#Putting him in pigtails and having them used as handles while he’s face fucked or railed from behind

[zappedbyzabka]

Why was Billy’s hair so long and luscious in his Scott era if not to put it in pigtails or a ponytail?

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter III

-> sallyfacexf!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, violence

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) wakes up early to avoid sally. sally’s upset that he did something wrong yesterday. (y/n)’s first meeting with travis isn’t the nicest.

The incessant beeping of your alarm tugs you out of your dreamless sleep.

The sticky tears on the ground remind you of yesterday’s events, but you disregard them. All you want to do is take a shower, throw on your jacket and get out the door. You slowly clamber up off the ground and across the living room to turn off the alarm. After making sure it’s not on snooze, you drag your sore body to the shower. It smells like smoke and lots of cleaning supplies. This place is fucking gross. Is it even monday?’ you check the calendar. It is, in fact, monday. You strip and turn the shower handle.

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You're so glad that you chose to wake up early. Usually kids this far from school drive or get picked up by the bus, but you prefer to use your skateboard. That’s why you get up at 6:30, so you have enough time to get ready and get to school on time. Sanity’s fall quietly played as you washed your breakfast plate and cup, brushing grease residue off the greyish porcelain. You wonder if Sal is awake yet. Probably not. You know, waking up early ensures that you won't see him in the morning. The guy’s not that bad, his eyes just freak you out a little.

Pulling the pink glove off your prosthetic, you wipe your hands with a towel and move to the closet to put your shoes on.

“Jacket, jacket, jacket, jacket.” you mumble, eyebrows knitted. “Where are you?” oh, right, you left it in your room.. With poppy. Was that even her name? You kind of just decided it for her.

Alright, don't be a pussy. Just go in and grab the jacket. You sucked in a breath and opened the door to your room.

“Eeh! A teenager! What’s your name, little lady?” her blond ponytail bounced with every sentence. This was the first time you could get a good look at her. She didn't really have feet, just bloody stumps where they used to be.

“Holy fuck, you’re so loud!” your hands covered your ears.

“Ahh, so sorry! I haven't used my voice in years.” she coughs.

“S’ fine... Can I just- just grab my jacket?” you point at the green pile amidst the boxes all around the room. You didn't get a chance to set up.

“Go ahead!” she nods and smiles.

“Alright. uh, listen, lady. This-” you motion towards the whole room. “Is my room. I live here now. I get that you, like, can't leave this place and shit, but could you maybe sit quietly while i set up later? I really need to clean my room up. I’ll set up a little chair place for you or whatever, so you could sleep at night.” you mumble the last part, embarrassed about your hospitality.

“I can’t sleep.” she smiles, her teeth surprisingly shiny for a ghost’s. God, she’s so preppy that you forgot she’s dead.

“Pretend to then, i dont fucking know. Alright, i have to go. Just… don't cause trouble.” grabbing the jacket, you begin shutting the door. “My name’s (y/n), by the way.”

You can hear her squeals as you leave the apartment. You decide to take the elevator because you don't feel like running down the stairs with a heavy ass bag on your back.. Stepping in, you press the main floor button. It looks like there’s a bit of sticky stuff around it. gross. Syrup? You hoped so.

The elevator dings and you step out, heading out the front doors. It’s cloudy. Again. Not a surprise, really. Keeping your eyes on the gravel, you set down your skateboard and begin your journey to school.

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Sal’s point of view:

“She probably went on without us, man. Don’t know why you're worrying so much.'' Larry leaned back into the bus seat.

“It’s not that, Larry face. Yesterday, when we left…” was it my fault? Did i scare her? Did she see my face through the mask? Fuck.

“What is it? Spit it out, sally dude.” he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and puffed the smoke out the window.

“I think i scared her, larry. I think she saw my face.” i let out a shaky breath. God, everything was going good. Why the fuck does this stupid face ruin everything?

“Did you- did you take your mask off?” he sat up in the seat, eyes wide.

“No. She probably saw it through my mask.”

“I still dont get it. Explain more, dude.”

“She looked so scared. We made eye contact, and she, like, panicked. Her eyes widened and then she threw me out. It was definitely my eyes. We were fine the whole night, i dont know why she freaked out.”

Larry let out a long hum. He was probably trying to piece things together. Anyway, she definitely went to school earlier than us. I can ask her about it there.

“Woah, sally face. Calm down or you’ll go bald.” larry’s hands pulled mine off my pigtails. Huh, i didnt even notice.

“Thanks, dude. I think we’re here.”

Your point of view:

It was around eight o’clock by the time you arrived. Kids were already piling out of buses and cars, standing by the school’s entrance and conversing with their friends. You definitely felt some eyes on you. That was expected, though. They didnt recognize you, and nockfell didnt seem like a town with many new people. Thinking back to yesterday, sal and larry mentioned some bully kid. Probably wouldnt be hard to spot him.

“Watch it, goth freak!” a pair of hands gripped onto your shoulders.

Ah, what a coincidence.

“Get the fuck off me, fucking prick.” he twitched as you gripped onto his hands and pushed him away.

“Is that a metal hand? Ha, you’re a fucking cripple! How pathetic.” he chuckled. Blond hair draped itself across his forehead, definitely not complimenting the purple shade of his shirt and eye. School fight? or daddy issues? Who knows. I mean, you’re not one to speak, your dad’s literally dead.

“Let me guess, you’re that bully fucker they talked about. God, isnt there enough troubled kids in Nockfell?” you rolled your eyes, just wanting to get to school.

When you said you had bad luck, you really meant it, because all of a sudden, his fist landed on your face.

Are you fucking serious?

You just moved here yesterday and you’ve already been fucked up twice. You can’t keep taking hits, (y/n)! You gotta dish some out!

Sighing in disbelief, you reached out to your gushing nose.

“Mother.” you flicked the blood off your prosthetic hand. “Fucker.”

At this, travis bolts. You drop your bag and get back on your skateboard, weaving through the crowd to get to that shrimpy little fuck.

“I’m so fucking done with nockfell.” blood trails down the side of your face as you lock your eyes on the blond mop of hair in front of you.

Do you jump? Or let him get away?

Nah, you jump.

The skateboard shoots out beneath you as you kick off. He lets out a strangled cry as you land on his back and send him to the concrete. A few whoops can be heard from the kids far behind you.

“Fuck, i’m sorry! Get off me!” he scrambles beneath you.

“Now you’re fucking sorry?”

He doesnt say anything. You slowly climb off, keeping a hand on his neck.

“Pussy.” a snicker escapes you.

“What’d you just-” the hand on his neck squeezes tighter and shuts him up.

“What’s your name again?”

“Tr-travis, fuck.”

“Travis, huh? Well, travis-”

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on Travis?”

Sal’s point of view:

Me and larry were getting off the bus when we heard a bunch of cheering. Weird. I looked in the direction larry was staring. Hold on, that’s travis and some other kid on top of him.

“Sally face! I think that’s fucking (Y/n)! Holy shit!” larry shakes my shoulder. That’s actually her! What is she doing on travis?

“Larry, c’mon, we have to go get her off!” i try pulling him away, but he doesnt budge.

“No way, man! I wanna see her beat him up! She’s doing what you won’t let me do!” he smiles wide. Fuck, i guess i’ll just have to go alone. Larry frowns as i drop my bag and begin running towards them. I’m not letting her get in trouble on the first day. I hear her say something to him as i come closer.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing on travis?”

She looks up in surprise. Holy shit, she’s bleeding!

“I’ve gotten fucked up twice in the past 24 hours. I’m not letting this fuck get away with it.” She snarls. As bad as i feel, she’s kind of attractive, bloody and feral like that. God, what the fuck? Not time for this, sal.

“Oh my god, (y/n)! Here, uh, get up and i’ll take you to the office.”

Your point of view:

You look back at travis. There’s a visible blush on his face, and he’s staring straight at sally.

Oh.

OH.

A smirk forms on your face.

“No thanks, porcelain face. Me and blondie here will go by ourselves. Right?”

He growls, but you tighten your grip on his neck again and he nods.

“Uh, okay. Do you want me to take your skateboard or something?” Sal scratches his head and changes the topic. Just a sliver of jealousy can be found in him, but he is grateful for the nickname. It suits him.

Your expression darkens for a second, all of a sudden feeling possessive of your skateboard. He’s not touching it. It was your dad’s.

“No. Take my bag or something.” you nod towards it by the entrance of the school, where it sits. He obeys and gets up to pick up your bag. You pull travis up with you, blood dripping down your shirt and an arm around his shoulders. Sal’s quite a bit away at this point.

“You gay?” you hum. Travis’s back straightens and fear flashes through his eyes. How did you know? How the fuck did you know?

“No! Fuck you, you’re just a pussy who thinks she knows everything-” he starts yelling, trying to get away, but you interrupt him.

“God, shut up. You’re making my head hurt more. It’s okay, you know. I wont fucking tell anyone about your little self exploration journey.” you pat him on the back and he flushes.

“Fuck, you’re so sappy it’s disgusting.”

“I’m not gonna be a dick to someone because of their sexuality, fuckass. I’m not that low. Let’s get to the school.”

taglist: @dream-of-eros @potatochic2003 @mr-bombastic @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney

[creepytoes88]

WARNING ⚠️- this is absolutely FILTHY like I need to go to church for real. like the last one is rainbows and kittens compared to this one y’all 😰🥴 sorry for any grammar mistakes or miss spelling

PSA- y/n in this smut is a famous TikTok weeb and she doesn’t understand how famous she is yet and Vinnie has a fat Crush on her readers to find out more 😈 and covid doesn’t exist in these obviously

https://youtu.be/NocXEwsJGOQi

Song/dance I’m talking about 👆

Vinnie’s POV

I watch her dance again I’ve watched it 8 or 9 times. Her baby blue thigh high socks and her lace pink skirt. The little bit of thigh poking out between the two driving me crazy the thoughts going right to my downstairs area. I groan and close TikTok I can’t keep thinking these things about y/n it’s not right I then hop out of bed and head downstairs to get some breakfast and coffee. When I get downstairs and step into the kitchen J immediately yells to me from the living room “DID YOU SEE HOW HOT Y/N LOOKS IN HER LAST TIKTOK!” Before I could answer Anthony come out of his room and gets something from the fridge “Avani is coming over and she’s bringing a friend that’s moving in with her, apparently she’s shy so everyone is nice I’m not getting bitched at cause you all couldn’t keep your dicks in your pants and made her uncomfortable” we all nod in agreement I take my muffin and coffee up to my room and watch some tv.

Y/n POV

I take a deep breath as I step off the gate moving to LA was a big move but it’s for the best I skip baggage claim because all of my stuff should be at Avani’s house by now. I pull my phone out of my carry on but before I could call Avani and see if she’s here yet but before I could I hear my name being called I turn around and see some boys around my age coming towards waving at me I wait and we take pictures I say goodbye as we walk away and call Avani’s phone “HEY! DID YOU LAND?!” “Yes I landed, I’ll be out front by the doors come find me.” I laughed as I hung up, It only took 10 minutes for Avani to find me and run at me full speed before nearly taking me and her self to the ground “WOAH!” “So how was your flight?” I laughed “very pleasant” Avani pulled away from me before looking me dead in the eyes. “There’s someone I want you to meet” point, Blank, period that was all she said before grabbing my hand and pulling me to her car. “Not that I don’t appreciate that but I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” Avani stops dead in her tracks before turning around to look at me “Then just fuck him” I stared back at her with a shocked face.

“I- wh- what “she turns back around before pulling me to her car, she unlocks the car and I throw my carry on in the back seat and get in the passenger side. Avani starts the car up then puts her seatbelt on, she turns on her blinker and waits for space so she can get out “well who is it?” I’m a little curious. Avani looks at me and smiles “I know you don’t follow him but maybe you have heard of him” she says with a big smile “his name is Vinnie and he is simply and cutest and sweetest most annoying human being on this earth” she says as she pulls out on to the road heading to her house or so I thought “no I can’t say I have heard of him.” About 30 minutes later she asks if I need to change because we’re gonna stop and pick up her boyfriend and maybe some of his friends then we’re gonna get some food. I thought about it and remembered I brought a mini skirt with me and some thigh high socks along with my doc martens and the sweatshirt I am wearing I think that’ll be fine “no I brought some clothes to change into.”

“Okay cool,” she says we sang to music before pulling in to the expansive looking neighborhood. I guess I should get used to this in a couple of months I’ll be in my own house in an expensive neighborhood just like this one (wink wink 😜) we pull into a house with a bunch of cars in the driveway. I’m kinda nervous for all the people my anxiety starts to kick in a little bit so I take a deep breath “if you want you can change in the car or the bathroom.” I almost agree about changing in the bathroom and for some reason, I change my mind “ it’s ok I’ll just change in the car.” Ok, that’s fine just come in when you are done past the stairs and then you’ll see the living room I’m gonna get Anthony from upstairs.”

She says as she walks away ok this is fine I hurry up and change I slid my socks on before putting my boots on as fast as I possibly could. I put my bag in the trunk in case more people decide to come then just us three I then walk up to the door and take a deep breath I grab the handle and turn it, Of course, it didn’t open. Why would it open, nothing goes right in my life. Great time to make it more awkward for myself, I knock on the door a couple of times and nothing happens so I do it again. Still nothing I take a deep breath before pushing the doorbell great just great I think to myself. I hear someone yell and I stand up straight and got ready to start explaining myself especially if Avani wasn’t the one to open the door. Not a second later a BEAUTIFUL man opens the door, soft brown eyes with hints of green and long eyelashes, rosy cheeks, and big red lips. Even his unruly curly hair was beautiful. I had to tilt my head back to look up at him ( you can change this if you are tall we love tall queens here) his eyes meet mine and Immediately his face changes from confusion, shock and then finally he hits the ground.

Vinnie’s POV

After I finished my breakfast I hopped in the shower and made a TikTok (the one where he has a towel wrapped around his waist) I then put on some sweats and walked downstairs I saw Jordan and Kio playing on the x box so I laid on the other couch before falling asleep. However, I woke up to the sound of Kio screaming my name I look up at him “will you go answer the door I’m about to win.” I groaned as I got up to answer the door I looked out of the peephole and saw nothing but the top of a head with pigtails on it “what the fuck” I said to myself chuckling and I opened the door to see a girl and as she looks up at me I immediately realized who it is and then everything went black.

Y/n POV

I look down as he lays on the ground unconscious I gasp before calling Avani’s name all of a sudden three boys come out of nowhere. “I don’t know what happened he opened the door and when he saw me he passed out” the boys looked at me with wide eyes before they started to laugh and make fun of the boy on the ground for being “whipped” and a “simp” I just look at them shocked “YOUR FRIEND IS PASSED OUT ON THE GROUND AND YOU'RE CALLING HIM A SIMP!!?” The boys stop and take their friend to the couch about that time Avani comes running down the stairs “ OMG Y/N ARE YOU OK I HEARD YOU SCREAMING!” “Yea the door was locked and that guy answered it and then just passed out when he saw me.”

Avani let’s out a load laugh “what the fuck is wrong with y’all” I say with a scared look on my face. “THAT'S VINNIE!” Avani yells as she laughs “he has the biggest crush on you and he passed out when he saw you OF COURSE WE’RE GONNA LAUGH!” She says almost crying “that’s Vinnie,” I say with wide eyes he’s fucking beautiful I think to myself. Maybe I will fuck him I laugh at my own joke I turn around as I hear one of the boys say “welcome back simp” I hear him groan. ”You guys I thought I just saw Y/n but I am pretty sure I was just still asleep, tell that girl I’m sorry please I’m gonna go lay down,” he says as he gets up slowly “you should put some ice on that bump.” You say as you walk towards him he looks up at you with wide eyes “don’t pass out again, please.”

I say with my hands out in front of me to push him back if he falls forward “ I-I I’m ok really.” He says as he scratches the back of his head “well show me where the kitchen is and I’ll get you an ice pack.” I saw with a smile “oh good luck we don’t have those here.” Vinnie says with a laugh “I got this don’t worry” I say with a wink. We walk into the kitchen and as he sits at the island I look around for a ziplock and fill it with ice, then wrap a rag around it. I walk towards Vinnie and hand it to him “thank you” he says with a smile while looking into my e/c eyes I stare back at him I don’t know how much time went by with us staring into each other's eyes but Avani walks in and laughs.

“Alright you two do you guys wanna stay here and we’ll bring you back food all the guys wanna come and we only have 5 seats sooo?”

I turn to look back at Vinnie “is that fine with you?” He looks at me and smiles “ I would love that” he says as he looks in my eyes again I take a deep breath staring back at him. I look at his beautiful lips his smile is just everything. “okay well text me what you guys want and we’ll be back in a couple of hours have fun, but not too much fun.” she says laughing I roll my eyes and look back at Vinnie “does your head feel any better?” “Yea actually” he pulls the ice back from his head and throws it in the sink “wanna watch a movie with me,” he asked with a smile “yes absolutely but first do you wanna film a couple of TikTok's together?”

I ask with puppy dog eyes “yes!” Vinnie says with no hesitation my eyes widened in shock at how fast he said yes “ok great. Well where should we film?” Vinnie thinks and asks if I wanted to film in his room or by the pool “hmmm the pool” I bet the sun is about to set “ok come, on silly girl,” Vinnie says as he walks away I run after him to see him go through a door so I follow and I see the big ass pool, I was right the sun is going down “wow,” I say to myself “it’s so beautiful right” Vinnie says with a smile “yea it’s is beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you though,” Vinnie says with a slight blush on his cheeks I turn and look at him before walking towards him. I stand on my tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek I feel Vinnie put his hands on my waist “come on before the sun goes down” Vinnie and I make a couple of dancing tiktoks and we decided to make a thirst trap on his account so we went to his bathroom.

Vinnie started the video in front of the mirror by himself and then he transitioned to where I’m standing in front of him holding the phone. The next transition was me sitting on his sink counter as he takes his finger and snaps my thigh high sock against my thigh he laughs at my shocked face before ending the video he watches the video back with his hand still on my thigh. His thumb drawing small circles on the outside of my thigh I just stare at him I could feel my heart thumping and butterflies in my stomach going straight to my heat I can’t be thinking about him like that we just met an hour ago tops. Vinnie looks down at me his eyes then trail from my eyes to my lips he licks his own lips “V-Vinnie” “ yes beautiful?” He asks “what are you thinking about?” Vinnie looks me in the eyes again and says “About how great you’re going to taste.”

My eyes widen in shock and I put my hands on his shoulders to stabilize myself I can’t do this I shouldn’t be feeling this way I barely know this man “V-Vinnie?” Vinnie looks down at me “what baby?” I move my hands to the back of his neck “kiss me please” Vinnie didn’t waste any time attaching his lips to mine he grabs at my waist and chest. I nibble on his lips teasing him he opens his mouth for me but I denied it and keep biting and teasing him. However Vinnie grew tired of my teasing he picks me up off the counter, he then rubs the little but of ass that’s poking out I gasp as he does, Vinnie takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, I can feel my heat throbbing against his rock-hard abs, my legs pulling Vinnie even closer to me and I start to grind my hips against his toned stomach and I let out little moans between kisses.

Before I realized what was going on he drops me on his bed immediately my legs fall apart and I reach my hands up to grab him but Vinnie is too busy staring at my cheeky white Lace panties with a cute pink bow at the top. I grow self-conscious I remember that I’m probably a little prickly down there and begin to close my legs, maybe this isn’t a good idea right now “don’t close your legs baby I think you are gorgeous.” He says with a sweet smile and lays his hands on my knees resting them there “I-I haven’t shaved in a couple of days and I-“ “I don’t care” Vinnie says with a duh face as a smile creeps on his Lips “as long as you keep you’re skirt and socks on I’m happy.” I give him a weird look and Vinnie looks back at me with an open mouth “ unless that makes you uncomfortable-“ “no I’m just curious as to why” I say with a smile “god I hope I don’t make myself sound like a creepy stalker” Vinnie says as he takes a deep breath “I have been following you for at least a year now and I have always had a crush on you I've had dreams about fucking you in a skirt with your socks on” he says really fast a deep blush on his cheeks.

“You just make it look so hot with your thick thighs and bubble butt-“ I take my sweatshirt off before he could finish ”so no shirt?” Vinnie looks at my boobs with his mouth open just staring “n- no” he clears his throat “ no bra huh” he says with a small smile “that’s a nice surprise” his eyes trailing down my naked chest “you can touch them if you want.” I say with a smile Vinnie immediately pushes my legs open and lays between them he then grabs both of my boobs in his hands and pinches my nipples with his thumbs and pointer fingers. I let out a whimper and grab his strong biceps I can feel his muscles flexing in his arm every time he squeezed or rubbed my boobs and nipples I began to rock my hips against his stomach again “c-can I lick them?” He asks in a small voice I throw my head back and let out a moan “YES PLEASE” Vinnie takes one of my nipples in his mouth and sucks harshly and pinches the other with his ring-covered hand as he begins to grind his bulge against me.

I gasp as he nibbles and sucks before moving on to the other nipple I run my hands through his hair I know I’m fucking it up but it’s so soft. I feel his lips trailing down my stomach I open my eyes and look down at him and the first thing is seeing is a bunch of big and little red mark all over my boobs and tummy “you left hickeys!!?!” Vinnie looks up and then looks down I see the blush creep on his cheeks and he looks down “well it’s too late now” I say with a breathy laugh “just keep going” Vinnie’s eyes light up before he went back to leaving hickeys on my hips. “Please vin” Vinnie looks up at me “can I” he looks down and then looks back up at me “yes, please do“ I laugh as I run my thumb over his bottom lip. Vinnie kisses the palm of my hand As he then kisses my lips again he rubs and squeezes my thighs for a while before pulling away to unlace my boots once he got both off he spreads my legs wide and looks at my panties that are soaked with my excitement.

I throw my hands over my eyes I know there’s a wet spot I just know it “Jesus baby all this for me” he says as he runs his pointer finger over my wet panties “you even made a mess on my bed baby.” Vinnie says as he kisses the inside of my thigh leaving hickeys I groan in pleasure and embarrassment my cheeks glowing red. Vinnie’s eyes shoot up to look at me and I can feel him smile against my thigh before switching to the other side I moan as I feel my walls clench around nothing. I can feel my wetness gush a little and I throw my head back whining and moaning Vinnie’s name. I feel Vinnie push his nose against my heat, he takes a deep breath through his nose, he groans as he licks his lips pulling away “you smell delicious baby, I bet you taste delicious too.” Vinnie leans his head down taking my underwear in his teeth and pulling them down my legs once they were fully off Vinnie pushes my legs apart and pushes my knees up so they are by my shoulders he can see EVERYTHING.

Vinnie keeps looking down eyes locked on one certain area I could feel him looking at it.“Maybe one day if you get lucky” I say with a smirk ( let me know if you would be interested in part 2 with✨anal✨😊) Vinnie blushes and then realizes what I said before smirking and leaning down between my thighs. Vinnie licks a stripe from my wetness to my clit he groans before shoving his tongue as far into me as possible “mmmm baby you taste like fucking candy.” he slurps and nibbles I gasp and run my hand in his hair “how is that even fucking possible?!” He groans “I could live down here.” he says as he shoves his long tongue into me yet again but this time he grazed a special spot making me release a small shout in shock.

“O-OH VINNIE YESSS DO THAT AGAIN!” I yell as I push his head down and grind my hips on his face at the same time basically using his face to get off. Vinnie pulls my hands off his head after a few minutes and pulls away “n-no keep going-“ “sit on my face please.” Vinnie says as stands up and pulls me towards him by my legs. “Why-“ “because I asked nicely,” he says with a cheeky smile looking down at me, so I sit up and get on my knees Vin lays down on his bed and gets comfortable he then reaches out to me with both hands. I take them and slowly shuffle my way up, when I finally am above his face and I start to lower myself Vinnie grabs my thighs and pushes me so all of my body weight is on his face ”mmmmmm baby! “Vinnie moans inside of me I moan and try to get away from his torturous tongue and vibrations that’s making my legs weak I don’t have the strength to fight him anymore and I fully sit.

Immediately he starts eating me out twice as fast and deep he starts rubbing my clit with his nose while he moans. He’s squeezing and slapping my ass with the other hand “OH OH GOD YES VINNIE JUST LIKE THAT.” I was humping his face at this point I don’t even realize he wasn’t holding me down anymore and it was me I thrust my hips a couple more times before calling out to him.“YES VINNIE MAKE ME CUM DADDY MAKE ME CUM ON YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE!!” I yell with my head thrown back “do you want me to cum on your tongue daddy?!” Ask in a whimper Vinnie groans in response to the vibration shoving me over the edge. I throw my head back so hard I fall off of Vinnie’s mouth onto the bed still moaning and whining, Vinnie jumps up and attacks my pussy with his mouth again.

Before my high is gone making me scream again and thrust against his face once more before I lay with my legs and mouth open gasping for breath. “Are you ok” I didn’t have it in me to talk so I just gave him two thumbs up Vinnie laughs before asking “are you down for another round?” My eyes widen and I look at him before I answer I take a good look at his hair all over the place lips red and plump my juices on his face. My eyes then got distracted but his god-like features my eyes taking extra long to graze over his v-line and his rock hard cock. I take my hand and run my fingers down his hard stomach feeling all the bumps and grooves down to his happy trail and I follow it to his sex Lines. I push Vinnie down on the bed before crawling in between his legs I begin to kiss his neck and leave hickeys as he did on me.

I lick his nipple on the way down and he lets out a surprised gasp grabbing onto one of my pigtails as I trail my lips and tongue down to his hip bones to leave hickeys there and on his sex lines. He trusted his hips up towards my face and let out a hot whine so I pull down his sweats and underwear in one go I immediately start to rub my thumb on his tip. I lick the vain from the bottom to the top and then I took his balls in my mouth as I stroke him Vinnie's head thrown back in pure pleasure “ple-please don’t stop” he says in an airy breath I pull off from his balls making a popping sound. I then take him in my mouth if there is one thing I’m good at its blowjobs the bigger the better and Vinnie is the biggest I've ever seen.

