#and yeah she will probably mention the situation out of pettiness should they ever get into arguments in the future

[heartofstanding]

The thing about historical fiction is that it’s nearly always so disappointing because the history itself is really interesting! There’s a really dramatic plot there, waiting to get out, and yet the book is so boring. The author has wasted all that potential.

“Henry mentions that Hal has been taken in by Richard, but that he isn’t worried about him" lol omg no wonder Hal is evil is that’s the level of parental care he’s getting (and I bet it’s not because Henry is like “Richard wouldn’t hurt a child” since that would require O’Brien to say something nice about Richard II). And, like, even if Henry believed that, it only really rules out Richard as a source of danger to his son.

Anne Curry, iirc, argues that Hal going to Ireland with Richard was probably the first time they were in close contact (i.e. Hal hadn’t resided in Richard’s household until the Irish campaign) and probably wasn’t a hostage situation but a case of Hal being blooded in warfare as per the norm for a boy of his age (I also suspect that if Richard felt he needed a hostage to prevent Henry from breaking his exile, he probably wouldn’t have left England). Plus all evidence we have of Hal’s relationship with Richard is one of respect and affection. Sure, it might be propaganda on Hal’s part (as Paul Strohm argues) but if there was danger or threat in their relationship, Hal was the victim and I think we should take him at his word rather than clutching at pearls to see danger.

Alas, poor John (and his growing feet) though maybe it’s for the best that he wasn’t featured more.  Though it’s interesting that he wasn’t since I think he was pretty much the one who was in charge of England when Joanna was arrested? Again, an interesting avenue to explore but of course we don’t get that! Yeah, kids are really just treated as accessories in a lot of histfic novels - Queen of the North had Elizabeth Mortimer being heavily motivated by the loss of her son (since Northumberland took him into exile with Scotland) and I expected we’d get an epilogue when they were reunited except... nope, lol. Gotta focus on the romances instead.

God, that Edward subplot sounds so weird. Like, excellent that he’s included but “OMG YOU CHEATED ON ME WHEN WE WEREN’T EVEN IN CONTACT” is SO WEIRD. Does she also consider Henry’s children from his first marriage as cheating?

lol, yeah, Nathen Amin goes on Twitter about how Humphrey basically invented  factionalism and that factionalism caused the Wars of the Roses and it’s like... yeah, that petty bitch Henry Beaufort who is said to have asked Henry IV to abdicate in Henry V’s favour had nothing do with factionalism, ever. He was just an innocent bystander. I can buy him being two-faced but if Joanna’s as politically astute as O’Brien says, I’d expect her to notice that.

YES. Like, a lot of debate about Henry V is “was he a good man? if no, he can’t have been a good king” which is, uh, missing the point. Leaders are faced with incredibly difficult and complex decisions, there is no black/white morality to rely on. Like, the killing of the prisoners at Agincourt is depicted this way - it’s a war crime, ergo Henry V is a war criminal and a monster. But as Juliet Barker says, as repugnant as it might be in humanitarian or chivalric terms, it’s quite a different view from a strategic perspective. But yeah, there’s a lot of things about Henry V that are interesting and potentially monstrous that would make for a charming villain-monster that we love to hate (ala Shakespeare’s Richard III) but people just go for the psychopathic tyrant that makes little sense in reality. Jean Plaidy is an incredibly bland writer but yeah, The Star of Lancaster does it better.

The Queen’s Choice by Anne O’Brien

The Queen’s Choice is a pretty average novel, with some good tidbits and some things that got under my skin. But it’s main problems aren’t bad history (though there is some of that), but bad writing. It has the same problem that a lot of historical fiction in the vein of Philippa Gregory has, where the heroine of the novel is not necessarily present at a lot of historically significant moments. The way to counteract this problem is by making her the focus of her own plot, so we aren’t left with nothing but a conspicuous absence. The Queen’s Choice goes in the opposite direction– almost every important plot element happens off screen. Even the choice the novel is named for happens only in exposition. Joanna’s imprisonment happens after a six year time skip, so it truly comes out of nowhere. The battle of Shrewsbury, the execution of Archbishop Scrope, most of Henry and Joanna’s marriage takes place in letters or single sentences that get cast aside. It conveys, perhaps more than Anne O’Brien intended, that Joanna was a Queen with nothing to do and no importance. Which makes it increasingly laughable every time Joanna is praised for her political knowledge and ability to give good counsel, when we never see her express either attribute and she gets shot down whenever she tries. This Joanna is ironically far less active than any of the information about her indicates, and her characterisation is too flat to give her any other impact.

To put it frankly, it reads like fanfiction– not just because it’s an easy read, but because it feels like a companion piece, the kind of fic you write about a side character you like but who isn’t very involved in the main plot. If you don’t already know this time period in depth, you won’t have any idea what is going on. 

Little Details I liked

Keep reading

[mrvlbimbo]

Play to Win, pt 1

Frank Castle x reader

Masterlist here

On the subject of pizza topping and Yankees games

Being a lawyer in New York city was like being a farmer in Iowa. There was no shortage of legal professionals in the city. You couldn't throw a rock in New York without hitting a lawyer. 

And here they were, two of the best lawyers in New York, situated in the same room. Her bedroom to be exact, since he had decided to crawl through the window in his full vigilante suit. 

She thought he looked absurd with the tacky devil horns sticking up from his helmet. Ever since she found out about his hobby, she had thought it was stupid. That might have been part of the reason she was pissed, or it could have something to do with him breaking into her house in the middle of the night and interrupting her work. “Murdock!” She greeted, gritting her teeth in annoyance. “You couldn’t have called?” she grumbled, setting down the documents she was looking through to focus on getting him out of her apartment. 

“I was in town. Figured I’d pop by,” he shrugged, stumbling through the door into her living room and making himself comfortable on the couch. 

She got out of bed and followed him. “Is that code for I need a favor?” 

His mask didn’t cover his mouth so she could see his stupid smirk. There was a time in her life she would feel bad punching that look on his face, but that empathy was waning.“Just here to see an old friend,” he chided.  

“We’re not friends. You’re my arch rival,” she snapped sarcastically, walking past him to the drink cart in the corner of the room.  

“I have a case,” he offered, finally getting down to business as to why he had shown up out of nowhere.  

“I have my own job,” she countered, pouring two glasses of whatever whiskey was already open.  

She handed him the glass and he accepted with a nod. “You’re the best lawyer I know.” He was trying to butter her up but it wasn’t going to work, she was used to hearing how good she was at her job. It was nothing new. 

She also knew Matt hid a disastrous ego under his humble facade. “Bullshit. You’re the best lawyer you know, Franklin is a close second,” she said, making mention of his partner, who he should be talking to about this instead of her.  

“Everyone calls him Foggy,” he corrected.  

She rolled her eyes at him being contrary. He was always like that, never agreeable even when he wanted something from her. It was endearing in a way or else she would have kicked him out the second he barged in.“Just being professional, you’re here about a case right?” 

“It’s more of a social visit.” And there it was again, that shit eating grin. She wondered how he hadn’t gotten killed yet, purely from annoying some petty criminal into snapping. Because she felt inclined to take the glass in her hand, smash it against his head full force, and then promptly go back to bed. Maybe that’s why he wore that stupid helmet, to protect him from angry women at their witts end with him. 

“Oh. In that case, can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps a taxi home?” she spat, tossing the glass at him which he easily caught and set on the coffee table. 

He didn’t seem phased, just continuing on with his spiel about this great case he was trying to pitch to her. “It’s a big one.” 

She almost doubled over with sarcastic laughter at that. Yeah, it was a big case. But it was also a big mistake for anyone who wanted to maintain a shred of their dignity and career. “Oh I've heard. Trial of the century. The Punisher. It’s career suicide, Matt. I’ll be praying for you,” she mocked, standing up to pace the apartment in frustration.  

He stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her by the forearms and forcing her to look at him. It would probably have more of an effect if half of his face wasn’t covered but it was better than her staring at the modern art hanging over her kitchen sink. “They want to give him the death penalty. We both know that’s not right,” he pleaded.  

“I don't get paid to decide what is right. I get paid to prove that my client is less than 50% liable for whatever circumstance they’ve gotten themselves into,” she countered, unwilling to give up her principles and give in to his righteous mission. She respected what he did but she got into law to win, this wasn’t a case that she felt like she could win. 

“When they say lawyers are sharks they’re talking about you,” he grumbled, loosening his grip when he noticed her heart rate speeding up.  

She sighed at his comment, knowing he was right. She wasn’t proud of the work she did in a traditional sense. She liked being in a courtroom but she didn’t even want to look at half her clients. Law was her passion but it was also her job and the way she did it, it was a very profitable job. “I’m not a shark. I’m a vulture.” 

“Do you ever get tired of fighting for people who don’t deserve it?” He asked, clearly just trying to bother her at this point. She knew he had an issue with the way she did things but this was just him being mean. 

“You think this guy deserves it?” she scoffed, recalling the brutal news footage she had seen of The Punisher. Despite her specialty being corporate law, she wasn’t opposed to a little gore. But Matt had always been a better Catholic, and she knew his feelings about killing. 

“Meet him. Just for a half hour. I’ll pay twice your regular consulting fee,” he finally said, letting go of her arms and stepping back. 

The offer of money made her ears perk up like a bloodhound. She shook his hand and shooed him out of her apartment, telling him to text her the details later. Sure, she had no real intention of taking the case but the money was enticing. 

The next day at 8pm sharp he met her at the facility his client was being held. As they made their way through the halls, she tried to make conversation. “I have stayed out of jail thus far. But I always knew it would be you who got me here. Just thought it would have something to do with your extracurriculars,” she teased. 

He nodded and led her into a room with a table and three chairs, two on the side closest to the door and another on the other side of the table. 

When Frank Castle was brought into the room he did not look at Matt. Barely glancing at the woman sitting next to him before sitting down and turning his gaze to the wall behind them. 

He was an exceedingly large man. Broad and tall, she had no question he was a killer and a good one just from the way he walked into the room. He wasn’t cocky, he didn’t even bother to stand up straight. Not that it made him any less intimidating. Her idea of him was that he was a perpetually angry guy but sitting in front of him she could see it was more of a resigned stoicism. There was lingering passion in his eyes, but more than that there was an emptiness. 

Matt prompted the man with questions, only being answered with grumbling and a harsh glare. “We’re not getting anywhere. Do you want me to grab you something from the vending machine?” he offered, starting his brilliant plan to get her involved with the case. 

He knew she didn’t like to lose. But even more than that she loved a challenge. She didn’t like the idea that she couldn’t do something and she hated doing what other people wanted. When she realized how little Frank Castle wanted to be involved with this case, she would make it her number one goal to weasel her way into his psyche and force him to take it seriously. 

She glanced over at him, nodding briefly. “Ooh, skittles please. And if you take it out of my paycheck I’m gonna sue you.” 

“I have a great lawyer,” he joked back, leaving the room and taking all the conversation that had been gracing the room with him. However one sided that conversation may have been. 

Growing tired of the silence, she attempted to engage with the man. “Look. Frank, right?” she asked, she knew his name already but she figured it was a good place to start a conversation. 

He grumbled in the affirmative as an answer. She added that to the mental profile she was creating about him, he was grumpy. The word popping into her head almost made her giggle. Grumpy was such a passe word to use for a mass murderer, but it described him perfecrly. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do. But Murdock is paying me twice my normal rate and I want to take a trip to Italy this summer. The money adds up,” she rambled, hoping to prompt anything other than a muffled sound of anger out of him.  

He laughed at that. It wasn’t a friendly chuckle, it was a sarcastic and mocking laugh at the absurdity of what she had just said to him. He was sitting here locked up in prison, awaiting a trial that could end his life. And she was concerned about her vacation plans.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he spat.  

She didn’t hesitate, unphased by his rudeness. She had dealt with worse from clients. She had heard things that would be cause for their own lawsuit during this type of deliberation, a little bit of attitude wasn’t going to affect her. “Good. I think your case is a lost cause and there’s no way in hell I’m taking it. But I’m getting paid to be here so you can tell me your favorite pizza topping for all I care.” She glanced at her nails, examining the manicure rather than giving him the satisfaction of her attention. 

“Plain.” She imagined him in the little pizza shop by her apartment, ordering the plain pizza with his gruff gravely voice and sitting down at a table and fiddling with the checkered table cloth while he waited. 

She usually looked at her cases as just that, cases. They were words on paper to her. Principles she had learned in school and techniques she could use to win the case. But he wasn't one of her cases so there was no harm in thinking of him as a person with a domestic life where he stopped for takeout pizza and brought it back to his apartment to watch the game. “That tracks. I like olives. You a Mets or a Yankees fan?” She wasn’t sure where the interest about his life was coming from but if she was getting paid to have a typical first date conversation she wasn't going to complain. 

“Yankees,” he replied. 

“I like ya better already. A guy I used to date had season tickets but I broke up with him because he was a lousy lay. It’s a shame, they were good tickets.” She felt oddly comfortable talking to him. She likely wouldn’t see him again after this and it’s not like he was going to tell anyone else about their conversation. Most of the people he was seeing on a daily basis were people he’d prefer to be dead so he probably wasn’t striking up conversations with them. 

Murdock stepped into the room, instantly noticing some of the animosity was gone. He was quick to hand her the skittles and leave again, not wanting to interrupt. 

Once he was far away from the door Frank spoke again. “Have you ever killed someone?” He asked. 

“I’m a lawyer, I try not to commit crimes,” she replied, offering him a handful of skittles. He declined, making the effort to push her hand away rather than just shaking his head. The brush of his hand was surprisingly soft and warm, she ignored the urge to take his hand in hers. 

“It changes you. Makes each one easier. Soon it’s all you can think about,” he explained, his expressionless stare fixed on her face now. She liked the way he looked at her, like he had a purpose.  

“All? What about porn or like…Cinnabon?” she joked, trying to bring back some sense of casualty back to the conversation that he had quickly turned to the subject of murder. “I would kill people too if I couldn’t enjoy a good Cinnabon.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I'm not a good man, I just did what needed to be done.” His voice was serious, she felt like he was confessing something to her. She hated confessions usually, it made her job harder to know someone felt guilty. But he wasn’t expressing guilt, at least not in the typical sense. 

“I’m not morally opposed to murder so don’t think I’m sitting over here judging you. I’ve represented men far worse than you,” she offered, assuring him that he did not scare or disgust her.  

“Why?” he asked. 

“Money.” She shrugged and picked through the skittles until she found the last red one. 

“You’re nothing like him,” he commented, referring to her associate Matt Murdock. She laughed at that, of course he was expecting another one of Murdock’s peers telling him how they were going to try and help him because it was the right thing to do. 

“He doesn’t think so. That’s why I’m here. He thinks I’ll take pity on you and offer my services for your case. Spoiler warning, I’m not going to,” she asserted, trying to convince herself more than him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t find him and his case interesting and she was never great about her will power.  

“What if I asked you to?” he asked, with his words the last domino fell. She wasn’t going to let him know he had won right away, she had too much pride for that.  

“You don’t even want Murdock to be your lawyer. He’s better than me at this, but don’t tell him I said that.” She was carefully testing him, seeing if he was serious about his question. 

“I don’t want him. I want you.” She knew he meant he wanted her to be his lawyer, not anything else. But the way he said it in that deep voice sent a tingle down her spine. She pushed that into the very back of her mind, trying to be respectful since he was now a prospective client. 

She sighed, the weight of reality setting in. She was a goner, there’s no way her ego could resist this. He wouldn’t even talk to Murdock but he was practically begging her to represent him. “Ok. Tell me why you did it.” 

He turned away when he spoke again, not wanting her to see the look in his eyes. “My family was killed. I killed the people responsible.” They were both quiet for a second after that. 

She knew what she was about to say was a low blow after he told her something so personal, but she couldn’t help herself. “Because you were mad?” she questioned, prodding him a bit because she could tell he was getting worked up. That was part of the reason she was so good at her job, she could read people and she knew exactly what to do to get the response she wanted. 

“Because I wanted justice!” he yelled, standing up and slamming his hands down on the metal table. The force with which he hit the table looked like it hurt, she winced at the sound. 

“Don’t yell at me,” she said sternly, her eyebrows furrowing in discomfort. 

“Sorry. Not yellin’ at you. Didn’t mean to raise my voice,” he said softly, sitting back down when he noticed guards crowding around the door.  

