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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 6 Sakamaki Laito Skit Dolce Tokuten Drama CD: “Absurd Lesson”

Original title: 理不尽レッスン

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 6 Sakamaki Laito Skit Dolce Tokuten Drama CD

Audio: N/A

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: I never thought there would be a day where I get to hear Laito gush about make-up, haha. Honestly, it makes sense why he would be knowledgeable on the topic though. I’m not an expert on the topic myself IN THE SLIGHTEST so I had to look up a lot of the terms, haha. I never wear make-up myself IRL but thankfully my mom does so I know some bits of pieces because of that.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

*Knock knock*

“Bitch-chan? Can I come in?”

You give him permission.

“Hey there~! Are preparations going well?”

You ask him if it’s time to leave on your date.

“No, it’s not time yet. You’ve got another hour until we’re supposed to meet up. I finished getting ready early, so I figured I’d come and check up on your progress instead~”

He steps closer.

“I don’t think there’s anything which could make a man happier than watching his girlfriend try her absolute hardest to doll up for their date~? You were going to put on your make-up next, right? Just pretend that I’m not here, okay? Go ahead, continue~”

You start doing your make-up as Laito watches.

*Rustle rustle*

“Staaaaaare.”

You grow nervous.

“My bad~ Your serious expression is just so cute, I couldn’t help but look.”

You get self-conscious, wondering if you look strange.

“That’s not true at all! You were just so adorable. I got captivated. ーー That’s half of my reasoning, and the other half is to・tease・you.”

You get upset.

“Nfu~ Sorry~”

You continue putting on your make-up.

“...Woah there!”

*Thud*

“Sorry, Bitch-chan. I’m going to borrow this lipstick for a second, okay?”

You protest.

“Oh no! I’m not going to tease you! I just thought that rather than this color, the one over there would suit you much better!”

You frown.

“While I won’t deny that a bright red lipstick is quite sexy and really stands out, I think a pink hue goes much better with your skin. Also, taking your outfit of the day into account...out of the different shades of pink, I’d say this one which goes a little more to the purple side would be a good choice!”

*Pop*

“...Well then, Bitch-chan. Part your lips slightly.”

You hesitate.

“It’s a necessary step when applying lipstick, no? Come on, open your mouth. ‘Aaahn’. Wide enough for one index finger to fit inside.”

You part your lips.

“Aww, you look so cute when making that face~”

You protest again.

“Fufu, my bad~ I’ll shut up now and apply lipstick.”

*Rustle rustle*

“ーー There we go, all done!”

You compliment his choice.

“Right~? I’m pretty good at giving girls advice on how to make themselves look even cuter through the magic of make-up~! ーー With that said, let me finish your look!”

You nod.

“Thank you! I’ll put a spell on you to make you super-duper cute! After the lipstick...Let’s see. How about we put some eyeliner around your eyes? You went for a pink eyeshadow, right? You did a great job with the gradient! It fits you very well!”

You blush.

“So I’m thinking of adding some eyeliner here. Do you have ones you usually use?”

*Rattle rattle*

“With today’s look, I wouldn’t go for black but...Ah! This! A brown eye pencil will work much better! It will match well with the overall look, emphasizing your appeal by creating more of a gentle look.”

*Thud*

“First we draw a line along the lashes first, then use a cotton swab to soften up the rough edges on the outside ーー and it’s done!”

You seem impressed by his knowledge.

“You want to know why I know so much about make-up? Hmー I’ve gotten a bit hooked on make-up tutorials as of late and must have picked up on a lot of techniques while watching.”

You ask him about the tutorials.

“Those kinds of videos are really interesting, you know? When do you ever get to see a girl without make-up on otherwise? However, to teach the viewers how to create a certain look from scratch, they have no other choice but to expose their bare face~ Their natural appearance without any additional decorations!

I enjoy watching those who get embarrassed, although the confident ones are fun as well. I started watching those videos out of my own desire to see a plethora of different expressions and naturally learnt about make-up on the way. By the way, my preferred way to watch these videos is by first skipping ahead to the end of the video to see the finished look, then rewind back to the beginning and compare it to their face without any make-uーー”

*Rustle*

“Ah! Bitch-chan! You just scrunched up your nose in disgust, didn’t you? However, thanks to those videos, I was able to help you out today, so I don’t think it was in vain!”

You puff out your cheeks.

“Nfu~ You’re such a simpleton, Bitch-chan.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Oh no, I didn’t say anything! ...Well then, let’s do your eyelashes next.”

You seem surprised.

“Of course! You might think it’s unnecessary since you have naturally long and appealing lashes, but if you leave only those untouched, it’ll look out of place.”

*Rustle*

“Speaking of which, you usually never apply anything on there, huh? Are you not too fond of eyelash curlers, perhaps?”

You nod.

“Yeah, They do look kind of scary, don’t they? I totally get the fear of getting your lashes stuck in between them! But don’t worry! I’ll do it for you today.”

*Thud*

“Relax your eyelids, okay?”

You tense up.

“Fufu, your lashes are quivering, how cute. Don’t be scared. It won’t hurt. I’ll be gentle, so just entrust your body to me, okay?”

You seem skeptical.

“You’re hurting my feelings! I swear I’m only doing this out of a genuine intention to make you even prettier! I mean, it’d be bad if I were to hurt you, right?”

You agree.

“So keep still, okay? It’s dangerous to move while I’m using the curler, wouldn’t you agree? Or do you want it to be painful, perhaps? ...Fufu~ Just kidding! Well then, let’s keep going. I’ll use the curler to help your eyelashes curl upwards…”

*Rustle*

“ーー There! ...Uwah! They curled really nicely since they’re so long!”

You sigh in relief.

*Thud*

“Well then, I’m gonna apply the mascara now, okay?”

He grabs the mascara.

“Open your eyes and look slightly upwards.Since your lashes are already very pretty to begin with, I only need to apply a thin layer. This’ll just add that extra ‘oomph’ to the tips of the hairs. ...Mmh, a fine job, if I may say so myself~”

You smile.

“Nfu~ Did you fall in love all over again after discovering this new side of me? If this were a shoujo manga, there would be flowers floating in the background now~ Well then, let’s finish the look by adding a touch of blush to your cheeks!”

You seem surprised you’ll be applying blush as well.

“Mmh! When you go the extra mile to add blush, it adds another dimension! Furthermore, having a slight color to your complexion creates a better overall look. So no buts and just leave it to me, okay? I’ll be using…”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ta-dah~! I just so happen to have a cream blush over here!”

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Fufufu~ I’m a magician today! I can easily pull a fitting type of blush from my pockets~ ーー Just kidding. I found it by pure coincidence the other day and thought it would fit you, so I bought it as a surprise gift.”

You thank him.

“I’m glad you seem to like it. I’ll put this on as well then, okay?”

*Tap*

“First you spread it around on your palms, then lightly tap it against the cheeks~ Just to add some slight contouring to the face. ...There! Now you’re exactly my style! (1) ...Here, take a look.”

*Rustle*

“It blends in nicely after applying it, don’t you think? Your skin looks even more bright now! ーー And with that, your 100% lovable pink look is complete! My cute princess, what do you think of the end result?”

You smile and look delighted.

“I’m flattered you seem to like it so much. Today I used my own techniques, but feel free to adjust them and turn it into your own thing from tomorrow onwards~

...Haah~ You’re usually adorable already, but today your cuteness is on another level. ...Ah, right! We have to take one shot to remember this amazing occasion! ...Come on, say cheese!’

*Snap*

“There we go! It turned out great! I’m so happy I was able to capture a shot of you looking extra cute!”

You grow flustered.

“I’m only stating the truth, no? Well then, your make-up is all done, so let’s head out on our date once you’ve changed clothes, okay?”

You nod.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally, Laito says that she has been ‘dyed his hue’. This is a common idiom when lovers influence each other by adapting each other's customs, style, etc.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd #diabolik lovers daylight

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ptergwen · 4 years

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from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they��re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel

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tinisprout · 3 years

Text

A Kiss to Remember

Pairing: Hyunjae x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pinning

Warnings: profanities like a lot, alcohol consumption, jokes of killing

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: After a kiss you spend a month of trying to figure out your own feeling you come to the conclusion that you like Hyunjae. You wonder how to deal with these feelings, especially when he doesn't feel that way about you, at least that's what you think.

a/n: Happy birthday Hyunjae Im a little late y'all don't mind that.

When you have been friends for so long is it better to just stay as such? Should I just bury these budding feelings before, it becomes something I can’t handle? I look at my hand, the one that casually reached out to him and had been reached out to by him many times before. It was only recently that holding him like that made my heart tickle. After today there is no denying my feelings, I like Hyunjae.

“So do I just cut them off or…,” I bite my lip struggling with a decision. How would I even go about stopping these feelings?! “Ugh, why does he suddenly have to be so appealing.” around a month ago after one of our nights out drinking, we somehow ended up making out. Sure we always lightly flirted with each other, but that’s just how we are, nothing was ever taken seriously like there was a line we knew that shouldn’t be crossed.

That night it was crossed, but I’m the only one that has any recollection of it happening. Hyunjae remembers nothing of that night and I’m left to deal with these complicated feelings. I didn’t tell him cause, whatever, it’s not like we have feelings for each other anyways. It’s just something that happened, I don’t have to make a big deal of it. That’s what I thought at first, then I noticed how my eyes started to linger on him.

For this past month, I’ve been trying to gauge these feelings for him, to say I like him after one measly kiss is too much. Now I know for sure, but what do I do now? How he acts towards me now is no different from how he’s always treated me, so it’s not like he looks at me in that way.

“No, this is not what I should be thinking about right now! I have to get ready, gotta go soon.”

Hyunjae’s birthday party is tonight, I can’t make today about me. I’ll just act like normal today, he’ll never know the difference.

***

Walking into the designated lounge room for Hyunjae’s party I was greeted by a few familiar faces and some unfamiliar. I was given a wave and nod by some of my friends before almost being knocked off my feet.

“Y/N! You’re finally here, I’ve been waiting for you!” Hyunjae throws himself into my arms giving me a tight squeeze. I freeze up and then remind myself that I should act naturally.

“And a hello to you too. Drunk already I see birthday boy,” I say tapping his back with one hand trying to not get too close. Jacob comes up offering a smile in greeting and I smile back.

“You need to control yourself,” Jacob says then pulling Hyunjae off me falling into his arms, and I thank him with a nod. Hyunjae struggles in Jacob’s hold wanting to break free, then Jacob whispers something in Hyunjae’s ears and he stops struggling, instead, slumping in his arms letting himself be dragged away back to his seat. Looking back to the rest of the table I see my best friend Sunwoo waving me over the free spot next to him. I take a seat and Sunwoo pulls me in giving me a side hug and I reciprocate, doing the same.

“So you want to tell me what that was all about?” He leans in whispering to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? I saw the way you blushed like a schoolgirl that was told they are cute by their crush when Hyunjae hugged you.”

“No way!” In shock, I pull away from Sunwoo rubbing at my forehead. I pretend I don’t see the eyes of everyone else go to me at my outburst, and get closer to Sunwoo, whispering again. “Was I that obvious?”

“So you’re admitting that there was something going on there?” He gives a sly smirk and I realize I’ve been had.

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah yeah, but why am I only hearing about this today?”

“Because I’ve only acknowledged it myself today.”

“Acknowledged it? Just how long have I been out of the loop and does that mean that the two of you are…?” He trailed off letting me fill in the blank.

“Nothing. This is all just one-sided, he should have no idea.”

“You’re fucking kidding me right?”

“What?” Sunwoo sighs at my words and wraps his arms around my shoulder again.

“I’m your bestie, right? I’m also Hyunjae’s friend, correct?”

“Yes, and?”

“Exactly. Now, look at Hyunjae. If anyone else was in my position with you, he would not be looking at us, like a sad frog, but glaring at the person in my place. You get it?” Hyunjae did have his stupid-looking frog face on display, but no, that probably cause he was reprimanded by Jacob.

“No, Hyunjae doesn’t see me like that.”

“Sure maybe at the start of your friendship he didn’t, but the way I see it is, there is a -2% chance that he doesn’t see you that way.”

“And the way I see it is that I shouldn’t even be thinking about this tonight. I just want to get through tonight without a problem, have some fun. I can figure out everything else later.”

"Okay, whatever. My friends are a bunch of oblivious morons." He mumbles the last part knowing damn well I can still hear him.

"Say that again mother fucker. I'll kill you.” I playfully shove Sunwoo and he pretends to be hurt.

“Yo chill!” The both of us laugh out loud and then there is the slamming of shot glasses by the two of us. I turn to see it was Hyunjae, he looks at me with a pout but doesn’t say anything.

“There is a drinking rule. Every time someone joins the party we gotta take a shot,” Jacob explains in Hyunjae’s place.

“Oh, so that’s why he is already smashed.” There was still a deal more empty seats left… is Hyunjae going to survive tonight? Everyone pours themselves a drink, the ones that got here were first looking a little sick while the rest of us were fine, we all down the drinks. The night continues with good vibes, till the last guest arrives with a plus one. Both are unfamiliar faces to me.

“Sorry I’m late, Hyunjae. Also thanks for letting me bring my sister, she really wanted to meet my friends.” The man and his sister wish Hyunjae a happy birthday and take the only seats left available which just so happened to be next to the birthday man himself. With the arrival of two new guests, everyone takes the mandatory shot. I could feel a little more than a buzz, but overall still fine.

The conversation was flowing as normal as everyone was having a good time. A few more drinks in when everyone was a little drunker, open, and comfortable things got a little more handsy. Whatever that’s what people do when they’re drunk, but I couldn’t notice just how handsy that new girl was getting with Hyunjae.

“Good lord, Y/N. Are you trying to kill her with your eyes?” Snapping out of it, I look to sunwoo how was laughing his ass off.

“I might be,” getting mad at myself for the silly words, I rub roughly at my forehead. “So stupid. I don’t have any right to be mad. He isn’t my boyfriend or anything.” The girl tries to casually grab for Hyunjae’s hand and I quickly look up groaning, “That should be me.”

“Damn, you’re down bad.”

“You’re right!” I pour myself another drink, downing it as fast as I can. “I hope I get so shwasted that I forget everything!”

“I take no responsibility for whatever happens tonight, but hell yeah!” Sunwoo takes another shot. The night continues smoothly and everything is jovial except for every time I see her take an advance toward Hyunjae. The party started to slow down and eventually, everyone came to the decision that they could handle no more, so that party came to an end after a few good hours of drinking. After everyone except Hyunjae split the bill, one by one the people started leaving the lounge.

“Jacob I require your assistance home!” Sunwoo shouts to his friend and neighbor. Jacob nods, ready to leave, getting drunk was never his favorite thing. Sunwoo gets up slinging his arm around Jacob for support, and the two boys say goodbye to their friends. “Get home safe loser and get some dick while you’re at it.”

“Fuck off!” Sunwoo laughs as he walks away with Jacob. Only me, the brother-sister pair, and Hyunjae were left. I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave while they were still here, I want to hang out more. The brother as if hearing my wish says it’s time they head home.

The two get up to leave and the girl looks visibly sad while I do a little dance in my head. I walk up to Hyunjae and he looks at me then stands up like he was waiting for me. When I hear them walk out the door I can feel a smile grow on my face. Finally, no more people.

“Ready to go back home?” I ask him.

“You’re going to walk me back? How romantic.”

“We live one apartment building away from each other, stop being dramatic.”

“But still I’m ha-” my eye dart towards the sound of the lounge room door opening and see the familiar girl closing the door behind her. I cover Hyunjae’s mouth with my hand while I use my other one, taking the back of his neck and pulling him closer to me. Our lips only separated by my hand. Surely it looked like we were kissing right now, Hyunjae’s body should cover up the fact that we aren’t. Just let your mind fill in the blanks girl.

A few seconds after I can hear the sound of the door opening and closing again and a high-pitched, “I’m sorry.” from the girl. I’m sorry too… actually no I’m not. I pull away from Hyunjae and he looks stunned.

“Did we just kiss?”

“No, we didn’t. You kiss my hand.”

“Oh.” My eyes were certainly deceiving me cause it looked like he was a little disappointed by my answer.

“Well, let go.” He hums in response and we walk out of the establishment. Suddenly he wraps his arm around me. This isn’t much of a surprise since he was a clingy drunk. The walk was quiet, which was unusual for Hyunjae, maybe he is tired

“Where is my present?”

“You realize that your present was the party bill, right? Do you know just how much you drank compared to everyone else? That shit wasn’t cheap.”

“Hehe, yeah that’s why I drank so much. You know as a broke college student free drinks taste a lot better than anything you pay for!”

