stay away yuta. I’m not your laughing stock.”

“Okay, so you are not going to do it!” he gave you a once over mid-sentence. “Fine. I’ll do it by myself.” he started walking down the path to the garden your friends were sitting in. but before you could stop him, you saw both of them coming your way. You hurriedly ran over to them, passing yuta. He was seriously enjoying your distress.

“Shorty, your bag.” gyeom handed you your bag. “We have to go to class .your sandwich is in the bigger one. eat it before going to library and we are going to 67th street again. Meet you there tonight”

“No I’ll pass”

“And who is that hunk? Your secret boyfriend?” yeong questioned wiggling her brows. Before yuta could take charge of the situation, you spoke to fit it to your own mould.

“n-no. He-he’s a junior’s older brother. Just here to talk about his poor situation.”

“Okay. But he’s so your type. You can try something you know” she whispered, your eyes widening in pure horror.

“He can hear us yeong!!!” but she took a back step before you could say anything else.

“Ok bye bye. see you later. And don’t wear that scarf again or I’ll increase the time period of exercise.” she shouted. You showed a middle finger to her which was returned with a flying kiss.

“The scarf! I totally missed it!” you rolled your eyes before facing his smirking self, his breath fanning your neck hair, his face being too close for your liking.

“You look quite fond of hickies. Just let these one disappear then I can decorate you myself.” he whispered, voice meant only for you to hear.

“Meet you on Saturday, babes. I think I’ll lose my sleep if I admired you anymore!” he whirled around leaving your fuming form behind. it was as if he was fond of having his last say in every conversation.

“These hickies would only disappear in your fucking dreams boy!” you murmured, glaring at his back.

The true intentions of his sudden appearance were masked by his fake excitement but that had struck a chord in you. You couldn’t avoid it for too long. Sooner or later, it had to be done.

starting with your roommate.

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

Your vision was almost blurry for the time you spent staring at your door, takeout from her favourite restaurant dangling from your arm. Chelin was inside waiting for you. She was busy these days like any other student but you always had some tricks up your sleeve to get her to agree. Today it was her favourite authentic Chinese dumplings. You shifted from one foot to another to calm your nerves, like it was going to make any difference. You had to tell chelin and this laborious task was to be accomplished today. Now or never, you decided finally, knocking on the door.

The door opened almost instantly.

“Why do you make me walk when you have the key!” she said, pretending to be irritated at you.

You stuck your tongue at her whilst shoving the food bag in her face. Sniffing the bag, her eyes widened, sparkle adoring her black orbs and lower lip trembling to form the most stupid fake emotional look she could muster. You lifted yourself up to flick her frowned forehead playfully. Both of you broke into laughter, the room turning lively.

“What is it this time?” chelin asked you curiously, making her way to the small corner you both called kitchen. You removed your bag and shoes meanwhile.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you and talk, you know. It’s been days since we have seen each other properly.” you replied gently. Chelin was 4 years younger than you in age but only 2 years behind in classes. Her intelligence was hard to be matched. That’s why even being younger than her classmates, she was the smartest. A deadly combo of beauty with brains.

“ohh.” she returned .you reached out for the food boxes and moved to let her sit on your bed. “Now tell me what it is. This restaurant doesn’t deliver inside uni and you have to wait 45 minutes for their delivery and unless you want something-

She trailed off, wiggling her brows at you.

You have always been the most amusing subject for her psychology projects, defying everything her books said. You were suprising, yet predictable.

“I’ve got an internship” you blurted out a lie, eyes setting on the food instead of facing her.

“Nothing new in that. You get them all the time without even applying, unlike us. But what happened to your mantra, Chois or nothing!!!” she declared her surprise.

The only way to make your story credible was to avoid her eyes and occupying yourself with dumplings was the best tactic at this point.

“Yes, but I’m not going to do freelance writing anymore. It’s boring and its paid internship and not a servant service so I’ll give it a try.”

“Hmm. good. But you didn’t spend your precious money just to inform me of another shot right! So get on the point.”

You chewed the food in your mouth, before putting an end to her queries.

“Umm. I might be moving out” you said sheepishly to gauge her reaction. The dumpling which she was about to put in her mouth was now messily dipped in the sauce pot.

“You are what?”

“I’m moving out!”

“But why and where?” she straightened her back at the seriousness of your statement, the food long forgotten now.

“It’s not finalized yet” you stated shrugging your shoulders. “I want a place near the northern or eastern court complex. It’s going to be easy if I start already. And chois are also located there.”

“Which company?” while bundling your lies, you had missed this. Nervously, you picked up the chopsticks again trumping up an answer to satisfy her.

“Aah umm moon industries!”

An audible gasp escaped her mouth. She was shocked at first but regained herself in no time.

“Anything is possible if it’s you.” you knew that this would work. you were a graduate so job offers were not anything suspicious.

“you can finally have your peace.” you made an effort to lighten up a bit but chelin went quite for a moment.

“So you are leaving me. Just like that.” her voice came out as a mere whisper. You looked up to find her glossy eyes, a heaviness in her voice. You didn’t expect her to be such responsive!

“You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“don’t do this chel-

“And who would buy me ice-cream when I breakup with jay again. An- and who will remind me to change my toothbrush. My hangover pills. And moreover how are you going to make your food. Your only source of homemade food is me. You are still scared of the beeping of the bloody oven. You always eat cold takeout’s when I’m not here!” as she ranted, you felt your own legs trembling at her voice.