I suck the tip and make my way back down as far as I can go without deep throating him yet I got about halfway down his cock I then started to hum and move my tongue around what I could reach. I then began to deep throat Vinnie and as my throat was expanding to his size I couldn’t help but moan “F-FUCK.” Vinnie yells as he grabs both of my pigtails and shoves my head the rest of the way down making me choke “OH MY GOD! I’m so sorry-“ I moaned before doing it again myself my eyeballs rolling to the back of my head I then pull off and catch my breath. “Mmhm fuck my throat daddy” I say as I start to suck his tip again with big wide innocent eyes Vinnie’s hips snap against my face his hands grabbing my pigtails again fucking my throat.

I could feel his balls slapping against my chin and I grab them in one hand and start to massage them while I rub his thigh with my other hand. I feel his balls start to tighten and his tip twitched so I pull off “lay down I wanna Fuck you.” I say with confidence “I-I ok” Vinnie stutters laying on his back now as I straddle him. I take him and put his tip at my entrance before starting to sink down on him I let out a small moan as Vinnie let out a load moan as he grips the sheets trying to keep him self from pushing you down. ”Fuck Y/n your so fucking tight, I’m gonna explode” “ooooh yea, you gonna cum in me daddy or are you gonna put your baby’s on my thighs instead hmmmm maybe on my ass cheeks?” Vinnie let’s out a loud moan “any-anywhere baby please just let me cum” Vinnie groans “mmm fuck me baby.“

I say I feel him grab my ass cheeks before thrusting up into me at a super-fast pace. Vinnie groans and moans as I scream and moan “ahh are you gonna cum in my little pu-pussy daddy?” “Mmmm yes baby I’m gonna paint your walls with my seed.” Vinnie says as he pounds into me at an even fastest pace if that’s possible. “I’m gonna shoot my load so far up your pussy it’s gonna be coming out of you for days!” He yells as he grabs my neck and licks my face we are both groaning and yelling things at each other. “HIT ME DADDY HIT ME” I yell I’ve never asked someone to hit me before so this is new.

Vinnie without even thinking about it throws me on my back and slaps me across the face. I could feel the stinging sensation and my pussy throbbed so I whimpered “again” he slapped me across my face again. I moan even loader this time I could feel the knot starting to twist “AGAIN DADDY SLAP MY FACE AGAIN AN-AND CALL ME YOUR LITTLE SLUT!” I scream at Vinnie so he slaps my face again harder this time. I could really feel the sting that time I let out a cry but immediately moaned right after “YOU LIKED THAT DIDN’T YOU SLUT” he pounds into harder. I let out sobs of pleasure tears running down my face.

Vinnie then pulls out completely before flipping me on to my hands and knees, I immediately drop my head to the bed so my ass is in the air. I feel Vinnie push inside of me again this time from the back, he grabs my hips thrusting in to me at a fast pace ”DADDYS GONNA SLAP YOUR ASS TILL ITS PRETTY AND PINK” Vinnie shouts at me as he begins to abuses my ass cheeks with his open palms I push back on him and I moan my eyes rolling to the back of my head ”P-P-PLEASE DADDY CUM INSIDE OF ME I WANT TO BE YOUR SLUT !” I scream at the top of my lungs I can feel the knot about to pop “F-FUCK YOUR SUCH A DIRTY LITTLE SLUT YOU WANT ME TO CUM IN YOUR TIGHT LITTLE WHORE PUSSY!” He moans “SUCH A DIRTY SLUT FUCKING A MAN YOU MET TWO HOURS AGO AND ALREADY ASKING ME TO PUT BABIES INSIDE OF YOU!” He shouts as I let out a scream it was like everything stopped my mind went blank all I could think about was how good daddy’s cock felt inside of my slutty little pussy.

I hear Vinnie start to pant “I’m gonna-I’m-I’m CUMMING” he yells as he grabs my boobs and falls into my neck his hot breath on my neck. I wrap my arms around his waist and I start to rub his back “thank you, Vinnie.” He starts laughing “I should be thanking you I don’t think my dick will get hard for another woman ever again.” I laugh and give him a tight hug “you know I don’t actually think you're a whore right “ I look at him and smile “well I would hope not considering you had sex with a complete stranger too” I kiss him on the lips “will you go on a date with me y/n?” I smile at him “yes, absolutely I would love to!” He chuckles and kisses my lips “I never thought I was gonna meet you, or be going in a date with you. let alone have sex with you AND cum inside of you all in the same day, life is full of surprises” he says with a big smile. I smile back at him before kissing him once more and getting comfortable “will you take a nap with me?” “Yea of course my sweet girl.” Vinnie says with a kiss on the head.

[icerosecrystal]

Marijon - My Secret Older Sister

Her name is Marinette Amani Al-Ghul. Marinette is the first grandchild of the demon-head and the daughter of Talia Al-Ghul. She is also the older sister of Damian Al-Ghul by two years. Despite what others may think, both she and her brother came from the same man. Bruce Wayne. Although Damian has no idea who his father is, Marinette has known for eight years. Despite the young age of 12, she was an incredibly smart girl. She also possessed the ability to be happy and feel love. But not in front of anyone but her brother and sometimes her mother. She and her brother had a great relationship. They were always there for each other. Damian was there for Marinette when her grandfather Ra's would sometimes beat her for not doing well on a mission. And he would base it solely on her gender. Marinette was there for Damian the first time Damian had to kill someone. It disgusted him, but he continued doing it for the sake of his title.  

Then the day the League fell came. Slade had attacked when Ra's was showing the whole League to Damian and explaining that it would all one day be his. Marinette was standing behind them next to her mother. Ra's had told her mother to grab both of them and run. Marinette protected her brother throughout it all when suddenly, Marinette got shot in the stomach. She collapsed in pain. She saw her mother running back to them, so Marinette let go of Damian, who was looking at her worriedly, "Damian, my akhi, go run, save yourself. Tell Mother to take you to Father. I'll be fine."

Damian was crying now, "NO, I won't leave you, you have to come with me. Please don't leave me, ukhti."

Marinette smiled sadly. She then hugged Damian and kissed him on the cheek, "I love you. And I promise I will find you one day." She let go of his hand as Talia quickly grabbed his arm and lead him to the docks, glancing at Marinette once in worry.

Marinette was lying still for a little bit before she heard a voice say, "Tom, I found her!" Marinette turned her head to the side and saw her godmother, Sabine Cheng recently Dupain-Cheng, hurrying over to her, with her godfather Tom not too far behind.

When they reached her, they gasped at the wound in her stomach. Tom picked her up and quickly walked to the docks with Sabine following. "Where we going?" Marinette said her voiced slurring, herself only half-conscious due to the blood loss.

Sabine answered, "We're going to Paris. We had a house there just in case we ever had to escape the League."

Marinette nodded in turn before she closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. "Good night," she heard before she was fully asleep.  

Marinette woke up to an unfamiliar scene. She tensed, but when she caught sight of her godparents, she relaxed, "So what's the plan?"

Sabine was the one who answered", Well, you aren't allowed to act like the devil in disguise." Marinette scoffed, but she didn't argue, knowing Sabine was right. She may be sweet with her family, but with strangers and acquaintances, she wasn't the nicest. "Also, you are going to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are the daughter of two bakers, Tom and I, and you are a designer. You will also be clumsy and stutter a lot."

Marinette nodded in understanding, "Okay, but what about Damian?"

Sabine sighed, "You're just going to have to hope that one day you find each other again."

Marinette nodded in understanding. She then went up to her new room, ready to put on a mask for the rest of the world to see.

(Time Skip)

It was now the start of the tenth grade for Marinette. She was now thirteen-years-old, and she was ready to play her part of the clumsy baker's daughter. She took some macaroons for her new classmates and then walked outside. While she waited to cross the street, she caught sight of a man crossing the street. A car was heading right to him. Regardless of who she was pretending to be, she wasn't going to let a man get hurt. She ran and quickly pulled him to the sidewalk, effectively using it as an excuse to trip over her feet. She handed the man a macaroon and then ran to school.

At school, she sat down quietly in her seat. When a dark girl, with brown hair and auburn highlights, picked a fight with a blonde girl. The blonde girl was supposedly bullying Marinette. Marinette and the blonde girl exchanged looks, acknowledging that the girl before them was a load of bull. Marinette then found out that the blonde girl's name was Chloe, and she was a bully, and the other girl was Alya.

Marinette looked around the classroom, analyzing everybody.

She then heard a voice scream, "Kim!"

She looked behind her to see a big, burly blonde kid, look like he wanted to beat up somebody. The teacher then asked him, "Ivan, what is going on?"

The blonde kid replied, "It's Kim! I'm so going to get..."

The teacher then pointed to the door and shouted, "Ivan, go to the principal's office."

Before Ivan could stomp off angrily, Marinette spoke up, quite surprised by the way the teacher was handling things, "With all due respect Miss, you didn't even listen to Ivan's side of the story. It could be Kim that's bullying Ivan, but you're rather playing favoritism."

The teacher sputtered, not knowing how to react, "Who gave you the authority to question my teaching skills?"

Marinette smirked, replying, " Common sense."

Mrs. Bustier walked out of the classroom to calm down, pure fury clear on her face. That day she turned into Zombispect. When she kissed them, they would automatically obey and respect her. That was also the day Lady Spots and Chat Noir resided in Paris.

While Lady Spots was a great superhero, Chat Noir was an incompetent fool. Marinette hated him. He would always flirt with her and never get anything done. And in many cases, if he didn't get what he wanted, he would either threaten to quit or sit out. Marinette never told him, but she honestly thought that she did better in battle when he wasn't around.

In terms of her civilian life, Alya convinced herself that she was Marinette's best friend and that Marinette had a crush on Adrien. In actuality, Marinette's best friend was and is her brother, Damian, and Chloe. While Chloe was spoiled, she was also neglected by her parents, which made her act rather bitchy at times. And she for sure did not have a crush on the spineless Adrien Agreste. No one in the class knew anything about the real her. But her godparents and even Chloe, who knew a bit about her. But, the one person that Marinette wanted to talk to was her precious little brother. She needed to hug him, spoil him, and talk with him about everything. But most of all, she wanted to know that he was still alive and happy somewhere.

Marinette would cry herself to bed every day, hoping that one day she would see him again. Thankfully, Tikki was on her side.

(Time Skip of one year. This is after Volpina, but before Chameleon)

It has been two years since Marinette last saw her brother. Alya was still going strong, coming up with ridiculous plans for her to date Adrien. She was still a "clumsy" baker girl. And while designing was her supposed hobby, after about a month, she really got into it. What pissed Marinette off the most was that she had to wear pink, have her room pink, and wear pigtails. Why? Because it strengthened the fact that she was an innocent, little, naive girl. While it did help people underestimate her, it annoyed the heck out of her. She actually ranted to her godparents one day about how bad her appearance was, "How can one color be so bright?! How could anyone like looking at it?! Why the hell do these pigtails make me look like a short-ass baby?! I look like a fucking moron! Where the hell is Damian when you need him?!" It was about three days later when her question was answered.

Marinette had been walking around town when suddenly someone bumped into Marinette.  Marinette caught herself and caught the person she bumped into. But the words that came out of the person's mouth had her reeling, "Tt, what type of imbecile are you to be bumping into people on the street?" Marinette would know that voice anywhere. And sure enough, when she actually looked at the person that she bumped into, she was staring into the face of her brother. When he realized who she was, he let out a timid, "Marinette," that had Marinette practically sobbing.

When she found that her face was wet, she realized that she was sobbing, but she didn't care. Damian was alive. She strangled him with a hug, cooing softly into his ear once he too started crying. They stayed like that for a while before they released each other. It was then that Marinette saw the boy standing behind Damian.

She blushed when she noticed his features, black hair like her own, the bluest, purest eyes she had ever seen. He was wearing glasses that gave him a nerdy look, but his body begged to differ. He was very tall, probably 5ft 11, and had huge muscles that gave off more of a jock look. He had so many characteristics that Marinette felt insanely attracted. She snapped out of her thoughts and offered the boy a hand, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, or Marinette Al-Ghul, Damien's older sister by two years."

He gave her a blinding smile that could rival the sun and then kissed her hand, "Jonathan Kent, Jon for short. It's nice to meet the sister of my best friend." The more she studied him, the more she realized that he looked familiar. It was then that she realized he was Superboy, the superhero Alya had been raving about last week.

Marinette blushed at him kissing her hand. She then decided to let her inner devil come out to play. Leaning closer, she whispered, "It's nice to meet you too. I hope that you have been nice to my brother. Because if I found out you haven't, I might get my katana and skin you. I know that you might be invincible, but with the kryptonite, which I do have, you would be weakened within a second. So make your decisions carefully." She then leaned back and watched how his expression changed. His face went from happy, to confused, to shocked, to scared, and the surprisingly, love.

He smirked, "Well, you are better than I expected." He then pulled out a piece of paper and wrote his phone number. "Call me, you're hot and a little devil, I like it." He then winked and gave it to her.

They both heard Damian scream, "KENT! Stay away from my sister before I skin you!"

Marinette giggled and took the piece of paper from him. She then asked, "You look to be about my age. Why are you with Damian?"

Jon replied, "I'm 15-years-old. So one year older than you. (I know that Jon is actually three years younger in Super Sons, but for this to work, Jon is three older, not younger. If you have any problems with that, fight me.) And Damian and I work together a lot. We're considered the Super Sons, so we're best friends."

Marinette nodded in understanding before suggesting that they all go to a coffee shop to talk. Damian and Jon agreed. Damian told Marinette all about their father, their brothers, and sisters, him being Robin. He told her everything. She offered him support and asked questions about their family.

When it was her turn, she explained how Tom and Sabine saved her and how she came to Paris. And how she is pretending to be a clumsy sweet girl who likes pink. (She wasn't totally over the whole pink thing along with the pigtails.)  That coaxed a laugh out of both Damian and Jon. But when she got to the part about Alya, Damian wanted to skin Alya. He was Marinette's best friend, not some dumb harlot. When she explained how she was Lady Spots, and Chat Noir had some major failings as a partner, it took both Jon and Marinette to hold him back. He continued trying to escape while shouting, "LET ME AT HIM, HE DARE FLIRT WITH MY SISTER!!! I'LL SKIN HIS SORRY ASS BEFORE RIPPING HIM INTO SHREDS AND DUMPING HIM IN A RIVER!" He then continued to explain exactly how he would kill Chat Noir. Marinette knew that he was capable of going through with his plan, so she distracted him by asking for his phone number so that they could stay in contact. Damian calmed down enough to give it to her.

When she realized how late it was, she gave a hug and promised to meet up with him for the rest of the week. She also promised that once he left Paris, she would stay in contact. She wasn't going to leave her brother again. She then went up to Jon and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye. She then turned around and went home. If she had stayed a second longer, she would have seen Jon blush and then touch the cheek that she kissed with his fingertips, a goofy smile adorning his lips. Although Damian wanted to keep Jon away from his sister, he supposed Jon was better than the mangy cat or the spineless model.

For the rest of the week, the three met up every day and did different activities. One day they went to the Lourve, another an arcade, the day after that a carnival, and so on. On their last day, they went to the park and then went for Andre's ice cream. When they arrived, Andre greeted Marinette, "Bonjour Marinette! Would you like a sweetheart ice cream."

"Oui Andre. This is my brother Damian, and his friend Jon." She then turned to the boys, "Andre is the sweetheart's ice cream maker. He essentially gives you icecream based on the characteristics of your soul mate. Damian, how about you go first."

Damian stepped in front of the cart, "Ah, Damian, one scoop of violet and honey for her eyes, coconut ash for her hair, and cherry for her mysterious and complicated past. Here you are." (There is actually such a thing as black ice cream. It's made with coconut ash that people sometimes flavor with burnt honey vanilla.)

Damian took the ice cream and looked at it. He then realized that it looked like Raven, his crush. He blushed. "Ah, I see the love fair and true. I suppose you know who is right for you?" Damian nodded and started eating his ice cream, a small smile gracing his lips. He then paid attention to his sister and his best friend. They were now getting their ice cream.

Andre looked at the two and said, "Ah, but here's the truth, the two of you are the right match. You complete each other just like one, so come, let Andre supply you with love." Marinette and Jon were both surprised by the turn of events. But they both just blushed and agreed. Andre then said, "Blueberry for both your eyes, strawberry for her lips, cherry for his secret, and cotton candy for your personalities. Enjoy!"

Jon and Marinette waved goodbye and then ate their ice cream. They were still surprised about the turn of events. Neither knew what to say to the other until picked up some courage and asked, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Marinette was surprised but agreed. They shared a chaste kiss. They then heard Damian gagging in the background. They broke apart, and Jon raised an eyebrow, "You're one to talk. I saw your ice cream. It really represented, mmph." Damian covered Jon's mouth before he could blurt out the name of his sweetheart.

"Kent looks like it's time to go! By the way, if you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to kill you." He then dragged Jon off, leaving Marinette to chuckle to herself. The next day, she said goodbye to Damian and Jon. She gave them both a quick hug along with an extra kiss for Jon. She was so happy that she had found her brother again.

(Time Skip of three years)

It has been three years since Marinette bumped into Damian and Jon in Paris. The two visited whenever they could, the same with Marinette. But they never told their families. Marinette didn't tell her family because they didn't know she was Ladybug. Damian didn't tell because he wanted his sister to himself. Jon didn't tell because the other two didn't. Jon's and Marinette's relationship was still going strong. They loved each other very much. Jon loved how playful and happy Marinette could be, but she wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone. She was his little devil. Marinette loved Jon because of how pure and sunshiny he was. She loved how he cared for her and was always there for her no matter what. Damian actually started a relationship with Rachel Roth otherwise known as Raven as Andre's ice cream had indicated all those years ago.

During the three years, many things had changed, though. A girl named Lila came and turned everyone against her except Chloe. Marinette pretended that she was sad, but really she was ecstatic that she didn't have to hang out with morons anymore. She found Lila quite pathetic. Lila let others do her dirty work for her. She hid behind lies and morons. Marinette never found her as a threat.

She also defeated Hawkmoth a year ago, but it was because he surrendered. So, she didn't take him to jail, she made him donate thousands of dollars to people who needed therapy from the akumas and do community service. He agreed, so she let him go. She was glad that Gabriel Agreste had learned his lesson.

Yeah, for the most part, everything was going fine, she wasn't stuck with morons, and she had her brother and boyfriend. Until her brother and significant idiot forgot that her bio family didn't know about her.

It was the end of another shitty day for Marinette. She collapsed on her chaise. She looked at the time and realized that it was time for her's and Damian's video calls. She groaned before getting up and getting her phone. She dialed his number before waiting for him to pick up. Once he did, she saw that Jon was with him. They all talked together animatedly. What Damian and Jon forgot to do, was make sure that the Bat-family didn't come back from patrol while they were still on the call. But naturally, the two idiots forgot.

So, two hours later, when the three were still talking, they didn't realize when Jason came into the room. They only did when Jason screamed, "Demon Spawn and Supes Junior are talking to a girl on the phone!" This alerted the rest of the Waynes, so they all ran into Damian's room. When they entered, they were met with quite a sight. A confused Jason was watching a small pixie-like girl screaming at Jon and Damian in what seemed to be Arabic, Urdu, Russian, English, French, Spanish, Romanian, and Greek.

Once she calmed down, although she was still glaring at the two boys, she introduced herself, "Hi, my name is Marinette."

Dick asked her, "What's your last name?"

Marinette replied, "It depends on who your asking. Here in France, I would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In the league, I would be Marinette Al-Ghul. But, my real name would most likely be Marinette Wayne."

Jason yelled, "Your married to Demon Spawn!"

Marinette scowled, "No, Tt, are you always this incompetent? I am Damian's older sister by two years. I am also Jon's girlfriend of three years."

Bruce took a deep breath and pinched his nose, "And the reason none of you said anything was because?" He looked directly at Damian when asking the question.

Damian snapped, "I didn't want to share my beloved sister. She is too good for you imbeciles. She is also too good for Kent. But Kent is better than the mangy cat or the ugly model."

Everyone looked at Marinette confused except for Damian and Jon. She quickly shook her head, "Don't ask. If you want to ask me some questions, I'll be there in a minute."

Damian realizing that she was going to use the horse miraculous to transport to Gotham quickly said, "Wait, no, don't!" But she had already ended the call making Damian curse in Arabic.

Seconds later a portal appeared and a girl stepped out. She then spoke, "Kaalki, dismount." A flash appeared around her and they then saw the same girl on the phone now in front of them.

This left Wayne's gaping, while Alfred asked, "Mistress Marinette, would Kaalki I assume, need anything?"

Marinette replied, "Oui, she prefers sugar cubes to recharge. Merci, Alfred."

Then Jon got up and shouted, "My little devil!"

"Sunshine", Marinette exclaimed in joy before kissing him with full force. He kissed her back passionately. She placed her arm on his shoulders while he held her waist and lifted her a little off the ground. After a little bit, there was an awkward cough that reminded them that there were others in the room. They gave each other one more peck, before reluctantly pulling away. Although, Jon's arm was still around her waist. Marinette tried to not focus on the aching in her chest that was telling her to pounce on Jon and smother him in love and kisses while he did the same to her.

Marinette sighed and tried to focus on the situation at hand, "It's nice to meet all of you. My name is Marinette Al-Ghul Wayne, and I am Damian's sister as mentioned."

They all stared at her strangely until Tim asked, "Are you sure you grew up with Damian, or that your mother is Talia Al-Ghul? You seem a lot more different from Demon Spawn."

She smirked at them viciously, "First of all, I am for sure Damian's biological sister. Second of all, I may seem like an angel, but I'm the devil in disguise, hence Jon's nickname for me. Third of all, I'm not as arrogant as Damian because Ra's was always abusing me since I was a girl. So, I am a lot worse than Damian, I just don't show it."

No one knew what to do with this information. Sure Damian already knew about the beatings, but no one else did. They stared at her in worry, but she just waved them off, "Don't worry about me. Ra's is dead, I'm living with my godparents, and I'm happy."

Damian then rose an eyebrow, "What about your moronic classmates?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. This pathetic girl who threatened to take my friends away, made it so that no one talks to me anymore. So, yay! Oooh, also I should probably explain my life to you?" She then went on to talk about everything, how her life was at the league, what happened when Slade attacked,  her life in Paris and when she became Lady Spots, how she met Damian and Jon, what happened after that.

By the end of her story, everyone looked like they wanted to kill her classmates and Chat Noir. Well, almost everyone. Bruce was on the ground muttering to himself, "Why, why, why? I just wanted one of my kids to not be a superhero. Is that too much to ask for?"

While Bruce had his breakdown, Tim asked her, "Did you defeat Hawkmoth?"

"Yeah, I did. He surrendered, so I let him off with some requirements in place. I actually was thinking of doing something to expose Lila. As much as I hate the morons, their future will be horrible if they keep on listening to that pathetic bitch."

Damian looked at her curiously, "What were you thinking?

"You are going to invite my class to the Wayne Gala. There we are going to introduce the whole family, including me. Damian, you are going to bring Raven. I'll bring Jon obviously. If we disprove that she knows the Waynes, the rest of her lies will come crashing down." Everyone smiled obviously pleased with the idea.

So they spent the next month getting the gala together. They organized a contest that Bustier's class won. During the month, the Waynes got to know Marinette. While Damian did have a problem with sharing her, everyone still go to know her. They were officially scared of her after she won after sparing against everyone and then cussing at Damian in many languages. It made Jon fall more in love with her though.

Another problem was that the Waynes would walk into Jon's and Marinette's make-out sessions all the time. Once, Jon, had Marinette pushed up against a wall and he was kissing her passionately. Marinette had her hands in his hair, one of them playing with the ends of his hair. She had taken off his shirt and was kissing down his neck. Jon had groaned and had stopped her so he could kiss her neck as well making her moan in want. He was whispering about what he wanted to do with her at the same time. Through dazed eyes, Marinette looked up and finally saw her family looking at her, both Damian and Bruce had their jaws clenched. When Jon noticed them, he quickly let go of her. Dick, Jason, and Tim started laughing, cooing, and teasing them, making Marinette hide her head in his chest. This made Damian launch himself at Jon, but before he could, Marinette had already disarmed him. She screamed, "Don't hurt my boyfriend, Damian." He just huffed, but let it go. From then on, they made sure to lock the door.

It was finally the day of the gala. Marinette saw all of her classmates. They mostly looked nice, but Lila was wearing an incredibly revealing dress.

It was then time for the reveal. Bruce went up to the stage and announced, "Good evening, everybody. I am pleased that you could all attend. Today, I would like to introduce all of my children along with their significant other. To start, my oldest son Richard Grayson, also known as Dick Grayson along with his wife Kori Grayson."

(Bruce's suit)

(Dick's Suit)

(Kori's Dress)

"My son Jason Todd."

(Jason's suit)

"My son Tim Drake."

(Tim's suit)

"My son Damian Wayne with his girlfriend Rachel Roth."

(Damien's suit)

(Rachel's dress)

"Finally, my new found daughter, also Damian's biological older sister Marinette Wayne. With her date Jon Kent."

(Marinette's dress) 

(Jon's suit)

When her classmates saw Marinette they started screaming insults. She just raised an eyebrow at them, "Is there a problem?"

Alya yelled, "Yeah there is. You're not a Wayne, you never told me that you were."

