#and he told me 'this weak ass shit stays in this chat' which it clearly hasn't because i've put it here but i think that's okay because this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beccascribbles · 4 years ago

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sequel to 'only fools fall for you'

where you give atsumu a taste of his own medicine

a/n - not sure if i like how this turned out... but i hope you enjoyed anyway!

warnings - nsfw (sex, swearing), a little bit of angst because why not, toxic relationship

word count - 3k

You were sticky with sweat, legs shaking as you came down from your orgasm. Atsumu watched you, cock still sheathed inside you as you quivered around him.

"Fuck," he breathed, pulling out slightly to thrust slowly back in, the movement causing you to let loose a whine. Your fingers dug into the flesh of his back. One hand went to cup your face, holding you still as he looked at you. "You're sensitive tonight, sweetheart. Think you can last a little longer? I haven't cum inside you yet."

A low moan escaped your lips as he ground his hips into you, loving the way you clenched around him, the feel of your nails digging into his skin. You were far better than the girl he had been with before turning up outside your door. The sloppy head she had given him had left him frustrated, dying for a good fuck from you, the girl who believed she was his. Your head bobbed in a weak nod, all the encouragement he needed to pound into you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. This was purely for his pleasure, though the sight of you, flushed and drooling, was almost enough to send him over the edge. With a loud grunt, he pushed himself deep inside you, releasing the hot seed into your clenching pussy. Slowly, he pulled out, the feel of his cock dragging against your inner walls making you whine.

"You always take me so well, sweetheart," he praised, nipping gently at your neck, hands stroking up your sides. You twined your arms around his neck, letting out a soft whine as his strong arms wrapped around your waist. His next words were a reflex, almost robotic. "I love you."

They were empty of any emotion but you treasured them anyway, loving the way that soft affirmation of love made you feel. While you were aware of the other girls, had seen them with him enough times, you could be certain you were the only one to hear those words fall from his lips.

"Are you staying the night?" you questioned, voice soft as you pulled away from him slightly. His arms released you, a hand going up to cup your face as he brushed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"I've still got our shower together to look forward to, haven't I?" he teased, getting up from the bed. You edged towards him, resting your feet against the floor. He held his hand out for you, which you took, allowing him to pull you from the bed and towards him. Your legs shook under your weight, and you leaned on Atsumu heavily. You were so weak after he fucked you, a fact that filled him with pride. He was certain he was the only one who got to see you like this and he wanted to preserve that illusion for as long as possible.

As was your routine, you let Atsumu dry you off, let him dress you in one of his t-shirts, and let him pull you down beside him on the bed. You would always have your back pressed against his chest, one of his arms holding you tight against him as he nuzzled at your neck, pressing gentle kisses to the marked surface as you relaxed against him.

In the morning, you would wake up to him gone, the bed beside you empty. Before, he would have stayed, maybe woken you up with a kiss in the morning. That was before he had defined your relationship.

Dazed, barely awake, you reached out a hand, feeling along the covers for him. They were cold to the touch. It was painfully clear he hadn't stayed long. Long enough for you to fall asleep but that was it. It was the same old thing over and over again with him. To think you were still in love with him was foolish. But you were.

For some reason, the empty bed hurt more this time. Maybe it was because you knew how pointless it was to crave him, to pine for his touch. Maybe it was because you finally acknowledged how hopeless this situation was. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, finally making their way down your cheeks. Grabbing the hem of the top you had on, you wiped at your tears. It would do no good to cry over him, not when he constantly made you feel like shit.

Needless to say, trying to look presentable for university had been a task you weren't completely prepared for. Your face was left puffy from crying, and there was only so much a bit of makeup could hide. The hoodie you had slipped on, coupled with some sports leggings, added to your appearance. You played the role of tired and stressed student very well. If only it was university that was making you feel like this... That would have been an easy fix. All it would take would be a simple chat with your teacher, followed by some extra support. Atsumu would probably laugh in your face if you told him you had cried. The disdain he would feel towards you would be clearly written across his face. You weren’t sure that you could handle that.

Letting out a sigh, you collapsed into a seat at the back of the lecture theatre, trying to keep Atsumu out of your line of sight. Unfortunately, that was impossible. A girl was currently clinging to his arm, tracing patterns on the exposed skin. You gritted your teeth in annoyance, hearing his honeyed chuckle at whatever she had just whispered into his ear. He leaned forward, lips brushing against her ear, teasing at the sensitive skin. A blush burst to life on her cheeks and she caught eyes with a friend across the room, giving them a subtle wink. You would have to be a fool to not realise what he had just promised her. You slumped further down in your chair, head hanging as you allowed your eyes to drift shut.

The soft tap on your shoulder caused you to jerk upwards, head swivelling from side to side. Finally, your gaze landed on the man beside you, wearing a rather sheepish grin, likely embarrassed by your reaction. He gave an awkward smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just wondering if I could sit here."

"No, that's fine," you blurted, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture. "You can sit there."

He slid into the seat next to you, beginning to unpack his bag as you studied him. You were certain he had been in your class from the start of the year, but he had never approached you before. Though you were unaware, it was because Atsumu had warned others away from you. However, now it appeared he was losing interest, those who had previously shown an interest in you were now gathering the courage to approach. The longer you looked at him, the more you had to admit that he was attractive in an effortless way. His dark hair was voluminous, looked to be soft to the touch, while his blue eyes, framed by dark eyelashes, were alluring and appealing. Those eyes darted to meet yours and you stiffened slightly at being caught. You let out an awkward laugh.

"Shit, sorry," you explained, rubbing at the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to stare at you."

"No, no," he chuckled, lips twitching up in a small smile. He had taken your staring as confirmation of some sort of attraction for him, which could only be a good thing. "It's fine. You can look at me all you want... as long as I can admire you as well."

You swallowed, taking a moment to recover from his sudden forwardness. Finally, a coy smile slipped onto your face. This was perfect, a perfect opportunity to give Atsumu a taste of his own medicine. You reached out to run a finger along his inner wrist, lowering your voice and leaning forward. "Sounds good to me."

As the weeks went on, you were easily available to Atsumu far less. Often, he would turn up to your house only to realise you weren't home. After so long without a good long fuck, he craved your touch, needing you to sooth the constant itch that no one else seemed to be able to. He noticed you were avoiding his calls, leaving all his messages on read. That was when the thought of you having found someone else finally entered his brain. Seeing you laughing with that dark-haired man in a coffee shop on campus had only confirmed it for him. He concluded that it must have been this man who was keeping you away from home.

You leaned in towards the man, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. Teasingly, you brushed your lips against his, smiling slightly at the way he shivered at the touch, the hand resting on your thigh squeezing slightly. You placed a kiss to his jaw, kissing a slow trail up to his ear. "So, do you want to come back to mine, Daiki?"

This was the first time you had invited him back to yours, mainly out of fear that he would see Atsumu knocking at your door or, at worse, sitting on your bed with that entitled expression of his face that screamed that he expected you to fuck him. However, you figured enough time had gone by for Atsumu to get the hint. You weren't his toy, not anymore.

Daiki agreed readily, pushing his chair back and holding out a hand to pull you to your feet. While he had never been to your house before, you had done plenty in the comfort of his own room. Yet, he felt a rush of pride at finally being invited to your room and slightly nervous. When he had asked why he couldn't come back to yours, you had refused to give him a straight answer, dodging the question. Therefore, he felt like he was being given permission to see another side of you that you hadn't shown him before. He felt like you were finally starting to trust him.

The door shut with a click and you turned to face him. His hands held your waist, pulling you against him as you pulled him in to meet your kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, threading through the soft strands. As you lost yourself in the feel of the kiss, the movement of his lips against yours, his hands trailed up beneath your top, running against the warm skin, moving up to cup your breasts. He gave them a gentle squeeze, causing you to moan into his mouth. He needed more. You needed more. Pulling away, you grabbed his hand, leading him towards you bed. With a teasing grin, you pushed him onto the bed, moving to stand between his legs.

Slowly, letting your hands run up your body, you began to pull your top up, revealing smooth skin. Daiki wanted to touch you, to feel the soft skin. As you removed your top, his hands were already at your hips, sliding down your trousers. You stood before him in just your underwear, the sight making his cock twitch, strain against the restraints of his clothes. Teasingly, you stroked him through his trousers, causing him to let out a low grunt and buck into your touch.

"Please undress me, baby," he whined, hand grabbing at your wrist to guide you to the button of his jeans. "I want you to ride me. You'd look so fucking hot bouncing up and down on my cock."

Your hands rested on the button of his trouser as you leaned forward to press your lips against his. As you unbuttoned his trousers, his tongue explored the inside of your mouth while his hand pushed your panties down. He let out a soft moan at the feel of how wet you were. "Fuck, baby."

His fingers brushed against your pussy, slipping along your folds. Slowly, he circled your clit with the tip of his finger, let out a pleased hum at the moan that escaped your lips. With care, he pushed a finger into you, brushing against your inner wall, curving as he thrust back into you again. He always prepared you to take him so well, wanting it to be an enjoyable experience, showing it was for both of your pleasures rather than his own needs. When he inserted another finger, you had managed to pull his trousers, along with his underwear down his legs, finally freeing his cock. Deciding to return the favour, you wrapped your hand around his cock and began to stroke him, causing him to let out a low groan. He removed his fingers from you, sucking the juices from his fingers as you watched. "Get on my lap."

You readily obliged, straddling him, hovering just above his cock. He gripped your hips, guiding you down along his length. At the feel of his cock rubbing against your walls, you let out a whine, the feel of him filling you enough to make your inner walls flutter. He let out a low moan at the feeling, fingers digging into the flesh of your waist. "You feel so good. Do you think you can move?"

In response, you rose up slightly before sinking back down on his cock, marvelling at the feel of him inside of you, filling you up. "Shit, baby. Just like that."

You lost yourself in the feeling, in the soft groans he let out, the laboured breaths. Both of you were so wrapped up in each other, at the feeling of pleasure you felt, that you were ignorant to the sound of the door opening and then clicking shut.

With a frustrated expression on his face, Atsumu leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you ride another man's cock, the look on your face so similar to the one he had thought would be his alone to view. It was the sound of his drawl that finally caught your attention. "What a little fucking slut you are."

Your head turned to face him, lips hanging open slightly as you finished sinking down on Daiki's cock. He had gone stiff beneath you, hands gripping at your waist. No more groans slipped from his mouth. Instead he fixed Atsumu with a confused stare, head cocked slightly. "What the hell?"

The next thing you knew, you were being pulled from his lap and pushed behind him. He hurriedly pulled up his boxers and trousers. You were pressed against him, his body blocking most of yours from Atsumu's view. As Atsumu watched in amusement, Daiki wrapped a blanket around you in an attempt to preserve your dignity. Wearily, you addressed Atsumu. "Why are you here?"

"To fuck you obviously," he scoffed, pushing off the wall and stalking towards you. He was undeterred by Daiki's presence, simply pushing him to the side so he could stand directly in front of you. "Why don't you tell your little boyfriend to leave? I sure as hell don't want him here. Come on, sweetheart. If you're that horny... well, you know I can fuck you better."

"He's not my boyfriend," you protested, glancing over at Daiki, who was frozen in what could only be described as shock. It wasn't everyday a man walked into the house of the woman you were currently seeing and told her he was here for sex. "Not yet. We're just seeing how things go."

You could hardly admit that you were too scared of commitment after all the shit Atsumu had put you through.

Atsumu reached up a hand to cup your cheek, ignoring the way you flinched away from him. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I love you."

His hand was pulled away from you by Daiki, who had recovered enough to move to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and giving you a comforting squeeze.

"No, you don't," you spat, hands shaking as they held the blanket closed around your body. "You love the sex, Atsumu. If you really loved me, you wouldn't have been with multiple girls while fucking me, especially when you told me you loved me, that we were together. You're a fucking dick. Get out."

The words surprised him. For as long as he had been with you, you had been so submissive, bending to his will with ease. Now, you were rejecting him, pushing him away. And fuck if that didn't turn him on even more. It was apparent that he didn't plan on leaving, the way he moved closer to you a clear indication. Daiki stepped in front of you, blocking Atsumu's path. "She told you to leave."

"And she's just using you to make me jealous," he laughed, dismissing the young man in front of him. "So why don't you leave? Come on, y/n. You've got your revenge and I'm really fucking horny right now."

"Leave."

Your voice was cold, a tone you had never used on him before. It gave him pause, distracted him enough for Daiki to push him towards the door. Atsumu left, though the loud slam of the door echoing around your room told you how unhappy he was about it. And maybe you still cared a little, still wanted to hear Atsumu tell you that he loved you. But, right now, with Daiki in front of you, a concerned look on his face, you couldn't bring yourself to focus on Atsumu too much. With the smallest amount of hope, you pressed your lips to Daiki's, praying that Atsumu's part in your life had finally drawn to a close.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu miya #atsumu smut #sequel to only fools fall for you #atsumu x you #playboy atsumu

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stray-kids-react · 4 years ago

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Farting for the first time

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° Chan was pretty tipsy after a night out with you, every single thing you did could make him burst into a long fit of giggles. While he was giggling the night away, the food you had earlier wasn't agreeing with you too well.

° You nearly vomited over Han while he helped you and Chan into the car. He noticed how sick you looked and passed you a small trashcan for emergencies. Half way home Chan was passed out and you vomited twice.

° That was the last thing you remembered before waking up with a very strong hangover, your boyfriend sound asleep in your arms. You tried to go back to sleep, not wanting to disturb Chan from his slumber.

° But he stirred awake, groaning into your chest as he began to regret that drinks last night. Chan noticed how much worse you seemed to feel, all of the color from your face leaving by each passing minute.

° He rushed to the kitchen, getting two cups of water with some pain killers. The moment he opened the door to pass you the water, he heard a small noise come from under the blankets. Chan couldn't help but giggle.

"Here's your *giggle* pain killers."

"Give me a break Chris, I feel like dog shit."

Lee Know

(He's so fricking attractive istg)

° You were very sleep deprived, which made you very giddy and childish. Your job required a lot of work which made it hard for you to get any breaks or rest in general. This worried Minho from the start.

° Even though he found it cute when you became giddy and childish, it was bittersweet knowing why you were acting this way. He's only seen small amounts of how you act when tired, due to his schedule.

° But he had one week off to rest up for Kingdom, so he spent it at home with his precious fur babies and you. You came home at nine with dark circles under your eyes, and small giglles escaping your lips.

° Minho sighed, laying you down on his lap while petting your hair. He felt your racing heart beat slowly normalize, but you seemed to get a bit too comfortable when you let out a long slightly hushed toot.

° He would've teased you for it if it weren't for the fact that you were in a deep slumber. Minho tried to stop his laughs from waking you, but it was clearly not working by the way your body kept shifting on his lap.

"Goodnight baby."

"Goodnight, and please warn me next time."

Changbin

° You and Changbin were best friends before you started dating, and some of your traditions made its way into your relationship. Such as the yearly prank week, where chaos would possess both of you.

° Changbin made the first move by waking you up with a police siren app, and then getting Felix to act like a cop and 'arrest' you. But you both knew you always came back at him two times harder than he did previously.

° You replaced his meditation playlist with heavy metal, and then put hot pink hair color into his hair products. Changbin rocked the hair, but was still bitter with how clever and devious you were getting with the pranks.

° When he walked out with a pissed off expression and soapy pink hair, you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. Which led to accidently letting out a loud fart. Making his serious tone completely fade.

° You were both on the floor laughing until it hurt, these were the moments both of you cherished the most. Where you made each other completely forget about the stresses in life by making each other smile and laugh.

"I love you prince bubblegum."

"I love you too trash ass."

Hyunjin

° You and Hyunjin have been dating for three years, both of you became dependent of one another and are completely comfortable with each other. Which leads to many chaotic but sweet moments.

° Hyunjin had a hard few weeks and needed you, whether it be a cuddle session, make out session, movie night, or sex. Hyunjin just wanted to be in your presence for the next few days and wanted no one else around.

° Hyunjin was laying his head on your chest as he scrolled through his phone, Kkami laid on your legs making it so you didn't want to move even if you had to. But as time went by your stomach became bubbly and whined.

° You thought you could be silent, but the release of air was loud and short. It scared Kkami away leaving, Hyunjin in tears from laughing so hard. Mostly due to the fact that is made Kkami jump in surprise.

° You were a blushing mess while your boyfriend couldn't stop laughing or teasing you, so pulled up the covers to release the bomb you created. Hyunjin rolled off the bed dramatically with his nose tucked into his shirt.

"No! Don't release it you'll kill me!"

"Hyunjin it isn't a grenade or pot of acid."

Han

° You came down with a small bug, wanting to do nothing else but stay in bed and try to get better. You notified Jisung knowing he'd be worried when you didn't show up to meet him during lunch.

° You were surprised to hear your door bell ringing rapidly, but that was just sign that Hyunjin was at your door. He was the only member who rang it that rapidly, just to surprise and startle you a bit.

° You shouted that the door was unlocked, not wanting to leave your blanket cacoon. You heard many more voices than you were expecting, eight different voices to be specific. One fo which was your boyfriend.

° Jisung joined your blanket cacoon, gently pecking your face as a soft greeting. The rest of the members worked on some lunch for everyone while the rest chatted amongst themselves on the opposite couch.

° You let our the smallest toot possible, but Jisung noticed due to the fact that you were sitting on his lap. You looked back at him as if you were implying that he was the one who did it instead, he just laughed.

"Don't even try to blame that one me."

"But it wasn't me Hannie~"

Felix

° Felix loved how comfortable you were around him now, especially since you were so reserved and cold when he first met you. But now he could see how much of an adorable weirdo you truly were.

° You thought you could win a tickle fight with your boyfriend, seeing as you know all of his weak spots. But he over powered you after a few minutes, hovering over you as his fingers gently dug into your sides.

° You warned him to stop as tears were welling in your eyes from laughing so hard. You let out a noticeable fart, which panicked you in an instant. Your whole body heating up and your heart rate increased quickly.

° You were about to apologize when his lips melted into yours. You could feel his smile against your lips, a reassurance to your nervous thoughts. Felix chuckled softly once your lips were disconnected, eyes sparkling.

° You felt somewhat stupid for being self conscious over something everyone does. But you knew that feeling stupid would only cause a reassurance rant from your angelic boyfriend, becoming your positivity.

"I needed that kiss. May I have one more?"

"You never need to ask."

Seungmin

° You were watching a horror movie with your boyfriend, which he has been wanting to see for quite sometime now. You didn't want to disappoint him so you sucked it up and watched the genre you can't handle.

° You hid behind your bowl of popcorn, the anticipation of the jumpscares becoming too much to handle. Seungmin was focused onto the movie, barely wincing when the jumpscare finally arrived.

° He didn't notice your shaking figure until you accidently let rip to one. It was a near silent scene which led to Seungmin's attention focusing towards you. He immediately paused the movie.

° His warm comfort brought ease to your terrified and tense body. You felt bad for not telling him how you truly felt about the movie, but it seemed that he wasn't the tiniest bit upset about the situation.

° Seungmin ignored the fact that you let one rip, instead focusing on the fact that you were petrified by the movie. He felt terrible for not noticing your scared state earlier and putting the movie on in general.

"I'm sorry I should've told you how I felt."

"Don't worry, it wasn't that good anyways."

Jeongin

° You just woke up from a nightmare, it was early in the morning and your boyfriend was currently getting dressed beside the bed. Your breathing slowed down casually, knowing you were safe and it wasn't real.

° You didn't even realize you passed gas until Jeongin turned around giggling slightly, his eyes silently judging you in a teasing manner. Your relationship was always filled with teasing, it is a very playful relationship.

° He grabbed a can of spray on deodorant and filled the room with the scent. His hoodie covering his nose as he hurriedly slid the windows open, you couldn't help but laugh dryly at his dramatic manner.

° You threatened to pull him under the covers, but he continued to escape your grasp while you both laughed up a storm. He patted the blankets gently, trying to get the scent out of them even if there wasn't any.

° Once you both settled down and the grogginess of the morning kicked in, you pulled Jeongin in for some morning cuddles. Not wanting to get out of bed, especially when he felt extra comfy in his hoodie.

"I don't want to start the day~"

"I promise you cuddles when you get back."

#stray kids #kpop #changbin #skz scenarios #stray kids reactions #han jisung #hyunjin #jeongin #lee know #bang chan #felix stray kids #skz seungmin #skz reactions #skz requests #skz crack

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years ago

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02. bang chan / 3883 words

dom!chan who is both hard and soft, a tinge of fluff, daddy kink, a little size kink + corruption kink, oral (m receiving), the smallest amount of cumplay at the end, female reader

a/n: i am probably going to write a part two for this.

chan stopped seeing you as a younger sibling sometime ago.

you used to just be minho's little sister. the girl who occasionally appeared in the living room when he had sleepovers at the house, the girl he only talked to when it was under minho's presence, the girl he never felt any form of sexual attraction towards.

but then times changed. he grew older, taller, and bigger while you... well, you definitely did grow older. not so much taller, though. it felt as if only him and minho managed to sprout some height after puberty while yours went completely neglected in your genes. and definitely not bigger—actually, yes. some part of you grew bigger, in a very arousing and distracting way if chan could admit. but you were still quite small compared to his much broader shoulders.

chan never thought too much of it. he had made too many petty jokes about you staying as small and weak as a midget for years, his mindset was stuck at that childish thought. it was only until christmas gathering last year when he joined your family for the holiday did he finally realize how much more attractive you have grown.

you have always been pretty. chan would not expect anything less as you are lee minho's little sister, and minho was one hell of a good-looking man. the big doe eyes with the perfect nose bridge, and of course pretty pink lips that makes a pretty smile—you were always pretty. chan never verbally acknowledged it but he never verbally denied it either.

over time, your beauty has matured. you innocent eyes learned how to act tough in front of strangers and your pretty smile knew to come to the rescue in awkward situation. you have grown to learn how to benefit yourself in a society that, unfortunately, ran on a system that relied heavily on appearances.

but chan hasn't seen your tactics be used on him before. when he arrived at your house last year, you looked at him the same way you had always looked at him—a little distant but still with faint fondness, a gaze that screamed friendly and comfortable.

in terms of expressions and attitude, you were small when it came to him. and something about that special treatment (which wasn't exactly special) made his insides churn.

what made it even worse was the night of christmas dinner, when you three decided to sit down in his room to hang out while the adults gathered in the living room to chat the night away.

you had stolen minho's hoodie, that chan knew because it was one size too big on minho and therefore two sizes too big on you. you wore a pair of polyester shorts that only faintly peeked out the hem of the cuddly hoodie, and your tiny feet was covered by a pair of ugly, green fuzzy socks.

but what stung him the most was how careless you acted around him, as if he was your brother as well.

you had been eating chips at that time, happily smacking your lips away as you ate up the family portioned chip bag on your own. and chan could not care less about you never sharing the snacks at that time. he just knew you were sucking on your fingers a little too hard and moaning at the taste a little too loudly for him to concentrate on his phone.

and the way your legs flaunted around on minho's bed as you munched on the food, spreading them in a comfortable position but not spreading enough for him to catch a glimpse into the gaps of your shorts. and you looked so small with your legs thrown over the pile of dirty laundry on the edge of your brother's bed, your back against the mattress and your breasts perking up at the cursed angle.

chan was going insane, he had to snap his head away when minho threw a random pillow at you, scolding you to sit up properly.

he was told—threatened—later by minho to stop having perverted ideas about you. but chan didn't listen, obviously. for the rest of that night, all he had thought about was shoving his fingers down your throat and fucking you in your brother's hoodie. he could imagine all the ways you would whimper and moan under his weight when he's got your legs thrown over his shoulder, and the thought alone made his chest burn.

chan was unable to see you the same, platonic way ever again since that christmas.