“Take me with you” she said abruptly making you shook your head at her. You knew she won’t be easy but you hadn’t anticipated this at all. You had to lie again, for her own sake.

“it’s not feasible chelin. I’m gonna be an hour away. but my job demands that’s why I’ll have to move out. you can’t afford living outside of campus right now. don’t make this harder, please.”

And you saw visible stream of tears leaving her eyes. You wanted nothing more than to hug her tightly and cry out your own sorrows but you couldn’t. You were not allowed to express your feelings just yet.

“Why can’t you just stay? I don’t want to live without you!”

“It’s just a year more anyway.” you tried to justify your departure.

“A full year! And that’s different. I’ll also be leaving next year but now it’s just you!”

“Move in with jay, chelin.” you suggested. “He always nags at you for refusing him. It’ll make him happy and maybe your intermittent breakups would stop as well!”

“I don’t want to”

“You do want to. It’s me who’s been holding you back till now. You just don’t want to leave my grown up ass alone.”

“No! I’ve been refusing him cause I’ll chose you over that asshole any day.” she said while rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. You both were closer than sisters. She even spent some of her vacations in the campus just so you won’t feel like a loner. She was the closest to the family you could have at this point. And no, you were not ready to let her go.

“When are you moving out?” her sniffling was now replaced with soft breathing.

“Maybe next week” you lied again.

“Are you happy?”

“Leaving you? No. I could never be. But it has to be done.”

“I hope your roommate knows how to cook. Otherwise you’ll die from takeouts. And let’s spend the week together. We’ll go shopping for new skirts. You won’t be wearing any trousers this time!” she proposed, trying to smile again.

“We are still in the same uni and you’ll find me here all the time. The internship demands weekend working hours anyway so it’s manageable.” you reasoned as an attempt to satisfy the budding questions in her mind.

“But it won’t be same”

Nothing would be same from now on! you thought.

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

Saturday morning

The dreadful day came sooner than you desired. Sprawled on your bed, you looked around the small room, which has been your residence from the day you left the orphanage and that you still planned on inhabiting until the end of next year if nothing has changed but now it was better to dust it off and move on.

What were you even supposed to call it! Wedding day? Or effective date? You weren’t even sure of it being a contract or an arrangement! Maybe contract to keep your mouth shut! But it also requires a free consent that was hard to find in your current position. A legal agreement binding you with taeyong’s will or an arrangement! Arrangement to make your life easy while being driven away from the one you were somewhat content with!

You could make any assertion to console yourself.

You were alone this morning for chelin has gone to jay’s apartment. You were somewhat glad that she was gone. Moving out in her absence would be good otherwise she won’t let you go out alone with all your stuff and you weren’t ready to explain her anything yet. As per her knowledge, you were leaving next week. your all braincells were spent while satisfying her that packing a week before was just out of convenience and nothing else.

You got up from the bed to shower your worries away. Following a forty minutes of comforting bath, you opened the small closet to choose something from the clothes you were yet to pack. As if on cue, your phone made a very familiar sound.

Ping. The fine tune was now set for a very fine person.

Little shit: I can’t wait to meet you noonaaa! Please wear something white!

White! You gave your closet and packed boxes a once over. There was plenty of white but nothing white! There was a white dress –with cherry blossoms on it. Then there was skirt, with black stripes. The only thing you had in crisp white was 3 pairs of shorts and sneakers.

And you were definitely going to wear those. After all, jaemin did say something white! It’s not daily that you get to have fun with interpretation.

After contemplating for 5 minutes straight, you chose the red bell sleeved round neck crop top to wear with your white high waist denim shorts. from nowhwere were you looking like someone about to get married! But like your everyday chant- who cares!

You were brushing your hair when a sound from the phone distracted you from flattering yourself.

Johnny: are you ready?

As decided earlier, Johnny was going to pick you and your stuff from the dorm. He was more cordial than doyoung, parking the car just near the dorms.

You: yes, I am.

Johnny: good. Let me in.

And you did. But instead of one, there were two of them. You looked curiously at the shorter men who was glancing you up and down.

“He’s ten. And ten this is y/n.” the said guy waved, giving a sweet smile.

“Hi!”

“So how many boxes do you have?” Johnny asked looking around the tiny space.

“7 in total.” you started explaining. “Two boxes of shoes and clothes each. And other one for the accessories and random stuff. One medium sized luggage of my books. I have yet to pack some clothes from the closet and my desk space needs to be cleaned up as well. So I think it’ll take about 30 minutes to do everything.” you finished.

“Only 2 boxes of clothes?” ten asked, a look of judgement all over his face.

“Yup. I’ll take winter clothes afterwards. My roommate is going to keep them so I’ll collect them later and 3 boxes! I’ve yet to fill one.”

“Aah ok. Let’s do it then.” that being said you showed Johnny the side of the little hallway where you had placed your plastic boxes.

“Johnny, please be careful. The boxes are all rented and keeping upside down would ruin the shoe package. Just a li-“ you stopped midway when Johnny started giggling at your distressed tone.

“Don’t worry. Just pack the other stuff.”

