#and eventually he funds out its really comfortable and starts to like it

[masterofiodine]

bbc ghosts modern au!!

making up their outfits was really fun (especially kitty and thomas, he would look great in skirt)

[ihops-golden-closet]

How To Care For A Bunny 101

Pairing: Jungkook x Bunny Hybrid Reader, mentions of Dog Hybrid Jimin x Bunny Hybrid Reader

Genre: Domestic, Smut, Fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of the past, a little bit of sliding timelines

Rating: 18+

Summary: You were head over heels for your owner but you always buried your feelings in fear of damaging your relationship with Jungkook. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was also in the exact same predicament. After you experience your heat for the first time, Jungkook decides it's finally time for him to come clean.

Author's Note: Hello! This is the first piece of work that I am uploading to this site. I hope I don't scare anyone off of here. A bit of a warning but there is a bit of a sliding timeline here. If this gets confusing, I would appreciate the feedback. If you liked this story, please leave a like and give my blog a follow! I would really appreciate it!

Italics=Past

Clutching the stuffed animal closer to your body, you watched as the alarm clock struck midnight. It’s been over an hour since the tattoo shop that your owner works at was supposed to close but Jungkook has yet to arrive home. The stuffed toy, which you affectionately named Cooky, was a birthday gift your owner had gotten you. In times when you feel lonely, such as this one, Cooky provides some comfort but you would rather be cuddled up in Jungkook’s arms as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle singing.  

It didn’t take long for you to fall head over heels for Jungkook after you started living with him. How could you not? Jungkook was everything a girl could want. He was sweet, had the voice of an angel, attractive (although you always felt too shy to tell him that), and cherished every moment he spent with you among other things. Most importantly, he cared for you, a feeling you were robbed of growing up in that wretched hybrid care center you used to call home.

You don’t think of your past home as much as you used to. Preferring the memories you make now with your loving owner than the lonely ones back at your old home. It was at this bunny hybrid care center that you could recall your earliest memories. It was there where you were raised by the facility’s caretakers and received your education, making a few casual friends along the way. As kind as some of your caretakers were, you never grew as close to any, at least not in the way you did with Jungkook. They often never stayed long to form that kind of connection anyway. It wasn’t the best place for a child, the facility not receiving as much funding as it should to properly care for its residents. You often felt alone. You had some friends but for the most part, you missed out on forming deep and meaningful bonds. 

You didn’t get adopted as a kid. Most families preferred to adopt hybrids when they were still very young. But you aged out of the preferred age bracket and eventually came to the realization that finding another home might as well be impossible. Hybrids who chose to stay could work for the center in exchange for basic housing and money (albeit a poor wage). With nowhere else to go, you really had no other option. 

That was up until Jungkook came into your life.

It was never Jungkook’s intention to adopt a hybrid. He had only come to your residence to accompany his friend Eunwoo. Eunwoo already had his own hybrid at home but wanted to adopt another one as a companion. It was on that day that Jungkook met you for the first time. 

He first came across you doodling on your sketchbook at the care center’s living room area. You were curled up in a huge chair besides the room’s massive window. He even remembered exactly what you wore that day because of how cute he thought you looked. A fluffy oversized sweater and some fuzzy socks. You were so focused on your work that you took no notice of the buzz around you.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”, Eunwoo quipped from behind Jungkook, snapping the other out of his staring daze.

“Y-yeah, she is”, Jungkook choked, feeling sheepish at being caught, “have you seen her yet?”

“No, but I’d like to get to know her”, Eunwoo shrugged, “maybe she’d be a good match for my Hana.”

After asking around a bit, Eunwoo was able to land a meet session with you that same day. He just wanted to get to know you better, see if you’d be a good match for his own hybrid at home. Being that Jungkook was already there, he stuck around for the meeting. Although if he was being honest, he was curious about you too.

-

“I like your body art.”

“Body art?”, Jungkook asked, “you mean my tattoos?”

“Oh I meant tattoos! Sorry! ”, you quickly apologized, embarrassed at your own mistake. You have seen tattoos before in magazines and in movies but didn’t know what to call them. 

“No worries, I knew what you meant”, Jungkook laughed, “wanna see them?”

“Sure!”

Jungkook giggled at your enthusiasm before removing his jacket. You blushed at the sight of his well defined biceps decorated with numerous tattoos. His body itself was it’s own work of art. The next couple of minutes were spent with you gushing over how cool Jungkook’s tattoos looked, curious to find out the meaning and detail behind every one of them. Jungkook doesn’t think he has ever met anyone as excited about tattoos as you were, especially with how innocent he thought you looked. 

Although the session was meant for Eunwoo to get to know you better, he ended up basically being third wheeled for the remainder of the enthusiastic exchange between the two of you. It didn’t bother him however, it was pretty amusing watching his friend of over a decade turn into a pile of putty in front him. 

-

“She seems smitten with you”, Eunwoo commented over his steaming cup of coffee. 

After the session was over, Eunwoo had let the staff know that he needed more time to think it over before adopting you. Both he and Jungkook deciding to stop at a cafe close by after the ordeal.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook replied over his own iced americano. 

Eunwoo shrugged before taking a sip of his own drink, “have you ever thought about adopting a hybrid?”

“No.” 

It was true, it had never really crossed Jungkook’s mind before. He knows of people who have, and from his perspective, it seems like a huge hassle. There are specific diets, expensive medical visits, the dreaded heat spells, and who knows how many more complications out there.

“Well if you ever change your mind, I know a cute one.”

-

Being a new and relatively inexperienced owner, Jungkook missed all red flags of your impending first heat. You were extra affectionate and clingy. Not that it bothered him at all. He loved basking in the extra attention and affection you provided, chalking it up to you simply missing him due to the heavy work schedule he had that week. 

Then it was the restlessness. Just before he left for work or to run errands in the morning, he would stop by your room to check up on you only you find you still awake from the night before with red eyes and a tired face. The lack of sleep was an immediate cause of concern in his eyes. He thought it warranted a doctor’s visit but you insisted that it was nothing to worry about and it was all caused by you staying up late to play games on your computer. His instincts told him it was something else but he took your word for it anyway and decided to wait and see if your sleep improved.

He finally dragged you to see the doctor after your restlessness only worsened and you started to complain of hot flashes. You tried to brush that off with different excuses as well but nothing you said this time was going to stop this doctor’s visit from happening.

-

“She’s experiencing her first heat.”

Jungkook nearly chocked on his own salvia upon hearing those words come out the doctor so nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. It hadn’t even been 5 minutes since Jungkook described your symptoms to the middle aged woman before she already had a diagnosis.

“Are you sure? I mean, the symptoms are kind of broad, could it not be an indiction of something else?”

“I’m positive”, she left out a laugh and adjusted her glasses, “I see it all the time. Besides, she’s due for one. I’d be more concerned if she hadn’t experience her heat yet.”

Jungkook chewed his lip. He had researched your symptoms on his own and found that your symptoms marked all the signs of a hybrid heat but he had just wanted to make sure. He felt his heart drop as he remembered all the posts recommending hybrids go through their heats with other hybrids. 

“I see…she’s going to need a hybrid partner, right?”

“Ideally, yes. However, any partner will do so long as she has her needs met. Whether you decide to find her a hybrid partner or assist her yourself is going to be something for you and her to decide.”

As much as he despised the idea of another man touching you, Jungkook knew that he had to set his feelings aside and do what’s best for you. He didn’t want to take advantage of your instincts.

He knew of another hybrid like you who could help you through your heat. Jimin, a dog hybrid, was his coworker and one of his closest friends. Many businesses actively discriminate against hybrids and typically don’t hire them but Seokjin had known Jimin for a while and knew it’d be silly to pass out on a valuable employee because he happened to have ears and a fluffy tail. Most customers loved Jimin anyway because of his charm and skills, few ever turned him away for his hybrid status. 

He feels uneasy at the prospect of asking Jimin if he would be willing to help you with such an intimate activity but he knew he could trust Jimin. Sex between hybrids is almost always done for instinctual needs and intimacy isn’t an aspect typically involved but Jungkook can’t help but feel his stomach churn at the thought.

-

“I’ll do it.”

Jungkook felt his heart drop a bit. Theoretically, he should be thankful that Jimin didn’t outright turn on him or even worse, cut all contact with him then and there. But still, part of him had hoped for a little more resistance from the hybrid.

“A-are you sure?”, Jungkook hopes Jimin doesn’t catch on to the reluctance in his voice.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? I know how much of a pain heats are, especially when you don’t have a partner to help you out. She’s really lucky to have an owner like you who looks out for these kinds of things Kook.”

-

Jungkook didn’t speak to Jimin for a couple of days after that night. He knew it was a wrong and shitty thing to do but he couldn’t stomach any sort of interaction with him. Every time he looked at Jimin, the image of you beneath him crossed his mind and it haunted him. It’s not like he was mad or upset with Jimin. Jungkook was the one who had asked him for his help after all. He just needs some time to forget the whole thing. As much as Jungkook tried to not show how bothered he was by the whole ordeal, the others quickly caught on to the change in his character. He didn’t joke around or engage with the others as much as he used to.

After the tension between them became too unbearable for Jimin to handle, Jimin decided to finally confront Jungkook privately. He wanted to catch Jungkook at closing hour as soon as the others left but he’s not too sure how that’s going to work out considering Jungkook is almost always the first to leave these days. Jimin knows that was surely in an effort to avoid him since Jimin had to almost drag Jungkook out of the parlor after closing before. Fortunately for him, Jungkook had forgotten a few of his belongings back in the parlor so he had no choice but to come back and retrieve them.  

Jimin was just about done sweeping up the place when he heard the unlocking of the parlor’s door. There stood Jungkook, who looked like a deer caught under headlights as soon as he met Jimin’s stare.

“H-hey”, Jungkook could feel his hands start to get clammy as soon as he realized he was alone with Jimin, “I just realized I left some of my stuff here so I came back to pick them up.”

“Oh yea, no problem. I left them on the counter in the back”, Jimin quipped. Despite not confronting him yet, Jimin already started to feel awkward.

Jungkook bolted for the door as soon as he had grabbed all his things. He was only a few steps away from the exit when Jimin made his move.

“Jungkook, wait.”

Shit.

“Yes hyung?”, Jungkook had inched towards the door, resting his hand on the handle but he had turned around to reply to Jimin anyways.

“We should talk.”

Despite trying to avoid the situation altogether, Jungkook knew this would inevitably happen. It was difficult for him to completely hide the change in his character altogether. Jimin was also a sensitive guy by nature, he knew Jimin could feel the tension in the room become impalpable when they were together. 

Jungkook let out an awkward cough before speaking, “sure, what’s on your mind?”

He could have replied that he had somewhere to be and spared himself from the conversation at hand but he already felt like a piece of shit for avoiding Jimin. This was the least he could do.

Jimin sighed. How does one even start a conversation like this?

“Well…to be honest, I just feel like something’s changed between us”, Jimin let the words flow out, it’s too late to go back now, “I don’t if you been trying to avoid me lately but that’s the impression I’m getting. I just wanted to know…if I did something wrong or something?"

“N-no”, Jungkook suddenly felt extremely guilty, “of course not hyung. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jimin knew Jungkook was still hiding something, so he pressed further, “but something’s definitely bothering you Kook, I can tell. You know you could always tell me right? I won’t be hurt or offended.”

Jungkook sighed, he going to have to come clean for Jimin’s sake, “it’s not you hyung. Really. It’s me.”

Setting his stuff down, Jungkook decided to tell finally tell someone what was on his mind.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that…after that night between you and Y/N…I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Jungkook started trailing off again, he wanted to Jimin his true feelings but the words just keep getting lodged in his throat. Jimin was relieved to hear that he didn’t fuck up his and Jungkook’s relationship but it still bothered him to see Jungkook look so down. He’s been close friends with Jungkook for so long now that Jungkook is practically like a little brother to him. Even if Jimin isn’t the reason for change in Jungkook’s character, he’s still going to help him in any way he can.

“What do you mean? Is Y/N still in pain?”

“No”, Jungkook quickly interjected, “she’s ok now, what I’m trying to say is that this is more about me than it is her.”

Jimin thinks be beginning to understand now. 

“I love her hyung and not in a way that an owner should be with their hybrid,” Jungkook felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he began to pour out the feelings he had bottled up inside for so long, “you did nothing wrong. I’m not mad at you or anything. I just feel… hurt and jealous about the whole thing. I know it’s a shitty thing to be feeling that way but everytime I’m with you…all I can think about is you and Y/N, well y’know.”

Oh. Jimin had a small hunch about what was really going on but he never thought that Jungkook would actually come to him and confirm it. Jimin felt like shit. He was just now starting to understand just how deep Jungkook’s feelings for you ran and he had jumped in and ruined it. Jimin felt as if he had betrayed his own brother.

“Jungkook, you have to tell Y/N.”

Jungkook’s eyes doubled in size at Jimin’s word of advice. How could he tell you something like that? What if you don’t feel the same and it totally ruins your relationship? He couldn’t burden you with something like that. 

“Hyung, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea-”, Jungkook started but Jimin quickly interjected.

“You can’t carry this burden forever. And Y/N deserves to know the truth. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way if you don’t confess how you truly feel? You have to trust her.”

Jungkook understood what Jimin was getting to. His feelings were getting in the way of his relationship with you and Jimin. He had to tell you how he truly felt so he could finally let this burden go. 

He just hoped you felt the same way.

Jungkook didn’t say another word as he walked up to the dog hybrid and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. He was just glad that his relationship with Jimin could be salvaged. As vulnerable as he feels right now, it felt good for Jungkook to open up and have this talk.

“It’s going to be okay Kook”, Jimin reciprocated the younger man’s embrace, he’s grateful that Jungkook could be honest with him.

“I’m so sorry hyung for everything, I hope you can forgive me”, Jungkook felt guilty for making Jimin believe he did something wrong. He’s doesn’t deserve to have someone as kind and understanding as Jimin as a friend.

Jimin chuckled, patting Jungkook on the pat, he reassured him, “it’s ok Jungkook, I understand. That’s something hard to go through, especially when you bottle up those feelings and keep them to yourself. Everything’s gonna be ok.”

-

Jungkook’s been with a few girls here and there but his relationships never latest for more than a few dates. Not after they would find out about you. Of course, when the topic would inevitably come up, Jungkook always insisted that his relationship with you was strictly familiar. Most of the time, it would work in qwelling any relationship doubts but only temporarily. It was impossible to miss how Jungkook’s eyes would light up when you walked into the room, the attentiveness he displayed everytime you spoke, or the sweet smile and giggle he gave you when you said something funny.

Jungkook could feel himself start to feel nervous again as he fumbled with the front’s door to his apartment. Either you would awake and waiting for him (it’s a cute little habit of yours to always wait for him after work to greet him, no matter how late) or you would be snuggled up on the sofa fast asleep if you couldn’t suppress your sleepiness long enough to see him.

Jungkook finally opened the door only to be greeted to the sight of you quietly asleep on the softa. He felt his heart melt at how peaceful and gentle you looked snuggled up under the heavy pink blanket. Your face was just barely peeking out of the covers as was your favorite stuffed animal Cooky.

The conversation would have to wait until tomorrow.

Quickly locking the door behind him, Jungkook was quiet as he set his things away as to not to disturb your slumber. In times that you would fall asleep on the couch, you would wake up and find yourself in your room again. Jungkook moving you back to your bedroom the night before. As peaceful as you looked, Jungkook figured the couch probably wasn’t as comfortable as your mattress.

After Jungkook finished setting his things away, the first thing he did was pick you up as gently as possible from the couch. Being mindful of not making too much noise and making sure he brought Cooky with you, he swiftly moved you from the couch into your bedroom as if you weighed nothing. He’d get ready for bed after he moved you.

Jungkook had just set you down on your bed when he felt you stirring beneath him. Shit. He must have awoken you during the procress.

“Kook?”, you said in a voice heavy in sleep, “that you?”

“Yeah Bun, I’m just moving you”, Jungkook replied, almost whispering, “sorry for waking you, I’ll be leaving now, ‘kay?”

“Wait no, don’t go yet Kook”, you were fully awake now, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand in a weak attempt to get him to stay, “how was work?”

“It was great. Lots of clients”, Jungkook shrugged, moving to sit next to you on the bed, “you sure you don’t want me to leave so you could go to sleep baby?”

“Nah, I’m ok”, you replied with a shake of your head, “I’m fully awake now, see? Don’t worry ‘bout me. Why’d you come home so late? Was it really that busy today?”

“N-no. I just forgot some things at the parlor so I had to go back. Then me and Jimin talked for a bit about something important…”

“Oh?”, you sat up now, using your elbows to prop yourself up from the bed, “what about?”

Suddenly, the world started to feel like it was slowing down to a stop. Jungkook felt extremely vulnerable again under your curious gaze. Even more so than when he was with Jimin. He can’t recall if he ever felt as nervous and as clammy as he did right now. Can he really go through with this?

“Y/N…there’s something important that I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile now but I never had the courage to say it.”

“Yeah?”, you fully sat up now, feeling your heart speed up now in anticipation at what Jungkook had to say, “what is it Kook?”

Jungkook sighed. Why did this have to be so difficult?

“Y/N, the reason why I stayed up so late was because I told Jimin the truth about how I felt. About that night between you and Jimin. About you.” 

Jungkook was gnawing at his bottom lip now, it was too late to go back now. He had your attention completely. He felt like a 12 year old boy confessing to his crush for the first time. His heart could burst out of his chest at any second now.

“The truth is”, Jungkook took a second to clear his throat before he continued, “I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’m in love with you and I know as an owner I shouldn’t feel- hmph”

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to Jungkook’s, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. It wasn’t lustful or needy but a delicate kiss. For a second, Jungkook froze. Your lips were softer than he had imagined. You two locked lips for what seemed like forever before you gently pulled away to properly respond to Jungkook’s confession.

“I’m happy to hear that Kook because for the longest time now, I’ve loved you too. I was also scared to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same or not. I didn’t want to make you feel awkward in your own home. To be honest, I’ve always tried to hide my feelings but I knew I couldn’t ignore them anymore when you brought another girl here for the first time. It was that client from your work, remember? I felt so jealous that I cried that night. I don’t think I can handle seeing you with anybody else.”

Was this really happening or were you still dreaming? Even if this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. Not yet.

Jungkook felt the massive pressure he had carried with him for so long just dissipate in an instant. It was just like all his worries and doubts had been flushed out of his system. You loved him back. Not just in a familiar sort of way but you were in love with him too.

“Ok, I won’t ever bring another girl home again, I promise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help himself but slowly smile at your cute confession of jealously, who knew you were so possessive?

“Kook, why didn’t you help me with my heat?”

Jungkook chewed at his lip again, not knowing how to best respond, “It just didn’t feel right for me as your owner and a human to use your natural instincts as an excuse to have sex with you. I just wanted to do what was best for you and so I fiigured finding you another hybrid as a partner would be the best course of action.”

“You wouldn’t have taken advantage of me Kook, I may be a hybrid but I have enough control to know what I’m doing”, you reassured Jungkook. You were finally glad to hear that Jungkook didn’t offer himself as a partner to you because he felt unsure of himself and not because he didn’t want to be your mate, “Jiminnie… he’s nice but…I wanted you to help me.”

“Hmm, is it too late for me to take care of my baby girl?”

Maybe it was low or the raspy tone in his voice, but his words immediately made you squirm.

Taking your hands in his larger ones, he brought your hand up to his face, tentatively leaving tender kisses on your fingertips. Its little actions like this that turned you into a pile of putty in front of him.  

“Mhm”, you inched closer to him, practically purring your next words, ”I mean, it’s not too late at all, please mate with me Kook.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his lips were already back on yours at your command. Unlike your first kiss, this one quickly turned into one laced with pure lust. You moaned as you felt Jungkook’s tongue slip inside your own mouth before exploring everything he could.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook leaned back and took a couple of seconds to take you in. Here you were, beneath him and in desperate need of his touch. Even in this state you were beautiful, your hair was fanned out, eyes glossy and heavy, and your lips were parted as you let out short breaths.