"bang chan!"

your irritated voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he quickly looked away from the dark corner he was staring at. you were frowning at him by the television set, your hands rested in a box of movie cds.

chan's eyes casually scanned your figure, as if it wasn't all he thought about after you walked downstairs, drowned that oversized shirt and pajama shorts he took a generous peek at as your shirt rode up your ass upon you reaching upward.

"yeah, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up from the couch and leaning his elbows on his knees to look at you with an arched brow.

you felt slightly intimidated by his change of stance; he was just sulking at the corner of the sofa looking exhausted and small, how did he manage to change his aura with just a change of position?

and his duality was always so damn hot to you for some reason! the way he could smile at you one second and glare at an uncomfortable stranger the next was none other than seducing.

"are you kidding me–do you want to watch a movie or not, chan?" you asked as you pulled your hands out of the box, preparing to put it back into the shelf and let it gather dust there until the next holiday when minho didn't get called up to spend the night with his girlfriend instead. "i am actually okay with just being on our phones, we don't have to watch a movie."

chan blinked at you, surprised by your fed-up tone even though he had done nothing but sit on the couch after dinner. perhaps you were mad at minho for ditching you both? but why would you be mad about that unless you didn't want to spend alone time with him? maybe you just had an argument with your parents, that was why you felt extra grumpy.

as chan drowned in his thoughts and assumptions, he had not realized you plopping down on the couch across from him. you breathed out a heavy sigh as you unlocked your phone, sliding against the cushion and throwing your extended legs on top of his lap.

oh, there you were with the carelessness again. twisting your legs and only barely brushing across his groin each time you swung your feet his way. and if he saw clearly, you weren't wearing a bra as well, you little brat.

chan glanced down at your bare feet then, and something about your slim ankles in comparison to his much bigger hand fueled the hotness in his abdomen. he could just grab them and pull you to him, spreading your legs wide for him. and what could you do? he was so much stronger than you.

manhandling you would be both an effortless and pleasurable experience.

you huffed out a sigh, distracting him once again. he turned to find you frowning at the ceiling, your arm dangling to the side with your phone gripped tightly in your hand.

chan gulped down his lustful mind and asked, hoping to start a normal conversation. "you've been acting grumpy all day. what happened to you, hmm?"

you peered down at him, your chest heaving and, unbeknownst to you, nipples protruding through the thin fabric of your shirt. "i met this guy on campus last month. he was helping out with some fraternity shit and i was walking past, and then he stopped me to get my number," you said. "we have been texting a lot, and recently he asked me out. we planned to hang out sometime this week, actually, since it is the holiday and all."

chan furrowed his brows. the word fraternity definitely did not stick well with him and he had not taken you for someone who would be obsessed over attractive and irresponsible frat boys. turning to you, he asked, "is it not working out?"

you groaned under your breath. "no, it is for now," you muttered, glancing to the side shyly when you realized what you were about to say. "it's just... i'm not sure if it will be fine after the date."

"why?" he pressed on, finding the reddening of your cheeks very amusing.

"it's just... he said he is going to make a move on me and he told me to prepare for it..." you replied quietly, finding the once arousing words to be sappy and cringey once you repeated them. "but i have never had... i've–i haven't done anything before, like i don't even know the first thing about sucking someone off."

chan clenched his jaw. he was just slightly angered at the idea that some stupid boy would have the privilege of having your mouth wrapped around his useless dick when all he has ever gotten were temptations and imaginations. your big, innocent eyes looking up at him in confirmation and waiting for him to guide you through it all—fuck, he could cum just thinking about it.

"i can teach you," he suddenly suggested, shooting his shot and taking his chances. he looked over at you, eyes burning holes at your head. "if you want to, i can teach you. right here, right now."

his voice went an octave lower, the metallic hotness of it sending shivers down your spine. how would you fend if he whispered next to your ear, just inches apart with his hot breath blowing against your skin? you squeezed your thighs together at the thought, knowing very well he noticed how squirmish you were becoming because his was smirking with a devil laced on his lips.

"h–how?" you stuttered out.

chan poked his tongue to the corner of his lips. what a desperate bitch, you were willing to suck another man's dick to make sure the real deal would be mind-blowing. something about that was thrilling to him, the fact that he was the first one to take it from you instead of that ill-promising boy in your phone.

"on the floor, kneel," he beckoned you to him by pointing at the space before him.

you quickly dropped onto the ground and scurried over to kneel between his legs, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him move his sweats down by a little. his cock sprung out upon release, standing long and thick against his tummy due to how hard he was. you bit back a gasp but your widened eyes told him everything, and your fascination only fueled his dominance impeccably.

fuck, you looked so breakable like this.

"i'm sure you have seen a dick before so i am going to spare you the details," he said as he gave his dick a few pumps. then, he leaned forward slightly and grabbed you by your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

his eyes grew soft for a moment and he rubbed his fingers at your skin comfortingly. "you can stop this anytime you want, okay, (name)?" he said, smiling faintly at you.

you sent him a timid nod, your lips pursed adorably and your eyes sparkling up at him. frankly, you were too occupied with lusting over thing massive thing in front of your face for you to really process your thoughts, but what does it matter?

if you were thinking about it so much then you knew you wanted it.

upon your agreement, chan's eyes switched to something different. they were cold now, hooded with a sea storm of lust, overwhelmingly icy yet he seemed to be melting at the sight of you succumbing to hits authority. it was a gaze that made you feel both inferior but anticipated somehow.

"you're gonna suck me off well, baby girl?" he asked, but it sounded more like a demand. it sounded as if he expects nothing less than worshipping his cock from you, that you will suck him off good because that was all you're here for.

"i... i don't know how..." you muttered.

chan exhaled through his nose, his lips still quirked up. he gripped your chin just a tad bit tighter, causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

"don't worry, you will get to hang of it," he mused before lowering his voice. "but daddy's gonna need you to speak a little louder than that next time, got it?"

a blush crept up your cheeks, the heat in your core magnifying when chan just manifested a guilty pleasure of yours in real life. you have only heard it in porn and read it in fanfiction, perhaps you also did imagine yourself saying it once or twice in a sexual context, but imagination could never be associated with the truth. what if you sounded awkward saying it? that would be horrible.

"baby girl?" chan tugged at your chin, faint impatience laced in his voice as he peered down at your. "were you daydreaming?"

"no, daddy–" you clamped your mouth shut at how easy the word flew out of your lips.

chan held back a groan. how perfect you were, calling him such an endearment that has been tainted with filth. he would not wait to hear you gag around his cock, your voice unable to punch out any words because your mouth was stuffed.

"well? do you want to start now or do i have to tell you to lick?" he gave you a welcoming gesture, leaning back against the couch and waiting.

you gulped down a nervous breath and reached out tentatively to grab his dick in your hands. it was hard, with a surprisingly soft but veiny surface. bringing it over to your lips whilst leaning in, you let the tip stop at the entrance of your mouth and you looked up at chan, as if asking for permission.

"go on," he urged you. "try and make daddy feel good."

he said that like it would be a challenge for you, but he had lost from the start when you agreed to do this. a hiss left his lips when you experimented with licking his tip. and when you realize it was not as rough as you thought it would feel, you continued with it, your tongue pressing flat against the surface as you dragged it down and around the sensitive bub.

this was a different kind of sexy. chan has been used to sloppy and fast blowjobs all his life because the few people he had had sex with were all much more experienced than you were. they were good, he had to admit, they had been good.

but you—oh, you. you were just especially and irresistibly hot. there was something about the way you kneeled in front of him, your careful hands wrapped around the base of his cock like a bottle too big for your hands to hold as your tongue flicked along his tip and his shaft with calculations, aiming to do nothing but pleasure him.

you were slow and sensual with it due to how uncertain you were with what to do. and god, was that painfully seductive. the way you were taking your sweet time giving his cock your undivided attention, forcing him to feel everything and ink down all of your movements in his head—the hotness of your tongue as you curved around his shape, the infuriating fire he felt when your tongue traced up his veins and leave once you were close to his tip, the egoistic dominance you were making him feel when you looked up at him with those big, obedient eyes.

it was like you couldn't live without his validation. and you were willing to sit in front of him for hours with his dick in your mouth, pleasuring him just to get a hint of approval. and it kept reminding him that he was in charge here, that you have to wait for him to tell you what to do and when to do it.

when you were finally getting a bit braver, watching the way chan bit his lips and how his chest heaved, you decided to hollow your cheeks to suck at him for the first time.

and chan groaned—a borderline growl—when you took more of him in your mouth to pull at his dick, your tongue stuck over your bottom lip and flapping against his shaft. as you released him from your mouth, you pressed a tight kiss to his tip and spit your saliva down to make it look like cum, then you lathered his length with the filthy wetness, still sucking on him like you would a popsicle or a lollipop.

and god, he was trying too hard. he was trying so damn hard not to grab you by your hair and just fuck your throat like a fleslight. he still wanted to give you the chance to do whatever felt comes to mind, and so far you have really been doing phenomenal things to him.

"fuck, baby girl," he grumbled through clenched teeth, feeling pleasure override his senses. "that was good, keep doing that."

your eyes lit up at the compliment, a mini giggle falling out your lips and sending vibration down his skin. chan moaned at the feeling as you went just a tad bit faster in your repetition, mixing the rough sucks with baby licks and creating a symphonic contrast that soon pushed him close to the edge.

the knot at his swollen tip was building and chan could not resist anymore. he needed you to go at his pace, something faster and rougher. with a groan, he let his hands move the back of your head before he pushed you down on his cock, a breathy moan leaving him when you squealed in surprise.

you could not breathe, his length was too big for your little mouth. the feeling of his tip touching your throat was overwhelmingly unsatisfactory, but somewhere deep within you, you knew you wanted it. because chan's voice has never sounded better all breathy and feral like this, and it was all because you put your stupid mouth to good use for once.

your hands gripped his flexed thighs in support while chan, for a second, forgot you were a breathing human being and just snapped his hips up at you like you could take it all with no trouble. he was going fast, pushing your head down and thrusting up to meet your throat while he threw his head back at the heavenly vibration you sent him through letting out struggling noises.

fuck, your mouth felt so good. the feeling stuck at the tip of his cock released when a certain suck pushed him over the edge and burst his control. he shot his heavy load down your throat and coating up your inner cheeks before pushing your head away with a pop and slumping against the couch.

his chest was panting, you could see. and when he peered down at you, he arched a brow and smirked at you.

you waited from him to regain his energy. when he did, he leaned forward to your face and hummed in thoughts, as if accessing what other ways he could possibly wreck you up. you widened your eyes when he reached out to touch his thumb to your lips, his fingers tilting your chin up to face him.

"open up," he ordered, and you did with your tongue sticking out slightly for show. he almost laughed; you learned that from watching porn, didn't you?

his cum was still on your tongue, he wondered if you were reluctant to swallow them. he could deal with you not doing that, you have already given him such a mind-blowing blowjob despite it being your first time. however, even then, he still wanted to see something he had always wanted to try.

reaching his thumb into your mouth, he gathered up some of his cum and slowly, plastered them over your lips like he was applying your lipstick. when he was done, he let his thumb stay in your mouth and he gestured to you.

knowing what he was asking for, you first grazed your teeth over his skin before you sucked on it like a binky. his cum smacked together and left trails all over his hand and your lips, messy but so fucking hot at the same time.

and then he pulled out of you, removing his hand and going back to himself. he stared at you for a moment, once again contemplating. and when he reached over for you again, instead of another round of shoving and pulling, his hand moved to the back of your head and he rubbed the spot he just yanked at. then he gave your head a gentle pat.

he smiled at you softly. "you did so great, baby girl."

you wanted to smile at his compliment, but something about him speaking as if this was the end of it made disappointment settle in your chest. chan could sense your dismay through the pout, and his heart jumped slightly at the knowledge that you might want more than just sucking him off.

"why are you pouting, hmm?" he asked then, squeezing your cheek and looking directly at you. "do you want daddy to do something?"

his finger was trailing an alluring line down your cheek and your neck now. he knew what he was doing, and you knew you had to be the one to say it in order for him to keep going down to where you wanted him the most, the heated pool right between your legs.

"yes, please," you said, still shy about doing a minimal amount of dirty talk.

"hmm?" he raised his brows in amusement. "what is it that you want me to do, baby girl?"

oh, there were so many things you wanted him to do to you. but one of which took up the most space in your desires was to have him fuck you raw and open on whatever surface he so pleases. you would give anything to feel him inside of you.

"i..." you sucked in a breath, your cheeks reddening uncontrollably at the thought of having to verbalize your filthy fantasies. "i–i want daddy to make me feel good."

chan smirked, his finger that is was once trailing down your neck finally made its way to the center. his hand palmed over the area of your collarbones before he raised the position of his hand a little. he squeezed the base of your neck, loving the bobbing of the breathy throat.

oh, you pretty, little thing.

he's gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember the boy who made you do this in the first place.

#skz smut #skz dark hours #stray kids dark hours #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut

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writingletterstothefire · 4 years ago

Text

hopeful silence

A/N: This fic has taken me a week to write and it’s only 3.1k words. Ugh. But anyway, this is based on a dream I had where I was an undercover DEA agent and Javi found me and stuff ensued. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future work! I don’t have a taglist just yet, but if there��s enough interest, I’ll make one! Enjoy!

This mission fucking sucked. Why did you agree to this? Yes, it was part of your job description. Yes, you were one of the more talented undercover agents. You liked to thank your background in the high school drama club for those specific talents.

But, shit, this mission sucked. Peña had heard through one of his informants that one of Escobar’s most infamous sicarios would be at this brothel, and someone needed to get on the inside. Unfortunately, Peña being Peña, had to go “meet an informant” immediately after delivering this information, so he was no help in the planning of the mission. With Peña clearly out, all eyes turned to you. You tried to put up a fight, you really did, but as the only female agent in the DEA, your protests meant very little. Trujillo, the bastard, had suggested you go in, under the guise of being a prostitute, and get close enough to be sure the sicario locked eyes on you. From there, you’d lure him into one of the private rooms in the back, where Carillo and his agents would be waiting to take him down and keep you out of harm’s way.

So that’s how you ended up here, in a packed brothel, tugging at your too-short, too-tight, lime green dress and trying not to muss your hair or makeup too much. You felt ridiculous, like a child playing dress up. Your ridiculously high heels were already killing you, as you smiled and chatted with the other girls. As far as they knew, you were new to the area, on the run from an abusive boyfriend, and had a small baby to provide for. Prostitutes with children were extraordinarily common in Medellín, so the girls immediately developed a soft spot for you. They were in the middle of telling you all of the secrets about how to get repeat costumers, when you felt a hand on your waist. It took everything you had in you to not immediately twist the offender’s arm back. Instead, you forced your most dazzling smile onto your face, and turned, ready to pretend to be interested in whatever sleaze had his grubby hands on you, when you got a shock to your system.

Peña. Peña was currently pulling you close by your waist, a half-hearted smirk on his face, but his eyes a mixture of concern and fear. He was pulling you close to look like he was just another paying customer, checking out the new goods.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He whispered roughly into your ear. You did your best to not let show how caught off guard you were, in case anyone was looking, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling as if he said something flirtatious.

“Working, cabrón,” you whispered back.

“So, what? You’re a hooker on the side? DEA not paying you enough?” You felt his hands start to wander up your back, and then suddenly going down, down, down. He was enjoying this too much.

“I wouldn’t fuckin’ be here, had someone not run out to meet an informant before we had a chance to come up with a game plan. I’m here to help Carillo get the sicario. And watch your fucking hands, Peña, before I break character and put your ass in the hospital,” you hissed into his ear.

“You’re what?!” He pulled back, alarming some of the girls around you. He quickly played it off, yanking you closer, and turning so that you were pressed between him and the bar. “Absolutely not. What the fuck were you thinking, putting yourself out there like that? This guy will kill you if he finds out you’re DEA. No. You’re leaving, you’ll pretend you’re coming home with me and we’re getting out of here.”

“You don’t get to have an opinion on the game plan right now, Peña,” You ground out through gritted teeth, tugging him closer by his shirt. You were trying to play along despite your growing irritation. Speaking of growing—

“Are you really getting a boner right now?!” You whispered harshly, glaring up at him. He just smirked in response, his frustration momentarily forgotten. “You’re fucking impossible, Peña.”

The brothel door opened, and you froze, peering over Javier’s shoulder. Sure enough, the sicario strutted in with two other men flanking him. He had dark, slicked back hair and skin the color of café con leche. His green and blue floral patterned shirt had the top three buttons undone, and tucked into his tight, black jeans that sat low on his hips. You felt your mouth dry up as his piercing green eyes scanned the room. Fuck, if he wasn’t a sicario…

Javier snapped his fingers in front of your face, an irritated look in his eyes. “Where the fuck is your head at, muñeca?” He looked between your awestruck expression and the sicario. “Oh, fuck no. You’re not doing this.”

Your attention snapped back to him, angrier than it was before. “You don’t get to make that call, Peña.”

He tugged you closer, whispering in your ear. “Don’t. Blow. Your. Cover.” He was right. If you got too angry with him, your cover of prostitute and customer would be revealed to everyone in the building. You begrudgingly ran your hands up under his jacket slowly, feeling every ripple of muscle in his defined back through his thin shirt. “Good girl.” You tried to ignore the ripple of pleasure you got from hearing those words come from his mouth. “Now listen to me. You can’t handle that sicario. I saw it on your face, you’re already to attracted to him.”

“I’ll be fine, Javi. I can do this, I just need to get him to the back where Carillo is—”

“Would you let him fuck you?” The question was asked so bluntly, it caught you off-guard.

“I-I…”

“If he asked nicely, would you let him go down on you?” Javi’s hands slowly slipped down your back. “Or would you want him to take you without asking? Grab you and use you until there was nothing left for him to take?”

Your breathing was getting heavier and heavier, a high pitched whine escaping your throat as you felt him squeeze at your ass. You felt his mouth on your neck, hot and wet, leaving open kisses in between sucking and nipping at the soft flesh. Your mission forgotten as you pressed closer, you whimpered out, “J-Javi…”

You felt him smirk against your neck, his mustache tickling you as he moved. His hands kneading at your ass had you weak in the knees. You were putty in his hands, and he knew it.

You had never told anyone about your crush on Javi. You knew his reputation, knew he wasn’t the type to settle down. You admired him from afar, keeping enough distance to keep your crush under control, while staying close enough that no one would think anything was off. You were acquaintances. Co-workers. Nothing more, nothing less. But now, with one hand on your ass and one hand making its way to tangle in your hair, and his mouth on your neck, you were sure you’d never recover again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, princesa. Would you let him fuck you?” Each word in his question was punctuated by a firm nip to the flesh of your jaw or your earlobe.

“N-No, Javi…” It was a lie. Or at least, it would have been a lie the first time he’d asked you. But now, the way he was all over you, all you could think was Javi, Javi, Javi!

He growled in your ear, violently pulling you so that your legs opened enough for him to press his crotch to yours. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how much I want you? I want to rip this stupid fucking tight ass dress off of you. Wanna take you to the back rooms and fucking destroy you, princesa. Make you scream loud enough for that fucking sicario to hear, and Carillo and his men to hear. Make sure everyone knows who’s fucking you so good.”

You gasped, grinding against him, momentarily forgetting that you were in public. “Javi, please!” You whined. “Please take me to the back, fuck--!”

You were near tears as he pulled away from you. He looked as ragged as you felt, pupils blown wide, and chest heaving. He used the hand still tangled in your hair to pull your face close to his. “You’re gonna bring that fucking sicario to the back, and then you’re going to come home with me. Everywhere that fucker touches you, you’re gonna feel me for a fucking week.”

You nodded, whimpering as his hands left your hair, heart fluttering at the way he smoothed it down and wiped some stray lipstick away at the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t wait for this mission to be over.

It took about a half hour of giggling and flirting, but eventually you were able to get the sicario, who was suddenly not nearly as handsome as you initially thought, into the back rooms. He was rough. Too rough for your tastes, but maybe that’s because you knew that his hands were calloused in the wrong places, and had held guns that fired at the people you worked with. The sicario pushed you onto one of the brothel’s hard, uncomfortable beds, and you fought to keep a seductive smile on your face as he crawled over you. After a few moments of kissing and fondling, Carillo and his men burst in just as the sicario was about to rip your dress off. You watched as they took him down, and ignored the Spanish curses he hurled at you. They held no weight for you, considering Carillo was going to off him once they extracted the information they needed from him. The fucker did manage to get a swing in once he’d realized you were in on the bust, and you now had blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, along with what you were sure was going to be an awful bruise on your cheek.

You looked up as the last of the men left the room, and your eyes met Javi’s dark gaze. He beckoned you forward, to which you complied. You couldn’t deny him if you wanted to. He cupped your jaw gently, examining your cheek. His gentle touch was a stark contrast to the way the sicario had handled you. You recalled Javi’s promise to replace the sicario’s touch with his own, and you suddenly felt dirty. You needed Javi to make you clean again. As if he could read your mind, Javi silently guided you out with a hand on your back, and led you to his Jeep, parked at the curb across the street from the brothel. You got in without a word, and watched him as he started the Jeep, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

No words were spoken the entire ride to the apartment complex, and the silence followed you into Javi’s apartment. He brought you into the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the tub. He grabbed a washcloth, running it under warm water to dampen it. He cupped your jaw the same way he did at the brothel, possibly even gentler. As he wiped the blood from your lip, you had the realization that he was also wiping half of your makeup away. You blushed, and went to say something to stop him, but he just pressed his thumb to your lips, shaking his head slightly. The message was heard loud and clear. Don’t worry. He continued wiping the thick makeup away from your cheeks, moving to your forehead, nose, and then ever so gently, your eyes.

When he was finished cleaning your face, he left the washcloth on the sink, and led you to the bedroom. You expected him to jump on you, but he simply sat you on the bed, slipped your heels off of your sore, sore feet, and dug around in his dresser. He pulled out an old shirt and some boxers, laying them on the bed for you. The fragile silence, a silence that had been full of unspoken, yet understood words, was finally broken.

“Shower. Take as long as you need. You can change into this when you’re done.” He cupped your jaw gently again, gazing down at you before pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He stayed with his lips pressed to your head for a few seconds, before slowly walking out of the room.

You stayed frozen for a few moments, before gathering enough strength to move into the bathroom and shower, letting the water rinse the filth of the sicario off of you. You rinsed out your hair, using the shampoo Javi had on a shelf. A scent that was inexplicably Javi surrounded you. It calmed the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of your stomach in the moments between entering the back room of the brothel and Carillo’s men bursting through the door. You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too hard about it while it was happening, but there was an overwhelming fear of what could have happened if they had taken too long to get into that room. You quickly shut off the water before you could slip back into the mindset of those moments.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in Javi’s clothes, you could hear Javi moving around the kitchen. You walked out to see two sandwiches sitting on the counter, and Javi popping the caps off two beer bottles. It was an oddly domestic sight. You wondered if he made sandwiches for every girl he was about to sleep with. You hopped up onto the counter, and Javi turned to you, eyes scanning over your body in his clothes. His lips quirked up in what was the closest thing to a smile you’d seen since before you approached the sicario.