You nodded and started with the packing. The closet was clear of your belongings. The only place left was your desk. You crowded your backpack with laptop, chargers and other stationaries that you kept out as an act to cover from chelin.

Johnny and ten made several trips up and down and finally after about forty minutes, you were finally done.

“Shall we go?” ten asked you. You didn’t reply instead choosing to walk outside silently.

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

You reached the destination in about 40 minutes. The area had a different ambiance than the city side. It was not secluded but wasn’t crowded either. The house looked more like a closed off architectural 2 storey building, giving a “enter with caution” feels.

You only took your phone with you as you were going to the new place in few hours anyway.

As you entered, déjà vu took over your senses. The couch in the hallway was jam-packed just like the last time. And if it was not enough, you saw few younger boys coming down the stairs from other side of the hallway. And one of them was too hard to miss.

“Noonaaa” jaemin ran down the remaining stairs coming to stand in front of you. He gave you an electric smile, your own lips curving upwards.

“I told you to wear white!? He whined at your choice of clothing.

You visibly rolled your eyes at him. “And this is white! The shorts and shoes are crisp white. What else do you want?” as much as you wanted to be polite but your nature didn’t allow you to take offense.

“Ok ok fine. I only saw red. This’ll also do. You look good.” he stated, eyeing your sleeves.

“Come inside.” he took your hand, swiftly moving you towards the centre of hall. Once he left your hand, you bowed a little in greeting, hoping you won’t have to do that again and again.

Johnny had told you the other day that few of them were older than you including him, yuta and taeyong. So you had to greet them with respect. you were a women with manners!

“No need for formality y/n. just sit down.” taeyong also descended from the same stairs. You sat at the only unoccupied chair in the room whereas taeyong sat on the arm of the bigger sofa.

“You got everything?” you nodded at his question.

“Ok then. Yuta is arriving in few minutes. Until then if you want, you can go explore the house.”

You shook your head at him. You were sure everyone could tell how apprehensive you were being. A roomful of boys was staring at you like hawks. It was confirmed to you by now that you were only girl in this house. You were fiddling with hands, crossing and uncrossing your legs to make yourself more comfortable but your fidgeting only made others awkward as well.

“Stop making her nervous!” Kun’s voice reached your ears before you could see him. It looked like he came from outside. At the lack of seat, he made a beeline for the space you were filling , sitting at the arm of your sofa. Maybe it’s a habit, you thought.

“I knew you were coming, so I made a special meal for you. Jaemin helped a lot though.” at your mere bob as an answer, kun realised that he couldn’t do anything to make you feel any better. the immensity of the setting was far more on your conscious than others.

“noona , this is jisung and chenle, you didn’t meet them right!” you saw two boys whom jaemin was dragging to stand in front of you. they looked quite younger than the other ones. their charming smiles directed at you finally turned your stoic expression to mirror theirs.

your little interaction was interrupted by light footsteps on the marble floor.

“Were you all waiting for me?” yuta’s voice resonated in the silent room. “why couldn’t you complete this mission in my absence taeyong. It’s not like you don’t have substitute!” he sneered at his leader, looking around to find a seat.

jungwoo got up from his seat, motioning yuta to sit.

“I have to be somewhere else, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get it over with!” yuta offered. taeyong nodded at him, directing doyoung to get something from inside.

doyoung went away and came back with a bundle of files. he opened a file and placed it in front of you.

“you can read it first. i completed the registration forms, your bio data is filled. just check for any misinformation. there was no poof of your permanent residential address so jaehyun got exception for you because you are a student. but you both might need to visit district office as they won’t grant exemption from appearance.” doyoung pointed everything and explained it to you.

the papers were legitimate, you bio data including your identity number, parents name , everything was correct. the only astonishing thing was the name of your legal representative. you thought I’d be doyoung but you were wrong.

through counsel,

jeong jaehyun.

your fingers lingered on his name. it was not possible as johnny told you he was just about same age as you. you looked at doyoung with a raised brow.

“jae was chosen by our own company so he started working under taeyong immediately after graduation” doyoung mumbled and you snorted at his statement. obviously , he had it easy!

“where do I have to sign?” you asked in a small voice.

and you scribbled right where he marked.

he passed the papers to yuta.

with a frown on his face, yuta also did the same. throwing the papers in doyoung’s face, he rose up from his seat, turning towards the door.

“wait yuta” taeyong’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“what do you want now. do I have to kiss her?” his questioned carried a mocking tone, making you straighten your back. you were just as disgusted at the thought as was him. but you were not throwing tantrums like him.

“the rings. you have to make it believable right” taeyong extracted a velvet rectangular box from his pocket, placing it on the table. he signalled you to open it.

you reached out for the purple box. inside it were two platinum bands with a single diamond shining right in the centre. they were beautiful but meaningless.

“your hand yuta. why do I have to tell you everything?” yuta scoffed at him and snatched the box from your hand, pulling your arm in the way.

he took out both bands, tossing the box in taeyong’s lap. he wore the one meant for him, in his left finger and grabbed your hand to put the ring on. you flinched a little at the force but he didn’t seem to give a shit about you felt.

“oh the ring is loose.”he commented at the band being not of your size. you jerked away your hand to remove the ring, instead placing it in your forefinger.