In Jungkook’s attempt to better re-adjust his position to where he was hovering above you, his rapidly inflating shaft had unintentionally made contact with your clothed pussy. You moaned as you felt him rapidly stiffening under your touch.

“What do you need from me baby?”, Jungkook’s voice was laced with pure lust, “No need to be shy now, I’m all yours.”

“Want you to touch me here”, taking his hand in yours, you trailed it down to your body right down to your cunt. Your wetness had soaked through the fabric and although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you had surely left a huge stain.

You shuddered as you felt Jungkook’s larger hands finally reach the place you most wanted them.

“We just started and you already made a huge mess Bun”, Jungkook teased as he slipped his hand beneath the band of your panties. He could your slick immediately coat his fingers as he rubbed lazy circles around the sensitive flesh.

Before you could respond, Jungkook slipped his finger inside you. You were already so wet that the action brough no discomfort.

“Hngh”, you squimed at the sensation of Jungkook fully immersing a digit in you. Jungkook watched your face scrunch up in pleasure as he slipped yet another digit inside. Using his free thumb to rub small circles on your numb, Jungkook began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. He curled them slightly to fuck you at a more pleasurable angle. He only had two digits in you and yet your cunt was already squeezing tightly around him. When he moved his fingers out, he could feel your pussy try to suck them back in.

“So tight around my fingers,” Jungkook spoke, moaning at his own words,”How are you gonna handle a cock stuffed inside you, baby?”

“Mhm, I c-can handle it.”

You suddenly felt Jungkook slip his fingers out of you, instantly letting out a whine at the loss of him inside you.

“Don’t worry bunny”, Jungkook laughed at your adorable whine, “we’re not done yet.”

Jungkook pulled back, now moving himself down your body to bring himself closer to your quivering core. He was pleased to find a huge wet stain decorating the front of your panties as he gently tugged you pajamas off of you. You lifted your hips slightly so Jungkook could fully remove your pajamas off of you. After discarding your pajamas somewhere on the floor, Jungkook leaned his face in to hover over where you desperately wanted him before placing a gentle kiss through the fabric.

Hooking his fingers on the sides of your panties, he slowly peeled the fabric off, taking every second of the view. Once again, you slightly lifted your hips to assit him with taking the wet fabric off. You shuddered as you felt the cool air hit your exposed core. 

As much as he wanted to take in more of the gorgeous view in front of him, Jungkook decided not to waste time any longer and lowered himself until his face was mere centimeters from your pussy. You smelled as divine as you looked. Tentatively, he placed another soft kiss on your folds before licking a strip.

You mewled at his actions, earning a hum of satisfaction from him. 

“That felt good huh baby?”, he chucked from in-between your legs. Slipping his hands beneath your thighs, Jungkook hoisted them over his shoulders to give himself better access to your clenching pussy. 

“Mhm, want more of it Kook”, you muttered breathlessly. 

Only this time, instead of going straight for your needy cunt, Jungkook opted for a bit more foreplay to prepare you. He placed a few more gentle kisses on the surrounding flesh of your core. Very gently, he bit and sucked on a few areas, leaving behind the faint marks of hickies in some places. 

“Kook, p-please”, you were practically muttering to yourself at this point. Diving your fingers down to your pussy, you parted your lips to show Jungkook exactly where you needed him, “touch me here.”

Jungkook chuckled at your needy request, “since my princess asked so nicely...”

He dove straight to your pussy, his mouth covering the slick flesh. Jungkook wasted no time in attacking your pussy with his tongue and lapped at the slick pouring out your wet hole. A wave of pleasure washed down your entire body. It’s like you were experiencing your heat all over again only this time Jungkook was the cure.

Jungkook’s free hand came down to rub gentle circles around your clit as his tongue continued it’s assault on your cunt. With just a few more laps, you came completely undone. Your thighs began to shake as you rode off your orgasm with Jungkook’s tongue still buried in your pussy. Jungkook ensured that not a single drop of your juices went to waste. 

With your orgasm fully washing over you, Jungkook pulled away to give you a few moments to let your body calm down. His hard cock was now digging through the fabric of his jeans and his balls heavy from neglect. Never had he given himself blue balls from a sight as beautiful as this before. Catching your breath again, you felt a vivid shade of pink dust your cheeks as you caught on to Jungkook’s dilemma.

Jungkook’s hard cock sprung out from his pants the instant he peeled them off. You moaned at the sight, your thighs instantly spreading a little farther as Jungkook wasted no time in getting inbetween your legs. He looked down at you with his pupils blown out in lust as he stroked his throbbing cock.

“Ready, baby?” You nodded furiously, almost forgetting your own voice. All you could focus on was Jungkook’s throbbing cock so close to your pussy. Jungkook took notice and decided that you suffered enough to keep teasing you. Hoisting your thighs and pulling you close to his lap, Jungkook proceeded to run the tip of his cock up and down your slit. You squirmed at the sensation, instinctively pushing yourself closer to what you needed. 

“So impatient”, Jungkook let out a small laugh, though truthfully, he himself couldn’t wait much longer. You felt the air in your lungs disappear as Jungkook gently slowly pushed the tip of cock inside you.

“F-fuck”, Jungkook grunted, bottoming completely inside you. Your walls were squeezing his cock deliciously but he resisted the urge to fuck you. You were clearly still trying to adjust to his size, your face cutely screwed up in a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort at Jungkook’s full size inside you.

Jungkook took a moment to drink in the beautiful sight of you beneath him, taking him in completely. It’s like you were made for him. 

The initial discomfort of Jungkook’s cock buried inside you was quickly fading into pure bliss. You started to wiggled your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, desperate to find the relief you were looking for.

“Fuck, you know how fucking cute you are, right?”, Jungkook leaned down to peck your lips, “you’re so good for me.”

“M-move Kook, puh-please”, you stuttered, too far gone in the absolutely euphoria you were experiencing.

Taking your word, Jungkook began moving his hips in a steady rhythm. He too became increasingly more vocal the more he fucked you. He was entranced with the sight before him. Whether it was the way your breasts bounced with every thrust he made, the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your tight pussy, or your face screwed up in pure bliss. He didn’t know where to look.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you too were just as entranced at the sight before you as he was. You don’t think you can ever get enough of the sight of Jungkook’s cock sliding in and out your cunt.

You racked your hands up Jungkook’s abs and chest before wrapping them around his neck, instantly pulling him a little closer to you.

You always admired Jungkook’s well defined abs, he had the physique of a greek god. You remembered the first time you caught a glimpse of his hard abs and how weak in the knees it made you. Jungkook had just come out of shower with only a pair of sweats on. You were in the living room, buried in a book when he strotted into the kitchen to grab a bottle water. You remembered blushing furiously as you tried to hide your face behind your book before he could catch you staring. Since then, you dreamt of feeling his abs beneath your fingertips.

Once again, you felt your breath hitched in your throat as Jungkook leaned his face only a few centimeters away from yours. He was now resting himself on his forearms from above you. Your heart was beating in your ears now from how close his face was to yours. You could feel his warm breath on your skin and you could count every eyelash as he fluttered

Catching you by surprise, Jungkook pressed his lips onto yours, snaking his tongue into your mouth. As he pulled away, a thin string of salivia connected you two.

“How could I have been such a fucking idiot to let another man have you like this?”

“M-mhm, no need to worry Kook”, as fucked out as you were right now, you managed to pull yourself together to give him a coherent reply, “a-am all yours..”

Jungkook felt his heart swell with pride in his own chest at your declaration, “and I yours, bunny.”

With each thrust hitting you in your sweet spot, you inched closer to that familiar sensation. Jungkook too could tell that you were getting close, evident by your pussy clenching more sporadically around his cock. Griping the sheets beneath you, you started babbling pleas and cries for more almost incoherently as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

Re-adjusting his position, Jungkook now sat up and griped your hips as he began fucking you faster and at a deeper position.

“C’mon, bunny”, Jungkook grunted, he too was unsure how much longer he’d be able to last, “Cream all over my cock.”

It was Jungkook’s words that finally edged you to your high. You felt your eyes squeeze shut as you screamed in pure bliss, muscles contracting as you finally felt the relief that your body had been begging for wash over you. 

It was a glorious sight, really, watching you lose yourself beneath him. You were milking his cock for all he was worth and he could feel himself start to lose himself as well. You could feel it too, his thrusts gradually becoming more shallow and losing their rthymtic pace. Locking your arms around his neck, you leaned forward to pepper kisses on his jawline.

“Come in me, Kook”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “wanna feel you.”

Not a second longer passed by and Jungkook’s warm seed was spilling inside you, filling you up completely. The world around you seemed to slow down and you drew dizzy at how full you felt in the moment.

Slowing down his pace to a stop, you felt Jungkook lay himself to rest behind you. Still partially buried inside your hole, he wrapped his arm around your tummy, pulling you snug to his chest. For a few moments, the two of you laid like this, just caught up in the moment and trying to catch each other's breath.

“You good now, bunny?”, Jungkook asked, finally breaking the silence. You replied with a hum of satisfaction, buring your head deeper in his chest, you could hear his rapidly beating heartbeat slow down a bit.

Feeling you relax beneath him, Jungkook slid his cock out from your trembling pussy. A conconation of his semen and your juices instantly squelching out. You whined at the loss of him and at the sensation of your juices running down your hole.

Grabbing a few tissues from the side of your bed, Jungkook lazily wiped both of you down as to not sully the bed further. Making a mental note to wash your sheets first thing in the morning. 

“Jungkook?”

“Yes Bun?”

“Don’t date those other girls anymore, ‘kay?”

Feeling himself melt at your cuteness, Jungkook chuckled before leaning down to kiss you on your forhead.

“Okay, promise I won’t. Not when I have you.”

[whatthefishh]

until we bleed

Rydal Keener x F!Reader ; part of the Oxford Comma series

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: swearing, an unnecessary amount of big words being used, smut, pinv, um... slight dub con... drama...

Beta read by the lovely @xbellaxcarolinax who basically jumped on the doc every time I helplessly texted her to ask if I was being stupid, and special s/o to @melodygatesauthor for helping me talk out the smut hehe

The charity gala was a front for the girls to get dressed up and the men to boast about their new business ventures. The charity mentioned in the invitation was picked out by the dean’s wife, a hedge fund manager – a most noble career – and she had already swindled enough out of the guests for the entrance fee before the scheduled auction later that evening. 

You didn’t want to go but you couldn’t really tell Rydal that, especially after the whole thing with Chester just last week. He had been a little down since then, his skin halfway healed from where the skin had broken. You couldn’t help but feel a current of electricity pass through you straight to your core whenever you looked at the slightly swollen pout he was sporting because of it. And the bastard knew it, too. He had been using the pout, with the added weight of his baby cow eyes, to get his way for the past few days, easily swaying you into submission for the littlest things. 

Which is how you ended up at the pretentious gathering being thrown in some philanthropic attempt to absolve the attendees of their greed. The dress you got for this event specifically was more expensive than any you’d ever worn before, the black satin silk of it tickling your calves where it hit. Your heels were new and not broken in, the thin straps sitting across your fresh pedicure — also something he insisted on paying for, picking out your nail colour for you. A glossy soft pink, a shade that reminded you of the Chanel perfume he had gifted you with. 

Rydal had taken you out to buy an outfit when you tried to tell him you couldn’t go with him to the gala because you had nothing to wear, rolling his eyes at what he knew was you trying to weasel your way out of it. You felt bad, making him wait while you tried on every dress the saleslady threw at you. He kept telling you it was fine, eventually threatening to come in there and dress you himself if you didn’t cut it out and that he was comfortable lounging on the sofas outside the fitting rooms. 

Slipping on the next dress from the large selection you had gathered in your fitting room, you checked yourself out in the mirror. Flatting the skirt with your palms, you tried to imagine yourself at the party, your arm looped around Rydal’s elbow and everyone’s eyes on you. Would this help you blend in? Was this the golden ticket you needed to finally gain acceptance? You’re starting to feel like it didn’t matter what you wore, they’d be able to sniff you out regardless, the vultures with their sharp manicures and syringe sculpted faces. 

When you finally stepped out in the simple but flattering black dress, Rydal’s eyes flashed as you turned this way and that in the mirror, trying to see it from all angles. This could work, it was simple enough that you didn’t feel entirely unlike yourself but it was still a lot more extravagant than anything you owned.  

You didn’t notice him slowly getting up like a predator stalking its prey, too focused on whether you liked the garment or not until his hands came to rest on your hips and his nose pressed itself against your neck. Only then did you take note of his half hard bulge pressing into your bum, your body temperature jumping at how quickly he was reacting to you all dressed up for him. You weren’t a lingerie girl, never had to be in your experiences but the way he was growing more and more feral by the second had you itching to buy the most delicate, laciest sets just to pull this behaviour from him on demand. 

“D-Do you like it?” you hated the way your voice wavered when you spoke, the slight increase in pressure from his hot hands causing you to blush heavily. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Go take it off before I do it for you–”

“Yeah, on it,” you pushed his hands away, bolting towards the fitting room before he got any ideas and shaking your head at him. 

He purchased the dress while you were changing back into your regular clothes, coming out to the sight of him holding the garment bag over his arm while dumbly ignoring the stares of the other girls in the store. 

You weren’t used to feeling so aggressively desired so publicly but Rydal never made you feel like he wanted to hide how he felt about you. He would compliment you in front of his friends, in front of strangers, he would speak highly of you despite having told you something that would send your blood boiling seconds prior. It was reassuring, especially since you weren’t blind to the way girls would look at him, especially the ones in his social circles. 

The dress would help you fit into the crowd a little better, the shoes only slightly uncomfortable so far but that wasn’t the part that bothered you. Before leaving for the night, you made sure to try your best with your hair and makeup to look effortless with the help of your roommate, Eleanor, who told you that Rydal was going to go crazy over your look. That didn’t make you feel any more comfortable, however, wearing clothes much too expensive, you began to wonder if he liked you better like this, if he wanted you to be more like them. 

His reaction upon seeing you made your stomach swoop, the reverence in his eyes making you shyer than you’ve felt in a long time. You think maybe you should dress up like this more often, maybe he’d prefer you like this. Trying to shake those thoughts out of your head, the two of you make your way to the party being held on campus, looping your arm through his. Rydal was wearing a beige linen suit himself, the white dress shirt underneath had the first couple buttons open for a more relaxed look that you knew he only did to stick it to his dad.

You don’t know if you would have preferred to be invisible rather than be gawked at by the guests, but either way you were extremely uncomfortable and trying your best to mask it for the sake of your boyfriend. The party itself was unlike any other you’d attended, and why would you have? It wasn’t something you’d normally be invited to, especially with your financial struggles. It was kind of ironic, you being here now. At least you were dressed for the part.

Most of the guests were in casually lavish clothing themselves, almost everyone in the room exuded an air of superiority and arrogance you didn’t know how to handle. Walking by a group of older men dressed in various shades of browns and beiges, you overheard their heated discussion regarding the new instalment of fine art in the library’s entryway. There was a table full of what looked like raffle prizes to be won, along with a small brass raffle drum at the end. Near the end of the room stood a podium next to a sign with the charity of the night outlined in large, black lettering. For the good press, for the photos, you bitterly think. There was even a small group of classical instrument musicians playing classical renditions of modern day music. 

In every cluster of guests, there was an undeniable condescending overtone, the haughtiness oozing from every direction and you didn’t know where a safe space was for your eyes to land so as not to be assaulted by a judgemental gaze. Rydal was walking with ease, his hand at the small of your back, the warmth from it burning your skin due to the backless nature of the dress but you were thankful for the touch as it kept you somewhat grounded, helping you not trip over your heels. 

He walked you through the psychological battleground, gliding through the people who were most definitely whispering about his date for the evening, leading you to the food and drinks table. Exotic delicacies littered the banquet table, carefully prepared for consumption and small enough to grab several handfuls before feeling any sense of satiation. The rich were an interesting breed, despite their indulgence they loved making things tiny. 

The purpose of the night was drowning in the show of snobbery, and you were so bitter inside at the show they put on for each other that you opted to stay quiet so as not to make Rydal uncomfortable. These were his peers, the people he grew up with, the old man in the corner, his godfather, the lady with the laughable plastic surgery was his favourite ‘aunt’ growing up, giving him the biggest presents at his birthdays. Countless familiar faces for him, all of them sneering at you. 

The comforting touch of his hand leaves your back and you immediately turn to him in a near panic, the idea of being left alone in the sea of sharks making you stumble over your shoes. Upon seeing Rydal’s father right behind you, you opted to stay silent. This was not the first time you were meeting him, but it was the first time you were seeing him on school grounds after spending the summer at their family home. 

“Rydal,” he nodded to you and greeted you by name, “Come, I need you to meet a couple of people from that firm I was telling you about. Quickly now.” 

Lawrence Keener wasn’t the most terrifying person you’d ever met but he was definitely intimidating and he definitely was aware of it. The man had influence at the school, and honestly anywhere else he went. His handsome face and strong jaw demanded respect before his clothes did, his bespoke and cleanly pressed suit giving him a reason to tilt his chin just that smidge higher so he could look down at you with a single snobby brow raised. You could see where Rydal learned that expression from. 

He was somewhat dismissive of your presence, which only served to piss you off further but you had to hold back from rolling your eyes since Rydal was looking at you with a plea in his eyes, asking if it was okay to leave you for a few minutes to go meet the senior partners his father was pushing him towards. 

You nodded with a tight smile to him, trying to be supportive without showing how anxious you already were on the inside. Stepping into his world and pretending you were fine with it was proving to be more difficult than you initially thought.

Rydal leaves you with a relatively chaste kiss on the cheek, his father watching you two with blatant boredom before ushering him away with a hand on the back of his neck. After watching them turn a corner, you have to blink a few times before gathering your bearings and heading straight for the hors d'oeuvres, the miniature yet intricate selection taking your attention away from the prickly company. Devilled eggs, stuffed mushrooms with crispy onions on top, micro fig pies, melted brie and shortbread, roasted oysters with butter mignonette, caviar and creme tartlets and bowls and bowls of shrimp cocktail met your eyes. Reaching to try a pie, it almost made you laugh at how tiny it was in the palm of your hand. 

Some time must have passed and you’d eaten several different kinds of mini appetisers, gulping down the mocktail a random floating waiter had offered you after watching you stuff your face while you observed others mingling and networking. Hearing Rydal’s voice over the soft music playing, your eyes start searching for him excitedly. 

There’s a girl. Walking next to him, there is a very pretty girl. And they’re laughing. She’s touching his arm – familiar, they’re familiar – and he doesn’t brush it off, he’s smiling with her and for a moment you forget that you’re together. 

They look… they look quite perfect together, to be honest. She’s taller than you, blonde hair perfectly coiffed with a classic cocktail dress in a shade of blue that matched her eyes, making her smile look all the more bright. The girl in question throws her head back in laughter at something Rydal says, and it must have been funny at the way she covers her mouth elegantly to hide her grin and–and you want to leave. Badly. He’s not flirting but he’s also not taking her hand off of his arm, and he’s still smiling at her. 

They…fit. She looks like she belongs. Here, with him, on his arm, wherever she pleases really. Maybe she’s the girl his father wanted him to go for, the choice that made sense for him. The option that was easier. The kind of girl who crossed her ankles when she sat at the dinner table, the one who knew which one the soup spoon was. The girl with the right parents, the right upbringing. The one who didn’t need a room at their family home because she had her own next door. The one he didn’t have to take shopping to make her look the part at a charity gala. 

The girl that wasn’t a charity case. 

You should just leave now, and leave them to it. They would probably be engaged right after graduation. Rydal would get a job with the law firm his father was pressuring him about and she would be the host of their next charity event. Hell, maybe she’d even run for a council position. Talk about a power couple. 

While your intrusive thoughts were spiralling, you get caught staring by Rydal, his eyes lighting up to see you and you can see the words forming on his lips as he’s about to call out for you, most likely to introduce you to the girl in question. Turning on your heel before he had the chance to get your name out, you walk with speed and purpose, hunting for the washroom to collect yourself. You know people are looking at you walking past them, you probably look a little out of it but you couldn’t care less right now, just focused on getting some air and maybe splashing some water on your face.