He slid a plate towards you, and stood next to you as you both munched on your sandwiches. Javi finished before you, moving to stand between your legs as you finished. He didn’t touch you, but it was enough proximity to have you scarfing down the rest of your sandwich and pushing the plate aside. As soon as the plate was off your lap, his hands were on you, pulling you right to the edge of the counter. His lips were on yours before you could register what was happening, but you tangled your fingers in his hair the second you recovered. You tried to deepen the kiss, but each time you inched forward, Javi inched back. He was keeping the kiss soft, you realized.

In fact, everything was soft. From the way he gently helped you off the counter and led you to his bedroom, to the way he peeled your shirt off of your body. With every touch, his eyes met yours, searching for permission. That fragile silence was back, but this time it held a different weight. It became clear to you that Javi was doing everything he could to contrast the way the sicario had been touching you. While he’d promised to be even rougher earlier, you both knew that you needed something else now. You needed soft.

The way Javi seemed to know what you needed was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You were quick to reassure him when he froze after seeing your tears, kissing him and softly stroking his hair. You tried to communicate with your eyes, nodding at him, to keep the silence. He nodded back slowly, returning his lips and hands to your body.

Eventually, the silence was broken with the sounds of skin on skin, breathy moans, and the soft calling of each other’s names. When you climaxed, it was with the song of Javi, Javi, Javi on your lips.

When it was over, you waited for him to finish his cigarette before sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You had never, in all the years you’d known him, heard Javi sound so broken. You looked back at him, confused. His eyebrows were drawn together, and one hand was outstretched as if to grab you, but he held it back as to not invade your space.

“I-I thought…” Your eyebrows drew together to match his. “Isn’t this where you kick me out? I…um, I usually hear the girls leave after…”

Javi visibly winced at the mention of you hearing other women leave his apartment. Your apartments were across the hall from each other, and you knew he forgot how thin the walls were. Although, you had to admit that the sounds of women in Javi’s apartment had grown few and far between over the last few months.

“I didn’t…You have to know that those women…They were…” Javi was struggling. He’d never done this before, that much was obvious, but you needed to know what he was going to say. You gently took his still outstretched hand, nodding for him to continue. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Those women were informants or prostitutes. They didn’t mean anything to me. They were there for… information or stress relief. None of them were…were you.”

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening for a second. “So…you’re saying…?”

You didn’t want to get your hopes too high before. You didn’t want to give him the power to send you tumbling to the ground. But now, what he was saying was unmistakable. You just needed to hear him say it.

“I love you,” he breathed out, “and that’s fucking terrifying to me. But I love you. And I want you to stay, if you will.”

You released a long breath, before sliding your body back to its original position, pressed to his side. You looked up at him, gently cradling his jaw the way he’d done to you so many times that night.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered, thumb stroking along his cheek. “I love you, Javi. I’ll stay as many nights as you’ll let me.”

Javi’s hands rose to rest on your cheeks. “Every night, mi amor. I want you to stay every night.”

With that, your lips met. You allowed yourselves to slowly explore each other’s mouths and bodies for a second time that night. The silence that surrounded you now was not the same fragile one that had followed you that night—it was a perfect, light, hopeful silence. There was nothing left to be unspoken between you two. You had tonight and every night after that to tell each other everything there was to say.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing

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love-amihan · 4 years ago

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FIRST IMPRESSIONS // MIMI'S FAVES

amihan's note: this is just self-indulge i can't get enough of them 😭 i got this random idea wherein i showed my mom + friends the following pictures of my faves and what are their first impressions. i may also include some first meeting w/ my mom scenarios and more of what i think they will interpret them as. modern au of course, happy reading!

lil side note: my friend questioned me after sending all these pics, she was like "mimi u do realize these r lines" but ma'am u don't understand they r attractive lines!

info; aunt is what u call ur close friend's mother. mano is a sign of respect/greeting to elderly wherein you take their hand and bring it to your forehead i honestly don't know how to explain it

✨ jjk masterlist ✨

self insert, it's mimi x her faves!

-gojo satoru

mom said he reminds her of someone from slam dunk because of the art style, kinda brings back memories for her

most likely to be part of a cult

++ will invite u to join (i swear my friends r something)

yandere vibes

as i quote from my friend "cross my fingers, hope to die"

he will get along with my group of friends i swear

ngl, i'm 100% sure that gojo flirted with one of my friend before

gojo and mimi are gonna meet her group of friends for the first time, "shit" he curses under his breath, mimi turns her head to him and slightly tilted her head to the side "what?" gojo takes a deep breath before saying it in one breath "i may or may not have flirted with one of your friends before"

mimi was about to ask him to repeat again when she heard her friend "satoru?!" gojo gave a sheepish smile "heyyyy" he slowly distances himself with mimi afraid of her "oh let me guess, you're one of the victims?" mimi excitedly pipes in while laughing, her friend laughs along with her while shrugging "you think im surprised anymore you hoe?" mimi teased patting gojo's arm

he's the type to join in on our pamper night, i just see it clearly. also my mom tolerating his childishness

mimi and her mom are having one of their pamper night after having a long week, mimi was applying the mask on her face carefully while humming a tune. gojo who just got in their house saw the bond between the two "auntieee~ i want one too!" he whined while pointing at the masks.

"come here sato" mimi's mom coos at him, clearly babying the man. mimi crosses her arms finished with her mask looking at her so-called man with a smile adoring her lips "you know i wonder sometimes if i got myself a man or a child" gojo let out a dramatic gasp "auntie she's bullying me" mimi's mom played along and playfully glare at her, mimi giggles at this "also shut up you love me~" gojo added.

-okkotsu yuta

that guy who laughs at uncertain situations (if u only know what he's really like ✋)

class clown

softboi (yes he is ma'am!)

happy go lucky

lowkey yandere vibes

i feel like my friends already loves him because they were the one who introduced him

mimi and her friends are hanging out at their usual bench chatting away until one of them noticed the small group of guys passing by. "hey!" one of her friend shouted waving her hand before gesturing for them to come over.

they soon arrived where mimi and her friends are, a young boy with a sweet smile caught mimi's eyes. she gulps looking back to her friend who's introducing the group, "and he's yuta" she finishes with her arm around yuta her other hand giving his chest little pats. mimi nod to herself trying not to forget his name.

definitely met my mom before, helping her with her grocery or something. mom took a liking of him because he's kind and polite

yuta knocks on the door nervously chewing his bottom lip, mimi opened the door and smiles at him, the raven head returning it with shaky breath "come in" yuta politely comes in and to his surprise saw a familiar face "oh you're that sweet boy" mimi's mom exclaimed softly smiling as yuta gave his greeting taking her hand bringing it towards his forehead.

"you met before?" mimi chimes in looking at the two "i helped her carry her things since she's having some trouble" yuta explained his nervousness slowly fading away, mimi's mother turns to her daughter "i love him already! you're definitely marrying him" mimi's mother then welcomes yuta to their home with open arms "mom!" mimi shouted in embarrassment. yuta lets out a chuckle, relieved that he was welcomed right away.

-fushiguro megumi

cold type

major daddy vibes (all i can say is megumi's their type-)

cool aura

doesn't give a fuck type of guy

my friends probably heard of him because of me

mimi was walking around the campus together with a friend of hers, they were talking about usual school stuffs. sharing all the stress and pressure they're feeling having to be the leader of their own respective group.

mimi came to a stop when she noticed the quiet preserve guy who's walking towards the elevator hands on his pocket. after pushing the button, he cracks his neck side to side his hand soothing the crook of his neck. "let's go use the elevator" was all she said before dragging her friend.

the three walks inside the elevator without a word, mimi and her friend stayed behind as megumi stands in front of them pushing the button of his classroom's floor. mimi's friend can't help but snicker, mimi pinches her side telling her to stop.

megumi turns and gesture at the floor buttons "which floor?" his low voice making mimi's knees weak in the knees, mimi's friend was having fun seeing her friend malfunction in front of a hot guy. she giggles not wanting to embarrass her more than she did "oh we're in the same floor, it's all good"

mom likes him when i showed his pic! *cough* one of her fave *cough*

got nervous with meeting mom for the first time but soon relaxed with mom's calming and friendly nature, all in all mom still likes him

-inumaki toge

crazy type of guy

gives off the always sleeping guy

playful type

"oh wow its hot in here" seductively lowers his collars

daddy- (i- ma'am-)

bad boy!!

serious

mom said rock 'n roll but let's forget that

i'm gonna be honest, i feel like he's gonna be part of my friends, my "kapag tropa lang tropa lang rule" (basically translates to: if u're friend just stay as friends rule) will be broken just for him;

toge and mimi was known to be touchy with each other in their group of friends. toge trusts mimi more than the others, he shows this by doing simple things such as leaving his id with her if ever he goes somewhere or do something.

their friends mostly find them leaning in each other's shoulder whenever they are given a break or during their little talks. "you know i saw this new.." their friend started explaining, all of them listening. toge gets into a more comfortable spot leaning his head on mimi's shoulder busy with scrolling on his phone. once in a while showing mimi something funny or interesting.

mom will likely take time to warm up to him. toge will do his best to get on her good side, shows his charms. once he gets mom's approval there's no turning back. he gets treated like he was her own son.

toge smiles at mimi's mother sweetly, "what's your name?" as toge took her hand making mano with her (stop i dunno how to phrase it) "inumaki toge, auntie" mimi's mother let out a soft gasp, "the inumaki toge?" toge looks at the direction where mimi disappeared, a little confused by what's happening. he looks back at mimi's mother about to ask why she knows him.

"mimi won't stop talking about you!" mimi's mother informed as toge's mouth left agape, mimi who happen to get back at the right moment grumble "mom why did you tell him?!" she said through gritted teeth. mimi's mom have a sweet smile on her face faking a surprise.

"oh i wasn't suppose to? oops?" mimi grumbles more standing beside toge who now have a smug look on his face, "you talk about me huh?" he began, mimi gave him a playful shove "shut up."

-ryomen sukuna

DADDY!!

most likely to kill me

intimidating

unique looking

mom really likes him!

thinks his tattoos and aura is cool

if my friends saw a picture of him they will immediately question me

he's a snitch, i hate his snitch ass ugh

mimi's mom did not like sukuna from the picture at all, she doesn't have any problem with people who have tattoo but he got it all over him. we can say that mimi's mom is kinda looking out for the both of them because their relatives are just too traditional and doesn't like the looks of tattoos.

however, sukuna soon got her approval! how you ask? well the mf snitched without knowing. sukuna nudges mimi's side lightly, trying to start conversation "how's the piercing?" mimi's eyes widen looking at sukuna hissing, "kuna no!" mimi whisper yell at him. mimi then felt her mother's glare, "is that why you've been wearing your hair down often?"

sukuna got confused then looks at mimi's mom "care to explain?" he took this as a chance to get on her good side "yeah mimi, care to explain?" mimi looks at her significant other not believing what's happening, mimi looks back and forth between the two 'this mf a snitch' mimi thought.

mimi then explained herself blaming sukuna since he's the one who pushed to get her cartilage piercing "don't blame sukuna, you should have told me" mom defended him, mimi gasp as she looks at sukuna who's smirking at her with the 'i won' face that mimi wanna punch off his face.

a lil bg; i already told my mom b4 that i want cartilage piercing but then she got wary with the news of someone got in a coma after getting it so in the end sadly, she only allowed me to get the lobe piercings.

cover: one piece's baby 5

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #gojo satoru #okkotsu yuta #inumaki to/ge #fushiguro megumi #ryomen sukuna #jjk gojo #jjk inumaki #jjk yuta #jjk sukuna #jjk fushiguro #mimi x jjk

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agenzproject · 3 years ago

Text

Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

#submission #short story #a gen z project #1k to 5k

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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! i don’t think i’ve given you any of my weird headcanons in a hot minute so here’s a new favorite! Steve with ADHD, at first nobody notices it, he gets along well enough as a young kid people just think he has an active imagination, when in real it y he just can’t pay attention. He’s in 5th grade when his teacher pulls him out of class and tells him he needs to start paying attention, Steve almost starts crying as he tries to explain to her that he just can’t, that it doesn’t work (pt.1)

(pt.2) so the teacher tells him to stay back after class that day, he totally forgets and almost ends up leaving just further probing her suspicions. She asks him to extol in what he means, he doesn’t know what to say, says that too many things are happening for him to pay attention in class, and that sometimes if he hears another teacher he’ll end up listening to that, or if he can look out a window he’ll get distracted, and she already knows what’s going on, calls his parents for a meeting

(pt.3) So his mom comes in, his dad “could make it” but that works out for steve because his mom actually gets him tested, and his test comes back positive so he has to take meds now and sure his grades aren’t the best but they are so much better and he can actually sit in class and focus, but randomly in his sophomore year tommy finds the pills and makes fun of him and he gets so embarrassed that he just stops taking them, and his grades drop bad and he can’t focus and he feels like shit

(pt.4) he goes around like that for a while feeling lost and distracted but refusing to take his meds and be lame, he only starts taking them again after nancy breaks up with him because he needs to focus on something that isn’t the break up, but they aren’t working well which is to be expected he hasn’t taken them in more then a year, so he ends up totally freaking out and that’s how billy finds him, sitting on the bathroom floor with the WORST headache he’s ever had and he takes pity on him

(pt.5) billy and steve were kind of friends after the fight they had talked and worked things out, not super close but enough to not be so weird around each other anymore, so billy takes him home and makes sure he gets new meds and makes sure he keeps taking them and on days when he can tell steve is space and distracted and clearly forgot he’ll drive to his house and make him take them, and steve will bitch and moan but he actually loves that someone cares enough to make sure he’s ok

(optional pt.6) billy realizing he really likes steve when steve is talking about a special interest and getting super happy and he just can’t help but feel in love with him (is this totally based off my expletive with adhd? yes it is! is this the exact way my hug said she realized she love me? yes it is 🥰)

Hi! I have another one of your AMAZING headcanons in my drafts still, I’m working on it I’m sorry I’m the slowest writer ever.

So, I think I’ve said this, but ADHD makes A LOT of sense for Steve. I don’t have ADHD, so I’m sorry if this is in accurate, I did some research, didn’t want this to be like, bad.

Also, I put him on Ritalin for timing purposes and bc it can cause panic attacks. 🤷‍♀️ and his favorite animals are giraffes, goats and lobsters, 3 of my favorite animals.

Read on ao3

When Steve was little, he could never focus on something for longer than ten minutes.

He would be running through the house, leaving toys on the ground when he remembered a game he could play in another room. His nannies would roll their eyes, picking up after him.

When he got to school, it was more of the same. He would get distracted by every bird that he could see outside. He would be in the middle of class, the teacher would say something about giraffes and his mind would race about animals, would think about every country in Africa he could name, would think about whether or not Lithuania was in Africa.

His grades would slip, tests were a nightmare when he got caught up watching a bee buzzing near the window, only to realize he had answered three questions and only had eleven minutes left.

He was always a poor student, until fifth grade.

Mrs. Wilson had called him up after class, had noticed him zoning out and was about to chide him when she noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I just, I don’t know what happens, sometimes, my thoughts go too fast for my own brain and I can’t focus.” He was sniffling across from her.

“Steve, I’m going to have a chat with your parents. You’re not in trouble, but I think we can help you.” She smiled as she pat his shoulder, letting himself get collected before going to his next class.

She called his parents in at the end of the day, his mother sitting in the seat next to Steve, the principal joining them.

“I’ve noticed some trends in Steve’s school work and his presence in class. We think it may be in his best interest to test him for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. We feel that pinpointing the problem for him may be more helpful moving forward.

Mrs. Harrington agreed, waved her hand in a way that said she was bored of the conversation. Steve spent the whole next Saturday going through various tests, was wrung dry by the end of the day, but left with a clear diagnosis.

He began taking a low does of Ritalin, began focusing in class. His grades skyrocketed, getting the very first B+ he had ever gotten on his English essay.

He was okay until sophomore year.

He was an okay student, could focus in class, but not necessarily retain or understand the information.

But then Tommy found the pills, had laughed at him and called him retarded, the word that had haunted him his whole life, spat at him by the father that didn’t care about him.

So he flushed the pills, never refilled his prescription.

His grades slipped immediately. He wasn’t able to focus in class, had gone back to the days of staring out the window and getting confused about why it was called a square root.

He was constantly moving, would bounce his leg, would tap his pencil, would sometimes take the hall pass and just walk.

He knows taking his meds would fix the problem, but he had Nancy know, didn’t want her to know this weakness of his, this shameful secret.

But then he didn’t have Nancy, and his thoughts were racing, jumping from Nancy to demodog to Barb to Billy to his dad to Nancy to demodog to Barb to Billy to his dad to Nancy to-

He broke down February of senior year.

Graduation was soon as Steve’s grades were ass. He needed to focus on something that wasn’t Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad. So he filled his old prescription, took the same does he had two years ago and went to school.

When he was first put on the meds, he was told panic attacks and anxiety could be a side effect. He had never experienced that before, but now, now he lived in constant anxiety, and with his Ritalin, he was a mess.

He had locked himself in the bathroom above the gym, the one nobody uses. He was on the floor, trying to ground himself against the wall, trying to think of anything other than Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad, Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad, Nancy, demodog, demodog, demodog, demodog-

“Pretty Boy?”

Billy was in front of him, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Steve.

“B-Billy?”

“You okay? You’re kinda, kinda losin’ it.”

“I, I went off my meds for a, a few years, and I put myself back on them, and it’s, I, I know it’s lame, but they usually help and now-” he sobbed as Billy pulled him into his chest, soothing him softly.

“What meds?”

“Ritalin. It’s for, for ADHD.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“I fuckin’ knew it. The way you talk a mile a damn minute.” Steve’s heart sank. “And it’s not lame. Some peoples’ brains are just, wired different.”

Steve was starting to calm down, the anxiety shoving over into a raging headache. He groaned into Billy’s shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Head hurts.”

“Want me to take you home.” Steve just nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. Billy drove him home, sat with him while Steve called his doctor, made an appointment for next weekend.

Steve had gotten a new medication, adjusted to his current state. The new meds were like magic, allowing Steve to focus when he needed, wouldn’t let him fall into hyperfocus on something that wasn’t productive. He finished senior year on a good note, with okay-enough grades to score his diploma.

He spent the summer at Scoops, working alongside Robin.

Billy came in every day. Would sit with him on Steve’s break. On the days Steve seemed more spaced, he would marrow his eyes, would say you didn’t take your meds today, would drive to Steve’s house to get them for him, would make sure he took them, would take drinks out of Steve’s hands at parties, would make sure he wouldn’t do anything to interfere with them, would dread the days he would find Steve nauseous from the meds.

Bonus:

Steve realized he was in love with Billy when he found out Billy starting keeping a small store of Steve’s meds in his car, would update them periodically to make sure they were safe, effective.

Billy realized he was in love with Steve when he was talking about every animal he could name. He showed Billy the small library of books he had bought for himself about animals, could explain the difference between kingdom, class, phylum, and genus. Was throwing out Latin names for his favorite animals, giraffa camelopardalis, capra aegagrus hircus, nephropidae. Billy couldn’t help himself, had just leaned over and kissed him, left Steve giggling as they made out.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #harringrove #steve has adhd

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haro-whumps · 5 years ago

Text

Group Whumpees 6: Breaking Point

CW: transphobia, implied/referenced noncon, panic attack, shitty family relations, manipulation (sort of? Just in case), slavery, aftermath of abuse, multiple whumpees, defiant whumpee (but not for long! >:D)

Tag list: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @constellationwhump @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101

Special thanks to @icannotweave for inspiring some of the events in this chapter and chatting w me about it :3

Masterlist

The moment his phone was turned back on, it rang, and the ensuing conversation with his father pissed him off. His voice was loud, his free hand a fist, his face turned down in a snarl.

Master Galo was nearing his breaking point, Evan knew it. He might not have understood the nice guy act, but this? He knew this. He supposed he should be grateful it hadn’t come out at Lilah, that morning, that the bandages on his thick arm hadn’t been the final push needed to get him to snap, but he was going to snap soon. Evan didn’t know why he hadn’t yet, what about his weird mindgame was so important to him, why he wanted the five of them to believe he was so nice and shit, but it would be soon.

Greyson had provoked Master Galo, that first meeting. As far as Evan knew, he was the only person in their family to confront Greyson about it, wondering why Greyson was suddenly the provocative one. Greyson hadn’t said much in answer, just cleaned his glasses and asked Evan not to do anything foolish, himself, which was infuriating in its own right.

Honestly, almost everything that had happened since Mistress’s death had pissed Evan off. Their Master refused to give them clear rules, but starved them for not following them anyway. He didn’t want Attended, and he didn’t beat them when they fucked up, he hadn’t reminded a damn one of them of their place despite the fact that he obviously could. Did he think the sight of him was enough to make them cower? Did he expect them to take one look at his broad ass chest and heavy fucking arms and fall over themselves to please him?

It made Evan’s teeth grind that, if that were the case, Master would be right. He didn’t need to do shit; they were terrified of him anyway. Was that the game? To be friendly and sugar-sweet and smiley and happy go fucking lucky while his physique and their own hunger kept them weak-kneed and trembling before him? Or did he just like the anticipation of it all? Knowing he could bring the hammer down on them at any moment and laughing at them with every twitch and jump because they all knew it was coming, but only he knew when?

Fuck this guy! Fuck him and his stupid face and his broad hands and how he was able to bring them to their knees without even lifting a finger! Evan’s arms were shaking with his anger, with the unspent tension of multiple days.

He couldn’t take this.

He knew he’d promised Nyla, but he couldn’t take this. He couldn’t take the arrogance of it all and he couldn’t take the waiting and the waiting and the fucking waiting! He’d eaten a few hours ago, so if Master resumed starving him he could take it. Master was strong, but Evan was too. He could take it. And he would, because if it wasn’t Evan that Master Galo finally erupted at, it would be somebody else.

“I’m not having this conversation anymore!” Master Galo shouted, pacing the sunroom, each heavy footstep resounding loudly. “Dad, I don’t care! Okay? I don’t care! I’ve been busting my ass over here and all you’ve done is call me to complain, repeatedly. I’m done. I’m blocking your number. Don’t call me, don’t call the house, do not speak to me until tomorrow.”

Master Galo hung up, jamming his thumb against the flat screen of his phone with unnecessary force, and prowled over to the artisanal table he’d set the wine bottle on (Evan had been the one to bring the table into the house, and Mistress had rapped his knuckles harshly when he’d set the heavy wood down carelessly, too loud). The wine bottle had been mostly full that morning, and was now half empty. Master Galo drank straight from the bottle, and clearly did not know he was being observed.

He was pissed. He was injured. (Lilah had injured him, a fact Master Galo wasn’t likely to forget). If Evan was going to hit that breaking point, now was the time to do it.

Instinctive, animal fear pooled behind his ribs and below his gut, laced through the anger already wiring his teeth against each other and making his clenched fists shake. He knew what he was doing was stupid, but he was done waiting and wondering when Master Galo would hurt one of them.

He didn’t knock (punishable) and didn’t address Master Galo when he was seen (punishable).

“Evan,” Master Galo said with a sigh, setting the bottle back down, and Evan did not go to him to kiss his hand (punishable) and he did not kneel with his forehead to the floor (Sasha and Evan had that as a special rule for them, since neither of them “knew how to behave.” He didn’t know if that was punishable or not, for Master Galo, but still, he did not do it).