“you are not supposed to have what isn’t yours baby!” he remarked slyly before modelling his way out. his mouth was acidic, that you were sure by now.

“CONGRATULATIONS ON THE WEDDING MRS. NAKAMOTO!”

and yuta’s words kept ringing even when he was gone. mechanically, your hands were balled into fists, anger rising. you were not feeling bitter at his words for didn’t expect anything better from him. but he shouldn’t have attacked your dignity in front of strangers.

only five minutes had passed and you were already encumbered with the weight of the ornament!

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

where do you think this is going?? do you like it so far? please lemme know if you get time to leave some feedback!

and welcome all the new readers! i hope you are enjoying this!

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #ncct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct mafia #nct arrange marriage #yuta mafia #yuta arrange marriage #killing me yuta #yuta #yuta angst #yuta series #nct series

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Control the Noise {General One Shot}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 1807 Summary: You’re a songwriter with quite a bit of acclaim but you tend to hide behind a pseudonym to keep your private life private. But it doesn’t stay that way for long.

In your rather spacious apartment, you played the piano softly. The Grammies were being premiered tonight on the television, but you weren’t paying attention just yet. The cameras were all focused on the glamorous people that were walking down the red carpet. Beautiful gowns in every color, suits with different color ties. A few of the men chose to wear something that wasn’t just a simple black suit, and people applauded them for it. But you didn’t care for the politics of the music industry. You were in it for the music itself. The lyrics. The chance to have someone with an amazing talent showcase the words that you wrote.

You were feeling inspired tonight. Your fingers glided across the piano, coming up with a melody - and the words were just popping into your head. You stopped playing and reached for the pen that you kept cocked behind your ear, and the notebook that you kept in place of the sheet music. You wrote down a couple of words, then continued on. It was that constant back and forth which took up a large part of your day today.

“Welcome to the Grammies!” The host of the night said, their voice coming from the television. You pressed your last couple of notes, then looked over your shoulder to where bright and smiling faces were looking down upon you. The host was someone that you had written for, actually. One of his major hits only two years before, but you have both since moved on. You had written three of the songs that were up tonight, which was the only reason that you were watching this. You’d be receiving a phone call at the end either way, but you might as well see how people responded to your music.

You were not the type for the famous life. The musicians that you worked with, save for a special few who had become friends, were given an alias. You wanted your personal life separate from your professional. Your neighbors just thought that you played music for fun, and knew nothing about your career. All in all - life was actually perfect this way. You got the money without the cameras.

It all seemed to go off without a hitch. You had a glass of wine, and some food delivered, so you could enjoy it all from the comfort of your couch. Your manager was texting you every once in a while, asking if you were watching, your opinion on some of the other songs, and some gossip on the big music couples that were there that night. You joined in - it was a little fun to gossip.

The night was going swimmingly. One of your songs had just won an award. You were up on your feet and dancing around, excited at the bit of a pay bonus that you were going to be getting from this. And the fact that the song would sell more now, and you’d be getting a little bit more of a percentage. It was nice to have your work recognized, even if only a small handful of people knew that it was someone else who had written the song.

The beautiful singer went up to the stage, among all of the applause. There, she was given the award. You were down on your knees in front of the television, all sparkling eyes and happiness. You had both put a lot of work into this, and she definitely deserved the fame and attention. The song had been written with her voice in mind. With her background in mind. You were especially proud of it.

“It’s an honor to be nominated alongside so many incredible female artists this year,” The beautiful young woman said into the microphone. “I guess this year we really stepped up. I have my mom to thank, my best friends obviously, y/f/n y/l/n for writing this amazing song, and the rest of the team....”

You fell back onto the carpet beneath your feet. Your name was the last thing that you had expected to come out of her lips. It was the last thing that you had wanted too. Your real name had been told to her in confidence. And here she was just spreading it out there.

You could just barely hear your phone ringing from behind you. You reached for it, without removing your eyes from the television. Nobody on the screen seemed to realize that anything had been wrong. People were still cheering, and the singer walked off of the stage after her speech. You raised the phone to your ear to hear your manager in an uproar.

“No - you tell them that this is unacceptable!” He was shouting at someone, that wasn’t you. “Y/N? Hey, just saw what happened - hold on - No, you tell her that we’re never working with her again! They broke the confidentiality agreement! Y/N, you still there?”

“Unfortunately,” You said, holding the phone a foot away from your ear. You could hear him sigh. He sounded as stressed as you felt. “What was she thinking?”

“She wasn’t. That’s the damn problem. All of that fame goes to their heads and they forget about the business side of things! Goddamnit - why do these award shows have to be live when so much can go wrong.”

“So what do we do?” You asked, turning off the television. You didn’t care about who won what anymore - you were just exposed for the world to know. No doubt your neighbors were watching. It was the biggest thing that was happening tonight, and plenty of people were going to see it. Oh God, even your friends who didn’t fully know what you did were going to find out.

“I’m going to call in a publicist, see what we can do. Don’t worry, it won’t be on your dime. The diva can take care of it,” He grumbled. “Just hold on tight and we’ll figure this all out.”

It had been three days. You didn’t leave your apartment. There had been a lot of phone calls but you only answered the ones from your manager. It was too late - the world knew that you were behind some of the biggest hits of the last couple of years. Your real identity had been discovered. It was unravelling. This was why you never went public, because of this sense of having no control.