Marinette replied, "We were never best friends so I was under no obligation to tell you anything. I am a Wayne. I just lived with my godparents in Paris until my dad found out about me. I am dating my handsome boyfriend, Jonathan Kent. I have given you so much proof. How about you question Lila. She claimed that she was dating Damian. Damian is two years younger than her and he is dating Rachel. She isn't close to the Waynes, I am. So, stop questioning me and question her."

Everyone looked at Lila, but she was incredibly pale. That showed everyone that she was lying. They started yelling at her. Bruce then spoke up, "Security, escort this class out of the gala." As security did so, no one stopped yelling at Lila.

Marinette and Jon then turned to the reporters and Marinette said, "Five questions go."

She pointed to one reporter, "Where do you live?"

"Paris like I mentioned earlier."

She pointed to another, "How old are you?"

"I am 17-years-old, almost 18."

She pointed to a third one, "Were you surprised about being a Wayne?"

"No, I knew that I was a Wayne my whole life. But I was sent to my godparents instead of my dad like Damian. But I still knew." She pointed to her family, "They were surprised about my existence."

She pointed to a fourth reporter, "How do you like being a Wayne?"

"I really enjoy it. They are so nice to me. I really cherish them and we all have a lot of fun together. "

She pointed to a final reporter, "Do you like being Jonathan Kent's girlfriend and how did you meet?"

"We met when I bumped into him and my brother in Paris. We spent the week together. We got this thing called sweethearts ice cream. The ice cream tells you who your soulmate is. The guy who runs it Andre said that we were meant to be together. Jon asked me to be his girlfriend after. We have been a couple for three years. I love Jon a lot. He's really sweet and considerate. I wouldn't trade him for the world." Everyone awed.

Jon then picked her up bridal style, "Now that this is over, we'll be going home to have some fun." He winked at everyone.

Marinette blushed at the implications, "JON!" But, Jon silenced her with a passionate kiss, carrying her off the stage.

As Marinette kissed him back, she felt so happy. She had a loving family and boyfriend. They accepted her and cherished her.

She didn't know that the league was going to be attacked, but it helped her grow as a person and escape abuse. She didn't know that she would get a boyfriend. She didn't know she would ever meet her little brother ever again or meet her family. She didn't know what the future had in store for her. But she did know that she was going to spend it with her boyfriend and her family, and nothing was going to stop her.

(Sorry for the pictures smack in the middle of everything!)

[arrowflier]

i wish you'd write a fic where mickey reluctantly goes on a picnic with ian (maybe with their baby girl and dog?)

This is a great excuse for a little more of my new headcanon where they pick up a couple strays. I have to apologize, though, because this is probably not as fluffy as you imagined—there’s a pretty heavy backstory that’s hinted at. I tried to add some cute things too, though!

For the curious, first mention of their oldest daughter Brit (Mickey calls her Brat) here and of the dog, Basil, here.

---

“You want to go on a what?” Mickey asks incredulously as his husband putters around their small kitchen, putting together sandwiches.

“A picnic, Mick,” Ian replies, his head currently stuck inside the open fridge. He pops out long enough to give Mickey a look. “And don’t act surprised, I told you yesterday.”

Mickey holds out his arms, palms up. “Do I look like I knew this was comin’?” He moves out of the way as Ian closes the fridge and rounds the counter, lunchmeat in hand. “I didn’t know you were serious, man!”

Ian sighs, laying ham on bread and reaching for a knife to spread the mustard. “What’s the problem, huh?” he asks. “You don’t want to have a nice day with us?”

“Hey, don’t you do that,” Mickey commanded, pointing a finger at him. “Excuse me if I don’t want to take a toddler and fucking dog to a damn tourist trap.”

Ian rolls his eyes as he finishes the sandwiches, setting them neatly in a piece of tupperware that Mickey doesn’t remember owning. “It’s not a tourist trap, Mick,” he says patiently, “it’s a park. And your daughter wants to go.”

Mickey scoffs, trying not to soften too noticeably. Ian knew he always gave in when he used the d word. “Yeah, she wants to go cause someone showed her a bunch of pictures yesterday.”

“I was trying to keep her occupied, Mick,” Ian says for what feels like the millionth time. “She just saw her mom in the hospital, she needed a distraction.”

“That bitch has never been her mom,” Mickey starts to respond, and Ian glares at him.

“Told you not to say that shit,” he says lowly, casting his eyes around for their daughter. “She doesn’t need to hear it.”

“Relax, she’s in her room,” Mickey tells him, but he stops anyway. Well, stops the name-calling, at least. “But you know I didn’t agree to lie to her, Ian, that’s all your brilliant idea.”

Returning to the fridge to grab a few cold pops, Ian blows out a breath. “And I told you, we’re not lying. We’re just…,” he stands there for a second with the door open, considering, before finishing with, “we’re just holding back a bit until she’s older.”

Mickey’s mouth is twisted, but when Ian comes closer to put a hand against his face, it relaxes. “Just for a little bit, Mickey, ok?” Ian asks softly. “Just let her think she’s a normal kid for a little longer. Longer than we got to.”

And fine, Mickey could do that. He nods.

Ian smiles, pecks him on the lips and pulls away. “Good,” he says. “I’ll go get Brit, you get Basil, and we’ll get on our way in a few minutes.”

Mickey stands still in the corner of the kitchen for a long moment, listening to his husband call out for their kid. “We’re goin’ on a picnic,” he mutters to himself. “With a kid and fucking dog. How the hell did I end up here?”

He whistles, hears the patter of small paws against tile as said dog comes careening around the corner from the living room. Basil comes to a sudden stop against Mickey’s legs and drops his rear to the floor with a thump, tail whipping rhythmically against the wooden counter. Mickey sighs as he grabs the leash off the hook on the wall behind him and bends down to attach it to the dog’s bright red collar.

“At least you’re not wearing a fucking sweater,” he tells Basil solemnly, and sputters when Basil rewards him with a lick across the face.

—

They’re almost there on the L, Brit clinging to Ian’s leg on the crowded train and Mickey trying not to let on that he has a 40 lb dog hidden in giant fucking tote bag between his feet. Thankfully, Basil is great at playing dead—Mickey taught him that one himself—so the biggest difficulty will be carrying him out without getting a hernia.

The kid tugs at Mickey’s pant leg as the train rounds a corner, and he looks down to see her grinning up at him through wisps of dark hair that escaped her messy pigtails.

“Are we goin’ to see the baby?” she asks excitedly, lisping a bit as her tongue hits the space where her front teeth used to be.

“Uh,” he says, looking to Ian for guidance. Ian is pretending not to listen, though, the bastard. He looks back down into his daughter’s dark eyes.

“Not today, Brat,” he tells her, and keeps going before she can pout. “We told you it’s gonna be a while, yeah? Your sister’s not done bakin’ yet.”

“Like a cake!” she exclaims. Mickey sees a little old woman smiling at them, and wonders if she’d think it was so cute if she knew half the story.

“Yeah, like a cake, kid,” he agrees.

“But where are we goin’?” she asks next.

Mickey absently tucks a longer strand of loose hair behind her ear, and answers, “Remember that place your dad was showin’ ya the other day?”

She gives a delighted gasp just as the announcement is made for Lake Station, and when she sees him bend to hoist up the bag they’ve hidden Basil in, she dashes for the now-open doors.

“Hey, wait!” he calls after her, but Ian beats him to the door with his long, unburdened stride, catching up to her quickly and leaving Mickey to deal with everything else.

Mickey looks down into the open tote, and Basil blinks an eye open to look back from where he’s curled around the container holding their lunch.

“Typical,” Mickey mutters, and hobbles off the train in pursuit.

—

Thankfully, the kid was more interested in seeing the gardens and the lakefront than any of the crowded, no-dogs-allowed areas, so after a few quick pics of her fooling around in front of the Bean, they get settled in with minimal fanfare toward the center of the park.

Mickey is leaning back on his elbows on the ratty blanket they brought, picking at his sandwich and watching his little girl run wild over the grass as Ian and Basil chase her, their own meals half-eaten and forgotten beside him. He watches as Ian catches her, the two of them falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs as Basil’s leash wraps around them, the dog running circles around his humans. Mickey laughs when Ian tries to stand and promptly falls back over, having to stop and free his damn giraffe legs from the leash before he tries again.

Ian kisses their daughter on the head and hands the dog off to her as he gets up, heading back toward Mickey. There’s no need to worry about whether she can handle it—Basil may weigh almost the same as her, but the dog had always been careful with her since she came to stay with them more than a year ago.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ian asks softly as he approaches. He collapses onto the blanket next to Mickey, just close enough to press their legs together. He lets a hand rest between them, and Mickey shifts his weight off one elbow so he can take it, twining their fingers together. His eyes are on their children, the human and the furred, but he can see Ian smile from the corner of his eye.

“Nah,” he murmurs quietly. “Guess not.”

Ian leans in and presses a kiss to the side of his neck, then to his cheek. “Just think,” he whispers into Mickey’s ear, “in a few months we’ll have another one.”

Mickey can’t help but snort. “Yeah, if we can keep her incubator from runnin’ off and overdosing again before then.”

Ian nudges him with his knee, and Mickey looks over with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, I didn’t call her a bitch this time,” he points out, and Ian rolls his eyes.

“It’s progress, I guess,” he relents, settling more firmly into Mickey’s side. They sit together, holding hands, and watch Brit and Basil play under the bright noon sun.

“I want to come back once she’s here,” Ian mentions. “The new baby." He turns his gaze to Mickey, eyes soft. "All of us together, as a family.”

“Fuck no,” Mickey vetoes immediately. “You want to do all this with a noisy infant in a shit-filled diaper, you get to do it yourself.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Ian responds, and Mickey groans.

Because he knows if Ian wants it, he’ll be dragging a 40 lb dog, a hyperactive child, and a newborn around the damn park before he can even threaten divorce.

But as he watches his daughter walk their dog on the green grass, his husband reclining beside him on a soft blanket, the sun shining down on him, he thinks about adding a baby carrier to the picture, just there next to Ian. And he has to admit that it might not be too bad.

[soulmate-game]

Well that happened.

B!dbwm 2020

Day 6: Meeting the Justice League

Marinette paced in her bedroom in Wayne Manor, running her hands through her hair as Damian laid on her bed and played animal crossing while completely ignoring her freakout. 

“Dami, how did I get myself into this mess?!” she asked, frantically pulling at her pigtails. Her brother snorted, rolling his eyes unsympathetically. 

“You never use your brain until after you’ve already made important decisions,” he responded ruthlessly. “All of your mental capacity goes towards planning out completely inane things like birthday parties and actually caring about what our even more idiotic class thinks about you, so when you actually need it you don’t have any intelligence left to spare.” 

Marinette turned her eyes on him, the blue lightening to an icy color in her panicked annoyance as she glared at him. “Gee, thanks. I can always trust my darling brother to have my back,” she said sarcastically, to which Damian only smirked. 

“When it matters? Of course. But in this case, watching the fallout will be entertaining and not at all dangerous to your physical safety.” 

Damian and Marinette had been sent to live in Paris a few years back, about a year after Damian had come back to life. Marinette had been far too attached to the twin she had thought she had lost for good, and had nearly driven him crazy with how overprotective she had gotten. Right alongside that, Damian had started to become even more stifled by Bruce’s own protectiveness and distrust of him, so he quit being Robin and they were sent to PAris to try and “recover” from their “trauma” somewhere “safe and peaceful, under the jurisdiction of the JLE.” 

Yeah, that was a great idea. Up until they found out the hard way that the JLE had up and abandoned the Paris headquarters and taken up unofficial residence in England somewhere. And then Hawkmoth showed up. And of course, of fucking course, an old chinese man from the pacifistic organization that acted as a direct foil to the League where they grew up somehow decided that they, out of everyone in Paris, were the best people he could find to wield the power of tiny gods to save the city. 

Sure, he was right, but Damian chewed him a new asshole as soon they met for trusting complete unvetted strangers with the gods of creation and destruction. 

And now Marinette had finally managed to leak to Tim, who then spread the calculated slip of information to Bruce, that Paris had had a supervillain for the past few years and the JLE had been neglecting their jobs. Which turned into Batman setting up a meeting with Ladybug and Chat Noir (Damian had tried to tell everyone his name was Chance Noir, Dark Luck, NOT ‘chat noir,’ since the last thing he needed was to be associated with Selina in any way. Nobody listened, and now he was stuck with being called Chat Noir). They had a lovely discussion about all the shit Hawkmoth did, their lack of resources, and the lack of assistance/straight up refusal to believe their word that came from the JLE. 

Which led to Batman inviting Ladybug to meet the Justice League to debrief on the Paris situation. Damian had been invited as Chat Noir, but had taken the smart path and opted out. Now Marinette had to not only go to the Justice League as Ladybug, but also as Batman's daughter Hummingbird, who was being brought in for consultation along with Damian as Robin. 

“I’m gonna die again,” Marinette continued her catastrophizing, Tikki and Plagg sharing a glance at once another from their spot on her writing desk. “I’m gonna die of total embarrassment. Don’t bother resurrecting me Dami, I’m just gonna die all over again once Dad finds out who we are and kills me.” 

Damian snorted. “Hah. Father killing anything, good one,” he snarked back blandly. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re the planner and I’m the one with actual skill. You have the strangest ability when it comes to getting out of situations like these by the skin of your teeth,” Damian grinned at something on the screen of his Switch before continuing. “You’ll be fine. And if you sell me out, I’ll bury you myself.” 

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wanted their dad to find out that they were LAdybug and Chat noir, especially since they had already explained to him the basics of the source of their powers. They were both certain that Bruce would completely ignore how well they had been handling the situation on their own for almost five years and jump straight to the “my murderous children should not be left with the powers of destruction and creation at their fingertips,” line of thought. Bruce had never trusted them alone before, why now? 

“At least help me, shaqiq?” Marinette asked, walking over and plopping onto the ground next to her bed, so she could look straight into her twin’s bright green eyes. At first, he refused to even look at her, completely unmoved. Marinette hummed mischievously, a habit that was the source of her Gotham codename. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.” 

Damian finally huffed, scowling. “Fine.” 

He knew better than to doubt her. Marinette always got her way when she decided she was wronged and needed to even the score for something. Always. 

—* — * — * — * — *

Hummingbird. The smallest Bat, by far, and the fastest when it came to natural speed. Hard to spot, with the sole giveaway that a short playful hum could be heard if she thought she had her prey cornered. She was hardly ever wrong. 

She had also been temporarily retired as she and Robin moved to some undisclosed location to get away from the vigilante life for a while. Or so Batman said. And for the most part, aside from the occasional League gathering here or glimpse that they got of the two’s civilian personas if someone visited the manor while they were there, Robin and Hummingbird stayed retired. Heroes who knew them wondered if Robin had finally given up and settled down somehow, if he was even capable of it. And they all speculated that Hummingbird was so scarred from Robin’s death that she wouldn't ever be able to leave his side again, retired or not. 

 Seeing Hummingbird in her navy blue and black uniform, almost identical to her brother’s but for the thick navy blue scarf that covered her neck and lower face, everyone in the Justice League who knew her thought they were right. She stood there, older and only a little taller, never leaving Robin’s side as they traded secretive glances and hand signals only they understood. They didn’t make any attempt to stray from one another’s side. 

But Jon Kent, superboy and Damian’s oldest friend, was of a different mind. He had been by Marinette’s side after Damian died, and by both of theirs when he was brought back. This was not the same terrified dependence he had seen back then. His eyes narrowed. 

The twins were scheming, and nobody else would notice until it was too late. 

Quicker than they could blink, he was by their side with his trademark smile. “Hey guys! Long time no see!” 

They gave the half-kryptonian identical deadpan expressions, sighing in tandem. “You facetimed us last night. And you flew to Paris to visit us last week,” Damian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Despite us expressly telling you not to.” 

Jon shrugged. “If I listened to everything you two said all the time, we’d never have any fun. So, excited to meet this Ladybug girl? Dad says that your dad won’t tell him anything about her until she shows up.” 

Hummingbird and Robin traded looks before Marinette answered. “Not really. We see Ladybug in action in Paris all the time—”

“She even saved Marinette from an Akuma who was obsessed with wanting to date her,” Damian interrupted with an insufferable grin. Marinette elbowed him hard, making her brother wince before chuckling at her red face. 

“I could have saved myself just fine! It’s not my fault we have to lay low, or we might get kicked out of Paris for being past vigilantes!” Marinette argued, voice high as she protested how helpless Damian had made her sound. She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. Damian’s grin widened into a predatory smirk that showed off teeth.

“Oh? What about that one time that Tsurugi got akumatized, and Chat Noir had to save you because she wanted to duel you for the right to date me and you were cornered?” 

Marinette growled, throwing up her hands in frustration before smacking Damian’s shoulder angrily. He only laughed at her. “I’m leaving! Come find me when Ladybug finishes explaining the things we already know!” with that, a fuming and embarrassed Hummingbird stormed out of the room. 

“Huh,” Flash remarked, leaning against the wall. “She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. And she actually left your immediate vicinity. Willingly,” he remarked to Robin, who glared at the speedster. 

“It’s been almost six years. If you think my sister is weak enough to be that thoroughly encumbered by the past for so long, you are greatly underestimating her,” he looked around to see almost all of the gathered League members staring at him. He grit his teeth and looked over at his father. “When is this woman going to arrive, anyway? You’d think she would actually be on time.” 

Just then, a portal opened in the middle of the room and Ladybug walked through. Quickly shedding the brown costume that allowed her to teleport in, she was left in just her black and red-spotted combat suit. Seeing as they finally found out how to alter the costumes the Kwami gave them, Ladybug’s hair now sat in a braided bun on the crown of her head and her costume was made to look more like Nightwing’s with the ladybug symbol on her upper chest and between her shoulder blades on her back, with black gloves that reached up to her elbows and black knee-high boots with red stripes up the sides. 

The brightly colored heroine smiled, seeming to light up the room with cheer that nearly put Jon to shame (it took her awhile to perfect that particular smile. She actually based it off Jon himself, and Damian was impressed by how accurate she had been able to make it over time. Not that he would say as much out loud). 

That was when Diana started choking on thin air, and Damian and Marinette both realized that they had overlooked something rather major. 

Hippolyta had been a Ladybug. Diana had met Tikki. Diana knew how to see past Tikki’s glamour. 

At first, Ladybug tried to play it off. Maybe Diana would catch on and help her out. So she walked over, holding her hand out for Wonderwoman to shake and putting on another wide smile for good measure. 

“Oh my Kwamii! It is so good to finally meet you, Wonderwoman, Tikki told me so much about you and your mother! Would you like to talk later—”

“Marinette Wayne, how in Zeus’ name did you become the new Ladybug?” Wonderwoman instantly yelled, making Marinette wilt. Damian tried backing away slowly, only for Diana’s eyes to then shoot over to him and narrow dangerously. “And you! I knew I felt something weird, but now I can pinpoint it. You are wielding the Black Cat! One of you explain what is going on. Now.” 

Ladybug and Robin instantly looked away, getting ready to make a quick escape right as their father walked up behind Robin, putting a firm hand on his shoulders. As always when Batman smiled, it sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Marinette gulped a little. 

“I agree. Marinette, I forgot to tell you that we changed the locations of the League security cameras last night,” shit they were so busted. Bruce must have suspected them of something from the very beginning, stupid world’s greatest detective instincts— “But now that we have confirmed that my suspicions were correct, we can save that discussion for later. First, let’s debrief on the Paris situation like we agreed. Then, you two will explain why you decided not to tell me while you help each other clean the entire Batcave tonight.” 

Damian didn’t open his hand for the entire meeting. He and Marinette made eye contact as soon as everyone sat down for a suddenly very uneasy debrief, silently agreeing that they would not let their father take away their Miraculous. They finally had names and reputations of their own, away from the Batclan and their father’s influence. They had learned more about themselves and what they were capable of in those past years as Miraculous wielders than in all the years of the rest of their lives combined. They wouldn’t give it up, not even for Bruce’s approval. 

But when they got back to the Manor and began cleaning up the batcave as they had been ordered, they were surprised when Bruce made no mention of taking their jewelry back at all. And he stayed up with them, silently reviewing things on the Batcomputer as they cleaned. It could almost be considered family bonding. 

By the time the twins were done cleaning the sun was about to rise, and finally their father spoke up for the first time since they had begun their punishment chore. 

“I watched days worth of your Paris battles before going out to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir in person,” he said without ever turning around from his spot at the computer. “I was impressed. I still am. The teamwork was flawless, and the Parisian heroes never used deadly force. They even did their best to provide emotional support to the victims who were akumatized. I thought for sure at least one of you two would have been victims yourself, with all that you’ve been through. Anything can be a trigger for you, anything can make you vulnerable to Hawkmoth,” Bruce paused to take a sip of coffee. He didn’t have to look at his children’s reflections in the face of the Batcomputer to know they were drinking in every word he said. He did anyway, allowing a small smile that they couldn’t see to form on his lips. 

“I scoured through every akuma attack one by one, trying to find the one where one or both of you were the ones possessed. But I only found more reasons to be impressed by the heroes instead. By the time I was done looking through every scrap of video I could find, I had a feeling I knew who you were. Hearing your voices in person cemented it further, but I wanted video proof. So, knowing that Marinette would have forgotten about agreeing to accompany me to a JL meeting, I asked Ladybug to debrief us.” 

“You had us from the start,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. But Damian said nothing, eyes wide as he picked up on the nuances of what Bruce was saying that Marinette was too tired to catch on to. 

“I’m proud of you two.” 

Then, even Marinette froze. The twins had identical expressions of shock on their faces, and Bruce finally turned around to look at them properly. For a long while, the three of them only made silent eye contact as dozens of emotions flew through the air silently, but understood. Then Damian and Marinette straightened up just and silently. Damian nodded to his father, Marinette gave him a vulnerable little smile, and then they both backed out and went to head to sleep. 

And once they were gone, Bruce sighed in content. Seems his meet-the-Justice-League plan worked out perfectly. He had finally managed to say something right to his two most troublesome children, for the first time. He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dark bat-infested cave ceiling as one more tiny grin played on his face, a little melancholy this time. 

Guess they never needed him to help them find their inner hero, after all. They had become even better at the whole hero thing than he was, and all on their own. Bruce closed his eyes, not noticing when Alfred draped a blanket over his body and left the Cave with a soft chuckle. 

--*--*--*--*--*

This sucked, but I wanted to give you guys something. So. here you go I guess? 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 142

Another late chapter... I’m really batting a thousand lately, seems like.

So, work has been insane, but @baelpenrose reminds me to post when I forget, thankfully. And this is SUCH a fun chapter.  I hope you all enjoy!

I dropped into a seat in Mess Hall Seven with a groan, so exhausted that I barely managed to get soup and a grilled cheese from the console.  Tyche yawned and nodded in agreement before poking at her sushi bowl idly. It was six Von-days after the last drill, and between coordinating increased training schedules for Shelters Three and Seven and helping Charly plan kink-night at the Undine, we were wiped.

“People are ungrateful,” she muttered before managing to barely balance a piece of salmon into her mouth.

I muttered something that hopefully sounded like agreement before I scooped up a bite of my soup with one wedge of sandwich, too lazy to even bother with the spoon. “Remind me why we don’t have Vati and Hannah handling the practice schedules?”

“Because they are handling the extra evacuation drills with Jokul and Arthur.”

Personally, I thought they were getting the better end of this deal, but since the raging success of their first Food Festival, it really was only fair. “And the relocations for those who need it,” I admitted. “Except mine.”

“Conor may actually strangle one of them if any of your plants don’t make it,” she pointed out, gesturing with her chopsticks for emphasis after having given up and using her fingers to eat her lunch. “Not to mention I wouldn’t wish packing with Maverick on anyone.”

“He’s letting me pack the books and textiles.” I shrugged in acceptance after taking another bite of soup-dipped sandwich.

We picked at our food in silence after that, grateful for something resembling a reprieve, before we were interrupted by a flurry of grey hair and enthusiasm landing in one of the nearby chairs with a heavy thunk. “Good afternoon, Madams Reid.”

“Hey, Jokul,” I muttered as Tyche just waggled her fingers at him. I really think I liked it better when he was trying to kill me. Right now, I might even let him do it.

“I know you are both on your meal period, but I wanted to test the waters on potentially scheduling a community activity,” he rushed out.

Tyche guarded her lunch with an almost feral aggression, having heard what happened the last time Jokul had interrupted my lunch. “That should really be something you run by Al-”

“Worthington, yes, I know,” he interrupted. “However, I know you are both quite busy and I wanted to be respectful of your time. As such, I will make this as brief as - ow!” He snatched his hand back away from the other half of my sandwich, rubbing where I had slammed my spoon down onto it.

“I have no idea where the food stealing comes from, but don’t,” I warned him.

“Rude, got it,” he nodded in a terrifying impression of Charly’s normal demeanor. “As I was saying, I recently learned a new type of game from Terra, from the Before.  It involves teamwork, and encourages creativity and escapism, and I think it would be a very good community activity - “

I surrendered to my urge to groan. “We are not doing a redux of Settlers of Cattan. Arthur stabbed someone last time.”

“I didn’t press charges…” Jokul pouted, glancing at the scar on the back of his wrist briefly. “Besides, it was only a fork. Clearly he didn’t mean it, there were four knives in arms reach counting my own.”

Tyche cocked an eyebrow at me. Seriously?

I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose in response. Yep.

“So what game is it this time?” I asked hesitantly.

I was reward-bombarded with a grin. “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons! Somewhat like a video game, but with more people, and using writing implements and paper. Oh, and different kinds of dice, very important. One person is something of the narrator, to give the game a kind of structure, while the other players act as characters in the game… Ivan introduced me to it, and it is quite challenging with the right people.  The dungeon master - that is the narrator - has to re-evaluate the story based on the actions of the other players, but the players themselves don’t know what the dungeon master is going to do. It is very much a social diversion, and there are many classes….”