“Good, actually, I was gonna go look for you. Help me bring in the flower arrangements Lilah made,” Master ordered, not as much effort going into his nice guy routine, turned away from Evan and doing something on his phone (likely blocking his father’s number, like he’d promised).

Well, they had all agreed that there was one good way to make Master angry, that first morning.

“Yes, Mistress,” Evan said very deliberately, hurling the word at Master Galo’s back, and he heard Master’s phone case crack.

Master looked at him, eyes wide and angry, and Evan felt a rush of fear, of “now you’ve done it” rise in him like bile. But he maintained eye contact, wanting Master to know it was deliberate, that he’d said it intentionally. Summoning his anger, he jerked his chin forward. Do something about it.

Master made a strangled noise and rubbed over his face with a hand, shifted his weight onto one leg and tapped the toes of his shoe against the floor with the other, and ducked his head down while pushing his fingers through his hair. He propped the hand with his phone against his hip and waved his finger at Evan, then lifted his head. “Actually, you know what? Why don’t you go grab Nyla and have her come here?”

Nothing could’ve more effectively dropped the floor out from under Evan’s feet. The anger and tense fear, the readiness, the thought that he could handle whatever was about to come at him was instantly replaced with guilty horror.

“No!” Evan screamed, dropping to the floor, grinding his forehead against it. “No, Master, Master, please! No, sir, Master, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Master Galo made a noise, some sort of annoyed groan, and asked, “Can we not do this?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry sir I’m sorry Master I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again I swear, please, please don’t--”

“Yeah, I’m just. I’m just gonna--” Master Galo said, walking past Evan, and he lurched, grabbed Master with both hands, one around his belt and the other in the hem of his shirt.

“No! Please, punish me, punish me!” Evan begged, crying, knowing he was, his voice gone high and panicked. Inciting Master Galo was supposed to mean Evan got hurt, that he got to control the way Master Galo boiled over, not this, never this, not Nyla, “Please Master punish me!”

Master Galo pried at Evan’s fingers, and he knew refusing to let go instantly would just make it worse but he couldn’t! “I”m not going to--”

“Please!”

“Listen--”

“I’m sorry!”

“STAY.” Master successfully shoved Evan’s hands away from him, the order harsh and loud. “Stay here, don’t go anywhere,” Master ordered after, grip harsh but not quite bruising around Evan’s wrists.

Evan sobbed as he left, heavy footsteps audible. He stayed. He couldn’t afford to make this worse than it already was, not when Master was punishing someone else. Mistress Bethany had played many, many mindgames with them, but when she was pissed, she lost control. Evan could always count on that, and no one had ever been punished for his provocations.

But Master Galo was slower. He’d warned them of that day one. He was more methodical, clearly, and although he’d refused to beat them until now, clearly he knew how to hit where it hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Evan moaned into the vacant room, arms wrapped around his belly and forehead once again on the floor. He was shaking, sobbing, all anger gone and replaced only with fear, with shame, with an unbearable guilt.

“Evan?!” Nyla asked, alarmed, as she rushed into the sunroom. She ran in front of him and spun gracefully, sinking to her knees as she did in a flair of skirts, and he looked up at her worried face.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, because he was. He’d never been this sorry in his life.

“Master told me to come calm you down,” Nyla informed him in a scared rush, one hand to his shoulder and the other cupping his unworthy cheek. “Evan, what did you do?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated shakily, “I provoked him, I’m sorry--”

“You provoked him!?” Nyla hissed, fingers digging into his shoulder and he choked.

“I’m sorry!”

“Why would you provoke him!?” Nyla scolded, her composure ruined, “He’s been in a bad mood all day this is the worst time to make him angry!”

“I h--” Evan hiccuped on a sob, raising a hand to clench at his vest, fingers digging into his chest. “I couldn’t take the waiting, anymore, I wanted to have it over with.”

“Idiot!” she hissed. “Idiot!” she repeated, louder. But oh, that wasn’t the worst of it.

“He was going to punish you, instead,” Evan confessed, body shuddering and involuntarily casting forwards. “He was--I begged him not to but he didn’t--”

“Where are the others?” Nyla asked, voice hollow, and Evan felt another icy hand of fear grip his heart. If not him, Nyla. If not Nyla, someone else.

Evan struggled to his feet, wiping at his face that wouldn’t stop crying, and was stupidly grateful for the arm Nyla wrapped around his waist to brace him.

Sasha was in the kitchen, thank god, and was alarmed and surprised to see them, thank god.

“I fucked up,” Evan explained, Sasha’s wide eyes darting between them. “I pissed him off, he’s--smart.”

“He’s punishing someone else in Evan’s stead,” Nyla said quietly, and Evan leaned heavily on the counter as Sasha instinctively took a step back, her hands raised over her chest. “Where are Grey and--”

The other kitchen door opened, and Greyson walked in. Which just left one unaccounted for.

“Lilah,” Evan cried, despair seizing him as he collapsed. He sobbed into his hands, distantly aware that Greyson asked a question, and Nyla answered it. Sasha knelt in front of him, but he didn’t deserve her comfort.

Mistress Bethany had never done made him like this. Oh, he’d cried for her. He’d begged. But not like this, only ever out of pain or fear or exhaustion, never this. He could take the cane or boiling water or her nasty over-long fingernails, he could take the exhaustion and the hunger, he could take the words that somehow managed to cut like knives despite how often he told himself he didn’t care what the bitch said. But he couldn’t handle knowing that Lilah, little Lilah, was on the other side of an eruption that he had caused.

Nyla’s skirts entered his field of vision, the hem of her apron stained from an old spill. She stood close with her feet spread, the way she only got when she was angry (he deserved it), and he lifted his heavy head, breath hitching as he cried.

“You promised,” Nyla stated, the words damning.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaked. He’d keep the promise, now. He’d never piss off their Master again, not after learning that he would punish the others for Evan’s mistakes. He’d listen to Nyla, he’d take her advice and obey her as the leader of their family.

“You promised,” Nyla repeated, and the betrayal in her voice hurt worse than anything Mistress Bethany had ever, ever done. Nyla was not a violent person, but Evan almost wished she was. If she hit him for this, it would be no less than he deserved.

She loomed over him, like this, lips pressed thin and fists balled at either hip, but she whirled, braced her hand on a countertop and ordered, “Evan, stay here with Sasha and calm down. Grey, avoid all of Master Galo’s usual haunts until dinner. No one talks to him unless he talks to them first.”

Evan let his head drop back down, biting back tears, his body jerking with each hiccup, and squirreled himself away in front of the pantry. Ideally, there, he wouldn’t be able to get in Sasha’s way, since she was doing her job and apparently the only thing he was good at was fucking things up for the rest of them. Why hadn’t he just behaved himself!? Why was seeing Master Galo break such a priority for him? Stupid fuckup, why wasn’t he the one bleeding and aching right now?

If he had the chance to do it over he’d take it in a heartbeat. He wished he could, he’d give anything, he’d do anything, if it meant his family didn’t get hurt. Hurt because of him.

He was supposed to be trying to calm down, but he couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t until after Greyson had set the table and taken Master’s plate out to him that Evan finally wound down, accepting the glass of water Sasha gave him.

After Master ate, Sasha plated meals for Nyla and Greyson, then, more hesitantly, herself, and then she stared at Evan.

“Don’t,” he croaked, voice hoarse and raw, “I couldn’t keep it down, if I did.”

“H-he said…” Sasha murmured, gripping her left hand tightly in her right. “O-only if he r-revoked, I, I have to, m-make sure you all eat.”

Was that a subtle punishment, too? If they didn’t eat while nauseous, didn’t keep it down, that was a broken rule?

“But. But,” Sasha continued, voice whining higher, “if he r-revoked perm-mission and didn’t t-tell me, I--”

“Breathe, Sasha,” Greyson said, his hand on her shoulder, the one without the lock of hair she left loose to self-comfort with. “If he didn’t tell you, then be obedient. Even if he gets upset, Nyla and I can beg for you, that you were only following his directions. It’s a hard test for the first day with a new rule, but we’re here for you.”

Sasha took a deep breath and nodded, then looked to Evan again.

“I can’t,” he whispered miserably, “I’m nauseous; it’ll come back up.”

“Bread and water,” Nyla interjected, stabbing her fork into her own dinner. “It counts as eating, Sasha will have followed the rules. It’s light, it won’t come back up.”

Even though she was mad at him, she was still fixing his problems.

“Thank you,” he whispered, heart twisting with fondness even through everything else. He stood and washed his hands, promising Sasha he’d get it himself. She plated Lilah’s dinner, Evan cut off a hunk from the morning’s loaf, and he nibbled at it miserably.

“D-Do… you w-want to come w-with?”

See Lilah. Comfort her, maybe, from the very thing he’d caused. He turned his head away, ashamed.

He ate the bread, slowly, his stomach churning unhappily, when she left.

“She’s okay!” Sasha shouted--well, what counted as Sasha shouting--as she ran through the door on her return. “L-Lilah, she’s n-not hurt. She’s b-b-been Quiet a-all evening! N-nothing’s happened to her s-since lunch! She was c-confused, when I s-said we’d b-been sca-ared.”

Nyla gripped Sasha at the elbows, everyone’s attention on her. “Sh-she’s okay!”

Evan ran.

“Evan?” Lilah startled when he entered, and she was. She was okay. The relief stole his breath from him. “Evan, what’s happening?” Lilah asked as he crossed to her, barely remembering to toe off his shoes before climbing into bed, flinging himself at her and wrapping her in a bear hug. “Why did Sasha think I was hurt?”

“We all did,” he croaked, pressing his nose to her hair. She was alright. Master hadn’t hurt her.

She shook her head against his chest. “I told you earlier, remember? He wasn’t mad I hurt him.”

“No, no I--” Evan had to stop and swallow. It was shameful, to confess to it again. To recount how he’d acted, and how the others had almost gotten hurt because of it. Lilah smacked his head at the end of it, though nowhere near hard enough to hurt.

“Idiot,” she scolded. “Stop doing stupid things because you’re angry.”

“I won’t,” Evan promised with a wet chuckle, so relieved she was okay. “Never again.”

But if Lilah wasn’t hurt, that meant Master hadn’t punished anyone. It meant Evan had kickstarted some new stage to the mindgame; there was something left undone. Sure, maybe it fit into what Evan understood of Master Galo’s ploys that he was simply reminding Evan that he knew how to break him, so easily and so very thoroughly. Maybe this was just another show of power. Maybe Master Galo had realized Evan was trying to claim control, and had denied him even that.

Or maybe, Evan thought, as he lied wide-awake after his family had all fallen into an unsteady sleep, Master Galo was simply biding his time for when it would hurt the worst. The punishment was coming. It had to be.

Evan had one last chance to make sure the person punished was him.

He crept up the stairs, quiet despite the fact that he knew his family couldn’t hear him, here. He went to Mistress Bethany’s old room--largely untouched, just yet--and walked across the perfectly spotless carpet. One of his jobs, as housecleaner, was to come to this room every morning and scrub out the blood from whatever had happened the night before. If even a speck was left, he’d spend the following morning scrubbing without gloves to protect him from the harsh chemicals.

He was very good at cleaning. He wasn’t good at much else, but he could clean. And, he reminded himself as he opened the tool closet and lifted the heaviest wooden cane, he bruised very nicely. Mistress Bethany had beat him with this, him more than any of the others, trying to break him, trying to put out the final shreds of defiance in him, the rebellion he clung to, his anger. He tried to feel for that anger now, and felt nothing.

In less than a week, Master Galo had done what Mistress Bethany had failed to do over the course of a decade.

He gripped the cane below the handle and took a deep breath. Move gracefully. Don’t cry before it starts. Don’t emote with ugly expressions. Evan was no good at pretending to smile, but he could look submissive. He slid one hand down the cane, gripping it lower as he started to walk. The smooth wood raised goosebumps across his skin and bile in his throat, but now wasn’t the time to back down.

He wasn’t angry, this time, he wasn’t impatient or stupid. He’d do as he was meant to.

Don’t stutter. Don’t recoil. Flinching was okay but not too far, or it would look like a recoil. His footsteps, though quiet, seemed to boom inside his ears. As did his pulse, and his breathing. Thank Master Galo properly. Don’t panic, this time around.

That would be the hard one. The looming threat of what would happen if he failed--if he didn’t beg hard enough or right enough that Master Galo would punish him--had him on the brink of terror already, and they hadn’t even started yet. He bit down on that fear, with no anger left to shield him from it, and forcefully reminded himself, Don’t panic.

Knock on the doorframe. He did. Greet Master when acknowledged. “Master Galo.” Kneel. He did.

“Evan, why are you here?”

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly, earlier.” Evan lifted the cane in both hands, presenting it to the man that loomed over him like a nightmare. “I intentionally called you the wrong name, I shouted, I touched you without permission, and I was ugly in doing so. For these offenses, Master, please,” he hoped Master Galo hadn’t heard his voice crack on the ‘please,’ “punish me.”

The fear was building, compounding in on itself, too fast, but Evan kept his body rigid, immobile. He’d fucked up, so many times, he wouldn’t fuck up this one, he couldn’t. Even when he heard his Master take slow, thoughtful steps toward him: he kept his head down, his arms up. Even as each step sent him closer to a panic. Even as his breath threatened to break loose of his control, to speed up, ugly and audible.

Even as his Master’s shadow blocked out the moonlight.

Even as Master Galo took the heavy cane from his hands.

Galo needed to be very, very careful. He’d been hasty, earlier, impatient and irritated with this man misgendering him when he was already at the end of his rope thanks to his father. A couple laps around the property line and the familiar burn of lifting heavy objects and moving the floral arrangements inside had helped him cool off--a lot. But the damage was very clearly already done. Evan sounded wrecked.

The cane was solid wood, probably oak or some shit--heavy. If he hit Evan with this, he could kill him. Galo set it down and leaned it up against the chair in the room, overfull with his belongings. Having Evan sit there wasn’t really an option, not unless he wanted to dump the stuff out and he needed to be delicate, here.

Alright, what did Galo know? Evan thought Galo was still pissed at him (not entirely unreasonably). Evan wanted to be punished with a heavy fucking cane, due to #1. Something had spooked this guy--badly. Galo couldn’t carry on not knowing what that thing was, or else they’d wind up right back here again: with a slave kneeling just inside his doorway, ready for him to do terrible things to them.

“Evan, I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them honestly, okay?” Galo said, slowly walking back to his bed and sitting on the end of the mattress, patting next to him. “Will you come over here?”

“Yes Master,” Evan answered instantly, moving to get up but then hesitating. Okay, Galo’s bad, he did just say he’d be asking questions, not necessarily making suggestions via questioning.

“Come here,” Galo ordered gently, and Evan moved faster than Galo had ever seen him move. He didn’t sit on the mattress like Galo had hoped, but knelt at Galo’s side. “Sit on the bed, please,” Galo tried, and Evan moved again, still quick.

“Thank you.” Galo pat him, once, on the back. Evan did not have a history of responding well to touch, for all that Galo had seen him, so he didn’t plan on doing too much of it while they talked. “Now what’s all this about” was probably a redundant question, since Evan had literally listed off his offences when he came into Galo’s room.

Galo, predictably enough, spent too long thinking, because before he could even begin to formulate an intelligent question Evan whispered, “Anything.”

“Hm?”

“Anything, Master,” Evan stated, barely any louder, if at all, “I’ll do anything.” Slowly, deliberately, Evan moved his hand directly towards Galo’s crotch, and Galo was grateful for the speed because he didn’t have to snatch Evan by the wrist, just stop him.

“No, Evan, I’m not fucking you,” Galo said firmly, aware of his mistake too late. He must be tired, if he thought inviting Evan up onto the bed with him was a good idea. “Didn’t meant to imply--”

“Please,” Evan choked out, small.

“Evan?” Galo became aware that Evan was trembling in his grip.

“Please don’t hurt them,” Evan begged, sounding at the end of whatever rope he had, and Galo’s brow furrowed.

“Them?” he asked, “You mean, the others?”

“Please,” Evan repeated, “It was my mistake, I did it. Please, Master Galo, punish me.”

Galo bent to get a better look at Evan’s face, and he saw tears brimming there, inside a thousand yard stare.

“Hey, buddy,” Galo said, waving his hand in front of Evan’s face without even as much as a blink, “I’m losing you there.”

“They didn’t--” Evan choked.

“They didn’t do anything wrong,” Galo finished for him, gently.

“So please, please punish me,” Evan begged, the first tear spilling over, and Galo couldn’t think. He was tired, he was spent, it was late, he wanted to be asleep and not having this conversation but Evan was freaking out, and that was Galo’s responsibility to fix. “I’ll take anything, I’ll be quiet or loud or however you prefer, I deserve it Master, I’ll do anything you tell me to just please, please--!”

“Evan, stop talking,” Galo said, careful not to tell him to be quiet or shush or anything that might imply he wasn’t allowed to cry right now. Evan’s mouth shut, and Galo let go of his wrist in order to sling an arm around Evan’s shoulders, hugging him. He needed time. He needed to think, but thinking was so hard when he was so tired. He let Evan cry against his shoulder, the poor guy’s hands in fists at his sides, and Galo didn’t know how to fix it.

It looked like the only thing that would calm Evan down, at this point, would be to actually punish him. But Galo wasn’t going to hurt him, so, something else? But what would count as a punishment--enough that Evan would accept it as such--but not hurt him? Galo couldn’t think.

Oh! So he’d buy himself some time.

“Evan, tomorrow morning, meet me in the den.” Galo felt bad for even saying it, feeling Evan flinch under his arm, but it was supposed to be a punishment. “I’m tired right now,” not a lie, “so I’ll deal with you then.”

“Thank you Master,” Evan said, and Galo moved his hand to give Evan a little push on the back, mostly to help the man. “Thank you Master, thank you.”

“Go to sleep, Evan.” Galo watched him stagger to his feet, and stumble once on his way to the door.

“Yes, Master, thank you.”

Galo sighed and flopped back on his bed. He was making mistakes and his body felt like lead. He knew he had to climb up and crawl under the covers, but they were so far away.

The longer he lied there the harder it would be. Fuck.

But he did feel better in the morning. Clearer, sharper, better equipped to puzzle out what the fuck was going on with Evan.

At least he could hazard a guess at what had spooked the guy so bad: he thought Galo was going to punish the others for his actions.

...Now that he thought about it, Evan had lost his shit the first time when Galo said he was gonna have Nyla help him with the flowers instead. How had Galo phrased it exactly? He couldn’t remember, it was such a small detail, a harmless sentence said when he was pissed and frustrated. Except it hadn’t been harmless, clearly. Evan had taken it to mean Galo would hurt Nyla, and, he guessed, the other three, also.

“God,” Galo muttered to himself, pulling his notebook out and writing Don’t insinuate you’ll hurt other people when one person “messes up” on the list of suggestions he had for his own behavior.

Flipping back a page, he wrote, Evan will beg to be beaten if you spook him enough. Not as surly as I thought???

Galo ran his fingers through his hair and started getting ready for the day, his old suit tight around the chest and biceps. As he dressed and groomed himself, he tried to think of a good punishment that wouldn’t actually hurt Evan. He was combing his hair when the lightbulb went off, the idea striking him.

He headed on down to the den, where Evan was already waiting, on his knees with his wrists crossed behind his back.

“Morning Evan,” he greeted, approaching him and extending his palm, which Evan kissed.

“Master Galo,” Evan returned, quiet but thankfully not sounding as panicky as the night before. Galo tilted his head up by the chin so he could see his eyes. The usual fire he sometimes thought he saw was beyond absent; Evan looked like a broken man.

“Repeat after me, Evan,” Galo said, hoping that being punished would serve as some small comfort, that he wasn’t entirely off-base. “I will not misgender Master Galo. I will not provoke him and I will show him respect.”

Evan didn’t hesitate to say it back to him, and Galo removed his hand from under Evan’s chin.

"Good, Evan. Now say that out loud 999 more times. You may leave the den after you do; don't lose count."

And so Galo spun on his heel, and left.

He wouldn’t do anything to confirm that Evan had, in fact, said it 1,000 times. He had shit to do and it didn’t matter to him, personally, if Evan did lose count. But if nothing else, even just kneeling there that long would be a punishment in and of itself. And it addressed the issue.

“Morning Sasha,” Galo greeted, offering his hand again and getting started on his morning shake. “Has Evan eaten yet this morning?”

She shook her head. “Cool. After he’s done with his recitations, he can eat, but don’t interrupt him please.”

Sasha nodded and he smiled at her. “Atta girl. I’m gonna go load up the van and head to the church. This everything?” Galo gestured at the foodstuffs, packaged neatly the night before. When she nodded, he gave her a pat to the shoulder. “Thanks, Sasha. I’ll see you all tonight, probably after dinner so don’t wait up.”

When everything was loaded and Galo behind the wheel, he buckled himself in but then took a moment before he actually turned the van on to sigh and rub his hands down his face.

“Alright, Galo,” he said to himself, staring at the car ceiling. “You can do this. It’s gonna suck, but then it’s gonna be over.”

He breathed in, breathed out, and went to go set up for the funeral.

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angst-art-writing · 4 years ago

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Locks and Keys, Promises to Keep

TW: Reference to abuse and torture. Creepy whumper.

It was silent, other than calm breathing. Artemis lied on her back on the floor, letting the coolness of it ice the bruises and aches she felt. She stared up at the ceiling. Even if it was silent in that room, she could still hear the buzzing of her own thoughts in her head, echoing louder and louder the more she tried to silence them, to think of something else. She didn't even notice Santiago coming in before he called her name.

"Art?"

Her head turned towards him, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Hey," she mumbled. He smiled and shut the door quietly, heading over and plopping down right next to her. Santi was the only Reaper who was close to her age, and wasn't a total dick. She'd known him for a while now, he was one of the only...friends she had. They were close, but distant. Siblings.

"Well you look just lovely, huh? I think the white brings out your eyebags. And your hair- What's going on with that?" He teased, nudging her gently with his elbow.

"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes at him, and he smiled wider. She came with an insult of her own. "I know you aren't talking shit when your teeth are as crooked as my sexuality."

"I love our chats." It was quiet for a second before Santi spoke again. "I heard what happened. With the Neoma girl."

"Hm? Oh...Yeah. Her." It was hard to get her out of her head. She was mumbled in with all the other thoughts, one of the only not-as-shitty ones.

"Why didn't you just tell them?" He looked over, with a raised brow.

She shrugged, mainly because she still didn't really have an answer. Or, none that she could say to him. She didn't want to endanger him with her own thoughts of defiance. Countless times she'd dream of running away with him, making their own life, but it was unrealistic. It was stupid. Home was here, and it would always be home. Santi had seemed to accept that, and part of her was jealous of that fact.

"I knew you were stubborn but not like that." When she didn't answer again, oddly (as she was usually up to talk), he kept talking and asked, "What do you think? About living here now?"

"I absolutely hate it. Even home with dad was better than this." She frowned and leaned back some, tilting her head back against the wall. "At least then I could take walks on my own, you know? Instead I'm stuck here. All the time."

Santiago gently reached for her hand. He didn't try and hug her, which was appreciated. Hugs just felt like traps now, even if she couldn't help but lean into them, fear always wrapped around her as arms did. A warm embrace only for cool fingers to dig into old wounds, hug you so you can't get away. Hugs didn't feel safe, but she longed for them, from the right people. People she could trust. She took his hand and sighed before she continued, "I mean, I guess the only good part is I don't have to worry about groceries anymore, right?" She tried to joke, and smiled softly. But he didn't really know what that meant.