You had to leave the house eventually though. You had to go out and get groceries. You psyched yourself up, picking a rather dull outfit from your closet so you wouldn’t get much attention. Even Lady Gaga sometimes gets her own groceries. Brad Pitt has been seen doing it. Besides, it’s not as if a lot of people would connect your name with your face, unless you had to show some identification. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

You kept a hat low over your eyes nonetheless as you went through the aisles of the supermarket, picking out the things that you would need for the next two weeks. It seemed to be going well, no one was looking twice at you. It was when you went up to the check-out that things started to go awry.

Right on the cover of the tabloid magazines which were always surrounding the check-out counters, was your face. And your name. ‘Star Songwriter’s Identity Revealed!’ The picture wasn’t the most flattering one either. It was taken off of your personal instagram account, which as private. You maybe had fifty followers on there, all people that you know, but somehow, one of those pictures had gotten leaked.

While trying not to bring any attention to yourself, you picked up the magazine like you were inspecting it. Then you set it down, facing the wrong way. Instead of your own face, what you saw now was an advertisement on the back. Then you did so with the rest of them, making sure that each one was turned around. Some poor salesperson would have to fix them but it was horrifying nonetheless.

You got out of there as soon as possible, moving from using the check-out counter with a smiling person behind it, to the self-check out. At least there you didn’t have to talk to people. And you could get out with your head bowed and no one looked at you twice.

Once you were back in the safety of your car, just one of the many in the parking lot, you called your manager again. He had been getting a lot of calls from you lately. Most of the time he wasn’t picking up because he was too busy trying to fix this problem. You caught him at a spare moment though.

“There’s no use,” You sighed into it. “My picture is on the cover of the magazines. Like I’m Madonna or something.”

“Oh honey, Madonna is never on the covers anymore. You’re like Taylor Swift now,” Your manager said. This did make you smile a small bit but it was still unfortunate. “But I hate to say that you’re right. You’re trending all over right now. You made it big - so now it’s up to you what you do with it.”

“I guess I should get a publicist,” You groaned. You liked it when it was just you and your manager, who was the one who worked with the record labels to get your song out there. It wasn’t the size of your entourage, it was the quality. And after so long of it being just the two of you, you were reluctant to bring another person onto the team.

“Leave that to me,” Your manager grunted. “At least then I’m still good for something.”

“None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t get close to the artists, I know, it’s mine,” You let out a long sigh. “I guess I have some thinking to do.”

“Maybe you’ll find some inspiration and come out with some new songs, eh?” Your manager said, flipping the conversation to work, as they always managed to do. “Your last few were absolute hits. And now that your name is going out there, people are going to be looking for it. Lots of offers already. Just think about it.”

“Okay. Thanks - for everything.” You hung up your phone and checked yourself out in the rearview mirror, slapping your cheeks to get rid of that blood-drained look that seeing yourself in the magazines had given you. At least your manager was right about one thing.

Inspiration really was running through you now.

#Oneshot #one shot #general oneshot #nonship #requested

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

Text

Light My Fire - CH05

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Angst, tension, sexual frustrations, NSFW

WC: 3861

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

Y/N wakes up late the next day. It’s probably because she tossed and turned in her bed for quite a long time. She couldn’t sleep, her mind constantly on Dean, thinking of that damn fucking kiss and his gestures of affection. Even though it was the last thing she wanted to think about. After about two hours of lying awake, she decided to do something about her sexual frustrations.

Of course she had thought about going over to his room but that would mean that she might have to cross a line she doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be crossing. Although she’d think that Dean probably wouldn’t mind? She just doesn’t know? He’s so hard to read. Either that or she’s too oblivious to notice these kinds of things.

So, she lay there in the dark rubbing herself, and however much she wanted to come, it didn’t work, and that frustrated her even more. She thinks she fell asleep angrily, if that’s even possible.

She stretches in bed, pulls the cover over her head again and tries to fall asleep one more time. There’s still that stupid tingling sensation between her thighs and it gets more unbearable the longer she’s awake. That’s just fucking great.

When it becomes too unbearable to stay in bed much longer, she gets up and reaches to the night stand for her phone. As soon as the lock screen lights up, she sees a text from Jack.

J: [picture]

She thumbs the message open to look at the picture, it’s one of her and Dean from last night. They really do look like a happy couple.

J: Do you wanna tell me what’s that all about? When did you get married and why didn’t you tell me?

Oh, no. She totally forgot about the pictures that hit the internet this morning. Well, she thought about it but it’s not like Dean’s an A-list celebrity so she never really thought that Jack’s going to find out about it. Apparently, the joke’s on her.

Y/N: I’ll explain everything to you soon, alright? Just trust me.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, she needs coffee in her system first if Jack should answer, but knowing him, he probably won’t. He’ll give her the silent treatment for at least two days. She walks out into the living area in only her sleep shirt because she’s getting bolder around here, and also mainly because she knows that Dean’s already out at work anyway.

Today, she thinks that she’s going to need to hit the gym. Needs to somehow get her frustrations out, and then she’ll let the massage comforter knead the tension out of her. Maybe then she’ll be able to sleep again. She might take an afternoon nap after, for good measure.

Walking into the kitchen, the familiar smell of cologne and coffee greets her and there’s another sticky note on the coffee machine.