Ducking into the washroom with a sigh of relief – the door matched the wood tone of the walls, the little sign above labelled “Washroom” in tiny, cursive writing making it incredibly difficult to find – you manage to find an empty stall. Leaning your head back against the stall door, you close your eyes as you try to even your breathing. You have to manage the anxiety bubbling up in your chest and the influx of negative thoughts about Rydal, it’s not fair to you or him.

The washroom door swings open and shuts, a pocket of music from the main hall echoing for a few seconds before giving way to the animated chatter of the girls who just entered. Their giggles and whispers became more clear once they settled in front of the large mirror hanging above the marble sinks. 

“I’m going to need a lot more champagne to withstand anymore of that woman’s inane chatter, like, we’re already helping so much,” one girl huffed. 

Peeking your eyes through the tiny gap in the door, you catch a glimpse of the back of their heads. 

“Yeah well at least your boyfriend hasn’t been ignoring you all night. All I said was that he was repeating his outfit and that people would notice!” 

“Oh honey, don’t worry. Nobody is going to notice that with Rydal walking around with his charity case girlfriend. What the fuck does he see in her anyway?” Another girl said, carelessly loud. 

Your ears perked up again, your heart dropping in your stomach. Now was not the best time for you to hear this, their conversation only confirming your shameful thoughts about your boyfriend. 

“I always thought he was easy but to stoop so low? She’s basically the farmer’s daughter!” 

The scandal in her voice almost made you laugh in disbelief from where you were hiding in the stall. 

“I think he’s doing it just to get back at his father. Lawrence doesn’t even look at her.” 

Well. That’s not… that’s not what you wanted to hear. Lawrence looked at you, right? He said hello perfectly politely, right? You’re frowning at the thought.

“Ha! That’s because he wanted Colette for him. My mom told me he’s secretly hoping Rydal wakes up one morning, ready to go running back to Barbie Blue Eyes and make them all proud parents,” the loud one from earlier said with a wicked tone. 

Colette… you didn’t know a Colette. Blue eyes? Could they be speaking about The Girl from earlier? Were they right, were you just a phase for him? 

“Oh my god El, you kill me! They are really blue, and that dress she’s wearing tonight looks so fucking good on her, I can’t deny her that. It’s like she got it custom made to match her eyes.” 

Oh fuck. The Girl was Colette. Of fucking course. 

And from the sounds of it, she was Rydal’s ex. No wonder he never mentioned her. No wonder she was so friendly with him, hands all over his arms, giggling together like a couple of young lovers. Compared to her, she was the obvious choice, and it wasn’t a surprise that Lawrence had given his approval. 

“Sounds like Colette,” the third girl chimed in. 

“I don’t care how much Rydal spends on this new girl, she isn’t fooling anybody. I bet she’ll be gone by the winter. Anyways,” the first girl sighs tiredly, as if unloading all that gossip took a physical toll on her. “How’s my lipstick, Vee?” 

They descended into a different topic, focused on adjusting each other’s appearance until they left the washroom leaving you to stew in silence. They wouldn’t have known you were listening but they said everything you didn’t need to hear anyway. 

So Rydal was dating this perfect girl, Colette, before you got together. You were the rebound. You were never permanent. You didn’t belong. 

You should’ve known he wasn’t serious, it was too good to be true. You should never have opened up to him, never have trusted him with all your insecurities and vulnerabilities. He probably bought all the girls Chanel. He couldn’t have been serious about you. He hasn’t even met your mom, hasn’t visited your home yet. You couldn’t let him get any closer. 

Stepping out and gently splashing your cheeks with some cold water, you walk out the doors on shaky knees and look around. Nobody is paying you any attention now and you exhale a breath of relief. These people are never going to respect you. No matter how many pretty clothes he buys you. 

Rydal finds you before your eyes find him, his hand snaking around your waist and mouth finding your ear to whisper a sweet little I missed you, softly kissing your skin. You shiver, and despite the direction your thoughts were going you find comfort in his smell and warmth, closing your eyes while you turn your body into his. 

He’s the same and yet he isn’t. Rydal slips into his social persona and you’ve never really paid attention before but there’s a slight difference to his voice and once you notice it, it bothers you. You stare at him, perplexed and hurt. You wonder if you know him properly at all. Which one is the real one? Is he pretending with you or with them? 

Rydal tells you he has someone to introduce you to but your stomach starts churning and you think you’re gonna be sick because you see Colette making her way towards you in the crowd and you can’t face her, not after what you just heard. 

“I feel kind of sick, actually, can we go? Like, now?” 

You know you have a frantic edge to your voice but you can’t help it. 

“Can we go in a bit? Just stick it out for a little longer, baby—“ 

There’s a bubble of anxiety in your chest that rises to your throat the closer she gets and you look to Rydal with pure panic, upset that he’d even suggest you stay in this stifling room for any longer. He stops talking upon noticing the tears welling in your eyes, brows immediately furrowing in concern and then nodding quickly.

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, we can go, c’mon.” 

His hand returns to the small of your back, guiding you out of the hall and you’re glad for it because all of a sudden your vision is blurry and if it weren’t for his persistent hands helping you, you would’ve surely never found your way out. 

The way back to his room was tense. Not the comfortable silence you were used to, your throat closed and sealed shut since leaving. Your mouth has opened and shut several times, wanting to break the silence but your tongue felt like lead. 

Rydal doesn’t make any attempt at conversation either. After putting his blazer jacket around your shoulders, he stuck his hands in his pocket and frowned the whole walk back. 

By the time he let you in his room, your bottom lip was wobbling and your anxiety was suffocating you in its attempt for release. Either you were going to cry or yell or both. 

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you reach for the makeup wipes you keep with his things, aggressively wiping at your eyes and fighting with the layers of mascara you had put on. He slowly comes up behind you, not looking into your eyes but his hands reach to unclasp your necklace, brushing your hair aside for ease of access. 

You inhale a shuddering breath. 

You should just do it now. Just come right out and say it. You may as well cut your losses and let him be happy with whoever he wants, let him make his father happy and stop standing in his way. You were only holding him back, and that’s not what you wanted to do. You still loved him, even if tonight did break your heart. 

Dropping the necklace on the counter, he reaches for the zipper of your dress next but his hands still and instead rest on your waist as he presses his forehead into your shoulder. 

“Did something happen? Did someone… say something?” He mumbled, the vibrations of his voice almost triggering your tears. Instead you let out a sniffle.

“She really is beautiful. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” 

“Who?” 

“Why did I have to find out about her from a bunch of girls in the washroom? Does she go here? Is that why your dad doesn’t look me in the eye when he talks to me?”

“…it’s not like that—“ he sighs.

“No? It’s not like you become someone else when we’re around these people? It’s not like you have this whole goddamn life that I’m not part of, that I’ll never be part of because they’re never going to accept me? They’re never going to respect me, never think I’m good enough?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t even know what you heard!”

“Everyone thinks I’m with you just for your money, you know. They called me the farmer's daughter. They said I’m your fucking charity case. Do you know how that makes me feel? As if I don’t already feel like an outsider here?”

He opens his mouth to respond but you don't let him, rushing to hurt him the way you’re hurting inside. 

“You’ve never had to work a day in your life, you don’t know what it’s like in my shoes.” You laugh humorlessly. “What are we doing, Rydal?” 

“What do you mean?” His voice sounds so small and the knife just twists deeper in your gut. 

“Why should I have to deal with this constant bullshit from the people in your life? I don’t even know them! Maybe… maybe we should—“

“Stop, stop, listen I can handle everyone else being upset with me, but not you. Not you, please. I can’t take it from you, please don’t say what I think you’re going—“ 

“I don’t know. I just can’t, I— maybe, maybe we should break up, I think you’d feel better, too, I think—“

“How could you think that? How could you say that?” He’s upset, expression sour and twisted.

He looks the way you feel. 

You watch him fumble for words. 

“I literally left my dad at this stupid party and he’s going to be fucking pissed, like seriously livid because he was building me up to his buddies but– but I don’t care because I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

His palms grip your waist tighter and he steps closer, crowding you against the basin and doesn’t give you any room to move. You can’t look at him so instead you stare at the makeup wipe, the angry black marks mirroring your heart as your mind yells at you to run, to leave and hide where he can’t hurt you, where he can’t see you crumble and break after he inevitably agrees to leave you. 

You push it once more.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe I should’ve just left you there.” 

There’s a small part of your brain that tells you that you’re being irrational. That he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care, he must care even a tiny amount, even if you were a temporary toy. 

His hands leave you for a second and he takes a step away. You feel cold, immediately feeling small and stupid, fighting between wanting to cry and going numb until suddenly the familiar warmth comes back, his hand pushing your back with so much force that your hands shoot out in front of you to catch yourself. One on the mirror, one on around the edge of the vanity. 

Looking up at Rydal in shock, you open your mouth to ask him what the fuck his problem is until you see he’s not even looking at you, his eyes are trained on your ass and he’s biting his lip, but he still looks… broken. 

“Rydal, what the fu—“

“Stop. Talking. You’ve said enough.” His voice was almost a whisper but still firm enough to cut through yours, and his hands were still kneading your hips. 

His behaviour is new and kind of confusing, if you’re being honest. It’s clear he’s never been denied before in his life. He looks helpless and angry and worried and aggravated and entirely too focused on your body at this moment for any of it to make sense. 

Rydal’s fingers trail down your dress until they reach the slit in the back and leave goosebumps as they make their way back up, hooking into your panties and then tugging them off and around your heels. Upon rising, he’s still avoiding eye contact. Your cheeks are burning, legs slightly wider than before. Despite being mad at him, your body still obeys. 

“So mouthy all the time.”

Balling up your panties, he surprises you further by shoving them in your mouth even as you protest and try to push back on him but his body keeps your balance wavering. You have no choice but to keep your hands where they were if you didn’t want to fall. 

Your eyes must be bugging out of your sockets and the rise and fall of your chest is coming quicker and quicker.

“If that’s what you really want, then leave.” He’s saying this while the tips of his thick fingers brush and tease your entrance, keeping you frozen in place.

Your mind was at odds with your body as you felt your instinctive reaction to him touching you. Fighting the urge to embrace the desire now dripping down your thighs, you knew you had the ability to walk away if you wanted to and yet you found yourself pressing back against his hand wanting more. 

“Aren’t you gonna leave? Isn’t that what you wanted? No?” 

Rydal slides two fingers inside your cunt, easily and without warning and you grunt but it’s muffled against the cloth. This is absurd, you think dumbly. You want to feel embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Didn’t think so, baby,” he’s saying while stepping closer and his fingers reach even deeper, if that were possible.

His mouth comes up to your ear, whispering his next words and sending them straight to your gut, weighing heavily inside you. 

“I need you, can’t you see that? Look at me,” his hot breath hits the shell of your ear and you’re panting. “Can’t you tell? How fucking badly I need you?” 

So you look at him, and you see a desperate and needy man in the place of your Rydal, the one you’re familiar with. This wasn’t the same man you were used to, the one who would make you laugh while he was making his way inside you. This Rydal was upset and he was adamant on making you regret your words. 

His fingers were curling inside your wet heat, pressing up against that spot that made you see stars and stealing your breath so hard your fingers were curling. Your fingerprints were marking the mirror, the squeaking sound making you shudder against his body. Moaning around the fabric still in your mouth, you tried to grind down on his hand, desperate for him to move, to do something, anything to the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. 

Rydal could feel your hips moving back against his hand and moved to still you, fingers holding you tight enough to bruise. Slipping his fingers out, he taps them against your clit before removing his hand entirely and making your shoulders sag at the loss.

Reaching one hand up and back to keep him close, afraid of his warmth leaving you, your hand wraps around his neck as he rushes to unbuckle his pants noisily. He’s shaking a little, breaths coming out ragged at how badly he needs to fill you up. 

Once he frees himself, Rydal uses one hand to push you back down and bunch your pretty dress up, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in swiftly without hesitation. 

He groans loudly, tilting his head back with his eyes shut for a moment before looking down at where he’s seated to the hilt inside you, unmoving. 

“You lookin’? You need me, too, I can see it in your eyes. Look,” he reaches forward to grab at your jaw, making you watch yourself as he slowly pulls his cock out and slams it back inside to kiss your cervix. Again, and again, and again. “See that?”

Rydal forces your head to nod with his hand still holding your face while you try to speak, voice coming out unclear against the panties still in your mouth. The stupid fucking fabric was making it hard to breathe and you were going to pass out, drunk on his cock, you were going to faint against the god damn builder’s grade medicine cabinet. You want to moan out loud, you want to tell him he wasn’t playing fair, that he was going too slow. You want to pull his beautiful hair out and yell at him, you want him to hurry up and fuck you harder, you—

You’re coming. 

“Ohhh, fuuuuck,” he let go of your face, hands dropping to press on your lower back and push you more forward, your hands clambering on the mirror like a fool. “Look so—so, oh fuck, baby, look at you.”

It didn’t take him long at all to make a mess of you. 

“You gonna take it back? Take back what you said, tell me you were wrong,” he whines, still fucking you hard but not hard enough. 

The problem was that he was dragging his girth out slowly but stealing your breath on every hard thrust forward. And it still wasn’t enough, not for this, not for right now. 

Your attempt at speaking is ruined by the fact that your panties were still in your mouth, your saliva soaking the material by this point. You wanted to spit it out, hurl the obstructive garment across the room but it wasn’t possible in your current position. He can’t possibly be stupid enough to expect you to answer him like this. 

He almost laughs when he realises you’re trying to say something, quickly pulling the fabric from your mouth to let you finally have your voice back and you immediately let out a cry at his perfectly timed thrust. His cock was moving faster, intent on not having you speak but making you come again. Now that he could hear you, he was becoming more and more unhinged. 

Embarrassingly, you’re having a hard time keeping your voice down, whines and cries falling from your lips continuously while Rydal fucked you against his sink. Your hands are leaving fingerprints all over his mirror from where you’re trying to get a grip and push yourself back on him, his own hands keeping you bent over for him but squeezing whatever flesh he could reach. 

Leaning forward to kiss your back, he mumbles words he thinks you don’t hear, don’t leave me, mine, my baby, stay here—

“S’wrong, I-I was wrong,” you whimper. “M’sorry, fuck—“

“Shhh—“

“I—“ you hiccup. “I hate them, I, yesss right there, god—“

“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” he’s back to grunting in your ear and you can’t see or feel anything that isn’t Rydal. 

You’re overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight, your feelings from earlier still bubbling up and causing you to tear up while he continues to ram into you. He sees you crying, reaching his hand in front of you to toy with your clit.

“Stay with me,” he demands, voice low against the shell of your ear. Desperate, he’s still so fucking needy even after making you cry on his cock. 

You nod before you realise you’re nodding, sniffling in your daze. 

Rydal’s index finger, the same one he teased you with earlier, starts circling your clit in the surefire way he knows how to make you cum, grunting when he feels your walls fluttering over his length. 

And when you’re gushing all over him, his finger still circles your nub but he stills his hips as he feels you come undone and talks you through it. Pretty baby, love you so fucking much, stay, stay with me, stay—

Lifting you off his length he takes off your dress completely and turns you around with his hand wrapped around your neck to bring his mouth to yours, kissing you like a man possessed. He doesn’t wait to slip his tongue into your mouth, claiming it as his own to prove a point. He’s always fucking proving a point, always pushing his way through your walls. 

Walking you backwards towards his bed, he only breaks away from your mouth to help you remove his shirt and pants, your hands mapping out his chest and shoulders. You don’t let him get far from you even as you lower yourself to lay back on the mattress, pulling his body along needily while he crawls over you. 

This time when he enters you, it’s slower, softer, gentle, but you’re shaking in his arms, foreheads touching as you share a breath and syrupy kisses. You cry a little, mascara messy and lipstick smudged, but he shushes you, mocking you, “thought you could leave me,” he says and anticipating your rebuttal — as he does, he always fucking does — he says, “thought you could go on without my cock, hmm?”

And then he’s kissing you again before you can say anything, effectively shutting you up while pressing you into the mattress, fucking the fight out of you as his hips slide into yours again and again. Your bodies are sweat ridden, your pussy is soaking his sheets and he still hasn’t cum yet, but you think he’s close. He has to be, he’s barely pulling out now, his length throbbing inside your pulsing walls as he ruts into you. 

He’s biting your shoulder and your eyes are focused on the popcorn ceiling, your oversensitive core trembling as he tries to pull another orgasm from you. You’re probably crying, it’s hard to tell at this point, face and body damp, but your ears are attuned to his sounds, his gorgeous whimpers and grunts. Rydal’s body is heavy on yours but you’re floating, you don’t feel a thing until his thumb starts pressing hard against your clit that you try to curl in on yourself, thrashing against him and– yeah, you’re crying. 

He’s speaking absolute filth, it doesn’t make any sense, but in the midst of your pleasure you hear him saying he’s going to fill you up. 

He does. It’s so wet between your legs, the glide of his half aborted thrusts smacking lewdly and loudly and you feel like an exposed nerve and numb all at once. His spend is leaking out of you and just when you expect him to pull out and play with your puffy folds, he turns on his side, keeping you full of him. Rydal rests his face against your chest, your sweaty and spent bodies tangled together. Boneless and breathless. 

His arms are everywhere, one running down the length of your thigh soothingly and the other wrapped under your torso to pull you close by your waist. Touching, always touching. That’s been one constant you’ve noticed from the start. Your breaths are echoing loudly and you’re almost afraid to speak, afraid to ruin the tranquil silence that envelops you both. 

You open your eyes to find him already watching you. 

“I’m hopeless without you,” he says, so so softly. “I’ll let you win at monopoly every time, I’ll stop ruining the ending of the books you’re reading, fuck, just tell me what I have to do. Tell me, I’ll do it.”

You just hold him tighter to you, kissing his temple.

[razorblade180]

Not really in the mood for writing a prompt so I’m just gonna ramble about how cool Weiss is in TSF AU

I basically made her the closest thing to a witch I could without stepping into magic territory. It always bugged me how her semblance and Dust was so compatible but it was never tested to its limits, so I imagine Weiss learned to basically be a pro in the field of dust manipulation. Has a real intuitive sense for it, which is why her kids are so good for their age. A lot of it stems from always getting unarmed in battle.

She learns that she can grab a dust cartridge and put a glyph at the end of it to pull it out and construct things like a saber of pure Dust. Eventually she gets creative enough to throw vials and catch them with glyphs to trigger timed explosions.

In crystal form, Weiss gets the hang of making glyphs and simply pushing the crystal into it to create a flame thrower affect. The most reckless and dangerous trick is using the refined powder state. Even with gloves on, the margin for error when throwing or outlining a pattern with it is small cause a chain reaction could lead the effect back to her hands.

Dust for water isn’t actually a thing, but through countless trail and error, Weiss knows how combine fire and ice Dust to create the desire effects. She even helped researcher and companies create vials with ratios already mixed so other huntsman and individuals could have access to the element.

Is the one who helped teach her brother how to use their semblance. Also started the idea along with Ruby to plan “hunting trips” where Weiss or any of her relatives would go off to kill a powerful a Grimm to add to their summon abilities.

Weiss has in fact killed a dragon. Took her an entire month and she did it for free. She learned create magma during this time and gained a fondness for more practical uses of rock Dust. Eventually she learned to make constructs out of most materials. Even lightning.

Is the manger and agent for both of her children when it comes to their professional lives. Most collaborative works don’t make it past her before she even thinks about bringing them up to her kids.

Regularly considered Penny’s science partner in the study of Dust and its utility. One of them is also pitching ideas to the other and showing rough blueprint ideas. Their most popular hit and meaningful success is modern dust weaving into clothes. Suddenly, winters in Mantle weren’t as harsh and Weiss’s daughter could live an easier life with her condition.

Helped fund Oscar’s therapy practice. Was also his first patient. Some might conflict of interest. Those people don’t know Oscar “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it” Pine. Was a super big help in her darker moments after adjusting to parenthood and old family trauma.

Occasionally surprises her friends and family with appearing in a modeling catalog or runway. It helped her gain some confidence back after having twins. She also likes to make a point that Jaune’s wife is incredibly hot so there’s no point in random women thinking he’s going anywhere, and to make any guy that looked down on him feel shame. Jaune matches the energy by also looking gorgeous when the opportunity arises.