Santi shrugged a little.

She would often sell herself and let people do whatever they wanted, and people would give money to her. She knew how to steal, of course. But if she was caught once it would mean very bad things. It was easier to trade. Still, not having to do that anymore wasn't good. Vincent let people do whatever they wanted anyways- But Santi didn't need to know that. He didn't know most things, and Artemis didn't want to tell him. He wasn't the right person to talk to, and besides, he had his own worries.

"I'm sorry," he said after a second. "Is your dad staying here too?"

"I don't know. Maybe.."

"Maybe Vincent will let you stay at my place with me?"

"That's nice, Santi, but it would never fly." He squeezed her hand tighter, and she went on. "I have a tournament today."

"Groups?"

"I hope not. I'm exhausted."

Santiago had never seen her fight before, and she was thankful for that. He knew how much she hated those things, and Artemis would hate for him to see her as entertainment. It was one of their promises.

She could remember it clearly. They were sitting under Vincent's desk, hiding. He was hiding from his boss, Spencer- of the Workers Unit. They developed weapons and suits for the Reapers, using information from the other Unit, the Researchers. Researchers conducted experiments on Mythics, the like.

They had sat under that desk, across from each-other. One of the first promises. It was forbidden for Santiago to see her fight. After they had made that promise, they had been dragged off, away from eachother.

Before that one, however, there was the very first promise. That they would stay together, no matter what. It was so easy to say that, to lock fingers together and promise on it. She looked towards him, and she saw him on that day. He was so small, his eyes bright. Even now his eyes were still bright. She wondered if she looked the same from then too.

He turned and looked over, and Artemis was whipped out of the memories. It was one she cherished. He sighed and smiled a little. "I kinda wish I was like you. People seem to like you here, y'know."

"What?" She turned to look at him, startled.

"Y'know, they're always training with you, they want to push you. You get all kinds of attention. They like you."

They like to use me. But she just shrugged and looked away, before he spoke again. He looked unbothered, but he kept talking.

"They enjoy you." Exactly. She hated that. "You fight good, they want to make you better.. You get attention from the boss himself, they give you weapons. They love you, Art. Just.. sometimes you don't listen. I kinda wish I got that attention."

She said nothing and just looked down. He was right. It was true. She did get a lot of attention.. Maybe they were just trying to make her better, in some way.. She didn't have time to dwell too much on it before he said something.

"Here- I have some oranges I stole from the kitchen." He fished into the pocket of his pants and took a few out, passing them to her. She took one and let go of his hand to start peeling it.

"Thank you.. Hopefully these ones aren't moldy." He sighed heavily.

"I only did that once. When are you going to let it go? You already got back at me, you threw up all over me, remember?"

"That was just karma." She smiled at him slightly. It felt weird to smile, it felt like someone was just pulling the corners of her mouth up to force her to do so.

Santi nudged her again, leaning against her and smiling. He pushed his head against the side of her face, making her lean to the right slightly. She turned and flicked his forehead, sniggering.

The two just sat with each-other, and Artemis allowed him to braid her hair. As he did so he told her about what he was working on. Santiago was part of the Workers, and he told her about the new suits they were working on, and how soon the Researchers might be able to extract powers from the Mythics. He sounded excited- Artemis tried to share it but...

"Santiago!" A voice called distantly from outside.

"Ah, shit. Thats me-"

"No, really?" Artemis glanced back at him and he stood, letting go of her hair. "Go on, you'll get both our asses kicked if you're caught. Mostly mine, since you're the good one."

"Thats not true. They like you better." He raised an eyebrow, and then stood. He didn't know all they did to her. And what he did know, it was excused. It was her fault, a punishment for her actions. Truly, it was.

Artemis scoffed and pushed at his leg slightly. "Go, then. I'll see you later, mkay?"

He moved forward and grinned at her, pausing to flick her in the head. "Adios." He waved and then slipped out the door, and Artemis was left alone again. She slumped back against the wall, gingerly touching the braid he had made. She waited, this time dreading when the door would open again.

---

It had been a few days, and Artemis stood in the bathroom, preparing for another assignment. Vincent had explained to her what to do, and her main focus was to kill Paige. It was a fancy event, more or less a trap. The Researchers would be talking to some important scientists, so that way they could occupy their lab, at a fancy dinner one of them was hosting. They had invited Vincent, as well as the co-bosses, Esteban and Spencer. They could take one plus person each, and sadly, Artemis was that person for Vincent.

When she had asked how they were going to get Paige there, he had simply said he would leak information that Artemis would be there. She didn't know how, but she was in no place to argue. Just get the job done.

She stood in front of the mirror, her hands fumbling with the tie. Since there weren't many girls involved with the reapers, they mainly just had men's clothes. She stared at her reflection for a moment and just felt disappointed. She had a bruise developing on her jaw, and her eyes were sunken in and drooped. She looked exhausted, hurt. Weak. She wanted to kill the person in front of her, wanted to bash her head into the mirror.

Artemis glanced down and tied the tie, throwing on the coat a second later. She let her hair spill down over her shoulders. It was almost to her waist by now. Paige's hair was longer. For a moment she was no longer in that bathroom, but up on the rooftop with that girl. Her hand went up to her neck as she remembered the cool blade pressing against her throat. She could see Paige, panting with bright eyes, her shadowy hair moving in flow with the wind, wings curling.

With a soft sigh she picked up her dagger and slipped it inside her coat and the image was gone again, a barrier blocking it away inside her mind. Still, she tried to shake away the girls' eyes. Her eyes held honesty deep inside their blue.

She opened the door and Vincent was there. He turned and looked her up and down. "You look nice," he said politely. Artemis mumbled a pathetic thank you, before Vincent placed his hands on her shoulders and turned back. "Your hair is very long..It's very pretty," he said with a smile, combing his hands through her hair. She was tense, waiting for him to pull her hair and wanting nothing more than to slap his hands off of her. Of course, she just stood still and just stood there tensely, unmoving.

"I like it," he mumbled. He continued to smooth down stray hairs on her head, fixing the imperfections. She wanted nothing more than to chop it all off, then and there. She hated the touch but he was also making her hair oily. He took a white ribbon from his pocket, tying it in her hair.

She glanced into the mirror again, just for a moment. The dagger felt heavy, pressing against her body. Her hands burned, burned with the blood she was about to spill.

Who was that? Was that really her, staring back at her?

She didn't know.

Vincent smiled at her reflection, patting the side of her face. "There, see? Perfect."

#whump #writing #whump writing #oc whump #writeblr #writing whump

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allelitefics · 5 years ago

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Better than you Pt. 2

Characters: MJF x Reader

Categories: angst, fluff.

Title completed based off of MJF’s catchphrase lol .

Summary: When you and MJF broke up, it was fine. Until you started seeing each other more frequently, you start to hook up on a weekly basis now. Then your ex before Max comes into the picture and you’re left with a decision to make. Do you pick the guy who’s known as a Grade A asshole? Or the quiet, sweet one? Will they even want you after all is said and done?

So at this point everything was a mess. Max didn't want anything to do with you, he was definitely giving you the cold shoulder and you felt awful. The following week at Dynamite, you set up backstage, feeling absolutely alone. "Knock knock." it was Wardlow. "Hey Mike." you say. "Can we chat?" You nod your head, turning in your chair to face him as he grabbed a seat next to you. "Look, I didn't know you had something going on with Max...he seemed pretty pissed about it. And since I'm being paired with him I just want to stay out of it." "Yeah I get it.." "How long did you guys date?" he asked. "6 months.." He nods his head trying to process everything, his nod then turns to a slight shake of his head. "You realize this is what broke us up." "What do you mean?" you ask with a pout. "You do this..you can never make a decision about anything, your lack of decisiveness is your downfall. Do you want to be with him or not? Because sleeping with someone who you dated can get really confusing..for both of you. I don't want any of it. You're a good person, Y/N, but get your shit straight." You look to the side avoiding eye contact, "Yeah.. I get it." you say. He gets up and leaves the room and you're left feeling just as shitty as before.

Max completely avoids you, and when you do see each other he doesn't bat an eye at you and it kills you. "Damn, that's cold." Stella, the makeup artist for AEW says to you as you were chatting with her that evening. "I fucked up. Big time. I don't know what to do, it's killing me that he won't even acknowledge me." "What you need to do is do some serious thinking, ask yourself if you want to be with him. Give yourself some time to figure it out."

-----

So that's exactly what you did, you didn't try to push it but you gave yourself another week. When you arrived in the next city, one of tasks on your agenda that day was to sit down with Max and figure out what shirt design he wanted to be released. You were dreading this, absolutely dreading it. You asked a backstage coordinator to grab him and let him know to come see you.

"Hey." was all he said when he came into the office area backstage. "Hey." you said back. "What are the designs? So we can get this over with." You pulled up the three different designs corporate had sent to you for him to choose from and moved your laptop for him to look at. You had to admit that you were trying to get something out of him that day, you knew you'd see him so you put on one of his favorite tops of yours. It had the perfect amount of cleavage and for some reason you'd hope that would break the ice. But it didn't, it was enough for him to notice you and linger on before he paid attention to the images on the laptop which brought you a tiny bit of hope, but not enough. "The one that says Better Than You" he says. "Are you sure?" you ask. He glances at you quickly then stands up like he's leaving the room. "Yep. Pick that one." he says then leaves the room.

You sink down into your seat when he leaves the room. Then, Stella walked in. "So... how did it go?" she asks. "Terrible." "Why?!" "He barely said a word to me, just completely gave me the TV MJF character." "I'm sorry girl.. I mean what are you so scared of???" "I don't know.." "You do know, and it's not the age.. what about all those stories you told me about how he'd surprise you..." You smile a little.. "yeah.."

You walked into your boyfriends apartment, he was standing in the kitchen cooking up something that smelled amazing. Anyone that grew up in New York, you were convinced knew how to cook up an amazing meal. You stood by that when Max had made you countless amazing meals. "It smells amazing in here." He hadn't realized you had walked in and he turned around in a smile, he had on black dress pants and his shirt was unbuttoned, you figured he was still in the process of getting ready. "Damn girl, I hadn't even finished getting dressed." "I told you, you don't have to dress up for me at your own place." you say approaching him. Your hand lingers his bare chest as he pulls you closer and kisses you. His kisses were powerful, much like him. Those kisses, they made you weak. "Sit down at the bar, I got your favorite wine." he said going to open it. "You spoil me." you say smiling. "You deserve it."

After you flew back home the next day you made up your mind. You needed to go see him, yesterday and the interaction you had was brutal to say the least. In your mind it probably went a lot worst than it actually had. You took the two hour drive to his place in Orlando...

Max hadn't been doing great either, after the interaction the previous day he was pissed and upset. "Why don't you just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?" Cody asked. "After what she did? No." "You technically weren't together man.." "Still, what was she going to fuck the both of us and not tell me?" Cody understood why his friend was pissed off. He would be too, but the both of them were lying to each other.

When he got back home from Dynamite, he laid around his apartment in his basketball shorts and t-shirt. People saw him as this well dressed guy, with his Burberry scarf and expensive suits. He liked that image, but now, back home from all that and having to talk to Y/N yesterday, he was borderline depressed. He poured himself a glass of scotch, and sat in his living room moping around. Until there was a knock at his door, he honestly didn't want to deal with it hoping it was the mailman and that the knocking would go away. After the knocking didn't subside, he finally shouted "Who the hell is it?" he said approaching the door. "It's Y/N." His heart almost stopped. He paused, then opened the door after a moment. "Can we talk?" you say. You tried not to smile, because you loved when you saw him in loungewear. To see him at his most laidback was definitely a turn on for you. He read your face clearly, "Sure." he said taking a step to the side, glass of scotch still in his hand. "So what do you want?" he says approaching you in his bar area. You sat on the stool and prepared yourself to just tell him everything. "I'm really sorry Max." you start. "You've said that already." he cuts you off. "I know, I just...I can't take this anymore.. I was stupid and being with you scares the shit out of me." "Why does it scare you?" he asks looking annoyed. "Because." "Because I'm 5 years younger? That's bullshit, Y/N. And you know it. I did nothing when we were together to give you any reason to be scared of us." You nod your head agreeing with him, "I know." "So what's the problem then?" You froze, not knowing how to continue. "What was the purpose of you coming here?" He followed up with, he was so frustrated and annoyed and it made you super anxious. You contemplated just leaving. "You drove 2 hours, you must have a reason." he added. "I think I'm in love with you, Max." you spit out quickly. He puts the glass of scotch down next to you. He's been standing in front of you this whole time, but with his free hands he cups your face so that you look at him. "I think I'm in love with you too, dumb-ass." You roll your eyes and you both laugh. He pulls you up into him and you wrap your arms around him. This was the right decision.

#mjf x reader #mjf fanfiction #aew fanfic #maxwell jacob friedman

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humbae · 4 years ago

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A fanfic for you!!

Below the cut, a submission from a wonderful person. Ylvis fanfiction of the Vegard whump variety, I most definitely recommend reading it for all those interested in the subject.

Hey hey! I only now discovered your AO3 stories and enjoyed them so much! It actually inspired me to write one of my own based on the events from this summer. You don’t have to post this, I was just interested to hear your opinion on my first fanfic ever :). Thanks a lot for your wonderful work! He would have never believed that a simple single kick could hurt so much. But he did not regret the idea - after all, it was a lot of fun, and the pain would eventually go away and make a nice memory. He limped to work, curious to see how Vegard and Calle were handling their own ordeals. When he opened the door to the office he and Vegard shared however, he was surprised to find it empty.

It was odd; Vegard was almost never late, and even when he was late, he would still arrive earlier than Baard. Baard just put it down to him probably oversleeping for once or having a slow morning after an intense day at work yesterday. That’s how life gets after 40, he thought to himself, smirked and got to work.

He didn’t have to wonder about Vegard’s whereabouts for too long. Five minutes later, his phone beeped and he saw a message in which Vegard informed him that he will be most likely working from home today.

“That won’t be possible.”, Baard replied. “The guy who is supposed to accompany the show with the accordion just told me that he will be showing up today instead of tomorrow so that we go over the music together, he had some changes in his schedule. He is coming at 14.00.”.

“Do I have to be there for that? Cannot we just arrange it through Skype?”, Vegard replied.

Baard was taken aback. This was not a reaction he would ever expect from Vegard when music, and especially accordion (which they both liked so much), were involved.

“Don’t be a lazyass, just come to the office. What’s up? Why can’t you come?”

There was no response for a couple of minutes, and Baard was just at the verge of calling Vegard, when he saw that Vegard replied with “On my way.”.

An hour later, when Vegard showed up, it became very obvious to Baard why Vegard wanted to stay at home. He did see his brother walking very funnily yesterday - funnily enough for him to put it on Instagram - but this was a whole different level. He had his scooter with him, but only to act as a crutch instead of using it as an actual scooter. He was not putting any weight on his leg.

“Why didn’t you drive if it hurts to walk, you idiot?”, Baard greeted.

“Nice to see you too… I just don’t trust my leg to work with the pedals in a state like this, that is all.”, Vegard said still with some agony and irritation in his face.

“But does it really hurt so much? I mean, my leg is also fairly painful, but I hope I look nowhere this pathetic.”

“Thank you, trust me, if I could choose, I would indeed opt for looking less pathetic.”, Vegard replied and rolled his eyes. Baard decided not to respond and just made a mental note to drive Vegard home at the end of the day; Vegard was obviously not in a mood for being teased right now, and it was Baard’s fault after all that they were all in this state now.

Things went a bit better after they started working. This was most likely because Vegard could just sit in his chair, so his mood improved significantly as he was without the added pain of walking.

The lunch-time was approaching, which the four of them usually spent together eating outside, in front of the building to enjoy the warm summer weather.

“Hungry yet?” Baard suggested after his belly started making noises.

“No, not really, I think I will skip lunch today.”

Baard raised his eyebrows; this was nothing like his brother. It would be usually his brother making the lunch suggestion first.

“You mind elaborating on why?”

“Do I have to? You will call me a whiny little bitch if I do."

"I will call you that anyway. So what is up?”

Vegard sighted. “It is just that the prospect of staying hungry looks far more appealing than the prospect of having to walk outside or even to the fridge, that’s all.”

Only then Baard understood how bad Vegard’s leg must have hurt.

“We can also have it in the shared office space today. The weather is not that nice anyway.”

“Don’t restrict yourself, I am sure you would prefer to have it outside.”, Vegard insisted.

“I will ask Calle, but both he and myself are also still limping, so I am sure both Magnus and Calle will agree to stay here. And I will get you your lunch from the fridge and bring it. Just get your lazy sorry ass over there in the meantime."

A couple of moments later, they all gathered in the shared space to have lunch. Both Calle and Baard appreciated making the decision to stay inside as they were both limping towards their chairs; Vegard just rolled there directly on the chair from his office that he was already sitting on.

Baard and Calle spent the lunch discussing the consequences of the kicks they both received and laughing at the other related events from the previous day. Magnus was just mostly listening, happy that he did not have to go through the ordeal himself, and laughing loudly with them.

The only silent member of the lunch party was Vegard. This was very unusual, he was typically the one who talked the most. Normally, him being a bit silent for once would be a welcome, refreshing change to the other three, but combined with the misery and paleness written all over his face, it was clear that this was not a good sign. To try to involve him a bit and raise his spirits, Calle started what the three of them called an "aircraft chat mood fixing technique” - a strategy they used anytime they needed to improve Vegard’s mood and get some excitement out of him. Calle even started spitting clearly incorrect aircraft facts just to prompt Vegard to correct him and force some engagement, but nothing was successful.

“You look like shit, Vegard.”, Baard said finally.

“If you want me to look less like shit, don’t invite MMA fighters to kick us on the TV.”, Vegard replied, but there was no humour in his voice.

Then he sighted and continued. “I just don’t know why it seems to be hurting me so much more than the two of you.” Ah, that’s it, Baard thought; that’s the reason, next to the pain obviously, why Vegad is so upset. Over the years they have worked together on TV, Vegard seemed to have learnt to deal with most of the derogatory comments he had been receiving very well, whether it was about him being clumsy, short, fat, nerdy or looking Turkish, but to this day, he still hated to be seen as weak and helpless.

“It did seem like he kicked you the hardest.”, Calle admitted.

“Which is what I especially don’t understand, since you -” Magnus continued, but Baard interrupted him right away with an intense look directed his way.

“It does not matter now anyway. Let’s get back to work.”. Baard knew that the last thing Vegard now needed to hear were comments about his size, implying that he indeed was weak and helpless. They left the table and went (and rolled) back to their offices.

The rest of the afternoon flew quickly. The musician arrived, and, fortunately, the sound of the accordion and making of music at least helped improve Vegard’s spirits sufficiently to make the afternoon more bearable for everyone involved.

Right after the musician was gone, Vegard announced that he was going home. Baard turned, and right away, without a word, he stood up, took his coat and his car keys and indicated that he was ready, too.

It took a moment for Vegard to realise that Baard was intending to take him home by car. A wave of relief hit him that he did not even have to ask for such a favour from his little brother in front of everyone else. He just let out a silent “thanks” to which Baard replied with a simple head nod and a smile.

The relief quickly disappeared when he realised he first had to make it all the way down to where Baard’s car was parked. He felt nauseous at the thought of having to put any weight on his leg again, and as a result turned even paler than he already was. But there was no way he was going to ask Baard or any from his friends for support really, the most of them were also still limping and Magnus would literally have to carry him in his arms if he were to help him - he was too tall for Vegard to put his arm around his neck for support.

Calle and Magnus both noticed Vegard’s unease and after telling the brothers to wait a few minutes, they emerged from the storage room with the wheelchair they used back during IKMY for their guest pranks. Vegard thought that a wheelchair was definitely a bit of an overkill, but in his current condition, even being carried on a stretcher would be more appealing than walking. In addition, since the wheelchair was well known around the building from the pranks, at least other people would not know that something was wrong and could only assume that the brothers were testing it again for another prank. They thanked Magnus and Calle and left.

The ride home was mostly silent. Baard felt a bit guilty for being responsible for a segment which ended up with his brother in such a state, and Vegard still felt a bit ashamed for being so heavily affected by something that the others could deal with so much easier.

“You know that we do have a couple of meetings which we have to attend in person this week, right?” Baard said as they approached Vegard’s house.

Vegard just managed to let out a little “Hnngh”, hoping to put an end to that conversation for now, but Baard would not let go. “If the pain continues to be this bad, maybe you should go see a doctor?”. Vegard hated doctors, but having Baard actually talking to him about something this seriously, without any teasing or mockery, meant that he must have been even a little worried, and so Vegard was not going to dismiss it completely. “If it does not get better, yes… but I am sure it soon will.”.

…

It didn’t. When the follow-up messages of “Working from home today, sorry” arrived to Baard’s phone during the next two consecutive mornings, Baard knew Vegard would not go to the doctor without additional persuasion. He was getting truly concerned - the pain in his own leg was almost gone now, and the same for Calle, so if Vegard’s leg was still hurting as much that he could not walk, something was obviously very wrong. Maybe if he mentioned how it could potentially affect the show, his brother would be more reasonable? He called Vegard.

“We cannot delay the show because of your stupid leg. Go see a doctor. You have to be here tomorrow morning anyway for the meeting.”, Baard said.

“Then I still have time until tomorrow morning for it to get better.”, Vegard insisted.

“It will obviously not, don’t be stupid. Go to the doctor today.”

“Well, ok, I would, but Helene is gone with the kids, so she cannot take me today. Maybe the day after tomorrow then or next week?”

Baard was having none of this.

“If Helene is gone, then I am the one taking you to the doctor. Make an appointment and tell me when to pick you up. Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me well. Find a doctor and make an appointment NOW, or I will do even that for you."

Vegard remained silent for a moment. He has never seen Baard behaving like this; this was always Vegard’s behaviour towards his little brothers instead.

"Is that silence a ‘no’ Vegard? Should I call my physio and ask him if he can make an appointment for my stubborn 40-year-old brother?"

"No, no, ok, I will find someone."

Baard was pleased with himself and made a mental note to do this more often. While it was not really something he would ever expect himself to do back to Vegard, it was a surprisingly effective persuasion method. In half an hour, Vegard messaged him to ask him to pick him up with a specific time and destination of the doctor’s office.

When Baard came to Vegard’s house, he was alarmed to find his brother looking equally as pale and miserable as he did the two days before that. He helped him jump on one leg to the car and felt bad for having to rush him to make it to the doctor on time.

Only five minutes after coming to the waiting room, a physiotherapist appeared and called Vegard’s name. Vegard stood up onto his one working leg and started heading into the direction of the office. Baard felt a bit awkward; unsure as whether to follow or not. On one hand, going to the doctor’s office with your 40 year old brother together would seem crazy to most people; they were both grown up, independent adults. On the other, he was genuinely curious about the state of his brother’s leg and seeing how out of it Vegard was, he thought it would be a good idea for Vegard to have someone there who could actually be clear-headed and write things down.

Having decided that he would join, he took the opportunity that Vegard clearly struggled to get to the office, so he stood up and allowed Vegard to use him as a support.

"So, what did you do?”, The doctor asked while filling out the paperwork.

“I think that might be pretty hard to explain… ” Vegard started, but the doctor interrupted him right away.