I hope you slept well. Thank you for coming along last night. I meant it when I said that I had fun. Don’t overthink the thing with Amara, okay? I want you to relax today. I’ll see you this evening. — D

She shouldn’t be smiling. Why is she smiling?

Ugh, Dean.

Ugh.

Yeah, she definitely needs to hit the gym.

When she’s changed into her gym gear, her phone pings with a message.

G: You need anything? What are you up to? Gabe

She frowns a little. Gabe? Why is he texting her? She doesn’t have time to think so she quickly types in a reply.

Y/N: No, thank you. About to hit the gym now.

Crouching down, she ties her shoes and searches for her headphones. It takes her an awfully long time to find them, as she couldn’t for the love of her remember where she put it. By the time she finds it, she’s already sweating bullets.

She runs to the front door and when she opens it, she bumps right into Gabe. Something falls out of his hand from the impact and drops onto the floor. Her eyes go from Gabe to the thing.

“Oh, I thought you were out, sorry.” He gets back on his feet, quickly picks up the package from the floor and hides it behind his back.

If he thinks that she didn’t see it, he better think again. Because it’s a fairly large packet of condoms (fucking condoms!) and she couldn’t have missed that if she tried.

“Who are they for?” She asks, and feels something squeezing at her heart. Something that makes her chest hurt.

“For me,” Gabe answers quickly.

Y/N stares him down, raises her eyebrow. She could ask him if they were for him, what he’s doing with them here. Or why he comes in when he thinks that she’s out. She could voice all of her thoughts but instead, she gave him a silent glare, and crossed her arms over her chest.

Gabe sighs and rolls his eyes before he speaks, “Fine, the boss said to come in when you’re out and drop it in his room.”

So it is for Dean! Just like she thought it would be.

“You can take it back,”

“But—”

“He doesn’t need them.” She hisses, and cuts Gabe’s sentence short.

“Fine. Okay, but you are going to explain to him why I couldn’t drop them off.”

“Gabe, just go.” She does her best to stay calm but on the inside, she’s raging.

She watches Gabe lower his head and retreat. After she’s sure that Gabe’s gone, she sends Dean a text because she doesn’t know his schedule and doesn’t want to interrupt one of his meetings. Plus, it’s easier to do it by text because right now, she doesn’t even want to talk to him at all.

Y/N: CONDOMS! Condoms, Dean? Really? We had a fucking deal. I’m out!

Gym is cancelled. She needs to get out of here fast and storms back into the apartment and hurries to her room. She takes out her suitcases and starts to pack. Her phone chimes a couple of times but she ignores it.

One full suitcase later, she hears him.

Fuck!

She was kind of hoping that he’d be in a meeting and couldn’t get out of it. Or maybe, in hindsight, she should have sent the text after she left but she was too fucking mad to think straight.

The front door slams so loud, it makes her jump, and his dress shoes click away on the marble flooring. They come closer and there’s nowhere for her to hide but in this room.

“Y/N!” There’s a knock, “Open up!”

“No!”

“Jesus, you know that I could just kick the door in, right? So open up now or I will.”

Ugh. Would Dean really kick the door in just to talk with her? She decides not to test that theory. Besides, what could go wrong, right? She’s still mad and running away from problems won’t make it go away. She’d tried that one, but it didn't work.

She walks to the door and opens up to a distressed Dean. His tie’s a little loose, his hair ruffled up and he’s sweating. She can see the little droplets by his hairline.

“What the fuck happend?” He growls at her, it’s low and deep and it should maybe scare her but she’s unfazed. Had seen him like this more time than she can count.

“You ask me what happened? Gabe brought you a pack of condoms, Dean! That’s what happened! Condoms! A fucking big pack, too!”

Y/N throws her hands in the air, her throat makes a frustrating sound. And then she tries to breath to calm herself while Dean’s still staring at her, one fucking eyebrow raised.

She ignores him and goes on, “Fucking condoms! When we both agreed that we’ll stay abstinent and won’t flirt or fuck anyone else in the six months so as to not jeopardize this whole fucking fake marriage!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean breathes out, threads his hand through his hair, “That’s what you’re upset about?”

He talks like it’s no fucking big deal! It makes her even more mad.

“Of course I’m fucking upset! I’m pissed!” She spits out her words, “You let him bring you condoms so you can fuck around? How’s that fucking fair to me? All eyes are on me, Dean! If I slip, I’ll take you down with me, but if you sleep around, that’s o-fucking-kay? You’re a fucking hypocrite!” She notices that he steps in some more but there’s room by the door so storms past him, knows that one of her books is still in the living room and she wants to grab that now because she can’t stand there and look at him one minute longer.

“Y/N, calm down, let me explain,” He talks in a calmer voice, and follows her. Damn his fucking long legs because he catches up to her and grabs her arm, makes her turn and crowds her against the wall, one hand placed right next to her head and one hand on her hips, holding her there, “Please.”

He wants to explain? Yeah, sure. She’s looking up at him, challenges him, a frown etched deep in her face, “Explain? What is there to fucking expla—”

She can’t finish her sentence because Dean attacks her mouth and kisses her roughly to shut her up. And why is she giving in? She shouldn’t be giving in but fuck, if his kisses doesn’t make her weak in the knees.