As Jokul continued to gush, he was rather oblivious to the fact that Tyche and I were stuffing our faces as quickly as possible to avoid interrupting him or laughing. We had both played when we were younger - in fact, we had been introduced to the game by our mother.  There had even been a very overwhelming pop-culture movement in our youth around the game, which further emphasized just how far out in the boonies Jokul had grown up.  As shocking as it was that he was just now discovering the game, it came at exactly zero surprise that he enjoyed it so much - it was right up his alley of interests.

About fifteen minutes and two more grilled cheeses into his retelling of the campaign he was part of, Charly and Arthur squeezed in with us, their own lunches in tow.  As seemed to be a growing trend, Arthur reached over and snagged one of my sandwiches before I could react, shoving half of it in his face.

That was apparently enough to snap Jokul out of his story. “Hey! Why didn’t you hit him?”

“His deathwish, not my problem,” I shrugged.

Around the remains of my lunch, Arthur managed to enunciate. “Told you, Noah fissed the dairy allergy.”

“Bleargh,” I gagged comically. “It’s okay, think I’m done anyway.”

Jokul’s hand swatted Arthur’s out of the way to steal the rest of my food. “As I was saying, Ivan was quite clever with his resolution to deal subdural damage to the player who was very much ruining the storyline by insisting his character was immune to magical sleep…”

“Oooooo! I love tabletops!” Charly squealed, bouncing in her seat. “What setting are you playing in right now?  My favorite was always Exalted…”

“Miss Harper, I think we are discussing different activities.” Jokul sounded supremely confused, but my heart broke a bit.

Arthur shook his head. “Maybe not Exalted, but what about Ebberron? Swordhaven, maybe?  Just tell me it isn’t Ravenloft… I know you haven’t been fucking around in a Dark Sun, but I beg you to tell me you aren’t playing Ravenloft.”

“I’m not sure what those are… Ivan introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. There is only one setting.”

“So… Greyhawk or homebrew,” Arthur nodded. “Best place to start, get the basics down.”

Jokul’s head pivoted toward me and Tyche, squinting in annoyance. “You knew, didn’t you? And you let me prattle on…”

“You were so… happy….” I explained plaintively. “We didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Tyche nodded. “We both remember how fun that first campaign is. And honestly? We’ve been having a kind of crappy day.  It was nice to hear someone be excited about something that isn’t work related.”

“But I came to you to discuss making it a ship activity…”

“Originally, yeah,” I shrugged. “That was maybe the first thirty seconds.  After that, you were doing what literally every tabletop roleplaying person has done since the beginning of time… telling stories about the fun, dramatic, and frankly stupid shit the people in your party are doing.”

“Says the two-foot eight halfling rogue,” Arthur scowled.

“I rolled it at random, it was fifteen years ago, get over it!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “At least I wasn’t mated to a frickin’ deity.”

Charly giggled uncontrollably while Jokul goggled at us. “Exalted is broken in all the fun ways.”

“You literally sacrificed, and I quote ‘all of your fucks to give’, for necromancy.”

“That was your idea!”

Jokul turned toward Tyche, waiting for her to say something. She just held up her hands defensively. “I was a murder monk-bunny.”

Arthur snorted. “You were the Black Rabbit of Inle….”

“Well if my wife would have just stopped dying…!”

“At least none of us were the Platinum Knight who pissed his pants every time he confronted his favored enemy,” I laughed. “He never did live that one down. Every. Single. Dragon. He would crit fail his roles.”

“Oh, please,” Arthur intoned drily. “Did I ever tell you about the time one of my players managed to make ‘Notice me, Senpai’ into the most terrifying in-universe warcry imaginable?”

Charly choked before swatting his shoulder. “Not in front of my pasta. Please.”

Jokul, however, looked both horrified and intrigued, egging Arthur on. “Barbarian whose entire clan worshipped a god named The Senpai…. Just imagine, a barbarian in a rage, bellowing ‘NOTICE ME, SENPAI!!!’ before just scything down thirty men with a broadsword.”

At this point, I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my face. “Please, please tell me there was a kilt and pigtails involved….”

Jokul touched his own hair, before straightening as seriously as possible. “They are warrior’s braids, Councillor.”

That was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just put my head down on my folded arms and waiting to either pass out from laughing so hard or from exhaustion.  A few deep breaths and a spinning head later, I managed to wipe my face on my sleeve and realized the conversation was continuing without me.  Just as I was clearing my throat to let Jokul know he should be fine to start organizing something and to send me a rough outline, Arthur dealt the final blow.

Leaning over, he whispered over my shoulder. “By the way, the barbarian’s name was Drystan of the Doki-doki tribe.”

I was proud that I managed to get up and dash into the hallway before collapsing against the wall in maniacal laughter.  I barely registered Hannah’s voice behind me asking everyone at the table if I needed medical assistance, and that did not help.

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[eggtoasties]

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha / Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Summary: He saw her throw a man into a table and now he's entranced.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744067

_____________________________

He’s off the mission roster for two weeks.

Tsunade said, “Consider it a vacation, Uchiha,” while massaging her nose bridge.

Apparently, one person shouldn’t voluntarily accept three back to back solo missions running from Earth, Lightning, then back to Earth country. She had mumbled something about “disrespect for authority,” “emotional constipation,” and “generations of inbreeding,” along with other things he couldn’t quite catch when he came back with his chakra dangerously low and slightly feverish. He ignored her death glares while she filled out his medical leave forms and flicked through his mission reports.

Despite what Tsunade thought about his work-life balance he saw it as a healthy exercise in assessing one’s physical and mental limitations…for science.

He shifted his weight side to side and assessed her. Her trademark pigtails draped over her shoulders and her green haori was draped on the back of her heavy office chair. She had one hand braced under her chin while she diligently signed documents and hummed at his mission details. He stared at a chip in the wooden floorboards beneath his feet and scrunched his nose at the state of his sandals.

“Y’know, Tsunade-sama, as the most prolific, intelligent, and innovative medical ninja in all the great nations,” he began, ignoring the way her pen cracked in her grip, “Shouldn’t you have a professional stake in knowing just how much one of your elite shinobi can handle?” He flashed her a crooked grin as her brow twitched.

Tsunade placed her pen down and sat back heavily into her chair, steepling her fingers to her forehead then looking into the rafters of her office. Undeterred, he continued.

“Surely as the Hokage—as my Hokage—as my favorite Hokage,” he blubbered on, gesturing with his hands, “Shouldn’t you be proud and relieved that I learned that one can actually survive on Lightning country’s bitter reed roots for like, a week straight?”

Barring of course, the violent color it turned his urine, the incredibly vivid dreams he had after about 3 days, and the subtle auditory hallucinations after 5 days, which he coincidentally forgot to tell his prolific, intelligent, and most favorite Hokage.

He dodged a paper weight that ripped him from his musings on the potential recreational uses of said plant root as she barked at him to go to the hospital.

The last place he wanted to go was the hospital.

He smiled at her, all dimples and pretty straight teeth. “Tsunade-sama, did I mention your beauty and graciousness?” putting heavy emphasis on ‘beauty.’ “I must’ve because a little birdie at the gates told me about a B ranked escort mission deep into Wind country next week that I would just love to—” he dodged a stapler aimed for his face.

“Get out of my office.”

“Hokage-sama—”

“Your initial priority was your mission in Earth,” she looked at him pointedly. “I gave the second one in Lightning because I figured that would give you enough time to soul search or find the missing braincells your ancestors must have scattered across the elemental Nations throughout the decades,” she waved her hands absentmindedly. “But I guess no luck there since you conned a chunin squad out of their reconnaissance mission in Earth.” He internally winced at the sharp tone of her voice.

He had happened to run across a very green looking chunin squad at the border of Fire country and told them that he was headed that way anyways and that they should head back to Konoha and request a more exciting mission. It didn’t take much persuading once they realized they were talking to shunshin no Shisui, and what idiots would openly defy a legendary shinobi?

“Shisui!” Tsunade hissed, “Are you even listening to me? Since you seemed so eager to take missions well beneath your skill level, I can arrange it so you’re on D levels for the next month—don’t give me that look, we’re in peace time—if I actually needed you, I would’ve sent you a summons but being your gracious Hokage,” she rolled her eyes, “I let you play precocious genin.” The contempt was dripping from her voice while he stared into her Byakugou seal.

“Listen,” she sighed, resting her arms on her desk, “Rest and don’t go overboard on training. I’d force you to stay overnight at the hospital just so you wouldn’t even think about expending chakra, but Sakura’s out on a mission,” that tidbit made his ears perk. “And I don’t get paid enough to drop kick you back into a hospital bed when you eventually sneak out—”

“—well then, I’ll get going, thank you Hokage-sama,” he said with a bow, shunshining away from her death glare.

Tsunade sighed, hands twitching to reach for one of the ceramic bottles hidden away in a drawer. Instead, she braced her hands on her desk and pushed, swiveling herself towards the large office windows. Staring at the Hokage monument, she allowed herself a wistful smile, remembering the warmth of young love in the pale sky and emerald trees.

Shisui stared at his ceiling after his check up at the hospital and flirting his way out of staying overnight on the account of his abs being very much intact despite poor nutrition—“Yes, could you please check them?” He grins at the memory of the flustered nurse, fondly thinking of the verbal lashing he’d get from Sakura if she caught wind.

She’d tell him that he needs to stop terrorizing the nurses so he could heal and he’d tell her he’d stay overnight only if she’d be his personal medic. Or, you know, he’d offer with a sly grin, she could play live in nurse. Shisui, she’d say exasperatedly. He could imagine the way she’d pinch her nose bridge and run a hand through her pretty hair. He’d throw his hands up in concession after she sized him up wondering if she should beat him into submission with her tiny fists.

He’d tell her to lower her weapons of mass destruction and take her small hands in his larger ones, thumb tracing over her worn knuckles.

Sighing and ignoring the ache in his chest, Shisui grabbed one of the many magazines scattered on his coffee table and mindlessly flipped through it. His feet tapped out an irregular rhythm while he glossed over the words on the page, thinking of the past year.

He and Genma had just returned from a grueling undercover mission on the border of Grass and Waterfall. The duo ambled into the bar, bones weary, and aching for a drink. They eased themselves at the bar front, sipping on drinks that bit at the back of the throat.

Appreciatively inhaling the spicy sweet aroma, he finally made eye contact with Sasuke, who was strangely handling a large stack of ryo in one hand and a notebook in the other.

Towards the back of the room, a small crowd of jounin and ANBU regulars were circled around a single table. Sasuke’s pink-haired teammate sat at one end and gestured at the empty seat across from her. Behind Sakura, other members of her graduating class were clapping Sakura’s shoulders and laughing amongst themselves. Sakura said something teasing—Shisui could tell by the way her eyebrow gracefully sloped up and the impish smile that graced her face. Sasuke apparently backed her up, haughtily puffing his chest out and crossing his shoulders, slanting his chin at the empty seat across from his teammate.

Clearly goading the group of older shinobi, a veteran, Shisui remembered as being exceptionally fond of decapitating his enemies by hand, swiveled the empty chair backwards and sat heavily, elbow anchored at the table, formally accepting Sakura’s challenge. The shinobi tauntingly fluttered his fingers and subtly flexed his arm, causing his ANBU tattoo to ripple.

To Shisui’s surprise, Sasuke smiled. With teeth. Shisui, who had a lifetime’s experience decoding stoic Uchiha mannerisms—and especially Itachi and Sasuke’s micro-expressions, read Sasuke’s smile as a feral, shit eating grin. Sasuke spread his arms wide, like a ring master at his very own circus, and smirked as the older group whispered amongst themselves. Shisui watched as Sasuke meticulously took notes in his notebook and collected ryo from the shinobi.

The members of his graduating class positively leered at the older group, their eyes blood thirsty.

“Hideki probably shouldn’t have been promoted to ANBU captain if he’s stupid enough to think he’ll win against Sakura-chan,” Genma murmured around his senbon.

“Hideki’s arm is the size of both our heads combined—and your head’s fucking massive,” Shisui snickered. “I know Sakura-san’s the Godaime’s apprentice but I thought the Godaime’s strength was hereditary?”

Genma turned his head from side to side, sighing at the way his vertebrae cracked, “Nah, you’re not in the village long enough to know anything anymore. But Sakura-chan’s basically a mini Tsunade, but just a little more evil.”

Shisui started at that, trying to recall what he knew about Sakura.

Pink. Massive crush on Sasuke that apparently dissipated if the way Sasuke always had giant bruises, angrily grumbling Sakura’s name, was anything to go by. One of the head medics at a ridiculously young age. He knew she was strong. Little Sasuke’s indignation at his “weak” teammate gradually turned to respect and trust throughout the years and Shisui knew that the Godaime wouldn’t take just anyone as her apprentice. But Tsunade-sama strong?

“I thought she was a medic.”

Genma snorted.

Shisui lazily leaned back against the bar. His eyes traced over Sakura’s arms—corded with muscle, but nowhere near her opponent’s. Her hand was consumed by Hideki’s, her visible four fingers hardly taking up half of his hand.

Channeling chakra to their ears so they could catch any exchanges, Genma and Shisui listened to Hideki coo at Sakura.

“Try not to cry when you lose, petal, I’d hate to see you upset.”

Sakura smiled, and loosened her shoulders.

As Sasuke finished writing his notes and collecting his ryo, he counted down from three with a gleam in his eye that made Shisui shift uncomfortably. At Sasuke’s “Go,” nothing happened. Hideki’s friends stared at his clasped hand in confusion which quickly changed to incredulousness.

Sakura’s grin, stretched impossibly wider as she tipped her head back and licked her lips.

“Don’t hold back your tears, petal, I love seeing grown men cry.”

Her hand slammed forward and through the table, flinging Hideki off his chair into the debris and woodchips. He laid sprawled across the floor, looking up at Sakura dazedly. Sakura responded by resting her cheek against a fist and pouting.

“And here I thought you’d be a little more of a challenge. Sad”

With one half of the crowd cheering and whooping and the other half looking part disbelieving and part terrified, Sasuke promptly handed Sakura a chunk of her winnings and flung an arm across her shoulders for post-win gloating.

Shisui tried not to let the surprise show on his face but apparently failed to do so as Genma snorted, “Told you so.” Not only was he surprised at what must have been a fraction of her strength, but Shisui’s mind was reeling at Sasuke’s outward fondness for someone other than his mother and apparent talent as a fucking bookmaker.

As the commotion died down, the crowd parted as Sakura made her way towards the bar.

“Hope you didn’t wound his pride too much Sakura-chan, a little unbecoming for grown men to cry at a bar, no?” Genma said, while handing her a drink.

“It’s been a busy week for me, I had to fulfill my monthly ‘make men cry’ quota somehow, right?” Sakura responded, taking a greedy sip.

Genma moved his senbon from one side to the other. “Are Hatake’s tears not enough? Heard you actually get him to go to post-mission health checks on the regular now.”

She rolled her eyes and abandoned her straw to take a deep swig of her drink. As if realizing Shisui’s presence for the first time she jerked her head towards him.

“Oh hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you Shisui-san, I’ve heard so much about you—I’m guessing your guys’ mission went okay?” she asked while looking at them up and down, assessing both their physical states.

“Sakura-san,” Shisui clucked, “Are you checking us out? I’ll have you know that Genma is much older than you think.” He ignored Genma’s side glare in favor of catching Sakura’s amused snort. “And I didn’t realize Sasu-chan talked about me, that is so adorable, I hope it was all good things? Shisui flirted.

Surprising Shisui, Sakura rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Fuck you man, you wish you’d look half as good as me in a few years, just because you think you’re above daily SPF doesn’t mean your skin’s not going to age like a leather glove. You don’t hide under your ANBU mask—” Shisui glared harshly and elbowed Genma in the stomach, “—enough for the sun to not be damaging, Uchiha genes be damned.” Genma managed to wheeze out.

“Relax Shisui-san,” Sakura said placatingly, “Your ANBU status is unclassified information for me. Also,” she leaned in towards him, “It’s not as if the whole village doesn’t know, she dropped to a theatrical whisper, “That Uchiha Shisui is ANBU.”

Blinking at her, but conceding to her logic, Shisui apologetically patted his partner’s shoulder.

“Also,” Sakura quipped, “I was the one who specifically chose you two as duo to infiltrate and wrote the tactical plan in your mission scroll.”

Shisui’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re above Sakura-chan’s tactical planning,” Genma said. “She totally predicted that the target’s estranged stepson was going to come out of the woodworks in some shady way,” Sakura visibly brightened, “Thanks for including that theory in Addendum C, Sakura-chan—and like, isn’t her handwriting so much better than half the Nara’s in tactics?” Genma babbled animatedly.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Shisui said, “So you’re telling me you’re a top tier medic, Hokage’s apprentice, an active juonin—who has to deal with Sasuke’s mood swings nonetheless—and part of the tactics squad?”

“Yup,” she responded, popping the ‘p.’ “But I don’t go on every single Team 7 mission anymore. Not that I don’t love them, but rasengan-ing and chidori-ing your way through battle plans gets a little tedious and a gal needs variety,” she joked, waving her hand towards the back of the room where Sasuke and Naruto were apparently haggling over the worth of the destroyed table with the owner of the bar. “Also, I’m not formally in tactics. Shikaku-san’s been my informal strategy mentor for a few years.” She shrugged and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

“I mean you spend so much time in the office, Shikaku’s basically like your work husband, ne?” Genma smirked into his drink, “Or is it little Shikaku junior who taught you the ropes?”

Shisui ignored Sakura’s withering stare. “Godaime’s apprentice, Hatake’s student, Shikaku’s…mentee.” He let out a low whistle, “Looks like you basically meet all the requirements to be future Hokage.”

“Too bad Sakura-chan has a temper just like Tsunade-sama’s; the council members would gouge their hearts out,” Genma chuckled.

“Maybe you should spend more time in the field instead of on Hokage guard rotations, then you wouldn’t be talking so much shit.” Sakura’s lip curled into a small smile, despite her outward annoyance.

“Ooh don’t forget Ibiki, he and Sakura are like two peas in a pod. It’s horrible.”

“Wait, so how do you know this idiot?” Shisui interrupted, gesturing at Genma.

“Well,” Genma started, while motioning to the bartender for another drink, “It all started in the coat closet of Hokage tower, some filing boxes, and a leather—”

“Shut up Genma,” Sakura slapped the back of his head. “I was spending a lot of time at the tower, studying, doing paperwork, running errands, that Genma and I just started chatting. Then I was placed on some missions with him and that’s basically it.” Sakura shrugged and reached over to steal Genma’s new drink from him.

“Plus,” Genma added, pouting and making grabby motions at his stolen beverage, “Tag-team bullying Kakashi with her is a whole new level of fun.”

Sakura giggled and Shisui drowned in it.

Although wildly busy with ANBU missions, clan meetings, and his gradual transition to commander of the Police Force, he had decided then to make an active effort to drop in Sakura’s life from time to time. Afterall, he didn’t realize Konoha still churning out little prodigies since well, Itachi.

Several weeks later, he found himself wandering the streets of the village after a mission. A straightforward solo assassination. He was in and out with no trace. Although the post-mission physical evaluation was only semi-mandatory for shinobi that Tsunade trusted to seek care, he figured he could pop in to see if Sakura was busy.

He went into her office through the window and saw her at her desk. She was leaning back in her chair, exhaustion radiating off her as she greedily sucked at a pouch, fisting the small bag to get every drop.

“Ohoho is Haruno-sensei drinking on the job? Guess you really are a mini Tsunade, but isn’t it a bit early to turn to alcohol so young?” He teased, although he walked towards her with worry clear on his face, though she couldn’t see with her eyes closed in weariness.

“It’s applesauce, idiot.”

“Huh?”

“It’s applesauce. In a squeezy pouch.” She cracked an eye open, “Did you want one?”

“You seem hungry.” He eyed the four empty pouches on her desk. “Why not eat at the cafeteria?” He ran his hand through his curls, assessing her slight under eye circles and raw hands.

“You know what they say about hospital food,” she said dryly.

He looked at her blankly.

“God you need to stay local for longer periods of time.” She sighed.

“Would you like it if I did?”

“Well apparently someone needs to civilize you.”

Shisui couldn’t help the heat that crept up his neck at her answer and he looked at her in uncharacteristic silence.

Taking a deep breath and releasing, Sakura hunched over her desk, bracing her chin under her interlocked fingers. “Barging into someone’s private office through the window is a bit rude, don’t you think, Shisui-san?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and he internally stammered. She looked at him as if he were a lab specimen, and he swore he felt like he was in an interrogation cell. “Now I know Sasuke has the social capabilities of a rock,” Sakura continued, “But Itachi and Mikoto-san are very polite so you must have been taught manners at some point.”

“I didn’t realize you were so close to the Uchihas, Sakura-sensei,” he said lightly. He wracked through his brain to think of any instances of pink hair in the Uchiha district, but he was hardly ever home. His time in Konoha was largely spent working at the Police Force or with Itachi and Itachi never mentioned Sakura becoming such a familiar fixture in his life that she referred to him without an honorific.

Sakura rolled her eyes and produced another pouch. “I’ve known Sasuke for over a decade—and have the privilege of being one of his only two friends.” She shook her head fondly. “Also as one of the head medics, an active jounin, and administrative queen,” she said sarcastically, “Don’t you think,” she paused as she uncapped her snack. “That I would get to know a few Uchihas?”

Although Shisui was the one standing, he felt as though she were peering down at him, flicking him around in a mental boxing ring and he was losing. Badly.

“Ah, sorry Sakura-sensei,” he said laughing, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the sentimental keepsakes at the top of her desk. “Maybe I was hoping that me and Sasuke would be the only Uchiha in your life.” He gave her a crooked grin and was met with a deadpan stare. Shifting on his feet he heaved a weak chuckle. “Maybe I got hit in the head a little too hard on this last mission, I can go, I’m sure you’re very,” he gestured at the small mountain of pouch corpses on her desk, “Busy.”

He made the hand sign to shunshin into a dark corner where he could bang his head against a wall in embarrassment and shame when she suddenly appeared in front of him. Her speed taking him by surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” She gently grasped his shoulder to make him crouch down to her height and raised a glowing green palm to his head. “That should have been the first thing you led with.” He felt the cool rush of her chakra at the base of his head which did little to quell the heat rising to his cheeks. “Also, the protocol is for injured ANBU to check in from the side annex,” Sakura continued angrily.

He took in her furrowed brows and the way her deep green eyes narrowed in concentration. Her soft apricot skin he noted, had a dusting of freckles across her delicate nose bridge, and he caught a sliver of pink as she wet her lips. His mind began to work overtime as he realized she would find out he had no injuries.

“You’ve sustained absolutely no damage. Guess this is another thing you and Sasuke actually have in common,” she mentioned wryly.

He looked at her questioningly, still bent down towards her, wondering if he’d be able to smell her shampoo this close.

“Incredibly thick skulls,” she waved her hands absentmindedly.

Shisui stifled an indignant choke, as she continued while walking back to her desk. “So, why did you happen to randomly come through my window?” she said, as she settled back into the leather armchair. “I’m on the fifth floor and there’s no balcony. Surely you didn’t just…find yourself here.”

“No you’re right,” Shisui said, hands fiddling with a knickknack at the front of her desk, “I wanted to know if you,” he paused as she stared at his hands. Ah, he thought. Another social faux paus. “Wanted to…” he trailed off a little unsure and stared at her desk then at her Byakugo seal. “Get food?” He mentally slapped himself.

Sakura snorted. Shisui was beginning to hate being on the receiving end of her snorts.

“Nice save. I guess sustaining myself on applesauce probably isn’t the best way to go about life, huh?” She gathered her stash and dumped it into the wastebasket at the side of her desk and began to tidy the mountains of paperwork and files. “Sorry, but I have a surgery in twenty minutes I need to prep for, maybe another time Shisui-san. Unless you want to state your original purpose I’m afraid you’ll have to get out before you watch me go through a sixth pouch,” she said cheekily.

“Would you want to spar sometime,” Shisui blurted out.

“Ah, another Uchiha to beat up,” she smiled wickedly. “Are you sure though? Just ask your cousin, I beat the shit out of him every other week.”

“Sasu-chan’s strong, but he’s still learning,” he smirked. “I’m sure you’ll find me significantly more interesting.” He said confidently. Finally he thought. Easing his posture and leisurely putting his hands in his pockets while staring down at her. One topic of conversation where he wasn’t constantly putting his foot in his mouth.

“No,” she said slowly. “I mean your other cousin, Itachi. I beat the shit out of Sasuke like every day at training,” she scoffed. “His brother on the other hand is a little more… interesting.”

Shisui gaped. He hadn’t realized that Itachi had regular spars with anyone besides him and whatever team Itachi was assigned to. Shisui narrowed his eyes at the double life his cousin has been seemingly keeping secret.

Ripping him from his thoughts, Sakura got up and shuffled a few files underneath her arm. “I’ve got to go to the OR,” she explained. “That stands for operating room, since apparently you spend so little time in hospitals,” she said as she walked past him.

He sniffed at that.

“But if you’re available, we can spar this Sunday afternoon—I prefer the Uchiha training ground a kilometer away from the abandoned storehouse, but let me know what works for you,” Sakura said as she left Shisui standing in the middle of her office with a wave.

Once the door clicked shut he stared at the empty space at her desk. He barked out a disbelieving laugh and wrung his hands through his hair and paced in circles. He glanced around her office, noting the touches of personality between massive tomes of medical textbooks and scrolls.

A recent picture of team 7 on her desk, an orange throw blanket folded neatly at the end of the little gray couch tucked into the corner of the room. Little wooden figurines sat on her bookshelf, scrolls of traditional black ink art on her walls, a—was that a ceremonial Uchiha fan?

It was only their second meeting and she managed to knock him off balance once again.