She looked back at the small window of the room and gave them a nod, signaling everything was ok. “Ok I’ll bite. I know you can’t afford my price, so what happens if I take the case?” 

“So long as I’m alive I’ll bust out of whatever goddamn prison they put me in and take you to a Yankees game.” She was glad that they didn’t have an audio recording of whatever was said in the room because that wouldn’t look great for him. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Frankie,” she said finally, reaching out to take his hand in hers and shake it enthusiastically.  

A stupid smile lit up her face when he gave her hand a little squeeze in return.“Babydoll, call me that again and we’re gonna have a problem,” he practically growls, not able to hide the sideways smile on his own face.

“You wish,” she giggled, waving back at him as she left the room. Maybe taking this case would ruin her career, that possibility wasn't off the table. However, she couldn't help feeling like it might be worth it.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Always

Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.

Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing

Word Count: 3305

a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?

Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.

Masterlist

"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.

"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.

"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.

Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"

You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.

It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.

"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."

You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.

Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?

"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"

You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.

"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"

His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.

"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"

His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.

Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.

-

The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.

Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.

Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."

You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.

You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.

You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.

Hi Steve,

I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.

You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.

I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.

You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)

This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.

-

What the fuck?

You want to go back in time and stay there?

You want to leave me behind?

Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?

I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.

You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.

Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.

It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.

I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.

Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.

And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.

If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.

It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.

One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.

I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.

-

Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.

All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.

I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.

Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.

Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.

This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.

Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.

Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.

Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.

Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."

It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.

All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.

Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.

But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.

Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.

I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.

I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.

I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?

I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.

It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.

Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.

If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.

I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.

I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.

I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.

Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.

I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.

I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.

No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.

It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.

Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.

All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.

Forever yours,

Y/N

-

It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.

You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.

With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.

-

"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."

It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.

"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."

"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.

"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."

He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.

"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.

"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.

"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.

Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.

"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."

Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"

"Y/N, really just let me-"

"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."

"It's not." He cut in again.

"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."

The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.

"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."

"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"

"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.

"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."

It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.

"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."

"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.

"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.

"Y/N, I never meant for-"

"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.

"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.

"Y/N, please, I can't-"

"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.

"I'll love you always."

You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.

A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.

"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.

"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.

You nodded pitifully.

"Did he explain-" You cut him off.

"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."

"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.

The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.

"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."

You choked on another sob just thinking about it.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.

"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.

"Baby, please look at me."

You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.

"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.

"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.

"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.

"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."

New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"

"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.

"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.

"Always."

a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

[thestarrynightslover]

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 3,666

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse. 

Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?

You can find Part 2 here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.

“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”

“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.

“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.

“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:

“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.

Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"

"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.

“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.

“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.

“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.

“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.

“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”

“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.

“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.

“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.

“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.

“Unbelievable.” 

“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.

“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?

“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?

“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.

Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.

---

It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.

Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?

“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.

“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.

“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.

“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.

“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind. 

Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.

“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.

“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t. 

“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:

“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.

“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?

“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.

“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.

“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”

“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:

“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…

“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?

“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.

“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.

A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:

“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.

“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.

“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.

“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.

“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”

“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.

“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.

“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.

“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.

So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:

“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.

“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.

“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.

"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?

"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.

"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"

"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"

"I wouldn't say persecuting…"

"Oh, you wouldn't?"

"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier. 

"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"

"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.

“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.

“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.

“Oh, Harvey…”

“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”

“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.

“Wait, what news?”

“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.

“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”

“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”

“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”

“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.

“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.

If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay. 

[itgirlification]

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

_

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

_

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

_

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

[nctsjiho]

Explode

warnings: there’s 2 swear words in there and it’s a bit angsty this one

❀ There’s some unexplained tension between the 6 youngest members of Dream and JiHo

A bunch of testosterone and very strong-willed men was a recipe for occasional conflicts. Getting into fights with your friends was never fun. It was even worse when that friend was someone you had to work with, live with and see everyday. It happened from time to time that the boys butted heads, but usually it was a very dumb and small problem which got resolved before the end of the day. (Often because other members got involved to tell them their problem was just dumb and nothing worth fighting over.)

This time however seemed like a very different situation. It wasn’t a small fight between the two youngest members about a dance move. It also wasn’t someone who was jealous of another member because they forgot about hangout plans to chill with someone else. No this time seemed a lot more serious. The older boys watched as the room filled with tension. JiHo had just walked in, not even saying as much as a hi or giving a smile. It wasn’t like her and before anyone had to ask anything they sensed the second source of the tension. The 6 youngest Dream members were all sitting together, blank to annoyed facial expressions and most uncharacteristically, not even one of them was talking.

The older boys were all exchanging questioning looks, but it was evident that no one knew what was going on. They even looked at Mark, hoping that if anyone, he’d be the one to know what was going on since he was a member of Dream after all, but alas. He seemed the most dumbfounded of them all.

Taeyong was about to speak up, but before he could one of their managers walked in, ready to brief them on their upcoming schedules.

Once the meeting was over everyone made their way over to the biggest practise room. JiHo had settled on the couch next to Kun and Yangyang, quickly putting her airpods in her ears, a clear sign she didn’t want to engage in any conversation. Since JiHo wasn’t going to talk the older boys thought that they could try prying some information out of the Dreamies. Not wanting to step on anyone’s toes though, they all agreed that Mark should talk to the boys.

He carefully approached the boys who had been talking amongst themselves and sat down in between Jisung and Jaemin. They made some small talk before Mark carefully brought up the subject. “So, did something perhaps happen? With- you know? With-...” Haechan scoffed, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes before standing up and turning to his backpack to find his bottle of water. Mark tried making eye contact with Jisung and Renjun who avoided it as if their lives depended on it. The other 3 boys just shrugged when Mark looked at them with Jeno starting to play with the strings of his hoodie.

Mark stood up defeated and went to report his lack of information to Taeyong. They decided to leave it at that for a little since neither party was going to talk and they still had a long day to go. Imagine what it would be like if their petty stare down evolved into a huge fight.

It had neared 3 pm. The members had been practising for about 2 and a half hours before they got their break. JiHo had seemed to become a lot less tense but Taeyong decided not to act on it yet. He had recruited Lucas, Johnny, Taeil and Hendery to come with him to the convenience store and grab snacks and drinks for everyone with the hopes that it would brighten up the mood and give everyone some more energy for the coming hours of practise.

What he didn’t expect was that on his arrival back at the practise room, a whole bomb would have exploded. Accusations were thrown around, and glares were being sent out. Yuta and Jaehyun were holding JiHo back while Kun, Ten, Mark and Yangyang stood by the Dreamies, Doyoung standing in the middle like some kind of referee. The other members standing off to the side, not wanting to intervene.

You’d might ask why 2 men had to hold a tiny girl back. Well Taeyong was confused as well, until he walked closer to see the deadly stares of the girl. He wondered how the younger boys hadn’t given up on yelling yet, one of those looks in Taeyong’s direction and he’d apologise straight away, even if it wasn’t his fault. JiHo was unarguably the scariest when angry, but the Dreamies were notorious for being stubborn and talkative, not backing down in the slightest.

“-if she would stop talking behind people’s backs!” Renjun had yelled. The boys who just walked in didn’t have a clue about what already had been said prior or what had ticked them off to start fighting right then and there, but their main goal now was to resolve the problem. “Oh what would you know?” JiHo scoffed, but Doyoung came to interject. “What did she say then?” “Why don’t you ask her!” Haechan argued causing Doyoung to groan. “I asked you didn’t I?” “I don’t even know what I did to get you guys so pissed of at me.” The girl was calm. Eerily calm and it send shivers down Jaehyun and Yuta’s spines who were standing next to her.

“Sure you don’t!” Haechan chuckled, not that he found it funny, he just couldn’t believe JiHo was feigning innocence right now. She rolled her eyes before turning around and walking over to the couch in the back of the room. She plopped down on it and pushed her head back against the back of the couch, her hands coming up to slowly massage her temples.

“Can someone explain-” “How dare you call Jisung a fake maknae and talk bad about him behind his back?” Jaemin had finally spoken up, his voice low. This comment shocked everyone. No way JiHo did something like that right? But before they could say anything Haechan fired another comment. “And say how Mark shouldn’t be in Dream anymore, because you’re just jealous that you’re not in Dream with us.” “Yeah! It’s not our fault you’re not getting any songs-” “What the fuck did you just say? I dare you to finish that sentence Renjun.” JiHo stood up from her seat, malice lacing her every single word.

“Wow wow wow- Guys I can’t imagine JiHo saying anything like that. It must be a misunderstanding-” Doyoung said before he once again got interrupted by the Dream members. “It’s true! We heard her say it!” Jisung said, his voice starting to crack as tears brimmed in his eyes. “JiHo?” Doyoung looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Please let this be a misunderstanding.” He thought. “Is it my fault that I didn’t get any songs to promote then?” JiHo asked, looking at Renjun, completely ignoring the question.

“Is that what’s important right now?! Jisung is crying for goodness sake! And it’s all-” Chenle started yelling but Mark silenced him. “Why would I argue about something that isn’t true?” The girl said in almost a whisper before turning towards Renjun again. “So? Is it my fault? Jaemin here gets to perform Work It with Jisung, Haechan and Jeno have 90s Love and Haechan sings From Home with you and Chenle. You guys also have Déjà Vu. Yes, maybe I’m not as great of a signer as you, or as great as a dancer as Jisung, or as great as a rapper as Mark. Maybe it’s because I’m a girl. Maybe it’s because I shouldn’t have been in NCT in the first place. But is it my fault?” Her voice was so steady and calm, causing everyone in the room to become quiet.

They all stood there for a minute, before a sob leaves Jisung’s lips. Everyone turns to look at him, but JiHo turns to grab her phone and bag planning to leave. “JiHo, wait-” “I never. ever! Said anything like that about Jisung. What you probably heard was me telling Johnny how I’m feel like the fake maknae of NCT 127. How I felt like I, NCT 127′s maknae, am just a silly excuse for an idol, and how I took Haechan’s place, while he’s 100 times a better fit for the role than I am. Oh! And that about Mark, I never said he shouldn’t come back to Dream. I was talking about how worried I was for him to join another unit because he already is in almost all of them plus SuperM. I was talking about the unit Lee Soo Man has been planning for 2021. Who would I be to tell him what to do and not to do? And yes maybe I’m jealous of you guys, but I’m not the kind of person to go behind someone’s back and talk shit. But if that’s what you think of me please go ahead.” JiHo said before putting her belongings in her bag. “Also Jisung? Thanks for trusting in Haechan so much, saying that you all ‘heard me say it’ when it was only Haechan there eavesdropping on my conversation with Johnny. I’m really happy that knowing you for all these years has build this much trust between us.” She scoffed sarcastically.

As JiHo walked out of the room she got stopped by Taeyong. “JiHo, we still have practise-” “What’s there for me to practise? I’m not in any songs anyway.” She pushed herself through the boys at the doorway before making her way to the dorm, supposedly.

With JiHo gone the boys had looked over to Johnny who sighed deeply. “I don’t wanna say it, but you guys really messed up. Everything she said was true. She was only talking about herself, she never mentioned Jisung, besides when she said she was proud of him.” The comment had sent all the Dream members over the edge, their actions finally sinking in and the severity of their accusations very clear now.

They had never meant to be so hostile towards the girl, but when they thought she had been talking badly behind their backs about one of their members, and definitely since they thought it was about Jisung, they couldn’t help but get furious. They had such a close bond and felt protective over each other. Jisung had taken the news of JiHo badmouthing him very poorly and that sparked protectiveness over the youngest from the other members. But now that they found out about what was actually said they all felt sick to their stomachs. How could they have said such awful words to her when she was already talking badly about herself? And out of all member Haechan felt the worst. How was he ever going to make things right again? What were the consequences for his actions? And how bad were they going to be?

---

Part 2

[lareinenoir]

THE PURGE; Sanctuary C.E x black reader

PT III

60 Days Until The Purge

THEN...

"I'll order take out. I know you like Thai-"

"Don't order anything. I'm actually not even hungry." You said as he took your bag and put it on his shoulder. "What?" He was looking at you weird and it made you frown.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"You asked me to stay the night. That is my overnight bag." You replied folding your arms and walking over to the couch. Your hand touched your forehead and you sighed. You could still feel him looking at you as you tried to relax with your head leaned back. "After I tell Shonda about our situation, you're signing the papers."

"What do you mean-"

"You know what I mean." You shot back

"Ok, well theirs a lot to consider now." He motioned to your stomach and you sat up straight. "We're having a baby, now."

"No no no." You shook your head feeling your petty insides bubble a bit in sarcasm. "I'm having a baby. Me. Just me.”

"Obviously I want to be apart of our baby's life." Chris argued back and you frowned and scoffed. He put your bag down and crossed his arms as you brushed it off. "You can't seriously think I won't. V that's insane."

"You wanna know what's insane? You think you're gonna get anywhere near it. Why in the hell would I allow you and your broken promises anywhere near my child? Do you think I'm stupid? To make the same mistake twice!"

"Again? V what do you want me to do?" He asks throwing his hands up. "Acting is what I do, that's my job-"

"I don't care about that. I'm not asking you to chose your job or me-"

"It damn well near sounds like it. I would never make you choose." He countered back and you gripped your fists together.

"You may not have said it directly, but there have been many times where you have indirectly patronized me. I just found out I'm pregnant and I have been trying so hard to deal with it." you replied watching him pace back and forth and shake his head. "I have been getting the worst headaches, I can't keep any food down and I literally get lightheaded on set every single day because hiding my pregnancy has been a real joy ride." You replied sarcastically with a small chuckle

"What do you want me to do? I tell you to tell the producers, you get mad. I tell you to take a break, you get mad. I tell you to come over and you’re mad.” Chris said in disbelief. “I don't know what you want from me." He shrugs brushing the hair from his eyes.

"Not once since you found out have you asked me how I'm doing? My whole career is at risk I could lose my job. And you don't even seem to care.” You said

"V, I do care." He reached for your shoulder and you took in another breath. "I want you to stop worrying all the time. And you're right, I should be concerned more about you. I should be there for you-I should've been there for you in the beginning.” He admitted and you folded your lips again.

Are For real this time? Should I let it go and move past it? Again? No because it'll start all over again.

"This baby is mine. This is a life changing thing that's happening, I can't let you ruin it too." You spoke

" I'm taking responsibility because this is something I want. Ok? Can't we find some common ground? You of all people should know what it's like to grow up without a father!"

"You know too!" You shouted back. Chris' dad had died when he was younger. He talked about him sometimes but not as much. "I'd rather have had my father six feet under then to have him choosing when it's convenient for him to show up!" You said with your foot down shaking your head.

"Forget the divorce. Me and you living here happily married for the years to come. Whats so bad about that? Why can't I have that? What's so wrong with the picture of two parents raising a child?" His voice was loud and he was getting frustrated. He didn't shout, but you could tell how passionate he was about it. He always wanted to be a daddy, a parent. "Huh?"

"It's not just about you!" You said stepping closer. "Because..." You shrugged feeling your eyes water as you suck in your cheeks. "I knew the kind of man I was marrying. So involved with his job it took him almost fifteen years to actually start dating. It's not about you or your career. This baby is all I have right now.”

He looked confused as he relaxed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. From two feet away you could feel his heartbeat and you felt a little bad for how foolish you probably looked. You still loved him, not like you ever stopped, but you remembered that you still loved him.

Because, it's not about me either anymore. You thought

"Forget the papers okay..." You said swallowing your own pride. "just forget it. You’re right. I want our child to have two parents who will love him unconditionally. But it has to stop, because it takes two. I can't have you with one foot in the door." You admitted

“Yeah yeah.” He nodded “yeah I get that. I’m not going anywhere.” Chris said and you walked forward and took his hand kissing his palm as you placed it on the side of your face. “I promise V.” He cups your face and stares into your eyes. His stubble poking at you a bit as you held his wrists.

“I love you.” You said with a small smile

“Still?” He laughed making you roll your eyes as you giggled a little. “I love you too. Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” He asks again

“Yes.” You nodded “now shut up and come take a nap with me.”

NOW....

CHRIS POV**

“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” I said throwing the phone on the couch. I had called five times and her phone went straight to voicemail.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. ALL Weapons have been authorized for use during the purge. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 121 days. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until December 15, 12:00 o’clock midnight, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

My tv was replayed the message nine more times before shutting off. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Today is august 15, Vanessa’s birthday is tomorrow which was when she’d be 17 weeks. We had marked it on the calendar together. More than half my wife’s pregnancy would be spent during the purge. I needed to find her!