Weiss also makes no effort to hide any scars. That includes wearing a half shirt or bikini that shows where Cinder stabs her or the two scars on her face. That way her daughter and even her brother, feel more comfortable about their scars.

If you ask her what her biggest sacrifice is, it’s making sure she never matches hairstyle or clothes with her daughter. Weiss kinda misses the ponytail but Summer will look at her a little funny despite them not being the same kind. Eventually Summer will stop caring and rationalize they look alike regardless of anything they do. They’re both just two pretty ladies other people get jealous of. She doesn’t have this attitude with Winter!!!

The top of everyone’s emergency contact list. Also the only adult aside from Ruby that every child (except her own daughter) feels immensely comfortable with emotionally. Even Yang’s kid is pretty soft around Weiss. Practically karma for how much Weiss’s son adored Yang when he was little.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 13)

[Can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 4.1 k

Warnings: Minors DNI - canon typical violence, swearing, smoking, military inaccuracies

Summary: Rory and Price start the next leg of their mission, heading to the Middle East where ties to Zorokov become that much clearer

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

tagging: @efingart @cassietrn @cloudofbutterflies92 @strangefable @theelderhazelnut @marivenah @nightbloodbix @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @carlosoliveiraa @finding-comfort-in-rain @simplegenius042 @voidika @quantum-lover @donotopendeadinside @rc-dragons @direwombat @peachiicherries @statichvm @clicheantagonist @v01dthefae @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @amalkavian @justasmolbard

opt in/out tag list

October 22, 2017 08:11 - Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire, United Kingdom 

The mission had moved beyond what Zorokov could offer, no longer cabals and crime rings, there were confirmed ties to threats to national security. They had blocked off the pipeline that funneled the money around and eventually the filth would rise to the surface like sewage in a drain, leading them to the exact origin of the looming threat on the horizon. They had a starting place tracking where the funds for the PMC were coming in from, narrowing down sources and finding out just how tangled the web really was. 

As the helicopter touched down on the grounds of Credenhill’s courtyard, Russia was a not so distant memory that still clung in the back of Rory’s mind. Throughout the eighteen hour flight back, she had listened in to the conversations between Price and Laswell regarding where money had been flowing and by who. The Saudi shell was exactly that, something empty, a throwaway account – but it still had an owner. Discovering who it was would give them their next target, and Laswell was an unstoppable force when it came to digging through the shadier side of things, secrets that were meant to be kept hidden never would be with her around – something that in Rory’s mind was all too dangerous, considering what Price was trying to convince her to do. 

Upon stepping onto the tarmac, she had to admit it was good to be back home, no matter how short-lived. Merely a quick stopover before the real work, the real fight, was about to begin, this was her chance to grab her trusted gear that she had left behind on her first flight out. It had been waiting for her, her rifle had been waiting for her. Having a new-found vigor for the mission, she was ready for whatever would come to face her even as the bruises still stained her skin, leaving her tender.

Fog had swept in overnight through the midlands, a wet sort of cold that blanketed everything it touched, sinking into the bones and clinging to clothing, damp and thick. Pulling the collar of her sweater further up her neck, she averted the gaze of her fellow servicemen as they passed by. Hands still shoved into the pockets of her coat, the black duffel slung over her shoulder, she stormed her way from the courtyard towards the barracks. 

Price hopped off the vehicle behind her, his footfall hushed upon landing by the mist that coated the ground. A pervasive silence filled the air the same way it would amongst fresh fallen snow, even the sound of slowing blades cutting through the air had been muffled. His hoarse timbre was dampened in the quiet morning as he called out to her, “Sinclair!”

Slowing her pace, coming to a halt, she let him draw nearer. His bulk cutting through the dense cover of smoky gray, the orange glow of the end of his cigar burning its way through the water vapor that accumulated around them. “Wheels up in one hour. Get your gear and we meet back here. Understood?” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. Hardly the intimacy that was expected between two people who had shared a bed the previous night, but understandable considering their current predicament and location. 

“Rog’.” She gave him a quick nod and noticed the way his gaze scanned over her, taking stock of all the different marks and bruises that now blemished her appearance. “Was there something else, Captain?” Her voice took on a far more formal tone with him than it had in the last few weeks. 

Shaken loose of his appraising stare, he gave her a curt nod of the head in return. “No. Go on. You’re dismissed, Sergeant,” he said before heading off in another direction, leaving her to her own company. 

How quickly all the apparent feelings they had for one another, the tension between them, could easily dissipate. Professionals once more. Practically strangers. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did that they could be like this, if they were to move forward with whatever was between them (the way Price wanted to) that was how it would always be on base, anywhere there were prying eyes, having to turn their romance on and off like a switch. Was that something she was really willing to do? It wasn’t that she was incapable, she knew she could, already used to playing up the side of herself that wasn’t haunted by the things she had seen and done, pretending to be some version of herself that knew more of joy than she really did – but was the effort really all worth it? Was this the grand romance she could put herself through hell for, or was it just going to end the way it always did, with a short ‘I’m sorry’ only to carry on with her work and to bury whatever she might have felt in the past?

Heading to her bunk, she tossed her duffel onto the bed and stripped off the civvies she had been wearing. Left standing in only her bra and underwear, she witnessed her reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room – her skin marred by shades of green, blue, red and purple without the makeup to cover it. Glancing sideways at herself, she sneered at the image looking back at her. Look a right horror. No preening or primping would solve it either. Opening her foot locker with a huff, she pulled out her combat-ready clothing and her toiletry bag and a few pairs of rolled up underwear, shoving it all into her duffel. Quickly getting dressed into her combat gear, she strapped on her tac vest and clipped her helmet onto it, finally adding the shemagh from her time in Iraq around her neck and shoulders.

Giving another glance at her reflection, she sighed, feeling more like herself. All the battered and bruised parts of her hidden by armor and layers of clothing. Protected. She wasn’t pretty or soft, not like this, not anymore. A proper soldier. She could stand a little taller, her shoulders a little more square. She didn’t need saving, she didn’t need to be kept under watchful guard. She was Sergeant Rory Sinclair, a decorated veteran who had fought on the front lines, had gotten her hands dirty, knew the ugly truth of things and still didn’t let it stop her. 

She was a survivor, always had been.

Marching out towards the waiting helicopter, rotor already beginning to spin, each cut of the blades slicing through the swirling mass of fog that had yet to burn off as the day grew older, Rory noticed Price standing nearby waiting for her arrival, his hands wrapped around the shoulder straps of his tac vest, his boonie hat back in place. Appearing before him, his unreadable stare focused on her, face not showing any specific emotion, just flat. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and then back up at her. “You’re early.”

Rory hummed in agreement. “So are you.”

“Don’t like to keep people waiting, Sergeant. Glad to see you’re the same.”

The brim of his hat darkened his eyes just enough that she couldn’t quite make out the way he was looking at her. Her instincts were quick to point out however that the Captain apparently was still none too pleased with the way she had left things hanging. A sharp, pointed dig at the fact she hadn’t melted into his arms after his earlier advances in the safe room. 

She chose to ignore it. “I assume Laswell got a hit on our next target?”

Grunting in response, Price led her towards the open door of the helicopter with sure strides, a swagger to his step. “Shell company has ties to a Saudi oil baron currently outside of the country in the UAE. He’s not home, so he can’t stop us from knocking on the door.”

“A raid.”

Stepping up into the vehicle, he turned back to look over his shoulder at her with a smirk. “Exactly.”

Following after, she stuffed her duffel under the seat beside him, took her spot and leaned back into it. Breathing deep, the smell of cigar smoke that saturated his clothing invaded her senses, but underneath that was the heady scent of warm, musky cologne. Sitting so close, it swirled around her and she was absorbed in it, realizing she never recalled smelling it the night she had spent wrapped up in his arms. She hadn’t exactly been in the right state then to pay attention, but now, it washed over her and she found her thoughts getting fuzzy. Clearing her throat and her head, she got back down to business. “So, I assume we have backup for said raid?”

“Marines.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sure that won’t cause any international upset,” she said, the sarcasm dripping off her words. “The US isn’t afraid of stepping on anyone’s toes with a move like that?”

“Bureaucrats can’t get upset over what they don’t know about,” Price said as he clipped the cigar he pulled from his pocket and placed it to his lips, flicking open his lighter and letting the flame burn at the tip. 

“No, I suppose that’s true.”

They sat in silence, Price letting it hang before speaking once more. “How long’s it been since you were last in the desert?”

“Almost seven months now.”

“You know Arabic, yeah? Fluent, I hope.”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her position in her seat, a grin curling the corner of her lips. “Perhaps this time I can have you saying derogatory things without your prior knowledge.”

Giving a low chuckle, he brought the cigar to his lips and took a long drag. “Now that would make things interestin’, wouldn’t it?” The smoke streamed past his lips, the orange glow burning in his eyes through the shade of his cap. “I’d prefer if we didn’t start any international incidents ‘cause you had to be a smart ass though.”

Huffing out a laugh, she pressed her head back against the rest behind her. “Fair enough. It’ll be easier just letting you blunder the pronunciation anyway.”

His brow lifted, giving her a sideways glance without turning his head, keeping her in his periphery. “You gonna keep causing me headaches?”

“No, I just think we need to agree that while Russia was where your strength lies, we’re heading into mine.”

Sucking on his cigar hanging in a clenched jaw, his brow furrowed. “You do remember I’ve fought over there myself, yeah?”

“But you didn’t spend your entire career there like me. Unless you’ve eaten goat by a fire while swapping stories with village elders in their native language, I suggest you take at least some of my judgment on things seriously. Or is it because I’m a subordinate that it’s not good enough for you?”

“S’pose it’s ‘cause you’ve slept with me,” he muttered under his breath, his face remaining serious until it cracked, giving her a teasing smirk.

Unable to help but giggle at the implication, Rory bit her lip to stifle it from growing into a full on laugh. “Okay,” she said, nodding slowly. “I see how we’re playing now.”

Barking out a chuckle at her reaction, Price shifted smugly back into his seat, adjusting the brim of his hat.

“Fucking hell, you’ve become quite the comedian with me.” Her voice dropped so only he could hear it. “You get one little kiss and now all of a sudden the stoic soldier routine fades away, eh?”

“It was more than a little kiss –” He whispered as he leaned down towards her, looking up through his brow. 

They were inches from each other, eyes locked on one another. Invading her personal space, trying to remain the dominant force, Price waited there as if he were expecting her to make a move despite being strapped into a moving military vehicle. The smoke coiled around her, his breath fanning against her face. Did he really think she would just break regulation like that? She cocked her brow and sighed, pulling out her pack of cigarettes from her tactical pants and tapped the corner of it against her thigh. “I said I just wanted to work, not be a distraction.”

“You’re not.” His words came out bluntly, his features expressionless once more, gaze unfeeling and inscrutable. Shifting back into his seat, he crossed his arms and mirrored her position beside him. Mouth drawn tight, he bit down on the cigar he'd placed between his lips, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

“Oh, I’m not?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. You and I have both been through the same training. A little flirting – any feelings we might have – they aren’t getting in the way of the mission, got it?”

“Sure about that?”

“You do know you’re not the only woman I’ve ever worked with, yeah?” He shot back, head tilted and brow cocked.

Rory hummed, unconvinced. “Did you sleep with the others too?”

He growled softly, mumbling around his cigar, “Touche.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said confidently, slipping a cigarette out from the pack in her hand and placing it to her lips.

“I’m a professional, Sergeant. So are you,” he grumbled, “Stop trying your damn luck with me.”

The cigarette sat between her lips as she gave him a little salute with two fingers against her forehead, the lighter still held in her hand. 

“You’re trouble, goddammit.” He shook his head and settled back in his seat, gripping the shoulders of his vest once more with a heavy sigh.

Voice muffled as she spoke around her cigarette, it bounced on its perch upon her lip. “Bet you’re really regretting Laswell’s choice now, eh?”

“Not unless you give me a reason to, darlin’,” he said, nose scrunching with annoyance. “Don’t test my bloody patience.”

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she couldn’t help but want to keep picking at him. He had tried to make her feel small a moment ago, reminding her of her weakness, of how she apparently needed him according to his evaluation. “Did you think I was suddenly going to fawn over you because you actually admitted to having feelings for me, Price?”

The little tic of his tightening tendons in his jaw was plain as day, she was playing with fire and she knew it. If there was any way to describe the Captain it was a persistent pursuit predator – of course the way he worked would bleed into his life. The man wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the arse, wooing certainly wasn’t his style. She already expected him to keep trying to wear her down until she would eventually give in, say yes, and he would get what he wanted. Perhaps what they both wanted…but she wasn’t able to quite so readily admit that yet. 

“Would’ve been nice if you made it easy for me.”

“You’re a special forces captain, you like the challenge.”

Price brought a hand to her upper thigh, his long fingers clenching around the meat of her,  squeezing tight. “Goddamn right I do,” he said with a low chuckle. 

October 25, 2017 22:42 - Ayad Estate, Saudi Arabia

The target’s mansion was some modern monstrosity, all concrete and glass, reflecting back the moon and the stars and the moody twilight. A massive infinity pool and gardens decorated the exterior, all well maintained, meticulously so. Multiple floors, several entrances. Fully staffed, including a personal army of guards for security. A fortress in its own right. Heavy resistance was expected as they approached the private residence under the cover of night, but the main goal was to sweep and clear threats while keeping the unarmed non-combatants alive, and to collect intel. The invading strike force made up of Marines, Price and Rory moved in separate teams, including one in an armored vehicle stationed on the road up to the front metal gates of the estate, ready to ram it down if more forceful extraction was required. 

Eyes were kept on the prize, orders whispered. “Check your shots. Let’s kick this off.”

Several members of the security detail were stationed around the perimeter, protecting the mansion from intrusion. Fully armed and wearing plate vests, these weren’t just hired security, they were well trained – likely former military themselves. Slowly pacing, their heads kept on a swivel, radios at the ready to keep in contact…

A silent night…

And then the flashbang hit.

White burning light exploded out as soldiers dressed in black combat gear climbed over the walls. Nightvision goggles strapped on, two teams stealthily made their way into the mansion, set to take it floor by floor in a clean sweep while the remaining team cleared the forces outside. 

Quick, assured steps led Rory through the mansion’s halls, following closely on the tail of Price as he led the charge. 

“Bravo 6 moving to the second floor.”

Boots thumped up the steps like thundering war drums. Sweat formed on her brow as her heart started to beat against her ribcage. A thirty room mansion wasn’t a quick process to clear, the only saving grace was that most of the staff were sent screaming upon sight, huddled over on the floor with their hands in the air in surrender rather than shooting back. Whimpering “please don’t hurt me” like their lives actually depended on it, and it broke her heart – civilians didn’t deserve to feel this sort of terror, no matter the cause.

Breaching doorways, kicking in locks, the barrel of her rifle swept from side to side as she checked her corners and cleared every other room, swapping the duty with the rotation of other members on their team. 

“On me. Rally at the stairs.”

Several more flights to go, and the closer they got to the master suite the more threats they faced, the armed assailants ramping up against them. Gun fire rang out. Art, sculptures and bodies were all torn to shreds by the bullets that flew back and forth between opposing sides. She hugged the walls, taking cover behind some hulking slab of marble. Controlling her breath as chunks of stone breezed past her, catching the strands of her hair as they flew past her head, ricocheting off her helmet like hailstones. Ducking out, her muzzle flared, bright flashes sparking in the darkened hall as dozens of bullet casings tinkled around her. Bodies dropped like flies, the polished floors stained red with blood. A sight she’d grown all too accustomed to. 

Radio chatter between Price and the team outside gave warning that the x-rays they had accounted for had been cleared on the exterior, it was just the ones hidden behind closed doors that they had to worry about now - the threat of the unexpected. 

Steadily climbing up to the top, they finally reached the last floor, and instead of multiple rooms along the corridors, there was just one large, sprawling floor. Open concept. A bedroom, an office, the bathroom practically a day spa with the amenities available. Rory sneered at the sight of so much wealth on show. She was no stranger to affluence, it was a luxurious life she became entitled to upon living with her father after her mother’s death, and with it brought old money and claims of nobility in the family tree. But this – this sort of opulence was in poor taste as far as she was concerned. 

Adding insult to injury, the guards had decided to take several of the staff as human shields in the face of danger. A poor stratagem in the wake of a unit of special forces soldiers. In an instant, a whole firing line of lifted rifles were aimed at the threat on the other side of the room, scopes all firmly planted on the figures in the dark. 

“Drop your weapons! Don’t move! Get down!” 

Orders were barked, but words meant nothing. Action did. Lives were in the balance. Her ears thundered as the blood began to flow quickly inside them. Her finger resting against the cool metal of the trigger, ready to tap it at the first flinch from the security detail. Heavy breathing filled the room from both sides, every soul was put on edge. Sweat dripped down foreheads and stung the eyes. A second felt like an eternity. 

“Drop ‘em!”

Without a second thought, Rory tapped the trigger. Aiming straight for the head of a man with a handgun pointed at the back of a middle aged woman’s skull, shuddering in fear as she wore her appointed cleaner’s uniform. Executing him before he could get a shot off. A threat dispatched, one less casualty to weigh on her conscience. 

The dead littered the floor, the survivors left covering their heads and begging to go home. Panicked voices caused a twitch to start in her fingers that begged to crawl up the length of her arm, the clench in her gut following not far behind. Memories hitting her like a punch to the solar plexus. Sobs. Wailing. That look of fear in the eyes that would stay with the victims forever, the same way it did with her. 

“Clear!”

One simple word could relieve so much tension, the adrenaline slowing its course through her body at the sound of it. Relative calm eased through her constricted veins and arteries,  a rush of air escaping her lungs like a gale force now that she could finally breathe.

“All teams: residence secure. Commence SSE.”

It didn’t take long for the full force of might to round up and collect every personal device left on the premises, every scrap of paper, or shred of information they could use. The best find of all being a personal computer detailing contracts signed with Zorokov’s PMC and proof of involvement with the shell company. All left out in the open, plain as day, the hubris on show for all to see.

Price stood hunched over the desk, his thumb dragging across his lower lip as he read into the target’s dealings. “Turns out our target is close and personal with the defense minister. Signing contracts on his behalf. Has several on the go with the PMC he’s funding.”

“Helping out his friend, Zorokov.” Rory moved closer, leaning in towards the monitor with a furrowed brow, the pale blue light glowed in her eyes. “Proxy wars. Coups. Fucking hell… Yemen? I knew tensions were rising between the Saudis and Iran, but not like this.”

Continuing to scroll through the various contracts, one caught Rory’s eye. “Wait, John. Stop.” Her hand clamped down over his on the mouse. Biting down on her lip, jaw clenched tight, she was hit with a horrible truth. “Syria,” she whispered, the air forced from her at the realization. “Iran’s expanding its presence in the region on the border against ISIS… Christ, they’re in Syria. This isn’t just some small-time dispute. A PMC hired to actively assist terrorist hostilities – that’s an act of war.”

“Right. So we head to Syria and we shut it down.”

Price said it so nonchalantly it nearly sent her head spinning. They had stumbled into the middle of a conspiracy, a proxy war made to look like a civil one, and he was ready to take it head on.

“Just like that?”

“We’ll find out where they’re headquartered and we’ll bury them. If anyone has a problem with that, they’ll have to come clean, and we both know that won’t ever happen.”

She hated how right he was. How easy it was for governments to wheel and deal and play games with one another, using each other as pawns for their own desires. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for nations to support one side of a war while also funding the apparent enemy, that was a tale as old as time – but it never stopped revolting her. The insidious nature of it all. It might have been naivete on her part to still be even remotely surprised she might stumble upon something like this herself, especially considering the things she had already been witness to in her career, but she had never learned to merely let it sit well with her.  

“So we head into the middle of an active combat zone and pretend like we’re supposed to be there, start a battle with a PMC funded by an ally nation, and drop some terrorists along the way?”

“More or less. Yeah.”

“You make that sound like it’s a normal afternoon for you.”

“It can be.” He patted her shoulder with a quick smirk. “Come on, darlin’. We got a flight to catch.”