She couldn’t make their Sunday spar, Sasuke relayed to Shisui, when his older cousin was prowling around his home looking for Itachi. She’d been sent on a diplomatic mission to Suna and it would take two weeks, Sasuke explained. After his curt explanation, Sasuke assessed Shisui and after a beat, narrowed his eyes at him.

Amused, Shisui poked at Sasuke’s cheek earning him a glare.

“What’s wrong Sasu-chan, jealous your teammate’s bored of you and wants to spar with stronger, more handsome Uchiha?” Shisui taunted.

At the insinuation that he was weak, and the unmentioned fact that Shisui was comparing Sasuke to Itachi, Sasuke bristled.

“Tch, it’s your broken bones, Shisui.”

“Who breaks bones during a spar?”

“Annoying medics.” Sasuke responded with an eye roll.

“Hm,” Shisui hummed and tipped his head back towards the sun. The pleasant warmth made him sigh and he closed his eyes to the sounds of tinkling wind chimes and distant children laughing. The back porch of the head family’s home opened into a serene garden. A sprawling tree that Itachi and Shisui used sit under while drinking tea sat next to a small koi pond where Sasuke would amuse himself by poking at the fish when he was younger.

He looked to the slightly open screen doors of the back porch and remembered why he came.

“Where’s Itachi, what’s he up to—do you know?”

“Making food with Kaa-san.”

“Ever the conversationalist, Sasuke. Did ‘Tachi and Mikoto Oba-san banish you to the back because you’re going through a hormonal spike?”

Sasuke gestured at the broom in his hand in obvious explanation. “Tch. I think they’re talking about their hair.”

Shisui laughed and Sasuke quirked his lip.

Sasuke and Shisui headed inside and heard the scrape of metal spoons against bowls and light music in the background.

“Coconut oil really increased the thickness of my hair and was an effective detangler. It’s unfortunate it’s only readily available in Suna. The import taxes make it overly expensive here.”

Mikoto hummed. “Well if it’s that effective I don’t mind trying it out, did you try the avocado mask I put in your bathroom?”

Shisui and Sasuke failed to cover up their snickers and were met with a menacing, spoon-wielding Mikoto.

“Now, I don’t want to hear anything from two boys who won’t put on sunscreen unless I tell them to. Sasuke,” Mikoto clucked, “Do you even exfoliate when I remind you to?”

Itachi laughed into his tea as Sasuke turned pink at his mother’s admonishing.

Wiping his hands on his apron, which Shisui amusedly noted was a pastel yellow with white trimming, Itachi turned back to scoop meat lightly in the middle of the circular dumpling wrapper.

“I asked Sakura to bring back coconut oil when she returns from her diplomatic meeting.”

“Nii-san you need to stop requesting random things from her, she’s not you courier,” Sasuke countered, taking a seat across the table where his brother and mother were working.

“She’s actually the one who offered and the one who first told me about coconut oil. Apparently,” Itachi picked at imaginary lint on his sleeve, “Hyuuga Neji-san gave her some…unsolicited advice,” he finished wryly.

Mikoto chuckled when Sasuke glared at the dumplings Mikoto was delicately pinching at the mention of Neji.

“What’s wrong, Sasu-chan,” Shisui sing-songed, throwing his arm across an indignant Sasuke, “Jealous of Neji-san? He does have pretty hair. By the way,” he said, watching Itachi’s hands, “Since when have you and Sakura-san been so close?”

Sasuke shoved Shisui off of him and scoffed. “That pompous stick up his a—sorry Kaa-san—was a dick—ah, sorry—to Sakura. And he’s not even that good looking.” Sasuke finished with a sniff and an apologetic smile towards his mother.

“And when did you and Sakura-san become friends?” Shisui repeated himself to Itachi, not missing the way his Aunt and Sasuke glanced at each other.

“She’s Sasuke and Kakashi’s teammate,” Itachi responded slowly. “Plus, she accompanies me to the sweet shops and bakeries you and Sasuke refuse to try,” he added with a slight pout which Mikoto frowned at and Sasuke looked up exasperatedly.

Shisui chuckled at his cousin’s sweet tooth. “So, how did you become friends?” He tried again.

Sasuke looked at Shisui disgusted. “She’s my teammate,” he hissed.

Shisui ignored him and looked innocently at Itachi, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes. Mikoto giggled at their antics.

“Shisui, are you interested in Sakura-chan?” she questioned eagerly.

“Obaa-san, I saw her throw a man into a table a few weeks ago,” he recalled excitedly, leaning in towards the table. “And then she told me she beats the shit—ah whoops, sorry—out of Sasuke and Itachi on the regular, how could I not be interested?”

Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke simultaneously raised an eyebrow at him and cocked their heads to the side. Creepy, Shisui internally shivered.

“Hn.”

“Are you…jealous, ‘Tachi?” Shisui asked incredulously.

“Tch,” Sasuke responded.

“God, I give up,” Shisui wailed to the bemusement of his family members and reached over to help Mikoto with the dumplings only to have Sasuke slap his hand away.

“Get away from those, you fold the ugliest dumplings.” Shisui gaped at his younger cousin in disbelief. “We’re freezing these for Sakura when she comes back—idiot never has real food in her fridge—don’t touch them,” Sasuke finished with a warning as Itachi nodded along with his brother.

Chuckling, Mikoto continued to expertly pinch the edges of the dumplings and absentmindedly hummed to herself. She drew up a mental Punnett square and slightly frowned at the low odds of having a pink-haired Uchiha baby.

[bts-roses]

Spilling Coffee | 1

➼ summary: You’ve always prided yourself in being a naturally graceful and reliable person. So an internship at BigHit seemed like a walk in the park. That is, until a certain goof slide-kicks you off your feet and makes your life a whole lot harder.

/

Namjoon is a misunderstood klutz and y/n thinks too much.

➼ pairing: idol!namjoon x intern!reader

➼ genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), idolverse

➼ word count: 3,700

| next

‣

You have always been proud of your natural grace. Throughout your life, it’s granted you the title of being the responsible and reliable one. The one to do the important jobs. You were always the child the teacher would pick to fill a glass of water up for the paintbrushes during art class. You would do that with a smug grin on your face, holding a big ass jar of water with both of your tiny hands. You would hand it to the teacher, whip your pigtails as you turn around and walk back to your seat looking at your jealous classmates like hell yeah I just did that, you bitches could never.

So naturally, finding out you were about to intern in a big entertainment company, you just knew you were going to unquestionably nail it. Being responsible for mundane tasks like going on coffee runs or carrying boxes to different places? Uhh, you lived for that shit.

Obviously, these weren’t the only tasks and they were definitely not going to help you in the long run of your dream profession. But being able to put down that you received work experience from Big Hit Entertainment sure was. And there was an opportunity to get a job there after your internship! And the internship pays really well! And apparently the food in their canteen was pretty good! In conclusion, it was a win-win situation all around. And how hard could it be?

The answer to that was hard. Very fucking hard.

‣

Namjoon has always been in awe of how clumsy he actually was. Even his bandmates wonder how such an intelligent, grown man can be such a dumbass. Whenever he tried to fix something? Boom, it instantly got 10x worse. His fans even call him the God of Destruction. He would be offended by the nickname, but he can’t hate the truth. And the title is pretty badass if you think about it.

He was more of the kid in art class who was always given small jobs like making sure the aprons weren’t tangled up when it was time to put them away. Even though he wanted cooler jobs like holding those cool big ass glass jars, he understood that sometimes it’s just best to mind his own business and do his own designated jobs. You know, for world peace.

But today. Wow. It’s like the gods above are punishing him or something.

He actually woke up feeling pretty good. Today was going to be his day. Or so he thought. His clumsiness, once again, ruins it for him.

Long story short: he accidentally broke a bit of the toilet seat off. In his defence, he really needed a shit and someone left the toilet seat up again. He was definitely not going to fall into the toilet bowl this time. So Namjoon did the only thing a human could do in such a limited space of time: he slam-dunked that toilet seat down as hard as he could. Not his smartest idea. To his dismay, he spent his morning poo hovering over the toilet, with a piece of the seat held in his left hand. Let’s just say the other members were not thrilled when he walked out to the kitchen holding the piece of the smashed toilet seat from one of the most used bathrooms in the house.

After sitting through another one of Seokjin's speeches about the importance of handling things with a bit more caution, Namjoon decided it would be best to go to the company a bit earlier than the others today. Especially when the younger ones wouldn’t stop roasting the shit out of him. It was when he tripped over walking into the company building he thought to himself.

Maybe today wasn’t his day.

‣

This was the tenth day of your internship. And you don’t like to boast but you think you’re owning this shit. Sure, your boss is scary and likes giving you lots of monotonous tasks. But she’s not that bad. Besides, this is what you signed up for! And you’re having fun. Kinda.

“Intern.” You look up from your desk to see a smiling Joowon, one of your coworkers, “Lee is asking for you.”

Giving him a nod, you swiftly get up from your desk. You knock on your boss’ door and walk in when she acknowledges your presence.

“Yes, Mrs Lee?” you say, beaming brightly.

“I need you to go on a coffee run for the marketing team. We have an important meeting regarding TXT’s comeback and I do not want to see anyone slacking. If I do, I will kill someone,” she says looking up from the screen, giving you a small vacant smile. See? She’s warming up to you!

“Of course! Do you want me to buy you a knife while I’m out? Just in case?” You joke while giggling lightly.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” She asks, with no amusement in her face.

You immediately stop laughing. Fuck. Maybe she’s just a tad bit scary. You stiffen a bit and nod ashamed.

“Yeah. I don’t need any of that here” she glances at you up and down and then looks back at her computer, “you should leave now.”

You bow and basically run out of her office. Okay. Fine. She’s fucking terrifying.

You knew working in a big establishment like BigHit was going to be intimidating but not this intimidating. It didn’t help that you had a subliminal fear of attractive people. Of course, you liked looking at them but talking to them made you so nervous. Maybe you should've taken that into account before working in a fucking entertainment company. They were everywhere. At least you were working in the marketing team, where your interactions with the idols were very limited. However, you still would have the odd occurrence with one. On your second day, TXT's Soobin asked you for Mrs Lee's whereabouts. You nearly cried... But let’s not think about that.

Thankfully, your department is quite small and you only had to go get nine iced americanos. The lady at the counter also gave you two paper bags that held eight of them which made your life easier. Since you were feeling fancy and had the room, you got yourself an iced latte. Realising you were a bit short on time, you quickly dashed back to the company.

Entering the building, you check the clock on the lobby wall: fifteen minutes until the meeting starts. Cool. That's fine. You can totally get there before it starts. Totally. Deep breath. You'll be fine. After violently stabbing the elevator button multiple times, you hastily enter and press the floor you needed. Seeing no one was going to get on with you, you push the button to close the doors. Just once. Maybe a few times for good measure. Before the doors shut, you catch a glimpse of the clock again. Thirteen minutes. More than enough time.

When you reach your floor, you check inside the bags to make sure nothing has spilt. You can't help but smile. Look at you. Two coffees in each hand? Not a spill. Holding two bags of coffee? Not a single drop. You really did that. You were that bitch. I am the elite intern. You think to yourself with a chuckle. Then you stop yourself and wince. Jesus Christ. You really needed to get a life.

Remembering your task, you carefully pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time; ten minutes. Just to be safe (and to beat your previous coffee run score of having eight minutes to spare), you speed down the hallway.

You can literally see the glass walls of the meeting room. Not even half of the team is there yet. You were that early. On the opposite side of the corridor, you see your boss, who is facing away from you, and Joowon talking to each other. He glances at you and smiles. You quicken your pace, about to return the smile.

Suddenly, you're seeing him horizontally.

What the fuck? Why the fuck? Oh my God. You're too busy soaking up the mess in front of you that you don’t feel the searing pain on your left ankle. You blink hard and freeze on the floor.

The coffee is spilt. Everywhere.

Shit. You’re gonna get killed. You're gonna get fired. Before you start crying on the ground, the floor starts moving... Wait. Floors don't move. Uuugh. And floors sure as hell don't groan.

You look sideways to realise you're on top of someone's chest. That said someone looks down at you.

Your heart drops.

You jump up to stand and you instantly feel the sting on your ankle. You look at the scene in front of you. You feel like sobbing again. You just spilt your drink all over RM. Fucking Kim Namjoon. You know, the leader of the biggest fucking boy group on the planet? That's the one. You aren’t just going to be fired. You're gonna be banished from Korea. Burned at the stake. Mauled to death.

"I'm so fucking sorry." You burst out, desperately getting back down on the floor to clean up the liquid with your clothes, "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to."

You warily look at him. He's just lying there in this weird, starfish-like position. Not really moving. Oh my God, you think to yourself. You fucking broke him. Did you kill him?

You stop helplessly scrubbing the floor with your jumper sleeve and shakily ask him, "are you alive?"

Abruptly, pulls himself up in a seated position. You flinch. Fuck. He's gorgeous. Great, now you’re nervous. He stares at you blankly and you wince a bit. You mentally prepare yourself to get screamed at and you feel a sting in your eyes. God, you're about to cry. You’re gonna lose your internship. You’re gonna have no future. You're so fucking terri-

All you hear is a deep chuckle.

"Shit. You've done it again Namjoon" he mutters to himself in disbelief, "Did I hurt you?"

He looks at you in concern and shuffles closer. Carefully, he puts a hand on your shoulder. Well, he’s never seen you before. He glances down at the ID card hanging from your neck. There’s a picture of you grinning cheerfully and your name: Y/n L/n. An intern? He also notices that you don’t have the same red lanyard as the other staff here; you switched yours to an Animal Crossing themed ribbon. Cute. He looks back up and his brows furrow when he sees a tear run down your cheek.

“U-uh. I-I’m fine.” you stutter, not really paying attention and avoiding eye contact. You feel yourself shaking.

“Are you sure? I just completely wiped you out with a sliding kick.” He jokes to try to ease the situation, offering a kind smile. Fuck, he has dimples, you think to yourself. You feel him brush his thumb over your cheek to wipe the stray tear.

“Oh my God. Namjoon-ah are you okay?” your boss asks, pushing past you to check on the man, “What is with this mess? What on earth did you do, intern?”

You stumble upwards, preparing for your death. You close your eyes in anticipation. Here it is. Your life was fun while it laste-

“It wasn’t her fault. And I’m fine. Just a bit of liquid.” You hear him say.

You open your eyes and face them. The idol makes eye contact with you and you quickly divert your eyes down. You feel your face heat up from the sudden attention.

“Namjoon-ah, it’s okay. You don’t need to cover up for her. She’s just an intern.” your boss says, impressed with his supposed kindness.

Excuse me? You look up at her disbelief. He was the one who caused you to fall. Before you’re about to defend yourself, you glance at him again and stop yourself. Oh, what the hell? Fine.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean this up straight away!” You shout and bow deeply, accepting the fault. It was just going to be easier this way, you’re just a disposable intern anyways.

Namjoon watches you bow deeply towards them. What? This was his fault.

“Wait, no this was my doin-” He started.

“I really expected better than this, intern.” Mrs Lee sighs in disappointment, not wanting to waste time, “Clean this mess up.”

You bow at both of them again as she walks past you, heading for the meeting room. Well that went better than expected. At least you’re still alive. You sigh weakly and started your hunt for something to help clean the mess up.

Before he could intervene again to clear things up, his phone rings.

“Hyung! Where are you? We need you now, the business call is just about to start.” Jimin shouts down the phone.

Namjoon curses himself. He takes a quick look at your back before running to where he was needed. So much for first impressions. Throughout the call, all he could focus on was the cute intern he wiped out and his coffee-stained hoodie sticking to his chest.

Yup. Today was definitely not his day.

‣

After two weeks of whatever that was, you’ve been trying really hard to redeem yourself. Just a few examples: you started colour coding the meeting notes to make it easier to read; you call the coffee shop ahead of time so your coffee runs take no longer than seven minutes; you bring running shoes to work so for any errands you need to run, you literally run. Oh, and most importantly, you steer the fuck out of Kim Namjoon’s way. This step has been proven difficult because you now see him everywhere. (Apparently, their group is heading into more product deals with different companies so your department is becoming a regular for them).

You tell yourself you aren’t trying to avoid the man because that would be stupid. But you know deep inside you’re just really fucking scared of him. Here are some reasons for your new founded fear:

1. He drop-kicked you down to the floor and you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt like a bitch. You walked with a limp for a whole week. You’re pretty sure you could’ve sued him.

2. He’s the reason Mrs Lee now hates you with a burning passion. (Bit of an overstatement but since when did your mind not blow things out of proportion?)

3. He’s too tall. His mere size towers over you. It’s petrifying.

4. He’s so fucking attractive? Like? Who allowed him to look that good daily? And when he smiles, his dimples show? The thought of them breaks you out in cold sweat.

5. He smells too nice.

6. And oh yeah. Whenever you see each other, he tries to walk up and talk to you.

It scares the living daylights out of you.

‣

Namjoon has never experienced this before.

It’s like he’s the bloody plague. The guilt was eating him alive. For two weeks now he’s been trying to come up and talk to you. And for two weeks you have been running away from him like your life depended on it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Surely you knew it was an honest mistake and he did try to defend you against Mrs Lee. He even apologised, right? Did he apologise? Oh God, he didn’t apologise. He needs to apologise.

“Hyung!” Jungkook pushes him, “Were you even listening?”

Namjoon looks up at the youngest in confusion, “What?”

“He’s too busy thinking about his latest victim.” Jimin teases.

Jungkook laughs with him, “It’s not like she hates you or anything. If you feel so bad about it then just go talk to her and sort it out. You said she was on the marketing floor right? So just go find-”

His words get cut off by his hyung groaning and banging his head down to his table, watching the surrounding objects jump up from the force.

“You think I haven’t tried that?” He mumbles sadly into the wood, “She runs away from me.”

The two younger men look at each other.

“Hyung, you’re totally just overthinking this. She doesn’t run away from you.” Jungkook chuckles, offering a supporting hand on Namjoon’s back.

After a few hours of trying to work on some songs, Namjoon yawns loudly and stretches out his long limbs. From behind him, he hears the two yawn straight after and they all let out a small laugh.

“I think we should call it a day,” Jimin stands up, starting to pack his things, “Yoongi hyung said we were gonna have dinner tonight so we should get going.”

Moving towards the elevator, Namjoon sees you, holding a big stack of papers, from the corner. Shit. Instantly, he pulls the two members in front of him.

“Oh my God, it’s her.” He hides and whispers, even though you are out of ear reach.

Jungkook and Jimin look at the small moving figure, who is currently trying to move hair out of her face with her mouth. So that’s the girl who is clouding their leader’s mind. They watch you a few feet away from the elevator. As if they knew what the other was thinking, they exchange a mischievous look. Without warning, they forcefully drag their hyung forwards before he could process their actions.

Jesus. You whine to yourself. These papers are so fucking heavy. When you hear the ding of lift, you walk in and stretch your pinky to the ground floor button. You move to the back of the elevator, resting your back on the railing. You only have this job to do and you can finally go home. Smiling at the thought, you mindlessly look at your feet, oh and the large feet in front of you. Wait, what?

You look up in shock and meet eyes with your greatest fear. He gives you a nervous smile and you notice the two other attractive people on either side of him. Another fear of yours. (Not the biggest fear at hand but albeit still a fear). God. It’s like you were in a horror movie, where the ghosts were unfairly good looking. You feel your heart speeding. You scream inwardly when you see the idol opening his mouth.

Namjoon stutters and starts when he feels Jungkook hit his back, “Hello aga-”

He feels a gust of wind run past him.

You just sprinted out of the elevator.

As the doors close, the three turn around and watch you racing away. Gobsmacked. Before the doors fully shut, Namjoon is the only one that sees you trip, papers flying everywhere. He lets out a quiet gasp. The small room is silent.

“Well,” Jungkook quietly coughs out, “Maybe she does hate you...”

“You think she hates me?” The oldest pitifully questions and watches Jimin hit the youngest.

“No, don’t be stupid,” Jimin weakly persuades and gives an insincere smile, “She might just be nervous or something.”

Namjoon instantly frowns. She hates me.

‣

You lay face down on the floor, soaking up all the embarrassment of what just happened. Did you just fall? You? Over nothing? What in God’s name is happening to you? You look up and instantly wince. All the documents you organised, sorted and colour-coded are all messed up. There goes your early night.

Picking up the stray papers, you think to yourself: what the fuck is wrong with you? If you weren’t such a big pussy, your life would have been so much easier. You think about all of the time you would have saved if you just walked the quicker route, regardless of whether or not he was in the way. You think about all the plants you wouldn’t have hid behind to prevent his attention. You think about all the information you could’ve learned about your dream job if you didn’t reject the offers just because there was a slim chance of running into him.

At the end of the night, you have one question burning into your mind: why were you so scared of him?

‣

“You like him.” Daeun proclaims. You just told her about your most recent encounter with him.

You stare at the fellow intern in confusion, “What?”

“You have a big fat crush on him.” She repeats, taking a bite out of her lunch, “Just think about it, you said it yourself, your heart races when you see him... So you like him.”

“My heart races because I’m scared of him” You point out.

“No. You dumb bitch. Your heart races because you are nervous.”

Oh. Well, this was not what you were expecting when you asked your friend for advice. You have a crush on Namjoon?

“B-but I don’t know anything about him.” You argue, shaking your head.

“You don’t necessarily have to personally know him to crush on him,” she continues, “You find him attractive right?”

“W-well, yeah I guess so-”

“There you go. We’ve cracked it. You’re just horny for him.”

“The fuck? No, I’m not.” you push her and she laughs.

“I don’t blame you, he walks like he’s got a massive cock.”

You shriek and whack her in detest. She screams jokingly at the pain. When you two look around and notice people staring, you both can’t help but laugh hard.

At 9PM, you were laying in bed, thinking about your friend’s words and you couldn’t help but to be curious about him. Sure, you liked his music as much as the next person but you didn’t know much about Namjoon as a person. Since you just graduated from college, you didn’t have much time to spend on immersing yourself in the world of the BTS. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you start doing research, telling yourself it’ll only take a few minutes.

After watching countless interviews and videos, you wonder how such a person could exist. He’s intelligent, loving, kind, gentle, passionate and- well you just go on for hours. You laugh a bit when you realise his only fault: he’s the biggest fucking klutz.

It hit you at 3AM when you finished watching his UNICEF speech with a big ass smile on your face.

Fuck, you totally have a crush on Namjoon.

a/n: hello! thank you for reading + i hope you’ve enjoyed. i’m also already in the process of writing the second part, if that is something you would like to see!

[emrysofealdor]

The List of Merlin/Merthur Fic Prompts and Ideas That I’ll Probably Never Get Around to Writing Myself

This post is an absolute mess, lmao. Some of them are prompts, some of them are summaries, and some of them are just little story notions. If you want to write/draw/edit one of these, then go for it! All I ask is that you tag me or shoot me a quick message if you post it. 

1) Prince!Merlin

In order to stop the feud between their two kingdoms, Prince Arthur of Camelot is betrothed to Prince Merlin of Escetir. When they meet, they are undeniably drawn to each other, but any hopes of affection are crushed when they open their mouths. Prince Merlin and Prince Arthur butt heads even more than King Balinor and King Uther, but the one thing they can agree on is that the feud has gone on for far enough, and if dealing with each other is the price to pay for peace, then so be it.

The biggest strain in their nonexistent relationship comes from magic. Merlin, or Emrys, has always believed in the prophecies, but his marriage to Arthur throws a wrench in things. Either a) Arthur, the biggest prat in all of Albion, is the Once and Future King, or b) Merlin will have to help his true King from the sidelines, possibly breaking the truce in the process, and all the while being trapped in a loveless marriage. Neither are particularly appealing to him.

Of course, Arthur discovers that magic isn’t inherently evil. And of course, Merlin discovers that Arthur is the Once and Future King. And of course, the two fall madly in love.

2) 4x06 Divergence

After he destroys the Fomorrah, Merlin returns to Camelot to find an anxious Gwen, a furious Gwaine, and most concerning of all, an Arthur who is trapped in a pit of despair and refuses to speak to anyone about it, especially Merlin. Now, Merlin has to figure out what the hell happened when he was under the Fomorrah’s control.

Spoiler alert: when Arthur found Merlin in the bog, instead of hugging him, he kissed him. Merlin pushed Arthur away, saying that he doesn’t think of him that way. Of course, this is all happening in front of Gwaine, who’s been dealing with both Merlin and Arthur’s pining, and who finally convinced Arthur to go for it, only for Merlin to shut him down.

3) another Prince/Nobleman!Merlin

Arthur meets Lord/Prince Merlin, and he’s immediately besotted. Merlin plays hard to get and is just in general a sarcastic, sassy prince.

I picture their dynamic in this to be like Hercules and Meg, with Merlin just roasting the shit out of Arthur while Arthur sits there like 😍

Arthur’s constantly like “Isn’t he just amazing?” and Sir Leon the Long Suffering is just sitting there like “...are you fucking kidding me”

4) The Toast

Arthur gets crowned King. At the feast, he gives a toast - to his knights, to Guinevere - but most shockingly, the final toast is to Merlin.

5) Modern!AU

When Merlin Emrys and Arthur Pendragon meet, it’s love at first sight. Unfortunately, neither of them know how to handle their feelings like regular adults, so instead, they resort to witty banter, pigtail pulling, and worst of all, pining.

Featuring a group of friends who just want to be put out of their misery.

6) The Lowkey Magic Reveal

“You have magic,” Arthur stated.

“Yes.”

Arthur paused for a long moment, glancing between Merlin and the armor that was now strewn across the floor.

“...And you use it to do your chores?”

“Occasionally, among other things. Saving your life, for example.”

Arthur’s face was completely blank. The pair stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, and Merlin felt his panic rising, before Arthur finally responded.