I didn’t support the purge. Something about killing people to be “cleansed” just didn’t sit right in my gut. It made my heart ache thinking about the clean up at the end. I could bring Dodger, but he can only do so much. Maybe he could help track her scent. Grabbing my coat I folded my lips together.

“Fuck!” I shout

With what weapon? How was I going to run the streets looking for my wife without a gun? I loved the idea of owning one, but Vanessa made me swear not to bring one in the house if she was there. So I just dropped the idea. Looking in the kitchen I grabbed one of the Chef knives off the rack. Maybe this would be enough for now...

“Damnit!” I curse looking at Dodger. “She said she was at Topanga Park. Start there?” I asked, as if he’d answer back. I grabbed her bonnet from off the bathroom door handle and stuffed it in my backpack.

I didn’t hesitate l. I locked up everything and jumped inside my truck. Dodger sat on the passenger side and I felt my hands start to shake as I put my foot on the gas. I started to promise god I would go to church if he would keep her safe.

“I don’t even know if you’re even listening or you even care. I love her, I’ve been such and idiot and I don’t wanna lose her.” I looked at Dodger and he was sitting up straight. “I remember you didn’t like her. You wouldn’t let her anywhere near me, you bark and squeeze yourself in between us when we sat down in the room to watch movies.” I chuckle wiping the little tear that slipped from my eye “You stole one of her wigs too.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she shouted chasing you around the house. “DODGER GIVE IT BACK! COME BACK!”

We chased him around the house and Dodger thought it was some sort of game. We had been officially dating for a month. I had started laughing when I caught him and held her headband wig in my hand. She stood their with her arms folded while I petted his head and she rolled her eyes.

"I told you he doesn't like me." She said as I stood up and she took the wig from my hand.

"Come on, he's just getting used to you."

"I've been over here every day. Your dog hates me."

"What?" I tilted my head to the side and touch her nose with my index finger. "Deal breaker? If my dog doesn't like my girlfriend, I'm gonna dump her? Tell me where that makes sense."

She walked closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist looking up at the ceiling as I kissed her neck. "I guess you have a point." Vanessa sighed.

"He's just warming up to you that's all."

"What's stopping me from breaking up with you?"

"Over a dog?"

"This is his third assault against me. First it was tearing up my purse, then chewing up my crocs, not to mention the little shit I found inside of them. And now stealing my wig and playing cat and mouse." Said Vanessa as I rested my head on top of hers. "Luckily this is a backup wig."

“Aren’t you wearing one right now?” I asked

“Headband wig. And that wig your dog has destroyed,” she gave him the side eye “it was my favorite and expensive.” She gritted her teeth

“I’ll buy you another one.” I offered

She purses her lips and shook her head. “I don’t want you buying me anything. I’ll just break up with you. For real this time.”

"Fine then..." I baited her shrugging my shoulders. "Break up with me."

“Over a dog?” She frowns mocking me as I smile down at her and her eyebrows bend downward a little as she caressed my face. Her finger was gentle and she stood on her top toes and kissed my lips. “Never.”

...

I look over at Dodger and pat his head. "We'll find her. I know we will." I say trying to lift my spirits.

When we arrived to Topanga Park, it was a sight. I didn't even want to leave the truck. I felt my heart race a little more. "What the hell..."

In the middle of traffic-in between the cars were bodies. Dodger started barking at the train of blood that stained the streets. It was empty, but I could feel a heavy weight on my back. Walking behind me, next to me...it was all around me. I hadn't realized I had my hand over my mouth an nose, it was hard for me to breath as the stench of dead bodies. Dodger kept barking and that led to me chasing after him. I had her bonnet in one hand and I called after him.

I came to a halt when I came face to face with another person. He had Dodger in his hands and I felt my muscle tense up. He was tall and very familiar looking. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held the kitchen knife in my hand with a firm grip.

"Captain America?"

I tilted my head sideways and licked my lower lip narrowing my brow a little. "Yeah, give me the dog and we can go our separate ways. Ok?"

He nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and put the dog down. I wasn't really concerned about who he was I was trying to prepare for a fight. He dropped his gun on the ground and held up his his hand.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm looking for my wife." He said "She left her watch in that building." He pointed to the school and slowly pulled the watch from his pocket.

"In there?" I asked

"Yeah." He nodded, but I still couldn't shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. "My name is Jared. My wife's name is Gianne, I'm pretty sure she was with someone else-are you looking for someone too? Maybe we could help each other. There was something written on the chalkboard in there, I wasn't something Gia would write, but she was here. All I wanna do is find her-"

"Supernatural?" I asked turning my head to the side. Vanessa loved that show. Whenever she had spare time she would watch it or on those many night she'd spend the night at my house we would watch it-well not really watch it. The Netflix and 'chill' was emphasized. "You said something about some sort of message on the wall?" I asked motioning with my hand. "what did it say?"

"um, CE equals BE or something like that." He shrugged

I laughed a little. Vanessa Evans plus Chris Evans equals Baby Evans. It was a stupid joke-an Easter egg if you will. Shonda put in the show on the whiteboard in one of our love scenes as a way to announce our pregnancy to the audience. She often left clues to the next episode in every episode except this one was not only in the show but in real life.

"Chris Evans." I say extending my hand out to him. I'm pretty sure he knew by the little smile playing on his face. He shook my hand and nodded his head.

"I know. I'm a big marvel fan, I know all your lines." Jared chuckled and then cleared his throat as he nervously laughed. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jared Padalecki - I know I said that already..."

I introduced him to Dodger and I felt a little more relaxed. I gathered that she was alive and we both came to the assumption that they were traveling together.

"Where do you think their headed?" I asked as we walked to his car which was tricked out and full of ammunition and guns. Not to mention government level protective gear.

"While I was in there, I picked up someone else. Heavy footed and big, traveling with dogs. Hair everywhere." He went on tossing me a bullet proof vest. "You heard of Sanctuary?"

"The safety place? Yeah, but it's hard to find. It's for people who get caught in the Purge right?"

He narrowed his brow and shook his head. "No." Said Jared sharply. "Sanctuary is a secret government funded task force. It started off as a conspiracy some myth to explain all the random disappearances throughout the year. It's a government project designed for population control." He went on

"Ok...what does that have anything to do with the Purge?"

"Everything. An organization designed to control the US population. We're talking Pro killers who were once on a leash, but when that horn sounded and the Purge began, they are just as free to kill anyone they want." Said Jared handing me an ipad. It was a list of celebrities. From pro athletes like Steph Curry and their immediate families to movie stars and singers like Rhianna and Tom Cruise. "There are rumors that they are hunting celebrities. The kardashians and Jenner's are fair game. If not the stars themselves then they choose their parents, brothers and sisters."

"And do what?" I asked quietly as I saw mine and Vanesssa picture

"Most get auctioned off to the highest bidder, I've also heard they kill them on the spot for money or bring them in to fight for the death. Bottom line, there is a bounty on our heads. During the Purge everyone is fair game, their is no protection."

"You're telling me she's out there being hunted by them right now?" I asked

“Possibly. The dog hair isn’t a breed we know. They are a combination of hunting canines, bloodhound, foxhound, Labrador retriever with the built and aggression of a something like a pit bull a Rottweiler.” Said Jared as I looked up from the iPad and gave it back. “You’re gonna need more than a kitchen knife. We find the dogs and the hunter and we’ll find them.”

He held a gun out to me and wiped my mouth with the palm of my hand trying to mentally prepare for what is to come."

“Do you believe in the Purge?” I asked still questioning why his car was full of weapons. “You kill people?”

He nodded his head. “Yes. I don’t believe in hiding or waiting for someone to kill me. We all have the right to Purge."

"What's stopping you from killing me?"

Jared sighed and shook his head. "I'm hunting them. I'm surviving and if you decide to threaten my survival, then I'll kill you." He went over to the driver side of his Ford charger. "Get in. Knowing Gia she is headed for Roberts hole."

"What's that?" I asked climbing in the passenger seat of the car.

“It’s a Cassino for celebrities. Jack Black owns it. It’s locked up right but open to his favorites during the Purge.”

“They’ll be there?”

“Relax.” He out his hand in my shoulder and looked at me as dodger sat in the back seat. “We will find them. You know how to shoot don’t you?” Jared raised his gun in the air and nodded my head.

I guess it wasn’t confidently and he chuckled. “Vanessa isn’t a fan of guns.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll practice. Ok?”

.

.

.

.

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A/N: Sorry it took so long😬 don’t hate me, please. Lol, I hope everyone is doing well and safe out here. If you wanna be tagged leave it in the ask box, Anyways…Untill next time!

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[helpinghanikan]

Hot Date

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Sum:  It shouldn't have to be said that SHIELD researchers aren't allowed to date their wards. But that doesn't stop the romantic tension from forming between you. The real question is, whose feelings will be most affected when the tension finally boils over?

Anomalous weapons supervisor was typed out on your paychecks, but babysitter would be a better description. Diplomas, experience and more resulted in your butt on bleachers. Watching the important people play around with powers few in this world understood.

Whoever designed this area probably didn’t know who exactly would be using it. It had the basics; a track for running, mats for sparring and weights for lifting. With more off the wall items thrown in that might be useful to the superpowered individuals using it. Like the massive metal balls being lifted and lowered by the red magic of your charge. Or one of your charges at least.

‘Wanda seems to have complete control of her powers. Whether these powers are coming from her mind or some sort of muscle in her hands has yet to be known.’ You type out just intime to get a guest sitting to your right.

“Can I get an autograph when your book is finished?” Pietro has been working on his accent, so had Wanda. As much pride as the two had they were still looking to adapt. But there were still hints of it on certain words. Especially when he’s this close not really trying.

“Only if I get to sign those tits.” Obviously, a joke, but you still had to take a quick glance to the camera. Just in case you get dragged into a meeting and this comes back up about your unprofessional comments. Not that it would stop your work.

“I can live without the signature,” Wanda’s voice, although distant, echoed in the wide space. “You’ve spelt many things wrong anyhow.”

Few people could say they were as close to the Maximoff twins as yourself. Even after the discovery of an alien/god, of the defrosting of a super-solider and the destruction from a billionaire people were wary of the twins.

It was through simple respect that Wanda had warmed up to you. You hadn’t talked to her with artificial kindness, didn’t look to the guards when her voiced raised even the slightest. No, you had asked how she was (the room was too hot for her), if she needed anything (just wanted to know how much longer she was going to be questioned), if she liked coffee or tea (tea is preferred), and how she was doing, really doing (she was tired, you all were).

It was another story for Pietro. Only trusting you after Wanda obviously saw you as a friend. Taking his own time to warm up after getting the same genuine experience you offered rather the blunt questions and stupid statements. It was the dinner you invited them to that sealed the deal. Nothing brings people together more than a lot of meat, the warm feeling of alcohol and a quiet afternoon with a food coma.

“What have you written?” Pietro asks, your laptop now in his hands.

There’s no point in trying to stop him when he snatches things. A child who had to move fast for food and safety makes petty theft a hard habit to beat. Not to mention Wanda already knew everything that went into your daily reports with a blink of her eye, it was seemingly only fair that Pietro got to know to.

“Same stuff I was doing yesterday, and the day before and the day before that and the-.”

“Yes, yes, thank you!” Pietro says, used to the child like taunts and knowing to stop you early.

With nothing of interest on said laptop he turned it back over to you. Taking his place leaning against your shoulder as you begin to work once more. Only speaking up to ensure you add in the correct description of his improvement.

These reports were supposed to be done without the twins knowledge. You were supposed to be a spy on the side of the government. Although it was blamed on Wanda’s mindreading in reality you had never tried to hide them. These friendships were genuine, resulting with the man practically putting himself in your lap to try and keep your attention.

"How much longer do we have to do this ‘training’?” Although a grown man Pietro could act like a little boy sometimes. When he’s done, he’s done. Taking whatever actions needed to get through his current situation and move on.

“For as long as the door is closed, Pietro.” Wanda has set the metal down. Taking slow steps to reach her brother and friend. “She would likely go faster without you hanging on her.”

There is no smooth way to say this; Pietro is a big spoon. Any chance he gets a hug or to hold someone results in being overwhelmed in lean muscle. Pietro was the only warmth during those impossible cold nights as newly orphaned children. His legs and arms creating a shelter that protected his chosen from any harm from ever happening. You were one of chosen now, which explained the face made at having to get up.

“Alright kids, let’s head home.” You say, slapping the laptop closed for effect.

You were one of several who kept an eye on the twins throughout the day. Wanda and Pietro pretended not to notice how certain employees just happened to always be in the hallway when walking through. Or the little cameras that were hidden in plain sight among the decorations in their quarters. And that’s not including all the mom aged agents “just checking in” at random times, complete with the sing song voice and overuse of the word “sweetie”.

On any other day you would have followed them into their quarters. Give them a recommendation for the TV and even stay awhile to watch it with them. A chime from your phone changing the day’s proceedings. It’s only a second-long hesitation that announces this change to the twins.

Pietro says your name in a tone different than the one earlier. It’s a tone of concern that snaps your head up at him. Wanda hanging around the quarter’s entryway, staying close enough to be apart of the conversation.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, now with your attention.

“What? Yeah, yes, I just got a…you know, a hot date.” You turn your phone to face him. Not long enough for him to read the entire message but enough to know that you weren’t completely hiding anything “I’ll see you guys later. Brush your teeth before going to bed, I’ll know if you don’t.”

Before Pietro or Wanda could give a retort the door slid shut.

“Who were they talking to?” Pietro asked the only other person in the room.

Wanda didn’t answer. Rather tilting her head towards her brother. Rolling her eyes when he asked “what? Wanda, what?”

-

Although officially a desk agent there were times the field required someone of your talents. When this happened, all other duties had to be dropped in exchange for an outfit change and a fancy car shared with your accompanying field agent. Natasha has been your designated agent since the first field mission and could now be considered a friend.

It would seem the babysitter had become the baby. Including having your clothes laid and being helped into them before reaching the car.  

“You’re an heiress looking for some expensive decorations and I am your lovely assistant and translator for the evening.” Natasha says, holding the under-suit’s legs open for you to slip into. “We’ll show up fashionably late. You are incredibly rich and important and better than all of them. So, don’t make eye contact with anyone, and try not to say anything, they’re below you.”

Unlike fulltime field agents you weren’t trained enough to go without serious protection. Not just in the form of an accompanying agent but also in a (jokingly called) bullet proof onesie. So, fitting it was essentially a bullet-proof wetsuit that stopped at the knees and elbows. Making the clothes to wear over it something with long sleeves, past the ankles and covers the neck. Sunday school appropriate for this event.

“Can I fake an accent? Like, German?” It was a dumb question for you to ask, but the ride to the gallery was already taking longer than it should.

“Hmm, Let’s hear it.” Natasha doesn’t look up from her phone but still sounded interested.

“Vell-,”

“Stop.”

Very special pieces were being auctioned off tonight. Invite only without any advertisements to say what’s up for grabs to outsiders. Although the windows were blacked out and authorities were paid off (but obviously not enough) supposedly nothing for sale was illegal. But if that were true you wouldn’t have found a seat in the front row.

The language of the night was deeply European. One or two words you could maybe guess what they meant but there was no way you could name it. Nat knew it though; it kept her ears perked to the room and her mouth right next to your ear for most of the night.

First items up were the typical rich people arty stuff; vases and paintings that probably represented something to someone if you squinted. Those went for a year’s paycheck in minutes. It was after the third portrait of some lady now long dead that Nat placed a hand on your back, just below the neck.

“Next up is ours,” she whispered. “you’re doing good and you’re doing great.”

The entire night was spent with better manners than an office setting could ever be. Back straight, eyes forward, and no one is allowed to make eye-contact. It’s only when the target was wheeled in that your mask was starting to slide.

Genuine HYDRA blueprints for a titanium prosthetic. White ink on blue paper with decades old coffee stains and tiny tears, spread up and out under protective glass like a butterfly. Although Mr. Barnes had a serious upgrade with the Vibranium he now used. But these blueprints showed just how advance the original was for the time.

Sitting forward as it’s wheeled by wasn’t enough to authenticate the prints. Something you easily communicated to Agent Romanoff with just a look.

It was a bad idea, it called why too much attention, but Agent Romanoff whipped her head towards one of the several employees of the auction. Curling her finger at them to get them over and in her speaking line.