“As a broke college student, you would know after that I wouldn’t be able to afford a normal present, so don’t complain.”

“Who said you had to buy the present? Even something small, as long as it’s from you.”

“Why are you like this?” This is really the man I’ve come to like. “Fine, I will do any one thing for you.” He is quiet for a while.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

“Okay, fine two!” he is silent again.

“Really anything?”

“Anything within reason. If you have a body hidden in your closet right now, I would go help you bury it.”

“Then… can I be your boyfriend for a day. If not then just for the rest of the day or just an hour...” I’m so dumbfounded by his words that I stop walking.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” He pulls away from me.

“Is that a no then?”

“I… Hyunjae, do you… like me?” He nods. “As a friend?”

“Yes, but more than that. I want to hold you all the time, kiss, and more.” He brings his hand up to his face trying to hide his embarrassment. It did nothing to hide how red his ears became.

“I like you too.” Hyunjae perked up at my words. Now I was feeling embarrassed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll accept your request.” He hugs me again as he did back at the party.

“Then my other request, can we go back to my place?”

“Are we going to do the “and more” stuff you were talking about?” He thinks for a moment and then goes red in the face.

“No! It’s too soon and I’m way too shit-faced right now anyway. I just want to hold you.”

“Good answer.”

***

In the apartment I was oh so familiar with, I lay in Hyunjae’s bed with his arms wrapped around me. My heart was pounding at first but I soon calmed, getting used to the new situation. The lights were off and we were ready to sleep. It was peaceful, but I had this one lingering question and worry in my head.

“Hyunjae?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you remember this in the morning?”

“Of course why would I forget?”

“Because you forgot that we kissed already.” Shocked by my words he shot up in his spot.

“We what?!”

“It was like a month ago. It’s whatever since you don’t remember.”

“...I’m sorry… was I good?”

“Shut up.” I pinch his side and he yelps.

“Okay jeez, I’m just joking. But is that when you started to like me?”

“Not exactly, but it did all develop from then. Why?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time and have been trying for almost a year to get you to notice me in that way. I didn’t expect you to say you liked me back, so I wanted to know when it changed. Ah, I’m glad I never gave up.” He laid back down, hugging me close again.

“Alright don’t kill me now,” he loosens his grip on me in response.

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won’t forget this time.”

“Hmm, I think you’re fresh out of requests.” He pouts, which is just the look I wanted to see from him.

“I’m messing with you, but just a little bit. If you really remember when you wake up them I’ll let you kiss me more, as my real boyfriend.”

“I’m going to remember and then I’m going to kiss you so much you’ll get sick of my affection!”

“Uh-huh, let’s just see if you can keep your word.” We both lean into each other and kiss, soft and passionate.

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altsvu · 3 years

Text

left in the dark

pairing: jj x kate callahan x bau!fem!reader, aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you find out you’re pregnant with Hotch’s baby (in the most unexpected way) and you go to JJ and Kate about it since they’re also pregnant, but their only advice is to tell Hotch about it.

tw: pregnancy, fluff, mentions of blood/injury, breeding kink??

a/n: at first this was super hard for me to write, mostly because this is different than what i’m used to, but i think it turned out okay! enjoy my lovelies!!

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“JJ! When were you gonna tell me?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to wait till things played out.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m super happy for you regardless.”

“Thank you.” JJ smiled, pulling you into a hug. “So, how are things going with you and Hotch?”

You bit your lip. Hotch was the sweetest to you. He took you to romantic dates on off days and you always checked up on each via text messages and FaceTime when one of you were away.

Not to mention that your sex life was immaculate.

“Things are going pretty well, to be honest. We’re actually going to rent out the AMC movie theater in Arlington this weekend and watch our favorite throwback movies.”

“Oh, that sounds super romantic, I’m actually super glad that you two finally decided to get together after he was pining for you for years.”

You snorted. “We were both pining for each other. For a very very long time.”

“Yeah, the team had their suspicions.” JJ agreed. “You ready to head to the jet?”

You nodded and followed JJ out to the tarmac.

✯✯✯✯

You and Hotch had to go check out the crime scene, and it was a gruesome one. A family of 5 were bludgeoned in their home late at night, and the wife... well she had multiple knife cuts on her abdomen.

Out of nowhere, you felt sick to your stomach. This was unusual, especially for you since you got used to seeing many different types of crime scenes. You tried your hardest to breathe calmly but you felt yourself about to throw up.

“... he hurts them before finally killing them. Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just probably ate something bad-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence when you found yourself running outside and throwing up. You wiped your mouth and took deep breaths, trying to process what just happened.

“Sweetheart?” Hotch whispered. You turned around and he held you by your arms. “What’s going on? This is very unlike you.”

“I- I don’t know what’s going on.” you replied. “This never happens.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Do you want me to take you back to the field office?” He murmured into your hair.

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”

You caught Hotch still staring you down with a concerned look on his face.

“Damn it Aaron. Don’t worry about me. I don’t want to be the reason we don’t find this unsub in a timely manner.”

“Okay, you’re right. But can you please let me know if you don’t feel well?”

“Yes sir.” You smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek and walking back to the crime scene.

✯✯✯✯

When you got back to the field office, Hotch had to talk to the field agent on the case in his office, and you had to go to the conference room to look over some case files.

Hunger then struck over you, so you headed to the vending machine you noticed earlier to find a snack to hold you over until lunch. The options that were there weren’t appealing to you, so it looked like you weren’t gonna be eating for about a few more hours. To your luck, Kate and JJ were in the conference room when you got back.

“Girls, I swear I’m gonna die if I don’t have anything in my system.”

“You want some saltines? It’s all I have.” JJ asked.

“Oh yes, please.” You nodded. JJ handed you a fresh pack.

You were so indulged in them that you almost finished the pack. JJ and Kate caught on

extremely fast.

“Are you pregnant too?” Spencer asked, walking in.

“What? What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

Kate sat next to you. “Well, for starters, you’re eating saltines.”

“Because I didn’t want anything at the vending machine.”

“There’s a pattern here. Kate ate saltines, I caught JJ eating saltines, and now you’re eating them.”

You sighed, putting the rest of the pack down. “Look, pretty boy, I think I would know if I were pregnant.”

“If you say so,” Reid answered with a smile on his face.

The rest of the team came in, and all thoughts of you being pregnant dissipated.

✯✯✯✯

Over the next few days, you had some of the same symptoms and you started to wonder if you were actually pregnant. You wanted to buy a test but it would be hard to do so when your job came first.

Soon enough, the case was closed and you were heading back home. Everyone on the jet was asleep except you and Hotch.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How you feeling?”

“Like eating a 5 course meal and throwing it back up.” you moaned, curling up closer to him for comfort.

“I’ll take you home and cook you a nice meal, okay?”

You nodded, mumbling “I love you” and he kissed your lips in response.

Finally getting home, Hotch did as he promised and you spent the night cuddling and comforting each other.

The next morning you felt yourself throwing up again so you decided it was time to get a pregnancy test. Hotch had already left to go back to Quantico to do some paperwork but the rest of the team was off. You dragged yourself to a nearby store to get a test and took it immediately.

Two lines.

How would Hotch react?

He always talked about having kids, in fact he almost got turned on at the thought of you with a baby bump. But the only thing was that he wanted things to be planned out.

You figured he was pretty busy at the moment so you called JJ and Kate and asked to come over to one of their homes. Ultimately, JJ invited you and Kate over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kate asked when you arrived.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered. Both of the women hugged you and congratulated you. They then sat you down at JJ’s dining room table.

“Does Hotch know?”

You bit your lip. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t really know yet. I don’t really know what to do.”

“Well I think the best thing to do is tell him. There’s no way that he would get mad. He loves you too much.” JJ suggested.

You nodded in agreement.

“Also, he’s gonna find out soon enough, so it would be better to just let him know so he expects it,” Kate added.

“You ladies are so right. I’ll let you know how things go!”

✯✯✯✯

When you got back home, Hotch was at the couch watching a show, but it looked more like he was about to fall asleep.

“Hi baby,” you murmured against his skin after ridding yourself of your outerwear and shoes.

“Y/N...” he whispered. He sat up and held you by your waist. “I missed you when I came in.”

“Yeah, I just went over JJ’s for a bit.”

Hotch nodded. There was a bit of silence between you two.

“You look like there’s something bothering you.” he then said.

You shut your eyes, trying to think of the right way to tell him. “Aaron, I’m pregnant.” you said so very quietly.

His eyes widened in excitement. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, I’m ecstatic! This is amazing!”

You smiled and laughed in joy with him as one of his hands sneaked under your shirt and rubbed your belly. He was now sitting upright with you on his lap.

“God, I don’t think you know how long I’ve thought about this.” Hotch hummed, kissing your bare skin. “All those times filling you up with my seed in the bedroom paid off big time. I can’t wait to see your belly grow and grow.”

You leaned down and kissed his lips. “Mmm, I can’t wait either.”

✯✯✯✯

It was just a matter of time before the rest of the team found out. You did not hear the end of it from Spencer when he figured that he was right the whole time.

Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time serenading and whispering sweet nothings about how you looked so beautiful with your ever growing baby bump to you every day after work, even sometimes during work too. He’d always say that he was just super excited that you were pregnant with his baby every time you asked.

Your pregnancy was so special to the team that Kate and JJ threw a surprise baby shower, in which everyone found out you and Hotch were having a little girl.

In a few short months, your due date was inching closer and closer, and Hotch was there by your side through everything, from when your water broke in the briefing room to when you were being rushed to a hospital room to have the baby delivered.

And finally.

You welcomed a baby girl into the world.

“She’s so beautiful. Just like you.” Hotch smiled and kissed your lips after you were able to hold your baby again.

You nodded in agreement, tears escaping your eyes. You thought about what your life was going to be like now, since you had a precious little one to take care of.

During your maternity leave, each member of the team came to visit you at home, some bearing small gifts for your baby.

“Hey,” Hotch came up to you one night after putting your baby to bed. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed the skin behind it. “Can I tell you something?”

“Mhmm, anything.”

“I’m really glad that we have a baby to take care of. I’ve wanted this for such a long time, and having it with you just makes it even better.”

You smiled in response. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I love you so much, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @virgo-gf @mstrinnyb @mrshadeelgibson @ssahotchswifemain @anxiousblanketqueen @hotchsbabygirl @willowrose99 @ssa-sarahsunshine @deiondraaa

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chiliiscereal · 3 years

Text

chosen last: part three

The people asked and so they shall receive

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/650808822043115520/chosen-last

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/651201066386554880/chosen-last-part-two

Summary: a boy takes notice of reader for the first time and Donnie is worried that he’s bad news. Little do both of them know, he’s right

Warning: mentions of attempted rape

——-

You felt so much better about yourself when your birthday was over. It was honestly one of the best you’d ever had. Better than the ones your friends planned anyway. You still went, but it was nothing like the party that the turtles threw. You didn’t think it could get any better.

Until, that is, something happened that almost made you change your mind.

You friend put a picture of you and her, together, up on Snapchat.

And... for the first time in your life... a guy took notice of you.

It wasn’t much. It was just “who’s that? Low key cute. Whats their snap?”

That happened to your friends.

Never to you.

Even more surprising, your friend gave him your snap.

Eric.

Eric was his name.

And he also went to your school!

You were incredibly nervous about this. Every single time a boy took interest in you it never seemed to be what your thought it was.

Last time a boy took interest in you it was ACTUALLY so they could get with your friend. That, my friends, was two years ago. Your friends blasted through boys like there was no tomorrow. But you? You’d never had someone interested in you like that.

Until now.

You talked to him and... honestly... you felt like there was something there.

He asked a lot about you and just seemed like the one, you know? You both shared the same interest in shows! You both enjoyed the same music!

Whenever he responded to you, you just couldn’t help but feel elated.

You would fall back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, feeling like this was a scene from a movie.

He didn’t wait for twenty minutes to respond to you.

He acknowledged every single thing you said.

And when he met up with you after school...

Wow.

Just wow.

He was incredibly handsome and polite.

He even held doors open for you!

You found yourself meeting up with him again and again.

It made you feel so... important.

Unfortunately, the turtles didn’t feel the same way.

————

“Who ya talkin’ to?” Leo leaned closer to look over your shoulder from his spot beside you on the couch.

It was movie night with the boys and April.

You brought you phone to your chest to obscure his view. “Hey hey hey back off!” You playfully shoved him away. “Just a friend.”

Mikey gave you a shit eating grin when he noticed the smile slipping onto your face. “Just a friend huh?” He pulled himself off the floor and reached for your phone. “Let me see let me see!”

You held it away from him to. “Woah this is my phone! Get away!”

A metal claw snatched it from your hand, retracting back to Donnie.

“And is this ‘friend’ a boy or a girl?” He opened your phone. “Ugh, what’s your password?”

You leapt off the couch and tried to grab your device back. “Does it matter?”

Donnie tapped away at the buttons, using his metal claws from his battle shell to keep you away. “No, it doesn’t matter unless it’s a BOY.” You phone buzzed slightly as it opened to your home screen. “Aha, I am in!”

Mikey and Leo both crawled over to their soft shelled brother to observe from behind him.

“Donnie, give it back.” You ordered, looking to April for help. She just shrugged and continued watching with a smirk. “Guys, come on! It’s not a big deal!”

Raph pulled himself off the floor and placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, jokes over; give the phone back.”

Donnie groaned. “Come on! I’m so close to figuring out who y/n’s talking to!”

Raph gave him a stern look. “Now. It’s private and obviously Y/n doesn’t want you looking through it.”

Donnie, Mikey, and Leo all gave him giant puppy eyes.

Raph simply held out his hand.

Donnie sighed. “Fine. Here.”

You sighed as well but in relief.

Raph took it from him, glancing down at your phone. To your dismay, it was open up to messages. “Eric Sherrin?” He asked in confusion.

“AHA!” Donnie shouted in triumph. “A name is all I need!” He began typing in the device on his wrist.

“Raph!” You accused angrily.

Ugh what were you gonna do now??

You’d never hear the end of this.

“Hey! Raph’s on your side! I didn’t know he could find out with just a name!” He held up his hands in defense.

“Eric?” April asked as she swiped through her phone. “Does he go to our school?”

You glared at Donnie before you decided whether or not to share that.

He shrugged. “Hey, I already have his social media up and every piece of information I could find. Whether or not you say will change nothing.”

“Fine.” You growled. “Yes, he goes to our school. He’s a mutual friend with my other friends.”

April raised a brow. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well it doesn’t.”

April was dead set on despising your friends. You knew she had good reason but you didn’t need it brought up now.

Leo took the computer that Donnie had sent all the information to, scrolling through Eric’s social media. “Wow, there are a lot of pictures of him holding fish.” He snorted. “Does he think that’s gonna impress people or something?”

“I’ve never understood the appeal.” Donnie shook his head. “So what? You killed an animal good for you.”

“I think it’s about killing a BIG animal.” Leo squinted at the screen. “There’s also lots of pictures of him with other girls.”

“Guys can you just stop?” You placed your hands on your hips. “It’s sweet that you’re trying to make sure he’s not some idiot but you’re invading his privacy-!”

“Woah, look what I found in his records from the school.” Donnie waved his brothers closer.

Even Raph and April did so.

“He harassed at girl at school?” Mikey repeated as he read the screen. “Really?”

“Yeah no this guy’s bad news.” Donnie shook his head in disappointment. “Y/n, give me your phone. I’ll block him for you.” He even reached his hand out expectantly.

You held your phone closer. “No, that’s just a rumor that spread at school.”

The boys stopped what they were doing.

“You knew?” Leo narrowed his eyes. “And you’re still interested?”

“He told me that the teachers didn’t believe him.” You responded as you crossed your arms. “Some girl made it up cause she didn’t like him.”

“You can’t take that risk.” Raph crossed his arms.

“Raph, I thought you were in my side!” You protested.

“That was before Raph found out that the guy harassed someone.” He defended. “Come on, you know this can’t end good.”

Your stomach burned with anger.

Anger that they felt they could order you around like that.

That they wouldn’t even let you figure it out yourself.

That this might end just like every other romantic interest would.

“Why won’t you just let me handle this myself?” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and flopped back down in the couch.

Mikey crawled into the spot next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re one of our best friends! We don’t want anything to happen to you!” He gave you wide innocent eyes as if that would erase your anger.

Well... it did.

Curse him and his adorable eyes.

You rolled your eyes and hugged him back. “I know. I just want to figure this out myself.” You gave Donnie a hard glare as your rested your chin on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Fine.” He closed all the tabs on his computer grudgingly. “But I know this is just gonna end in heartbreak.”

“What a vote of confidence.” Leo snorted and plopped down in the spot next to you.

He smirked when you ignored him, still hugging Mikey.