“Alright. Well, carry on, then, I suppose.”

He waved his hand and shut the door, and Merlin heard his footsteps walking out of Gaius’ chambers, leaving Merlin alone to wonder what the hell had just happened.

Or: Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic. It goes better than expected. Too much better than expected, if you ask Merlin.

7) High School Theatre AU

Arthur Pendragon, jock extraordinaire, is cornered by the drama teacher, Mr. Kilgharrah, in the halls and is begged to audition for the school play/musical. He’s always been one to help wherever he could, so even though he’s never acted/sung in his life, he agrees.

Merlin Emrys is seen as the theatre gay boy stereotype - outgoing, bold, and confident. Most of the student body adores him, along with the teachers and generally everyone he meets. He hates Arthur Pendragon on principle, considering that he’s simply waltzing into theatre and getting a lead role his first time simply because he’s a man.

You know the drill. Enemies to lovers, slow burn. Bonus points if the roles that Merlin and Arthur are cast in have gay subtext. Even more bonus points if the roles are openly gay.

8) Immortal!Merlin Accidentally Becomes Famous

In which Merlin gets bored of hating his immortality and decides to express his bottled-up emotions from Camelot and from over the years of waiting through song, but his music blows up, and he becomes a musical sensation. And in which Arthur is tumblr famous for his fan blog of the world-famous music artist Emrys, and keeps wondering why the hell Emrys’ work feels so familiar.

9) Hero!Merlin/Villain!Arthur

Arthur’s working for his father, the CEO of Pendragon Sciences, when day, Uther pulls him into his office and reveals how he’s begun developing biology altering drugs to make superpowers, something to directly counter magic. He uses magical human test subjects and tortures them to the brink of death. Furthermore, he plans to give someone close to him the first test of these drugs and essentially become his personal hitman. Arthur is absolutely horrified, and he realizes that he has to do something about this. He knows just how powerful his father has become - now that he understands the scope of his work, he realizes that no one will be able to stop him. No one... except for maybe, just maybe, someone on the inside of his corporation, and someone who he trusts unconditionally... like Arthur.

So, Arthur convinces Uther to use him as the test subject, and everything goes perfectly. Arthur gains powers, and he plays the part of the perfect, magic-hating villain, all while trying to undermine Uther’s operations. The media gets wind of this new villain, and so naturally, there needs to be a hero to combat it. Enter Merlin Ambrose, AKA Emrys, the most powerful magic user to ever walk the earth.

Merlin has been working with Morgana, Arthur’s magical half-sister who ran away once she discovered her magic combined with all of Uther’s shit, and they suspect that Uther is behind the creation of this villain. Merlin applies for a job at Pendragon Sciences as Arthur Pendragon’s personal assistant. You’ve probably got a pretty good idea of how it goes from there.

If you want to talk about any of these ideas, either share your thoughts on this post or message me! I haven’t even gotten into everything I have for some of these ideas, and I would be overjoyed to talk about them to someone or for someone to end up creating them!!!

[helaintoloki]

Old Ghosts

pairing: Dan Torrance x reader

warnings: slight language, slight angst, some fluff

notes: certainly not the best piece I’ve ever written but I needed to put something up lolol

summary: no matter where you’re at in life, the shining always seems to bring you back to Dan

“I’ve only ever met three or four people in my life who knew they shined.”

He paused then, unsure and looking down contemplatively at the callouses on his hands as she came to mind. He could see her almost as if he was back in the Overlook again, standing down the hallway in her overalls and pigtails with her big doe eyes curiously taking him in as he played with his toy cars on the carpet. Where was she now?

“Who is she?” Abra asks, turning sheepish at Dan’s reproached gaze. “I didn’t mean to peak, I swear. It’s just.. your thoughts get really loud when you think about her. Did she have the shining too?”

“Her name was y/n, and she didn’t just shine, she gleamed. At first I thought she was just another ghost,” Dan admits, chucking faintly at the thought as the warmth of his nostalgia began to settle in the pit of his chest. “A little ghost girl there to help me chase the monsters away.”

“But she wasn’t a ghost?”

“No,” Dan concurs thoughtfully. “Not a ghost. A friend.”

“Maybe she can help us with Rose,” Abra suggests eagerly, but her hopeful spirit deflates at Dan’s immediate objection.

“I won’t do that to her. I won’t pull her into something like this, not again,” he says gravely. “I haven’t seen or heard from y/n in years, and maybe that’s for the best. If I try to call her now, and I’m not even sure if I could, I would just... Listen, you just keep your head down, you hear me? You keep your head down and you hope to god that these people never find you.”

Abra watches despondently as Dan rises from his seat beside her on the bench and settles his conductor’s cap back onto his head. Guilt slowly begins to creep through his skin at the disappointment in her face, but he ignores it as best as he can and looks to the girl apologetically.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” he says finally, walking back towards the train to resume his regular shift as train conductor.

Though Abra is disappointed, she hasn’t lost all hope yet. Dan can’t help her, but maybe there’s someone else who can.

~~~

You liked to think you lived a pretty normal life. You owned a quaint house in a quiet town in Maine where nothing interesting ever seemed to happen. It was peaceful, everyone you encountered always seemed to like you, and no one knew about your special little gift.

You hadn’t really understood the extent of your gift until you reached the age of five, and until then you had been afraid of it. Your mother had said you were cursed, a punishment for being the bastard child of a married man, and for a long time you had believed that. But then you found yourself face to face with a little boy much like yourself, and everything changed.

You’re not sure what exactly brought you to the hallways of the Overlook Hotel, or why you seemed to gravitate towards the boy with the big wheel, but what you did know was that he was special just like you were, and he was in danger.

For a while you had just been there to keep him company, playing with his cars on the carpets and watching cartoons together while his mother knitted on the couch just a few feet away from you. Wendy had assumed you were another Tony, and Danny thought you had been a friendly ghost. But you were so much more than that.

When his father had succumbed to his own insanity you had helped him escape, and when the trauma and the ghosts of the hotel continued to torment him you were there to ease him through it. A bond had been made, and throughout your childhood and teenage years it had been stronger than anything. But then Danny began to drink, his shine began to dull, and you slowly began to lose the connection you had once had. The last time you had seen him had been during one of his one night stands. He hadn’t wanted to see you then and made it adamantly clear.

“What are you still hanging around for? I don’t need you,” he had snapped. “For fuck’s sake y/n, we’re not kids anymore. Just go away.”

And you had. That had been years ago, and though you hadn’t seen him since, he still often came to mind from time to time. You shared the same nightmares, were haunted by the same ghosts, but now you had to deal with them alone. And that was fine, you were a big girl who could handle herself. Things were quiet and peaceful, until they weren’t.

You wake with a start, a sheen of sweat coating your face and the back of your neck as you glance around the room. A whisper of your name had roused you from your sleep, and you feel yourself begin to pale at the sight of the little girl at the foot of your bed.

“W-What... who... who are you?” You breathe heavily. Though she doesn’t seem dangerous, you know you can never be too careful.

“My name is Abra, and you’re y/n,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’m magic like you. I need your help.”

“My help? Why?”

“There are bad people out there who eat people like us, and they’re coming for me next. Dan and I, we need your help.”

“Dan?” You gasp softly. “You know Danny?”

“Come to Frazier and I’ll tell you the rest. Hurry.”

Abra is gone before you can ask any more questions, leaving you to dwell on the thoughts swirling around your head. It’s definitely a lot to take in at once, especially at the fact that Danny has somehow made his way back into your life. Years of being on your own, and now you not only had your old friend back a new girl with your ability.

Your mind is made up. Even if Dan wasn’t attached to the deal you still would have made the same choice. No one was really there to help you with your gift when you were a kid, so making sure Abra has someone to look out for her is vital to her survival. You won’t let her make your same mistakes or suffer through your same fears.

You’re going to Frazier.

~~~

Abra had emailed you the set location for your meet up, a place called Teeny Town in Frazier just across the street from the library, and you were to meet her at twelve o’clock exactly. You showed up at eleven fifty five, anxiously checking your phone every five seconds to see if she had emailed you again. God, this was crazy. Had you really just packed a bag, got in your car, and driven to New Hampshire without a second thought?

”y/n?” A voice calls, prompting you to turn around. Your jaw drops at the sight before you, and for a moment you can’t tell whether or not you’re dreaming.

He looks so different than the last time you saw him. His face is clean shaven with slight stubble around the edges, his blue eyes are brighter, and he seems to carry himself in a lighter manner. Danny is older and sober, and before you can stop yourself you’re meeting him halfway into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe it! What are you doing here?” He asks, his hand cradling the back of your head and his eyes watering with tears.

“I came to help,” you explain meekly, holding him impossibly close to your chest. “Oh, Danny. It’s been so long.”

“I’m so sorry,” he utters softly. “You have no idea how hard it’s been without you.”

“I’m here now,” you comfort, pulling away from the embrace to hold his face in your hands. “And whatever this is, we’ll get through it together. Just like when we were kids.”

Dan smiles, melting into your touch and feeling secure for the first time in years. Words can’t describe how much he’s missed you, how often you’ve haunted his thoughts, and a part of him still can’t believe you’re here. For a moment he’s able to forget just exactly what Abra has roped you into, the danger you’re in now.

It’s going to be a bumpy road, a dangerous road as the two of you are thrusted back into the arms of the monster from your childhood. But with you here now, Dan knows he’ll be able to do whatever it takes to keep you and Abra safe. That’s a promise.

[pastamic]

So I’ve seen quite a few posts complaining about the way Entrapta was treated by the Princesses, particularly with a lot of vitriol towards Mermista. I know a lot of us who are neurodivergent are really excited about Entrapta as a character because she’s autistic coded and a lot of us can really relate to her. I think a lot of us are also, and rightfully so, very defensive of the way these types of characters are treated because they get treated honestly so badly by show creators and other characters in their series more often than not, and that’s totally reasonable. If you’re uncomfortable with the way she was treated in regards to what I’m about to talk about I’m in no way saying you can’t still be uncomfortable about this because this is just my opinion and the way I saw it as one touch-averse ND person. To preface this I have not received an autism diagnoses, but I have an ADHD diagnoses and have started to suspect that I might be autistic as well (though it’s hard to tell with the overlapping symptoms.) My fiance is autistic and also has ADHD and has agreed with me on several of these points. 

SO 

[id: Screenshot of Mermista pulling Entrapta’s hair while they approach Horde Prime’s spire in season 5. Caption reads “I’m sorry I’m bad at listening!” end id]

This scene, which a lot of people had an issue with. I had an issue with it at first too bc like pulling peoples hair is generally like not okay! Though the situation was very stressful and dire and Mermista was under a lot of stress. I think this episode was actually particularly important because it showed Entrapta’s issues with feelings and people (like not realizing they were all upset with her) and the stress and residual resentment from fighting on opposite sides and the issues that the other princesses had with understanding Entrapta with a resolution that got talked through. Something that in my personal experience is really important for everyone, but especially ND people and people with mental illnesses. Miscommunications and misunderstandings happen and they all talked it through and I thought it was very sweet. 

But, the hair pulling (and the weird leash thing that Perfuma made with vines but that’s a whole post on it’s own and I’m not gonna get into it) 

Now like I said I thought it was kinda shitty at first, but thanks to quarantine and depression I’ve re-watched spop probably fifteen times now and I’ve noticed a bit of a pattern. 

Most of us have already noticed that Entrapta uses her hair as hands for stuff 

[id: Screenshot of Entrapta leaning over in Hordak’s lab and shaping one of her pigtails into a hand. Caption reads “Failure is a vital part of scientific endeavor.” end id]

Like literal hands

[id: Screenshot of Entrapta standing in Darla’s doorway holding her tools with her hair and making a suggestive face. end id] 

It’s her superpower, and while the other princesses do use their powers as a bit of an extension of themselves, for Entrapta her hair is straight up another body part/limb for her. Tbh if I had hair like that I would use it for literally everything and never touch shit with my hands. 

I think I’ve seen people point this out to an extent before but I noticed that Entrapta never really reaches out to touch anybody with her actual hands with the exception of Hordak.

[id: Screenshot of Entrapta smiling  in the Fright Zone squishing Catra’s cheeks with her hair. Caption reads “Hi, Catra. I saved your life. You’re welcome.” end id]

When she convinces Hordak to send Catra to the Crimson Waste instead of to Beast Island she like grabs her cheeks with her hair, and again in season 5 she pats Catra on the head when she tells her she forgives her. 

[id: Screenshot of Entrapta and Hordak in Hordak’s lab. Entrapta is using her hair to hold out Hordak’s arms in a T-pose. Caption reads “And you’re really way too obsessed with this whole failure thing.” end id] 

And when she’s talking about Hordak’s disability and brainstorming about his suit. I actually chose both of the above screenshots because I thought at first that she only used her hair in place of her hands because her hands always had her tablet in them but both of her hands are free in these scenes, though one could argue that she needs to use her hair to reach Hordak’s hands, she could lift herself up with her hair if she really wanted to reach out with her hands. 

Actually there’s a point in Season 3, episode 4 where she straight up just scratches her hair with the Shera sword so I’m not even sure she has feeling in her hair??? 

[id: Screenshot of Entrapta in Hordak’s lab scratching her head with the Shera sword. Caption reads “I’m not sure if we just need the sword or if we need She-Ra, too.” end id] 

She’s scratching her head with a big fuck off sword so I think that we can infer two things from that: that she can’t really feel much through her hair, and that her hair is like durable as fuck. Considering she lifts herself up by her hair a ton I’d imagine it’s not attached to her scalp in quite the same sensitive way that like non-magic hair would be. 

So I think it makes sense, and might be a respect of her boundaries, to reach for her hair over her hand if they need to keep her from going somewhere. You could argue that grabbing someone in general is a disrespect of boundaries, and in a lot of cases it can be, but in the case of a battle or dangerous mission grabbing someone isn’t really out of the ordinary. We see it with the Best Friends Squad a lot, but also with Scorpia and like literally everyone she’s around. 

When Hordak saves Entrapta from the portal exploding we do see him grab her by the hand, but it’s continuously established that Entrapta exhibits way more intimacy with him than with pretty much anyone else. She allows touch from others and doesn’t seem bothered by it, but Hordak is the person she most consistently reaches out to in regards to touch. 

[id: Screenshot of Bow kissing Entrapta’s pigtail like it’s her hand. end id] 

When Bow first officially meets Entrapta he kisses her pigtail like it’s her hand, which by the way is just super adorable I love fanboy Bow, but it’s not just Bow. Catra and Scorpia also mainly interact with Entrapta through her hair.

Whenever someone needs to interact with Entrapta in a tactile way, it’s pretty much always through her hair. When Entrapta needs to interact with others in a tactile way, it’s pretty much always through her hair. Entrapta’s hair is like another set (sets?? She can split her hair up a lot) of hands. So I don’t think it’s as rough of a treatment as people are making it out to be. It’s not like pulling a non-magic person’s hair. Entrapta’s hair is magic and she uses it in place of her hands near constantly. It’s not like pulling someone else’s hair because Entrapta’s hair is her power, it’s an extension of herself in a way that other’s hair is not. 

It’s okay to feel uncomfortable with Mermista (or others) pulling Entrapta’s hair if that makes you uncomfortable, especially if you’re neurodivergent as many of us have experiences of people completely disregarding our bodily autonomy and infantilizing us in a way that’s frustrating and harmful, but (and I’m not gonna name names bc this isn’t meant to be a discourse post and I’ve seen it a lot) demonizing Mermista for pulling her hair in a high stress situation when she’s struggling with leadership already and Entrapta is seemingly ignoring her orders to do whatever for the sake of science. Though we find out that’s not the case, Mermista doesn’t know that at first and was intending to keep Entrapta from putting herself or the rest of the team in danger which is a foundation of leadership responsibility. 

Should she have tried to be more understanding of Entrapta and actually try to communicate frankly that she was mad instead of assuming that Entrapta would realize it on her own? Absolutely, especially as a leader. But she’s new to leadership and that’s like half of what that episode was about, and people make mistakes, especially with communication. That’s something that I think spop as a show handles really well. People make mistakes, people do things they regret, and people struggle with things like communicating and boundaries even when they have the best of intentions. What matters is that it’s talked out, apologized for, resolved, etc. I’m ND myself, and I’m friends with a lot of neurodivergent people and miscommunications happen A LOT even with like the base knowledge that we need to speak bluntly, clearly, and honestly in order to be understood. Sometimes even when you’re blunt and honest and open things still get miscommunicated. I definitely think the princesses infantilize Entrapta far too much, but I don’t think the hair pulling is as much of an issue as I’ve seen people make it out to be and I definitely don’t think Mermista is some Vile Bitch (tm) for doing what she did. 

(Also I took all these screenshots myself please appreciate that I spent like two hours combing through spop episodes to find them djsfjklds) 

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 9

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, violence. Rated M

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

I reappeared, storming towards the door.

“I’m gonna kill her”, I said, every inch of my body tense and in attack mode. Rick rushed towards me, grabbing a hold of my arm, holding me in place.

“Stop, Y/N”, he hushed me. “Just stop!”.

Katana was drawing her blade, and stepping towards me. Rick held up his hand, stopping her. “Step back, Katana. I’ve got this”. The woman stayed back, still on high alert.

I was shaking from rage. “How long, Rick?”, I growled. “How long have you known about me? How long have you been watching me?”.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “The night we caught you, was the first time I saw you in person. I’ve known about you for about a month before that”. “Wayne Tower?”, I asked. “Yes”, he answered. “She had me searching leads, given to her by someone… I don’t know who”.

I had a strange feeling I did.

“She’s just been waiting for a reason to flush me out, and use me”, I raged. “I don’t think it’s like that”. “Then, what is it like?”, I asked. I relaxed my body; apparently making him feel it was safe enough to release his hold on me. I sat on the edge of the conference table. He crossed his arms, and began speaking.

“She’s been up to something for a while. Sending the Force on bullshit missions, taking care of small-time crime lords the police could have easily handled”. He looked at me, and I gestured at him to continue. “This last one you joined us on… I think it was your test run. And I think you played into her game. She hoped you’d do whatever you needed to, to prove yourself to the team. Or me. I don’t know”.

“I wasn’t trying to prove myself to anyone”, I said. Maybe myself, I thought. And maybe – just a little bit – to you, I added.

“Either way, she needed to know whether you’d be rash enough to act against your own interest, to get results”. He met my eyes. “And you did”. I shook my head, cursing under my breath. He continued.

“This mission she’s sending you on”, he said, “she’s been planning for a long time. I haven’t been able to get anything out of her; but whoever the target is, I don’t think it’s a terrorist group; not in the way you might think. I think it’s one of the big players in the Gotham underground. Someone who she desperately needs gone”.

He walked up to the old-fashioned slideshow projector Waller had left behind. “Whoever it is, they’re more than just a little dangerous”. “Hatter?”, I muttered, a little worried. “Worse”, he answered.

Katana said something in Japanese; I guessed it was. “I already told her”, he answered her. “After this; I’m done”. His words made me uneasy.

He grabbed the case of slides, picking up one, looking at it; then throwing the whole thing into the wall. “Shit!”, he yelled.

“What did she mean; we’ve been here before?”, I half whispered.

He froze. Katana said a few words, then sent me a sympathetic look, and left the room.

“Rick?”, I demanded.

His face was expressionless. “Waller and I met when she needed me to track down another meta-human. This was before the X Force was officially approved by the higher ups”, he said, sitting down in the chair Waller had formerly occupied. I moved to stand closer to him, but changed my mind when I saw his eyes. They were pained; remembering.

He sighed. “Her name was June Moone. She was possessed by the spirit of an ancient witch she called Enchantress”. He ran his hand down his face, scratching the stubbles on his cheek. “I was put in charge of her protection. But it became more than that”.

“You loved her”, I said quietly.

“I did. I fell for her the moment I saw her, and it wasn’t long before we became more than what we were supposed to be”. He looked at me, face hardening. “Waller had planned it all along. She wanted me locked down; unable to say no to her demands”. I held my breath.

“June was struggling with the spirit. It kept taking control of her, against her will; and one day, she lost her ability to fight it”, he said. “It gave Waller the leverage she needed to get her way on having the Force approved”. He was fidgeting in his seat. “Enchantress built an army of creatures that caused havoc in Midway City; and the squad took her out”, he said. “I crushed her heart myself”.

“You killed her?”, I asked.

“June survived”, he answered. “We were able to move on with our lives, together”.

I looked down. His words were a punch to the guts.

“It was good. For a while”, he continued. “June made tenure at Gotham U, teaching ancient Mayan… something. I never really could figure it out”, he chuckled. “We got an apartment. A dog. Everything was headed in one direction”.

I could see it. Rick and some beautiful, intelligent career-driven woman on his arm, wearing a tasteful diamond ring on her left hand, walking their perfect little mut; or cooking in their stupid kitchen, while drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses. I felt like throwing up.

“She wanted to move on; and forget what happened in Midway City. She wanted to make it so it never happened; and she wanted me to leave the Force. Become a civilian”, he said. “But I couldn’t do that. This team; the job… it was to important to just quit. And I knew no one else would be willing to take on those weirdos out there”.

“So, you left her for the squad”, I said, smiling ironically. “That’s so sweet. And sad for June”, I added.

“She… left me”, he admitted. “I didn’t fit in to her idea of how her life was supposed to be. She wanted a life away from all this, and I couldn’t give her that”.

He walked to stand in front of me. We stood there for a long time, not saying anything.

“It’s over”, he finally said, meeting my eyes. “June is… was… very important to me. But it wasn’t meant to be. I want her to be happy and safe, and get everything that she wants. But I don’t need to be a part of that picture. Not anymore”, he finished, and put his hand on my check.

I pushed it away.

“Don’t”, I said. “I know a rebound when I see it”.

“Y/N”, Rick pleaded. “You’re not a rebound. Everything I said last night was true”. He placed his hands on either side of my face. “This is real!”.

“Is it?”, I asked. “Or is it a way for you to deal with the fact that you lost the perfect woman over a job that you don’t even want?”.

He leant in and kissed my lips softly. I put my hands on his chest; part of me wanting to push him away – the other part wanting to melt into his arms. The angry side of me won.

“Please stop”, I said, and turned away from him, leaving his grasp. “They’re waiting for us”.

He moved towards me again, but I put my hands up in front of me, staring him down.

“This”, I said, pointing back and forth between us, ��Whatever it is… was… it can wait. At least until we’ve finished this bullshit mission”.

He looked at me incredulously.

“We’re going back out there, and you’re gonna tell them, Flag!”. He winced at me using his last name. “Tell them everything!”.

I stormed towards the door, but he stopped me in my tracks, grabbing a hold of my waist, pushing me up against the wall.

“I’m not losing you, Y/N”, he said, putting his forehead to mine. “I want us. This. And I know you do too”.

I grabbed his wrist, and with an angry look at him, I pressed the button on it. My disc turned red.

I pushed him away.

“Let’s go”, I said.

---

He did as I asked. The squad reacted as expected.

“I thought you was done lying to us, man”, Diablo said hoarsely, clenching his fists; flames rising from each of them.

“I never lied”, Rick answered. Floyd scoffed.

“Not since June”, Rick reiterated. I looked at the ground in front of me, trying to seem unmoved by his mention of her.

Croc roared at him, grabbed my wheelchair, and threw it at the wall; making it break into a thousand pieces. He looked at me apologetically. “Sorry”. “Don’t worry about it”, I half smiled. “People seem to be throwing all kinds of things around these days”. Rick looked at me from the corner of his eye.

“Look, this is a shit situation, but it’s no different than what we’ve been through before”, he said. “You finish this, and you all get another 10 years of your sentences”.

“Yeah, but we’re also going up against someone we know nothing about”, Digger said from his seat on his favorite napping bench. “And that cunt, Waller, obviously doesn’t give a shit about any of us”. He stood up, kicking the bench, flipping it over. “I’ll show her disposable, when I dispose of her fucking body in a river!”, he yelled.

Floyd walked up to Rick, and looked at him pointedly. “Flag, you need to tell us right now; whose side of the fence you on?”.

“You know I’m with you, Deadshot”, Rick answered.

Floyd looked at him for a second, searching his eyes for deceit. “Zoe’s got a dance recital coming up next month”, he said. “I’ll get you there”, Rick said. Floyd stepped back and nodded.

“Why you want us to do this so bad?”, Diablo asked, voice calmer.

The only part of the conversation with Waller Rick hadn’t mentioned to the team, was the part about him leaving. I would let him keep his secret. For now.

“It’s an order, Santana. I can’t fight it. That’s… beyond my paygrade”, Rick answered, and sighed.

“Quinn”, Digger called. “You hearing this?”.

Harley was in her ropes; effortlessly contorting her body into sensual positions – her eyes in a faraway place.

“Yo, Harlz!”, Floyd yelled. Harley looked at him, ripped out of her daydream. “You paying attention?”.

She slid down the ropes, and looked at him calmly.

“Yeah. We’re supposed to go to Gotham; and take down some bigshot, who’s been stepping on Wallers toes. What are we waiting for?”. She tightened her pigtails, and smiled brightly at us.

Rick shook his head at her, eyes worried. “You with us, Quinn?”, he asked.

She tilted her head, and smiled sweetly. “Always, boss!”.

The door began opening, and we all got into line, legs spread, hands on our heads. Waller came in flanked by a newly showered Griggs.

“I trust the colonel has filled you in with the information you need to finish this mission satisfactorily”, she said. She apparently also expected Rick to have taken care of making up a continued cover story for her. “You will be transported to Gotham first thing tomorrow”.

“What are we, cattle?”, Diablo mumbled next to me.

“Take them back to their cells”, she said to Rick, and stepped aside.