She speaks quickly, and with an edge to her voice, to the employee. With only a few words back that same employee returned to his post and spoke to the next man in charge.

“They going to invite a few of us up to inspect the piece,” Agent Romanoff whispers, “You’re going to have to be fast, we’re going on stage.”

Others in the audience made their way onto the stage when invited. Agent Romanoff ensures that you are somewhere in the middle of it. Heels and heavy shoes making creating white noise for your work to be done.

In all HYDRA’s documents, blue-prints and almost everything else their symbol was hidden throughout it. A little game of where’s the octopus in two places. A large, but translucent, icon covering the center. And a smaller one in the bottom right-hand corner, hidden behind the creator’s signature. Reproductions never had the smaller symbol, but the stains and fingerprints ensured you were right.

Later, during the debrief, you would be lectured about the importance of subtlety and espionage. But how was the look you gave Agent Romanoff any different than how others were looking at their people?

After that (completely natural and not at all suspicious) nod Natasha’s arm was around your back. This was part you were suddenly feeling ill. This was the part your assistant/translator/arm-candy would escort you out with just enough urgency and demands for the bathroom that you’d be gone before everyone was in their seats. Apparently this was also the part a sudden security guard fires twice into your chest.

“Watch your head.” Although not yelling Agent Romanoff’s voice was firm.

It's hard to say which was scarier; the bullets aiming firing for your death or how calm and professional Agent Romanoff was about it all. Although, few rounds were actually fired inside the auction hall.

Agent Romanoff shot an arm out to the first security. Pushing his gun up and inward quick enough to catch his jaw and take him out of the game. Agent Romanoff keeping the downed man’s sidearm for herself.

That was really the only bit of action you clearly saw that night. When things go wrong in the field it’s the agents job to remove their ward from the situation with minimal injuries. As the researcher your job was much simpler; don’t die. “Keep your head down, use your arms to protect yourself and trust your agent.” Was hammered in during field training. With this mantra running over and over you weren’t in the position to watch the mess happening all around.

“Someone, call the police!” It takes a second to realize it’s Agent Romanoff yelling this. In a panicked, almost shrill, voice that practically screamed ‘we’re being victimized!’

With all the guests now properly riled up it was easier to exit the building. Allowing the oncoming mod to carry the two of you out of the building without much more fuss from security. Trying to kill an agent was one thing but killing a rich connected person (or worse their spouses) would be on an entirely new issue.

Someone stepped on your foot. Another put an elbow in your rib harder than the bullets. And a third open hand pushed you, and your agent, right out the door and onto the street. It was only through the strength of Agent Romanoff, and your handling of flats, that this mission could be considered successful.

The blueprints were already being tracked and followed by the time you’re stripped down to underwear. The pretty clothes had to be taken removed, the makeup wiped off, hair undone, and the bullet proof onesie had to be taken away. Simple tank-tops, shorts and a coat were worn on the journey home. By the time it’s all off, and you’re finally walking into the apartment, it shouldn’t be surprising how you looked to others.

“Have a good time?” It takes a second to realize it’s just the roommate asking the question.  

It’s expected that any roommate a SHIELD employee takes on would also be with SHIELD. The two of you weren’t in the same division or even security level part of why living together worked out so well. She was in the know enough to hear you complain but enough in the dark to keep any secrets from getting out.

“Yep, had a real banger of a night.” Although a friend and technical coworker you couldn’t disclose too much about the missions. At least not until the green light is given by the higher ups. Instead, you can only give the people something to speculate about. “Can’t wait to see what the bruises are going to look like tomorrow.”

-

Spoiler alert: the bruises looked like hickeys. Something noticed by Roommate but keeping quiet about it in exchange to heading out early. Ready with the latest thing to share with the office mates.

Just like any working environment gossip is always somewhere underfoot. After being dragged in by someone who couldn’t leave it at home it’s then latching onto everyone who came close enough to hear it. Most ignore it, others listen then forget and others drag carry it further into the workplace. Until researchers leaning against the wall talk too loudly and Pietro catches a few too many words.

“Who were they talking to?” Pietro asks once the housing area’s door shut. Quickly clearing things up with the use of your name.

“I’ve haven’t seen them yet.” Wanda doesn’t care enough to close her book but does enough to look up.

“No, yesterday. Before they left, someone messaged them. Who was it?”

Wanda shrugs and returns to her book, but there’s a smile there.

“You know who it is,” He says, now on beside her. “Tell me.”

“I can’t say for sure,” She’s smiling again. Only a slight glance at Pietro. “but I think he may be very handsome.”

The siblings argued as siblings do. With Wanda teasing as sisters do. All of this could be heard before you even made it to the door. Standing at its threshold to listen as the two go at it.

“Natasha will tell you the same, Pietro.” Wanda says, probably aware that you were in hearing distance. “And she says he can do more than simply be handsome.”

Although you say nothing Wanda grins at you.

The gossip overheard is just words without evidence. Just enough to get Pietro thinking but not enough to create any serious emotions. But the “evidence” to create those emotions was now standing in the room. Small marks darker than your natural skin was peaking out from the lower neckline.

To you, they were simple bruises, nothing worth trying to hide, even something to brag about to the other desk workers. To Pietro it was marks of another person, something that pursed his lips and marched away from. Doing so slowly, to be sure that both you and Wanda were aware of how upset he was.

“I missed something.” You say, setting everything down on the counter.

Wanda has a habit of sneaking into other people’s minds. The mission, the shots and the everything was slowly being filed through in the back of your head. A pressure at the base of your neck screaming that there was an intruder.

“Stop it.” You snapped, but Wanda only smiles back.

 “How was your ‘hot date’?” She finally asks.

“Is that what he’s…sonofabitch. Pietro!” There are only three rooms in this section of the compound. One being Wanda’s, another Vision’s and the third Pietro. Making it easy enough to find the pouting grown man.

“What?” He asks upon your entering.

There isn’t a response on your part for moment or two. Spending that time going to the room’s corner. Standing on tiptoes to find that switch that definitely doesn’t exist on the camera. Shutting it down for the time being before turning to start your explanation.

“You can turn that back on.” He says from his place on the bed. “There’s nothing bad we need to talk about.”

“So, you don’t wanna hear about how I was shot in the tit?”

Manners were out the window at this point. Pietro openly looking towards your chest. Back up to your face, and back down to your chest. “You were shot? They look more like…”

“They’re not hickeys, I was shot a few time through a suit.” Frustration was starting to build up. It was overflowing when you finished with “You really should know about being shot.”

The hurt on his face screamed. He didn’t look away but stayed staring forward right at you. “Pietro, I’m so…I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“It hurts,” He says. “Being shot, it really hurts.”

“I’m sorry.” Even as you walk around to sit beside him Pietro stares at where you were. Listening to your apology but not saying much else. Until he dares to lean against you. Something more than cuddling with a friend this time around. “I get it, I get you’re scared and all that. And I really like you, Pietro, I like you more than I am allowed to.”

It’s hard to say who started the kiss, but it doesn’t really matter. It was happening, and it was so much more than a something between friends.

“When that camera comes back on this didn’t happen.” You say in a moment of separation for air.

“What happens when the camera goes off again?” He asks, thumb rubbing over the bruise.

[wh6res]

taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.

synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.

warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation 

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life. 

thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!

since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age. 

for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”

until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”

until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”

sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more. 

in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else. 

taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance. 

assurance that he won’t get hurt. 

an assurance of faithfulness. 

he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!

he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets. 

as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky. 

but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?

romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that. 

he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate. 

“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered. 

taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump. 

focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—

two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.

the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there. 

and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil. 

except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter. 

the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer. 

johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it. 

no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company. 

anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high. 

taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired. 

yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan. 

“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”

or not.

“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine. 

“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”

“but—”

the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms. 

“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!” 

he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away. 

when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question. 

but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway. 

so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?

but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt. 

knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?

johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?

so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—

“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”

you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care. 

“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.

ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.

you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.

“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”

johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”

“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…” 

he drags a finger across his neck.

“oh.” 

pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.

you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people. 

its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.

“do you know that you’re—”

“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”

and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?

“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”

this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off. 

taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle. 

“you’re home early…”

your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”

you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”

the sting of betrayal never grows familiar. 

“i never said anything—”

“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”

“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”

but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you. 

you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created. 

when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing. 

“strip.”

“taeil…”

“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”

you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face. 

spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places. 

“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”

truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them. 

“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?” 

taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.

he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.

“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time. 

as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already. 

taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine. 

“you want it?”

you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining. 

“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements. 

you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?

“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”

“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”

hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”

now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort. 

“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”

you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—

until he shoves your face down the water. 

it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.

it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.

maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you. 

taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.

not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore. 

[lilblog-asatreat]

Prompt: Guard on a break; petty; shimmering lilac lake

(Prompt from Roll-A-Prompt Writing Journal Boxed Set)

It's been three months since the IPRE crew escaped the animal planet, and Taako's at his limit. This world they touched down in is completely devoid of civilization again, including talking animals, which means there's virtually nothing to do except study the Light of Creation, which they recovered a few weeks ago, and interact with the only other six people alive on the planet that composed of Taako's crewmates. He's almost always in the small lab with Lup and Barry as they experiment with the Light, and the times they aren't doing that, all Lup and Barry want to do is talk about it. Magnus trains almost nonstop, (seriously, does the dude even sleep?), and it seems like the only times Taako can get away from listening to him practicing his war cry is when Lup and Barry drag him away to the lab to figure out how he came back to life. Merle keeps singing the same damn four Pan hymns while he studies the new plant life offered by the planet. (Not to mention the time Taako walked in on him alone in the bathroom with what he would assume would be a beautiful looking flower if it wasn't wrapped around his... never mind. It was an image that he wanted to burn out of his memory to say the least.) Lucretia won't stop pestering him about talking about his feelings and his past all in the name of getting an accurate account of their mission (and little else to talk about). And Davenport has convinced himself that even after three months of radio silence, that force, the Hunger as Lucretia calls it, is going to come back at any second, so he has to stand guard on the ship in case he has to shoot everyone off into the sky at the drop of a hat.

Taako is sick and tired of everyone's bullshit. He needs a break. Apparently that isn't in the cards for him though because as soon as he steps out onto the deck to try and enjoy the fresh air, Davenport stops him.

"Taako, I was just about to go looking for you. I need you to stand guard out here while I go take a breather. I've been out here for hours, and Lucretia said... I need to decompress, I guess? Anyway, I'll be back shortly."

Suddenly, Taako would rather be anywhere else than on top of the deck.

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Davenport, my dude. If you were already talking to Lucretia, why didn't you just ask her to stand guard?"

"She wanted to go with Merle and Magnus while they forage for food. We're running low on supplies." Davenport says.

Taako frowns. "Why didn't you send me to go out and forage for food then? That's kind of what I'm best at."

"Because you're really good at sending up flares and showy magic, so you can easily send up a signal to get everyone back on board at a moments notice." Seeing Taako getting angrier, Davenport adds quickly, "They'll be fine. Besides, Merle's been studying the plant life more than you have, so he probably has a better idea of what is edible and what isn't than you do."

That does not, in fact, quell Taako's anger.

"Well thank you for acknowledging I am an elf of many talents at least, but I'll have you know Merle hasn't been so much as uh- studying the plant life as you say- as he has been fucking the plant life. So if you want to eat dirt because he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, that's fine, but don't complain to me when I can't make anything that tastes acceptable from whatever the fuck they bring back."

"Taako-"

"Just go enjoy your break. I'll be up here waiting for nothing to happen until you come back."

Taako turns his back to him in a huff, and Davenport sighs but doesn't comment. Instead, he makes his way down the plank and onto the beach of the lake they're parked on.

It's a very pretty and calming scene to look at especially while coming down from an argument. The beach is made up of grey-blue sand that seems to get softer the closer it is to the ethereal lilac water that shimmers under the glow of the setting sun. The branches of the trees and other greenery surrounding the lake sway gently in the cool breeze. Taako walks over to the railing, leans against it, and sighs, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his face. He looks down at the small form of his captain sitting cross legged at the edge of the water. He doesn't want to talk to him, but he feels like he should probably at least try to make peace. No one knows what's happening and if they'll ever get back home, and if Taako has to spend the rest of his life with only these people, he might as well not make them hate him. He sighs again before making his way down to the beach.

"Hey," Taako says as he plops down next to him.

Davenport looks up at him with a start. "Taa- I told you to-"

"It's alright my man, I left Lup in charge," Taako lies. "Listen. I'm... sorry... about what I said up there. It was a little petty of me to uh get so upset over being told to guard the ship for a few minutes and not being sent on the foraging mission. But also, Davenport..." He sighs and turns to look at his captain. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes look dead tired with a glimmer of constant worry and stress. Taako feels a pang of guilt for being short with him earlier, but he ignores it. "Look. The Hunger isn't coming. At least not for a while. You've been standing up there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and it's accomplishing nothing except making you more stressed than you need to be. And uh, quite frankly, it's also really annoying and stressing me out when you're also pushing that main focus on other people. You need to relax, my dude, before you give yourself, and everyone else, an aneurism."

Davenport turns away from him to stare out at the water. "I guess... I suppose you're right. It's just been so hard not knowing what's going on or what's going to happen to us next... I'm in charge of keeping everyone together and safe and making decisions that's supposed to benefit the team and mission as a whole, and I don't know how I'm supposed to do that when... this is so far out of what I imagined this mission was going to look like."

"Yeah, I don't think being the sole survivors of two apocalypses was part of the job description."

They both laugh a little at that.

"Anyway," Davenport continues, "it's not like y'all have been making it any easier, but I know it's because no one knows how to handle this situation, so I'm not upset. It is slightly annoying listening to Magnus train at all hours of the day and night, but I can talk to him about that later. And Taako, you really need to stop stealing people's stuff and moving it around on them everytime someone annoys you." Taako starts to protest, but Davenport cuts him off at the pass. "I know you're the one taking my stool, and I have caught you hiding Lucretia's notebooks in the kitchen cabinets. It's really petty and annoying, and that shit needs to be kept at a minimum."

Taako laughs. He pulls his knees up to his chest and continues to stare out into the water. "I promise I'll stop doing that if you promise to take breaks more often and stop pushing everyone to be on guard 24/7."

"Deal."

The two of them spend the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink beyond the horizon and the stars blinking into view, and the bond engine at the back of the Starblaster glows just a little bit brighter as a new bond is formed.

[finiteuniverse13]

home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

+

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

+

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

[cocobittiebites]

Hello!! This is my 2nd ask.. I just wanted a Scenario when Hisoka is being Saved by a extremely Powerful Woman who has a very cold Appearance... This Woman saved him during the fight of Chrollo.. Sorry for my Second Ask.. I'm just really loved him.. By the way I'm very satisfied on your blogs😊😊😊😊😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️

TELL ME WHY I FORGOT I WROTE THIS A COUPLE DAYS AGO???? LIKE FR THIS WAS DONE ON THURSDAY- talk about forgetfulness 🧍🏻‍��️

Some things that I added cuz creative liberty and all that jazz: y/n is apart of the main four (well it’s five now on my blog ig), I just love found family ok. Also it gives her depth and a decent reason how she knows Hisoka. Her nen ability was based off of my favorite six of crows character, Nina Zenik (who i also probably based her personality off of)

Also fair warning I can barley understand Nen and how is works whenever it’s explained so yeah here is me bullsh*ting it 🧍🏻‍♀️ I tried for y’all though...

Hisoka x fem!reader

TW: Hisoka being Hisoka, mentions of blood and gore (not that much but still), really this is pretty tame compaired to a lot of things on this app, y/n has strong opinions

Why did she have to get tangled up with this clown yet again? No amount of money is worth dealing with this.

At least she had the intuition to view the fight from her room at Heaven’s arena. From the looks of this the two fighters completely disregarded the sanctity of common courtesy as they brought the audience in their petty quarrel. 

Men and their egos.

The hypocrisy of the situation never ceased to amaze her.

He’s mad that Hisoka sold out the troupe and had a hand in the death of their members? Really? After they probably done far worse? 

She watched up on the screen as the audience members began flying towards the aforementioned clown, internally jerking back as Hisoka’s arm was completely severed.

Just like his fight with Kastro.

But it wasn’t like his fight against Kastro. This was a fight against the leader of the Phantom Troupe and this Chrollo guy….he was no joke. At least in his fight against Kastro it was like a game in his favor. Here though, he was the prey and this Chrollo guy seems vengeful. 