“Hey, come on, you know you can’t stay mad at this face.” He leaned against you dramatically. “I’m the face man! You can’t resist me!” He pulled you away from Mikey and draped his arm over your shoulder. “You know you love me.”

You turned your head away from him, more playful now than spiteful.

“Come onnnnn...” he smirked. “You love meeee...”

You shoved him off the couch with a laugh. “I’m still thinking that over.”

Raph quickly took Leo’s seat as his younger brother rubbed the spot he’d landed on.

“No hard feelings?” Raph rested his arm on the couch behind you as he started the movie back up.

“Fine. No hard feelings.”

Leo moved so he was sitting on the floor and leaning against your legs.

You couldn’t stay mad at them. Well, except Donnie. You could very well stay mad at Donnie.

And it seemed that Donnie could stay mad at you as well. He left the room with all his tech, grumbling something under his breath.

“I already know how this is gonna end.” He grumbled.

“Love you to, Donnie.” You muttered, sinking into the couch.

Whatever.

He’d get over it soon enough.

————

Donnie didn’t get over it.

Whenever you came over to hang out he brought it up again casually. Well, as casually as Donnie could be, which wasn’t very casual at all.

“Ugh, this game sucks!” Mikey shouted at the tv once.

“Not as much as Eric What’s-his-face’s record.” He’d commented, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

Or even:

“Ugh you can’t trust those pop up ads.” Raph told Leo when his phone had downloaded a virus after he clicked an ad.

“Just like how you can’t trust Eric.” He’d ran into the room to spit that out.

If Raph ever asked how things were going with Eric, Donnie either magically appeared next to him with a hopeful look or disappear with a groan.

You and Eric weren’t even together.

But... you hoped you would be soon.

He invited you to a party that Friday! And he’d specified that he’s invited you as his date.

Your friends were excited, surprisingly. They wanted to help you find an outfit and everything.

Finally, you felt like things were going right.

Why couldn’t Donnie just be happy for you?

——-

“Why won’t you come?” You begged April as she flopped down onto your bed.

“You’ve got Eric and all of your other friends.” She waved you off. “Besides, you know I hate parties.” She sat up slightly. “And Eric gives me the heebie jeebies.”

You rolled your eyes and held out a dress. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I won’t make you.”

April touched the fabric of the dress with a frown. “Is this what your friends picked out for you? I thought you didn’t like dresses?”

You shrugged. “They said Eric would like it and that it looked good on me.”

April fully sat up now. “But you’re gonna be so uncomfortable in that!”

“I mean, it’s supposed to be pretty, not comfy, right?” You shrugged, slipping it on over your head. “Does it look good?” You gave her a small twirl.

“Of course it’s pretty... but its a little... much.” She shook her head. “Does Eric really deserve to see you in that?”

The last bit was playful but still...

“I think so.” You say down beside her. “I’m just so incredibly nervous and I don’t know if this is a bad idea.”

You felt exposed.

But, you also trusted that the people at the party could be trusted with that.

April draped her arm over your shoulder. “Well you look stunning.”

You smiled back at her. “Thanks.”

“Alright, girl, your party’s in twenty minutes. Ready to head out?” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the door.

You stood up and smoothed out the dress. “Ready.”

———

You stood in front of the house nervously. You could hear the music and see the lights and people dancing. You just didn’t know if you actually were ready.

“You look hot, y/n.” Your friend told you, glancing at one of your other friends. “He’s gonna love it.”

You didn’t really love it, but if he liked it then so would you.

“Hope so.” You muttered, checking your phone.

Donnie sent you a simple text:

Don’t trust Eric and keep pepper spray on hand.

Wow, such confidence.

You ignored it and stuffed your phone in the dress pocket. You didn’t need that. You needed all the confidence you could muster.

“Wow.” A voice said from behind you, causing you to jump.

There was Eric, dressed nicely and with a charming smile on his face.

“You look hot.” He grinned.

Your stomach fluttered. “Oh, thank... thank you!”! You smoothed it out nervously.

You didn’t know if your stomach felt this way out of nerves or out of feelings for him. You really couldn’t tell.

He placed his hand over your hip and pulled you to his side. “Well Let’s head on in! Can’t wait to show you off.”

Your stomach jumped. “Well, I just wanted to wait a little,” he opened the door and dragged you in, “oh okay!”

Your friends and Eric were at your side the whole time.

You still felt as if you were on display while you and your group were dancing.

You still felt like the dress was too short when you and Eric sat down on the couch.

You felt like he was staring at you when you noticed the couples in the room kissing and making out.

“You wanna head upstairs?” He asked as he took your hand.

Your heart jumped. “No, no I’m good. Really.”

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the stairs. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head. “No I don’t want to go upstairs.”

He looked disappointed but you stayed confident with your choice. You didn’t want that and you weren’t ready.

He recovered quickly and dropped your hand. “Alright! I’m just gonna go talk to a friend real quick, I’ll be back.”

You sighed in relief when you realized he wouldn’t push it on you.

He got up and you pulled out your phone, trying to decide if you wanted to text Donnie back.

You settled on typing:

Yeah yeah whatever.

You saw he read it but he didn’t respond.

What was with him?

Why couldn’t he just be happy?

You glanced up, noticing Eric talking to one of your friends. You noticed him glance back at you and then back at your friend. She handed him something and he left to go to the kitchen.

You went back to your phone, waiting to see if Donnie would respond.

You just wanted your friend back.

Why couldn’t he just... ugh no you had to stop asking that. He was being too judgemental and untrusting.

There was nothing untrustworthy about Eric.

He was just being crazy...

You glanced up again, noticing Eric at the drink table. Whatever it was your friend had given him, he was slipping it in his drink.

You looked closer.

It was some sort of... powder?

When he turned back around you immediately acted like you hadn’t been watching.

He made his way to you and sat down, a drink in each hand. “I thought you looked a little thirsty, so I got you a soda!”

He handed you the red cup enthusiastically.

No, he couldn’t be trying to spike your drink. He wouldn’t do that.

But he was looking at you so expectantly.

“Oh, thank you!” You swirled the soda suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to corn syrup so... sorry.” You set the drink back down.

Again, he looked disappointed. Maybe even a little mad.

“Hey, We’re gonna go upstairs and play a game!” Your friend shouted from across the room. “Wanna join?”

“What game?” You asked, feeling incredibly nervous.

“Truth or dare!” She giggled. “You’ll love it!”

Eric jumped on that idea expectantly. “Come on lets go!”

“I don’t really...”

He pulled you up before you could even finish.

You wanted to stay where people could see you!

But... you WERE gonna be with your friends...

“Alright, Fine.” You settled. “I’ll go.”

“Awesome!”

You and your group headed up and down the hallway.

Your friend opened the door for you and let you in first. Eric followed closely behind you.

It was a bedroom. A very dark bedroom.

“Hey, We’re gonna head down to the bathroom and freshen up first.” One of your friends smirked. “You two have fun!”

“Wait, no-!”

They were already gone and the door was shut.

Eric had gotten you upstairs.

Alone.

————-

Donnie sighed, trying hard to focus on his work. “Why can’t y/n just listen to me.” He groaned to himself. “I’m just trying to help! How does that make me the bad guy?”

He continued wiring his latest invention, frustrated at how he kept messing up.

“It’s not gonna end well.” He growled. “It’s gonna end in heartbreak and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces.”

“If y/n even trusts you with that.” Leo added from behind him, causing him to jump.

“Nardo, how long have you been standing there?” He glowered at him. “I’m busy.”

Leo held up his hands in surrender. “A while. Anyway, you’re just pushing y/n away.”

“But y/n isn’t listening to me!” He protested, dropping his tool. “I’m right!”

“Maybe, but you’re also being a jerk.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’ll get her heart broken but you could at least be there for support.”

“Oh no no no I’m not supporting that relationship.” He shook his head vigorously and picked up his screwdriver.

“Not the relationship, egghead.” Leo rolled his eyes. “Our friend?”

“Oh.” Donnie tapped the table in thought. “Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have left y/n on read...”

“...And maybe go apologize?” Leo prompted.

“No she’s at a party.” He glanced around his phone, checking your location again. “Actually...” he leaned closer to stare at his screen, “y/n’s not at the party any more.”

“Perfect!” Leo clasped his hands together. “Go apologize!”

“It can’t wait?”

“Go!”

———-

You sat on the rooftop, clutching your jacket to your body and watching the city.

How could you have been so stupid.

How could have let something like that happen.

It was incredibly cold on the rooftop but you didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to go home. You CERTAINLY didn’t want to go to the lair either.

You just wanted to watch the city and pretend everything was okay again.

Why did you have to get your hopes up.

No one ever took interest in you like that unless they wanted something from you.

“Scoff, there you are!” Said the last person you wanted to talk to. “I thought you were in the building and spent about an hour searching for you.”

“Tracking device?” You asked, not even looking at him.

“Yep.” Donnie confirmed. “Now, might I inquire why you’re out here?” He glanced at his watch. “And not at your party?”

You stayed quiet.

“Something happen with Eric?”

You gave him nothing.

“I knew it!” He jumped up and cheered. “I was right! I was RIGHT! Ha!”

His every word made you feel colder and more embarrassed.

“I knew from the start! I knew he was untrustworthy!” He continued. “Eat that!”

Finally, he calmed down enough to sit next to you.

“Now, tell me, what did he do?” He leaned close expectantly. “Did he cheat? Did he kiss a girl? Did he try to get with one of your friends? Did he-?”

“He tried to rape me.” You spat out, bringing your knees to your chest.

Well I’m out of room XD

Part four up soon!

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt x reader

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angelguk · 4 years

Text

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed. He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hey kristy #shoutout 2 ella kristy and luna 4 beta reading mwah

3K notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 4 years

Text

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground.

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up. “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

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emeraldiis · 3 years

Text

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it.

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment.

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki.

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life.

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster.

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu #marvel #angst #writing

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bakugou-tm · 4 years

Text

Master Knows Best (18+)

Bakugou x Maid Cafe Reader

plot: You’ve gone almost a full year working at a maid cafe with none of your friends finding out, which is exactly how you liked it; but thanks to a certain friend your beloved hot headed boyfriend found out your secret and planned on teasing you the whole time. In a stubborn attempt to get back at him, you realized exactly what would happen if you disobeyed your master

warnings: suggestive NSFW, swearing, a shit ton of teasing

wc: 5200+

mood song: worst behavior

a/n: I was supposed to post this on valentine’s day but it’s better late than never right? I perhaps may make a part two depending on how this does but I’m also a s s at NSFW so we’ll see. For now just enjoy (especially my fellow brats out there)

You liked things to be simple. You were a simple girl, with a simple life.

Sure you had your secrets, but thanks to your overall simplicity, nobody even bothered to uncover them.

That’s just the way you liked it too. Each different part of your life was separated as they should, for if they intertwined your life would becoming a living nightmare.

You never dreamed that living nightmare would become a reality. Who knew all it would take to crumble the reputation you built up for so long...

was a simple text.

Sweat trickled down the ash blond’s toned arms, his ragged breath becoming more steady as he slumped down against the wall while his friend took a few rounds at the punching bag.

The sound of his phone buzzing beside him didn’t drag him out of his exhausted mindset quite yet, but when his crimson eyes glanced across the words on the screen he felt everything come to a halt.

electric dunce: remember that day time job (l/n) said she had during the weekends? i think i found it bro..

electric dunce: 1 attachment

Bakugou’s red haired training buddy noticed the change in spirit with his blond friend, noticing how his heavy breathing suddenly stopped.

Wiping his gloved hand across his forehead, Kirishima glanced down to his friend only to see Bakugou’s eyebrows knit in a deep focus.

“You uh... You okay bro?” Kirishima questioned with a raised brow, trying to control his own ragged breaths after he attacked the swaying back before him.

Before he could question his friend once more, Bakugou let out a breathy chuckle, one filled with mischief and even excitement if Kirishima listened well enough.

“Training is cut short today shitty hair.”

“Come onnnn (L/n), how could you tell us you have a job then not tell us what it is?” The pink haired girl whined as she slid her upper half onto your lap and sighed dramatically.

Giggling slightly your eyes flicked to Kaminari across from you as his lips doubled over into a pout, “The whole point of having a job is so your friends can come crash it!”

“And to make some money dumbo.” You sneered, flicking his forehead gently while glancing down to Mina’s attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Besides, I didn’t want to tell you guys. You forced me to tell you where I went after school or you said you would doxx me.”

Your friends let out a sigh of defeat as Kirishima glanced to your boyfriend beside you, “C’mon Baku-bro not even you know where she works?”

Smirking slightly you placed a gentle palm on your boyfriends cheek and winked to him tauntingly,

“Not even Katsuki~”

Bakugou simply clicked his tongue and smacked your hand away, “I don’t know because I don’t fucking care.”

Oh but he did care. It ate away at him everyday that you refused to reveal where you worked. You claimed it would be “embarrassing” for him to see you working and wearing a uniform but he failed to understand why it would be. He brutally antagonized you all the time and you never bat an eye, why would he care if he saw you wearing a ‘Mini-Mart’ uniform?

You simply hummed at your boyfriend’s denial and leaned against his side.

“Say whatever you need to make you feel better love,” You purred, grinning at his scowl before you looked to your group of friends,

“Because you will never find out where I work, ever.”

Bakugou felt like he was in a state of euphoria as he stood before the quaint wooden doors, decorated with all sorts of pastel ribbons and paint.

It was almost as if he was entering the doors of heaven, the ultimate satisfaction of knowing he was about to beat you and your stupid threat.

And better yet, of all the places to find out you worked, it was here?

Oh he was going to enjoy this, even beyond getting revenge.

“Never find out my ass.” Bakugou sneered with a smirk, letting the soft breeze flow through his spiky locks as he tugged open the door into the unknown.

Meanwhile you were attempting to gracefully, yet quickly, get your uniform back on since your break ended in about thirty seconds. You hated how good you had gotten at putting on this stupid uniform, soon enough it would be second nature to you.

Working at a Maid Cafe wasn’t exactly where you planned to end up. When you stumbled onto the small podium in kindergarten to announce your future career, you surely didn’t say “I want to be a server at a Maid Cafe!”

And yet here you were pulling up the thigh high socks to your frilly, bow covered maid dress.

Admittedly when you were searching for jobs, you were surprised to find no luck. Any job that paid well required university years, and any left over job wouldn’t pay enough for your time to walk there.

It wasn’t until your aunt came to you in your troubles and recommended the job of your nightmares.

“My sweetheart why don’t you just work at my niece’s Maid Cafe? You’ll get to work with very sweet young girls about your age, and they pay very well since they have a very diverse clientele!”

Immediately you threw away the idea before you could even process it, the thought of having to serve gross old men and pretend to be excited while doing it didn’t sound appealing, let alone possible.

With that said, that didn’t mean your aunt was going to give up just yet. Without telling you she scheduled an interview for you, telling you if you didn’t show up it would make your family look bad.

Feeling the inevitable guilt throughout the day, you submitted into your aunt’s wishes and at least showed up to the interview.

Who knew? Maybe they would just let you be a janitor or something.

Sure enough they wanted you as a maid, but before you could even deny they offered double what any job had offered you, even the high paying ones.

“We know the job isn’t ideal, which is why we pay so much. A young girl like you would be just perfect here!”

Push came to shove, and somehow you ended up working at the cafe for a year and a half now.

You couldn’t lie, dressing up all cute and getting to hang out with a bunch of sweet girls was pretty fun. It beats mopping an empty grocery store with creepy co-workers.

With that said, the dread of having to deal with pervy customers and the existential fear of one of your friends walking through the door almost outweighed the pros of the job.

Luckily you had been able to escape doom for this long, so what are the odds that would change anytime soon?

The sound of the bell charming brought you back to your senses, quickly tying the silk bow behind your back you stumbled out into the break room to see your boss awaiting.

“Phew I thought you almost ditched us (L/n).” Your boss said with a wink.

Rolling your eyes you began walking backwards towards the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

“Have I ever failed you Miss Manager?” You purred with a grin.

Satisfied with her laugh you danced through the double doors, putting on your cute act once again. Only two hours left and you could go home and pig out on what was left in your pantry.

If that’s truly all it took, you didn’t mind turning on your “anime girl” side for a few hours.

Smiling at all the guests you made sure to check on everyone’s table before making your way towards the greeting podium. The doorbell went off so that meant some sort of customer was waiting to be sat.

Giving one last wink to a customer you whipped your head towards the front doors and gave a small bow before looking up.

“Welcome back to Maid Cafe master, would you like me to show you to your se..AHHHH!”

The moment your eyes met the sturdy figure before you, all senses jumped out the window as you screeched and jumped backwards defensively.