---

Once back at my cell, Rick went inside with me, and shed me of my harness. His closeness to my body stirred me in ways I didn’t want it to. Sending the guards away, he closed the door behind us, and put a hand on my shoulder, turning me around to face him.

“Are you ok?”, he asked. “What do you think?”, I answered.

He exhaled and put his arms around me. I wanted to push him away; but my body was aching for his touch. He leant in and kissed me; and I couldn’t help but respond. Stroking my back, his touch reminded me of the night before.

Laying on my stomach, his hand moved from my lower back, up between my shoulder blades; as he pushed in to me from behind, slowly and deliberately. He kissed my neck; groaning as I tightened around him, drawing him closer to the edge. He moved a hand under me, searching for, and finding, my sweet spot; stroking it. He pulled my hair, making my head turn, and caught my mouth in a passionate kiss; continuously moving in and out of me; stroking me, getting us both closer to our joint climax…

“Y/N”, he breathed; deepening his kiss. My body responded, and I struggled to keep my senses.

“N-no”, I stammered. He stepped back immediately.

“I’m sorry”, he said. “It’s too soon”.

“That’s not it”, I said, and looked into his confused eyes. “I know you think this is real. And maybe I do too. But…”, I paused, and took a step back. “I’m not gonna be your prisoner/guard fantasy. I’m worth more than that!”.

“You’re angry about June”, he said.

“I’m not angry because you have an ex. I’m angry because I’m just another one in the line of your workplace romances gone wrong. You fall for your… wards, left and right”.

“That’s not it”. He leant against the wall, crossing his arms. “This about you being afraid to get close to me, because you don’t trust anyone”, he growled. “I never lied to you, or kept anything secret. I went out of my way to make sure you’d find out what kind of person Waller really is”.

“I don’t want you to buy my affections with little favors”, I yelled. “Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life in this place, waiting for you to show up in my cell with flowers and candy, whenever you need to get your dick wet?”.

He frowned at me. “I don’t want that either. I want you to get out of here. I want us together, without having to hide what I feel for you!”, he answered, frustrated.

I walked up to him, caressed his check, and kissed him softly. “I need time”, I said quietly. “To think”.

He sighed, and his expression softened. “I understand. And I’m not going to pressure you. Take whatever time you need”. He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll wait”.

He went out the door, and I heard it lock.

I was alone again.

---

I had a restless night. My head was spinning from the events of the day. I felt strangely empty.

From somewhere down the hall, Harleys voice was broke the silence, singing an old showtune I remembered from a movie I’d once seen.

“Oh, whats the use of wondrin’, if hes good or if hes bad? He’s your fella and you love him. Thats all there is to that”.

“Shut up Quinn. Some of us are trying to sleep!”, Diggers voice boomed.

It went quiet again. Sleep started to take me over, when Harleys thin voice began again.

“Common sense may tell you, that the ending will be sad, and now’s the time to break and run away. But whats the use of wondrin’, if the ending will be sad? He’s your fella and you love him. There’s nothing more to say”.

A loud crash, from what I guess was a small table hitting Diggers cell door; and Harley went quiet again.

There wasn’t another sound the rest of the night.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​​

@hyp-oh-critical​​

[seijohsfairy]

𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙱𝙻𝙴

indelible; something ingrained, unfading, indestructible you never really minded the twin rivalry. until you ended up in the middle of it, with atsumu on the losing side.

sequel to mirror (you don’t need to have read it before but it’s recommended)

.wordc. 5k+ tw incest, noncon > dubcon, mentions of past noncon, jealousy, hair pulling, praise kink, unprotected sex

+

Sometimes you wonder what the world would look like if you could have two suns in the sky. Or two halves of the same core, the same molten stardust that flickers with life. You’re not sure the world could handle it, or at best— you alone can’t. But you grew up knowing them this way, only ever together. Always in competition with each other, always driving each other forward— at a frightening pace sometimes.

They are both fiery, hardworking and passionate, always have been, and as you grew it became their trademark more with the years. Incessantly. Where Tsumu is precise, Osamu is diligent. Where Osamu is confident and self-assured, Tsumu is bursting at the seams with energy. To strangers they’d be the typical image of similarity. If you’d ask their close friends, they’d probably tell you the twins are more different than you can imagine. But to you, and you’ve been with them almost as long as they’ve been with each other, they are nothing more than distorted shimmers of broken light on the wall.

Not the same or completely foreign, but part of the same blur. You guess in some ways you belong to that whole too— even before you know it yourself.

It’s when you’re five that your older brothers go through a bit of a bully phase. Not to anyone outside the family, just to each other. And to you, with your silly pigtails and a bottom lip that is a bit too easy to shake. And though it’s both of them that tackle you in the grass when you run, sometimes getting on top of you to wrestle when you threaten to tell mom, you remember figuring out at age five which half of the whole it is to stick with at what time.

Samu nii is a lot of things, but he isn’t the one to look for when they bump past you and knock you to the ground. It won’t ever be Samu nii who gives up his chance of winning in order to help their tiny, little sister. Atsumu’s hands are warm when he reaches for you though, and his sleeves always feel soft when he’s wiping your face from the silvery tracks of tears.

When you’re nine, you realize that while Osamu isn’t the one to drop to his knees to help you up, he does care about your wellbeing. Any big brother would- even if they don’t admit it, but he always seems to take pride in it. When one of the boys of your class manages to place a wet kiss on your cheek during lunch and you and your little friends scatter with squeals and the dramatic overreactions only young girls can have, it’s Osamu who crosses the yard to come pull you behind him.

You don’t think protecting you like this would ever even cross Atsumu’s mind, and so it’s easy to bury your face into his back and cling to his sweater while he glares down the boy. It’s Atsumu who laughs it off when you all walk home together at the end of the day, fingers held a little too tight in your brother’s hands.

And it’s when you’re fourteen that Atsumu pulls you into the world’s tightest hug after school, clutching you to his chest. It’s not the first time you see him cry, but it’s the first time you remember taking notice of just how much he truly wants this, sniffling into your neck that he’s invited to the National Youth camp. It’s that night you hold him in your arms and stroke his hair, cuddled up under the soft blankets in the bottom bunk, letting him know that it’s okay if he’s going on ahead. That you and Samu nii will stick together and catch up to him.

And it’s Osamu who comes to sit at the end of the bed when your other brother has fallen asleep, softly snoring, who makes you link pinkies and promise things, quiet in the night. “Atsumu’s gonna go pro, ya’know?” he whispers, and you hum through the thick, dark tension when he looks at his twin, curled up resting on your chest. “He’ll leave,” he says, “so promise you won’t. Promise yer stayin’ with me.”

Promise you’ll be mine.

Promise.

Promise.

You do. It’s when you’re eighteen you learn that where Atsumu grabs hold of the top and strives on to deliver, Osamu promises only what he already knows he can give. And you learn that to Samu nii, promises are sacred.

+

Your house is quieter after that night, and Atsumu doesn’t know why he doesn’t leave. He no longer seems welcome, the tension radiating off of his twin clear enough a sign, but it’s you who delivers the finishing blow each day. You sit alone when he comes back from his runs, and you don’t bother to pretend that you’re not hurt. He’s not an idiot, hell— he’d probably do worse if he was in your place. But he also can’t help the itch he feels when he hears you crying through the wall in the other room, waking both him and Samu up. It’s his brother who pulls you into his chest and tells you to go back to sleep after you’ve stopped screaming through your nightmares, but Atsumu thinks it’s him who gave you them.

Every conversation he has with you after is clipped and hurried, and you never quite meet his eyes. It’s the same kind of distance you put between yourself and Samu, and fuck- he hates every passing second it lasts. Your chair scrapes against the floorboards too loud the last evening of his stay when you clear off everyone’s plates, putting them dutifully in the dishwasher. And Osamu, his twin— your brother for fuck sake, comes up behind you to litter kisses onto your neck and pull you close to him until you have to crack a smile. “I love you, baby,” he whispers then, and your mouth corners always drop a little when you straighten up.

“I love you too, Samu nii.”

He knows you don’t trust him anymore. And he can’t even blame you, because he knows what he did, what Samu is doing to you, is wrong. It’s far past wrong, and it eats him up inside when he has to leave and you two wave him out with a gentle pat on the back. You don’t look at him when he stands at the threshold, your eyes glossing over when he calls for your name. But you offer him another goodbye and walk back into your love den with his brother, as he stands in silence in the hall. “She’ll get over it soon enough, so ya can stop poutin’ now,” Samu mumbles, sighing. “I trust ya to keep this between us.”

His eyes trail over your pitiful form as you disappear down the hall, heart beating unfairly hard against his ribs. “Atsumu,” his brother grunts when he doesn’t respond, eyebrows narrowing. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” He lets his gaze shift to his mirror image and crosses his arms over his chest, hoping to keep the warmth in his jacket. A hand falls to his shoulder again, and though it feels just as warning as before, the brunet takes a moment to stare into his eyes. Then he nods. “Just know she will forgive you.” The ‘she did for me after all’ stays unspoken, and Atsumu hates that the statement makes his heart swell. He knows he deserves anything you throw at him.

His twin is right in the end, though it takes long enough to have the blond’s stomach churning each time he thinks of asking you to come by some time. At least to get out of the bustle of uni life, he ends up texting you, just hoping that you still care for him enough to take him up on his offer. Just to help you, like his first instinct should have been in the first place. Never again will he touch you like that, he swears to himself, though it’s your teary expression that flashes through his brain the second before he cums almost every time. Remembering the way you’d wrapped your lips around his cock and taken him so pretty, looking at him though wet lashes and heated cheeks.

He knows he shouldn’t find it as intoxicating as he does, and it stabs at his consciousness every time he analyzes a picture of you and Samu a bit too closely. Fuck, how did he never notice the reverant way Osamu looks down at you when you’re in promotional images for Onigiri Miya together. How did he never notice the arm wrapped so tight around your waist on the image staring back at him, plenty of faces that keep the store running, but none as jarring as you two. You look like lovers, well, no— Samu does. The swelling feeling of guilt that has him staying up late at night, wondering if you’ll call him awake some time.

He misses hearing you call him when Osamu doesn’t suffice. He misses being the one you felt safest with. So his heart soars almost painfully when you agree to stay for the weekend, getting away from Sendai for a while, and with the best intentions he agrees. He does.

But it’s odd introducing you to his team. For as close as you might’ve been in childhood and throughout all of middle and highschool, it’s only now he realizes that he never really brought you up to the people around him. He just took his shot alone and ran with it, hoping the shadow he cast was big enough to have you following. That’s how it should have been, that’s what siblings do. So why does it feel like he lost? Osamu’s employees, your neighbors, the old lady behind the counter at the store down the street recognize you and they love you, and every single one knows you’re Osamu’s little sister, never his.

So when he picks you up from the station mid-training and asks the team to go easy for the rest of practice, people glance at you like you’re the most interesting thing they’ve seen this last month. Grabbing your tiny hand and shaking it a bit too enthusiastically, pulling you into hugs and talking your ear off about the upcoming tournament before he even has the chance to speak. And when the captain comes to stand next to him for a moment with crossed arms, the guilt lurches out of his throat and keeps his tongue stuck like glue to the bottom of his mouth.

“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Meian laughs, clapping him on the shoulder, “and considering the guys’ reactions neither did they. As long as you keep the team as a priority as much as her, I don’t have any complaints. You seem like a good couple.” The noiret laughs then, and though Tsumu knows he should say something to correct this assumption, he can’t. “Oh, and go a bit more gentle on the poor thing, Miya. She’s bruised to hell and back.”

He joins the rest of the team in conversation not ten seconds later and lets you slip your hand into his for comfort, and the smile that comes up is instinctive. When all his friends ask for your name, he only tells them the first part. And though he knows it’s a horrible thought, he loves that you’re not the Miya twins’ little sister to them. No, to his teammates, you’re Miya Atsumu’s beautiful, smart, stunning girlfriend. And he gets a sick thrill out of watching their eyes flick over your body and the hickeys peeking out under your shirt and shorts, because he got to fuck your mouth and they didn’t.

+

The weekend together goes well enough, considering. You both spend so much time together, that it almost feels like nothing ever changed. You even call him Tsumtsum nii again. For those precious hours it feels just like it did when you three still lived together and the most you had to worry about was which big brother to feed your excess food. As he makes dinner the last night of your stay, there’s moments where it feels completely natural to have you so near, surrounding him in your presence. And with how busy he always is, it never even crossed his mind that maybe he was missing something in his home.

You.

It’s like the postcard of a perfect household, he smiles to himself, if maybe you were to add a few little ones into the mix. Not any time soon of course, you still have your school and he’s still too busy with his career, but in a couple of years. He doesn’t think of Osamu, and you don’t seem to either when you walk around and talk about anything and everything you can think of, like the months away took as much of a toll on you as they did on him. He smiles to himself stirring the vegetables, letting you bounce around the room and ruffling your hair any time you get close enough to.

But then you creep up behind him and squeeze yourself in between his arms to taste what he’s making, and everything rushes back. His traitorous brain imagines the way your ass would be pushing up against him if you shifted only an inch or two. And how perfect you fit into his arms, better than Osamu, and fuck— you smell so fucking good right now. His arm sneaks around your hips to pull you back into him, automatic, and he lets out a tiny breath when you freeze. Because for as wrong as it is, it’s always felt right to surround himself with you. Something Osamu must’ve been aware of, clearly.

“Niichan,” you mumble, grabbing at his arm and trying to move it back, but he’s always been much stronger than you. “Don’t touch me like that.”

“Why not? I’m just holding my little sister, since when is that a crime?” He puts the spatula aside, turning off the stove and trapping you into his hold more. “Is it because ya only want to belong to Osamu, s’that it? Even after everything I’ve done for ya?” The words tickle along your neck as he talks, leaning in more to press a kiss to your jaw. “How much I came to visit even though yer place is so far away, how much I took care of ya. It’s only natural I wanna hold you a little.” He presses his lips further along the line of your neck, losing himself in your warmth and scent so quickly.

But then you turn in his hold. “Tsumtsum nii, we can’t!” You place your hands on his chest and push, and while he barely moves, it’s rejection enough. And in some way it hurts more, because with Osamu you should have seen it as it was happening. But this, the hurt and jealousy swirling on his features, it has no right to be there. Because he knows just as well as you do that this is fucked up, and that it never should have happened. “Ya can’t. It’s not allowed, if mom and dad knew— y-you shouldn’t want me.”

And he does know. He knows, he knows, he knows that for as much as he loves you, there shouldn’t be this urge to touch you and hold you like it keeps replaying in his mind. So he apologizes, clenching his jaw and continuing with the food in silence, something that drags on the rest of the night. When you both finish brushing your teeth and he walks you to the guest room, there’s a moment where you seem to hesitate. It reminds him of that time he stayed over at your place again now, the way you’d clung to him so tight before he knew just what was happening.

You turn on your heel and take a deep breath, before suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down the distance to press your lips to his, soft and gentle and entirely different from the kisses he’s seen Osamu steal. But this is better, so much better, because you’re doing it on your own. He moves his lips back against you for a few seconds as you cling to him, a tiny noise of contentment falling from your lips when you pull back. He rests his forehead against yours as your eyes flutter, fingers gently running through the shorter hair at the base of his skull. And the warmth between you two is almost too good to be true.

It’s in that moment he can pinpoint the last of his platonic love tumble straight into more, lust and adoration and trust all mixed into one, and the worst part is that he can’t fucking bring himself to feel guilty. Not one bit. All other girls he’s ever been with pale compared to you, they always would. But you pull away from him and he has to hold himself from pulling you back close, from pressing you up against the wall and devouring you like the starved thing you leave him as. “I love ya, Tsumu niichan,” you whisper softly, swallowing through the rough patch in your voice. “But we can’t, okay? I promised Samu nii.”

“But he-”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m his —” you hesitate on the word, still letting it taste so bitter on your tongue, “he says I’m his wife, and he takes good care of me. And I love him too, so we can’t.” You pull away entirely, dropping your hands to the doorknob and twisting it, and rubbing a sleeve under your eyes. “That’s the difference between the two of ya, niichan. Yer always gonna love volleyball a bit more than ya love me, and Osamu nii is the other way around.” Then you disappear into the guest room, and he lets you. It sticks with him as he tries to close his eyes that night, brain mangled and body hot and feverish.

But he resists the urge to touch himself to you for once, because maybe this is what defeat feels like.

The drive back to Sendai in the morning, though familiar, feels awfully foreign. Everything about the place he grew up in looks wrong and he’s more irritated than ever at the mindless mumbling of the radio, but he’ll take anything to avoid having to look at you right now. As the silence continues, there’s a nagging voice that keeps coming back around. Since when does he take defeat as a valid answer? Since when does he give a shit if he has a fighting chance or not?

Walking you out of the car and to your apartment all happens on auto-pilot, his heart swelling the longer he stares at the soft curve of your face and the way you swing your arms. You crack open the door and mumble softly to yourself as he looks at you, really looks at you. And with another breath it becomes glaringly clear that you’re supposed to be just as much his, if not more. ‘Hm, Samu nii isn’t here yet. Maybe he’s at the store,’ you say, but he doesn’t hear it.

You both walk into the apartment together, you kick the door closed as his eyes fall to one of the pictures of you and Samu together. Smiling, his arm wrapped so tight around your shoulder, wind ruffling your hair and biting at your nose and cheeks. His heart drops the longer he’s forced to look at it, and you remain oblivious as you put down the bags next to your shoes. Why, that’s all that echoes through his head as he watches you, watches you drop your jacket and pick up a ring that you must’ve left at home to keep your secret. You slip it onto your finger too easily, like it barely shocks you anymore. He hates every second of it.

“Tsumtsum nii?” Before he knows it, that fighting spark in him is breaking through like a bomb, when he grabs at your arm and pulls you into him. You freeze when he kisses you, letting his mouth melt with yours and tongue slip in between your lips, the keys dropping from your hands out of shock. You arch into his touch as he kisses you breathless, pulling back and instantly littering them down your throat, collarbones, pulling your shirt down to place them down the valley of your breasts as you pant his name. “What-”

“Yer wrong,” he hisses as he looks up at you through thick lashes, sucking the soft skin above your bra and biting there. His hands are greedy and eager as he slips them under the cups of your bra, pushing the fabric up like it’s offensive. And your hands find his hair, even though you shake your face side to side, he knows you. He knows what makes you tick and makes you cry, even more than you do. Maybe more than Samu does too. He sucks your one nipple into his mouth while flicking the other, tugging on it as you moan. “Don’t tell me what ya think ya know, because yer wrong.”

He’s quick to push you toward the floor, his size and weight more than enough to make your knees buckle, putting you into place under him. He almost snaps at the way you try to hide yourself like he hasn’t seen it all before. Like he hasn’t fucked your mouth or heard how you beg to cum like you did, but this is different. This is the lust of someone who’s got something to prove, and though you love Samu enough not to say it, he knows you want him too.

“Niichan, don’t-” you try, pushing him back by his shoulders to no avail. “Samu will know.” Even hearing that name makes him grit his teeth. So fucking unfair. Why does Samu get to have you and not him? It won’t do.

Pushing you over and yanking your ass up by your hips, you let out a little breath when he grabs a handful of ass. “S’not fair,” he hisses, other hand slipping around to push two fingers to your center through your shorts. The rough feeling of the layers of fabric rubbing up against your sensitive pussy feel good, but you still try to wiggle out from under his strong grip, shaking a bit. It’s not that you don’t love him, you love him so much.

“Tsumtsum nii!” you cry, muscles straining from the unforgiving position.

You’ve always loved your big brothers equally, as much as Osamu tried to pretend that wasn’t true in the past. But you made a promise, and—

he cuts off your thoughts by letting one hand drop to your head and tangle into your hair with a pull that has you moaning. His free hand works on pulling your shorts and underwear down the curve of your ass and thighs. And he grunts at the sight of your pussy already wet and clenching around nothing. Because as much as you know it to be wrong, you still ache to have his cock.

He spits onto the hole for good measure, before bringing those rough fingertips between your bottom lips and spreading them apart, cursing under his breath. “Fuckin’ look at you, already dripping for niichan. Ya pretend to belong with Samu, but yer whoring yourself out to me so easily. Letting my fingers slip in like this, hm?”

He pushes two in despite the bit of resistance, only getting harder watching your eyes roll back as he curls his fingers into the soft walls of your pussy. The lewd squelch of your walls accepting him too easily, body resisting the urge to fuck yourself back onto him. It’s so easy to tell that you want him as much as he needs you, and he’s determined to make you say it too. “Feel good?”

You clench your jaw as your walls tighten around his thick, long digits driving in and out of you. Warm slick mixed with his spit going down your thighs and his hand, as he rubs his clothed center against your ass. “Tsumu niichan,” is all you whimper out, but it’s no longer scolding. It’s a beg, a true desperation for your big brother, and as soon as you realize this you suddenly start shifting around again. “No, niichan, you can’t. We can’t, I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

“Let him.” Tsumu knows how mean his twin can get when he drives him up the wall enough, but he needs this. Needs to feel your warm pussy wrapped around his cock, so that maybe he’ll be able to drive away those plaguing thoughts about you for good.

You try to lift yourself up from the floor, but he just pushes you back down, using one arm to keep you in place and shivering as his fingers hit the same spot over and over again. Your eyes close as tears bead at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from how overwhelming it feels to have him too. It makes you remember how it was when Samu nii first had you, but instead of only dread and shame, there’s an overwhelming need.

An ache for your empty pussy to be filled by him. It’s bad, but you cling to the fluffy carpet so easily. And his fingers feel so good inside, making your entire body feel right. When he pulls those long fingers out of you to rub the wetness over your sensitive clit, you whimper again, biting your lip to keep it in. Blood rushes between your ears, letting you hear only the pounding of your heart and the way he hisses when settling between your spread thighs. “I know yer gonna beg me for it,” he says, and as cocky as it sounds, he’s right. You both know it.

He fiddles with his belt only a second before getting the zipper and pushing his pants down his thick legs, taking his boxers with them. It’s been too long since he got any sort of proper relief. His hand never fully satisfied him, and any girl he found in his bed always looked like you, but never enough.

There was always something that left him pent up and frankly, losing his mind, because they didn’t moan or beg or sound like you. Didn’t call him niichan like you. The one time he dared ask a hookup to call him that, it had felt so wrong that he’d asked her to leave early. His cock is rock hard as it slaps up against his stomach, drooling enough precum to make the entire head look glazed, all because of you. All because his little sister is a brother fucker, and his own jealousy and devotion even worse.

You reach up a hand and bite into it to keep quiet when he nudges your legs apart more. And you obediently stay in place, which makes his cock twitch and his balls feel even heavier. No wonder Samu loves you this much. Eyes half shut and wet lines running from them, looking so fucking pretty for him. He leans in, pressing the glistening head of his cock to your warm hole and slipping in.

Though your chest heaves and you shake a little, you accept him inside so sweetly. Like he imagined you would. He pushes in a few inches at a time and watches your face scrunch up each time he fills you out further, walls clinging to his fat cock as he pulls back a little. “Fuck, yer so tight. So fucking tight and wet.” He keeps going until you throw your head back and moan into your palm, a mix of a cry and a call for his name, all muffled.

He frowns as he pushes in even more, finally bottoming out and pulling your hand away from your face. “No. Make noise, let me hear you. I deserve this much,” he grunts, pushing the head of his cock up against the end of your walls, watching you twitch and whimper, fat tears rolling down your temples. You’re so fucking beautiful for him. “Ya deserve yer big brother’s cock like this, hm? You want it.”

Clenching your eyes shut so tight, you cry out for him again, throwing your arm back and clinging to the soft fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. And fuck— he understands. He’s never felt this fucking good, and he barely moved so far. “Gonna fuck into you how ya deserve,” he promises, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth as you struggle for words, legs shaking.

He pulls his hips back then, leaving your dripping cunt empty, before pushing back in entirely and filling you up in a single thrust that has you really crying out. Nails digging into his muscular back and hips pushing back on him, you sob. “Niichan, niichan, your cock f-feels ah, so, s-so good. Love -hngg, love ya, Tsumtsum nii.” He pulls back again, pushing back in faster this time and building a rhythm that has you fucked stupid.

Tits bouncing and mouth dropped open, you let him fuck you like a man starved, dripping around his cock. You can’t even pretend like you don’t want him this much, because when he looks down he can see the ring of white around the base of his cock and the wetness dripping down your pussy. “Love ya too, pretty girl. Taking niichan’s fat cock so well.”

He grabs your hips tighter, leaving little ovals where his fingertips dig in, rutting himself into you with the pounding rhythm until you’re seeing double and you have to shut your eyes tightly. “Say my name, come on,” he grunts, grabbing a handful of hair for a second so he can watch your face as it contorts, heated and looking so perfectly fucked out because of him. It’s heavenly. You clench around his fat length as it slides back in each time, basically shivering from the overwhelming feeling that comes each time the head of his cock pushes into your gummy walls. “Who’s fucking ya like this?”

“Tsumu niichan,” you sob, reaching behind you to reach for something to hold onto, and he untangles his fingers from your hair to grab your hand, holding onto you with a gentleness you don’t expect. You’re left a babbling mess each time he bottoms out so good, barely coherent. “Feel s’good and big, p- can’t take it, niichan. Please, pleasepleaseplease, can’t.”

“Yes, ya fuckin’ can.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he pounds into you, before suddenly grunting and pulling out. “Yer gonna cum, huh? Cum on niichan’s cock like this.” He’s quick to turn you around and push your shaking thighs apart, his lips softly curling upwards as he urges your legs around his glutes. He positions himself back over you, turning your face toward him and laying a long, deep kiss on your lips.

You barely have the energy to kiss back, but moan into it anyway. Then he pulls back enough to hold himself up on one arm and pistons his hips into you, his cock twitching inside you.  One hand dipping between your legs to rub your puffy clit for a few more seconds is all it takes for you to lock your legs around him and grab onto him with a breathless cry of his name, clenching so hard it almost pushes him out. “Atsumu nii!” you whimper, string of mumbled swears being muffled as he kisses you and tangles his tongue with yours.