As she focuses on the magician, the situation seemed to hit Hisoka.

It was all incredibly dramatic.

And incredibly stupid.

A huge explosion erupted. Bodies piled up. Chrollo’s the last man standing. 

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

The words chant in her head like a sour requiem. A feeling of dread washes over her psyche. A wave, a panic arises. Her body moves involuntarily and she runs out the door towards the arena. Once she’s there she stills and takes a breath.

Stop being dramatic….This situation is exactly why he asked you to be here.

As a manipulator she could control a person’s hearts. If she was ever caught in a fight she could practically stop an opponent and give them an artificial cardiac arrest, not that she couldn’t fight her way out without her ability. With this ability she was also able to slow someone's heart rate, either calming them or putting them to sleep. The downside of it was that she had to be within a fifteen foot radius of whoever she’s using it on and there needs to have been a point of contact with the other person within an hour's time frame. 

Aura is all around the body you see, and the core of it is the heart. If it was any other organ, like the brain for example, without a modifier like needles, her nen ability would not be possible. Call it her individuality complex, but something about modifiers made her equate it to people like Illumi Zoldyck. It left a bad taste in her mouth. 

There also was a chance that if she overexerted herself, say stopping more than 3 peoples hearts at a time, she could overwork her heart rate and die. Then again, there are downsides to everything. 

Really it was an ability she was particularly proud of. Well she did develop her nen faster than the others. When she showed Gon and Killua her ability they started bombarding her with endless questions. Though there wasn’t a name for it yet. Leorio and his ever present doctor knowledge just kept spewing out heart-related medical terms.

Cardiac is a good name though. 

God. She really missed her friends.

At least you get to see Kurapika when this is all over.

Back to the matter at hand. Hisoka is dead and before he died he asked her to restart his heart to bring him back to life. After much harassment from him against her and her friends, she was bound to say no, however fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny. A bag is a bag, could you blame her?

Schooling her face she enters the ‘arena’, if you could call it that. The place was completely decimated. The ceiling was ready to crumble completely. Dead bodies littered the entire room. The iron smell of blood wafed up her nose, cringing internally.  In the middle lies Hisoka, face mauled, a missing nose, and several severed limbs. 

Geez, it's like he wants to make her job difficult. 

Peering over to the entrance on the other side she spots a certain pink-haired spider. Machi stands above Hisoka as she uses her nen stitches to put his limbs back together. 

Oh so this is his plan.

She takes no precaution in disguising herself through Zetsu, as she pulls her face into a stony exterior. It works as the pink-haired woman senses her presence and turns up in arms towards her. 

“You” Machi spits out.

“Me” she says mockingly.

“What are you doing here.”

Pointing to the man himself, “The clown wanted me to restart his heart,” sauntering over to where Hisoka’s body laid there, “a fail-safe, if you will.” 

Machi rolls her eyes, “I thought a goodie-goodie like you wouldn’t help a guy like him?”

Shrugging her shoulders she walks up to the spider and brushes Machi’s hair behind her ears, “Fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny.”

Machi doesn’t say anything. Paying no mind the girl kneels down to the magenta magician. His face, once handsome, now bashed and torn up. She wouldn’t admit it to him but she felt a small pang in her heart at the sight of him. 

You shouldn’t feel bad. He’s the cause of his own ruination. 

Placing both hands on his chest she feels for signs of where his heart is. Once finding it she focuses her aura into her hands and into his heart. Raising her connected hands once she pushes down roughly, in turn restarting his heart. Hopefully he still had some blood flow still lingering in the brain. 

It took a minute but after a while of pumping his heart herself she felt his breath even, indicating that he would be fine on his own for now. In a moment of relief she watched his eyes flutter open. 

His eyes focused, slightly dazed and disoriented, but surprised that he is seeing at all. Still he sees her towering over him, as icy as fresh fallen snow. Her expression is blank, devoid of any hatred or fondness. Still she’s ethereal like this. Light shrouded her like a halo, as if she was an angel of death. For a moment he thought he had died and entered a Heaven he did not deserve. 

What a welcome sight <3, he thought.

Machi looked at the pair stunned. So that’s what her nen ability is. Chrollo isn’t going to be happy about this. Slipping past the pair, she left the room to tell her boss about this new development. 

“What a coincidence Y/N, I didn’t know you cared about me this much,” his signature smirk marring his face. She watches as he fills his gapping nose with bungee gum and covers it with his texture surprise. 

Vain as usual.

She scowls at him, “I care about your wallet,” saying it as coldly as possible. 

“Ouch that hurts~” 

“You literally just died.” 

“So now your concerned, hmm~” 

Rolling her eyes she asked, “Well, I hope you learned something from this experience.” Raising her hand she checks his pulse, “What are you going to do about Chrollo and his gaggle of arachne?” 

“This was a sort of wake up call so to say~,” he sits up moving closer to her face, eyes darting towards her petaled lips. He reaches over to caress her face, but she swats his hand and glares, “From now on I won’t give my opponents a choice when and where we fight, it makes things more...interesting.” The magician reveals at the thought. 

Oh how magnificent our fight will be, Y/N

“As for the troupe, I plan on hunting them down,” he moves closer to her ear and then whispers, like a promise between two lovers, “one. by. one.” 

Leaning back to see her cold exterior crumble was a sight to see. Her eyes, wide and shocked, looked like a doe in headlights. Her mouth, deliciously agape, felt tempting to touch. There he was, powerful and sadistic Hisoka, toying with whether he should worship the woman in front of him or break her. 

Decision, decisions. 

“Either way I’m going to need someone to rip their hearts out with.” 

Oh~, this is where the fun begins <3

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 001. the unexpected.

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ intro | the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare  ↪

mia’s speaks:

Okay, so before we start the story. I’d just like to explain that this may be a slow burn kinda thing because I fully want everyone to understand yn’s point of view after she ran away six years ago. We will eventually enter Atsumu’s point of view along the story, but for now, I hope you guys like this! Let me know what you guys think! 

It had been six years and to this day, it still haunts you. Well, what they say is true anyway. Everything you run away from will eventually continue to haunt you until you decide to face it head-on. Needless to say, you were feeling pretty pathetic. Six years later, and that is still what you felt to this day. Pathetically sad.

The cool air emitting from the air conditioner set up in the living room, mixed with the early morning cold winter atmosphere that engulfed most of Japan with its beautiful white coat, brushes against the patches of exposed skin causing you to shiver slightly, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting to turn the appliance off during the night before. You had awoken too early for your liking, the sun barely peeking as you left the comforts of your bed to grab a cup of coffee. You were never a morning person, only because it was the time where you were often left with your thoughts as the time slot was usually unproductive.

During such unproductive hours, your thoughts usually consumed you. If it weren't about work or the handful of people you hold close to your heart, it often leads you to thoughts of your life six years ago. You wondered what it would be like if you hadn't opted to run away from reality a few years back during your high school years. Your train of thought often wandered to countless possibilities if you had faced your problems earlier on. To you now, running away seemed almost petty. Well, sorta.

Would you have been happy? Would they have accepted things? Would you have grown apart? Would they have pushed you away?

Sadly, you'd never know. This is only because you fear the truth so you refuse to return and seek certain answers that no doubt will only lead to ultimate disaster. You fear the consequences of your actions. To simply put, you were a coward.

It had been six years and to this day, it still haunts you. Well, what they say is true anyway. Everything you run away from will eventually continue to haunt you until you decide to face it head-on. Needless to say, you were feeling pretty pathetic. Six years later, and that is still what you felt to this day. Pathetically sad.

You move your gaze away from the hot cup of coffee on the kitchen counter over to glance out of the window from your apartment, watching the dark skies slowly fade away to signal a brand new day on the horizon, the sun painting the sky a bright calming hue. Any minute now, your friends that had decided to crash at your place during the previous night are bound to wake up. Your tiny space had become some sort of safe haven for when they needed to hide away from their own problems, or when they needed you to nurse their drunken states.

Despite it sparking irritation within yourself, you could never bring yourself to deny them. The group had been nothing but a solid help for you the past six years when you fled from Hyōgo and where you settled yourself in the comforts of your late father's best friend back in Kanagawa, Suwa Riku, reconnecting with one of your childhood friends, Suwa Reiji. The loving Suwa family accepted you with open arms, practically calling you their own despite the situation you dug yourself in. Honestly, if they had turned you away, you would have probably ended up in the gutter somewhere in Japan as you had no other place to go. It wouldn't have even shocked you if they were to turn their backs at you when you had first came knocking on their front door, practically drenched from the pouring rain, it was barely enough to conceal the tears.

However, despite the past they barely knew, they accepted you with open arms without an ounce of judgment. If they were curious, they asked politely, and if certain questions were too difficult for you to answer, they respected your need for privacy.

When you had left everything behind in Hyōgo, you wanted to forget. You had deleted your previous profiles from any sort of social media platform that you had and changed your number when you had the chance. To everyone in Hyōgo, you completely disappeared, a mere ghost that residents either often gossiped about or have completely forgotten, it wasn't as if you were well known within the community, but—still, your disappearance had quite the impact. However, since no one has found you yet in the past six years, it probably meant that your mother didn't care. You assumed the same for your handful of friends. You stayed with the Suwa Family in Kanagawa for at least a year and a half, time for yourself and to get adjusted to your new life before you convinced yourself to get a job that will lead you to a somewhat peaceful life, you needed it for support, now more so than ever. Once again, you are in debt when your childhood friend Reiji offered you a job as a manager for their group. Of course, how could you say no? Despite the busy schedule, you managed enough, sometimes giving you the ability to be flexible.

Ah, yes. Suwa Reiji, the lead singer for the famous boy band, Galaxy Standard. The two of you had been friends before you had moved to Hyōgo when you were eight years old. Despite the distance between the two of you, when your father was still around since your fathers were close friends, the two of you did keep in touch. However, as you grew older and found new friends in Hyōgo, the need to keep in touch disappeared almost instantly. Thankfully, despite years of not having any contact with each other, the two of you reconnected, happy to be back in each other's lives.

The past six years, as you tried to find yourself and finally settle independently, Reiji was there.

And despite the exhausting job of managing a boy band, you adored it. It kept you occupied. Despite the boys being famous, you opted to keep your social media platforms private, or rather secret, only your friends and a few of Galaxy Standard's fans knew of it. Although the fans knew of your existence, you wanted your personal life private and thankfully, the management and fans respected that with the help from your friends who are aware of your situation. You wanted to stay hidden. Accompanying the boys in certain events, despite being a girl where it was typical for fangirls to grow upset because of the close contact with their idols, the fans respected you and often held polite conversations with you.

Yes, despite the troubles you have, you wouldn't deny the fact that you were indeed happy, but lately, something in the back of your mind has been irking you, making you feel extremely uneasy for not knowing what it could be. It frustrated you to no end.

"Someone looks like a vein in their head might pop," you hear Reiji tease as he approached. You roll your eyes before turning your attention over to the man that intruded your thoughts. Bless him, you were slowly becoming crazy with all the thinking. However, you weren't going to praise him or anything, despite Reiji's calm and humble personality towards others, he was a completely different person towards you; often teasing, most days very playful.

You snap back playfully, "Good morning to you, too." He occupies the seat across from you, despite stumbling to your apartment the previous night completely drunk from a party, the man before you showed no sign of a hungover, you were used to it by now. "Seriously, you and Shizuma need to find some other place to crash. I don't even know how you roped him into drinking, he was absolutely thrashed when the two of you arrived. Normally, he'd be the responsible one."

"Yeah, but once he starts drinking, there's no stopping him. And Nah," he chuckles as he leans against the counter, a yawn escaping his lips as he spoke midway, "Your place is comfy but also because I get to see the cute faces of my favourite nephews almost instantly, it's a bonus."

"Uncle Reiji!"

"Where's Uncle 'zuma?"

Speaking of the little devils. Both of your attentions snaps at the two identical figures that stepped out of their shared room and into the vicinity that you and Reiji occupied. 

The sight of their sleepy states warmed your heart at just how cute they have grown. Ah, yes. Your two boys. One of the two reasons why you preferred to keep your personal life, private. Of course, there was also Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro to think about. Your precious boys, your utmost priority. Everything you could ever want and more. They were the two that you could finally call home. As much as you know that your existence wouldn't be much of a big deal to the fans since you weren't entirely famous, you refused to let your boys get caught into any unnecessary drama that your friends have often got themselves into, so despite having famous uncles, you kept them shielded whenever you can. Of course, the fans of Galaxy Standard were aware of the existence of your little boys, often swooning when one of their idols were photographed with one of the twins. Needless to say, it always made the fans crazy, but you were grateful that the fans were respectful and never crossed the line whenever your boys were included.

Of course, the main reason why you wanted everything to be kept private was that you didn't want certain people to know the secret you've worked hard to stay hidden, but Japan was big, wasn't it? You often reassured yourself that it was impossible for paths to cross.

"Why are you looking for your Uncle Shizuma when I'm here?" Reiji asks, feigning hurt in his expression as both six-year-old boys approach, yawning and sleepily rubbing their eyes.

Atsuhiro, or rather Hiro, as he liked to be called sighs as he shakes his head at his uncle, "But Uncle 'zuma is the best."

"Now you take that back young man!" He scoffs as he playfully places his hands on his hips, "Who do you think raised you?"

The little boy tilts his head to the side as he watches his uncle in amusement of his antics, "Uncle 'zuma helped too! Mommy says he even helped out changing diapers which you didn't do!"

"But Uncle Reiji's the best! He always plays with us!" Atsuhiko, Hiko, retorts as he rushes over to his uncle to give him a high five, "Mommy, Uncle Rei said he's going to teach us some tricks like he did back then in Stride! Isn’t that cool?"

You send a glare towards the man that was mentioned by your son, who only avoided your gaze as he ruffles your son's hair, "Maybe something else. You can ask your uncles to teach you how to sing and dance like they always do, just not that dangerous sport."

Atsuhiko groans in protest while the other twin approaches you, wrapping his short arms around your leg, "Do you think they can teach us volleyball?"

"Oh yes!" Atsuhiko yells out happily agreeing with his twin, his dismay for his mother's earlier disapproval flying out the window as he looks at you with hope in his eyes, "Volleyball is so cool! Can we mommy?"

Almost instantly, a lump formed in the back of your throat at the mention of the mere sport, a reminder. It wasn't as if you were against the sport, but what caught you off guard was the interests your boys clearly showed. How ironic.

As you raised the two, whether at times you were alone or had help, you often pushed the twins away from certain reminders of your past. What was that? Anything that reminded you of your past in Hyōgo was pushed aside. It was rather petty, you knew that yourself but as the twin boys grew throughout the years, it didn't get unnoticed how their features screamed of the one and only Miya Atsumu. Well, you expected that—he is the father of your twin boys, but you silently prayed during your pregnancy and as you raised them that their features would come from your side of the family instead of his.

But of course, somehow you've upset the Gods for your pettiness. This was your consequence. A daily reminder. There's no denying of your love for your boys. They were your life and you wouldn't change anything because then they wouldn't exist. However, you've grown hateful of your past as years gone by. Your hatred for the awful memories had made it more difficult to forget.

You expected the interest in volleyball before they even mentioned it to you today. The clues in their shared room were enough for you to pick up that they were most likely to take after their father in a sense, not that they know of such.

Earlier, about two years prior when they first started in kindergarten, it was inevitable for such to talk about your families, you remember experiencing such back then despite it being foggy. They returned home, despite being young, they were smart for their age and bombarded you with questions without holding back; wondering about who was their father and where he was, or if Uncle Reiji or Uncle Shizuma were their fathers. Back then, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them the truth or even utter a single word about the man missing in their lives.

You experienced a whole week of silent treatment from your two boys because you refused to answer, their stubbornness hard as a rock. You refuse to answer their questions? Well, they, of course, fight back by refusing to talk to you. Oh, children, right? Of course, Reiji and Shizuma were a big help because to the twins, the two of your friends were practically the only father figures that they had. Since Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro refused to utter a word to you, they tried their best to talk to the twins, avoiding certain parts that they were too young to know about, and explained that when they grew up and they were ready to know, you would eventually let them know.

Bless the heavens because, after that, your two boys returned to their loving yet sneaky nature, never asking or mentioning about their father again. However, the majority of the conversations about their father were kept in secret between the two. Atsuhiro wanting to know more while Atsuhiko pushing the idea away, but not wanting to upset his brother, he keeps his dismay of their missing father from Atsuhiro, who grew more eager to find his father as years go by.