“Mr. Ylvisaaker, I know who you are and what you do. I have no expectations regarding what I am going to hear now.”

The brothers laughed. Baard, being responsible for what happened, spared his brother the duty of explaining, and described their little vegetable stunt. After the doctor stopped laughing, he instructed Vegard to lie down and remove his clothing.

When Vegard put his pants down to show the physiotherapist the injury, Baard couldn’t believe what he saw. A dark, red area spread across the entire back-side of Vegard’s thigh. He himself wondered whether he had something similar on his own thigh after the kick; he has not really checked. He started to really question whether the stunt was worth it.

The doctor showed them the ultrasound pictures of the hematoma and prescribed Vegard crutches until further notice to aid healing. Vegard initially protested, but Baard knew that the protest was just a formality for Vegard to feel like he was acting manly, as Vegard knew very well that the crutches were necessary at this point. Only one question remained unanswered.

“How long…?” Baard asked.

“These hematomas are quite tricky. We can only accelerate the healing process by preventing additional strain and injury - which is why you have to use the crutches - but otherwise it is very individual. A hematoma of this size can take months to heal.”

They all remained silent for the moment. Vegard knew what it meant; it meant that the vacation Helene and the kids looked so much forward to would have to be cancelled. It also meant that a lot of the segments they were planning to film to make the show a bit more interesting would not happen. Filming action scenes with one man limping on crutches while he should be resting his leg was not an option, and would probably not be received well by the public. This entire show was already organized on the very last minute, and now it looked like even more would have to be figured out on the spot with so many ideas, some of which were already half-baked, discarded.

Baard was thinking the same. But this time, he was the one in the role of the big brother and seeing how troubled Vegard looked over the entire prognosis, he returned him the little favour that Vegard always did for him - Baard looked at his older brother, smiled reassuringly and said, “that’s fine”.

They thanked the doctor, picked up the crutches from a pharmacy along with some creams and pain killers and went back to the car. They just sat there and allowed the news to sink in, including the consequences they were now going to face. Baard was the first one who started.

“You know… had I known that this would happen…”, Baard said, before Vegard interrupted him to tell him that he understands and is not angry about it.

They drove back to Vegard’s place. Staring at the house, after a moment, Vegard looked at his brother with anxiety in his eyes. Neither of them talked, and yet an entire conversation seemed to have taken place. Baard just verbally concluded it with “Yes, I will talk to her. Though if I do, maybe I will end up in a worse condition than you are right now.”, Baard smiled and so did Vegard.

*****

End of submission.

Dearest anon, this was the most amazing surprise, thank you so much! And of course I posted this, everyone should have the chance to read this lovely fic. Because yes, I liked it a lot! It was very well written, had a good pace, lots of emotions, logical progression, believable dialogue, a little bit of humour, and a whole bucketful of brofeels. Absolutely loved it! And it definitely hit the spot for me, this is exactly what I was thinking about when I heard of the kicking and its consequences, so thank you for making a story out of it. Also, I’m very flattered that my scribblings could inspire you, thank you very much for the kind words. You should definitely write more if the urge strikes you, this was highly enjoyable :)

#Ylvis fanfiction #Vegard whump #brofeels #so many brofeels #submission

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whumpmeamadeus-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Untouchable (Persona 5 Whump)

Non shippy fic of Iwai helpiing with Ren, who has gotten himself in a spot of trouble. From my fic ‘Vignettes of Comfort” on Ao3! (Trans-Akira, Guns, Threats, hurt, comfort, stabbing mention)

“Just stay under the radar, kid,” Iwai muttered, leaning against the cluttered desk in the back of his shop.

Ren looked him over; man, if he was 20 years older. Even 10. Damn. He banished those thoughts from his mind and tossed his hair from his eyes. “I pretty much live under the radar.”

That chuckle, more like a chainsaw revving than a laugh. “Good way to go through life, if you can. Now go on, get outta here. Ain’t got time to waste on a kid like you.”

“See you soon, then.” With a saucy salute, Ren bid Iwai farewell and left Untouchable. He was feeling pretty confident about his evening, knowing it had went well and that he was getting even more of a discount. Morgana, safely in his bag, chatted his ear off the entire way through Shibuya.

All in all, this had been a pretty good night.

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Honestly, at first Iwai had been annoyed by that skinny little nobody coming through and taking up his time with weird requests for things kids should never have been interested in. But he never heard of the kid doing anything illegal with what he bought. At least, nothing he got caught doing.

Iwai also knew, now, that the things Amamiya Ren bought from him were being used to a standard even he couldn’t complain about.

Kaoru would be jazzed to know about that.

Iwai finished up his work and went home. It was a simple night at home with Kaoru, something he didn’t get to enjoy as much as he should. But he was going to make more of an effort. He thought about seeing if maybe he couldn’t get Ren to hang out with Kaoru a little, take him to the batting cages or SOMETHING. They were only a couple years apart and Ren was a good kid; more importantly, he was a kid with a spine and a sense of justice. Kaoru was doing just fine, but maybe spending some time with a kid a few years older, who really seemed to have a handle on himself, would be good. He’d make a point to bring it up the next time Ren came by.

When a week later, he hadn’t seen the kid, he didn’t think about it. Sometimes he wouldn’t show up for weeks on end. What was Iwai gonna do about it? A kid was a kid.

A week and a half, and nothing. Iwai didn’t even pass by him on Central Street, which he had done before. Normally, he wouldn’t worry; it wasn’t any business of his what Ren got up to.

But something was gnawing at him. He tried to ignore it, and was doing a pretty steady job.

Half a week later - two in total since the last time he had seen Ren, if one was counting, which he certainly wasn’t - Iwai was doing some light dusting just to keep his mind off of things. Their shit country. That Shido guy everyone seemed to be all up in arms about (which he didn’t understand, the guy looked like a tool who collected toy skulls and made stupid sexist videos on the Internet). Kaoru was suffering in English, which Iwai was no good in either. Maybe, a little bit, he was worried about Ren.

He turned his back on the door and knelt to get something out of sight. Of course, the moment he did that, he heard the door open; always happened that way, didn’t it? “Just a minute.”

“Dad!?”

Kaoru’s concerned voice jolted him, and Iwai stood straight up. His son was still in his uniform, with his school bag, like everything was normal.

But he was also supporting Ren, who looked tired, almost gaunt, with faded, yellowing bruises under vibrantly coloured new ones running up and down his bare arms, and on his neck. Then Ren looked up and met his gaze; the blackened, swollen state of his eye was magnified through those gigantic glasses.

“How in the hell is THIS flyin’ under the radar?” Iwai grumbled, internally panicked that his old family had come after them after all.

“Well,” Ren said dryly, “I didn’t start the fight, if that helps.”

“Shut up.”

Iwai and Kaoru helped Ren get to the back room, where he all but collapsed onto the closest surface. Immediately, Iwai dragged Kaoru back out into the store. “Tell me what happened.”

Kaoru watched him go over and lock the door before clearing his throat. “I just went to the diner and he was there with like four empty coffee mugs in front of him, covered in bruises just like now. Except I only saw his face, his sleeves were rolled down.”

That was why Ren had looked especially odd to him - usually the kid was wearing a jacket, whether is was his uniform or something else. Iwai shook his head and lit a cigarette despite the look Kaoru gave him, the look that said You told me you were gonna quit months ago. “He say anything to you?”

“About what happened to him? No, I just asked if he needed help, he said no. I told him too bad and that if he didn’t come with me I was just going to call you anyways.”

“Good kid,” Iwai said. He was proud of his son for doing the right thing. “Listen, I got it from here - why don’t you get back to the diner and get started on your homework?”

Kaoru didn’t seem to like it, but listened - especially when he was given Iwai’s wallet. Iwai let him out of the store, then pulled down the grate before locking the door again. He didn’t necessarily want to send Kaoru out there again, if this kid had been hurt because of some ancient BS, but thought it might be easier to get Ren to talk if Kaoru was out of the way. He’d make it to the diner just fine; Iwai hadn��t raised an idiot, after all.

His more pressing concern was finding out what, exactly, had happened to Ren.

He got a bottle of water from under the desk, and a first aid kit, then moved into the back room. Ren was sitting exactly where they had left him, but with his eyes closed and head now leaned back against the wall. He was holding onto his phone, but it was dark. Iwai announced his presence with a sigh. Ren cracked open the eye with the least amount of damage. “Where’s Kaoru?”

“What happened to you?”

“That’s how you answer a question?” Ren asked, with that edge that Iwai liked, that reminded him of himself. “I just...got in something I shouldn’t have.”

Iwai took a drag from his cigarette and looked Ren up and down. He looked much smaller without that jacket. Maybe Iwai had been mistaken in thinking he was old for his age; this kid was hardly more than an ankle-biter. “No shit. But what?”

“It wasn’t anything like what you got into, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just got my ass handed to me last week, then again this week.”

They had what felt to Iwai like a battle of wills. With the kid so beat up, Iwai knew he was destined to throw the match and did so spectacularly, with a hefty sigh and a rolling of the eyes so hard that he thought he saw the top of his own skull. “Fine. Have your secrets.”

He leaned over to reach into a mini-fridge and pulled out a cold pack from the small tray that served as a freezer. “Put this on over your eye,” he said, pushing it into Ren’s hands. He didn’t take his eyes off of the kid until the gel pack was over the worst of the bruising. Then Iwai flipped open the first aid kit. After everything he had been through, he made sure to keep the thing pretty well stocked; not that there was much he could do for bruising. He found a cream for it, and tossed that to Ren as well.

“...I think I’m bleeding, too,” Akira said, and for the first time, Iwai thought he heard a hint of weakness in that voice.

He didn’t show that, however, and just nodded as he grabbed a package of gauze and medical tape, as well as bandaids, from the first aid kit. Iwai hoped this wasn’t bad enough that Ren would have to go to the hospital, because he would be a real hypocrite to his own ways if he dragged the kid there for this. He took a stack of napkins from some take-out meal or another and doused it in water from the bottle. “Lemme see.”

Ren hesitated, one hand playing with his dirty collar. Iwai just gave him a stern look. “Remember who I am, kid - I’ve patched up worse wounds than whatever you’ve gotten yourself into.”

With a sigh, Ren stood and turned around. Iwai swore under his breath; there was a gash in his shirt, and blood trickling through to stain the white, red. Ren slowly unbuttoned his shirt but instead of dropping it, just pulled it up to rest underneath his armpits. Iwai didn’t question it, just looked over the cut that stretched, thin but not too long, over the left side of his lower back; it was clearly a switchblade. He’d know the cut anywhere.

“Not too bad,” he said. “Surface wound, won’t need stitches.”

“I can clean it up,” Ren said, and Iwai was going to fight him on it before realizing that there were any number of reasons this kid wouldn’t want to be touched after a scrape like whatever he had gotten into. So he just gave the napkins to Ren and gave him verbal cues to wipe the cut clean. It took a little folding and maneuvering, but Ren eventually got the gauze positioned and relented, letting Iwai tape it down.

He let Ren do the bruises, too, and turned around to look through the first aid kit again, half to look for any ibuprofen and half to give Ren some semblance of privacy. There was a bottle in there, and the expiration date was still a year away. Perfect. Only when Ren said he was done did Iwai turn back to him, bottle in hand. Ren had his shirt pulled back down now, and was holding the cold pack to his neck. “...thanks.”

“Sure thing. I was an idiot kid getting into fights once, too.”

“It wasn’t a fight,” Ren said, and this time he sounded very serious. His eyes were hard, and Iwai held up a hand, palm upward, a man asking for more of an answer than that. “It wasn’t. I was jumped last week, and when I didn’t have enough cash on me, they beat me and said they’d be back.”

Anger bubbled up in Iwai’s gut; who the hell would do that to a kid? At least it didn’t sound like anything Iwai’s past had dragged them into. “And then?”

“Well I saw them all around. Think they knew where I lived. Saw them in my neighborhood. Outside of school even.” He shrugged. “Got cocky, figured they’d forget about me, or I could...persuade them otherwise.”

Iwai had wondered about that part; this kid was a Phantom Thief, after all. How’d this happen to someone like him?

“But things got away from me, and I couldn’t. They caught up to me, and...well. Here we are.. I didn’t have what they wanted, they got me, pulled a knife. Barely got out of there.”

Ren was trying to keep his cool, but Iwai could see the way his hands were shaking. Just a little. With a sigh, Iwai leaned against the table, arms folded over his chest. “You know who they were?”

“Just some low-level wannabe gang, I think. If I knew their names, I could…” Ren shook his head, then drained the rest of the water left in that bottle despite its tepid temperature. “But I don’t, so I need to figure out what to do next.”

“What you need to do is sit there and let me think,” Iwai said. He knew how to deal with up-shots who wanted more than they were worth. Because this wasn’t going to go down this way; these assholes weren’t going to harass this kid any longer. Iwai’s fingers just barely brushed the tattoo on his neck. “You wanna end this once and for all?”

Ren looked at him, then said ‘no,’ quietly. Then again. “No, you don’t have to get involved.”

“Kid,” Iwai said, leaning forward and looking him in the eye. “It’s too late for that

“I’m in.”

Ren let Iwai take him home that night, accepting a ride in the back of a surprisingly clean and sporty car with Kaoru. No one was in Leblanc, and he heard Boss in the back. Moving he quickly, he called out that he was back and darted upstairs. Morgana, asleep under the bed with just his tail poking out, didn’t stir. Good thing Futaba had him today and worn him out; she had really taken a shine to that cat.

When he sat on the bed he did so quietly, not wanting to wake Morgana. He unbuttoned his shirt and looked down over his bruised stomach. The worst of it, however, something Iwai was never going to see, was under his binder. Usually he slept with it on, but with this bruising...Ryuji would kick his ass worse than this if he knew Ren was pushing himself with that thing. Of all the people who knew - which was only about five people, in the whole world - who knew that he was trans, Ryuji took it the most seriously. He had done all of the reading, searched online, learned everything he could. For Ren.

So it was with Ryuji in mind that Ren struggled out of his binder and abandoned it on the bed. It should be washed, but he couldn’t even think about that until he was covered. His chest was covered in bruises, and once it was no longer compressed the pain blossomed outward from there. First, Ren took a shaky breath and palmed the cream Iwai had given him. Yes, he should put this on, but...well, unless he was putting the binder on, Ren didn’t let his hands near his chest. It was too much for him. Later, maybe. He pulled out his pajama shirt and yanked it on, then his grey hoodie over that. What could he say? He was feeling vulnerable. Ren climbed under the covers and pulled his phone close to him. The minute he touched it, the device buzzed. A text from Iwai.

‘Keep an eye out kid. Come by the shop if you see those dicks.’

Ren would have chuckled at the wording alone - exactly how Iwai spoke - but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t feel much like laughing.

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Two nights later, Ren was feeling shaky after a shift at the Beef Bowl Shop. All night long, he had spotted the men who were after him for something as trivial as money. Ren had money, he didn’t have to worry about that. This was the principal of the thing. He thought that, if he could get them talking he find out at least one name, he could take them down where he was stronger - Mementos. Then they wouldn’t be bothering anyone else, either.

Honestly, he wouldn’t have been worried if it was just one of them that he had spotted. One guy, he thought he could handle.

But there had been three separate guys out there through the course of the night, including the one who had cut him. Now, Ren did not consider himself a coward in any sense of the word. But this?

Well. It made him uneasy enough to send a text to Iwai. It was simple, just ‘3 @ the Beef Bowl Shop,’ because he didn’t know how else to ask for assistance other than simply telling him the facts. This would be different, he told himself, if so many people were not relying on him.

His boss had dismissed him 10 minutes before he sent the text. Only 5 minutes after he sent it did he hear a knock to the employee part of the building. One of his co-workers stuck her head in. “Uhm, Amamiya? A guy who says he’s your uncle is here?”

Then he really could have laughed. The man even came up with an excuse. He thanked his co-worker and went out to the main dining room. Sure enough, Iwai was there, leaning against the window and looking bored while a few of the customers looked on, worried.

“Thank for coming to get me, Uncle Munehisa,” he teased, his voice light despite the reason Iwai had come.

“Shut your mouth, kid,” Iwai said, but Ren saw the chuckle playing at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get out of here.”

The moment they were outside, Iwai looked both ways down the street. “When was the last time you saw one of them?”

Ren started to move across the street, towards the alley that led to Untouchable, keeping an eye out as well. None of them seemed to be in the immediate area; maybe he had been hasty. But he did feel a little more secure with Iwai at his side. “Last two passed by maybe ten minutes ago.”

“We’ll just get to Untouchable and work from there, alright?”

“Alright.”

It was simple, really. Just get into the store and leave from there. Ren followed Iwai across the street and down the alley. He glanced at the Velvet Room; Justine did not meet his gaze. At least if things ever got too crazy, he could jump in there. Not ideal, but doable. Iwai pulled out his keys and opened the door to Untouchable. He held it open. “Get in.”

Ren moved past him, and the impending sense of danger did not come quickly enough.

A sharp pain in his back, over where he had been cut before, and he was sent reeling forward into the store. His vision swam as his head bounced with the impact of his knees on the floor. But Iwai’s grunt of pain hurt way more than that. He hoped that Iwai would stay away as Ren pushed through the pain and turned around. There were two guys on Iwai, who looked calm and collected as he slammed his fist into a jaw. Ren would have chuckled if the guy who had pushed him did not drop to the floor and push him back, to the ground, with his arm on Akira’s neck.

He had just been too distracted with Iwai to move quickly enough. With all of his might, Ren pushed against the man holding him down; the silky shirt, leopard print, slid around under his grasp. That STUPID shirt - Akira knew it well.

This was the man with the knife. Ren knew that before he even brought it out. “You think your ex-yakuza sugar daddy can save you? Too late for that - we got you.”

Ren thought about all of the bruises on him. He thought about how a group like this would never involve the police, so he shouldn’t be at any risk if he retaliated. He thought about his friends, waiting for him to lead them. And he thought about how Iwai was over there, fighting for him.

It became absolutely effortless to take his fist and drive it into that stupid leopard-spotted stomach. Ren was able to get the man off of him, but his main goal was to get the knife out of reach. Never mind that he was in a store full of replica weapons, many with blades triple the size of the knife - THAT was the one that had dug into his back, and the owner seemed pretty fond of it.

He yanked himself up using the counter, while the guy was still on the ground, and Ren made a quick decision to drive his shoe into his head. Not enough to seriously hurt him, just keep him down. Ren was still feeling winded from being knocked to the ground, and wished more than anything that he had the same skills in the real world as he did in the Metaverse - there, he could get knocked down a hundred times and get back a hundred and one. Here, he was just tired, his gun a model in his pocket, and Arsene felt a world away. But Ren was still strong, and after his arrest had a better hold on his rash behaviour. He no longer acted so quickly under stress, thought his actions out more.

Today, that action was to lower himself back to the ground and grab the man’s wrist. Ren twisted his wrist around until he had no choice but to drop the knife, then snatched it away. His instinct was to toss it across the store, but that was stupid. So he folded the thing and stored it in his pocket before jumping over leopard print, who was still moaning on the ground, and joining Iwai.

Who was doing very well. One of the guys was on the ground just outside of the shop, looking dazed, and Iwai was wrestling the other one to the ground.

“It make you a big man, huh? Threatenin’ kids?” Iwai growled, and Ren didn’t think he knew he was being watched. “Trash like you makes me sick.”

Then he moved his hands in a quick, expert way that Ren did not think he could ever duplicate, and the other guy dropped, too. He was still alive, coughing once he hit the ground, but looked down for the count. Ren moved over to the door, glancing behind him; leopard print was still down, too.

“Thanks,” he said, watching Iwai heave. It must have been some effort for him, and there was a pang in Ren’s heart for his own father, who would have thrown him to the wolves rather than fight for him. But then Iwai was on him, holding his face in those rough hands.

He turned Ren’s head gently every which way, then looked over the rest of his body. “They get you?”

“Not really,” he said. “I got pushed down and he came at me, but I’m alright.”

Iwai sighed and looked at the men on the ground outside. “Let’s get the other one out here and leave ‘em. They’ll wake up dazed but they should be fine.”

Ren nodded, even though at this point he didn’t care if they were fine or not. He helped Iwai move one out of the doorway, closer the first guy Iwai had taken down. That one was sporting a huge bruise to his temple. “What did you do to that guy?”

“...taught him a lesson,” Iwai said. He rolled one shoulder as they straightened up. “Listen kid, I’m gonna make sure punks like these don’t bother you again, you hear -”

A silencer on a gun does not silence it. A normal silencer takes the sound of a gunshot down 14.3-43 decibels, meaning that any shot is plenty audible. Of course, once a gun is shot, even if it is heard, there is hardly any time for a potential victim to move. That is not, usually, the main purpose of a silencer. A silencer is stop a sound from spreading, not to stop a potential victim from hearing it.

So when the man in the leopard print shirt, now on his feet, aimed his silenced gun at Ren and shot, both Ren and Iwai heard the blast. Already in the act of turning, Ren knew that the bullet was meant for him. He knew that it had left the barrel. And he knew that he could not drop to the ground or avoid it.

All of these realizations came to him in a nanosecond. One second, there was a bang; the next second there was pain shooting through his arm and he was on the ground. His ears were ringing, his arm was hot and wet.

And then, there was nothing but Iwai.

When he heard that gunshot, a million things ran through Iwai’s head. He was not going to let Kaoru be left behind again. He was not going to let everything he worked for fall to pieces. He was not going to let this punk end things for him. He was not going to let them hurt Ren ever again.

Then the kid dropped to the ground and Iwai’s world spun out of control. He wasted absolutely no time. The man in that idiot shirt aimed at him, but Iwai was quicker. Dropping low, Iwai closed the distance between them in four long steps, coat flapping out behind him. One second he was outside, across the alley; the next second he was under the guy, in front of him, and Iwai’s already bloody fist, knuckles threatening to bust open, sent his head snapping back in a powerful uppercut. The young guy went down, and he dropped the gun. Pathetic; he really was just the worst kind of guy. Before anything else, Iwai picked up the gun.

The butt of the handle against a thick cranium made sure this asshole wouldn’t be standing again for quite some time.

He dropped the gun into one of his pockets and flexed out his fingers as he stood and turned. Had it really ended so quickly? It seemed ridiculous. But that didn’t truly matter at the moment. What mattered was getting to Ren.

Thankfully, when Iwai got to the kid he was sitting up, leaning against the wall, clutching at his bloody arm. He was pale, though, rocking back and forth a little. Iwai knelt at his side and tilted his face up, bloody hand leaving a mark on Ren’s chin. His eyes were wide and the pupils were dilated, but his face was calm. His nostrils flared as he struggled to breath, though.

Luckily, Iwai was always calm under pressure. “Come on, if you’re gonna have a panic attack you’re not gonna do it out here. But before I can move you, you gotta tell me - did he get your arm?”

Ren nodded; at least he still seemed to possess enough of his senses to nod. He pulled his hand away, palm bloody, and Iwai was able to get a good look at his arm. It was an instant relief to see through the torn shirt that the bullet had not gone through him, only grazed him. The wound wasn’t deep at all, just kissing his flesh enough to bleed heavily. But Iwai was well-trained - he could tell at a glance that the bullet was long gone and had not gotten close to any arteries. “Good,” he muttered. “That’s good.”

“It’s...good I got shot?” Ren asked, and Iwai couldn’t even begin to fathom what sort of thoughts and feelings were behind the laugh that leaked from his lips.