[saturrnss]

Misfits Chap. 1

Namora x black!mutant!fem!punk!reader

summary: after living for more than 100 years, you decided to fuck around and make a metal detector for money-that happened to detect vibranium as well

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, mention of overdose, drugs, alcohol, death, graphic violence, smut (eventually), to much of the word "you"

the reader doesn't HAVE to be black but it's my fanfic so i get to do whatever i want

abilities: stamina, durability, agility, regeneration of wounds, strength, can breath underwater

You were born a long time ago, and by long I mean LONG, time ago. you had a fine childhood with loving parents, you would do mostly anything they had asked.

But you did get into a little trouble now and again (now and again meaning most times).

You were always defiant, you couldn't be told what you should and shouldn't do because you would always question it. When people in your mothers circle tried to talk bad about you, saying how you would end up on the streets or in a boarding school if you were their child, your parents would always defend you.

even when you didn't deserve it.

Your powers appeared when you were 11, slipped off a roof while spray painting and banged your head really bad, leaving a big bump and some blood. While it hurt, you healed in about an hour or 2. "Cool" you thought and never brung it up to anyone.

Stopped aging at around 20, you were overjoyed at the fact that you could stay "forever young", be wild and not get judged for it, but then reality started to dig its fingers into you when everyone loved died,

your mother was the last to go, officially leaving you with nobody and nothing. you mourned. ALOT, but realized that someway somehow you were given the gift of a long life and you shouldn't spend half of it being a depressed, lonely bitch.

That's when the frequent parties started.

You went to every exciting party that you could find. you were drunk and hungover at the same time which you didn't think was possible but it still happened. made a lot of life long and short term friends. You did every drug imaginable because due to your powers you actually thought you were immortal

but when you od'ed you backed off and stayed sober.

(had a lot of sex with men and woman)

you met every big celebrity of the decade, some were nice, some you got into fights with (most you won) Many people fell in love with you, but after the fourth person you realized they only loved you for how "wild" and "exciting" you were, they didn't like you for you.

You also took up some mma classes because you never know when you need to beat someone up.

You thought that life could never get better until you went to a short trip to England in the late 70s that would change you life philosophy forever.

Punk rock. it was like the answer you were looking for all your life, people who acted like you and dressed like you. Nancy spungen was the first friend you made in the scene, many people hated her but she was your friend. you were so close with her, that after she died you packed your bags and moved back to the u.s.

You spent the rest of the pre 2010's traveling and learning different languages, Yacutec Mayan included. Your healing abilities got better and you can now heal as fast as 9 seconds. In 2011, you finally decided to settle in Cambridge, mass.

.....

It's may of 2024. you wake up In the middle of the night due to a phone call. You live comfortably as a computer hacker and engineer, your main clients are college students who are late on assignments and lazy business men who were trust fund babies. you lived In an mediorce/could have been better apartment.

You answer the phone. "Hello?-" "I need you to do something for me, I'm outside." "I'm sorry but you need to call back to-" It ends. You, out of annoyace and slight curiosity, you grab a sweater and head to the door. you open it to see a pale, tall man with a black-slick suit on and a straight face.

He has a badge of some organization on the left side of his chest, and a shape of a gun in his pocket to the right.

The room fills with a cool breeze and a little bit of fear. "Can I help you?" you say. "I need a metal detector."

"Well i don't really have them on hand-" "I can wait.'' He lets him into your apartment, gets a chair and sits down with his legs and arms crossed. The right side of your brain wanted to start an argument with him but your left and gut feeling unanimously agreed to just do what he says so he won't like, send people after you.

You walk to your bedroom to get all your supplies while staring at the man to make sure he doesn't do anything.

You come back and with the supplies and the man is still there, staring at you intensely as you walk into the room. you clear the table he sits at and grabs another chair and you try to get to work but you notice the man is still staring at you and now your supplies.

"You know this is gonna take forever,right??" "Well it won'tbe a waste" he pats his wallet. Awkward silence occurs soon there after

"Do you want anything to eat??'' He doesn't respond. "note taken" you turn back to your work.

..

You worked well into the night, slight fear of what would happen if you stopped, which was a first. You Finally finished it at 6:32 am, yawning as you give it to him. He puts it down and gets out a slick black briefcase, unlocks the buckles, and opens it. His closes his eyes and blinks multiple times to adjust to the purple light shining on his face.

He brings out this bright purple leaf-like object and puts it on the table. he takes the detector and puts it right over it, he turns it on. It almost immediately beeps, detecting the strange thing. The pale man perks up his lips, almost creating a smile across his face but it quickly turns straight. "Thank you again" He says blankly as he brings out his wallet and gives you 12k.

He picks up his things along with the detector and leaves, the door closing softly. Normally this wouldn't faze you, you've been in room with the most infamous mob bosses, stranger things have happened in your life for sure but, this time you can't shake the feeling that something's gonna happen, something bad.

..........................

A week later you almost shaked the feeling off completely. You paid your rent for 2 months, went shopping, and bought a new guitar. You usually make your own clothes but this time you wanted to prolong the happiness.

While you were getting ready to go out, a feeling of anxiety fell over you- that you were in danger?

You took a gun and a knife just in case.

Late at night, While driving across a bridge to get gas. your tires suddenly gave out and deflated. You got out of the car to check out the problem. You opened the back of your car to get out an air pump when you heard a faint voice start to sing.

It didn't faze you at first but then you heard another, than another, than another, it grew louder and louder. folklore was passed from your extended family on to you about "mami wata" and sirens.

Of course you didn't believe it at first but when you grew older always had a pair of ear plugs on you just in case so you put them on just in time so the eerily mesmerizing voices didn't consume you.

All of a sudden a 2 ginormous humpback whales comes out of the water and on to the bridge, crushing your car and in a matter of seconds you didn't jump and roll just in time. Still feeling the shock waves of the whales, You turn back to look at the anomaly and 4 blue people jump off of them.

One woman had orange and white feathers on the top of her head and a big tall man with long hair and 2 others that weren't that memorable to the eye.

The outfits were gorgeous don't get me wrong but confusion is what you felt the most. The sirens of the emergency vehicle show up before the car itself and it crashes into the whale. The blue people look back at the car and the woman says something.

"Deshazte u Jmeyaj metalúrgico, ocuparé ti' le testigos (get rid of the metal worker, i'll deal with the witnesses.)" You try to decipher what she said In your brain but you soon realize as the other 3 are walking towards you menacingly.

You grab your gun and knife. The other two blue warriors Jump at you, using their spears to try to impale you. They stab your arm and leg but due to your powers, you healed quickly and it didn't affect you that much.

The two weapons you got were much to no use. You used your gun to shoot all three of them but it got cut in half, knife got knocked out of the fight as quickly as possible

But it was close.

You overhanded the one closest to you and roundhouse kicked the other, but they still kept getting up. Getting annoyed, you grabbed one of their spears and hit them in the head with it as hard as you could, knocking them dead with blood trickling out of their ear- creating a puddle.

While you were turned, the other one hits you with their heavy metal spear right on your upper spine. You wince in pain, the warrior raises up their spear to put an end to you but you grab the end of the metal and use it as a support beam to launch both of your feet at them for maximum impact.

(You were wearing platform boots too, so that must've hurt.)

The warrior falls back a couple inches, You felt immense pain but you scrambled to find anything because you knew the warrior wasn't gonna stay down for long. In the darkness you try to feel anything with a sharp edge for good use in the fight.

You felt the knife that was thrown earlier. You grab it and turn around to find that the spear was at your neck, seconds away from penetrating. You try every way to get out but to no avail. You looked down in saddened realization. "this is it" You thought. But then you quickly remembered

Your other hand was free.

You drop the knife into your other hand and before the warrior could react, plunged it deep into their stomach. The warrior made a sound of shock. You dragged it across the right side of their stomach until the knife came back out, feeling some of their organs in the process.

the warrior falls back and stops moving, their spear now in your hand. The man with long hair looks at the scene, just analyzing it and looking at you. "Xeen a wil ba'ax táan u beetik namora, ocuparé u este (Go see what namora's doing, i'll deal with this one)"

Both of their eyes open at the same time- Organs and bones slid back into place and flickers of life came into them, It was like Frankenstein's monster coming back from the dead.

"No. way," you said quietly in disbelief as they ran off to go catch up with namora. "No fucking way!!" you said louder as you spin your new found spear, and the fight between you and the big man co menses.

You held your ground at first, riding off the adrenaline from the other two you just “killed’’. but sooner or later the fight started to work out more and more in his favor. He was taller, more skilled, and a just a tiny bit stronger than you.

Luckily your stamina came into play because if you had gotten the-least bit tried you would have met your ancestors in the most gursome way. One point he had you by the throat up against the ground. during the struggle he kicked the spear you were using just right out of your reach.

You kicked him in the Achillies heel, nuts and used both of your legs to put him in a chokehold, knocking off his headwear. Now with him focused on the fact that he has a full grown adult on his head and that he couldn't see anything but your stomach,

You have the time to back flip off of him, use one of the spears and hit him across the face, leaving a long scar. He touches the scar- seeing the blood and wipes it away with his other finger to confirm what just happened, surprised about how somebody was of his caliber, but some weird feeling of-- respect.

"Ba'ax láayli' ma' a kiinsik u Jmeyaj metalúrgico.! [You still haven't killed the metal worker?!,]" The woman comes aggressively walking toward the both of you with the others following behind. "Tu yaan in meentik Teene' wéet túun! (I'll do it myself then!)

"Pa'atik! (Wait!)" You said and she stops and the both of them look at you. "In wojel ba'ax K'a'abet k yantalto'on kajak yéetel k'aas wa'atal, chéen ba'ale' kolnáalen bey Teeche' (I know we got off on wrong footing but I'm just like you,)"

You look for other words to say since you haven't spoken for a long while. "Je'el u páajtal in wáantikech! (I can help you!). The man laughs,

"Bixi?! (How?!)" You look for anything that could help you- then you remember your healing abilities. "Paakat (look)" You raise up the spear carefully, looking at the both of them so they don't think your being aggressive, you put the spear right above your wrist and cut yourself all the way to your shoulder.

It quickly healed. They had a straight face so you couldn't read their emotions but they all looked at each other- they finally made their decision.

"Taj ma'alo'ob (very well)" The woman takes out a green fish net bag, gets a weird story of device that looked like a can and handed it to the tall man. He cracked it open and rolled it to your feet.

2 seconds later it started to make sound, purple smoke started to come out of it. You started to feel a tingling sense in your lungs and started coughing, dizziness and nausea started to overcome you, now the tingling started to feel. Like. Burning.

The violet smoke was to overwhelming for you, you fell to the ground, last thing you saw was the woman's feathers on her head poking out before you passed out.

A/n: there is not enough namora fics!! Wattpad:saturnshaze

[thebloodbrothers-archive]

Interview with Jordan Blilie of the Blood Brothers by Scott Batiuk

(transcribed from sandiegopunk.com on 07/19/2002)

The Blood Brothers signed to ARTISTdirect Records, and Ross Robinson is producing their next album. Ross Robinson of all people, though. His production is responsible for making bands like Limp Bizkit and Korn the multi-platinum monstrosities they are today.

But have you heard March On Electric Children (the Blood Brothers newest album)? The perfect pick-me-up when you're suffering from a bad case of the Warped Tour blues; for when you think the world is doomed to be permanently overrun by boring, cookie-cutter pop-punk and all of its mall/jock-core brethren.

There's two vocalists. Both sing, both scream. But not in a Linkin Park brand of vocal wackness. It's more like that screaming humanoid creature in Aphex Twin's 'Come To Daddy' video. Except it hopped up on goofballs. And there's two of 'em.

The lyrics:

'The flock of grinning octopi drop like tears from a varicose thigh singing''do you want to live forever? Nail your crotch to the hive of pleasure!''

or:

'The theater wails like deceased violins, high heeled castanet clicks rape harmony. Youth decays in 4/4 time.'

March On's guitars alternately bludgeon and hack you to pieces; jittery bass segments; jangly keyboard whines and seething undercurrents of static; it's blistering, grimy, and unwholesome.

But Ross Robinson and ARTISTdirect'

Well, the Locust signed to Epitaph-subsidiary Anti. Cattle Decapitation signed to Metal Blade. Is this a sign that the bigger labels are starting to wake up a little bit? There's no way in hell this stuff is going to catch on in the mainstream, is there?

I guess we'll see what happens when the new albums come out. In the meantime, San Diego, go watch the Blood Brothers play Oops! The Tour with the Locust, Harkonen, Arab On Radar, and Lightning Bolt at the Epicentre on 8/7. You'll be hard-pressed to find a freakier, more fucked up night of music this side of a Creed concert. But in a good way.

Scott: Some people describe your guys' music as hard core. Some people say it's punk. What does Jordan say?

Jordan: Oh, what does Jordan say'um, I'd say it'd be kind of just a terrible hybrid of both. I think that there's elements of both in our music, but I don't think that either one would really predominate.

S: For March On, you guys did kind of a concept album.

J: Yeah.

S: Are you going to do that again for the next one?

J: No. We actually did the exact opposite. Whereas all the songs are tied together on March On, we just tried to make every song as unique to itself as we possibly could. It was a fun thing to do for that record, but it was also a little bit limiting as well. You can't really get that many ideas out using that format, so we just wanted to make every one as different as possible.

S: What was your first reaction when you found out that Ross Robinson (Korn, Limp Bizkit, Vanilla Ice) wanted to produce your record?

J: We erased the email that was sent to us and just kind of laughed about it. And then later on, we started to think about it more, and then we just eventually called 'em back and got a hold of him. We thought this was kind of ridiculous and funny at first. We didn't take it too seriously.

S: Honestly, how the fuck did that happen? How did Ross Robinson get into you guys?

J: One of his friends, he's this guy named Casey, he sings for a band called Amen, and he acquired our CD and liked it and passed it on to him. So then Ross had his manager email us, and that was how it all pretty much started.

S: That's just so weird, 'cause I mean, that guy did Vanilla Ice's record!

J: I know (laughs). I know. I mean, it was pretty bizarre. We were all a little bit taken aback.

S: So is ARTISTdirect giving you total freedom for artwork and music and everything?

J: They just pretty much fund whatever we want to do. Like now they're giving us tour support, so tour's a lot more comfortable than it has been in the past. You know, recording budget and stuff like that. What else'I mean, pretty much everything that a band would need to be a band, they basically provide.

S: Do they ever shoot down ideas like on the artwork, for example?

J: No. No. They're perfectly content with what we want to do. They pretty much made that clear to us right off the bat. We just recorded the record and we did like 13 songs, 12 of which are going to go on the album. You know, there's no one there telling us to 'Write more of this sort of song. These need to go. Where are your choruses? Where are your verses?' Pretty much, all of our lyrics are going to be as fucked up as they always have, and our music as well. The artwork will probably go along with both.

S: So how much say did Ross have then?

J: Umm, let's see'he would offer ideas, like you know, say we were playing a part like six times, he'd go, 'you know, I think maybe you guys should play it four.' We'd try it out, and if we liked it that way, we'd work with it that way. If we didn't, we'd just say no, we don't want to do it this way, we want to do it our way, and it was perfectly fine. There was never any pressure to do anything that he wanted us to do that we didn't want to do. It was more like just having another objective person to bounce ideas off and maybe to get us to think about things that we hadn't really thought of between the five of us. The whole experience was really open, really constructive. I think we all walked away from it feeling good. It was really positive.

S: So, for the record, your next CD will NOT be rap-rock?

J: No. Well, I mean, I HAVE been honing my skills as an MC a bit. But'no.

S: Maybe for the future?

J: Yeah, you know, maybe the next one after that.

S: It's just weird. What do you think it means that a bunch of bands like you guys and the Locust, who are pretty inaccessible, are getting, not major, but bigger label interest? Why do you think this is happening?

J: I just think that music has become so fucking stagnant in the past 5 years that labels, especially like upstarts, are looking to sign bands that sound completely different from what's out there right now. That's pretty much the only possible reason I can see why anyone would want to sign either us or the Locust.

S: You don't think it's gonna be the big hit sound of the summer? Like if I turned on MTV2 and I saw a Locust video, I'd probably shit my pants.

J: (laughing) You'd love it wouldn't you?!

S: It would be cool, I guess, but I don't know how I would respond to that.

J: No, it's like there's nothing I want more than for, you know, just to be cruisin' the beach, you know, spring break, Daytona, Fort Lauderdale, and have our songs be the soundtrack for that. Basically that's what it boils down to.

S: Yeah, and then next thing you know, you're gonna have the Vans OOPS! Tour.

J: (laughing) Yeah, yeah, exactly. We'll be hittin' you know, some domed parking lot'summer, you know'

S: Carson Daly will be emceeing it and everything.

J: Mm hm.

S: So, what do you guys think of the Punk Rock Tour of the Summer aka the Warped Tour?

J: (laughing) The Warped Tour! I DON'T think about it. There's no bands on there that interest me whatsoever (laughs). I mean, the Warped Tour! It's pretty ridiculous to me.

S: It's laughable, but it's amazing how popular it's become and'

J: Yeah, because I remember it like a few years ago when I was still, even in like junior high, early high school, it seemed to be something that was actually an alternative to what was going on at the time. Namely Lollapalooza or any of those big rock tours. It was something that I thought was actually pretty cool. I mean, I remember Rocket From The Crypt did a year. I don't know who else. I stopped paying attention to it. Now, like you said, it's just completely laughable.

S: I keep thinking that it'll die out soon, but more and more of the generic, mediocre pop-punk shit just keeps comin' up.

J: I mean, you hope it would die, but you know (laughing), it just doesn't seem to. You're right.

S: And I really wish someone would just take a shit on Good Charlotte.

J: You know, really. Especially'especially, have you seen their show that they host?

S: Oh that's AMAZING.

J: (laughs) It's jaw-dropping entertainment right there!

S: It's like I'm repulsed. It's disgusting you, but you have to keep watching.

J: Yeah. Or you could just turn it off (laughs).

S: (laughing) Well, I don't know. Maybe if you're weird like that.

J: (laughs)

S: So if someone was stuck in a rut of that generic, mediocre pop-punk stuff, what would you recommend to get them out?

J: Uh, Liars. Chromatics. Electric Light Orchestra. Anything old. Neil Young. Pretenders. Let's see'Pretty Girls Make Graves, Cancer Conspiracy'uh, who else'that's about it. I don't really listen to that much new music. Hip hop. Nelly. Go pick up Nelly's new CD. I mean, you can at least dance to it, you know?

S: It sure is 'Hot In Herre.'

J: Yeah, I mean totally! That's my summer anthem right there.

S: I could go off on that, but I don't want to take up too much more of your time here. Um, so you guys are doing the OOPS! Tour in the next couple weeks right?

J: Yeah, we hook up with that I think in about'I think it's like nine days now. We meet them in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and then just go through the mid-west, and then back home.

S: That seems like it's going to be the freakiest tour you're gonna see this summer. Kind of like the opposite of the Warped Tour.

J: Yeah, yeah.

S: What do you guys have in store for all the kooky kids who come out to that?

J: Ummm'I don't know, we're just gonna play our songs, hopefully reasonably well. Um, you know, I mean, stage dives abound, brah! Let's see, what else'I mean, we don't really have any gimmicks planned or anything like that, but it should be fun regardless. I think that just watching us is fine enough.

S: Obviously, obviously'.

J: (laughing) I'm joking! I'm just kidding.

S: I mean, the tight pants and everything, you can't'

J: Oh yeah! You can't go wrong with that!

S: I really think you guys should go for the drummer in the cage, upside down, fireworks type thing.

J: Yeah, yeah, totally. Spin him around a bit. Mark told us that he wants to be spinning.

S: (laughs) 'Cause I mean, what good is a show if the drummer isn't spinning in circles, you know?

J: I know. No shit. Really

[iviarellereads]

Exit Strategy, Chapter 4

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which the plans get less and less desirable.