He leaves his forehead on hers when he parts, pecks her lips once more when he sees that all the fight has left her body. Dean sighs before he talks, his voice is deep, gravelly, “Goddamnit, Y/N, the condoms were for us, alright?”

What?

“For us?” She frowns and Dean chuckles, his breath hot against her face. Coffee and chewing gum. He’s a notorious gum chewer. It sometimes drives her nuts because she has to make sure that there is gum everywhere in the office should he need one.

“Yeah, I was to make you a proposition. If we’re not allowed to date and see other people, I was gonna ask you if you’d be game if we—” He points his index finger between the two of them, “—you know, enjoy each other. No strings attached other than the fake marriage,”

“You want me?” She doesn’t believe him and he knows that she doesn’t. His mouth seals around hers again. It’s a little rougher, harder, his hot tongue sliding against hers, both of his hands are on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. Before it can get too hot, he breaks it off and she whimpers against his mouth, making him chuckle.

“You just don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“My god, Y/N! You turn me on so fucking much, you have no fucking idea.” His face changes. His eyes are a little darker, his voice a little deeper, “The first night with you? I was so hard I jerked myself off in the showers.”

Her mouth opens to form an ‘o’, “‘S that why you didn’t wanna get into the tub with me?”

He lets out a breath, “Yeah, I didn’t think I could have hidden my boner and it was for your own safety because I might have just attacked you.”

She grins.

Dean chuckles nervously, it’s rare that he’s nervous, “And last night? Last night was super hard because I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I thought about you and how you tasted. How you’re just laying in the next room. I had to take another long shower, thought of you when I did it.”

Y/N has to chuckle at the image and it makes her light headed. He thought of her?

“So,” Dean says, pecks her lips again, “What do you say? You game? While you’re here we could have some fun?”

Y/N lets his words sink in.

While she’s here they could have some fun. Yeah, they could. She’s clearly attracted to him, and he might be to her either. They’re adults, right? Sex works without feelings, you don’t have to love someone to have great sex, right?

She stands on her tiptoes, hooks her arms around his necks and looks at him. He has a frown on his face, and he looks at her expectantly.

And when she nods, Dean smiles, crashes his mouth on hers, kisses her wantonly, teeth biting down on her bottom lips, making her yelp up into his mouth.

Dean pins her to the wall, presses his body closer, his hand goes from her hips to behind her back to knead at her ass and she arches her back, giving him better access. She can feel that he’s hard right now.

“Jesus, fuck—,” Dean pants, “I’m so hard I could pound nails.” He thrusts his hips, and it gives her just the right friction.

Y/N giggles against his lips and Dean shuts her up with a bruising kiss. His hands go back to her hips, turns her around roughly and she braces her hand on the walls to soften the impact. His mouth kisses her cheeks, goes down her jawline and nibbles at her throat and she arches her back, drives her ass into his bulge while his fingers dig into the seam of her yoga pants at her ass, tearing the fabric in two.

“Dean!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” His lips suck at her pulse point, tongue wet and hot on her skin, tears some more so that her pants are hanging down her legs, only now held together by the elastic band around her waist.

His long fingers move her string aside, strokes along the crack of her ass to the front, groans when he feels that she’s soaked there.

“Fuck,” She curses and arches her back some more. It feels so good to have someone else touching her there other than herself.

Dean groans when he feels that she’s soaked, and he whispers into her neck, “Can— can I fuck you? I don’t think I can sit through a meeting knowing that you’re going to be here. All ready and fucking wet for me.”

God, his words turn her on so much.

“Ye-ah,” Her breathing hitches, because he slips in a finger and he groans out some more at that.

Dean sucks in her skin on her neck, lets it go with a huff of breath and a grin and pulls his finger out. He has to chuckle when he hears her whimper at the loss. He takes a step further away and she hears the metal of his belt buckle. She stays pinned there, doesn’t dare to move but she wriggles her ass and it might make her look needy, which she really is.

She hears a hiss when Dean frees his cock, can hear him spit into his hands and he’s probably working his own dick and god, she wants to see.

“Look at you, fuck—” He comes closer, his hand squeezing her ass, fingers spanning wide. He spanks down on them too, making her yelp up and then he threads his fingers through her folds ones more before she hears shuffling behind her, and there’s his fucking tongue at her center, his nose buried deep into the crack of her ass.

“Oh fuck,” She lets out a huff of breath and lowers her forehead to the cold wall. And she can’t help it, she has to arch her back, pushing her ass into Dean’s face and he hums, while his tongue twirls around her entrance. She hears the wet sound of Dean working his own dick while he licks into her.

“You taste so fucking good,” He mumbles, licks another broad stripe, slurps up her juice and she keens above him.

After a while he comes up again, kisses from her shoulder up her neck, his mouth is wet. His hard cock rests between her ass cheeks and he thrust his hips, can’t not stay still, cursing under his breath, “Fuck, I don’t have any condoms because you sent Gabe away.”

“Don’t care,” She manages to say and she’s fucking needy, she doesn’t care anymore because she feels his heavy and hard dick between her cheeks and she wants it inside.

“You sure?”

“Fuck me already,” She drives her ass back, wriggles with it and Dean has to chuckle.