How.. How could this happen? This couldn’t be happening. All your intricate planning and anxious working to make sure no one you knew would ever catch you on the job.

And out of all the people in the world... it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Your ever so taunting boyfriend.

Sure enough Bakugou had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes glowing with excitement for probably more reasons than you could count.

“Well well well, don’t you look familiar.”

At this point words weren’t even an option in your mind, you couldn’t tell if the cold spike of fear shooting up your spine was worse or the overwhelming heat that flared along your face.

Your little outburst didn’t go unnoticed by the guests and maids, all eyes moved to the two of you as you stumbled over your own words.

“Y..You- I.. but I.. and you! I can’t...”

“(L/n) is something the matter?”

The sound of your boss’ sweet voice from behind you caused you to shriek again as you now jumped to face her.

Feeling your face grow even warmer you avoided eye-contact with her, trying to use what was left of your slowly deflating brain to come up with an excuse to fix this entire mess.

“Yeah princess, is something the matter?”

Between the chilling tone and the pet name you physically shuddered, your head slowly peaking back to the problem at hand.

Bakugou couldn’t help but notice your reaction, sneering cockily as he looked down on you with pride.

“Zip it Bakugou-”

“Ah ah..” Bakugou started before you could even finish your threat, “I believe you are supposed to refer to me as master.”

If your brain wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. Your internal mix of equally enjoying this and hating this had officially clashed and broken any sense at this point. All you could feel beyond anger at this point was complete and utter embarrassment.

“(L/n) you’re not having any trouble greeting our guest, are you?” Your boss questioned sternly.

You’ve honestly never heard her get so serious with you, given this was far from her angry side, but you hated disappointing your superiors.

Glancing around you still noticed some eyes on you along with your suspicious boss’. At this point there was no escaping the situation, and like hell were you going to give this bastard the satisfaction of your embarrassment.

“N..No ma’am, no trouble at all!” You said back in your sweet work voice, offering the best smile you could muster before twitching back to your smug boyfriend.

“Let me uh... let me show you to your table...” You stuttered out, grabbing a single menu before looking up at your expectant boyfriend’s expression. You knew exactly what the little shit was waiting for, and if you didn’t say it your boss would surely drag you to the back.

“Master.”

Bakugou sighed in dramatic satisfaction, clasping his hands together sarcastically and bending down to your level, “Fucking splendid.”

Gritting your teeth you glared into his crimson orbs before spinning on your heel, plastering the cute smile on your face so your boss could get off your back.

Once she seemed to notice you returned to your old state, she let out a gentle sigh and walked away to serve her tables.

At the very least you felt a bit less tense knowing she wasn’t following you like a hawk, but she was far from the problem at hand.

Quickly b-lining towards a table in the corner, you slammed the menu down and pulled out the chair, offering the most sarcastically pleasant smile you could.

Bakugou gladly took his seat, making sure to drag his hand along the small of your back on the way down. He throughly enjoyed each time you shivered from his touch, or even words.

First you decided to take his order, making sure all eyes were officially off the two of you. Once you decided the coast was clear, you quickly grabbed the collar of his tank top, as you bent down to be eye level with him.

“How did you find out about my job Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted in surprise, catching himself quickly before he smirked back to your fuming expression. Oh how adorable you were when you were mad.

Your thick eyebrows would knit together in a deep focus and your plush lips would pinch into a perfect pout that drove him crazy.

As the blond smugly glanced over your features, his eyes flicked up only to notice other eyes were facing the two of you once again, only this time they only seemed to be on you. On your backside.

The way you were bending down seemed to perfectly expose your backside to the world, and your dumbass was too oblivious with him to even realize it.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou placed a firm palm on the edge of your spine before shoving you down to your knees so the back of your dress would cover your backside once again.

The action caused a small yelp to escape your lips, you assumed he had done it to embarrass you which made you that much more mad.

“Answer. My. Question.”

Once the ash blond was satisfied with your state and he glared at any that dared to still look at you, he glanced back down to your fiery orbs with an unimpressed look.

Rolling his eyes he slapped your hand away causing you to huff before he shoved the photo Kaminari sent to him.

Glancing over the photo you eyes widened to see a photo of you through the window of the Maid Cafe assisting a customer.

Your cheeks began to glow red again as you worriedly looked up to Bakugou, “You guys actually doxxed me?!”

Bakugou raised a brow and snatched his phone back with a sigh.

“I didn’t, I can’t speak for that stupid dunce but I’ll deal with his reasoning later,” He explained before his dreadful smirk returned as he cupped the edge of your chin, “Back to the elephant in the room, how come you hid such a delicious fucking secret from your master.”

As much as you would’ve loved this behind closed doors, to be openly embarrassed in public made your head feel like it was going to explode.

“S..Stop acting all smug you idiot!” You snapped, smacking his hand from your chin and standing up straight, “I hid this from you so you wouldn’t act like an egotistical dick.”

At this Bakugou barked out a laugh, the booming sound causing you to jump a bit as he slouched back in his chair, folding his arms with that smug grin.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that my fucking ego is backed up, or have you forgotten doll?”

His piercing red eyes narrowed to your own, the sight making you blush as you jerked your head to the side and huffed.

“Can you order already idiot? I’ve got plenty of other orders to take.”

Bakugou simply smirked and picked up the menu, glancing down the options before shoving it in your arms.

“I’ll get two of the shitty rice bears,” He explained, grinning when he saw you look up with a raised brow, “I’ve got a hungry maid coming home soon waiting to please her master.”

Your confused expression turned into a flushed angry one as you snatched the menu from him and turned on your heel. You didn’t even remember what he asked for but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to hide from the customers so you could collect what dignity you had left.

The moment you brushed by the double doors you let out a sigh of relief as you rested your head against the back wall. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pinched yourself hard enough you would wake up from this horrible nightmare?

You could only imagine the things Bakugou was thinking. Does he think you’re some ditzy pushover maid girl now? Is he texting your friends telling them that you work here? Honestly Kaminari has probably already done that.

It was so nice having the upper hand on him for once, but now that he took every last bit of dignity and laughed in your face, you were doomed.

“Rough shift huh?”

Raising your brows you peaked an eye open to see one of your coworkers with a concerned expression. Standing up straight you fixed a piece of your hair and nodded.

“Yeah I guess you could say that..”

“How come you were acting so weird with that customer (L/n)-chan?” Your manager called from behind, carrying a bunch of plates as she walked beside your coworker, “Is it because he’s crazy hot?”

Folding your arms you let out a huff as you pouted your lips out,

“Try boyfriend.”

Both girls gasped in shock, your boss nearly dropping the plates in her hand as they looked two you in disbelief.

“Wow sorry for calling him hot, I never knew you had a boyfriend (L/n)! And a hunk at that~”

Letting out a slight chuckle, both your eyes fell on your coworker when she spoke up.

“You know this same thing happened to me with my boyfriend,” She spoke while tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, “I didn’t want him finding out about my job because I knew he would make fun of me, then one day he showed up and sure enough started making fun of me.”

Frowning you let out a sigh as you rubbed the side of your face exasperatedly, “My dumb boyfriend is doing that too! What did you end up doing with yours?”

Your coworker grinned as she shrugged.

“I simply fought fire with fire. Since he was making fun of me, I made him eat his words and watch me serve the other customers. He ended up getting so jealous he left!”

The advice she had given you finally brought warmth back to your numb body, you felt a grin rise to your face as you quickly wrapped your arms around your coworker.

“You are a lifesaver woman! I owe you so much for that advice.”

Your coworker simply laughed and hugged you back, happy to see you back in your normal cheerful state.

“Yeah have some fun but don’t ruin the experience for our other guests!” Your boss called out before walking out the door with the plates.

“I should probably get out there too, let me know if you need any help (L/n)-chan.” Your coworker said with a mischievous grin before dancing out the double doors.

Your mind was rushing with ideas, how could you of not thought of this before? Your explosive boyfriend could get jealous from a rock on the street, this would be the perfect pay back for you!

If he was going to come into your workplace and wreak havoc, you would do the same for his inflated ego.

Fixing up your dress you grabbed the two plates and narrowed your eyes towards the dining room.

“Bring it on Bakugou Katsuki.”

Oh did Bakugou feel pleased with himself.

Normally he hated skipping out on a workout, but this was worth it.

He couldn’t let the image of your adorable flushed expression and tense body escape his mind. Let alone that maid costume on you was divine on your plush skin.

The fact that you refused to wear a maid costume in the bedroom made it that much better, no wonder you were trying to hide this job from him.

The way the black silk hugged every curve, just tight enough to where your skin was overflowing from the material. And those thighs squeezing out of those adorable thigh highs drove him wild.

If he hadn’t made the best discovery of his life today, he would almost be mad you were strutting around in such a costume for anyone other than himself.

Deciding to wait another day to deal with that, Bakugou simply enjoyed the scenery and awaited for his girlfriend.

Just like clockwork he saw your form dance out of the backroom a bit too peppy. The thought of you “collecting” yourself in the back only made him sneer with a sadistic grin, he would simply break you all over again when you served him the food.

Just as you sauntered over to his table, the ash blond looked you up and down with a smirk, opening his mouth to say something truly condescending until your body turn away from him and towards another table.

“Here’s your panda shaped muffin and honeydew boba masters!” You spoke to the two customers at the table in front of him, “Is there anything else I can get for you my handsome masters?”

Bakugou felt his heart drop at the sound of you calling another living organism your master. Were you doing this on purpose? Is this usually how you talked to the shitty customers here?

His answer was confirmed when a small squeak escaped your lips and you bent down towards the table, your chest surely giving the two guests a show given their cherry lit cheeks as your thumb grazed across one of the customer’s cheeks.

“Silly master, you have some icing on your cheek.” You said with the most divine giggle he had ever heard. Gritting his teeth his entire world froze when you stuck the finger in your mouth and licked the white cream off clean, “No worries, I got it for you~”

The man before you looked like he was going to bust on the spot, his friend watching with his jaw dropped and eyes filled with jealousy.

Smiling sweetly you gave them one last bow, “Let me know if you need anything else masters!”

Just before you danced away from their table you glanced to Bakugou, giving him a small smirk as you looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes before sauntering away, leaving your explosive boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown.

You truly had a death wish. It was the only explanation for your actions. For almost a full hour you kept that act up, leaving the many guests within the cafe speechless and ogling over you. You knew exactly how jealous Bakugou could get, and you knew he hated admitting it.

Of course Bakugou also knew what a little tease you were. He didn’t miss the delight in your glistening eyes each time you taunted him, waiting for the repercussions of his wrath. But this...

This crossed the line of his sanity.

The ash blond tried to wait til your shift was over, he really did. As furious as he was with you, he wasn’t irresponsible enough to make you lose your job. But the moment your finger tips danced along the shoulder of a guest, any bit of restraint the male had left in his body had snapped like a twig.

The sound of him storming up from his table caused the immediate guests around him to look up, his silverware clanking against the pink trimmed plate as he made a direct line towards you.

Unfortunately for you, the scene your boyfriend caused went over your head as you continued to jot down the order from the customers before you. Focusing on your blossom shaped ordering pad you didn’t notice the horrified expressions on the customers before you as the saw an angry Bakugou storming up behind you.

“I’ll get those orders right up for you masters~” You exclaimed with a cute wink as you began to walk off until a firm hand wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

Bakugou could have loosened his bit a grip he realized when you let out a small yelp but he had already committed and like hell was he going to let you flirt with another damn customer right before his very eyes.

Your sweet words, gentle touches, suggestive actions... they weren’t meant for him and him only.

Immiedetly you recognized your boyfriend’s sharp hold and tried to tug your hand away so not to make a scene, but the ash blond simple spun your wrist around and pinned it to your back, giving him full control of wherever you walk.

With a squeak he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble over your own feet as he quickly pushed you towards the backroom.

You briefly met gaze with your boss as he shoved you by, your eyes pleading for help as they were filled with regret. Your boss opened her mouth, not sure what to even do.

“E..Excuse me sir? You can’t touch the-”

Before she could even finish her sentence Bakugou flashed a sharp glare to the woman, his crimson orbs thin from lack of patience and absolute fury.

Your boss was smart enough to know your boyfriend was truly about to go feral, for her life and your own she decided it was best to turn away and pretend she saw nothing.

You let out a small pout when you saw her attempt to serve the shocked guests, leaving you to be shoved into the backroom by a surely pent up Bakugou.

Once you reached the back you saw your coworker, the one that had given you such brilliant advice before, shoving a pastry in her mouth as she was on her break. Her eyes first fell on the dark lidded ones of your boyfriend before falling on your pleading fearful eyes.

Her mouth opened, unsure of what to say before closing.

“I’m uh.. gonna take my break outside.” She muttered softly, politely pushing the chair in and offering the best smile she could before she quickly shuffled out the back doors.

Once the room was clear Bakugou let go of your wrist, giving you a chance to stretch your arm back in it’s proper position before the sound of the back door slamming to a close caused you to shriek in surprise.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk as you jumped, as angry as he was he loved seeing you so on edge thanks to him. Returning to a serious expression he watched as you turned around, attempting to put on a serious face of your own.

“Bakugou you know I still have thirty minutes left of my shift-”

Trying to speak was hard enough as is with the thick tension in the room, but when the ash blond slammed his hands on either side of you against the wooden break table you let out a shriek and quickly sat back against the ledge attempting to gain some more space between you two.

The action made him chuckle dryly as he looked you up and down.

“You’re still going to act like a fucking brat huh? After the show you just put on?” Bakugou spoke lowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of your costume only swirling more pent up feelings within him, “Someone’s feeling spunky today?”

You bit at the corner of your lip, swallowing what left of saliva was in your dry mouth as you tried terribly to avoid eye contact.

“Hiding such a naughty job from me, and then when I catch you red handed this is the treatment I get?” Bakugou hisses with clenched fists, “You should’ve been at my fucking heel all day for keeping such a delicious lie from me and yet you taunt me like you’re the one in charge?”

His harsh words made heat rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your frilly dress, trying to find anything to look at besides his face. Surely you knew that wasn’t going to pass with him.

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you brat.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowing when he saw your lips pinch together stubbornly.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he grabbed your wrist roughly before shoving you back against the thin wall and grabbing your jaw harshly shoving it against the wall with a hard knock, forcing your eyes to meet.

The sight of your cheeks being squished together by his large palms and your wide glassy eyes forced to look into his own, he couldn’t hide his smug smirk as he felt you lightly tremor beneath him.

“Much better doll.” Bakugou cooed, voice laced with sarcasm as you both knew the next chain of events were about to get quite violent.

“Now, I was planning on patiently waiting for you to get off so we could take this conversation in private...” Bakugou spoke, eyes narrowing down to yours as he let out a sinister laugh, “Hell I even bought you a treat, I’m such a generous fucking boyfriend aren’t I?”

Your breathing was ragged as you stared up into his crimson eyes, your brain was so fogged by the situation that you hadn’t even realized what he asked until his grip on your jaw tightened.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

Blinking back to reality you nodded deserpatly, not daring to look away from his gaze as you let out a slight whimper that shot directly to his pants.

“Good.” Bakugou said with a dark smile before continuing on, “But now I cannot go along with that generous plan because you can’t go two seconds without acting like a fucking slut.”

The filthy words spewing from his lips caused your face to grow warm, the entire situation already had your silk underwear drenched, but his words alone caused you to brush your plump thighs together desperately.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by the ash blond as he roughly shoved a knee between your legs causing a whine to escape your lips when he refused to put any friction on your aching core.

“Even now you can’t help but act like a brainless bitch in heat.” Bakugou sneered with a grin, his hand on your jaw lowering to now grip on your neck gently so not to cut off any air.

“Because you’ve disobeyed me multiple times today, I’m going to have to set you straight right here in public so you know who truly has the power here.”

Your mouth opened to rebuttal as your eyes widened at his idea, but his hand only gripped tighter around your throat causing the words shove back down your throat.

“And then,” Bakugou hissed, “If you perform like a good little maid, I may give you what you want when we get home. Maybe.”

You let out a shaky breath as he narrowed his eyes down to you, trying to read what you were feeling right now.

“Now you’re going to be my good little slutty maid and serve me until I’m satisfied, you fucking got that?”

As Bakugou’s grip on your neck loosened, your posture relaxed a bit as you nodded to his question, only for the grip to return as he growled down to you.

“Try again.”

Biting your lip your thighs attempted to squeeze against his knee for any sort of friction at all as any conscious thought was clouded with ashamed lust for the man before you.