Returning to the station, Murderbot and Pin-Lee split up. Pin-Lee to get the others, and MB to book a fresh room to talk in. It scouts, and waits, and eventually the three humans enter. Ratthi is grinning, and MB interprets Gurathin's expression as "appalled."(1) Ratthi asks what it's been up to, but Pin-Lee says it can tell later, or not, but first they need to focus on getting Mensah out. MB is glad it's looking at the display wall and not the humans.(2)

Gurathin expresses skepticism about how MB can help them. Ratthi asks if they can just power in, but MB knows that's the stupidest possible idea. It sends them its assembled map in the private feed, and says the problem would be leaving neutral security zones and entering GrayCris's corporate jurisdiction.

Ratthi is dismayed, and asks, what about the company gunship? MB says GrayCris is probably raising money just to buy off the company, including asking the ransom from Preservation. Pin-Lee says that's what the Preservation diplomatic corps thought. Ratthi is hurt she didn't tell him, but Gurathin guessed it for himself too.(3)

The humans start drifting the conversation, so MB draws them back, saying GrayCris might not be able to afford the payoff. It thinks about how they'd be unable to sell off their alien remnants anymore, so they're probably getting desperate.

Pin-Lee asks if MB might be able to get her out without the ransom.

I had been running possible scenarios, partly to drown out the sound of humans making stupid suggestions. (Not that I don’t like that sound; it’s sort of comforting and familiar, in an annoying way.) “It would be tricky,” I said. By tricky I meant I was getting an average of an 85 percent chance of failure and death, and it was only that low because my last diagnostic said my risk assessment module was wonky. (I know, that explains a lot about me.) “We need to find a way to make them bring her outside the main station security barrier so that I can track her location via her company implant.”

Pin-Lee suggests offering a ransom exchange in one of the hotels. Ratthi wonders if they'll know about Preservation's finances, but Gurathin says he can assemble a very convincing list of Preservation's assets. MB decides this isn't in the top ten worst plans, and offers that they don't need to bring her all the way to the humans, just outside GrayCris's security barrier.

Gurathin asks MB directly if it can get Mensah away from them, even from a heavy guard. MB says the more guards the better, and thinks Gurathin's expression may be "some congenital condition he had no control over."(4) He asks if it's going to kill the guards, and MB decides no, he really is just an asshole. It thinks about lying, but answers, if it has to. Gurathin asks if it's qualified to make that decision, and MB says it's the security expert, they're the ones who get eaten by angry fauna when they walk in the wrong places.

MB says it's going to go wait in the lobby, until they make a decision. Pin-Lee says they already have, and the others agree. Well, then MB is going to the lobby anyway. It's a good strategic position to work from.

As the humans sort of the details of Operation Not Actually A Completely Terrible Plan, MB suggests they arrange to meet GrayCris here, since the old hotel was swarming with corporate agents. They agree, and since they're traveling light, they don't have anything to collect from the room anyway.

They make the call, and MB monitors them from the lobby. GrayCris argue for a whole two minutes until Pin-Lee convinces them to bring Mensah out, though they plan to send in a representative to check the funds authorization first. Gurathin goes down to the lobby to wait for them, looking more like a SecUnit than MB.

MB thinks about how, if this goes well, it will see Mensah again. Art had told it that the PreservationAux team were its crew, and it's waffled back and forth since then.

But sitting here in a hotel lobby, watching a biozone and running every not-a-SecUnit behavioral code I had, the fantasy fell apart. The hard reality was that I didn’t know what Mensah was to me. Even after Miki, I still didn’t want to be a pet robot.(5)

Gurathin contacts MB privately, and MB gets a little sarcastic back at him. Gurathin says he's not its enemy, just cautious. MB says it doesn't care about Gurathin's opinion, and immediately regrets it, wishing it had itself on a one-second delay so it could delete it.

 It made it sound like I did care. Which I didn’t.(6)

A couple of minutes later, Gurathin asks where it went. MB doesn't want to talk about it, but doesn't want to be so petty as to ignore him. It sends him a lightly edited video it took, on the trip to HaveRatton, with the intention of critiquing its performance. It throws the clips together, and sends them to Gurathin, titled "Murderbot Impersonates an Augmented Human Security Consultant".(7) He's still watching it when the GrayCris rep shows up.

The rep is likely carrying a weapon, with something to block it being detected. MB is more concerned that he's likely carrying a secure comm. He meets Gurathin, who leads him back to Pin-Lee and Ratthi. MB keeps an eye out for hostiles in the lobby, possibly spotting a few. But instead of staying in the lobby, MB follows a hunch, and takes a transport pod, telling the hotel's systems not to take action on maintenance requests, to stop the pod mid-transit without crashing the system or any other pods moving in that transit corridor.

The rep, Serrat, calls the team's bluff on the deal, and sends a secret signal that MB figures is likely an emergency abort mission on the hostage transfer, with a side serving of request for backup to come in shooting. MB kills the hotel's relay, and two backup relays that try to activate. Ratthi tells MB privately that Serrat has a small energy weapon. MB tells Pin-Lee to keep Serrat talking, and abandons the not so terrible plan for a more terrible one.

MB gets off the transit pod, and makes its way to the door. When it hears Serrat respond to the humans, it gets his relative position, and opens the door, and subdues him. Pin-Lee takes the comm device from him, and MB says it's blocked the device and his feed access. Serrat says they've threatened him with a deadly weapon and violated station law by bringing in a private SecUnit. Pin-Lee says SecUnit isn't a weapon, it's a person, and an angry one at that. Serrat says he sent a signal to call off the exchange, and no one will help them. Pin-Lee asks why they need to pay off the bond company so badly, or is all this about revenge?

Serrat’s face slipped into a skeptical sneer. He didn’t take them seriously, which, sure, I can see why. If you were GrayCris and regularly murdered humans as part of your job, the wrath of three research surveyors from a non-corporate backwater planet probably didn’t fill you with fear. And he was certain they were controlling me somehow. He said, “Revenge? You buy a SecUnit and send it to Milu to expose an essential GrayCris asset operation. You and your little planetary polity have the audacity to think you can compete with a corporation—what did you expect to happen?”

Pin-Lee says GrayCris started all this, while in the feed, Ratthi and Gurathin talk about Milu in the feed. MB is still working on restoring the hotel relays, but realizes that it still can't pick up Mensah's emergency implant.

They weren’t bringing her. This had all been for nothing. All of it, Milu, Miki’s death, the trip here, everything. I said, “Milu was my idea. I’m a rogue unit.”

Serrat says a truly rogue unit would have left a trail of bodies across the station.(8) MB says it wanted the trail to start here. It's deciding whether or not to crush his windpipe when Mensah's implant pings, so it pulls him away from the wall and chokes him unconscious. The humans try to stop it, but it says it knows what it's doing.

Pin-Lee points out Mensah's implant is pinging, and MB says she's on a transit pipe, and they need to go back to their shuttle. GrayCris will know what they're up to shortly. Before they can object, MB is already out the door, sprinting for the pod junction. In the feed, it tells them the group with Mensah is two minutes out, she will meet them at their shuttle, and do not try to contact MB on the feed. Ratthi says they're going, and to be careful, when MB cuts contact and gets in the pod, and shuts down its risk assessment module.(9)

=====

(1) You know, I don't half wonder, as Murderbot does later this chapter, if Gurathin just has resting stern face. He was the most skeptical of it up front, I'm not ignoring that, but after MB has proven itself, I wonder if it's just still interpreting Gurathin through its own suspicion, and if that perception is subject to change. (2) What do you think it's feeling here? I'm leaning toward gratitude to Pin-Lee that it doesn't know how to process. (3) Do you think Ratthi knows he's the himbo of the friend group? (4) That's a real asshole way of saying it, MB. LOL (5) I don't think it's in any real danger of becoming a Miki, but I can see why it's so worried, you know? It doesn't have any context for "reformed SecUnit, member of society" so it has to go on the only points of comparison it does have. (6) Yep, you don't-care so hard that you're flinching from your own words. (7) You don't-care so much you don't want to be rude to him. You anti-care so much you used your private name with him, when he respectfully used the one you asked him to use. Yep, no caring detected here. (8) Isn't it interesting how everyone assumes SecUnits can't be sapient and friendly? Or stealthy, or discreet. (9) Bah, that's nothing, it was faulty already anyway.

[nimbasa-librarian]

A Good Listener

The Nimbasa City Subway System was vast

And far more complex than any in her home region. 

Lucky for Anya, she just had one stop. Just one. 

If only she could stop feeling so anxious about it.

Standing before the platform, with Drew and Daniel flanking her and keeping strangers from getting too close, she stared at the crowd, trying to find a good place to stand that wasn’t too far away from where the trains came and went. 

She spotted a black hat by one of the pillars, and recognized the symbol. 

The subway masters, the twins. Battle bosses - and they also ran the subway. 

Was this one of their regular stations? This wasn’t a battle subway station… 

But… no one seemed to be standing too close to him. It could be a good place to stand so she didn’t miss the train

“Phew, okay guys. Le’s go” 

She marched with purpose, and took up the safe, respectively distance from the subway master.

It was perfect. 

The subway master managed to tower over her by a good few inches, which surprised her - she was taller than average, even in Unova. He had a straight face, with what looked like a perpetual frown, and he matched all of his promotional photos to a T

Anya recalled that she had to take promotional photos. She fought to keep her expression even. 

As the train pulled into the station, a booming voice took over the echoing area

“STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS, PLEASE! THIS IS THE BLUE LINE THAT GOES TO THE NIMBASA PUBLIC SERVICE SQUARE, AND THE NORTH END ART DISTRICT! PLEASE ALLOW ALL OTHER GUESTS TO DEPART BEFORE BOARDING AND REMAIN BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE!” 

Ah, that's why people didn’t stand close. 

Daniel had taken to grabbing her arm, and Drew let out a yelp, though remained otherwise composed. 

She pat him briefly, before they rushed off onto the subway train. 

Other than the voice, that area was nice and open, She could deal with it.

For the sake of her comfort, Daniel was going to have to just learn to deal with it.

-

He did, thank whatever the gods of Unova were. Kyurem? Reshiram? She couldn’t recall off the top of her head. 

She needed to read up on it. 

So she did! 

Perk of being a master librarian. 

For the next few weeks, she’d started reading on the train platform, burning through books of Unovan history, eventually focusing on Nimbasa-related books. 

One that caught her eye was a historical fiction novel about the politics of creating the Subway system. She had no idea that Unova’s train system was over 150 years old, much less that getting the trains running in Nimbasa City was met with resistance from the initial residents. 

“Huh. So he funded it, an’ designed it?” she muttered, as if conversing to with Drew on the matter “Irving Mulligan, wha’ a name” 

“That is incorrect” A baritone voice interrupted her train of thought. 

Anya and her pokemon turned their heads to face the conductor, who was now looking at the book in her hands 

“Irving Mulligan was a rich man who funded the creation of the first train station in Nimbasa City, but he had nothing to do with its design. That was his wife, Melissa Mulligan” he stated. 

Anya blinked “.. Why is he listed as the designer though? The reference in the book states that the official documents ‘ave his name.” 

“Misogyny” 

Anya thought about it for about 2 seconds “Ah… tha’ makes sense. Her design seems very ahead o’ it’s time, if the book’s any indication” 

“It absolutely was, in more than just its design - it was decades ahead in disability access as well” 

Anya found her curiosity piqued in that regard “Really?” 

“Yes! You see, it was not just the shallow ramps, it was-” 

The tell tale bell of the upcoming subway stopping him in his tracks, so to speak, Anya startled “Oh, tha’s mah train. Sorreh!” 

“Ah, I must apologize, I got carried away” 

“No, not at all! It was really interestin!” There was a brightness in his eyes that showed some gratitude at her interest “Do have a safe trip” “Thank ya! Uh, have a good day!” She headed closer to the train, as the conductor returned to his work, calling out with his booming voice to direct passengers appropriately. 

As Anya got on the train, she thought about the interaction.

That was the first non-work interaction she’d had in Nimbasa City, other than retail workers. 

And now she had all these questions about what he’d been talking about. 

“Hm..”

-

The very Next day, Anya made a beeline for where the conductor was typically stationed. He made very, very brief eye contact with her, before looking back out at the crowd. 

She cleared her throat “Pardon me” 

He looked down at her, god, he was tall. 

She suddenly felt nervous. 

“How might I assist you?” 

“Uhm” she cleared her throat again - nervous habit - “ I uh. I would like to hear more about Melissa Mulligan!” She rushed out “Y’were interrupted by th’train before, an’ I couldn’t find anythin’ in the library ‘bout her that wasn’t checked out or about ‘er ‘usband” 

Though his expression remained flat, Anya could see the surprise in his eyes - it seemed to be positive? 

“If - uh - If ya want, if ye don’ i’s completely fine - I .. Ahm sorry that was-” 

“No!” 

Anya (And a few people nearby) startled a bit, and she looked back at him from her sheepish looking away. 

He cleared his own throat 

“Your curiosity is something I appreciate. I would be happy to explain more from yesterday's interrupted conversation” 

She hoped that she looked as relieved as she felt. “You said that her design was decades ahead for disabled peoples?” 

The conductor nodded, “As I stated, it was not just the ramps for those with wheelchairs, there was also-” 

He started on yet another lecture that Anya’s full attention was taken by, going about explaining how the designer of the first station had built it with deaf and blind people in mind, as well as those with reading difficulties. To think that someone had thought of that over 150 years ago really was something else. Anya appreciated such things. 

But then the bell rung, and the conductor stopped 

“Ah, y’r Ingo, right? Subway master Ingo?” 

He nodded 

“I’s nice t’meet you! See ya tomorrah!” She managed, giving him a slight bow of her head before she rushed to the train. 

Ingo blinked, but returned to form and proceeded to conduct his business, thinking, distantly, that she didn’t introduce herself

Anya realized that very fact while she stood in the subway, and groaned in embarrassment. Her Yamasks - who had remained pretty quiet through the interaction, cooed little “yah”s in comfort. 

Ugh, she'll try again tomorrow.

-

“You are Anya, the new Battle Facility Head, yes?” 

He ‘greeted’ her when she approached. 

She looked surprised “Ah… yes. I ‘m” 

“Well, it is nice to meet you.. Would you like to continue?”

At long last she smiled, and gave him a nod. Her Yamasks looked at him suspiciously, but he said nothing about it, continuing his explanation from where it left off the other day. 

This went on for over two weeks, and by the end of it, Anya felt like she knew the entire history of the Nimbasa City Subway and Train system. 

It was fascinating, even if she didn’t have the same fascination with the trains themselves that Ingo did. 

“- There is far more history, I assure you, but that is all connected to Melissa Mulligan.” 

“... tha’s still a lo’ “ Anya commented “Bu’ absolutely fascinatin’” 

“I find it fascinating too” Ingo nodded “I  appreciate your listening ear” 

“I appreciate your knowledge!” She responds. 

Ingo seemed to have a contemplative look in his eyes for a moment, before checking the time with a pocket watch, and then lifting up his arm, showing his Xtrans “Do you have one?” 

She looked a it confused, but rolled her sleeve up, showing her Xtrans “I uh, jus’ go’ it yesterday” 

He looked at it, and tapped something on his, before holding it up to her, with hers promptly beeping

“Huh?” 

“My Xtrans code” he stated “Should you have any further questions” 

“Oh! Uh… thank you. Does that give ye mine in return? Back in Galar we jus’ ‘ave Rotophones…” 

“You can simply message me with your name and I will save you as a contact” Ingo nodded. 

“Oh… thank you” Anya gave him a small smile - opting to not tell him that his code was the first new one in her Xtrans. 

For just a split second, he flashed her a small, closed-mouth smile “Please, do not hesitate to contact me with any questions or clarifications” “I shall, thank ye vereh much, Ingo” “Your train will be arriving shortly. Have a good day at work, Miss Anya” “Just Anya, and I hope y’do as well” 

The two parted their ways, but both had that feeling you get after a good interaction

That lighthearted feeling of having a new friend. 

[myherowritings]

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though 

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso. 

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once. 

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. 

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back. 

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would. 

Shouto absolutely hated it. 

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others. 

He sighed. 

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.” 

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold. 

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto. 

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up. 

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society. 

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. 

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?” 

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises? 

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something. 

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.” 

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?” 

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.” 

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment. 

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan. 

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously. 

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.” 

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to. 

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?” 

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!” 

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?” 

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out. 

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree? 

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal. 

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.” 

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt. 

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again. 

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.” 

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.” 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with. 

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine. 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.” 

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!” 

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other. 

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it. 

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date. 

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected. 

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice. 

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?” 

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule. 

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist. 

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!” 

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ  FHDJKF 

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !! 

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp* 

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh

[risusnet]

Something there that wasn’t there before.

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: [Y/N] is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Bruce Wayne is holding a charity gala to help raise some funds for the asylum and [Y/N] along with some colleagues are invited. Her friend and crush Jonathan Crane was one of her co-workers that was invited too and they both enjoy the evening together.

Prompt: “Be still my heart.” Word Count: 2,626

You worked as a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum and you, along with some of your other co-workers, had been invited to a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne which intended to help raise money for the Asylum. You were wearing a beautiful dress that you had picked out a few days earlier and had just parked up in your car outside the gala hall, you sighed feeling nervous to go in. There were going to be so many people there, one of which was Dr. Jonathan Crane, your friend and co-worker who you had been low-key crushing on for the past few years, your heart jumped into your mouth just thinking about him being there.

“I bet he’s wearing something really nice- wait no- he’s just your friend, shut up!” you thought aloud.

You pulled yourself together and got out of your car, shyly walking to the door and trying to distract yourself from the photographers and reporters at the entrance who were also here about the gala. 

“Name, please.” said a frightening-looking bouncer,

“Dr. [Y/N] [L/N].” You told him,

“Ah, I see your name, you may enter.”

“Thanks..” you quickly entered the hall.

It was a beautiful venue, priceless golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the corridor with marble lining the floor that led to a foyer. For a corridor it was massive, it felt intimidating. You cautiously wandered onward, the corridor was fairly empty with only a few people littered here and there, some people on the phone, some couples making out and drunk people stumbling around aimlessly. You reached the entrance of the hall and looked around, there were so many rich and famous people here, it was easy to feel like you didn’t belong here. You saw some of your co-workers spanning the hall, there were some of them together in groups, sticking together but then you saw someone in the crowd that was not with the rest of your colleagues. It was Jonathan. It felt like time stopped when you saw him, he was wearing a really lovely suit and you felt your pulse quicken, you took a step backwards and bashfully looked at the ground,

“Be still my heart.” You muttered to yourself.

You braced yourself and walked on into the foyer, you decided to get something to drink to set your head straight. After sipping your drink, you looked up only to lock eyes with none other than Jonathan on the other side of the room. He smiled at you and smiled back, if you had still had the water in your mouth you probably would have spat it out in surprise. Luckily, you were able to hide your surprise pretty well. 

The moment was cut short when a man who seemingly worked for Bruce Wayne came onto the stage and told everyone that the ballroom was now open and people began to make their way in the direction of the ballroom. You put your drink down and followed the crowd, you could see Jonathan up ahead in the corner of your eye and you tried to ignore him for your own good, however, you were doing a terrible job at that.

Once you entered the ballroom, you were mesmerised by how enchanting it truly was in here. You took in every last corner of it and smiled in awe. Your eyes travelled back down again and you suddenly felt a little shy again, remembering Jonathan was here. You really had to get a hold of yourself and forget your feelings whilst you were here, you had to act professional!

A soft song was being played by the orchestra they had hired and many people had already coupled off and started dancing and talking in the ballroom, you found a place off to the side to stand and took in the environment. Jonathan walked over to you and stood next to you,

“[L/N], Hello.” He nodded in your direction,

“Crane, good to see you.” You responded.

“It’s rather, chaotic, in here, isn’t it?” He smiled,

“Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” you laughed a little.

You looked in his direction slightly, he was still just as handsome as before, shit. You ended up catching Jonathan's gaze on accident, to which caused him to speak,

“Would you like to dance for a little?” He said, his tone slightly softer than previously. You paused, you wanted to, but felt shy, how typical.