“My good, little sister, yer perfect for me,” he grunts, pushing himself back up and grabbing hold of your hips to tilt them into him more for access. “Gonna cum, pretty girl. Take it all.” Sweat drips down his chest under his shirt before he groans, muscles clenching and his hands going a bit shaky with the effort put into his lazer focus on your creaming pussy.

The sight of you so fucked out and the way your walls still cling to him any time he pulls out, your tits bouncing with his rhythm, is enough to make him spill his hot cum into you with a last few thrusts. “Fuck -hng, fuckfuck— yer mine!” He lays down onto you and covers you entirely in his heat as he presses his lips back to yours for more slow, deep kisses that make you entirely spaced out.

Your brain blissed out and still trying to catch your breath, you let him kiss you for a few minutes, cock still inside you despite the overstimulation. But you couldn’t ask him to move if you tried. After a little bit of basking in each other’s warmth, he bites his lip to hold in a hiss. The door clicks, as he pushes himself up from you to slip out and sit back onto his heels, brushing his fingers along your cheek. The door swings open.

Your eyes widen as you look over. Samu’s face stays completely impassive for a few moments, before his darkening eyes flick between the two of you. The blond frowns as he scoops you up against him. “Well, would’ya look at that,” Samu clicks his tongue. Hurt and accusation meets understanding when Tsumu wraps his arms closer around you and rests his chin on your shoulder.

The affectionate sight makes Osamu’s nose scrunch, as he drops his bags of groceries and kicks off his shoes. And maybe he’d be right being so mad, if he hadn’t taken your body the exact same way too many times to count. “Ya said ya’d keep him away from what’s mine,” he hisses at you, but with your shaking bottom lip and arms wrapped around yourself for protection, most of his anger is shifted to Tsumu instead. ”And I thought I told you to keep yer fucking hands off’a her, brother.”

[conaionaru]

Moral of the story (Modern Bjorn)

Who knew

Synopsis: As a single father, Bjorn doesn't have much time to move on from his wife Thorunn. When Marjorie Potts stumbles into his life.

Warning: Slowburn, friends to lovers, modern au, Siggy lives, abusive ex

I don't own the gifs.

Unstrapping his little daughter from her car seat, Bjorn made his way to his house. It was new, a gift from his father to have a fresh start. It was closer to Ragnar's new family. Siggy liked being close to her uncles and little cousins.

The five-year-old run after him; her pigtails were bouncing happily as she clutched her stuffed bear in her hands.

Banging caused the two to stop. By the neighbor's house, a car parked on the lawn, ruining the grass. A man stood by the door, trying to get in. But somebody from the inside struggled to keep him out.

"Who is he?" He heard an older lady ask as three grandmas walked by.

"No idea. Never seen him before. The girl lives all alone."

"Maybe an old boyfriend. Mabel. Call the police on him. He is up to no good."

True to their word, the drunken man banged on the door and screamed loudly. "Let go, you, bitch! Fuxking whore, though you could fool me? Moving won't save you, Marjorie!"

Bjorn frowned at the yelling and left his daughter with the three women. He marched to the man just as he managed to rip the door open.

"Stop running!"

"Hey! Let her go."

The man turned around to look at Bjorn stalking towards him. "Don't interrupt. We are in the middle of something."

The redheaded girl used the moment to try and slam the door closed, but the man put his foot in the crack and slammed the door open. The force bashed the girl's head against the wood and collapsing on the ground in pain. She cursed as he raised his arm to hit her, but Bjorn wrapped her arm around his wrist and wrenched him off her.

The flashing lights of the police alerted them that the fight was over. The man ripped himself out of Bjorn's chokehold and pointed an accusing finger at him. The Ragnarsson ignored him and helped the girl up from the ground. "Are you alright? Do you see double?"

"Thanks."

The ginger looked over her shoulder at the yelling men getting restrained by the police. "I will fucking kill you, bitch! How dare you cuff me! Wait till my father hears about this! He will get you all fired! Do you hear me?!"

"Maam." A policewoman called out and walked to Bjorn and his neighbor with a medical kit in her hands. "How about we patch you up, and you can make a statement."

"I can do it here too."

The policewoman nodded and took out a notepad after patching up her head wound. The scratch on her forehead was bleeding a little bit and probably hurt like a bitch. The old ladies carried Siggy to Bjorn, who also had to make a statement. 

During his interview, he heard the girl's conversation with the cops. "He is my ex. Andrew Doyle. D-O-Y-L-E."

"Has he beat you before? Any attacks of any kind? Before or after your break-up."

"During. This is the first time he saw me since we split up. I moved to have a new start."

When all the turmoil slowed, Bjorn was left alone with his daughter and neighbor, who looked at her busted door in disdain. "I know someone who can repair it. I could call him."

The ginger looked back at him and frowned before sighing and nodding. She put her hands in her pockets as she watched the tall, broad man fish his phone out of his pocket while his little daughter runs around him in circles.

She was a cute child with dark brown eyes and strawberry blonde curly hair in two pigtails. Attentive and curious, stealing glances at the strange woman every once in a while. 

"He will come to look at it in two hours."

"Thanks... I don't know your name."

Bjorn chuckled and extended his hand to her. "Bjorn Lothbrok. This is my daughter Siggy. We are new here."

She smiled at him halfheartedly and shrugged, shaking his hand. "Joy Potts. A resident for a month. Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." She turned on her heel to go into her home, but Bjorn called out to her once more.

"You could wait at my house. It would be safer." Joy frowned at his offer and tried to decline, but Siggy run-up to her, smiling. 

"You could play with me! Or do my hair. My Daddy is bad at it."

"I am not." He tried to protest, but Siggy shook her head and looked up at the ginger with puppy dog eyes. 

Fuck me. "Sure."

And so she ended up in a house way too huge for a single father and his little daughter. The guy had five guest bedrooms! If he rented the thing out, he could buy another car instead of the Mercedes parked out front. But the tall blonde seemed like a good guy, you know, for a rich dude. 

Joy subtly looked over his kitchen as he tried to cook something for all of them. The wine bottle on the top shelf seemed old, judging by the lair of dust on it, and very welcoming. "Do you want some? I could open it." 

She shook her head and smiled sheepishly at Bjorn's confused look. "Just trying to seize you up. You know, if I am not in the house of a psychopath." 

He chuckled and pointed at the five-year-old girl painting behind the dinner table. "I have a kid."

"Psychos have sperm too. I am sure attractive ones have some kids. Ted Bundy made on in prison." She shrugged and smirked at his bewildered expression. He invited her into his home, let him bear the consequences. She was way too fucking tired to tip-toe around him.

"Fair point." He shrugged and stirred the sauce in the pot. Joy shook her head at the technique and walked over to him to peer into the pot.

"Does food involve my stay here?" Bjorn nodded and grinned proudly at his creation that...honestly looked poisoned. "I will pass then."

"It doesn't look that bad!"

"Daddy's right! It smells worse!" Siggy called from her spot on the dinner table and run over to Joy and her father to show them her picture. It was a cute scene of her, her father, and many other people with names over them. Some of the letters were backward. But Joy could make out the words "Ubbe" and "Ivar." The last one looked like an angry troll.

"It's not so bad. I am sure it can be saved." With an unsure grin, Joy tasted the pasta sauce. It tasted horrid, so she spent the next two minutes perfecting the disaster enough so it could be edible. 

The dinner was rather quiet; Siggy ate the spaghetti happily, getting the sauce all over her. Bjorn opened the bottle of white wine, so hopefully, the awkward tension would ease. Joy was never really a people person. She liked her privacy and scandals to be her own business. After her relationship with Andrew, she lost all her friends and wasn't that bummed about it. Moving far away is easier when you had no attachments. No need to burn bridges to keep yourself safe when they were all ashes already.

"So... Why did you move here? Usually, people like you don't move into neighborhoods filled with old ladies. Or is that your type?" Maybe the wine wasn't the best decision, but she always made the wrong choices. So no surprise there, let her big mouth insult the guy that gave her shelter and fed her.

Bjorn just chuckled and looked at Siggy's adorable happy face. "I needed a quiet place to raise my daughter. Far away from my teenage brothers and my dad's new wife. And you? What's a girl like you doing here?"

Joy smirked and finished her third glass of red wine. "Escaping mostly."

"From him?"

The smile dropped from her face. Why was she even shocked at the answer? He did save her from Andrew and heard her talk with the cops. "Him and other people. Rumors, knowing eyes, judgment. It was tiring, and I needed an escape. So I thought, where would no one normally want to move? And I came here."

"No one but me, I guess. Or do I not count as normal? A guy like me? What does that even mean, by the way?"

She poured the rest of the bottle into her glass and swirled the liquid around, trying to sort her thoughts. "A guy that came from money, obviously. Otherwise, you couldn't afford a place like this. And you also invited a stranger you just met into your home. What if I was a psychopath that could kill you?"

"We can't both by psychos, can we? What would the odds be?" They both shared a laugh, Siggy asking for seconds right after. Joy couldn't look at the messy face, so she took a napkin and wiped at Siggy's face. 

"Nooo. I want to be messy. It's like make-up. It will make me pretty." Siggy whined while Joy and Bjorn laughed at her. 

"It doesn't match your skin tone, honey." Joy joked and threw the dirty napkin away. The doorbell rang right after, so Bjorn went to open the door. The man that walked in after him, was tall and lanky. 

He was the one that was supposed to fix the door. So Floki, Bjorn, Siggy, and Joy went to her home to look at the damage. The ginger led them into her living room, where Floki spread his tools and went to hang down the door. She would need a new lock and some damage control, but it would be working within the hour. 

Siggy looked around the room and then settled on the couch to watch TV. After asking Joy to do something with her hair, of course. Bjorn used the moment to look around. Despite her living here longer than him, Joy's house was impersonal. Just easily decorated to pack up faster if needed. 

The Lothbrok understood that she was probably on the run from Andrew, but the house looked so empty. No photos or anything to show that someone actually lived here. One thing that caught his attention were dog tags on the wall. "They were my dad's. Marine."

"My brother wanted to enlist, but our Dad talked him out of it. Said Ubbe wouldn't handle the violence and blood full time. Ivar still holds it over him until now." Bjorn snorted in amusement, causing Joy to laugh too. 

"Annoying little shit, brother? Know what that's like."

"Brothers?"

Joy rolled her eyes and looked at him, resting her chin against the back of the beige couch. "Two. One older, one younger. Annoying, overprotective, and a nightmare to live with as a teenage girl."

"Well, there are 13 years between me and Ubbe, who's the oldest. Bringing girls home was very hard when a little boy is following you like a lost puppy." 

Joy snorted and grinned at Bjorn's confused look. "Boohoo. Poor Bjorn couldn't get it on. My brothers threatened my first boy friend, not even dating, just project partners. The guy couldn't even walk in the same hall as me. My youngest brother banged pots outside my door after I came home from a party for the first time."

"My dad used to blast Queen right next to my ear. Sat there and laughed at my misery when he found me hugging the toilet. I still think he has blackmail material from that time."

Laughing at their pasts was so easy. As if they had known each other for years. It has been a long time since Bjorn could spend time with someone that wasn't family or work-related. "So the door is fixed. It looks like nothing ever happened."

Floki giggled while walking in. Joy jumped up to pay him, but the tall stranger stopped her. "Anything for a friend of Bjorn."

"We aren't exactly-"

"Thank you, Floki. Say hi to Helga and Angrboða for me!" Bjorn cut her off and led the men out, saying something about a playdate between their girls.

Floki looked the tall man over and grinned. "You know, you could bring Siggy tomorrow and ask the girl out. You aren't really subtle."

"I don't like Joy like that. I know her for a few hours."

"Never stop you before, Big Bear." The younger male mock glared at Floki, who just snickered and left.

When he walked back into the room, Joy and Siggy played a card game, and his daughter's hair was in two braids. "Strange fellow, isn't he?"

He shrugged and went to help Siggy win. "Known him since birth. He is my parent's friend since they were all my age. His wife and daughter are sweet, though."

After the game, Bjorn took Siggy to leave, the little girl hugging Joy as a goodbye. He looked at them and sighed. "I wanted to ask you... Would you like to go out for a drink? As neighbors and new friends, nothing serious."

Joy smirked at his stammering and nodded. "Are you going to ask the old ladies out too? I would like to see that."

"Oh yes, I have a knitting lesson planned out with each one." They laughed again and parted ways.

Joy stood there, dreading what would come during the "date." She was in no mood for a relationship so soon after Andrew. Especially after today. But if he really wants to just be friends, then fine. If he ends up in the friend zone, that's on him. 

So the next day, she spent minimal time on her make-up and clothes. If he wants to be friends, he should get used to her looking like a gremlin. But she better ease him into it; we don't want him to get a heart attack so young, do we?

Sitting at the bar and waiting for him felt weird. Joy felt desperate and ridiculous in her jeans and leather jacket. She felt like everyone kept staring, and every laugh felt like it was meant to be about her. 

 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh

The song on the stereo made her feel old. It was released in the 2000s when she was a kid. She listened to that song constantly when it came up on the radio and sang along. Now the young people in the bar looked at the stereo in confusion, unfamiliar to the hit. 

"But he doesn't know who I am. And he doesn't give a damn about me." Bjorn sang from behind her, grinning at her shocked expression.

"You sing fine, but your timing's shit." Joy teased as he sat down and ordered a whiskey like her.

"I was held up, spilled something over my shirt, and had to change. But I am here." He grinned at her and froze. What were they supposed to talk about now? The weather? Sports? Since when was he so bad at this?!

Joy looked at him with curious eyes and sighed. "I just want to remind you, no feelings."

"That won't be hard." Bjorn shook his head; Joy raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Am I that ugly?"

"More like I am too busy with Siggy. And I guess you aren't ready either. Moving on from her mom is... hard. I would rather like a friend that doesn't want to see me naked or something from me other than company."

Joy smiled at nodded. "Good. I am not the best adept for that, but your funeral."

"Why do you think that?"

Telling him about her severe self-hate problems and antisocial lifestyle wasn't an option. So she decided to go another route. "Just saying that how we met isn't the best friendship set up. You don't usually see that in movies."

Bjorn shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Well, this isn't a movie. Or do you see hidden cameras here, huh?"

"You got me there, Lothbrok. So tell me, neighbor... Where are you from?"

"My Dad lives in Kattegat, Mom, and sister in Hedeby. I lived in between and with Dad at the end. What about you?"

Joy played with a strand of her hair, bobbing her head to the end of "teenage dirtbag." 

How does she know who I am?

And why does she give a damn about me?

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby

Come with me Friday, don't say maybe

I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you

She looked down into her glass and smiled nostalgically. "We moved from Topeka, Kansas, to Oslo when Mom was pregnant with my big brother. Lived there ever since. So when the shit with Andrew was over, I moved here to Copenhagen. I figured big city, fewer people to know me. But I wanted a quieter neighborhood, so here I am."

"What about work? Do you work here in the city?" 

"Right now, nowhere. I used to bartend before, but right now, I do occasional work. Watching kids, cleaning houses, I tried gardening once. It ended badly."

"So that's why your lawn looks shitty." 

Joy gasped and hit the giggling Bjorn on the shoulder. "What's your job? Profesional asshole? Is that just part-time?"

"A hobby, really. I worked in my dad's company with Ubbe but didn't have time for Siggy. So now I am a personal trainer. So if you want to learn how to beat people up, tell me." She smiled at the invitation and clanged glasses with him.

"To a nice friendship between two idiots." 

"Skol!"

[pynkhues]

What’s you top 5 unpopular good girls ships?

I am eternally blessed, anon, because all my ships for Good Girls are pretty popular, haha. I’m all about Beth x Rio, Ruby x Stan, Dean x Suffering, Boomer x Grievous Bodily Harm! Even my non-canon ships like Annie x Nancy or Annie x JT are pretty popular! 

So instead, I’m offering you five crack ships and I’ve written the scenarios where I think they could work, because I am a glutton for punishment, haha. One of them I actually want to write, but I’m not going to say which, because I don’t want anyone to peer pressure me into writing it, hahaha. (I have way too many WIPs!)

Below a cut to save your feeds.

1. Krystal x Lucy

Okay, SO, I accidentally wrote them into the pornstar au, and ever since the thought came to me, it’s latched on like a parasite! I love the thought of them both having someone in their corner in the way that we sort of know they don’t? Lucy really needed somebody who could fight for her and was more clued into the world than either herself or Max, and Krystal pretty clearly needs someone who’s kind to her. Plus Krystal would edge out some of Lucy’s cutesyness, while Lucy would ground Krystal, and idk! I just think they’d be cute!

Okay, scenario though – I’m thinking the Hill’s have a Christmas party. Lucy and Max have recently broken up and Beth feels bad for her, so invites her to be her plus-one (or, well, plus seventh after Rio and the kids), and the gesture’s a nice one, but Beth is instantly distracted by helping Ruby get the food out or with Jane and Marcus inevitably causing havoc, and so Lucy ends up wallflowering, watching everyone else just - - know each other, right? 

And maybe Krystal sees her and maybe she’s a few drinks in already, so it’s not like it takes much to grab another cup of spiked eggnog and tumble against the wall beside Lucy. And maybe it’s awkward at first, because Lucy’s sort of weird, but maybe Krystal kind of likes that, and maybe Lucy compliments Krystal’s ugly snowman earrings, and Krystal really does think Lucy’s reindeer sweater is cute, and maybe Lucy falls a little in love when Krystal sings bawdy Christmas songs, her arm slung over Ruby’s shoulder, and Krystal falls a little in love when Lucy is unfairly good at drunk pictionary, and maybe it feels like they’ve known each other a lot longer than a night (and maybe they want to make sure they will). 

2. Mick x Mary Pat. 

Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out. 

So it finally happens. Rio finds out who Mary Pat is, what she’s done – that she’s Beth’s rotten egg – and y’know, Rio isn’t playing around anymore. He wants to send Beth a message, and what better way to do that than to handle the third person she couldn’t after Turner and Boomer? So he sends Mick off with an order.

And so Mick watches for a few days – keeps an eye on her schedule, her routine, carving out a plan to handle her as smoothly as possible (he’s not Rio after all, he doesn’t hand guns to women he’s just kidnapped, y’know?) – and starts to get a sense of her. Sure, maybe he feels a little bad. She has a lot of kids, y’know? And always seems pretty frazzled, at the end of her rope, but sort of sweet. She goes to church, sings in a choir, makes pancakes from a box, sure, but she adds both choc chips and blueberries which is a pretty good combo, and maybe it’s hard to believe she’s swept up in all of this, but then it was hard to believe Mrs Boland and that sweet girl from Paper Porcupine had been too. 

Still, Mick knows what he’s doing, y’know? 

He’s not Rio. He’ll finish the job.

So he steals into her house late at night, moving down to her bedroom, intending to take her outside, handle her away from the kids at least, when suddenly a wild Mary Pat appears! Brandishing a huge knife. 

Mick staggers back! Alarmed, and Mary Pat thrusts it at him, knowing exactly how long he’s been watching her and what does he think she is??? NEW to this??? She worked with the FBI! Okay, not --  not worked with them, but y’know, an agent was on her case for a while, and Mary Pat is not as stupid as her Uncle Larry told her that one time, and okay, Mick thinks, staggering back into his seat, eyes fixed on the knife Mary Pat is waving around at him. 

You wanna talk this out? 

It’s the wrong thing to say, because no, she doesn’t especially, and they just sort of stare at each other for a minute, trying to figure out what happens next when Billy wakes up and trots down the hallway, and he’s had a bad dream about the bad man, and for a minute, Mick thinks he’s talking about him, but then Mary Pat says something about how Boomer won’t ever step foot in this house again, and with the way she’s holding that knife, Mick is inclined to believe her. 

And then, well, Billy asks for pancakes. 

So that’s how Mick ends up eating pancakes with Mary Pat and three of her four kids at 2 in the morning, and y’know, he’s not a total asshole. He’s going to stay and help her clean up afterwards, and maybe it’s sort of nice, now that she’s put the knife down (although it is still in reaching distance, and honestly, he respects that), now that his gun’s back in his pants. 

And well, he can’t exactly kill a woman who just made him pancakes, so he figures next time, only next time, Mary Pat’s already cooking, and then the time after that, she’s already set him a plate, and maybe the time after that, she kisses him, and maybe the time after that, he kisses her first, and at least when Rio asks, Mick can just give him a look, because it isn’t like he doesn’t have his own batshit crazy mother of four he can’t kill. 

3. Rhea x Phoebe. 

So, y’know. Phoebe’s good at her job. 

Phoebe knows how to do a stakeout, to keep tabs, to collect intel. She revels in every part of the chase, every part of the puzzle, every part of the game of it all, because she knows that what she’s doing is right, she’s cleaning up the streets! Making the world a better place! But - - okay, she’ll be the first to admit that she already finds her marks exhausting.

Not so much Hill and Marks. They’re sort of fun to keep tabs on (and lowkey, Phoebe really does maybe daydream sometimes about what it might be like to sit on the couch and watch bad reality shows with them, drinking cheap wine and creamy, herb crusted cheeses). Even Boland is kind of awesome when she’s not with him. 

Because the thing is, as soon as Boland and the Big Kahuna are together, everything just gets a little - - hm. What’s the word for it? 

(”Nothing like watching a crime lord pull pigtails,” Henry had said on one stakeout, headphones on as they’d watched from afar as Big Kahuna had swung in close to Boland, said something that made her flush red and try to stamp on his foot. “Can’t wait until they graduate to passing notes. At least then there might be something we can use.”) 

And, well. It’s not like he’s wrong.

So maybe she starts to get bored of watching the highschool antics of them (as has everyone else, she thinks, if the looks on their faces is anything to go by - including the hitman clearly trying to take one, or both of them out [and please, a little part of Phoebe thinks, watching as Big Kahuna drags a finger across the back of Boland’s knuckles, and Boland wait until he’s gone to order the most expensive liquor in the bar to Big Kahuna’s tab]). Maybe that makes her dig a little deeper. 

Maybe that’s how she finds herself watching an under-9′s soccer game in a fold-out chair beside Big Kahuna’s baby mama. (She tells her she’s researching, so it’s not technically a lie, even if the cover of starting to coach a team of her own in the fall is a thin one).

And okay, maybe they hit it off. Which is kind of cool, Phoebe thinks, because it turns out Rhea is kind of cool (how she put up with Big Kahuna is a total mystery to her), and y’know, she’s actually pretty? LIke, pretty pretty. And nice, and totally normal, and maybe they get a coffee after the game, and catch a movie on the weekend, and maybe sometimes Phoebe forgets to fish about Big Kahuna at all, but that’s an easy mistake to make, and maybe Henry gives her a Look when he hears about it, but it’s nothing, Phoebe thinks.

She’s just doing her due diligence. 

Being thorough, y’know? 

I mean, who even knows when information could come out, and Phoebe’s just laying the groundwork anyway, she thinks, watching the line of Rhea’s neck, the purse of her lips, blinking rapidly when Rhea leans across the table, the curve of her breast visible beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, and says: “I know you’re a fed.” 

And Phoebe splutters as Rhea keeps leaning forwards. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything about him.” 

And what can Phoebe say except okay, something in her chest tightening at - - at what, Phoebe has no idea. Just knows that Rhea’s so close she can feel the other woman’s breath on her cheek.  

“I just want to be clear about that,” she tells her. “If we’re going to do this.” 

And Phoebe blinks, owlish at Rhea, pulse rapid and mouth dry as she asks: “Do what?” 

And well, it turns out Phoebe likes Rhea even more when she’s kissing her.

4. Greg x Dr. Josh.

Okay, so maybe two things happen. 

Maybe it’s a party of something when Annie finally turns around and tells Greg about kissing her therapist, and honestly, Greg shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Annie does, after all, and telling her off never really gets him anywhere, so he pours them both another drink, and - - sure, maybe another. 

Then maybe a few more. 

Because it’s just like they’re in this loop, y’know? Him and her. Like she fucks up and it’s not like she expects him to clean up after her (he’s not Beth), but it’s like there’s something in Annie where she needs him to know about it, and that just really gets to him sometimes, because like, Annie’s not his responsibility just because they have a kid together. Besides, he has Nancy now, so it’s not like he needs Annie, and even thinking about Nancy sort of makes him want to go and find her, so then he’s drunkenly stumbling around this party, looking for that cape of perfect blonde hair, and okay, maybe that’s when the second thing happens.

Annie. Nancy. Closet. Necking. Maybe a shirt’s off? There’s a lot of like - - like mouths and hand stuff and Greg slams the door shut and maybe goes and lies on the grass outside for a while. 

And okay, maybe it’s not a surprise either. Maybe this is also what Annie does too, but still, he stews on it, and then stews on it some more, and so what if he interrogates Ben for this therapist’s address, because like - - hadn’t Annie been going to him for months? How could this guy make everything worse. 

And sure, maybe storming into the guy’s office, drunk on anger this time instead of beer, isn’t the best idea, but he’s just - - pissed, y’know? And maybe he yells at the guy about where he gets off, kissing patients. Making his patients kiss his wife, and okay, the guy’s pale at first, but then is sort of nice, and they sit on the beanbags and talk for a bit about Hurricane Annie, and actually, he’s finished work for the day, so maybe they should go get a beer or whatever? 

And maybe later, when Josh drops a nervous hand to his knee and awkwardly closes the distance between them, when Greg’s kissing back, he does sort of wonder if he and Annie won’t always be pulling from the same pool. 

5. Turner x Noah. 

Come on. We all saw s2. There’s no way Turner didn’t offer a, ahem, hand to help Noah get over Annie.