He takes his dick into his hand, threads the tip through her slick and rests it at the entrance of her cunt. Dean lowers his head to her throat, sucks on a patch of skin before he pushes in.

“Oh shit,” She moans out, throws her head back a little and Dean drives his teeth into her throat at the feeling and holds her skin between his teeth as he dives in further.

Dean goes in agonizing slow, but she needs that, needs time to adjust and to accommodate his girth. He's big, at least bigger than the dicks she had, which aren’t really many, but that’s not the point. He works his way inside and she stretches around him, helps him by moving her hips to make it easier. Dean groans out when he’s sheathed all the way inside.

“God you’re so deep,” She grits her teeth.

Dean’s panting hard and he kisses a way up her throat until he kisses the sensitive skin below her ear, he doesn’t move just yet. “You okay?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” She says, has to take another deep breath, “Yeah. Are you?”

“‘M trying not to come. You feel so good, fuck—” He hisses and then he composes himself, “When was the last time you done this?” His hip starts to move slowly, fucking up into her as deep as he can go and moves out far enough to just leave the tip in, only to repeat his movements. His hands are all over her, up below her shirt to knead at her tits through her sport bra, on her hips, around her waist, on her ass as he spanks her twice and spreads her wide to watch his dick going in and out of her cunt.

“God, I don’t know, maybe six months ago? Why?” She doesn’t really understand why they’re talking about this. She can’t really concentrate with his dick making her feel so fucking good.

“It feels like you’ve never done this before, you’re so goddamn tight, Jesus! Tightest little pussy,” His hands fists in her hair, yanks her head back so he can whisper into her ear, “You like my cock, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” She manages to say, his other hand is on her throat.

“Uh-huh?” Dean whispers, “Look at you taking my dick like a good girl,”

Fuck, he’s talks so dirty and it turns her on so much. She’s grinning, enjoys the feel of him pounding into her. Dean moves faster now, fucks the laugh right off her face.

After a while he lets go of her hair, pushes her against the wall once more and his mouth is always on her, nibbling, kissing and sucking the skin of her cheek, throat, the back of her neck. He fucks her deep, hard, she’s going to be sore, she just knows it. But it’s good. So fucking good because his cock curves at the tip, it rubs at her spot on the inside and she’s so fucking close.

“Dean, I’m— I—” Shit, she can’t even say anything coherent. Her nails dig into the wall.

“Come for me, baby,” He nibbles down her jaw, sucks at her pulse point once more, one of his hands sneaks around the front, rubs along her clit.

Baby.

That does it.

She shakes around him and her pussy squeezes and pushes at his dick so hard it slips right out, but Dean grabs it and pushes it right back in to fuck her through her orgasm.

“Good girl,” Dean pants, his thrust starts to falter right after, “Baby, where do you want me to come?”

“Come in me,” She whispers, “I want you to come deep in me,”

“Jesus fuck,” He bites down her shoulder and holds his breath as he buries himself balls deep inside of her. He’s trembling, his hips jerk.

He breathes through his nose, his mouth still on skin, and he shudders. Dean sucks at the skin that bears his bite mark, soothes it with his warm tongue. “Jesus, I couldn’t even warn you. You saying things like that made me explode.”

She chuckles, her hand goes up to cup at his cheek, she can feel the prickle of his scruff.

“Shit,” Dean lowers his forehead to her shoulder, and she scratches at the short hair on the back of his head, “I have to go back to the meeting I kinda left in a hurry.”

“You left a meeting?” She frowns, “An important one?”

“Kinda? Donatello was about to present me with the numbers of the west coast. I gave them a thirty minutes break,” He chuckles, “I ran here. Couldn’t risk you leaving.”

“Jesus Christ, Dean, go back, now!”

“I am,” He growls and pulls himself upright. It also means that he’s slipping out of her and she squirms at the empty feeling, hates it already.

Dean’s cum drips to the floor and she turns around, still leaning against the wall because she doesn’t know if her legs will be able to hold her up. There’s cum splatters between them and she can see that while Dean tucks himself in, he’s looking on the floor, hesitant about cleaning it up and knowing that he’ll show up even later if he does it.

“Go! I got this!” She tells and Dean nods at her, zips up his pants. While he is securing his belt, she helps him right his tie.

“I’ll smell like sex.” Dean smirks.

“Just run back, then you’ll smell of sweat.”

He snorts out a laugh, “Right, we’re good?”

“Yeah,”

He raises his eyebrows as if he doesn’t believe her, “You’re not leaving?”

“Nu-uh,”

How can she? How is she supposed to leave now? Now that she knows that it was all for her?

Dean smiles, grabs her by the waist to pull her close, his fingers skim over the bite mark on her shoulder, “‘M sorry bout that,”

Y/N shakes her head, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

He smiles and leaves a last lingering kiss, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

She nods and watches him leave. Her pussy’s still pulsing and she feels hot and wet, Dean’s cum is running down her legs when she walks to the kitchen, leaving a trail behind.

Well, there goes her workout, instead she'll get on all fours and clean up the mess they made.

After she cleans up, she sits in the hallway, right at the very spot that Dean just fucked her and leans her head back and closes her eyes.

Oh my god, she just fucked her boss, or more like, he just fucked her! If that isn’t fucked up, she doesn’t know what is.

CH06

#light my fire #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #ceo!dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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