“Are you sure?” you crossed your arms and looked at him,

“It might be fun, plus, we may as well get in a few of the photos from the event.” He joked,

“Alright, sure, let’s go.” You both walked into the main area of the room where people were dancing. Your mind felt like it was literally screaming at you, you weren’t sure if it was in an ‘Oh my god, this is so exciting’ way or a ‘No no no no no, abort abort, abort mission’ way. Anyway, you still seemed pretty composed and he took your hand, either way. You started to lazily dance along with everyone else, you felt completely in your element and yet completely out of it at the same time, a very strange feeling, maybe it was just the nervousness.

Funnily, photographs were taken of you both, you spied it just out of the corner of your eye and you’re pretty sure he noticed too. Dancing with Jonathan and now you have proof of it? There’s some bragging rights! 

“Wait- what if people get the wrong idea? I’m gonna be hassled by questions and rumours going back into work.” You thought in your head. 

“What if those ideas are good ideas?” a voice replied. Voices aren’t meant to reply to you in our head so that means that…

“Huh- Did I say that out loud-” you felt a little embarrassed, then you remembered what he responded with, “..Hey, wait a minute-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut you off with a grin. Is he going to ignore what he said? Great, now you are going to worry about it, or more specifically, you are not going to stop thinking about this. Maybe, ever.

“If you say so.” Your eyes held a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity, whilst he looked slightly smug. There was a vague air of flirtatiousness between the two of you as you continued dancing, you both spoke to each other in a manner that wasn’t flirting, but borderline was. However, it was usually like this when you spoke, you just had that kind of dynamic. You can’t blame yourself for catching feelings in an atmosphere like that, right?

You felt a lot more comfortable than earlier, you had probably just gotten used to his presence. He was always good company and the rest of the bustling gala just seemed to phase out. There had come a point in which you and Jonathan had stopped speaking altogether and just had your eyes fixed on each other. You guys were also having a… moment? You were edging closer and closer to one another absentmindedly and a layer of tension filled the air. 

“Guests! Thank you for coming to this lovely gala we have been hosting today!” Oh yeah, that’s where you were. You and Jonathan stopped dancing and turned to face the voice and saw Bruce Wayne now on the stage introducing the event. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You all probably already know why this gala is being thrown today, we are here to support our very own Arkham Asylum and its employees who work tirelessly to try to reform the criminals it holds. The dining hall is now ready for everyone so if you follow the butlers they will direct you to your seating! Thank you.” Bruce gave a winning smile and moved away from the microphone and off of the stage.

You looked to Jonathan who nodded in the direction of the hall and you both started to make your way over.

The room was beautiful, with hundreds of tables brimming the hall. You stuck to Jonathan like glue, because despite all of the friendly-seeming faces, it was still pretty nerve-racking and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to enjoy being your protector.

You were eventually seated, with Jonathan being in the seat next to you on your right. You were glad for that, at least. Apart from him, you were surrounded by a load of unfamiliar faces that lined your table, not that that was surprising, you couldn’t recognise 90% of the people attending this. 

There was a lot of, ‘How do you do’s and ‘What is your name’ and ‘Where do you work’ as everyone around you settled in. They asked you and Jonathan many questions about your jobs upon learning that you both worked at the asylum.

“So, Dr. Crane, what’s it like working with a bunch of criminals? Isn’t it dangerous?” one woman who appeared to be quite rich asked. She wore an expensive dress and a face full of extravagant makeup.

“Ah, well, we don’t just have them running rampant with a knife or such whilst we are in appointments with them.” His comment earned some laughter from the table. He was good at this, you smiled to yourself knowing you were in good hands and that you could relax a little because Jonathan knew what he was doing.

A different man, one who sat on your left side began to strike up a conversation with you.

“Dr. [L/N], a pleasure to finally talk to you. I have been meaning to ever since I saw you arrive!” This comment earned a suspicious side-eye from Jonathan but he quickly looked away and continued the conversation he was in.

“Oh, well it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” you politely responded and extended your arm to shake his hand, which he took, shook and lingered for a bit too long before releasing it.

“You must be very intelligent to be a psychiatrist. Where did you study?” He leaned over remotely closer, awaiting your reply.

“Gotham University for the most part! I enjoyed my time there, actually.” You tried to be oblivious to how he was acting, but it was super off-putting.

“Ah, a good one. I have known friends who have attended there!” His breath stinks of booze. He was closer still and you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, but could you excuse me. I think I need to use the restroom.” He nodded his head and you stood up. Jonathan had an idea of what was going on and waited two minutes before leaving too.

You walked as fast as you could to get yourself some air. You were back in the foyer and nearly at the bathroom when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“[Y/N]!” You turned around and your eyes were met with Jonathan. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m sorry. Everything was just really… hectic. I needed some air…” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Was it that man? Did he make you feel uneasy, or something?” His eyes looked full of care and concern. He really knew you well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you can go, you don’t have to worry.” You tried to brush it off but he could tell how it got to you. He moved his hand, which was still holding your wrist, to hold your hand.

“I’m not just going to leave you here when you’re like this. I’m someone who cares for you.” He sounded truly earnest, it made your heartbeat speed up when he said that. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me. If it will make you feel better, we can switch seats. If he tries anything, even if he looks at you in a strange way, I’ll see to it myself.”

“Jonathan… Thanks.” You smiled to which he returned it.

“Shall we?” His facial expression shifted to a smirk.

“We shall.”

You both made your way back to the table, sitting in each other’s seats. You realised you were still holding hands and had to unfortunately let go to sit down. You settled back down and the man from earlier began to speak.

“I think you two are sitting in the wrong seats.” He was so clearly annoyed but tried not to show his frustration by placing an obvious artificial smile on his lips.

“Hm, it seems that we are,” Jonathan said, turning to you. “Ah well, no point in getting up again.” He shrugged and was pulled into another conversation with someone on the table.

At some point, you had ended up placing your head on his shoulder to lean against which he let you do. It was comfy and by the time you realised you had done so, it had been about 5 minutes and he was fine with it so you decided to bask in the moment.

Bruce Wayne, that mysterious rich guy, was once again back on the stage. 

“Hello everyone,” he had a drink and a tiny spoon in his hand which he clinked to the glass to command everyone’s attention. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, is the best part, where I give you all a load of free food! Feel free to indulge yourselves as the butlers bring the food and beverages around to the tables.” Then he confidently strode off the stage and back to his seat. His table was less full of businessmen in suits and more full of beautiful women in expensive dresses.

Everyone turned back to their conversations as trays and plates came out of the ginormous kitchen hiding somewhere in the back. There were all sorts of food that you had yet to try in your life but you were eager to. You had to sit up though so that meant lifting your head off of Jonathan’s shoulder.

You, along with the rest of the guests began to eat the food served. Whilst also maintaining some light conversation. By this time, you had quite the collection of business cards handed to you by various people at this table. 

Bruce stood up to toast to the event, “Here is a toast, to this pleasant gala and to those we are holding it for. A toast to all of the incredible employees of Arkham Asylum who are and aren’t here today!” He raised his glass which everyone else followed suit with.

Half an hour later and everyone was finishing up their meals and you too felt very full and idly set your head back onto Jonathan’s shoulder. You looked up at him from there and he looked back, laughing a little before looking away again.

The gala was starting to wrap up and people were starting to leave. Bruce went onto the stage to say his official goodbye causing a massive flock of people to also call it a night for them there.

“We should probably give it a minute before leaving, save getting trampled.” Jonathan looked to you, who was still leisurely resting on his shoulder.

“You’re right.” You said watching people leave, “This was surprisingly fun.” 

“I agree, I didn’t expect to have this nice of a time. Maybe it’s just thanks to you though.” Jonathan now rested his head atop yours. 

“I’m glad you were here too.” You sighed happily.

“We should see each other outside of work more.” He said, nonchalantly.

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Oh wow, he’s good, real smooth.

“Yeah, in fact, I am.” 

“Looks like we’ll be doing this again soon, then.” He had that smug grin again. Then sat up, took your hand and you both walked out together.

[bread-writes]

I would like to request a Lookism one please

ok so:

The reader is like a single mom and after a couple dates eith either the lookism boys or girls she decides that she want's them to meet her baby (who's like idk 1 ig you can change it I dint mind) how eould some of them react to their s/o having a kid?

you can do what ever characters! (but can one of them be Vasco? You can have whoever else!)

OooO that sounds interesting!

I’ll be combining it with this request since it’s pretty similar.

Writing under the cut!

CW: Children, Single parenting, Mentions of abuse and kidnapping (mild)

Vasco, Samuel, Jake, and Sinu Finding out The Person They're Seeing is a Single Parent

Euntae Lee

he probably would’ve never found out you were a single parent until you told him

he just assumed that you were busy with your life

never questions when you had to leave a date early after getting a notification on your phone

after a few dates or so when you’re finally comfortable enough, you take him to see your child

inviting him to your home was easy enough, you suppose

he’s a little confused on why you’re insisting on meeting up at your home, but is actually very excited to see what your home life is like

is taken aback by the sheer amount of toys littering the ground

you apologize, clearly embarrassed by the mess

the babysitter turns to greet you, surprised and a little terrified by the man at your side

however when they see your interlaced hands, they understand almost immediately, excusing themselves after handing your child back to you

if Vasco was shocked before, he’s definitely very very confused now

upon seeing him, your child would freeze before whimpering and sobbing

dropping his hand, you coo at your child, gently brushing away their tears whilst gently bouncing them in your arms

“...Is that your little sibling?”

you softly shake your head, refusing to meet his questioning gaze

the gears start to turn in his head; from your early exits to the toys on the floor

this was your child

he’ll stare at you for a moment, his eyes shining brightly with an emotion you couldn’t quite name

he’s mesmerized by how quickly you were able to calm the child--your child and is captivated by pure amount of love your gaze holds

after your child calms down, they’ll stare at Vasco for a moment, protectively clinging to the fabric of your sweater

their gazes sends cold shivers down Vasco’s spine

would they hate him?

do they find him scary--

he’s broken from his thought as a small babble makes its way to his ears

your child reaches out to him, their grabby fingers grasping onto his clothes

he stills for a moment until you let out a soft laugh

he watches as you allow your child to latch on to him, the soft smile on your features sending butterflies throughout his stomach

yeah, he could get used to this

Samuel Seo

definitely one of the more suspicious ones when it comes to your secret 

he won’t question it as much if you tell him you’re okay or to stop being so nosey

but, to be fair, when have words ever stopped him?

he won’t do much, just a little digging

which lead him to the fact that you live with someone else

a someone that you’ve never told him about

however, that’s not the part that surprised him

what surprised him was that the other tenant was a minor; listed as your dependent

how he found this out, you’ll never know

he’ll confront you about this

you weren’t happy to see him snooping around in your life, but you eventually sigh before taking him to your house

the babysitter was surprised to see you back so early, but handed you your child nonetheless

Samuel’s eyes would flicker between you and the child, noting the striking resemblances between you and the child

unsure of his feelings, he would excuse himself before making his leave

to be honest, he’s terrified

he’s never been the best when it came to familial relationships

from a young age, Samuel was exposed to violence which blossomed into a few dangerous habits

ex: nearly losing it whenever he’s interrupted

he doesn’t want to project said habits onto your child and potentially lose you; the only one who’s been able to put up with him

when he comes by the next day, you raise a brow as you open the door but usher him in anyway

your child just stares at him and he stares back

it’s just really awkward until you step back in

you move to pick your child up only to be stopped by your lover

he bends down and picks them up underneath their arms, lifting them up lion king style before continuing to stare at them

“This is fine... I suppose.”

Jake Kim

like Vasco, Jake is an idiot who probably never found out you were a single parent unless you told him

there’s also the fact that he’s also extremely busy and wouldn’t question your random disappearances

the way he found out you had a child was actually an accident, really

you were just taking your child for a small stroll in the park when Jake spotted you

he was concerned as to why you were hunched over and what currently had your attention

as he approached, the light coos of your child began to fill the air, mingling with your laughter

a hand on your shoulder caused you to flinch, quickly turning to face the person

your eyes widen as your eyes land on none other than Jake, subconsciously trying to shield your child from your lover

when he sees the child the first thing that goes through is mind is whether or not you kidnapped this child

no, like, seriously

“...Did you kidnap a child?”

“Wha-- No! Why would I kidnap my own child?!”

it takes a moment for your words to sink in 

but when they do, Jake’s eyes are wide with disbelief and you’re covering your mouth 

your child only stares, unable to read the tense mood between their parent and the giant man

when Jake shakes himself out of his daze, he sighs

at first you think he’s mad at you

that is until his arms wrap around your waist and he nuzzles his face into your shoulder

you can feel his lips pull into a smile as he continues to hug you

“You didn’t have to hide this from me. I would still love you regardless if you had a child or not.”

Sinu Han

he strikes me as the kind of guy who would already know but would want you to be comfortable enough to share it with him

when you do, he’s over the moon

...even if it was just a slip of the tongue

he’s so charismatic that you won’t realize what you said until you see the gleaming smile breaking his face

“I’m glad you’re finally trusting me.”

you blink up at him, “You knew?”

he ruffles your hair his unwavering smile sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach

“Of course I knew!”

when you offer for him to meet your child he’s so happy he almost immediately dragging you to buy gifts your child

even if you tell him that it’s fine and that Big Deal’s already tight on funds he’ll insist that he buy a gift because this is your child, after all

yeah, Samuel’s definitely pissed with his sudden splurging, but says nothing to his boss

definitely doesn’t stop him from glaring at the pile of toys and onesies  Sinu bought for your child

Jake on the, other hand, is just concerned

he knows his boss could be weird at times...but was it really necessary to buy three versions of a single cat toy?

upon actually meeting your child, they just instantly click

almost as if they were his child all along

not going to lie, you were pretty jealous

but as long as the to people you cared most about in your life were happy, who were you to be sad?

i- uhhhhhhh I’m back??? Definitely not my best work... especially Samuel’s part, so if you aren’t satisfied with these feel free to shoot an ask! Again, so sorry for disappearing off the face of the Earth like that... 

Edit: LMAO NOT ME FORGETTING TO ADD TAGS FJDIHFJOIDKJFNODKL

[beyondspaceandstars]

Take Me Away

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: slight angst, eventual fluff Summary: Royalty!AU - You and your lady-in-waiting Wanda have been in a secret, forbidden relationship but everything gets tested when your father, the King, announces you are to be wed to a prince from a neighboring country. A/N: i’ve been loving royalty!au stuff lately and wanted to take my own stab at it. it’s not the most complicated, spectacular piece but i enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Wanda always arrived to your chambers right at the crack of dawn. Ever the punctual one, your lady-in-waiting never wasted a second once that bright light of a new day came through the windows. Sometimes she was even tasked with waking you up, ranting and raving about how your gown was going to take forever to lace up or that your hair wasn’t going to be dry enough to meet your family for breakfast.

Her frantic attitude always made you laugh. You thought her worrying heart was so silly and to show for it, you’d sometimes make it a point to shut her up with a kiss. One thing would lead to another until you two were lost among the silk sheets.

That all, though, had come to a stop today. Wanda was late this morning and you sadly knew why. Her heart must’ve been breaking, taking all her energy to pick up the pieces one by one this morning. You didn’t blame her, really, you felt the same break within you.

It had all fallen out last night. Your father, the usually benevolent King, had held a feast for your court and the royal family of a neighboring country. This wasn’t unusual for him as he very much loved to entertain. Everything had been going smooth. You were lost in the dancing and laughing with the patron, eagerly showing off the brand new dress your tailor had delivered that morning. You even got to sneak some cheeky glances at Wanda who stood off with the other servants, ready when needed.

Everything came to a screeching halt the second dinner had concluded. In between the refills of wine and arrival of dessert, your father had a surprise announcement to. It was as if a million bombs were going off. He revealed you were set to be married to the bordering country’s Prince. No one had told you, not even a hint from your mother, just this public declaration. You looked towards the king and his son — your soon-to-be-husband — and they were just beaming with joy. All plans and politics were falling into place for them while your world was crumbling.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom where you vomited profusely. Wanda, though, didn’t arrive to help. In fact, she didn’t arrive to your room for the rest of the night, sending one of the temporary servants instead.

You fell asleep feeling the loneliest you had felt in a long time. And those feelings certainly weren’t subsiding as you sat at your vanity the next morning, still waiting for Wanda.

You had been sitting alone for so long you thought she had abandoned her duties — or maybe she had just straight up retired last night and you were waiting on nothing — but then there was the unmistakable sound of your heavy door creaking open followed the gentle clicking of it closing. You peered into your looking glass, shifting it so slightly to show you the presence behind you.

"Wanda," you sighed, her naming falling from your lips as if it was the sweetest honey.

"Your Highness." While unsurprising, her cold and stoic response cut you. Your body tensed. Last time she had called you that was upon your very first meeting. Before she was the lover you kept in the shadows. Before there was ever a chance of losing her. The royal title felt like a death sentence now.

After a deep breath, you slowly placed the looking glass back on the table. You felt Wanda approach you from behind with caution. You didn’t know whether to turn around or ask her to begin her morning duties. If you were to be really honest with yourself, you just wanted to grab her and hold one another.

But Wanda seemed to have decided for the both of you. Hesitantly, she reached for the brush on the vanity and gently began on your hair. You wanted to cry.

"Wanda, please," you mumbled. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" She repeated, her fingers now running through your hair giving slight pulls as she fixed the curls. The actions reminded you of when she would… "And what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything!" You were nearly crying, your words coming out in weak begs. "I didn’t know anything about it, you have to trust me on that. I—I don’t want… I could never—,"

"Never, what?" Wanda cut you off, the brushing motions in your hair suddenly halted. "You couldn’t possibly think we could ever be together fully. I’ll admit, I indulged in this fantasies but I’ve stopped. We weren’t meant to be and you sure weren’t meant to be a single princess forever." She cleared her throat. "This was bound to happen, I fear."

"No, no," you fought back, shaking your head insistently. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you only jumped at the touch, feeling that burning connection between you two. You couldn’t believe how much hold she had over you. How much you had over one another.

"Your Highness, I’m afraid—,"

"We can run away." The words slipped out of you so fast you never had a chance to bite your tongue. It felt like the world stopped, like you had created your own bomb to set off. Wanda’s grip on your shoulder got tighter. You straightened your posture, meaning business now despite the tears still flowing. You placed your hand atop of hers and continued, "I really think we could do it, dear. I can access the family funds, we could pack a few things, then be off in the night. Wouldn’t that just be nice? We could go wherever, start whatever life we want. You’re not wrong to say this was bound to happen but that doesn’t mean we can’t escape it."

"My Lady… There must be some consideration for the prince, the kingdoms, your subjects—,"

"They’re better to have no ruler than one who lives in constant agony."

The declaration was bold but it was the farthest from a lie. You decided to finally turn and face Wanda, your hand now holding hers with the greatest, most loving strength. The first thing you noticed were her eyes. They were so red and heavy, no doubt from hours of crying. Her hair was a mess as well, complimented by the worn down servants gown she wore. She hadn’t put any effort in today, probably dragging herself about as you predicted.

Slowly, you pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Wanda let out a breathy gasp. When you met her eyes again, it appeared the deal had been sealed. But you needed her to say it.

"We can really do this, can’t we?" She asked shyly.

You nodded, a little grin playing at your lips. "I think we could go anywhere," you confirmed. "Maybe we can start a farm, raise some chickens or cows. Or — Oh! We could start a nice garden. I loved the one here but father wouldn’t let me learn how to care for it."

Wanda sighed as she watched you get lost in a new fantasy, one way beyond just being together but having a life. "Speaking of your father, he will send people after us, won’t he? The palace guards will die trying to find us if they have to."

You simply shrugged. Sure, she wasn’t wrong, but this was a big place and who knew what bigger places were out there. "Let them," you finally said. "We’ll be so far long gone before they realize it they won’t know what hit them."

Silence fell between you two.

"You’re going to give up all this for a chance for us to be together?" Wanda finally asked, motioning towards the gloriousness of the castle chamber. She was a very thorough one, extremely detailed-oriented, which made her the best partner-in-crime you had decided before ever engaging romantically. Eventually, it was one of the things that made you fall head over heals. She noticed everything, always the sweet and cool observer. You didn’t blame her for using the skill now.

"Wanda, dear," you sighed as your hand crept its way to her neck. "I’d give it all up a million times over to be with you."