“Y..Yes master.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #maid cafe #maid cafe au #maid au #maid reader #maid cafe reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #reader is a big ole brat #this kinda segsy tho #anyways enjoy

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thewincestgospel · 3 years

Text

Wincest and J2 High School Fics

2028 AD by inlustwithsammy

It's in 2028. Sam and Dean got reincarnated and they have no idea who they were in their past lives. They live a normal life as high school students. They grew up as best friends who live close to each other. Dean is still a playboy. Sam is still a nerd. Some things never change.

a first time for everything by riyku In which Jared announces that his family is moving, and Jensen suddenly becomes very concerned with time.

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me" by gothpandaotaku

Sam Winchester, the jaded new kid at school. Dean Winchester, the school badass who rides a motorcycle to school every morning. When they collide, sparks fly- the wrong kind. It's hate at first sight. But over time they find they have a lot more in common than they thought...

All The Other Kids by AureaMediocritas Dean and Sam roll into another high school. The first weeks through five students' eyes.

Baby Steps by cherie_morte AU: Jared is nine years old when his mom marries Jensen's dad.

The Ballad of the Invisible Boy by dollylux This is a story of adolescence. This is a love letter for the slow burn, for Led Zeppelin, for the 90s. This is the first of two sets of stories about how Sam and Dean didn’t fall in love. They never had to. It was always there, this desperation between them, like a real, breathing thing. When they came together, it was inevitable. As sure as continents colliding, as the phases of the moon and the life and death of stars. This isn’t a love story, but it’s a story of love.SeriesPart 1 of Invisible Boy.

Becoming What We Pretend To Be by locknkey In a fit of pique Sam brags to his high school friends that he can get Dean as his boyfriend. Dean's never been able to say no to Sam. Pretense is a slippery-slope when you're romancing your brother and it's all too easy to for the lines between what's real and what's fake to become blurred.

Bend and Break by Winmance If Jared had to describe his life, he would say that his life is lonely. Between the bullying and his parents lack of interest, the only true joy he has is Jensen, the baseball player with who he's having sex. But everybody has a limit and Jared is about to find out his own.

Best Birthday Ever by ballsdeepinwinchesters prompted for: w[ee]cestiel + bottom!Sam For Sam’s sixteenth birthday, he only asked for one thing. He didn’t want a car, or money, or even a dog (Dean hates dogs). All Sam wanted was to get f***** by Dean and his friend, Cas.

Bitchface No.5 by bookworm1805 There's a new kid in school and Sam is being a bitch, but Dean doesn't see how the two things are related.5 stars

The Craziest Thing by thefourofswords Sam and Dean find themselves de-aged back to 18. The only solution anybody seems to have is to go back to high school.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Flagstaff by Linden John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

Go, Dean... by orphan_account Prompt: Teenage Dean joining the football team and Sammy cheering him in the stands, Dean calling him his little cheerleader and making him wear the outfit while he rides his big brother... How's that for enduring football?

“Thought you wanted to be my little cheerleader, Sammy,' Dean said, tossing the gathered supplies onto the bed and crawling back between Sam’s legs. His lips sealed themselves to Sam’s, and he kissed him breathlessly. 'Loved watching you bounce up and down out on the field, everyone watching you, wishing you were theirs.'”

Good as New by sixtysevenlmpala When an asshole at Dean and Sam's high school breaks Dean's amulet, he doesn't react well. But as always, Sam's there to make it better.

Hope You Don't Mind by compo67 Jared has no problems being an introvert in a family of extroverted women. He enjoys his alone time as a freshman in high school... that is until signs for prom start showing up. With both his sisters going, he begins to wonder if maybe his time alone is a little lonely.

I'll Give You What You Like by soulmatecest Jared is, by all means, the worst cheerleader in the world.He absolutely fucking sucks; Jensen’s not even sure how he made it to the cheer squad and why would anyone take a look to his really bad dancing moves and still think ‘oh yeah, we definitely need to get some of that for the team.’Jared is honestly a disaster at this.And yet, Jensen has done pretty much nothing apart from staring at him most of the game as Jared dances terribly in a short skirt. Because even if Jared sucks, he’s also the most beautiful omega Jensen has ever seen.

The Jock and The Nerd by JuniperLemon Unrelated Wincest High School AU. Sam and Dean go to the same school. Dean asks the school nerd, Sam, on a date. Little do they know that it'll lead to so much more. Is there more behind Sam than what meets the eye and how will John react to Dean's bisexuality?

Kiss Me by lotrspnfangirl Worst case scenario: Jensen would be freaked out and spend the next three weeks until graduation, completely avoiding Jared and not speaking to him. And as much as that would hurt… It was only a dollar to get a kiss from Jensen at the kissing booth.

Little Pieces by compo67 Jensen the Bad Influence is better known as the town hellraiser. He stays out late, skips class, and takes bets on chess games after school. His partner in crime happens to be Jared, raised in a strict Catholic-Protestant household, and reigning chess champion. Together, they've skimmed five hundred dollars from their classmates with no end in sight.If they can survive high school, conquering the rest of the world must be a piece of cake.It just happens that the world has something else in store for them--something no one planned for in a million years.

Mr High School by kinkylittlered This is for a bingo competition on livejournal. Each chapter has prompts. AU Sam is a popular boy in high school and Dean is an invisible boy who is coming to terms with his sexuality. Each chapter will have different warning, eventually leading to slash

Putting On A Show by BewareTheIdes15 Lightning fast Dean's grin slants into sly and Sam's stomach lurches hard enough that his lungs get jealous and jump in on the action. Without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction for approval, Dean lifts one shoulder and says, "I'll make out with Sam."

Say the Words by dollylux A new boy rolls into town, and Jensen Notices. (And... his girlfriend notices him noticing.)

Touch and Go by versaillesatnight Dean Winchester doesn’t date. He fucks around, sure, but the whole dating thing? He’s never seen the appeal. Enter Sam.

Verses Like Yours and Mine by rivers_bend Sam and Dean are regular brothers--no hunting, no demons--who fall in love anyway.

White Knight by echoes_of_another_life Jensen is a senior and protects shy freshman Jared, who is being bullied.

Worth It by saltandbyrne Turns out the only thing more uncomfortable than sitting through class with a half-woody and a pair of panties wedged up your ass is doing it while your panties are soaking wet from your brother's mouth.(Sam is 14).

You Didn't Listen When You Went To School by Posse Magnet (rhink_is_my_kink) The kids at school know the new Winchester brothers are different. Everything about them is strange. From the way Dean effortlessly completes any physical challenge that gym class can throw at him without even breaking a sweat. To the way Sam is the smartest kid in all his classes, even though he's a freshman, and all his classes are college-level and full of seniors. But the most peculiar thing about the Winchesters, the thing that everyone notices: the way they come tumbling out of empty classrooms, closets, bathroom stalls, untidy hair, messy clothes, cheeks flushed with a color that’s almost as intense as the color of their lips.

you're a real f*ing page-turner by grace_fully Jared's days pretty much all run together, one big muddy mess of emotional turmoil and confusion and shitty friends and shittier classes. not to mention that his best friend is equal parts awesome and a complete jerk, his little sister is also kind of a jerk, and he thinks privately that someday his books are going to be the only thing to stand by him in the end. luckily, life has a way of turning things around on him.

Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell by sonofabiscuit77 While the Winchesters are living in a small-town trailer park, sixteen year old Sam accidentally spies on his brother with an older man. The discovery triggers feelings in Sam that lead him and Dean down a path which will change their lives forever.

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xhisokas-harleyx · 3 years

Note

Your Hisoka headcanons were so good😭 and i completely agree with all of them- I wanted request something, u can ignore if u want. 🏃

I am just thinking of a scenario where Hisoka got hurt, by someone who 'cheated' in the fight maybe, and his first instinct was to go to his 'friend's place. And Reader helps him without hesitation, they're even worried and stuff. And he is just like "are they just so naive or dumb? Kind? What do they get from this? And tf is this feeling in my chest? A poison maybe-" Maybe hcs? Or an oneshot? Whatever you like to do. Have a good day or night!:)💛 damn i wrote too much lol sorry

This warms my heart. Thank you SO MUCH for your support!!! And no, you did not write too much! I love having my ego stroked ;) 😂 seriously tho I love hearing from you guys!

I love this prompt. I hope that I was able to bring this to life for you, please feel free to request more!

To be honest, I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I haven’t written in a long time and feel really rusty. I may rewrite it at some point, because I thought of a different way this could also go! At any rate, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 2880 (yeh, it’s a long one :o)

A little song inspiration I had:

As The World Caves In: Matt Maltese

Hisoka x Reader One-Shot: The Man Beneath the Monster

...

Well... this wasn't supposed to happen.

Currently, the jester of everyone's nightmares lay on the ground, golden eyes staring up at the dull night sky while shrapnel and debris etched patterns into his back, remnants of the attack he'd just barely survived. Hisoka didn't normally have much of a problem mowing through his opponents- but then again, they usually didn't possess the ability to play with their enemy's mind. It was insanely unfair, the way he'd been attacked, and while it had been an interesting battle to say the least, Hisoka had barely pulled through.

Admittedly, he was invigorated by the feeling of almost being beaten- save for the searing pain that inched its way through every nerve in his body. Hisoka wasn't usually so affected by pain in general- in fact, more often than not, it gave him a certain indescribable gratification. He tended to brush off the feeling of most wounds he obtained during battle, distracting himself with shuffling his cards or fantasizing about the next battle he'd be facing. Only this time, if he didn't get help, he wasn’t sure there would BE another battle.

Hisoka strained himself to sit up, and looked down at his body, analyzing just how much damage he'd sustained. A deep gash opened up his chest, revealing glimpses of the muscular content underneath, and it was oozing a lot of blood. His arms and legs were burned, and some of the skin was a little charred, which smelled just lovely against the night breeze.

This is going to be difficult to cover with Texture Surprise... he thought, forcing himself a bit angrily to his feet, when he heard the cracking of the joints in his left ankle, indications of a break. He needed medical attention, badly. His gash wasn't going to heal itself, and he would bleed to death within hours if it didn’t get bandaged.

But where could he go? Hospitals wouldn't dare take him- even though he was a hunter, most people wouldn't be caught within miles of him, let alone would provide him any remedy. In fact, most people thought the world would be better off if he were dead anyway.

Maybe they were right.

He chuckled a little at the thought, but as he tried to brush those creeping inner fears off, he soon realized that his normal detached approach wasn't going to work this time. Already, his legs were getting weaker, and his vision was getting a little darker by the second. In that moment of weakness, when he felt the most vulnerable, the magician was puzzled by the singular thought that came to his mind.

Y/N.

She was a girl he’d encountered more than a few times in his travels; not by accident, but through carefully orchestrated meetings he initiated himself. She was strong in his eyes, which was not a compliment that he offered freely, especially to someone who didn’t regularly seek out altercations to smash their enemies. She was strong in a different way- not because of her nen or battle tactics- but because of her resolve. He found it intriguing that she didn’t run at the sight of him (even when he popped up behind her in the park), and he liked that she wasn't afraid to tell him exactly where he could shove his cards, if warranted. Y/N was appealing to him in an indescribable way that made him continue to think up excuses to meet her ‘randomly’- but he could never put his finger on what it was that made her unique. However, through brief conversations and what he considered to be highlights of his travels, he’d gotten to know her only a little, but he hardly had enough contact with her to call her a ‘friend’.

It wasn't like she had any special sort of healing nen. She probably couldn't help him anyway. But if he did bleed out, and his last thought had to be of something...l it might as well be of her.

The pink-haired clown looked to the city up ahead in the distance- he was close to her house already. It didn't take him long to get there; Y/N lived on the outskirts of town in a small place away from most other homes.

It was a place he knew well, although he'd never been inside. He'd spent more than a few long nights watching the residence from the rooftop of a distant neighboring home as he denied his human emotions. He often watched her pack groceries, or try to figure out why her porch light wasn't working (which he certainly had nothing to do with), or watch TV on the couch all alone.

Hisoka quite liked those stupid romantic comedies that played late at night on the local channel. His only opportunity to watch them was through her window- and in his mind, he was sure that she left the subtitles on because she can somehow sense his presence. She usually fell asleep watching those, and missed the part where the hero gets the girl. He always watched that part with particular interest, but he can't figure out what makes the protagonists so special to each other. If there was a feeling that caused them to sacrifice so much for one another… he sure didn’t know what it could be.

But he's not a hero, so why would he know what that feels like?

As Hisoka reached her door and lifted his hand to the doorknob, not bothering to knock, a pang of what could only be anxiety ripped through him. It was well past 2 AM, and he knew she had things to do early in the morning. Their previous encounters had been abnormal, to say the least, complete with him teasing her and being a douchebag. He's been nothing but an annoyance to Y/N, so why would she help him?

As soon as he was about to pull his hand away, the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking y/n in its place. Hisoka was bent over in pain, holding his chest, but as she startled him a little, he straightened up and put on his mask, acting complacent and confident. He wanted to say something smart and witty like he always does- that always helped to bat the pain away. But his lips wouldn't move- his tongue wouldn't function as he stared at her, unable to reach out in a way that normal humans seem to find so easy.

He felt frozen in that moment. He was normally so deliberately irreverent, but seeing the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Don’t let her see this weakness. It was a plea to himself.

But Hisoka had no choice. He was broken, and he needed her to fix him. He wasn’t used to depending on someone else to save his life, but now his life rested in the hands of someone who most likely despised him.

"...Hisoka." Y/N breathed, her eyes widening as she placed a hand over her open mouth. Only seconds passed before her delicate hands were pulling him inside the door without hesitation. She didn't bother to ask what happened, what kind of trouble he'd gotten into, or whether she would also be in danger. Instead, she sat him down on the couch, laying a pillow under his head for comfort, which he annoyingly refused to use until he absolutely couldn’t hold his head up any longer.

Hisoka was a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and the crimson river was flowing all over y/n's lightly colored couch. He was puzzled by the swiftness of her reaction, and he watched tepidly as she shuffled frantically through the drawers in the bathroom for something to heal him. Though he was on the brink of death, his default deflection of emotions still shone through, a reflex that he didn’t even mean to activate.

“I don’t need your help, you know.” He said with an impudent grin, watching as she began to work on his wounds. “It’s just a scratch. But I can see how badly you want to touch me…” Why was he like this? Here she was, giving up everything to help him (a criminal and the scum of the Earth),yet he can’t so much as even show her an iota of gratitude. He knows, but will never admit that it comes from his inner vulnerability; that fear of getting hurt by these things called emotions. She could just as easily let him bleed to death in front of her; he knows she has the capability to be stone cold. But she won’t… why?

Why?

Y/N could have easily let Hisoka’s false complacency hurt her. But she knows that what he cannot express in his words, his heart cannot truly hide. It was the way he was built, she told herself, and she pushed on through his antics because she wanted to see him safe again. Through the laceration in his tough exterior, she could not only see the flesh beneath, but a glimpse of the man he tried to hide using the monster that he assumed everyone saw.

But she was different.

The jester was confused by her silence. Normally, she would have retorted at his smugness, but right now, she didn’t even seem concerned with it as she began to fumble with cleaning his wounds. The alcohol seared his flesh just as the emotions boiling within him burned his heart. Why would she ever care to help him when he’s been nothing but rude and degrading to her? Could it be that she really can see through the detached front and overbearing persona? Impossible, he’s spent years building that reputation!

Suddenly, he became enthralled with the way Y/N’s eyes focused on threading the needle to sew up his gash. The way that those fingertips danced over his pale skin made him jolt unexpectedly at her touch, exhibiting a softness that Hisoka has never known before. In fact, he can’t even fathom someone wanting to touch him without the intention to hurt him in some way.

The details slowly became a blur in his depressed mental state- but he still analyzed every motion Y/N made.

Oddly, the promised sting of death had never scared Hisoka before; he did as he pleased, without care for his own life nor anyone else’s. But as his vision faded, and he watched her through the gaze of someone nearing death, he realized that he did not want to leave this world yet. He wanted to live- and maybe he wanted to discover and experience what he’d been missing in those movies he’d watched through her window.

With that, Hisoka’s heart began to beat faster.

Blood loss. That’s what it is… Hisoka thought; but he wasn’t stupid; only unwilling to admit that he was beginning to exhibit the same qualities he saw in the protagonists of those hopeless romantic flicks. He was unable to accept that the tightening in his chest was not just because of her stitches pulling his lacerated skin together.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?” Her voice brought him out of the trance-like state he was in, and his golden eyes focused on her face. Her hands were covered in his blood (which in itself made him feel delightfully feverish), but his gash had been mended, the bleeding stopped for now. Once again, he didn’t say anything. It was unusual for the smug magician to keep his mouth shut.

“Because if you didn’t kill them, I’m going to.” A protective tone dripped into her voice, bewildering Hisoka again. That quality in her voice was both threatening and comforting, and the duality sent a chill up his spine. It inspired him to use his voice, though it had lost some of its signature modulation.