Not what Iwai had meant, though. He gave Ren a look as he tore the rest of the sleeve away and tied it around the wound. Just temporary. “Well, it DOES mean you scared this guy enough or took a big enough gouge out of his pride that he thought he had to use a gun to get you down.”

That, of all things, made Ren smile. Cocky kid.

Iwai hid their attackers behind the old worn-out bikes in front of his shop. Once the store was cleared out and Iwai made sure that no one was coming to check out that sound of that shot, he brought Ren inside and made him sit behind the register. The kid was still a little shaky and Iwai was pretty sure that once he had time to process what just happened, he would probably be a mess. For the second time in a week, he got out the first aid kit. “Before you came along I used this thing maybe once a year. Gonna charge you for a new one if you start using up all my supplies.”

“Sorry,” Ren said, fingers prodding near the wound. “Next time I’ll get shot somewhere else.”

“Good thinking. Alright, let me see it.”

He untied the sleeve and let it drop the to the ground. The bleeding had staunched a little, which was good. But still…” You want me to take you to a hospital?”

“No,” Ren, said, suddenly on edge. “No, no...too many questions at a hospital.”

The similarity to something Iwai himself had said to a friend, a long time ago - a lifetime ago - was almost enough to knock the wind from his lungs. He turned the sound into a laugh. “How many secrets can a kid your age have?”

“One for every year, it feels like.” Ren let him clean the wound and blood around it the best he could. “If we go to a hospital, they’ll know a bullet wound, they’ll call the cops, and if the cops find out I was near real weapons...let’s just say, probation turns to jail time real quick.”

Iwai’s eyebrows shot up so quickly that they nearly disappeared under his hat. “You? Holy shit, Ren. You’re a wild ride.”

Iwai worked steadily to do what he could for the wound. The responsible adult in him screamed ‘Take the kid to a hospital!' The wild part of him, from long ago, told him that this kid was going places. But it was the yakuza part of him that took over, the part that said you never rat out a brother, you help him on his terms, you don’t break his trust. He got Ren’s arm as clean as he could, then doused the wound in something green and anti-septic. Ren hissed at that and tensed, but otherwise took it well. The wound, once it was clean, was in even better shape than he thought before. No stitches, just a jagged cut that might mean a scar later. But Iwai saw thick scars on the Ren’s arms and wrists already, and had a feeling that adding one more wasn’t going to be the end of his world.

He took care to wrap the wound gently enough to avoid pain, but tightly enough that the last of the gauze-like bandages from his kit would be able to do their job. Iwai sealed the end with an X of white medical tape then looked into his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine, kid.”

“Yeah, Akira said. “Fine.”

But Iwai saw that look in his eyes. There was a storm brewing inside that kid, and Iwai was going to keep him there until it was over. Iwai left out the back way of the store and got them dinner, called Kaoru and sent dinner home to him as well. Maybe the time alone would jump-start the freak out this kid was bound to have. It didn’t matter how tough you were, or whatever other shit you had been through in your life.

No one reacts well the first time they get shot. Iwai himself had thrown up and slept for 24 hours.

He sat with Ren as they ate, pretty quiet, meals the same shade of blue-grey in the dim lights on the shop. At first, he thought Ren was eating with his right arm at his side because of the pain. But when Iwai moved around to grab some napkins, he could see that Ren was holding something clenched in his hand.

“What ya got there?”

Ren looked down, not even seeming to realize that he was holding something. “Oh.” He gingerly put it on the counter. A folding knife. “Leopard print had it. He cut me with it last time, too.”

Iwai shook his head, and was about to respond when Ren’s hand formed a fist on the counter. “He could have killed me.”

There was no answer for that.

“He could have killed me over something as stupid as money. He could have come after you, or Kaoru, or any of my friends, for money.” Ren dropped his gaze to look at his knees. “Holy shit, I was stupid to think it would go away on it’s own. I’m usually not that fu-”

“Don’t start that,” Iwai said. “If you’re gonna freak out, if you’re gonna throw up, if you’re gonna cry, fine. But don’t start holding all that responsibility for other people’s shitty choices on your shoulders. If you start doing that, you never stop.”

He thought of Tsuda and took a breath. “So what’s it gonna be?”

Ren looked at him, then leaned back in his chair and put his hand over his eyes. “This is so stupid. I use all sorts of weapons every day as a Phantom g-goddamn Thief, and one gunshot wound gets me like this?”

His voice was thick with tears, and Iwai was honestly relieved. Better to let out whatever bullshit was going on inside then hold onto it until it destroyed him. He sat by and let Ren cry, let him hide behind his hand. That was all that there was left for Iwai to do, anyways.

But when Ren leaned forward and put his head between his knees, Iwai knew that some dam had burst and everything his kid - Phantom Thief, under probation - was holding on to was ready to come out. He didn’t want to disturb him, didn’t want Ren to think that he had to contain himself, but Iwai couldn’t let this kid suffer alone.

“Hey,” he said, sliding out of his seat. When Ren looked up, Iwai took his protective earmuffs off and slid the hat off. He placed the hat on Ren’s head, brim pulled down low over his eyes. The earmuffs, he readjusted a little bit and clamped over Ren’s ears. They blocked out all sounds and would leave Ren with some semblance of privacy.

Iwai stepped back, but suddenly a hand was holding his jacket. Ren was looking down now, but he had the hem of Iwai’s jacket in a vice grip. He pushed himself forward and the wheeled chair propelled him just a couple inches. Iwai was wary, but let the kid throw his arms around him. Iwai didn’t think he had been this close to anyone in a long time, but he wasn’t about to push him away. Ren buried his face in Iwai’s stomach, arms tight around his middle. He was crying in a way Iwai hadn’t in years, but he remembered the feeling. Helpless. Hopeless. Vulnerable.

The shittiest feeling in the world. Iwai put his hand on the back of Ren’s head and let him cry it out. Tomorrow, when it was light out, when this all seemed grey and distant, when Ren was safe in school or at home...Iwai was going to make sure that he didn’t have to worry about those thugs ever again. He hated guys like that, who had huge egos and lost it when they popped, who took on only people they thought they could beat, who took advantage of people. They deserved to be knocked down a peg, and Iwai would make sure it happened.

He still had connections, after all.

#persona 5 #whump #munehisa iwai #ren amamiya #whump fic

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years ago

Text

Distant Connection - 4/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: a bit of angst, a lot of domestic fluff Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

It was 7am and he slept approximately 2 hours out of 7. He went down the hallway to Harmony’s room to maybe get a little bit more rest with her in his arms. She was like a pill against every PTSD symptom for him. Except for the occasional panic attack. He opened the door silently like the assassin he was trained to be and saw her all spread out in her bed. It was chaotic in her room since she was still getting used to being here. His eyes fell onto the notebook on her desk. There was a painting of his metal hand resting on top of the book laying on his lap. A scene from a from a few hours earlier. He silently grabbed the sketchbook and read the note under it. *This is what makes you human ❤* A soft smile made its way into his face. He flipped backwards and saw a sketch of her in Steve’s style with a note in his handwriting under it. Slowly, he continued the journey through all the pages. Each page holding a special emotion. A watercolor of Steve with the words *stay safe*, detailed little flowers, the common area with *this is where the biggest dorks on earth meet* written below it, a painting of him with black eyes and a smile and his words *I don’t want you to destroy yourself to help others*, blue magic - *getting better at this*, a sketch of him sleeping with the note *You look like you are yourself when you sleep ❤*, an unfinished sketch looking like a gruesome scene with a *I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep you safe*, another sketch of him including a short *You feel like home ❤*, a sketch of the library in the compound - *study area*, sketches of clothing, two people hugging - *human connection never changes*, more little girly sketches, two people kissing - *someday.*

It clearly was chronological and it almost made him cry to see her quote their conversations in the notes. Especially the one under the painting of him with black eyes. He shook his head, men like him don’t cry...at least that what he was trying to make himself believe. He looked at the desk with supplies all over it and decided to sit down and also draw her something even if it looked horrible. He really put effort into drawing their hands from a few hours earlier when he realized he was completely falling for her. He put a little arrow to her hand *small cute hand* and an arrow to his *giant metal hand* and wrote a little note after he finished *my little witch - thank you for making me feel like the person I am ❤* After looking behind him and still seeing her sleep he decided to go back to his room again. He won’t be sleeping after seeing her sketches anyway.

She woke up at 10am with the first thing coming to her mind being his emotional state she could sense with her powers yesterday. It threw her off so much that he felt so intensely loving towards her. She put on different clothes, showered and got ready and while she put her art supplies back into her little bag she saw a new page opened in her sketchbook. She inspected it further and saw a semi-good sketch of two hands and the note *my little witch - thank you for making me feel like the person I am ❤* “He saw everything in this sketchbook with the little notes.” She whispered in shock. She didn’t know if she should be mad at him for looking through her things or if she should be thankful ‘cause he seemed to feel the same way she did. Safe, connected, a little bit in love. The latter making her shudder at its unrealness. Nobody ever made her feel so at home and deeply connected in such a short amount of time. Harmony smirked as her brain formed a little plan.

She opened and closed her door loudly which made the boys down her hallway look outside their doors. “James Buchanan Barnes!” She said loud and clear with madness on her face. Steve and Clint looked behind them at James’ face that started to look like a big *Oh shit, what have I done.* “You went through my sketchbook without asking!” She yelled strutting towards him. The other boys clearly excited about someone finally stepping up to the assassin of the century. “I can explain.”He said with wide eyes. “Oh boy, you’re about to get your ass beaten.” Sam yelled from the next hallway and everyone collectively yelled back “Shut up Sam!” She grabbed James’ arm and dragged him to the elevators and into the first one that opened. After the door closed and they went down for a bit she pressed the stop button. “I’m sorry. I was just...I couldn’t sleep anymore and wanted to go to your room to get some more rest and then I saw it laying there wide open and I couldn’t keep my hands off of it.” He was actually afraid of her. The assassin of the century was afraid of her. “I mean it’s nice to see that The Winter Soldier is afraid of me, but I actually just wanted to scare you and tell you that the drawing is actually not that bad and I know that you’re having feelings for me cause I felt your emotions yesterday while doing my magic...and I just wanted to get you in here to do this without Steve being able to hear it.” She said before cupping his face, standing on her tiptoes and connecting their lips. He tasted like coffee and aftershave. His metal hand made its way into her hair while his other hand pressed her body closer to him. They moved apart completely overwhelmed at what just happened. “I should’ve told you when I had the chance yesterday but I didn’t know if it was too early or if you even felt the same and the sketchbook...answered that for me.” He continued to explain. “You’re still scared?” She asked chuckling. “You don’t understand how fucking frightening you look when you’re mad,” he mumbled looking down at her with semi-traumatized eyes. Both of them broke out into laughter before she hugged him. “You really feel like home. You did right from the start.”

With one hand around her waist he leaned forward and undid the emergency stop of the elevator with the happiest smile on his face. They needed to go all the way down before going up again so they had a little bit of time to chat. “You’re so good at art. Better than Steve may I add,” he said, grabbing her hand since she was still standing in front of him. Shortly after, she positioned herself beside him looking towards the elevator door that had just opened shortly after. “I would say we’re both on the same level. You can come to our next art session if you want.” She smiled up at him. “You have art sessions?” He asked confused. “When he went to the tower to be around the school kids I also went there and we just ended up drawing together. That’s why I have a sketch of myself in my notebook.” She had a content and permanent smile now. “Okay, before this thing opens I need to say one last thing,” he said after a short pause, “I didn’t feel like this since the early 40s. I was so confused feeling this. Sorry for concerning you yesterday.” Her thumb went over the back of his hand “Everything’s fine, soldier boy.” “Don’t call me that, little witch,” he said nudging her slightly with a big smile on his face before the elevator made a noise and their faces went back to normal.

The door opened and she rolled her eyes with a quick “Idiot” and a smile. The boys were still standing there and looked at the door opening in sync. “As if she is already back at normal again. I wanted to see him shocked like a deer when the door opens!” Clint joked around. Harmony took her hand away and walked towards them with a soft “You still need to sleep?” towards James which was answered with a headshake. “Your arm’s looking good Stevie,” she said while walking past them and pulling James into her room leaving the two boys with pure confusion. “Is Sam always such a weirdo? He seems fine as soon as you aren’t involved,” she asked him and got a wheeze back. “He likes to tease me here and there. Especially when I’m in trouble or ask for things,” he answered with a smile. “Well, he’s the last person that I’ll befriend here. What are your thoughts about Wanda, Vision and Nat? Better options?” She smiled and grabbed both arms of his. “Definitely better than Sam.” He chuckled putting his hands on her waist and silently kissing her forehead. “What do you think would be the best moment to talk to Wanda?” She asked with a normal voice but clearly gesturing between them and pointing to her door. “I’d wait a while...it’s about timing I guess,” he answered and got a smile back that healed a part of his soul he didn’t know existed. “Wanna train with me a bit?” she asked with a smile grabbing her book bag that she always had with her while doing magic now. “I never say no to watching you create magic.” he smiled back taking her hand with his metal one. She stepped forwards a little to give him a little silent kiss on his cheek “Well, let’s go then.”

This time she felt capable enough to try defense mechanisms with him. Green magic blocked him from getting to her or stopped his hands from moving every time he tried getting too close to “hitting” her. He felt a bit bad trying to hit her in the first place but she wanted to learn how to save herself if she ever was attacked again. She still lived with the fear that they were trying to get her. She currently was sitting on his shoulders after dodging him and looked at him upside down with a giggle “Hi.” “You are a fucking dork.” he smiled before she gave him a little kiss and catapulted him over herself with magic and landed normally. “Ouch.” he said while standing up again and having his metal arm readjusting itself. “You’re too easy to charm soldier boy.” she said with a cute smile on her face. “Don’t get too proud about being my weakness.” he chuckled. “Oh, I’m not. Actually quite the opposite. Never good to have a weakness like me. Means you need to protect it extra good so the person doesn’t get used against you.” she smirked. He stopped in his tracks suddenly feeling suspicion. “Wait…” he said now looking at her in disbelief. “Oh my god, NO! How can you think that! I actually meant what I said.” she yelled after realizing what he thought. “Sorry, I just...you’re looking into my mind like an open book and that sounded off and...there are a lot of cases where this was happening.” he tried to explain. “I could brainwash and kill all of you in seconds if I wanted to. That was never- You know what? Forget it.” she was a little bit upset and walked towards the door but he caught up and hugged her from behind. “You asked me yesterday if I trust you.” he started and moved her so he could look her into her eyes, “I do. I really do. But suspicion is part of my job. Trust is something you build.” he finished. “I trusted you with my life as soon as we talked.” she said still upset. “I do too...shouldn’t have questioned what you said. I’m sorry.” he mumbled against her forehead before kissing it.

After a long hug she broke the silence with a “Can I punch you? You kinda deserve it right now.” He broke into laughter “Sure, your tiny hands won��t do much without magic.” “Those tiny hands still know where it hurts. And those tiny elbows too.” she said punching his throat, turning, pressing her elbow into his sternum and pressing him to the ground from his crouched position. “I know you didn’t defend yourself because you don’t wanna hurt me but that was kinda fun.” she giggled with him laying on the floor looking up at her with a weak smile. “Where did you learn that?” he asked genuinely interested switching to laying on his back. “Self defense class. Had enough time to think about where to hit you. And you didn’t wear any protection. I wish you did cause these legs can kick.” she smiled. “Want me to teach you more of that if you ever need it in an actual spontaneous situation?” he asked sitting up. “Sure, but don’t get too turned on.” she said with a wink knowing how close they would be for next hour or two. “I have you on me like a koala 50% of the time. Do you really think I can’t control myself?” he said rolling his eyes. She got close and whispered “I’m unconscious 90% of that time, remember?” to tease him. The next two hours were filled with body warmth, punches and little kisses.

“Imma steal away all the lunch so you won’t get it.” she said in a childish tone as they left the training room and started running with a giggle. “I’ll get you!” he said daring and since he knew he was about thrice as fast as her if he really tried but he held himself back to match her speed. He grabbed her waist just before she could reach the door of the common area and threw her over his back which was matched with a squeal. He walked into the room with an unfazed look on his face and her squealing “James, that’s not fair play. Let me down!” The team mates that were in the room eating looked at this scene with surprise and James looked at them with a proud smirk. “How about I eat all the pasta by myself and you don’t get anything because I won.” he said with full asshole mode and a smile. The whole room went silent before he could feel his underwear being pulled up way too high and a round of laughter from the table behind him. “Don’t mess with a witch, she will always find a way.” Wanda said laughing. He let her down in front of him and shook his head “Dork.” She gave a short smile back before turning to the food and hearing the team start talking again. “Can we eat in my room?” she asked as quiet as possible and a little hum came back at her.

They both sat down on her big bed shortly after with their pasta and drinks. Their eyes met with a smile and a small “I love you, you idiot.” from her side before she started eating. It wasn’t a totally serious ‘I love you’ but it still hit him. His eyes didn’t leave her while eating, he was mesmerized by how effortlessly soft she looked while doing anything and he wondered if she would draw something from today. “Everything alright?” she asked after noticing him staring. “Yeah, you’re just...really mesmerizing.” he said softly with a short smile at her. “A witch being MESMERizing.” she giggled and put her empty plate aside before looking at his “Stop staring, start eating. Don’t want you to starve big boy.” she giggled again. He looked down at a half empty plate and continued eating while she grabbed her phone to play with it. There was a pleasant silence in the room and a soft smile on her face while she was scrolling through social media timelines. The only thing audible was the fork hitting the plate from time to time. Until it stopped again and he put the plate onto the other one. She was deep into reading something which gave him the opportunity to hover on top of her out of nowhere. She looked up from her screen “Oh hi! Didn’t see you there giant man.” she giggled and was silenced by a kiss. It was soft but full of passion making her close her eyes and letting her phone fall to the side to reach up to his neck. She answered with more feelings and longing which made his heart burst inside his chest before his kiss got very desperate and full of lust making her moan very softly. He broke the makeout session apart after hearing this, not out of concern, but because he felt it was inappropriate to go that far right now. He didn’t feel like he knew her well and long enough for that. Falling for her and kissing her already had been a process that moved way too fast. She made a sound of discomfort “It just got fun.” she mumbled and earned a loving smile from him. “I need to feel this out again, okay? You deserve all the respectful treating in the world little witch.” he said giving her a little kiss on the nose. “You’re cuter than you look. D’you know that?” she asked him softly and got a little chuckle back “Yeah.”

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 6 years ago

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Chapter 5 - (totally uninterested.)

There was nothing worse than being sick.

I normally didn’t mind it, really. I had a decent enough immune system that seemed to fight off most colds or bugs, but every once in a while I ended up knocked out in bed hoping that I would slip into a peaceful state of death--if only to escape the pain that coursed through my body.

What was the real kicker, however, is that this illness (whatever it was) had left me too sick to work two shifts at the information desk, and now, on top of that, I was missing a night of rock climbing that Alex had been planning for his birthday. Which actually meant I was missing quality time with Ethan and the group of weirdos I’d actually started to call (out loud) my friends.

Combine the pounding in my head with the pounding on my door and I would have thought I was in a bad dream.

Kristen was long gone--she’d set off for Harry’s apartment around 5pm when I insisted that she go and enjoy herself without me (leave me here to die alone, I’d told her). So when I moaned and reached for the remote to pause whatever was on Netflix (honestly I wasn’t even really watching), I pushed myself up and out of bed, hoping to God that it wasn’t a suitor at my door asking for my hand in marriage.

That couldn’t be worse timing.

I padded across our tiny dorm room and twisted the knob, opening the door slightly to reveal a head of long hair and dimples that seemed to be extremely cocky about the fact that I looked like shit.

“Can I help you?” I asked him, my tone flat and totally uninterested in whatever he was about to say.

At the sound of my voice, his smile faded, his eyebrows knit together, and he stepped forward, forcing me to open the door a bit more.

“I thought you were being dramatic when you said you were half dead,” he looked me up and down, taking inventory of the sweatpants and oversized t-shirt that donned the top half of my body. “But you actually look like you might be.”

I turned and headed back to my bed--unable to do much thinking if I had to focus on staying upright. Harry shut the door behind him and let out a laugh when I didn’t respond. “Alright, not responding to an insult means you’re actually incredibly ill. D’ya have a fever?”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly, laying back down on my lofted twin bed and closing my eyes to hopefully quell the throbbing. “Haven’t taken it.”

“D’ya have a thermometer?” He leaned forward and pressed his hand to my forehead, forcing me to open my eyes suddenly at the pressure. I reached my hands up and held onto his, the coolness of his skin actually seemed to help with the pounding.

“Don’t move,” I croaked out.

He let out another laugh, staring down at me--but still following orders. “I came to see if you were actually sick ‘cause tonight’s gonna be wicked.”

“Definitely sick,” I told him.

“I can see that.” He was quiet for a minute, his hand on my forehead as he stood over my bed. My arms covered my own face as I clutched onto his hand, feeling the cool metal of his rings against my fingers. “Was prepared to give you shit when I got here.”

I scoffed, immediately letting out a cough that caused him to pull his hand away from me and make a disgusted face. Fittingly, I let out a pout and stared up at him with sick eyes.

“Alright,” he rolled his eyes, moving his body to push himself up onto my bed.

I moved my legs aside, unsure of what exactly he was doing, but too tired to fight it. “Alright what?”

He shrugged his shoulders as he got situated, moving my legs to rest on top of his as he rested his back against the concrete wall of my dorm. “M’not gonna leave you here to wither away.”

I stared up at him, and the thought of our rules slid into my mind as I let out another cough. As if he knew what I was thinking, he let out a sigh as he reached for the remote to unpause the show on my TV that sat on the dresser at the end of my bed. “We were going to be hanging out tonight anyway. I’ll send Ethan a snapchat or something about me taking care of you, it’s fine.”

I didn’t reply, not only because I felt too sick to conjure up words or a dispute to his proposal, but also because I didn’t mind his company.

I didn’t care that he asked questions aloud (that went unanswered by me) as we watched a movie. I didn’t care that he seemed to talk to the characters as if they could hear him, and I certainly didn’t mind that every once in a while he looked over at me to make sure I was still breathing.

At some point, I woke up to a dark room, Kristen home and sleeping soundly across from me, the TV off, the shades drawn, and my phone plugged in beside me that read 2:43am. I did care, however, that Harry was gone.

“Hi babe,” Harry walked into the library with only three minutes to spare. I almost expected him to be late now, and I almost expected to get a text from him asking me to clock him in.

I hadn’t seen him for two days after he came to my dorm, and I think the space was necessary. For one reason or another, I didn’t hate Harry nearly as much as I did upon the start of the semester, so it felt like a good idea to keep a fair amount of distance.

I’d promised myself from the start that nothing would come of this. The only thing that was allowed to blossom out of this arrangement was Ethan’s love for me and his undying need to have sex with me between classes. That kind of thing I could live with.

What I couldn’t live with, though, was any sort of feeling of caring about Harry. I’d prepared today to have a chat with him about it--you know, where we were heading, how long we wanted to do it, if he had any more intel on whether or not Ethan was interested in consoling me upon our inevitable break up.

I’d started planning it out. Harry and I could have a fight right in front of him, maybe even in their apartment one night. He could say something mean to me and I could need comforting. Ethan, who’d undoubtedly be there, would be able to sweep in quite perfectly, and maybe I’d even end up spending the night at his place.