"What's with all the excitement at such an early hour? You two always have so much energy. What's this I hear about wanting to play volleyball?" Shizuma saves you from answering and you share a silent communication to send your gratitude for the interference.

Atsuhiro breaks out into a grin at the sight of his favourite uncle and immediately approaches him, "Uncle 'zuma, do you know how to play volleyball? Can you teach me and Hiko? Please?"

Shizuma chuckles in response, ruffling the little boy's messy locks, "I'm not that good but if you and your brother are serious about wanting to learn volleyball, I know a friend that may be of help."

"You do?" Atsuhiko asks, excitement in his voice.

You repeat, arching a brow in curiosity, "You do?"

"Well he's more of Asuma's friend than mine but we're good acquaintances," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'll see what I can do for my two favourite nephews."

"Yes!" The twins exclaim happily at the same time before running towards each other to share their routine handshake.

"Now that's settled," Reiji starts, clapping his hands together to grab the attention from everyone in the room, "Aren't you two supposed to be getting ready for your day with Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa? You wouldn't want to keep those two waiting, I heard they have a really big day planned ahead for the two of you."

Ah, Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa. Reiji's parents, and well—your substitute parents and the twins' substitute grandparents. Despite not being biologically related, they treated the three of you like a real family. They helped you throughout your pregnancy and at the same time raising your two boys. They did what any grandparent would do, discipline and spoil them. You wouldn't change it for the world. The love they had for your boys was overwhelming, and Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro completely adored their substitute grandparents just the same.

Atsuhiro releases a gasp from his lips at the realization of the big day, he had been excited, to say the least, rushing to get prepared whilst Atsuhiko frowns and stays rooted in where he stood, "But today's Uncle Asuma's birthday! I want to go too!"

"No can do, kiddo." Shizuma shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest; an indication the twins are familiar with that meant it was not up for any negotiation. "You know this party isn't for little boys, your Uncle Asuma already told you this, but he promised to take both of you out tomorrow to make up for it. You and Hiro can celebrate his birthday tomorrow, I promise."

Atsuhiko releases a dramatic sigh, throwing his little hands in the air as he stomps his way to get ready, knowing that if he were to argue, he would inevitably lose. Oh well, he thought to himself, Grandpapa and Grandmama are the best anyway. 

"I don't know how you do it, 'zuma." You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Those two have become spoiled to the core because of all of us, yet when it comes to you and their Grandpapa Riku, they suddenly become little angelic-slash-monsters who obey every command."

Shizuma lets a grin spread on his lips, "Some things can't be taught. Anyway, I'll get going. I have to help prep Asuma's party. I'll see you guys there."

"I'll get going too," Reiji declares as he stands up from his seat, "Don't back out of the party, I'll drag you there if I have to, I swear."

You roll your eyes at them, more so at Reiji than Shizuma, shooing them with your hands as you follow them to the front door, "Yeah, whatever. I'll be there. Stop worrying."

Dropping the twins at the Suwa Residence after eating lunch together was often smooth sailing as the twins always adored spending the day with their substitute grandparents. However, Atsuhiko expressed his dismay of being left behind once again insisting of wanting to attend his Uncle Asuma's birthday party, you had to pry his hands away from his grip on your leg. Thankfully, you had help from his Grandpapa Riku, and after waving goodbye to a smiling Atsuhiro and a scowling Atsuhiko, you were off to get a few errands done before heading to Asuma's apartment to celebrate his birthday, taking your sweet time to avoid your favourite, yet rowdy bunch of friends, only because they probably wanted you to help them set up the party, which you didn't want to take part in.

Honestly, you could have chosen otherwise but decided against skipping the errands that would most probably pile up despite the break Galaxy Standard was having. Plus, you may or may not have, forgotten to get a gift for Asuma and if you showed up empty-handed, well, you weren't going to hear the end of it.

Hours went by as you got through your list of errands, you were left with messages and certain phone calls that you ignored throughout the day, you were finally able to buy a suitable gift for your friend. All there was left to do was show up to the party that was apparently already in full swing. Thankfully, your friend's lavish apartment was around the corner.

You waited for the traffic lights to signal the safe journey across the busy streets, your grip on the neatly wrapped gift on one hand slightly tightening against you as you shiver from Japan's cool winter breeze bustling through the air, something you're still obviously not very fond of. For as long as you can remember, you hated the cold. It was a bitter reminder of the times you were utterly alone. You always preferred the warm temperature, whether it was from a fireplace or someone else, it kept you from going numb, made to remind you of reality.

The sound of your phone ringing startles you from your thoughts and you pull the device from one of your pockets, Reiji's name flashing across the screen. You grumble to yourself of his impatience before answering the call, bringing the device up to press against your ear. Before you could utter a word, he beats you to it in a demanding tone, "Where are you? You're late."

"Hold your horses, Rei." You answer in irritation as you look up ahead to check the traffic lights that still had the signal to stay where you were, "I'm almost there. Be patient." However, you couldn't process the words Reiji muttered next from the other line. Someone calling out your name catching your attention, your eyes widening slightly at the realization of who it was. Immediately, you cut off Reiji's rambling from the other line and ended the call, slipping the phone back into your pocket as you feel your shoulder tense at his presence standing next to you. "Osamu."

"So it is you," he blinks in disbelief, his eyes drinking your features bit by bit to check if he was dreaming or not, "You look different, I barely recognized you if it weren't for your voice, but it really is you."

You nod stiffly, "I suppose I would since it has been six years and all. What are you doing all the way here in Kanagawa?"

Suddenly, a memory flashes across your mind. A memory of earlier in your apartment, Shizuma mentioning a friend who knew how to play volleyball. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Ah, I'm actually checking a few spots around here for my business," he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "So Kanagawa, huh? This is where you've been hiding all this time?"

Your lips press into a thin line, feeling uneasy under his gaze. Of course, you would, you're practically hiding a really big secret. "I'm sorry, I don't have time to chat. I have plans and my friends are already egging me on for being late."

The traffic lights save you from a painful conversation, signalling that it was safe to cross but before you could take a step away, you feel him grasp onto your shoulder to pull you back. You turned your head to face him, ready to fight him off but you halted your actions at the sign of sadness his features displayed. You took the time to examine his features, your heart practically leaping as you were able to take in everything unlike seconds ago where you were purposely trying to leave. Of course, back then when you were friends, you considered Osamu as handsome. I mean, why wouldn't you? You were practically in love with his twin brother who you found extremely handsome at the time. However, that wasn't what ran through your mind. You began thinking that Atsumu probably looked just as good, and suddenly you felt a shitload of bricks slamming right down on your shoulders, the feeling of panic surging through your veins, wondering if Atsumu was around too that you failed to notice Osamu pull out a small card from his wallet, holding it out for you to take. He seemed to read your thoughts as he spoke to reassure you, "Don't worry. He's not here, but..." He trails off, looking at you with hope in his eyes, "take this, it has my number on it. When you're ready, I'm here to listen. I always have been. I want to know what you've been up to. I want to catch up."

At Osamu's reassurance, you feel your shoulders slowly relax as you take the card from him, your eyes scanning the printed numbers and words, Ongiri Miya, making you realize that he hadn't pursued Volleyball like his twin often rambled on. You flicker your gaze up to meet his once more and he gives you a small smile. You slowly nod as you slip the card into one of your back pockets, "I have to go."

He watches you leave, the smile he had instantly morphed into a frown as he watches you walk away once more and eventually disappear from his line of sight. He silently prayed that you would contact him when you could, wanting to reconnect with you after all these years, to know why you left. He promises to himself that when you do decide to reach out, that you wouldn't mention anything to his idiot brother.

He noted the shift of your body, how your shoulders relaxed at the mention of someone not being around, he knew that you had thought about his brother. And it only confirmed his suspicion of you leaving because of what his brother had done six years ago, the last day people saw you in Hyōgo. However, something still was missing, he still craved an answer. You couldn't have left just because of Atsumu's actions. So what was it?

Either way, he was determined to find out. You may have not known it then, but Osamu cared about you a lot. However, due to you being blinded by his twin brother's light, you failed to notice. He wasn't going to let you go this time, he'll find a way to get you back in his life. His phone blares his ringtone, snapping him out of his thoughts. As he brings his phone up, he grumbles underneath his breath at the sight of his brother's incoming call. Speak of the devil.

"What is it?"

He hears his brother whine from the other line, "Can't I just call my brother once in a while?"

"You only ever do that when you're in trouble or need something," he retorts with a roll of his eyes.

Atsumu laughs in response, "How'd the shop searching go? Anything interesting so far? When you coming back?"

"Hold up, what's with the questions?" He laughs at the sound of his brother's enthusiasm. It's true, they often disagreed with each other but when it came to supporting each other's passion, they were always there for the other. He shifts his gaze over to where you stood moments ago, a smile ghosting his lips at the memory of the brief conversation the two of you shared. "Yeah, maybe something interesting here in Kanagawa after all." He listens to his brother speak excitedly over the phone causing him to shake his head at the ridiculous tone. "Oh? He's here? Maybe I can hit him up..."

After the encounter with Osamu, you practically quickened your pace to Asuma's apartment, your heart beating erratically. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until you were gasping for air. Luckily, the majority of Asuma's guests were preoccupied that they hadn't noticed your entrance. You were sure you looked embarrassing looking extremely flustered.

You hear your name being called and as soon as you caught your breath, you notice Shizuma calling you over, Asuma and Reiji along with someone you seem to recognize but can’t seem place in your mind. Walking over, your lips curl up to a small smile as you extend your arm to hand over Asuma's gift, "Happy Birthday, 'suma. Here's my gift."

Asuma's eyes instantly light up, retrieving the gift from you, "I was going to get mad at you for being late but since you have a gift for me, I'll let it slide. Did the boys pick this for me?"

"Gee, aren't I lucky." You drawl sarcastically, a laugh being shared within the group as you shake your head, "No, you think those two would let me give them your gift? They said they'll give it to you tomorrow when you take them out. Hiko was upset when I left him with his Grandpapa Riku, though. He had this cute little scowl." Your three friends laugh, imagining their nephew in their heads. You flicker your attention over to the person who was watching you interact with the others with amusement, you smile at him politely. "I'm sorry. How rude of me."

"Oh, right!" Shizuma speaks as soon as your name slips out of your mouth to introduce yourself, holding out your hand for a shake which he grabs, "This is the friend I was talking about that can teach the boys volleyball."

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" He starts with a grin as he shakes your hand firmly, his enthusiasm infectious. Releasing his grip on your hand, he sends a little wave, "Bokuto Koutarou I'm a friend of Asuma's. Shizuma here was just telling me about your boys and how they were interested in volleyball and I wouldn't mind helping them out."

Asuma adds, "He's a professional volleyball player for Japan's V.League in Division 1. MSBY Black Jackals was it?"

You watch as the man who you thought kind of resembled a horned owl nod his head towards Asuma's direction, something about him oddly familiar. You hum along, eyes widening slightly at the information. "Professional? Wow, colour me impressed. Wouldn't you be too busy to train two six-year-olds, then?"

"I'll speak for everyone who knows her two boys that they're absolute devils," Reiji chuckles with a shake of his head, "Fast learners though. We'd teach them how to run like in Stride if we could but their mother over here refuses."

You scoff, "Because that sport can be dangerous!"

"Stride, huh?" Bokuto butts in, interested. "But yes, I have some time to teach. I'm sure they'll be okay. I owe Asuma anyway. I don't mind."

The corners of your mouth twitch to an unsure smile. You didn't know if you were going to go through with this if you were honest, but it isn't exactly something you can reject as your three other friends were present, and they would do anything for their favourite set of twins, spoiled rotten those two were.

"Don't worry," Shizuma claims, nudging you with his elbow as he gives you a reassuring smile, "They'll be in good hands, one of us will find the time to attend their little training. We're not as busy lately due to our little holiday anyway."

You hum softly as you continue to examine Bokuto under your gaze before something in your mind clicks, eyes widening ever so slightly. “I think I know you! Weren’t you at the Christmas Party last year that Reiji held?” 

He nods with a grin, “I was actually. Asuma invited me and I went along with a couple of friends. Funny how we’ve crossed paths before and yet we’re only meeting now, ay?”

“Ah, yeah. I think I remember now, sort of.” you laugh, nodding your head in agreement, “That party was crazy anyway. I don’t think anyone wants to remember that crazy night. Especially Reiji.” 

The man mentioned scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s why whenever I plan parties it’s never at my place anymore.” He shudders at the memory, “Drunk bastards doing the nasty at my place. And that model’s awful moaning could be heard even when the music was blasting.” 

You scrunch up your face in disgust, “Thankfully I left early then,”

An awkward laugh escapes Bokuto’s lips as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah about that...” 

“That was you?” you and Asuma let out a gasp, eyes widening while Shizuma bursts out laughing. Reiji on the other hand, obviously not amused at the information. 

“Dude, what the heck!” Reiji exclaims, brows furrowing, “The least you could have done was choose a guest bedroom rather than on my own bed!” 

“Oy!” he laughs, holding his hands out, “I didn’t say it was me. I was just saying I know who it was. It was one of my friends, but I’d rather not say who.” 

Asuma joins his older brother Shizuma in laughing at the side while you try your best to calm down Reiji by tugging on his arm. “Anyway, Bokuto. I think we should talk about the schedule of your training with my boys. I’m sure they’ll be excited when they find out someone will be training them volleyball.”

Somehow, a part of you was screaming at you, telling you that this wasn't going to end well. Of course, you didn't realize at the time that you would come to regret such a decision, not like you had any say against it either. Your little boys were spoiled rotten and often got their way whether through innocent means or their sneaky tactics. It didn't help that their group of uncles were wrapped around their little fingers.

Ah, yes. You hadn't realized it yet, but it was the start of a roller coaster ride.

[yoonjinkooked]

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (3)

banner: @casuallyimagining​

PART 1  /  PART 2

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing 

Word Count: 5.447 

Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Earlier this morning, you have decided that the time has come to ask Namjoon for a raise. You work hard, do your job well and make sure that the customers walk out of Bonsai with smiles on their faces and bellies full of good food. Having spent most of the day hopping around on one leg, leaning on either Jungkook or Hoseok, going from one room to another to participate in some stupid team building trust exercises, you were agitated and ready for this weekend to be over.

From the moment you’ve opened your eyes, you were in a sour mood. Ankle still very much in pain, you were already thinking about how the hell you are supposed to survive tomorrow in the kitchen – and if you can’t, could you confidently give the control over to Jungkook? And like that wasn’t enough, Kim Seokjin was everywhere. Very literally, everywhere.

Across the table from you at breakfast, two chairs down from you during the lecture you had to sit through and ever as a member of your scavenger hunt team. A scavenger hunt you’ve participated in by sitting on the floor at “home base” and waited for the rest to return with puzzle pieces. And while you helped the team solve the puzzle, Seokjin was right next to you.

The only form of communication between you were the nods you’ve exchanged at breakfast. Other than that, he didn’t say a word and neither did you. At first you thought he was simply going to ignore you for the rest of the day, something you wouldn’t have any complaints about whatsoever, but soon enough you’ve started noticing how Kim Seokjin spends a surprising amount of time just… looking at you. And not just at times when you speak or have the attention on you anyways, oh no. He’d look at you when you’re silent, when you’re minding your own business and always, always, when he thinks that you’re not noticing it. Every time you’d lift your head up and look his way, he’d suddenly find something else more interesting than you.

Even now, sitting between him and Jungkook, you can feel his stare on you. That on itself would be high key unnerving, but after the conversation you’ve had with Jungkook last night, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point. As crazy as it sounded last night, what if Jungkook was right and Kim Seokjin does actually like you?

Perhaps like is not an appropriate word. Can he like you if he doesn’t even know you? Yeah, he’s known you for years but not you as a person, not you as a friend. Attraction might be a better explanation to the current situation. Is Kim Seokjin attracted to you? That’s a bit doubtful but then again, why wouldn’t he be? And he truly is paying more attention to you now than before. Or maybe you’re just noticing it more now. Just how Jungkook had promised you would.