Your sweet lover looked like she was now going to cry so you took the leap to lean up, catching her lips with yours. After a stunned moment, she returned the kiss, your lips moving in a familiar sync. It was electrifying knowing you hadn’t lost her. Knowing she was most likely going to be it for you, forever. Completely devoted to one another, comfortably and freely.

Wanda’s hand begin caressing your cheek when she pulled away slightly. Your foreheads were touching now but it still wasn’t close enough for you.

"Let’s do it," she whispered. "Take me away."

Words seemed so hard, something only the presence of Wanda could do to you. Unable to figure what was right to say now, of all times, you nodded and wrapped one arm around her waist. You pulled her into you, hugging her with all your might. She didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, soaking each other in.

"Of course, dear," you eventually said. Such small words they held the mysterious beginning and marked the glorious end.

[syubub]

What makes BTS most vulnerable

Woo! A reading! I wanted to do this bc its been on my list for a little while now!

I just got off work and wanted to do this asap! Pls forgive mistakes! I'm not gonna proof read bc im lazy.

Cheeky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

So so so so

First off, I did each member and also one for the group! I didn't have a specific plan in mind when I started, so I just went with the flow!

Let's start with the group first

So. The 5 of pentacles is what makes them most vulnerable. This card talks about isolation, feeling lost, anxiety, not having money or influence. Most of all, a mindset of lack.

All of this to me makes me think that what makes them most vulnerable is the fear of being right back where they started. Feeling exiled from the industry, not having the funds to be sure of a stable future and also not having a strong sense of identity as a group and within the group. It's like their vulnerability comes from something almost like ptsd? Let me try to make that make more sense. I genuinely think that where they started and the uncertainty and constant ridicule really had an impact on them. The vulnerability they have as a group is essentially emotional distress? Like, I wish I had better words to explain. It's the fear that they haven't actually grown or gotten anywhere and that they are insignificant that is their vulnerability. Fear based on where they started?

I really hope that made sense. Moving on though, 7 of swords is how it manifests for them. This card is sneaky. It talks about getting away with something and betrayal but I think this meaning is the most relevant: strategic moves. So how their vulnerability manifests is that the fear that they have causes them (and the company) to make very specific moves to keep their fears from happening. It's like, they take steps to make sure their fears don't get realized. Career wise but also personally. They can sometimes force growth because they fear stagnation. Kinda like rolling something uphill? Once it loses momentum it starts rolling back down.

The other two cards, Wellness and busy times and multitasking, are what they can do to lessen that vulnerability. Keeping healthy in mind body and spirit (also keeping the group bond healthy too) as well as channeling their emotions and fears into productivity. (Think the ly:tear album)

Seokjin

This is really intresting. So, what makes him most vulnerable is repressed emotion that causes inner turmoil. The moon is all about your insides and the vastness it has. In its reverse it talks about the darker parts of your subconscious. So, him bottling shit up and repressing it becomes a monster that affects him without him even necessarily knowing.

As for how that manifest in his life, it literally affects his judgment. Like, literally. It messes with his decision making.

As a fellow human with a similar problem, I can almost bet that any issue he has with another member will be shoved away and it will fester until he's at his breaking point and he'll absolutely weaponize it but disguise it as "just poking fun" or he might also purposefully create low level chaos. It's really intresting because this could manifest in so many ways. It could be his insecurities, issues with other people, fears ect and they fester in his brain space fucking with his judgment.

What he can do to lessen this vulnerability is deep emotional healing. Istg these cards are too perfect to make up. He needs to do THE WORK and heal it. He probably recognizes this and is working on it. Its not fair to himself to put himself aside in order to put other people first. (I think this probably happened a lot in the early bts days bc he had to be an older brother and a responsible figure to 6 other kids so he prioritized group harmony over his own issues and emotions)

Yoongi

????

Um, okay. So what makes yoongi most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. That's the 10 of pentacles rev. But it gets interesting bc the 10 of swords isn't what makes him vulnerable but it also isn't how it manifests?? So here's my theory time. What makes him most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. I can only assume that it's the isolation and internal conflict of benefiting off of a system that fucked you over in the first half of your life and also feeling bad for having wealth that most people can never imagine? I really don't know? But with the 10 of swords talking about betrayal and deep wounds, it could be that he's extremely afraid of being taken advantage of? Like, that's another downside of wealth. Maybe people have tried to use him for money or influence? Especially in his personal life. Like, he probably finds it extremely hard to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal over something that is already hard for him to deal with?

Also loss. He wasn't born rich. He worked his ass off to get what he has and he's probably afraid to lose it. He might "stash" money?

Anyway, knight of swords, how it manifests. This card is about a drive to succeed. So essentially this makes him run and push himself hard and harder and harder to out run what he sees as an inevitable end? Sometimes this can blind him.

As for what he can do to lessen this vulnerability, we have, self confidence through God confidence. This card to me talks about having faith in your actions and skills and trusting in yourself even if you doubt your ability. Essentially, yoongi just needs to trust in himself to land on his feet no matter what happens. Life is always uncertain so he needs to trust that he can weather any storm he might face.

Hoseok

This was one gave me some thoughts. So, similar to jin, it's the bottling shit up and having you subconscious mind eventually figure shit out because it's been neglected but with the 2 of swords in reverse, talking about confusion and being indecisive, I think this kinda causes him to shut down? He might get apathetic. It's almost like when you work a computer so hard that it crashes.

And how this manifests for him with the 3 of pentacles in reverse is that he gets thrown out of alignment with the group. Kinda like how you shouldn't drive on a flat tire. He withdraws and becomes hard to reach and puts up a wall that causes a lot of problems for him as well as those he is around. It's a defense mechanism. It can also manifest in him preferring to work alone as well instead of group settings.

This exposes him to depression and doubt.

Also similar to jin, for how to lessen this vulnerability we have Bless your heart with talks about reaching out (breaking down that wall) and healing your heart and healing the root issue.

Namjoon

Okay. This is the one that makes so much sense but also confuses me.

So. What makes him most vulnerable is the magician rev and 10 of cups. Unrealized potential and poor planning as well as love, harmony and alignment.

So.... what? How does love and the happiest happiness make him vulnerable?

Well, I think he's suspicious of it. I think that he can't help but wonder in his big big big brain if THIS is the right happy or if its really happiness at all? Almost like commitment issues but also not? It's like, he's afraid that it won't last? He might have trouble fully allowing himself happiness. Also, what makes him the most vulnerable is love. It opens up every bit of his soul and puts it on a laundry line for everyone to see and I don't think he thinks he's worthy enough to be seen like that?

As for how it manifests in his life, 9 of cups, personal fulfillment and a strive to have everything else in hislife sorted out? Essentially wanting to have a perfect foundation so eventually he can share with all the important people in his life.

As for what he can do. Value your self worth. pretty straight up. He needs to value himself more. He deserve love and he deserves to feel seen even if it's uncomfortable at first.

Jimin

Oki. What makes jimin most vulnerable is choice. The 7 of cups talks about focusing on what's best for you and making choices based not on illusion. I think jimin is plagued by unrealistic expectations and confronting the fact that it's not possible is what makes him most vulnerable. He makes choices that are driven by illusion. Usually about self. I think specifically about how he doesn't always see how good he already is so he pushes himself to chase after something that isn't always right for him or even there in the first place. Acknowledging and facing it brings vulnerability that he doesn't always want to face. I think he might equate vulnerability to powerlessness.

How it manifests. 9 of wands rev. Paranoia and being defensive. It's his own fear and insecurities manifesting outside of himself.

As for what he can do, passion and purpose and multifaceted. Focus on what is close to his heart and don't get side tracked. Theres so much more to this situation and there isn't an easy fix. There's a lot of things that need working on in order for him to feel comfortable.

Taehyung

Oki oki oki. What makes Tae most vulnerable is strength rev. Raw emotion. He doesn't always express his emotions and when he chooses to be more open, his emotions go through a bit of a filter. Showing his unfiltered emotions makes him most vulnerable because it's him as he is. In his truest form. It's all of his wants, joys, fears. Everything.

As for how it manifests, 10 of wands and Hanged man, it becomes a burden that he carries because he feels like he can't just be honest. He pauses and allows himself time to feel on his own but that means possibly being misunderstood and a bit isolated.

Now. What can he do to lessen it? Bless your heart and healthy communication in relationships. TALKING TO PEOPLE AND ALLOWING HIMSELF THAT VULNERABILITY. It's not bad to be vulnerable. Heal that shit bb bc you are worth it.

Jungkook

So, what makes him most vulnerable? The world in rev. Not having closure and seeking it. The process of seeking closure for himself about things that could have or putting to rest something that has come full circle. It brings vulnerability because he has to face things that he could have done better. He has to face things coming to a close and be okay with is.

How it manifests, the tower, ace of cups, 5 of cups reversed.

The tower is essentially everything crumbling down. I think jk thinks too much? If you follow a ball of yarn all the way to the end then you just unraveled a whole ass ball of yarn.

Him going to close those things cause him to unravel his foundation.

With the ace of cups, creativity and love/ new emotions, I think him taking the time to pursue personal closure helps him to be more open to love as well as giving him creative fuel.

The 5 of cups rev. Means that him doing this closure thing helps him to forgive himself bc he's taking time to move on and tie up loose ends?

For jk this closure thing manifests in every aspect of his like and I almost see it as him shedding? Sounds weird but he's consciously moving on and paying attention to what he needs?

As for what he can do? Deep emotional healing! He runs the risk of feeling more of the tower manifestation so he needs to keep himself emotionally healthy in order for this to be productive instead of destructive!

~~~~~~~

I hope y'all like this! I feel like the cards didn't always follow what I was kinda going for with my questions but it all works out in the end I guess?

My next reading will be up later this week (I've already done it and taken all of my notes. I just have to type it all out) so look foward to that as well!

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Positive

Cult girl and Hannibal find a way to turn a life-altering mistake to their favor.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: accidental pregnancy, discussion of abortion, adoption, slight emetophobia

Another week passed and the 'hangover' didn't subside. Then a third week passed, so you had to give up the façade and just admit you were sick. Hannibal was smugly concerned, but not alarmed. It paid to have a doctor for a fiancé. Studying could be done from bed and you needed to be in perfect working order to burn down your grandmother's country club and fully enjoy it.

Hannibal wasn't so much of a hypochondriac that he denied you affection while bed-ridden. That, or he didn't believe what you had was contagious. Whatever it was.

It wasn't until you woke up late, just days before the start of the new semester, that you discovered. You hobbled blindly to the bathroom to take your medicine. You were fully prepared to drop to your knees and vomit in the toilet and you wanted nothing more than to return to bed and slip back into sweet unconsciousness. Not even microdosing meth could keep you awake.

You slid your birth control packet out of its sleeve. You were halfway through the green placebo pills, so you were sure that didn't help how miserable you felt. This period sure had a hell of a build-up.

That's when a number caught your eye.

It was a number you weren't even previously aware existed. A date on your birth control packet. Dated three months prior.

You weren't lucid enough to comprehend what it meant, but once it hit you, you spit the pill into the sink.

Expired. You thought. How the fuck do pills expire?

No. No. No. No.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." You called back. "I... just need to take a shower."

You turned the faucet on. It was a bad lie and he would figure it out eventually, but you couldn't involve him. Not yet. You needed a minute alone to think.

You found the pregnancy test you stashed under the sink all those years ago. You double-checked the lock, then began the test. There was no romantic or even palatable way to describe the process of peeing on a stick, quietly as possible, to avoid your frankly terrifying fiancé's notice. Once it was done, you wrapped the still-loading test in toilet paper and shoved it back under the sink.

You had no idea how long it would take to give you a result. Or if waiting four years to use it would give you a false result. There was so much you didn't know.

You jumped into the shower and washed up, trying to push all thoughts of panic out of your head. It didn't work. You went right into bury-the-body mode. A fall down the stairs could best pass for an accident, but had the unintended consequences of severe bodily harm. You wondered if those special herbal teas actually worked and where you'd find one. Or, instead of investing in gimmicky, pseudo-scientific abortion teas or throwing yourself down a flight of stairs, you could just talk to him.

You sat on the bathroom floor in a towel for what felt like hours, holding the mummified pregnancy test between your fingers. It took all your strength to rip through the tissue paper and confirm what you already knew.

A big, obnoxious pink plus sign. Almost like it was rubbing it in.

Your head was screaming just talk to him. He was your goddamn fiancé. The man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. But you couldn't tell him. Not after what he said at the country club.

"Hannibal?" You called out, voice weak. "Can you come here, please?"

He opened the bathroom door to find you huddled against the sink wearing nothing but a towel. It was a sight that would make anyone freak out.

"My god, [F/N]." He took a knee beside you. "Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?"

You gestured to the pregnancy test at your side. You hugged your knees into your chest and waited for him to process everything.

He looked at you with an unreadable expression. "I thought you were on birth control?"

You covered your face with your hands. "I did too. Nobody told me that the pills actually expire."

Then came the question that you were dreading.

"What do you want to do?"

That was why you were hesitant to tell him. Not because he would try to make a decision for you, but because he wouldn't.

"I don't know." You blurted out. "What do you want to do?"

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. "You know I can't tell you that. You need to decide for yourself."

"That's what I was afraid you were going to say." You threw your head back in exasperation. "I'm just asking for a little direction. You said you definitely wanted to have kids-"

"Not like this." He cut you off. "Not when it would derail your entire career.” 

“Look, you know I was on the fence about having kids at all.” You rambled, just trying to collect your thoughts. “But then you described what you wanted for us and it just sounded so nice.” 

“Darling, I am begging you,” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Please, decide for yourself and only yourself.” 

“I’m trying!” You objected. “I just need a second to think.” 

“Don’t think, just answer.” He implored. “What do you want to do?” 

“I want to get an abortion.” You blurted out before slapping your hand over your mouth. 

“Was that really so hard to say?” Hannibal asked, voice broken with relief. Relief of what, you couldn’t place. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him. “It was, a little.” 

“Why?” He tilted his head curiously. “And please don’t say it was because of me.” 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, hiding your face again. “I just learned I was pregnant, like, five minutes ago. I shouldn’t be expected to make a choice this massive without at least ten minutes to think about it.” 

“Do you really want to get an abortion?” He asked. 

Your voice wobbled with uncertainty. “No... yes?” 

“I see.” He said, as if this were just a point of academic curiosity that didn’t involve him whatsoever. “Is there a part of you, no matter how small, that wants to see the pregnancy to term?” 

“Well, yeah. Thus the basis of my uncertainty.” You threw your hands up. “But I also know it’s insanely unrealistic to think I could just speedrun my last two years of school and however long it takes to establish a career just to get to the domestic bliss.”

“You would do good to not expect motherhood to be a blissful retirement plan, love." Hannibal gently scorned. "Parenting takes just as much commitment as your studies. Likely more."

"I know." You bashed your palms against your forehead. "I said it was unrealistic, didn't I? Look, I just don't foresee any worthwhile outcomes if I carry this pregnancy to term. Even to put it up for adoption just seems selfish. Why bring a kid into the world just to set them up for a shitty life?"

Hannibal paused, and looked off into the distance pensively.

"If you could forgive me a hypothetical," He began. "What if we could guarantee them a wonderful life?"

"Are we talking philosophy, or do you have an actual suggestion?" You probed.

"A bit of both, depending on where your mind takes you." He smirked as if he were about to say something very clever. "What if Beatrice [L/N]'s estate made sure our child had a safe, comfortable upbringing? With a weighty college trust fund in their name, naturally."

You couldn't tell if this was brilliant or insane. It all depended on how 'hypothetical' the whole situation really was. Either way, you were interested.

"Go on." You urged, letting the idea slither into your mind.

"There's nothing in the will that specifically states we must raise the child ourselves." He recounted. "Only that it must be of blood descent."

You hadn't considered that, but it made sense once you heard it out loud. Your grandmother had many skills to make her a sharp manipulator, but her inattention to detail was always her downfall.

“Forty-five million extra dollars in the bank would be nice.” You said. You were humoring him at first, but when you said it out loud, it rang true. 

“Forty-five is drops in the bucket compared to what we can get from her property.” He added. “The house and the golf course.” 

You put your hand on your chin, actually, seriously considering it. You were on the precipice of inheriting more money than you could possibly spend in one lifetime. Money that could make so many problems go away overnight. Money you could hand out to anyone you wanted to, just to make their lives a little easier. You pictured yourself giving waitstaff six-figure tips, or handing a hundred dollar bill to someone asking for change on the street. You could erase your best friend's college debt as a birthday present. Get Hannibal a proper gift. All with money you bled out of your abusers.

It was divine justice. All at the price of nine months of your life.

"So..." Your voice trailed off. "We just need to keep this thing alive for the next nine months..."

"We can find an adoptive family in that time." Hannibal nodded along. "And we can set up a college fund for the child to be given to them on their 18th birthday."

"And we could make the adoption open, in case the child ever wants to meet us." You said.

"Right." He agreed. "Allowing the option for an adoptee to meet their biological parents is much better for their mental health and adjustment."

You covered your mouth with your hand, only to hide your excitement. "I take it back, I'm starting to see a positive outcome."

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Dadzawa/Class 1-A with wolf quirk reader where once a month they make the class cram into their dorm room and they realize it's cause the senators vaccume the halls once a month and the reader is trying to protect them and keep them mistress while they themself is stress. Next month suddenly all the floors are hard wood, definitely not Iida or Todoroki's doing. I love your work and thank you if you do this. 💕💕

• At first, the very first time you heard the vacuum

• You were like 🤚🏻😃

• 'I thought I'd be safe' n o e haha. You are not safe

• You DIP

• You are out of the common room SO fast

• Mina and Shoji happen to be walking out of the common room too :)

• So you immediately grab them, without thinking really and you drag them into your dorm room with you

• they're. ???

• and you play it off like you just want to watch a movie with them

• and they buy it and they're like fuck yeah

• youre grateful the God above you decided to help you out by making them semi dumb

• How embarrassing would it be if they figured out you were scared of a VACUUM CLEANER

• it wasn't your fault tho!!

• The sound hurt your ears, and loud noises scared you

• and it just- it just barreled towards whatever it was going to suck up and it was freaky!

• I mean they probably thought the same thing too right?

• maybe?

• even if they didn't it was up to you to do something.

• So you get comfortable between Mina and Shoji (bless his heart,) you start planning

• Instead of doing oh I dunno, school work stuff, lmao, you figure out the bastards schedule.

• every month, on the 17th, they vacuum the class A dorms

• so, during the 17th, when you saw him walk in, you would gather everyone to 'watch a movie' in your dorm room.

• The first time, you started out with the bakusquad + Deku.

• Then Dekus nerdy friends and The emo's.

• Eventually everyone in class A is in your dorm, just chillin

• having a good time

• very confused but they decided collectively not to question it

• it becomes a monthly thing

• though they never get an answer as to why

• its 5 months, happens 5 times before someone figures out its always on the same day

• it's denki that figures that out, he's like "ooh! Today is dorm hangout day!!"

• and everyone else is like what?? Fuck you talking about??

• and then Kirishima is like bro yeah, its always on the 17th huh

• and Dekus inches kitchen so he starts mumbling

• and Bakugou ignores them

• So later in the day, you shove everyone into your dorm

• And while people are just vibing

• Bakugou, Deku, todoroki and Kirishima and trying to figure out why the fuck theyre always in here on the 17th

• and why you would always nervously glance at the door

• And then Bakugou heard it

• The fucking vacuum

• and he quickly put two and two together.

• "Its the vacuum," he whispered to Kirishima, "its always when the janitor vacuums the hallways. She hates loud noises, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, it'd make sense that she doesn't like what the vacuum sounds like right?"

"That could be one of the things she inherited with her quirk. Along with the pack mentality and laying in the sun or scenting." Deku adds.

"I'll take care of it." Is all todoroki says

• You of course

• are too busy internally freaking out because the damn thing is getting closer

• you dont hear the conversation

• A week later you walk into the dorms and freeze.

• the carpet is gone.

• all of it

• youre like???

• what the fuck

• And the class smiles to themselves when on the 17th, youre just chillin, having a good time

• alseep on the dorm room couch

• it TOTALLY wasn't Todorki and Iida who funded it lmao