“You have that little faith in me…” A cough escaped his lips before he could smile as if nothing was bothering him at all. “Of course I killed them, my dear.” Somehow, calling her ‘dear’ no longer felt right; that was typically a placeholder, a default name to use for someone he had no connection with, and she seemed to be worthy of more than that now.

As Y/N suddenly dipped to her knees, Hisoka refrained from any lewd thoughts that he normally might have had in such a situation. That sensation in his chest was too distracting to allow this memory to be defiled with something he often indulged in fantasies of. She began to slide the high-heeled shoe off of his swollen foot to wrap it. She began to struggle with ripping the fabric she’d gathered to act as a cast for the bone.

Surely, she knows who I am. Why would she bother to help someone like me? What is she gaining? She knows that with the flip of a card, I could end her life. She’s not even protecting herself in any way. She’s leaving her guard down right in front of me.

Perhaps it was his dark desire to set fear into everyone he came across, or his distorted need to drive away anyone who might care for him, but his body suddenly acted on its own. By instinct, almost as if it were a test of her intention, a card spawned between his middle and index finger, which was right against her neck. With just a slight movement of his knuckles, he could spill her blood. His golden eyes analyzed the way she froze for a moment, and he believed that to be the end of this fragile trust between them. That was until she lifted the fabric she was holding, sliding it along the edge of the card, and cutting it to the perfect length.

“Thanks.” She spoke, beginning to wrap and set the ankle in place.

At that small motion, Hisoka’s discretionary eyes widened, and his lips fell open in surprise. Rather than interpreting his advance as an attack, she’d innocently taken it as an offer of his help. Was this a joke? Was she stupid enough to trust him, or was she bold enough to outsmart his games? Was Y/N this confident that he wouldn’t just kill her? This naive girl at his feet seemed to be the only person in this convoluted world who didn’t see him as a disgusting, heartless monster… and that warmed his icy heart.

“I’m surprised this hasn’t happened before. I know you’re graceful, but high heels are always a recipe for a broken ankle.” She offset the pain of wrapping those bones by talking to him all through the procedure, and it worked wonders. He scoffed, but by that time, Hisoka’s snide comments and emotion-killing thoughts had been expended. Somehow, she’d broken through the barrier that he’d spent so long building around himself.

Unable to ignore his whims anymore, Hisoka reached out to touch Y/N’s hair, the soft delicate strands pleasing his senses. It’s the only movement he can make now, his body weakened from the loss of blood. His gilded eyes were barely open, but they looked directly into hers with an unfamiliar realization. His hand travelled weakly down her face, caressing her cheek with the most delicate touch he could muster, and held her head in his large hand as she froze there. He wondered for a moment if she was afraid, or if something deeper that he cannot see calms her.

A small, genuine smile is all he could muster for her before his hand dropped to the side of the couch, the same couch he watched her curl up on most nights. For once, it’s not a smirk, and it’s not a smug smile- but something she has never seen before- a true smile with good intention behind it. His eyes closed, with uncertainty that they would open in the morning.

After she’d finished her work, she stood up, and looked down at him. The only remaining light in the room was the silent flicker of the television set in the background, which illuminated both of their faces.

“I need you to be alright, Hisoka,” She cooed, unable to know if he could still hear her. He didn’t know if she even realized how much he wanted to kill her right now, because the way her kindness was attacking his heart while his chest was already sliced open was something he should not excuse.

As Y/N’s final healing gesture, she bent over his body gracefully. He was taken off guard when he felt the feathery soft sensation of her lips on his forehead, the kiss of an angel on his clammy skin. As she went to pull away, however, she was startled by the lunge of Hisoka’s hand initiating a death grip on her wrist. He used the last bit of his strength to pull her lips into his, causing her to lose balance and be forced to brace on either side of the couch cushion below him. His lips were cold, but Y/N graciously returned the sensation, and boldly moved to embrace both sides of his face with her mending hands. Before she pulled away, and he passed out, she felt that same smile against her lips.

And in that moment, before he fades away, Hisoka realizes what he’s been missing.

Y/N.

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

Hmm... part two? I KNOW, it’s super freakin’ sappy. I could have taken a lighthearted approach to this (and maybe I will later), but I wanted to kind of challenge myself to write a more depth-driven version of Hisoka. Maybe I bit off a little more than I can chew :0.

Anyway, let me know what you think, and once again thanks to anon for the request! Hope you all enjoyed!

Mac

#hisoka morow #hisoka x reader #x reader #reader insert #hxh #hunterxhunter #feeling sappy #love #lovelorn #ooc? probably #hxh 2011 #hisoka

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

take me home

(not my gif)

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @tinylatina01 @obx-direction-sos @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @pixelated-pogues @dpaccione @thatshiscigar @hesscott @damonsalvawhore @fanficscuziranout @trustfundparker @teamnick @becca-harlow @trashmouthpogues @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @tomzfrog @arthriticcrickets @midnightmagicmusings @outerbankslove @justawilddreamerchild @jjandreidsgirl @apoguecalledjj @lilmoviehoe @bellaguarneri @harrys-creature @nivky0-0 @ijustreallylovethem

a/n: well well well i’m trying a short series for the first time! it’s a fake dating trope, because i just read the to all the boys i’ve loved before series and now i’m a sucker for fake dating. i don’t think there’ll be too many parts, i’ll fit plenty into each chapter. i really hope you like these.

Rafe Cameron loves to get on your nerves. He’ll watch you squirm as he hits on you everytime you swing by the Cameron residence, and he has admitted to your face that he enjoys it. You don’t see the appeal. You do, however, see the appeal in smacking his creepy sneer off his face.

But you’re almost 100% sure that would turn him on.

It doesn’t help that you’ve known Rafe since before you were potty trained, and it sure as hell isn’t helping that the boy who shamelessly attempts to touch you whenever you’re near him is nothing like the boy who used to pick flowers for you and sit with you while you braided them into flower crowns. It doesn’t help that you loved him first. Long before he changed, morphed into a boy you would give anything to be far, far away from. You can’t be near him, it makes your heart break all over again.

All over again, you experience the pain of when he stopped smiling at you in the hallways in the beginning of freshman year. All of the pain of that midnight call from Sarah, telling you she found Rafe unconscious on the bathroom floor with the coke still on his nose, and she didn’t know what to do. All of that pain, every time you have to see a boy you thought you once knew.

Rafe always had it the worst. Out of all the kooks in your little group: you, Rafe, Kie, Sarah and occasionally Topper, Rafe had always had it the worst.

Finances were never one of your problems, but when you live on Figure 8, you find there’s a lot more to be worried about than cocktail parties and marble foyers. The dream image that families like the Cameron’s or the Thornton’s have up of the perfect, kook family is just that.

A dream. Part of the Cameron’s intimidation and rule over this side of the island comes from the twisted stories ladies in stilettos will whisper about at parties.

Girls like you and Sarah, boys like Topper, they do alright. They hold up under scrutinization, under haughty, judging stares. People like Rafe crack.

People that were like Rafe crack. They break, and the shards of who they used to be reassemble into something new. People that were like Rafe turn into who he is now.

Rafe Cameron loves watching you squirm. That’s what he’s doing today, whistling at you as you lift a hand to block out the sun, hiking across the lawn to where Sarah is lounging.

“Looking good, Y/l/n!” He cups his hands around his mouth. You flip him off in response, almost as if it’s second nature. He salutes you back.

“Sarah!” You call out, trying not to trip over floppy $70 sandals as you stand over her chaise, casting a shadow over her.

“Bitch, move, you’re blocking the sun.” She swatted a hand at you.

“I have a proposition.” You settled your hands on your hips, sticking your elbows out. Sarah groaned, lifting her sunglasses up into her hair and propping herself up on her elbows.

“Nothing good has ever happened any time you started with that line.” “It gets you to listen, doesn’t it?” You sat near her legs. She sighed.

“Okay, shoot.” “Yes, okay, so there’s this party tonight, and I really, really need someone to go with me.” You began hesitantly.

“That’s all? Yeah, I’m free tonight- “That’s not all.” You winced. “It’s not exactly, like, a kook party?”

Sarah frowned. “What does that mean?” “I guess you could say it’s kind of the opposite of a kook party.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s a pogue party? You want us to go to a pogue party?” “Not all of us! Just me and you! The boys will never find out.” “Why do you want to go so bad, anyways?”

“I was,” you paused, searching for the right word, “invited.” “Invited?” “I promised someone I’d be there. And I also promised you’d be with me.” You boop her nose.

Sarah sat up fully, swinging her legs over the chaise so she was sitting next to you.

“I’ll go with you,” she flicks you when you cheer, “but I have a few conditions.”

You nod dutifully. “Yes. Anything. I accept.” “Okay, first, Rafe and Topper, and subsequently Kelce, will never hear about this. Topper will die of shame, and I think Rafe will disown me.” “I don’t think you can disown your sibling.” “Well, then, he’ll be super disappointed. In both of us. He likes you more than he likes me.” “I’d be glad to get your brother to like me a little bit less. Maybe I could walk in your house without being catcalled. Sorry. No offense.”

“None taken. I don’t like him either.” Sarah shoves your shoulder with hers. “Do you promise?” She sticks out a thumb towards you.

It’s a tradition you’ve kept since you were in the 6th grade, when Rafe decided the pinky promises you made were too childish for middle school and rallied the boys into teasing anyone who made them. Thumby promises were your escape.

You hold up your thumb but hesitate to link it with hers, pulling it back at the last second. “Here’s the thing, I won’t tell anyone anything, but I can’t promise someone at the party won’t tell them. Also, what if they just show up? They go to these all the time.”

Sarah shrugs. “Well, if they show up, then they can’t really be mad at us for being there. Okay, just promise you won’t tell them.” She shakes her thumb at you again, and this time you hook yours into it.

“Promise. What are your other conditions?” “Right, the second is I get to borrow your pink bikini next time we go to the beach.” “Done.” “And lastly, you have to tell me who you promised.”

“What?” You blink at her. “You said you promised someone that we would be there. Who? Was it that one boy? The Maybank boy? Oh, what did we call him?” She scrunches her eyes shut to remember before she snaps. “Goldilocks!”

Your cheeks flush red at her insinuation. Sarah might be the only person who knows about your 9th grade five-month-long obsession with JJ Maybank, sparked by your first kiss in a custodial closet. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had loved him, but it was an intense crush. Sarah had dubbed him Goldilocks after his phase of weirdly long hair. It ended abruptly, you just forgot all about him. You don’t remember what made you forget.

“No, no, of course not. Ew, Sarah.” You shook your head. “It was Kiara.”

Sarah’s eyes furrowed. “Kiara? Why would she want us around?”

“I guess she wants to make amends?” “Okay, maybe with you, but I can guarantee Kiara wasn’t asking you to bring me.” “Maybe so. But someone there was asking for you.” “No, Y/n, no, I’m still with Topper.” “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious you both have a thing for each other. He was asking if you’d come, what was I supposed to say?” “No!”

“Okay, well, you already promised that you’d come, and I met all of your conditions so you don’t really have a choice.” You tipped your head at Sarah.

“Fuck you.” She muttered. “Alright, fine. I’ll pick you up at 10.”

“Yes! Okay, bye, I’ll see you tonight!” You grabbed her before she could swat you away and kissed her cheek goodbye. You patted her cheek and rushed off.

“What, no bye-bye kiss for me?” Rafe called to you. “Fuck off, Rafe.”

When Sarah came, 30 minutes later than she was supposed to, you were waiting on the steps of your house.

“Finally!” You yanked the car door open and crashed in the passenger seat.

“Sorry!” She pulled out of the driveway. “Rafe was interrogating me while I was trying to leave.”

“Just floor it, Kiara won’t stop texting me.” “Nothing interesting ever happens at a party before 11, anyways.”

Sarah was wrong.

The second you pull up to the kegger, the crowd surrounding Rafe is already very obvious. Sarah grabs your hand, hustling you to the front of the crowd. He’s tossing around in the sand, trying to pin down JJ Maybank.

“How did he get here before us?” “Because you were half an hour late!” You can’t help but point out the obvious.

“Just help me, okay?” Sarah times herself against their wrestling, charging forward to grab Rafe’s arm when he draws it back to deliver a blow to JJ.

“Rafe, stop! Stop!” She shouts, and always right behind her, you put your palms on his chest and push him back. You look back at Kiara who is tugging away JJ, but he stumbles, startled. His jaw is clenched and as she pulls him, he glances at you.

In that one glance is a split second of recognition, shock and confusion, before the moment passes and he’s forgotten you again. Closely followed by a medley of angry shouts and shoving from his friends. “Fucking kooks.” He mutters.

You turn back to Rafe, who is ready to explode on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe? At least we were invited!”

You’ve heard this conversation at least a hundred times, and you know how it ends. Bored of it already, you wipe your red cheeks and leave them to argue.

This night has gone to shit and you haven’t even talked to Kiara yet. You’ve collapsed on a log to watch the waves crash and pull back when he sits next to you.

“Y/n Y/l/n. Well, damn. It’s been a while.” “A while? Try 2 years.”

JJ scoffs. “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?”

That shuts you up.

You’ve questioned yourself for two years about JJ. It was a short-lived story, but one full of young love, peeking glances and shy conversations. It was sweet and careless, and you believe something in your brain is blocking out the reasons it ended.

The reasons you ignored him in the hallway the same way Rafe ignored you.

The one thing you can’t block out is the lingering feeling. The warm, fuzzy butterflies of those small smiles and stuttered sentences. You feel them again when anyone brings him up. You felt them when Sarah guessed that he invited you here.

Maybe you wished he did.

You feel them now as you look at him up close for the first time in forever. And they’re stronger.

The butterflies are stronger than they used to be.

And that is how you stop questioning yourself, that is how you know that some part of your heart will always belong to JJ Maybank.

You press your lips together and stare at him for a second longer.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He ends your moment of bliss earlier than you had hoped.

“Like what?” “Like you don’t recognize me. Like you don’t know me.”

You sniff. “JJ, I don’t think I do.”

JJ kicks the sand under his feet.

“That’s bullshit. You know me.” “I knew you. I knew 14 year old you.” You correct him.

“Have I really changed that much?” He laughs.

“You have, you know?” He keeps going when you say nothing. “I had such a big fucking thing for you, god.”

“Yeah, it was mutual.” “I know!” He exclaims, excited, then tries again, softer. “I know.”

“And then, you just ditched me.” He says abruptly.

“That’s not what- “That’s exactly what happened!” He interrupts, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

“You just cut me out of your life. What, did you outgrow a pogue? Only rich boys are good enough for the kook princess?” His tone gets more and more aggressive.

“I’m telling you, that is not how it happened.” You insist.

“Okay, you know what, okay,” JJ turns towards you, scratching his head. “So, if that’s not what happened, then what was it? Because it hurt, Y/n. It hurt so fucking bad.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “I don’t need an apology, I want to know what I did. Why did you stop wanting to be around me?”

The questions brings your racing mind to a full stop. You had been praying he wouldn’t ask.

You don’t have an answer for him.

“I don’t- I genuinely don’t know, JJ. It just stopped, okay?” “That’s more BS. Things just don’t end. I get it now. I get what happened. I get your reasons.” He begins nodding.

JJ looks up then, and his face tightens, jaw clenching the same way it did after the fight.

“And one of those reasons is walking this way.”

You turn to see what he’s looking at, and Rafe Cameron is stumbling towards you two. You turn to ask JJ what that means, when Rafe grabs your shoulder and nearly flings you back around to look at him. You can smell the beer on his breath.

“Y/n, what are you doing with this guy? I’ve been looking for you all night!” He grabs your wrist. “C’mon, we’re going.” He slurs, trying to drag you away.

“Rafe, stop!” You pull back your wrist, stunning him for a second. “I’m not going with you. Tell Sarah I’ll get a ride with Kiara.”

He tightens his grasp on you. “To what, spend more time with this asshole? Let’s go.” He growls.

“Let go of me, I’m not coming with you!” You use your other hand to try and force Rafe’s grip off your wrist. “I’m sick of this, Rafe!” You finally push him off of you and he stumbles back, sobering up a little.

“I’m so sick of this!” You stumble over your words. “You’re scaring me! Who the hell are you, Rafe? Who are you?” You pull the loose hair that the wind has blown over your face out of the way. “Don’t- don’t touch me. I’m not coming with you. Don’t touch me.”

You can’t tell if Rafe is sober right now or not, but you pray he’s not. If he’s high, then maybe he’ll forget what you just said to him. If he’s high, maybe the next time you have to see him, you won’t have to see the wounded look he gives you now. “Y/n,” he starts towards you, but he doesn’t reach for you. His eyes are sad when he speaks again. “I’m sorry.”