“Now,” Lucy, the weirdly hyperactive middle aged woman leading today’s exercises claps her hands so loudly, you find yourself jumping in surprise. Shaking your head, you empty it of Kim Seokjin and worries about tomorrow’s service and focus on surviving this current form of torture that you are stuck in. “I know some of you guys are closer than the others. After all, you are two teams in one. But for this next exercise, I want you to completely ignore that. If you are close, perfect, it’s going to be fun and easy. If you’re not, just do your best and try. It’ll all help you in the end, help you in trusting your team more than you did before,” she explains. You nod, still wondering how the hell this can help your team work better and why Namjoon thought it was necessary.

“So,” once again, her hand clapping startles you. “You’ll be in pairs. To keep things simple, it’ll be just down the line of how you guys are sitting,” she smiles and this time, you are very startled. Looking down your left, you saw Jimin and Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung, Soobin and… Jungkook. It was a mistake to waddle after Jungkook just because you wanted to stay next to him, in your comfort zone. Now you’re stuck with the man on your right. You’re stuck with Kim Seokjin.

“What exactly are we supposed to do?” Wendy, the hostess from Catnip asks. You see her sitting next to Taehyun and you wonder if the two have ever actually talked to one another before.

“Talk,” you want to roll your eyes when the annoying lady in charge laughs at Wendy. “Just talk. If you go way back, talk about how you met. If you barely know each other, get to know each other. After a while we’ll regroup here and I’ll ask you a couple of questions. I’d suggest you find an empty room or table, maybe go outside and get some fresh air? Let’s say, come back here in an hour? And then we can continue with the exercise.”

An hour of talking with Seokjin. Yes, you’re definitely asking Namjoon for a raise.

“Are you okay with not going far?” you ask Seokjin as you stand up, already wincing at the sharp pain your ankle causes you – if this intensity of pain continues tomorrow, you’re going to have to get it checked by a doctor. “I’d rather not test my leg today.”

“Yeah, sure,” Seokjin agrees immediately, standing up beside you. “Do you need help?” he asks.

You want to say no, you truly do. Knowing that your leg won’t appreciate your pettiness, you nod. “Please,” he immediately offers you his arm, which you cling onto as you start bouncing your way out of the hall, not knowing where exactly you’re heading. “Where should we go?” you ask.

“How about the hotel café?” he suggests as he patiently walks in your speed. “It’s pretty much next door and we can drink some coffee?”

“Sure.”

It’s awkward. Perhaps even more awkward than it would have been if last night’s conversation didn’t take place. Both of you are trying extra hard to be polite and it’s just… unnatural. Throwing around snarky comments and eye rolls is more your area of expertise. Now you’re all polite and he’s the perfect gentlemen, even pulling out your chair for you and insisting on buying coffee. It’s weird and awkward and all kinds of wrong.

“So…” he drags out as you reluctantly make eye contact with him. Is this the first time today that you’ve actually looked at each other? He’s been looking away too quickly for you to catch him this entire day. “We’re supposed to talk about when we met?”

It’s ironic now, extremely ironic. Direct eye contact makes Seokjin look more intimidating than he usually does, at least now when you are alone with him. And that feeling of being slightly intimidated by him is something you can vaguely remember from a period that seems like a lifetime ago.

“Didn’t we drink too much during school to remember that?” you ask, smiling when he laughs because yes, you absolutely did drink too much during school. Every damn weekend there was some party, held by someone from your year and you all took every chance that you’ve had for cheap alcohol and an excuse to not study. “But now that you mention it, I do remember one particular scene from the very first day of school.”

Okay, you’re lying. While you don’t remember much, you didn’t suddenly experience a surge of long lost memories coming back to you. The incident in question is something that you’ve never really forgotten since the day it happened, although you don’t think of it often.

“Oh god, what?” Seokjin looks worried and you laugh, knowing that he knows damn well that it’s bad.

“How do you call a cheese that isn’t yours?” you repeat the exact same words that you heard him saying the first day of school, laughing as you watch the pure horror on his face. It’s easy to laugh at him facing his dark past, although a part of you doesn’t believe that he regrets it, not for one second.

“I can’t believe I said that,” he whines.

“Nachocheese. Nacho fucking cheese,” you finish the joke, laughing so hard you feel your eyes watering. It doesn’t help when he looks at you and sighs, pretending that it’s different now, that this is not something he still does and that he does not have a wide array of similar jokes ready to go at any given moment.

“No wonder you hated my ass,” he chuckles, reaching for his cup of coffee.

“I never hated you,” you frown at him, pausing to sip on your own Americano. “Wow, hotel food is horrible but hotel coffee is decent,” you mumble in amazement, enjoying the taste. “Anyways, I didn’t hate you, not then, not now. Don’t get me wrong, you were a pain in my ass but I can distinctly remember laughing at that nacho cheese joke.”

“Huh, I wonder when I ruined that,” he says jokingly but with the way he looks down at the table, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of him that’s dead serious. With the events of last night still fresh in your mind, it’s hard to consider him anything but genuine. And with Jungkook’s words also fresh in your mind, you truly don’t want to have a chance to overthink about Seokjin. Especially not while he’s sitting directly in front of you.

“Probably when you changed the labels on salt and sugar jars when we had to make soufflés for an exam. I’m sure you remember that vividly.”

“No!” he lifts his finger up in warning. “I know it was too far but I also knew you’d be smart enough to taste before using! I knew you weren’t going to fall for it.”

“And yet you did it anyways,” you laugh, shaking your head as you remind yourself to not waste your time trying to find logic in Seokjin’s actions. “You’re so fucking lucky I didn’t fall for it. If I had used salt instead of sugar, I would have flunked and would have kicked your ass,” you tell him and you absolutely mean it. If his sabotage or fake sabotage had worked, you would have murdered him in cold blood, then and there.

“I trusted that the most brilliant chef on our year would taste the ingredients before using them,” he tries to flatter you to save himself and it works. It fucking works, because here you are, laughing.

“You’re such an ass,” you shake your head at him, chuckling at his antics. “But yeah. You did it, I didn’t fall for it, you lived. Do you remember when Jimin did that to Taehyung?”

“Yes,” Seokjin bursts into laughter. “And Taehyung did fall for it but it wasn’t for an exam, was it?”

“Nope, it was just regular class,” you confirm, smiling at the memory. “He was chasing Jimin around the hallways with that big ass whisk that hung on the wall as decoration.”

“What the hell was that whisk there for?” Seokjin’s eyes are wide and he sits up, suddenly… being irritated by a whisk? “It was always there, since day one. Just that one gigantic whisk. No one ever used it, right? It was just… there. What was the purpose of it?”

“Other than almost being used as a murder weapon once, I don’t think it was ever used for anything.”

“Do you remember that one time Jungkook had dropped one of those 10kg bags of flour?”  

“Oh god, he dropped it on Hoseok’s foot!” you jump up, suddenly remembering the scene that you didn’t think about in years. You can even recall the sound of pain that had left Hoseok. “And the bag ripped!” tears run down your face as you laugh at yet another idiotic memory of your school days.

“We were cleaning that damn flour all day,” Jin adds and you can clearly remember being on all fours with the rest of your class, laughing and cursing as you wipe the mess your friends made earlier, while someone was playing some random song way too loud.

Wiping away your tears, you take a deep breath, wondering if by the time your hour runs out, you’ll have to reluctantly admit that this exercise wasn’t so shitty after all.

“Can you manage?” Seokjin asks as he lets you lean on him again, on full alert to catch you if you stumble. You confirm with a nod. “Are you sure?” he checks again but you don’t have the time to answer as Lucy, the lady in charge, comes rushing towards the two of you.

“Hi!” She smiles in a way that makes you feel instantly uncomfortable. “Namjoon tells me that the two of you are team leaders in your respective restaurants.”

“Well, not really. We’re the team leaders in the kitchen, not in the restaurants,” Seokjin explains.

“Yeah, we’re not in charge for the front of house teams,” you add, looking around the hall where everyone else had already started to gather. “If you want team leaders, you’d need us, Yoongi and Namjoon as well as Mina and Wendy. We’re all in charge of different tasks.”

“Yeah, but kitchen teamwork is the most important,” Lucy laughs.

“Um, not necessarily,” Seokjin counters her immediately. “Front of house is just as important as-“

“Yes, but Namjoon tells me the two of you don’t exactly get along,” Lucy interrupts him. You shake your head, having just spent an hour down memory lane with Seokjin – Namjoon’s kiss ass, teacher’s pet nature is still showing after all these years. “I think it would set a good example for other pairs if the two of you go first. Are you up for it?” she asks and Seokjin turns to you, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why not?” you would shrug too, if you weren’t too busy clutching onto Seokjin’s arm.

“Perfect, follow me,” she orders the two of you and you follow her, standing behind her as she faces the rest of your co-workers. The entire scene must be comical, seeing as you are still very much hopping and clinging onto Seokjin and neither of you have any idea what’s about to happen. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, starting to laugh when you glare at him. Oh, but he doesn’t stop there – while Lucy talks, he wiggles his eyebrows and you don’t need to be a genius to know he’s teasing you for your arm candy. Here you go again, thinking about what he said last night.

“Y/N,” you snap out of your daze when Lucy calls your name. Shit, you weren’t listening. “Go on. Tell us what you admire about Seokjin.”

Oh fucking hell, no wonder why most of your co-workers look like they’re a few seconds away from laughing. Just a few days ago, you wanted to snap his neck, not caring who’d be there to witness it and now you are supposed to talk about him and what you admire most about him. In public. In front of people who have known you, and have more than enough blackmail material, for years.

“Can I just like… get a chair?” you ask awkwardly and thank god, Lucy walks over quickly to drag one to you. Once you’re seated and no longer attached to Seokjin, he does the same and sits his chair next to yours while you wait in awkward silence and pray this moment won’t last long because everyone is watching you and you want to cry. “Okay. I guess it’s not a secret that Seokjin and I aren’t exactly best of friends,” you start, immediately embarrassed by the few snickers coming from your co-workers.

“That’s an understatement,” Jimin mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’re a jackass,” you smile at him, ignoring the kiss he blows your way. “Anyways, I know Seokjin and I aren’t always on the same page but when I think of what I admire about him…” you pause, thinking of right words to express your thoughts. “I admire his talent. He is a brilliant chef. Of course, I’m better, don’t get it twisted,” everyone in the room laughs at your remark, even Seokjin. Which is a relief, as much as you hate to admit it. ”I humbly think that I’m better a better chef, but I work hard. And way back when, I studied hard. Seokjin never had to. He’s a natural. I’ve… seen him improvise and create amazing dishes without much effort. Or at least he just knows how to make it look easy. But yeah, I admire his ability. And even though I will deny saying this for the rest of my life, I kind of envy him for it too.��

Everyone laughs and when you find the strength in you to look at him, you notice Seokjin smiling. Something that you’ve never noticed before is how calm and content he looks when he’s smiling. It’s miles away from his roaring laughter, just a simple smile and a nod of his head that tells you he’s thankful for your words. He has a beautiful smile and you’ve never paid attention to it before.

You look away immediately once you realize this, but you make the mistake of looking towards Jungkook. Whatever it is that just happened, he saw it. And you’re pretty sure you’ll get an earful later, judging by the way he questioningly raised his eyebrows at you.

“I might regret being completely honest here, so I’ll pull Y/N’s card and if anyone uses this against me, I’ll deny it,” a chorus of chuckles follows Seokjin’s words. You listen carefully but don’t dare to look at him – staring at your convers seems much more appealing right now. “I admire Y/N’s ability to be one with you guys. The way she gets along with her team is amazing. I know I have an amazing team that has my back always but Hoseok straight up sabotaged his own team yesterday during paintball because he’s that loyal to his actual team. Y/N is the glue that keeps you together, functioning as well as you do. I try to do the same. Not sure if it works but I truly admire that about her.”

You’re not sure if Seokjin knows how much hearing that meant to you. Shame swallows you when you realize you didn’t do half as much to portray him as someone you admire, even though not a single word of what you’ve said was a lie. Knowing that someone, someone who is arguably just as good as you are in the industry that you are in, thinks that you are admirable for the way you lead your team has to be one of the best compliments that you have ever received.

He didn’t praise you in an over the top way and honestly, he didn’t have to. He said the one thing that you actually hoped to hear, from someone, at some point in your career.

Did Seokjin know that? Was it a happy accident or does he actually pay attention enough to know how much your relationship with your team matters to you? Before this weekend team building disaster, you would have laughed at the suggestion that Seokjin had paid enough attention to notices something like that. After everything that has happened since, you’re not so sure. Maybe Seokjin did pay attention, more than you ever have.

There’s a thing that Jungkook does whenever he has something to say, but doesn’t want to say it. He tends to purse his lips, either in annoyance or in a desperate attempt to hold back his laughter. He looks away from the person he wants to say it to and it’s usually followed with his leg bouncing up and down.

The lip thing started while you were still at the hotel parking lot. The leg thing started half a mile ago.

“Whatever it is that you’re holding back, just say it.” you know you sound irritated and he hasn’t even said anything. But knowing him, and sadly, you know him well, whatever it is… it’s going to bother you.

“I’m not holding back anything,” he insists, but he almost breaks out in a chuckle. He is barely holding back. You can tell that it’s coming.

“Say it!” you growl at him.

“Seokjin and Y/N, sitting in a tree,” he starts singing. Yep, you were right. It is bothering you. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes rivalry, then comes flirting, then comes-“

“Oh my god, stop!” you whine. The last thing you want to hear is how he plans on finishing the song. “I knew you were holding something back. There’s nothing happening with Seokjin!”

“I know there isn’t, you’re still in denial,” he laughs, not moving his eyes from the road. “You are now entering Denialtown. Population: Y/N.”

The easiest way to get Jungkook of your case is to simply ignore him. If you play along, he’ll take that as a confirmation and think that he’s right. If you get defensive, he won’t let it go, at least not before this car ride is over. The best thing you could do was ignore him and stare through the window in silence. At least the view is beautiful, with the purple, orange and pinkish sky. You didn’t get any rest over this weekend but at least you got a chance to spend some time outside, much more than you do on your regular weekends. Although a spa weekend would have been better. A spa weekend spent alone.

“I know you’re trying to shut me out,” you hear Jungkook chuckle. “By all means, do that. Still doesn’t change that Seokjin has the hots for you and judging by those exchanged looks between you, you don’t seem to mind.”

You wanted to deny but you kept your mouth shut, knowing how this will play out. Of course you looked at him – it would have been incredibly rude not to, seeing as you spent a good chunk of the day talking with him. What Jungkook is forgetting and you can’t is that you are still very much hurt with the events that preceded this weekend. Sure, Seokjin is acting all nice and yes, he’s not that bad to look at. Also, he did apologize for stealing your recipe but that doesn’t change the fact that he did it. You are still salty about it and whenever that saltiness starts to die down, you’ll remind yourself of it, just like you’re doing now. He can act all friendly and chummy but he straight up harmed your career.

The only reason he was being nice is because he knows what he has done. Perhaps he even fears your possible retaliation. Nice and cute he can be, but if you were not angry to the point of seeing red, this weekend wouldn’t even happen. He wouldn’t have been acting the way he was. You are 100% sure that he would have been his normal, annoying self, if that human part of him wasn’t feeling guilty.

“Do you think you’ll manage tomorrow on your own?” you blatantly change the topic. If he could afford to look away from the road before him, Jungkook would see that you are not amused, not in the least. Your tone must be enough for him to figure it out, because his teasing demeanor stops instantly, his smile turning into a frown. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to stand tomorrow. At least not for the whole shift,” you tell him.

It was settled before you left, that Jungkook will take your place. Namjoon insisted that you rest, however long it takes and no matter how much you were fighting him on it, he’s the boss and his word is last. He also had a good point – if you were to strain yourself, it could easily backfire and lead to more pain or a longer paid sick leave. Sure, it hurts less than it did yesterday and tomorrow morning, it’ll probably be better, but you know that Namjoon was right and that you really shouldn’t risk it.

That meant that your kitchen, your precious kitchen and team, will be in Jungkook’s hands tomorrow.

“It’s not the first time that I have to run the kitchen. Don’t you trust me?” Jungkook asks and you instantly feel bad for even asking if he’d be able to do it. You didn’t ask because you have doubts in his ability – you asked because you want to make sure that he’s comfortable.

“I’d trust you with my life, you dumbass,” you tell him and instantly feel your shoulders sag in relief when he starts laughing. “I don’t doubt your ability, I never have. I’m simply asking because before we’ve had time to prepare for you being in charge and me being away. This time it’s pretty sudden and I really don’t feel like pushing you into the fire.”