Harry would then be free to bang any air-headed bimbo he wanted (likely that Allie girl he’d seemed fond of the other week). And what did I care? He was obnoxious, self-centered, and just all around moody--so when he smiled at me with a toothy grin, I couldn’t help but wonder what on earth had him so happy.

He dropped his soccer bag on the counter and rounded it, coming to press a kiss to my forehead before freezing and pulling away with wide eyes. “Sorry--force of habit.”

I cleared my throat and turned back to the textbook that was open in front of me. “All good. By what grace of God did the stick that permanently resides up your ass get removed?”

He looked at me with a wrinkled forehead, clearly confused by my words.

“Why are you so cheery?” I asked again, keeping my eyes on the page as I tried to ignore the tight feeling in my chest as he sat down beside me.

“Eh, just having a good day. You seem to be not poorly anymore, nice weather, got a good mark on a test, and I’m sure it’ll be a fun weekend,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me.

Ah, the weekend that we’d all been waiting for. Well, sort of. Upon finding out that I was sick and Harry had bailed on the group rock climbing outing to hang out with me, the rest of our friends decided to scrap it altogether and rescheduled for a time when I could tag along.

Heartwarming, really, but the only problem was that there was no way I was climbing up a vertical wall while attached to wires with the possibility of plummeting to my death lingered close by.

Harry, of course, knew that I was absolutely dreading the night and would likely try to find another way to get out of it at the last minute.

“I’m still not feeling too great, honestly,” I lied, pressing a hand to my forehead as if I had the fleeting signs of a fever.

“Nora,” he narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re seriously so selfish that you would ruin Alex’s birthday because of your pointless aversion to rock climbing?”

“It’s not pointless,” I made a face at him and rolled my chair back, lifting my feet to rest them on the counter. “I could fall and chip a tooth, twist my ankle--I mean, one of us could die. I’m sure that that shit happens at these places.”

“No one’s going to die,” he said, lifting his phone to his face to swipe through a few snapchats. I could see that two were from some girl--a brunette who apparently had no worries about showing off her cleavage in a quick picture to Harry (and likely some other boys as well), while one was from Ethan.

“Snap him a picture of me,” I said, reaching to poke at Harry’s arm.

He looked at me with a decidedly unimpressed stare, but then turned his phone to point the camera at me. I tilted my head and gave him a playful smile, and then he clicked send before I could even see the photo.

“Harry, you didn’t even show me! What if I looked like shit?”

“You didn’t look like shit, Nora,” he let out a small laugh, but was mainly focused on replying to whatever text he’d pulled up on his screen.

“Sure--okay, I probably just have fourteen chins and looked like a man but it’s fine, I’m sure I looked fine,” I groaned, shaking my head as he turned to look at me.

“You about finished?”

“Well it’s already sent so now he’ll never want to date me if he thinks I’m ugly.”

I knew I was being dramatic--that was part of the fun about bothering Harry. “You didn’t look ugly. You never look ugly.”

I pulled my head back, waiting for him to unleash some sort of weak insult to piss me off. Instead, he left it at that. You never look ugly.

He could feel my eyes on his face, so eventually, he peered back at me, mimicking the words I’d uttered a few nights before when he showed up at my dorm. “Can I help you?”

“No,” I said quickly, turning back to my textbook to force myself to get some work done. “You’re distracting me. I have to study--so please, shut up.”

What on earth am I supposed to wear to climb rocks?

And that’s a loaded question, mind you. It will also be the outfit I die in.

You’re not going to die. Just wear like gym clothes or something.

Just shorts and a t-shirt?

You might be cold.

Leggings then. Sweatshirt? What are you wearing?

Joggers and a sweatshirt.

I don’t have a good rock climbing sweatshirt.

Can I borrow one? That gray one you have with the nike thing on the front?

I’m wearing that one!! Pick another.

Ugh.

Don’t you have a bigger AU one? Can I wear that?

Of course.

The rock climbing gym wasn’t a far subway ride from campus. In fact, we’d managed to make it on time despite the fact that Ryan couldn’t find his keys and Alex had been late to get out of class. But now, in the gym that seemed to smell a bit like a locker room (and look like one, too), I was stood beside all of them as we prepared for our adventure (death).

“What are you so freaked out about, Nora?” Niall’s voice sounded like he was about to dare me to climb to the top of Mount Everest. Which, as far as I was concerned, he might as well have.

He clapped some chalk on his hands as Harry handed me a harness and held it while I stepped inside. Ethan and Kristen were beside us, Ryan and Alex were in the bathroom.

“She’s terribly freaked-out by heights,” Kristen answered for me, her long blonde hair up in a stylish pony-tail behind her head. I shot her a look, silently cursing her for outing me to a bunch of boys who’d never understand.

“You’re afraid of heights?” Harry asked with a giant smirk on his face, doing his best to keep his laughter in as Niall slapped at his knee on the other side of me.

“That’s hilarious, Hanson. Never woulda pegged you as a girl who couldn’t handle some rock climbin’,” Niall spoke.

“I can handle it,” I retorted quickly, looking over to Ethan who was clearly amused. “And I’m not super freaked-out by heights,” I corrected my roommate, giving her another death glare as she fastened her harness tighter around her waist.

Alex and Ryan reappeared from the bathroom and stepped into their gear.

“I’m afraid of small heights.”

“Small heights?” Ethan asked, his eyebrows raised tentatively as he smirked up at me and he tied his shoe.

“Small heights,” I nodded, looking around to see if anyone else understood what I meant. Harry and Niall stared on, waiting for me to enlighten them. “Like, if I’m on top of the Empire State Building and I fall, I’m going to die. Fine, no problem.”

Harry’s face twisted to let me know that he thought I was just as crazy as ever.

“But if I fall from one of these walls, I’ll break both legs and be paralyzed or something.”

They all seemed to stare at me. Kristen, Harry, Niall, Ryan, and Alex seemed to be perplexed by my fear--but Ethan shrugged and gave a slight nod as he stood from the bench. “I get that, I mean, I guess your option is either being paralyzed or dying. Being paralyzed would fucking suck.”

Harry didn’t hide the annoyed look on his face as he rolled his eyes--just bitter that I had Ethan (of all people) to back me up. “Alright, yeah, well, you’re crazy,” he gave me a pat on the back.

“You’re the one datin’ her,” Niall reminded.

I shot Harry a playful grin at this and Kristen let out a laugh.

“Alright, enough fighting like a married couple,” Alex prompted, heading over to the first wall we could climb.

The gym was set up in sections--starting with the easier walls towards the front and harder ones in the back. I watched as Niall and Ryan (in a very cocky manner) skipped right over the first two walls and made their way towards a more intermediate version.

“Start here?” Kristen offered, her eyebrows raised in an offer to stay behind with me even if the boys jumped ahead.

I nodded, looking down to make sure I was secure enough in my harness to clip onto the rope that hung from above. Harry stepped forward and pulled the rope towards me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching as he took it and clipped it to the front of my harness as Kristen did the same for herself.

“What do you mean?” He asked, the look on his face communicated that we weren’t on the same page.

“You can go with the rest of them, Harry, you don’t have to stay here.”

He shrugged his shoulders and reached for his own rope. “S’fine. I’ll catch up.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” Kristen giggled, walking towards the wall to pull herself a foot off of the floor.

“She knows?!” Harry’s face was squished into an expression of anger as his lips pouted out.

Another laugh from Kristen as she climbed higher, leaving us safe on the ground. I shrugged and tried not to smile. “What was I going to do? Let her seriously think that I’m dating you?”

“Oh Nora,” he shook his head, rolling his eyes a bit as he made an attempt towards the wall. “You’d be so lucky.”

“Yeah, ditto. If this were all real you’d get more action out of me, ever think of that?”

I turned to watch as he placed his foot on the lowest rock, reaching his arm up to follow Kristen as she neared the top of the ten foot wall. How in Christ’s name had she gotten that high? Harry ignored my comment, only flashing me a smile as he ascended the wall, leaving me to question my own sanity as I contemplated joining them.

It couldn’t be too hard, right? I watched as they both did it. Hand, foot, hand, foot. I may not have been the most athletic person on the planet, but I could handle it. I could absolutely climb to the top of a ten foot wall just to make them happy.

I placed my first hand on a blue rock, watching as Kristen stayed put where she was, smiling down at me over the fact that I was facing my fear. She hated that she had to hang all of the posters in our room because I refused to climb on top of our desks.

I went slow--I didn’t need her getting any ideas that I’d now be the desk-top champion of dorm room decorating.

I made a few moves, enough that I was definitely off of the ground and closer to their feet as I willed myself to not look down.

“You’re like two feet off of the ground,” Harry spoke from above me, his words more annoying than reassuring.

“Oh shut up,” I barked back, hoping he’d let me climb in serene silence. His narration would only make me more uptight.

“You’re good, Nora, just take it slow.” Kristen was a real friend--she loved me despite my fears and was encouraging me--not belittling me.

All of a sudden, my wires shook, causing me to reach for higher rocks and cling to the wall, all while Harry laughed hysterically.

“Harry! You’re actually an asshole,” Kristen called, leaning over to try and give Harry a shove.

Harry let go of my wires when I looked up, trying to hide the fact that he’d been the one to give me a shake. I glared up at him, the color completely drained from my face.

“Oh relax, she’s secured in and clearly,” he motioned down at me, “she’s fine. She hasn’t fallen and she’s still has complete control over her lower extremities.” He let out another laugh at my fear of paraplegia.

Kristen lowered herself down, coming to meet me at my location on the wall--which, unfortunately (as Harry had so sweetly informed), was only about two feet off of the ground. “Are you okay?”

Harry had descended now too, a smile on his face as he stopped beside me.

“I’m fine,” I told Kristen. I turned to give Harry a dirty look. “But you actually fucking suck.”

He let out another amused laugh, obviously proud of his joke as he dismounted the wall and unclipped from the ropes. I did the same, letting Kristen unhook me.

“You lived, Nora, you survived rock climbing,” he laughed, walking backwards as he headed for the boys.

I lifted my hand in the air and gave him the finger, to which he blew a kiss in response.

When I wandered my way over to the couch in Harry’s apartment later that night after rock climbing, I’d decided that I wasn’t mad anymore. I mean, sure, Harry was intolerable at times and he definitely knew how to irk me in just the right way, but two hard ciders and some take out pizza later and I was in a much better mood. Harry paying for my share definitely helped.

I’d sat the rest of the night out, watching as Kristen climbed higher than both Niall and Ryan--which she was incredibly proud of, and they were incredibly offended by. I was also appreciative of the fact that Kristen seemed markedly less anxious lately, which I chalked up to a combination of less course work, a good group of friends, and fun outings that she simply couldn’t resist.

“Not so grumpy anymore, yeah?” Harry slunk an arm around my shoulder as I plopped down beside him.

Ethan was sitting on the floor only a few feet away, watching as Alex and Ryan played a game of FIFA. I saw him, however, peer over when Harry pressed a kiss to my temple.

I didn’t reply to his question--instead, I finished the last of my drink and handed him my empty can. He took it with a laugh and placed it on the end table beside him.

He leaned forward, placed a hand on my thigh, and brought his lips to my ear. “Ethan was just as shit at climbing as you were--and he understood your ass backwards fear. Maybe you are meant to be.”

I let out a laugh, pulling back to make a face. “It’s about time you got on board.”

Niall, who appeared in front of us with a piece of pizza in his mouth, handed each of us another drink. Harry--who’d likely already had three beers in the time span in which I’d had two--accepted it graciously.

“I’ve been in board this whole time. I’m doing you a favor, after all.” He opened the beer and took a sip.

“It’s mutually beneficial, asshole. No one needs to find out about your criminal history.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward again. This time, though, he stood up and looked over his shoulder as he walked towards his bedroom. Ethan, who’s eyes were still on me, watched as I stood and followed behind him.

I didn’t know if Harry had intended for me to follow him, but when I stood in the doorway to his room, he turned to offer me a smile as he pulled his t-shirt off from over his head. “Will I ever be getting that back?” He motioned to the sweatshirt of his that I had on.

I looked down at it, wrapping my arms around myself as I shrugged. “It’s a good one.”

He pulled on another shirt and sat on his bed, leaning back as he pulled out his phone to check a message. “Looks good on you--you can keep it.”

My heart was suddenly in my throat, and I was thankful that he wasn’t looking at me. I had no idea what had come over us--suddenly we were friends and acting like all of this was normal and like it wasn’t completely, 100% fake.

But it was--that’s what I had to remind myself. None of this would be happening if Harry and I hadn’t agreed to do this. Kristen and I wouldn’t be grabbing late night milkshakes with Alex and Ryan, and Harry and I currently wouldn’t be exchanging clothes.

There’d be no rock climbing or FIFA or pizza and beer in the living room. There’d be no texting back and forth outside of work and there’d certainly be no heart pounding in my chest as Harry stood, clicked his phone shut, and walked to meet me in the doorway.

When I didn’t move, his forehead dipped in concern. “Y’okay?”

Instead of responding, instead of telling him that maybe, no, I wasn’t, because I was officially that girl, I brought my hands to his face, leaned forward, and kissed him.

He kissed me back for a second, a hand on my waist as I felt him step forward. But then, a step back, a confused look, and my mouth immediately started yammering away.

“Sorry, jesus, I’m sorry--I shouldn’t have done that, I--”

“Nora, hold on,” he held a hand up, the look on his face told me that his thoughts were racing just as fast as mine were. “I thought we were just--”

“We are. Just friends--pretending. I just thought maybe Ethan was looking,” a lie and he knew it. He shook his head but I didn’t let him speak. “Sorry, I won’t do that again.”

“Do you still want to do this? Are we still pretending?”

I didn’t know what he meant--there were two ways he could have been saying that. Are we still pretending? Are we still pretending that there are no feelings and we’re just coworkers who are both getting something out of this? I get to hang out with Ethan, Harry gets me to clock in for him and cover with our boss, that suddenly he wasn’t the person I wanted to text at the end of the day to tell him the stupid thing Kristen and I had done or the horrific amount of homework from my marketing class?

Or are we still pretending? Are we still moving forward with this plan? Are we still fake dating and eventually we’ll fake break up and hopefully, hopefully, Ethan will be the person who I can take comfort in?

Instead of answering him, I turned and walked back towards the living room. I grabbed my coat on the sofa, grabbed my purse on the table, and headed for the front door. “I’ll see you later, Kristen,” I called over my shoulder, not pausing to turn around.

If I did, they’d see the look on my face that said I didn’t know the answer. I didn’t know if we were pretending. I didn’t know if Harry and I were pretending and I didn’t know if we were moving forward with it. I didn’t know anything--except for the fact that when I turned to shut the door to the apartment, Harry was slipping out behind me.

“Nora, will you hold on a second and talk to me?”

“I got too into it, Harry. I was selling it too hard and I thought I heard footsteps in the hallway so I just did it. It was stupid and I broke rule six. I’m sorry.”

His eyes searched my face as he processed my words. He looked from my eyes to my mouth and over my shoulder before looking back at me and shaking his head slightly. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Harry.”

Another ‘okay,’ as I turned to walk away. My heart was still in my throat.

Where are you? Not coming in?

Hello?

Should I clock in for you or are you not coming at all?

I’ll tell Jessica you’re sick.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles uni au #harry styles fiction #harry styles fan fiction #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #totally uninterested

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365daysofsasuhina · 6 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Fourteen: Contempt ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, vulgarity ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

He’s used to it by now. The glares, the whispers, the contempt. In the grand scheme of things, he doesn’t care. People will think of him what they will. Never mind the fact that, without him, the world would have ended and they’d all be brainless mokuton zombies.

Before his final confrontation with Naruto, he’d resigned himself to being hated: the necessary evil the world would need to keep it on the correct course. Even now, with his path forcibly changed, he keeps the same opinion of himself. He’s done what he’s done. There’s no erasing or changing the past. All he can do now is move forward...even if those who criticize him clearly can’t do the same.

For now, as his brother recovers, he finds himself in a state of limbo. Returned to Konoha far earlier than he’d ever wanted, and yet...now with reason to stay. But in the same breath...purposeless. All he knows is that, in some way, he needs to ensure Konoha changes for the better. If his brother, and his brother’s family, are to remain here...it must be safe. Primarily for them...but also for everyone. No one else deserves to go through what the Uchiha went through.

So they won’t.

Not if he has anything to say about it.

All that remains is how to actually accomplish it. Already, before he’s even able to walk, Itachi has talked about plans to rejoin the ANBU. Work in the shadows, as he has for so long. It suits him, Sasuke can’t help but agree. Would such work be a wise choice for him as well? It would mean avoiding the public eye. Eliminating threats against the village without recognition, with most of the populace completely unaware anything is even wrong to begin with. Such is the ANBU’s role.

...but that doesn’t quite feel right.

Because once Itachi’s revival is made public...Sasuke can only assume there will be just as many, if not more, who won’t bother to censor their distaste and hatred against Itachi and his actions, even if they were village-sanctioned. To them it won’t matter: that he acted in their interest, that he gave up his life, his home, to keep them safe from the outside. No...they’ll just see a murderer and a traitor, no matter what reasons they give.

It’s the same for him, after all.

Even his own friends - or, so-called friends - have changed. Not that he blames them...but it just goes to show how shallow those feelings are...and have been. Never any offer to help avenge his clan. To bring them justice. Even after Naruto and Sakura were told Itachi’s truth, and the role Konoha played in his clan’s demise...they still sought to drag him back. To chain him in the place that had deemed his family too selfish and dangerous for simply being willing to fight for equal treatment.

And once they saw how far he’d go to change that...everything changed. Naruto still insists they’re best friends. But what kind of best friend says nothing of sanctioned genocide? Even now there’s been no offer to find justice...so Sasuke will just take it himself when the time comes. But this time, he’ll do it right.

Sakura, too, has changed. She avoids him, he can tell...and yet when they end up together, she still puts on that facade-like smile and flirty nature. Does she really still hope for him to love her? After all that’s happened between them? She openly tried to kill him. And he did the same to her. Sakura has seen better than anyone his instability, and willingness to sacrifice what he must to reach his goals.

Her continued affections honestly make him sick. Even now, knowing what she knows, she clings to the boy she never really knew: only idolized, and falsely.

For now...he considers them both strangers. It’s for the best, he’s convinced. They’re not going to do each other any good as they are...and Sasuke has far more pressing priorities.

And yet...funnily enough, the only person beyond his family that seems to tolerate him - maybe even like him - is someone he’s barely spoken a word to.

Hyūga Hinata.

He remembers her, like he remembers everyone. Shy, reserved, weak...and trailing after Naruto. It’d seemed like she’d had some kind of crush on him back then, but...you wouldn’t guess so now. He’s assuming that time wasn’t kind to her in that regard. It’s rather clear Naruto’s still hung up on Sakura, even if Sasuke suspects it started just as shallow in nature as Sakura’s affections for him: born out of jealousy and rivalry. As far as Sasuke’s concerned...Naruto can have her. They suit each other, in more ways than one.

Hinata’s grown a lot, he’ll admit. Physically, and mentally. She can speak to the blond now without issue, though Sasuke still notices the somber tinge to the smiles she gives him.

And given her friendship with Itachi’s wife...she was one of the first people to know the truth behind the elder Uchiha brother’s actions.

As such, she seems more...aware than anyone else. As someone from a clan, she knows their politics well. And as someone who struggled with her family as a child...she knows what it means to have been looked down upon. By her father, by someone she called brother...she might not have lost that family, but in a sense, she’d been cut off from it.

So rather than contempt...she offers him understanding. Not sympathy, which he doesn’t want...but she doesn’t treat him like a maniac. Like an explosive tag about to go off, walking on eggshells. She just...talks to him.

...and maybe he appreciates that a lot more than he thought he would.

Naruto had always been butting heads with him. Sakura couldn’t go two words without batting her eyes. Orochimaru had always had that hunger when the spoke. Suigetsu had been a tease, Karin an obnoxious flirt...and Jūgo, well...he just didn’t say much at all.

Neither does Hinata, in all fairness. But she’s quiet in the same way Sasuke is. No need to fill the air with noise. Just...sit and enjoy the atmosphere. And only speak when there’s really a need, or something on her mind.

So it’s really no surprise when he just starts...ending up in her presence. After all, they both end up third wheeling it rather often where Naruto and Sakura are concerned. Of course, Hinata has her teammates to tend to as well. And her family, as Sasuke does. But on his end, at least, he has few to go to when it comes to company his age.

Of course...that comes with its consequences.

Even something as harmless as stopping to chat outside a shop brings up the realization: it’s not just Sasuke that gets targeted by his aggressors. It’s anyone he spends time with.

Standing idly with a hand resting on the butt of his sword, he’s simply having a conversation with her when someone bumps him from behind. A glance shows one in turn, a few shinobi looking back over their shoulders at him sourly. Sasuke doesn’t otherwise react, straightening and simply pretending it didn’t happen.

Hinata, on the other hand, stares after them with an open glower.

“Leave it, Hyūga.”

“But that was so ru-!”

“I know. But if you pick every fight I run into every day, you’d run yourself ragged.” He can’t help a small hint of amusement in his features. “Don’t worry ab-.”

Thwack

Hinata can help a gasp as a splatter of mud drenches down the front of her lilac shirt. Staring at the mess for a moment, she completely misses the blur of movement that is Sasuke. In a blink, he’s across the street, holding the culprit to a building with a forearm against his neck. His unhidden eye glows a furious red.

“...that was uncalled for,” he offers in a voice far too calm for his expression. There’s no acknowledgement of the shocked people around him, clearly on edge. “Why don’t you go over there and apologize to the lady...before I change my mind and just coat your shirt with healthy helping of blood…?”

“Sasuke-kun, don’t!” A pleading hand tugs at his shoulder.

He ignores her. “...look, asshole. Do what you want to me. But leave my friends out of it. Because as much as I couldn’t give a shit what you do to me...I’m not gonna be happy when you drag someone I care about into something that’s got nothing to do with them. Got it?”

Pale as a ghost and looking ready to cry, the guy just give a jerky nod, sliding down to his rear when Sasuke releases his hold. Nonchalant as ever, he lets his kekkei genkai fade. “...c’mon Hyūga. We’re done here.”

Glancing between the two, she eventually trots after him. “Was...was that wise…?”

“Hn?”

“I mean...people already are afraid of you. Really, you didn’t have to do that. Not if it’ll only make things harder on you.”

“I’ve had a lot worse happen to me than someone taunt me. Especially someone I can lay flat on their ass in a blink.”

“...but…?”

“What pissed me off was involving you. My mistakes and actions have nothing to do with you. And they need to know better than do that, even if it means giving me more shit. I can handle it.” A dark eye glances to her. “...you don’t deserve that.”

“...well neither do you.”

“A lot of people would beg to differ.”

“Well...screw them.”

A brow lifts at her language.

“...you’ve done wrong in the past, sure. But you’ve moved on, and you’re changing for the better. Continuing to treat you like that is wrong...and doing so in the first place isn’t any better.”

Watching her as they walk for a few paces, Sasuke eventually snorts.

“...what?”

“...nothing.”

Huzzah, two weeks down! And I actually had an easy time with this prompt, just...had a busy day, hence the late posting! Anywho, this one's...pretty straightforward. Sasuke honestly couldn't care less what people do to him. But mess with someone he cares about - someone who doesn't deserve it - and you've got a storm coming, bud! Sooo...yeah! I guess that's it for tonight - thanks so much for stopping by and reading!

#uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #sasuhina #blood //#vulgarity //#a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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