He reaches for you now. “I’m sor-”She said don’t touch her.”

JJ has steps in front of you as you scramble back, effectively blocking you from Rafe.

“Get out of the way, Maybank.” “She said don’t touch her. She won’t be going with you, so you can leave now. Head on out, cowboy.” JJ gives him a fake smile, one you can hear in his voice.

“This doesn’t concern you, pogue.” Rafe spits.

“Go home, Rafe.” Your voice comes out strong. You try to move around JJ, but he uses his arm to keep you tucked behind him.

“What, you’re protecting pogues now, Y/n? What is this, is he your boyfriend or something?” Rafe snickers.

JJ glances back at you before he turns to Rafe and confidently says, “Yeah. I am.”

Your eyes grow to the size of saucers, mimicking Rafe’s expression.

“What the fuck?” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, so why don’t you leave now. I’ll be taking Y/n home.” JJ’s voice is stone cold.

“Y/n, is this true? Are you dating this fucker?” Rafe jabs a finger in JJ’s chest, staring him down but speaking to you. The hand JJ is using to keep you back moves up to pinch your side when you glance at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s true.”

Rafe laughs slowly, one of disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Y/l/n. You know what, you deserve each other.” He backs away slowly, then turns and storms out of sight.

JJ turns around and his mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I just wanted him to leave you alone without starting something, I’m- “It’s fine, Maybank.” You run a hand through your hair.

“It’s fine, just. Just take me home.”

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all-hail-the-witcher · 3 years

Text

say yes to the plus one

the sequel to say yes to the drinks. which you should read first. i am so tired. just have it.

ship: geraskier

warnings: none

editing: ish

words: over 3k but under 4k

genre: floof

After getting drinks with Geralt, Jaskier could not stop thinking about him. He found himself taking more time with his appearance each morning - something that he hadn't even thought would be possible - hoping that Geralt would come into the store.

But Geralt still hadn’t come into Kleinfelds since the day of his trunk show. Jaskier tried not to be disappointed. He knew that he was very busy and it had been a one off that he had even met him in the first place.

Still, he couldn’t help but think that the two of them had something. There must have been some sort of chemistry between the two of them. Why else had Geralt asked him to get drinks after he had made that awful slip up with the magic fingers? Surely, he must feel something for him.

He had been texting Jaskier though, so Jaskier knew that he was at least still interested. Every message that he got wishing him a good morning or about some funny wedding dress design or of a picture of Geralt’s Pomeranian, Roach, made his heart flutter. There just had to be a future for them, right?

So, Jaskier went through yet another day of busy appointments at Kleinfelds, hoping that he would run into Geralt.

Late May into early June was always a busy time for them. Jaskier didn't personally understand the appeal of getting married in a zillion degree heat, but to each their own. This was by far his least favorite part of the year though. He spent every hour at work on his feet, hardly getting a break as he rushed from appointment to appointment: checking on alterations, making sure that every bride was getting their dream dress, and providing tweaks to designs when necessary to prevent bridal meltdowns.

It was nothing short of exhausting.

“Jaskier!” Camille, one of the consultants, called to him at around mid afternoon.

He had just spent the last hour trying to get a very adamant, very conservative mom and a very eccentric bride on the same page. He needed a daiquiri. Or three. Still, he turned around and put on his brightest smile.

“Yes, darling?”

“You’re needed down in alterations,” she said with a sweet smile.

Jaskier nodded and turned back through the salon to walk down to alterations. He hated going to alterations. If he was needed there, it usually meant that shit had hit the fan in some sense. He braced himself for a long afternoon.

He walked up to the manager, about to ask her where he was needed, when a shout from behind him made him jump.

“Jaskier!”

And a swell of desire rose up in Jaskier’s stomach because he knew that gravelly voice. Quickly, he straightened his tie, thankful he had worn his good pink one today, before taking a deep breath and turning around.

“Geralt!” he said, trying furiously to keep his cheeks from flushing. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Surprise?” Geralt’s brows furrowed together as he walked up to Jaskier, his wolfs head cane clicking across the floor. He was wearing a light blue button down today with the sleeves cuffed to his forearms that made his golden eyes pop and Jaskier had to struggle to keep his eyes on his face. “I texted you this morning.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened as he reached into his blazer pocket for his phone. Sure enough, there were two messages from Geralt. The first was a picture of Roach, lying in a patch of sun in his apartment. The second was a message that read:

Hey, I’m going to be at Kleinfelds today doing a custom fitting. Can you help with the appointment?

And Jaskier had never even seen it. Much less responded.

“Oh Geralt, I am so terribly sorry,” Jaskier said quickly. “This is our busiest time of year and I have hardly had a moment to think today.”

“You don’t have to help,” Geralt said sincerely, concern clouding his eyes. “I don’t want to push you too hard with the rest of your appointments, but I just figured that since I was here, I would ask.”

“No, no darling!” Jaskier said, rushing to reassure him. “Of course I will help! Helping you is much better than dealing with emotional brides and entourages that aren’t on the same page.”

“It’s alright Jaskier,” Geralt said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I know you just want to see my magic hands at work again.”

This time, Jaskier did flush bright red. “ You! ” he said outrageously, gaping at Geralt’s audacity to bring up his slip up from last time. “You need a nap!”

But Geralt just laughed, a glorious sound that sent shivers down Jaskier’s spine. “I think you’re the one who needs the nap, Jaskier.”

Jaskier shot him an incredulous look. How dare he make such assumptions, and how dare he be right?

“Anyway, the fitting is for my brother’s fiancee,” Geralt explained. “I made her a custom dress and she’s coming in for her fitting today. There was a shipping delay, so we only have time for one fitting before their wedding next week. I was hoping you could help.”

Jaskier could see the tension that had creeped its way into Geralt’s broad shoulders and the worry that was clouding his pretty face.

Jaskier placed a reassuring hand on Geralt’s arm. “Of course I’ll help, darling. Helping resolve wedding dress disasters is my specialty. Er- not that your dress is a disaster,” he said quickly, amused by the way that Geralt’s eyebrows had shot up. “Nothing that you design could ever be a disaster, the way that you work lace and beads is just divine, not a disaster. Not in any way a disaster. What I meant was the fact that she only has one fitting, that’s the disaster. Not your dress.”

“My magic fingers are quite incapable of creating a disaster dress, you’re right,” Geralt winked.

Jaskier resisted the urge to smack his shoulder. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” Geralt looked far too pleased with himself. “Can you grab the dress for me? It’s on the rack for the day. And can you bring it to room 13?”

“Of course,” Jaskier said. He’d let the magic fingers comment slide for now. Geralt looked far too attractive with his moonlight silver hair in an artful bun, tendrils framing his face, for him to stay mad at him for long. He had never been able to resist a pretty face.

“Thank you.” Geralt moved past Jaskier and began to make his way to the room. Jaskier turned to watch him walk down the hall. His ass looked far too delicious in those gorgeous, fitted navy pinstripe pants. He just had to appreciate it. It would be a crime not to.

Distantly, he wondered if his ass looked just as delicious without the pants on. And was he wearing boxers or briefs? Oh who was he kidding, he had to be wearing at least briefs with pants like those. But what color? Geralt seemed like the type of man to appreciate a fun pair of underwear and-

Jaskier. Get your head out of the gutter.

He made a beeline to the rack and grabbed the dress. He had already left Geralt waiting long enough.

“Here you are,” Jaskier said, hanging the dress in the room.

Geralt fidgeted with his shirt sleeves, eyeing the bag. With a pang, Jaskier realized that he was nervous.

“I’m sure she’s going to love the dress,” Jaskier said, putting as much sincerity as he could into his words. “You are one of the best designers in the industry, Geralt.”

“I know,” Geralt said. “But I’ve never designed for someone that I know before, there’s more risk involved if they don't like it. Cause she’s put all her trust in me and what if she doesn’t like it? This is her only fitting. There isn't time to make anything else."

“Geralt,” Jaskier placed his hand over Geralt’s where he was still fidgeting with his sleeve. “She’s going to love it. Don’t doubt yourself so much, it ruins your pretty face.”

Fuck, did he just really say that out loud?

Geralt’s doubt dissipated as he looked at Jaskier amusedly. “You think my face is pretty?”

“Well who wouldn’t?” Jaskier said, trying and failing to backpedal. “It’s a plenty beautiful face, I mean you’ve got a nose and eyes and everything and…”

“I would hope I have a nose and eyes, yes,” Geralt laughed. Then, he leaned in, as if telling Jaskier a secret. “I’ve also heard that I have lips, too.”

Jaskier was saved the embarrassment of having to respond by a consultant escorting who Jaskier assumed to be Geralt’s brother’s fiancee and her entourage into the alterations area.

“Geralt!” a pretty girl with dark, curly hair said as she stepped up to hug him.

“Hi Triss,” Geralt said, giving her a polite hug and waving to the rest of the entourage. “Are you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited,” she said. “It’s only a week away, Geralt. This better be every bit as perfect as you said it would be.”

“It will be.” Geralt’s smile was easy, as if he hadn’t been freaking out about the appointment moments before.

“And who is this?” Triss asked, turning to Jaskier.

“Oh, everyone, this is Jaskier. He’s a consultant here and my friend,” Geralt said.

“Hello!” Jaskier said, giving everyone a wave.

“Jaskier, this is Triss, the bride to be. She’s marrying my brother.” Geralt gestured to the woman with the dark hair standing in front of them.

“Hello darling,” Jaskier said, shaking her hand. “You look just gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Triss smiled.

“And this is Triss’s friend Yennefer, Yennefer’s daughter Ciri, my other brother Lambert, and Lambert’s husband Aiden,” Geralt said, pointing at the people sitting on the bench.

Jaskier waved to them all and gave them his best customer service smile.

“Tell me about your fiancee, darling,” Jaskier said to Triss.

“I am getting married to Eskel,” she said, her face lighting up immediately. “We’ve known each other forever and he is perfect.”

“Forever is an understatement,” Geralt said. “They went to kindergarten together.”

“Oh, a childhood love story!” Jaskier clapped his hands together. “How romantic! Let’s hope you have a dress to match.” He turned to Geralt.

“Well darling,” Jaskier said, gesturing to the garment bag that Triss’s dress was in. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Geralt stepped up to the garment bag, his shoulder taught with anxiety.

“Take a breath, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, just quiet enough for only Geralt to hear. “She’s going to love it.”

Geralt nodded once before unzipping the bag and pulling out the dress. Jaskier couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous,” Triss gasped next to him, taking Jaskier’s words right out of his mouth. “Geralt, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“You haven’t even put it on yet,” Geralt said, stepping away so that the entourage could see it as well.

“I don’t have to to know that it’s everything I wanted and probably more,” she said, giving Geralt another hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought that he saw a light blush tinting his cheeks. Was Geralt embarrassed? Oh that was just adorable…

The dress itself was gorgeous, just as Jaskier suspected it would be. It was a glorious ivory color that seemed to shift under the lights to be a gorgeous pale blush pink. The skirt appeared to be A line and was sleeveless with a high neck. The bodice had an intricate lace and beading design that blended into the skirt. Jaskier knew that the dress was going to be amazing but Triss was right, Geralt had really outdone himself.

“Would you like to put it on, darling?” Jaskier asked.

Triss nodded, still not tearing her eyes from the dress as Geralt stepped out of the dressing room and Jaskier closed the curtains behind him.

He helped Triss into the dress, zipping up the back effortlessly.

“Oh it fits you like a glove darling,” he remarked. “Almost like it was made for you. Oh wait-” he smiled at her. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Triss laughed at his terrible joke - bless her - as she fingered the lace and beads on the front. “I wasn’t expecting it to look this beautiful,” she whispered.

“Well then let's spin you round, darling,” Jaskier said, taking her hand as she turned to face the mirror. “That’ll really shock you.”

“Oh my god.” She clapped her hands over her mouth as she gaped at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side to look at herself better. “Oh my god .”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Jaskier smiled at her. “Geralt is far more talented than he gives himself credit for.”

“Tell me about it,” Triss said distractedly as she continued to stare at the dress. “This is absolutely gorgeous. I love it. Eskel’s going to love it. Everyone’s going to love it.”

“Stop feeding pretty boy’s ego and show us then!” someone shouted from the other side of the curtain.

“Fuck off, Lambert!” Triss called back. “I’m having my bridal moment,” she whispered, tears springing up in her eyes as she continued to stare, utterly transfixed by the dress.

“Here, darling,” Jaskier said, pulling his pink pocket square out of his breast pocket. “You don't want to get your mascara on the dress now, do you?”

Triss dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath before handing the handkerchief back to Jaskier.

“Are you ready to show your entourage?”

“She better be!” Lambert shouted from outside again.

Triss let out a watery laugh. “Yeah, I am.”

Jaskier drew back the curtain as Triss turned around.

“Oh, Triss,” Yennefer said, tears unmistakably clouding her eyes. “You look gorgeous.”

“Holy fuck, Geralt,” Aiden muttered as he stared at the dress, his jaw dropped. “ You designed that ?”

“Hey!” Lambert elbowed him. “I already said that pretty boy doesn’t need his ego inflated any more than it is!”

“Okay but fucking look at the dress, Lambert. It’s fucking gorgeous. And I’m half fucking blind. ”

Lambert shrugged. “Yeah I mean it’s nice. It’s a dress. It’s fabric. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say she looks beautiful!” Aiden nearly shouted, smacking Lambert’s shoulder. “And that Geralt did a great job because if you don't I swear your ass-”

“Boys.” Triss crossed her arms. “There are children present.”

“I’m nineteen!” Ciri protested, throwing her hands up.

Triss ignored her. “There are children present and this is my fitting. So Lambert, shut up and tell your brother he did a good job.”

“You did a good job not fucking it up, Ger,” Lambert muttered.

“I’ll take it. And Aiden? You can finish that sentence later,” she said with a pointed look.

She turned to Jaskier, who had been watching the entire exchange with raised eyebrows. “Sorry about them, they are always like this.”

Lambert flipped her off. Aiden threw up a peace sign.

“Well,” Jaskier said, trying to contain his laughter. “Clearly they are meant for eachother.” He was just glad that he hadn’t had to diffuse the situation. He was tired of telling entourages to get along.

“It’s a good thing they got married then,” Geralt said, standing slowly and walking over to Triss. “You like the dress then?”

Triss once again read Jaskier’s mind and playfully punched Geralt’s shoulder. “I fucking love it . I was right, it is everything I wanted and more. Thank you.” Her eyes were shining with tears again and this time, it was painfully obvious that Geralt blushed when he looked down at his shoes.

“Of course, it was my pleasure,” Geralt said, squeezing her arm. “I’m glad you and Eskel are finally tying the knot, I couldn't imagine a more perfect match for him than you.”

“Geralt,” Triss sighed, the tears pooling in her eyes spilling over again. “You didn't need to make me cry more! The dress was enough!”

Geralt just laughed. Jaskier silently passed Triss his pocket square again.

“Is there anything big that you want to change or do I just need to adjust the fit?” Geralt asked.

“Just the fit,” Triss said, dabbing at her eyes again.

Geralt nodded and set to work, silently slipping into the zone, pinning and adjusting and occasionally stepping back and squinting at his work. Jaskier knew that Triss and her entourage were talking, but he didn't even pretend to be paying attention. He was much more content to watch Geralt work, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the fabric as he made the already gorgeous gown look somehow even more phenomenal.

“Alright,” Geralt said, stepping back. “I think that that should be good, spin round for me.”

Triss turned to look in the mirror.

“Does it look okay?” Geralt asked and Triss punched his shoulder again. “Ow!”

“Geralt if you don't stop insulting your frankly quite stunning work, I will have to steal your little demon dog,” she said, looking over the dress in the mirror. “But yes, everything looks good.”

“Roach isn’t a demon,” Geralt pouted, and oh fuck wasn’t that adoreable.

“That fucking dog almost bit my hand off!” Lambert shouted from the bench.

Geralt made several rude gestures at him and Jaskier nearly swooned. Fucking hell he was gone for this man. And it was only the second time that he had seen him.

“Jaskier, can you get her out of the dress?” Geralt asked. “Be careful with all the pins.”

Jaskier nodded, very much at a loss for words.

“C’mon darling,” Jaskier said, tugging the curtain closed behind Geralt again.

He undid the zipper on the back of Triss’s dress and helped tug the dress off her shoulders, mindful of the many pins that Geralt had put in it.

“Have you and Geralt known each other long?” Triss asked.

“Oh, no not at all,” Jaskier said, glad that he was standing behind her and couldn't see the flush of his cheeks. “He helped me with an appointment a few months ago and we went out for drinks after and we’ve been texting occasionally, but that’s it.” He didn’t say that he wished it was more.