“I can handle fire just fine,” he reassures you. “And in case I need help, you’re one call away. Just… do your best to take this time to relax, not just rest your leg. Fuck, when’s the last time you’ve had a proper vacation?” he asks.

“Uh… define proper vacation.”

“More than three days off? In a row?” he suggests.

“Never?” you wonder out loud. “Not since I’ve started working full time, at least. I think I took a week off when we worked back at Dino’s?”

“Y/N, you need to take a little break,” Jungkook sounds serious, which suddenly makes you feel guilty because of your own irresponsibility. Looking away from him and focusing on the colorful sky again, you wonder how much your workaholic behavior had affected you without even realizing.

It’s not that you were missing any warning signs: you don’t feel overworked, you don’t hate your job, you do have hobbies you enjoy doing when you’re not working. If trying out new recipes, watching movies and hanging out with friends can count as hobbies. On the surface, it’s all fine and dandy but not taking more than three days off in a row is simply not normal. Being in love with your job and fully dedicated to it does not mean that you can’t be negatively affected by it.

Thinking back on the day of the review… a part of you really wanted to strangle Seokjin, then and there. There’s a whole backstory that almost made violence become your solution but maybe it was something more. Lack of patience, stress… Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you but suddenly taking a few days off doesn’t sound like such a horrible idea.

“You know, maybe asking Namjoon to take this whole week off is what I need to do.”

“That sounds good,” Jungkook agrees immediately. “You can rest your leg, relax, think of recipes for the fall menu… take some time off for yourself. I can handle the kitchen for a week.”

“Of course you can. One fine day when I grow a pair and decide to open my own restaurant, you’re going to be a head chef. Being in charge of everything for a little bit is going to be a good practice for that,” you tell him even though you’re pretty he could do a damn good job, even now.

“And here I thought I was going to be your sous chef forever,” he tells you. You immediately laugh but as you turn to look at him, there is a trace of a pout on his lips. Yeah, he’s joking but it doesn’t seem like this kind of joke sounds good to him. You want to coo at his pouty face.

“Kook. You can’t be my second in command forever,” you tell him, leaning over to tap him on the shoulder. “You’re too good of a chef for that. We’re a great team but keeping you a sous chef forever would be an insult to your talent. I’m not planning on going anywhere for now, so you have plenty of time to get used to the idea. But when I open my own place, Bonsai’s kitchen is yours. Unless you get sick of me first and leave,” you joke. “Or we can be partners and open our own place?”

“Nah,” Jungkook shakes his head so quickly, you almost feel insulted at the speed of his refusal. “You’ll open a place with Seokjin when the two of you get married.”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. How lovely, you can no longer even have a touching conversation without him turning it right back to the part where he teases you relentlessly. “You know, I might just speed up to the leaving part and leave your sorry ass in the kitchen alone.”

“I’m just joking!”

 You haven’t even realized how much you’ve missed the comfort of your own apartment, not until you closed the front door and leaned on it with your eyes closed. Too much has happened and instead of being a relaxing, team building event, this weekend felt more like two and a half days of pure stress, with a few jokes and a couple of drinks to make it easier.

Waddling your way to the kitchen, you decide to do the one thing that always helps you de-stress: cook.

It doesn’t take you long to pick out the ingredients and get ready for prep. Wash hands, butterfly the chicken breasts, move them to a plate, season them with salt and pepper, wash everything. Use a new chopping board and knife, get the cheese and prosciutto ready. Fill the chicken with cheese, wrap it with prosciutto. Pan on medium heat, oil. Get out the sauce ingredients and gnocchi.

It’s only when you’re opening the bag of gnocchi that you realize what you’re making. Using the ingredients at hand, things you had ready to go, food that needed to be used before going bad, you ended up halfway through the infamous chicken recipe that was reviewed by the critic.

Frowning, you take out another pan. You’re going to roast the damn gnocchi this time. Just a little, to get the outside to a subtle crunch, since the renowned mister food critic preferred them that way. Cooking them to al dente, you throw them into the heated pan, chunk a bunch of fresh rosemary in it and pour a bit of olive oil, waiting for the cast iron to do its trick.

By the time the chicken is done, the gnocchi is too, and with a quick tomato sauce, you’re ready to go. Finishing it off with a dash of balsamic vinegar, because even when you’re at home, you’re still a damn good head chef, you waddle your way to the kitchen island, ignoring the dishes that are now filling up the sink: that’s tomorrow Y/N’s problem.

Scooping a tiny piece of chicken and one tiny gnocco, you dab them in sauce and try it, approaching it as head chef Y/N, not a hungry, regular person Y/N.

Seconds pass as you chew, analyzing every kind of flavor that you get through the bite, all the sweet, salty and savory undertones in that one bite. And the textures, the textures that your original recipe lacked, because you did not pan sear the gnocchi.

“Damn you, Kim Seokjin,” you sigh, stabbing the chicken with your fork rather ferociously. “You really did make it better, didn’t you?”

You wanted to be mad, you really did. Salty, like you were before. And a huge part of you still was. Angry at him for taking the recipe, angry at yourself for not thinking about adding a new layer of texture to the dish before he did… yeah, a part of you was angry. But a different part of you, the one who didn’t want to stab that poor piece of chicken, was thinking of that smile Seokjin makes – that cute, content smile, when he closes his eyes, his lips subtly lift up at the corners and dimples appear.

The bitter taste in your mouth had nothing to do with the dish you’ve just made. It had everything to do with Seokjin and you once again wondering to yourself, how the hell did it get to this?

That’s a question you don’t know how to answer but you’re sure as hell glad Jungkook isn’t here to tease you about it. A girl can only handle so much when she’s wondering if the relationship with her arch nemesis now involves different kinds of… feelings.

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: When They Get Jealous

Characters: Nevada Ramirez, Okoye, George “Digger” Harkness, Lucifer Morningstar, Clyde Logan

Nevada Ramirez

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. Don’t get anything in that pretty little head of yours twisted: Nevada “El Trujillo” Ramirez does not stoop so low as to feel jealous. Jealousy is what a pussy incapable of keeping his woman feels. And Nevada don’t never gotta worry about that type of bullshit.

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. Not even when he sees some jackass getting a little too handsy with you. He gets angry, sure. But not out of jealousy: It’s because that dumbass just doesn’t know his place. He knows you’re too sweet for your own good, that you’ve never been particularly good with confrontation or speaking up when it came to strangers; luckily for you, your boyfriend is more than happy to lend you a hand with that problem.

He sees you smile all wobbly at the asshole, brows ever so slightly furrowed over eyes that whimper in panic. Maybe even reads your lips a bit. He can’t hear you over the thudding bass of the club, but he knows you well enough to know that you’re stuttering, your voice quivering as you try ever so gently to politely shut him down. It almost makes Nevada want to smirk: You’re trying to help your own pest, give him a head start and give him a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that, and you know it the moment you see two of ‘Vada’s boys stalk up to you and your new friend, with one of them grunting that it’s “time to go.”

You’re pretty sure your “new friend” knows it’s too late as well, given how he tenses, but the hand he has on your lower, lower back stays. Maybe even applies further pressure. He tries (stupidly) to hold his ground. But the ground can’t hold him; not as Nevada’s boys pick him up effortlessly and drag him off to a more dimly-lit section of the club. The only thing shining brightly from that corner being the exit sign.

Fifteen minutes later, your boyfriend joins you. He would pretend that he doesn’t know why your lips are pressed in disapproval, and that he doesn’t see how your brows are still furrowed but this time, in a way to suggest disapproval. And you would pretend that you don’t smell the smell of cigarettes smoked in the alley, or sweat worked up from an activity he got too into. More importantly, you pretend that you don’t see his bruised and bloodied knuckles as he rests and arm about you, gently ushering you closer to him as he murmurs about how lonely you looked without your Papi around.

Instead, you give in to the kiss he gives you. His idea of an apology without outright owning up to it.

Nevada Ramirez does not get jealous. He gets even.

Okoye

On the outside, she is calm and collected. The very image of the perfect warrior. But on the inside? Okoye is blaze with passion. Of course, her fierceness shined through when it came to protection, particularly that of her country, her king, her queen, her princess, and, of course, you. But it was ultimately her taciturn countenance that people took note of, which makes her all the more deadly to the unassuming.

Case in point, if she sees anyone putting the moves on you — man or woman — they will find themselves in one of two situations: They will either have the tip of an often-used vibranium spear pointed at them, or they will be requested to help Okoye spar. And, more often than not, the latter is what she chooses to apply.

Mind you, the challenged needn’t be a member of the Dora -- they needn’t even be a seasoned combatant or even have so much as an orange belt in Tae Kwon Do. Which frankly isn’t very fair, considering they’d be receiving a challenge from the head of Wakandan security, but oh, Okoye will insist: “There are few things more patriotic than assisting your protectors where they need the assistance,” she says. The smile she speaks with is very slight, but there’s no doubt from anyone who knows here that there’s a sliver of malice in them.

There’s really no need to go into how the match goes, especially since it’s obvious who the victor is every single time. Generally speaking, there are only four things that bare mentioning:

For one, no matter how much of a sweat or how bruised and banged up her opponent gets, Okoye always goes easy on them. Always. For two, every blue moon, Okoye might let them land a hit on her. However, this is out of pity as well as being for show. Because in the event they so much as scratch her, there’s the third thing: At the end of every sparring match, you go up to your beloved, singing her praises or to offer her a cloth to dab what little sweat she might have shed, or to tend to whatever sores she might have received. But whatever the case, you always go to her.

Fourthly, none of Okoye’s opponents ever try getting cozy with you again.

George “Digger” Harkness

Digger’s got a lot of nerves, daring to actually exhibit jealousy. He’s not a cheater, no, but he sure doesn’t exactly keep his eyes locked and loaded on you as much as you would like for him to. The amount of times he’s earned your ire for glancing at a jiggling ass or checking out a pair of swaying hips could fill a small novel.

So you (pretend) that it isn’t petty when you finally gain the opportunity to enact revenge on him.

Considering that his release from Belle Reve wasn’t exactly officiated by actual personnel (and was, in fact, just a flat-out jailbreak), your beloved Aussie had to lay low for a bit. That meant that in order to keep the feds from knocking down your door and getting you more involved than what you already were, Digger had to hide from place to place for a bit before he could even dream of returning back to you and setting up shop in your humble abode. But just because his life was sort of on pause didn’t mean that yours had to be.

It seemed like every time Digger gave you a ring from a burner phone, you were about to be headed out somewhere or were planning on going to an event with friends. Really, the fact that you wanted to go somewhere wild should’ve been a big indication to Digger that you were pulling his leg, but it didn’t matter: On the occasion that you sent a pic of what you planned on wearing, the jealousy consumed him.

You were going out? In that outfit? In that color you know makes you irresistible to both him and probably literally anyone with functioning eyes and a working downstairs!? Well, no, actually: While you did occasionally join your friends for a night out on the town, it was rarely ever in any of the outfits you implanted in Digger’s mind. And even then, for the most part, you weren’t actually going anywhere except to the couch to scroll YouTube or binge watch New Girl until you fell asleep.

But of course, Digger never thought this might’ve been the case. Instead, he thought to enlist the help of “friends” to keep an eye on you and report back to him if any bastard’s eyes or hands went anywhere they didn’t belong, aka on you. And when those efforts came up fruitless (he refused to believe them when they insisted you weren’t acting up), he took matters into his own hands: His dumb ass cut his location-hopping a bit short, appearing at your door a frustrated and possessive mess as he wasted no time storming through the door, hoiking you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes so he could take you to the bedroom and “remind you who you belong to.”

So, in short, Digger’s main resort when he can actually be around you is his go-to for most things he gets involved in that isn’t thievery: He, ahem, “smashes your back out”. Lovely.

Lucifer Morningstar

Lucifer swears he doesn’t get jealous but since he doesn’t think it’s a lie, he’s technically not lying. But he’s most definitely not being forthcoming with the truth. And that truth is that when he gets jealous, Luci becomes the most petty baby of them all!

Normally, he’s pretty confident that he has your attention. After all, what’s not to love? He’s sexy, talented, witty, interesting, and, oh yeah, the literal embodiment of enticement and charisma. Regular men just simply cannot compare! . . . So why in the Heaven would you be smiling at such a drab, bipedal specimen who thinks that they can replace having a personality with simply owning a pocket watch in this day and age!?

He doesn’t care that that guy is your coworker, he’s boring and stupid and there’s no way you really find him interesting, right? . . . Right?

If left to his own devices (hell, he’ll make the devices himself even if you protest), Luci will go out of his way to try and prove that that guy isn’t worth your attention and that you should please keep it on your loving Devil instead please. He’ll bequeath him unpleasant sobriquets; he’ll enlist his connections to dig up some dirt; if you leave them alone together for too long, Lucifer might even ask him what his deepest desire is. But these will often fall flat on the ass: The nicknames will roll off the “opposition’s” back like water off a duck (or you’ll fuss at Lucifer to quit it); the worst thing that could be dug up was that he was a college republican or something; and apparently his deepest desire is to acquire a copy of the Star Wars holiday special.

And somehow, that’s even worse!!

He might actually become a little pathetic (which, considering it’s Lucifer, probably just means his hair becomes a bit less combed, his clothes become more disheveled, and he might even somehow become even more clingy and demanding and even direct his pettiness towards you) because (Y/N), please, you can’t seriously be considering leaving your handsome, interesting, Devil for some boring, sad, oblivious piece of --

Really, the best way to get Lucifer to stop pestering is by reminding him who you’re with: Himself. After all, you’re not going home with the guy from work. Nor do you let him rest his head on your lap so you can play with his hair, or giving him your kisses, or letting him touch you in places only Heaven and Hell know drive you wild.

No . . . Those are reserved only for Lucifer, your beloved Hell bastard, for better or for worse. But mostly for the better -- even though he can sometimes just be the worst.

Clyde Logan

It really depends on the environment, because it ultimately can go one of two ways based on that alone. Clyde thinks the world of you, that you must be some kind of angel to see something good enough in him worth dating. And while it’s a bit of a confidence-booster in some respects, it also leads to a lot of other worries, highlighting even further his own long-term insecurities.

In a way, he’s both shocked and glad that you don’t get hit on every moment of every day the moment you walk out the house: You’re clearly the most gorgeous gal ever. You deserve acknowledgement of this! But then again, he doesn’t want so many eyes on you; one pair might most definitely belong to somebody better for you than him: Better-looking, better at talking, better socially, better job . . .

So when the two of you are out grocery shopping or visiting a local farmer’s market or anything and some rugged fox of a man casts a sensual smirk your way, Clyde can’t help but gain the demeanor of a nervous puppy, his large frame seemingly shrinking as his long hair curtains his face. If he had a tail, it would most certainly have tucked itself between his legs. It only gets slightly better when you only return a polite but small smile and take your partner’s hand to gently lead him elsewhere. But only slightly. It may take some cuddles and smooches when you get home to properly perk Clyde back up, but that’s far from something you mind doing.

However, should you both be at Duck Tape, or any other gathering that might make use of a mixologist for that matter? Clyde is in his element.

Clyde isn’t one to boast or show off; it’s not compatible with his shy nature, and his belief in the Logan Family Curse just doesn’t allow for him to get greedy about it. But if one night you drop by to visit him at work and he sees some guy making goo-goo eyes and hokey small talk at you? It’s on.

It doesn’t matter what drink the guy orders: Clyde immediately knows how to make it and make it perfectly, utilizing only his organic hand. The concoctions are mixed with such ease and precision, his every move emoting a sense of confidence that the unsuspecting would never have guessed a man like him could possess. And if he would be so bold, Clyde might even do so while barely breaking eye contact. It’s all the more better if the guy flirting with you tries ordering a drink for you himself. Because that’s when Clyde can start off with the man’s drink . . . before making you a completely different one entirely. The patron’s brow furrows.

“That’s . . . not what I ordered for her,” he points out.

And Clyde nods. “Nope. But that’s her favorite, and I reckon she’d prefer that over what you wanted her to have.”

You toasting at your beloved and offering a, “Thanks, honey” only sweetens the deal.

There aren’t many opportunities where Clyde feels like The Big Man on Campus, so to speak. But moments like that, where he feels he gets to show some of his worth? He can’t help but be a bit emboldened by them.

Of course, it goes without saying that it isn’t the drink-mixing or skill that drew you to him: It’s that sweet, thoughtful disposition of his. Because let’s face it: In a county of foxes and wolves, you can’t beat a sweet-eyed puppy-dog.