“You went out for drinks on the day you first met?” Triss asked, letting her voice rise. “That’s interesting, Geralt doesn’t often go out with people that he’s just met.”

There was a shout from the other side of the curtain, but it was muffled almost immediately, the sound of a hand slapping over someone’s mouth unmistakeable.

“Well, it had been a long day and we were both in need of one. Step out for me, darling,” Jaskier said, picking up the dress and hanging it back up.

“I’m sure you were,” Triss said from behind him as he zipped the dress carefully back into the garment bag. Before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she was opening the curtains and walking back outside to her entourage.

Jaskier picked up the garment bag and followed her.

“It was lovely meeting all of you,” he said, waving to the entourage. “Triss, darling, I hope you have a wonderful wedding and Geralt, it was nice seeing you again.” He turned back down the hall to go hang up the dress for Geralt to deal with later. He should get back upstairs, hopefully nothing too dire had happened in the salon during his absence, even if the break had been nice.

He was just turning to go up the stairs when he saw Geralt walking purposefully towards him, his cane clicking quickly against the floor.

“Jaskier!”

“Oh, hi again!” Jaskier said. “I was just going to head back upstairs, we are still very busy.” He gave Geralt an apologetic smile. There was nothing that he would rather do than stand and talk with Geralt.

Geralt winced. “Then I guess you probably shouldn't have helped me with the appointment.”

“No, no!” Jaskier said quickly. “It was my absolute pleasure, Geralt. And honestly? The salon was driving me a bit insane, so it was quite a nice and much needed break.”

“Well thank you for helping,” Geralt smiled. “I think it went well.”

“It definitely did, darling,” Jaskier said. “She loved the dress, just like I told you she would.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and looked down at his feet, placing both hands on top of his cane. “Actually though, I had something to ask you before you get back to work, if that’s okay. I don’t want to keep you.”

“The only thing you’re keeping me from is crying brides and disapproving mothers, and there is only so much of that that my poor soul can take,” Jaskier said. “I’d rather stay here with you and your-” he cut himself off before he made another terrible slip up. He had already learned his lesson from last time.

“With my magic hands? Or my pretty face?” Geralt asked smugly.

Jaskier sighed, ignoring him. “What was it that you wanted to ask me?”

“I have a plus one for Triss’s wedding next week,” Geralt started.

“And you haven’t asked anyone yet?” Jaskier asked. “Geralt, what have you been doing?”

“...Designing dresses?” he said sheepishly.

Jaskier swore his heart melted. He just looked so cute. How on earth was this allowed?

“Well, you better ask someone,” Jaskier said. “You’re running out of time.”

“Yes I know.” Geralt looked at Jaskier and smiled. “Jaskier, what are you doing next Saturday?”

“Saturday?” Well…” Jaskier trailed off, trying to remember what was coming up. “That is technically my day off, but I might still come in because we have just been so busy and we’re getting a new collection in and I’m going to have to….wait….” his eyes widened as he finally processed what Geralt had been asking him. “Are you….are you asking me..?”

“Would you like to be my plus one to Triss’s wedding?” Geralt asked, his golden eyes somehow sparkling in the atrocious fluorescent lighting.

“ Oh ,” Jaskier gasped. “Yes. Yes I would love to.”

“Great,” Geralt said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “I’ll pick you up at 1pm. It’s formal. Be ready.”

Oh, Jaskier would be ready alright. He walked back to a salon with a huge smile plastered across his face.

may be a ch 2. havent decided.

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#the witcher #witcher #witcher fic #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fanfic #saph scribbles

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Afterglow - Part 5

A/N: Thank you guys for the support on the last part, and your mutual hatred of Ch*d. He really is the worst...As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: None

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

We’ll always be together.

Everything will work out like it was supposed to.

We’re going to go away to California and we’ll start our new lives there.

Nothing will ever tear us apart.

We’ll get away from this town and they’ll never see us again.

I love you.

“Hello? Hello…” you were barely aware of the hand waving in front of your face as you stared out of the large window, watching the late night traffic of the city. You shook your head as you snapped back into reality and found Chad staring at you with an annoyed expression on his face. You set your fork down and pushed your plate away, having lost your appetite some time ago and growing tired of going through the motions of eating. Chad sighed heavily, grabbing the fine linen napkin off of his lap and tossing onto the table, “what’s going on with you lately, sugar plum?”

“Nothing,” you cringed at the nickname but tried to keep your face a true mask of neutrality as you pushed the memories of your youth with Frankie to the back of your mind. You don’t remember exactly when you’d zoned out during the conversation, but a teenage Frankie, one that had promised you the world as you laid in the back of his old beat up pickup and stargazed had occupied all of your thoughts. You sat back in your chair and sighed, dismissively crossing your arms over your chest, “it’s just been a long day and I’m tired…”

“You seem to be having a lot of days like that lately,” he shrugged with a sour expression as he reached for his glass of wine and drained the rest of the dark red liquid in one go. You didn’t want to fight, not again, as you seemed to be doing every day lately, but you also weren’t about to let yourself get walked all over.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed at him, flagging down a waiter and silently asking for the check.

“You’ve been spacey, you’re always claiming to be tired, forgetting appointments, and you don’t seem to want to do anything with wedding planning,” he huffed at you. You were willing to coincide that much - he was right on the money. You’d been preoccupied with thoughts of your youth, your past that you’d thought you’d buried well enough, but had let them back in. They had become all consuming...and frankly, planning a wedding you were constantly arguing about wasn’t something that seemed particularly appealing, “what’s going on with you? Are you...are you pregnant?”

You almost spit out the water you had been drinking, your mind quickly running a million miles an hour at the question. You weren’t….surely you weren’t. No, luckily you’d had your period about three weeks prior and it’d been even longer than that since you’d last sex. It wasn’t exactly a thrilling time lately. Just before you could open your mouth to say anything else and reassure him that you most definitely were not pregnant, he blathered on, “you can’t get pregnant before the wedding...you know how bad that would make us look? It’s only two more months, after that we can try and get it out of the way. But not before.”

You snorted, grabbing the little bit of wine you had left over and downed it, to prove your point that you weren’t pregnant. Get it out of the way, you could have laughed at the statement if it hadn’t been so shocking. You never thought you’d have had a child with a man who thought it was just something to get out of the way. Maybe you’d get lucky and never have a child with him...it would spare both of you.

“I’m not pregnant,” you hissed at him, “and don’t worry, at the rate we’re having sex, I’ll never get pregnant anyways.”

“You can’t,” he lowered his voice and looked around to make sure no one had heard him, “you can’t just go around saying things like that!”

“What?” you asked as the waiter came over with the check. You took it and thanked him with a smile as sweet as honey, not even bothering to check the tab as you tossed one of your cards into the sleeve and set it back down. Chad normally always insisted that he pay, stuck in his old school thought process that men should be taking care of their wives and girlfriends, not the other way around, “I shouldn’t be saying the truth?”

“I’m not going to fight about this,” he insisted sharply, his eyes filled with nothing but malice, but his outward expression suggesting he was happy and content, “look, we have a lot to do before the wedding, and after tomorrow I’m going to be gone for three weeks-”

“For work,” you finished forward, trying to read his face to see if you could detect even the slightest flicker that he hadn’t been honest with you. He was a lot of things you weren’t a fan of, but you didn’t think he would ever cheat on you. If nothing else, the fear of getting caught and having his personal life and image blow up in his face was even to deter him.

Sometimes though, as you laid next to him at night, unable to sleep, you wondered if he truly loved you, or he just liked the pretty picture you presented, and the name that you carried. You loved him, truly you had, at one point anyway, but now you were questioning if you still did. Rather, you loved him, and you never would wish him ill, he wasn’t a bad man in that sense, but were you in love with him? That was the question that you had been struggling with. You often wondered if you were just going through the motions to go through them, to mold yourself into the image that everyone had of you. Were you truly happy? You weren’t even sure anymore.

“Yes, for work,” he agreed, keeping his face calm. You often considered yourself a fair judge of character and you didn’t detect anything that suggested he was lying, “and there are a lot of things that need to be done and finalized while I’m gone for the wedding. How can I trust you to do that when you can’t even remember dinner with our families?”

“I’ve got everything in my calendar, with alarms and reminders,” you promised, “it’ll all be taken care of.”

“Including your dress fitting,” he reminded you, “that’s the most important thing. We can’t have you going down the aisle in an ill fitting dress.”

“It will all be done and taken care of,” you promised quietly, “there’s nothing to worry about. Whatever’s going on with me, I’ll pull myself out of it.”

“Good,” he responded, offering you the first smile you had seen that evening, “I just want everything to be perfect on our day.”

“Of course,” you signed the receipt that was dropped off, making sure to leave a generous tip, before sliding your card back in your purse. Chad stood up and waited for you, and the smallest bit of joy that had been sparked always started to disappear already. Autopilot was on and you were once again going through the motions.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“When’s the big day? You are going to make the most stunning bride,” the young girl that was assisting your dressmaker was looking at you with the softest, most awed expression you had ever seen. You couldn’t help but smile at her, remembering that when you were young you had always dreamed of a day like this. You turned back and studied your reflection in the large, golden and gilded mirror, admiring the dress. It was a beautiful gown, made just for you, of course, as no one would ever let you forget if you wore a predesigned stock dress.

“About two months,” you said softly, watching as Imelda, the woman who had dreamed up the dress from scratch after first meeting you, came back with a veil. The veil itself was just as gorgeous as the dress, also created by hand, stitch by grueling stitch. You stepped down from the small pedestal and let her place it on the crown of your head as you blended magnificently with the dress.

“A fall wedding,” she sighed dreamily, “if I ever meet the one and get married, that’s what I’d want too. I think it’s the perfect time of the year, and so romantic.”

“It’s...it’s something,” you found yourself at a loss for words as you turned back to your reflection, finding the look complete with the headpiece. Every single inch was stunning, highlighting all your favorite parts of yourself. It was a dress borne of love, and made you look more like a princess than a woman who wasn’t even sure anymore if she wanted to get married. Every day that had passed since Chad had left for his work trip about two weeks ago had been agonizing as you tried to figure out what you really wanted. Did you really want to get married to him?

“I bet it will be so magical,” the young girl sighed wistfully. It took you back for a moment how much she reminded you of yourself, “how did your fiancé propose? Your ring is gorgeous too. I bet you’re both so beautiful together!”

"He's a very handsome man," you admitted, knowing that most women would fall to their knees for a chance at a man like Chad. He wasn't the type that you had been drawn to when you were younger, but he was still easy on the eyes. He had that soft, typical all American boy sort of look to him, tall, lithe with the blonde hair and blue eyes that women often found so dreamy. It just wasn't...what you had envisioned when you were younger, "and smart, he's an attorney, and just...yeah. A good man."

For the right person he might even have been perfect. You wondered how things would be different if you were the perfect match for him.

"You'll have gorgeous babies," the girl brought forth a tray of jewelry for you to examine and pick through to find the perfect match for your dress. Imelda softly tutted at the girl, suggesting a pair of brilliant diamond earrings for you to try.

"Maybe," you decided to dodge that bullet and grabbed the studs, popping them into your ears to see how they went with the dress and veil.

"But the proposal - what was it like? I bet it was so dreamy..."

"It was simple," you admitted. It was simple compared to others you had witnessed, but still more over the top than you had needed or had desired. He'd waited until you were at an outing that you swore consisted of everyone you had ever known. There was no doubt in your mind that he had done it to make himself look good and show off the huge ring that now sat on your hand. It was almost too big for your taste and you'd often thought about trying to get something more subtle. But you hadn't wanted to argue over it, so you just accepted it, "it was at a dinner with our family and friends. A little lowkey, but he did it over champagne and dessert."

"That's perfect," she sighed wistfully, "I hope that if I ever get engaged, my future girlfriend does something like that, or I can do if for her."

"I hope you too," you promised her with a fond smile, "you deserve the world too and the engagement and wedding you dream of."

"Hopefully I'll look as pretty as you," she smooth parts of your dress down as she looked you over, "hopefully Auntie Imelly will make me a dress just as pretty."

"You already know I've got everything planned for you," Imelda promised her niece, "you just have to wait until you find the perfect girl and the time is right. I want nothing but the best for you, and I won't see settling for just anyone."

"Never," the girl nodded at her aunt.

"But now," she turned back to you and held out a stunning tennis bracelet, "what about you? Do you like everything or should we make any more changes to the veil or dress?"

You took a long while to study the woman staring back at you in the mirror. She was beautiful, that much was easy to see, dressed in the most stunning wedding gown and jewelry. Everything about her was breathing taking, but there wasn't even a trace of a smile on her face, no light or life in her eyes.

"No," you whispered softly, running your fingers gently over the delicate lace of your the veil. You knew it must have taken Imelda hours and hours of hard work and care to make perfect it, "everything is stunning. This is...it's beautiful, every last stitch. Its an honor to be wearing this dress right now."

"Perfect," she beamed at you, "then we'll get it all put and stored safely until your big day. I'll of course bring it to that morning and make sure its perfect for you."

"But I can't...I can't take it," you said and the room grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop, "I can't accept this beautiful dress, this veil, any of it."

"What do you mean? I created this just for you..."

"I know," you said as you stated to peel off the jewelry and placed it show back in the soft, velvet case, "and I will pay you double what you originally quoted for it. I want you to keep it and give it to someone you deem worthy. Someone that desires to wear something so beautiful, someone that is marrying the love of their lives. I'll even pay for any future alterations, but I can't...I can't do this."

"What do you mean?" Imelda's face wen through a range of various emotions as she hastily helped you to pull off the veil.

"I can't get married," you stated, finally saying out loud the words that had been plaguing you for some time now. You couldn't do it. You weren't going to subject yourself to a marriage you didn't want with a man who wasn't the love of your life, "I'm not going through with this. I can't...no. I'll never be happy with if I do."

The young girl brought your clothes back for you as you started to strip off the dress, not caring in the slightest about any propriety anymore.

"Listen, sweet girl," you told her as she pulled the dress off of you, almost buckling under the sheer weight of it until you helped her, "never ever settle for anyone. Wait until the right person comes along...maybe it'll take ages, but you'll be happier. Don't make the mistake I almost did."

You pulled on your jeans and t-shirt, casual clothes that Chad would likely have abhorred, and turned back to Imelda, "I am so, so sorry to do this to you. All the hard work and time..."

"I'm just glad you kept yourself from making a huge mistake," she whispered as she pulled you into a hug, "that's the important thing of all. The dress will find the right home, and one day your heart will as well."

"Thank you," you said softly, feeling the wave of emotions that you'd been suppressing for so long wash over you. For a therapist, one who told her patients to express themselves however they needed to, you'd grown too comfortable with settling and being content, but not truly happy. Something was bound to break at some point and this just happened to be the straw they broke the camel's back.

"Thank you," you brushed away a few tears, finding more comfort in her touch and kind words than you had in anyone else in a long time, "truly, thank you. And please, send me the bill. Whatever you want, I'll pay it."

"Of course," she gently wiped your tears away, her niece giving you a small wave as you turned to leave the shop.

As soon as you stepped foot into the busy street, reality came crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. This was going to change everything, emotions would be all over the place, and dealing with two controlling families would be an ordeal within itself. But regardless, you felt lighter and happier than you had in a long, long time. Nothing else mattered right now. The only thing you were focused on was the little bit of light that had crawled back into your heart. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but you knew it was the best one - the right one. It had been a long, long time since you'd been able to say that about anything...

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, you threw off your coat, snatched your phone out of your purse and tossed it onto the floor. Quickly searching for Chad's contact, you paused for just a moment to let out a long breath before dialing his number.

You stormed into the bedroom and ducked into the closet, pulling out a suitcase while you listening and anticipated him picking up any moment. Your heart was beating like mad, threatening to burst out of your ribcage as you hastily tossed whatever clothes you into the large suitcase. It was a haphazard disaster, but you didn't care.

"Hello?" He finally answered after several long rings, sounding somewhere between surprised and annoyed, "what's wrong sugar plum?"

"I'm leaving," you blurted out before you could think about how to word anything or form a coherent sentence.

"What? Leaving where? What are you talking about?" he hissed under his breath, as you heard him walk to the door, shut it and work it, "what's going on?"

"I'm leaving you," you finished throwing the clothes that were easily accessible and jammed into the bathroom to grab your things from there, "I can't do this. I'm not marrying you, Chad. We're over."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he must have heard you frantically scurrying around, as his voice had a shake to it, "what on earth are you talking about? You're not thinking clearly!"

"No," you said firmly, "I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time. This has been something that I've been thinking about for a long time. Chad, you and I...we're not meant to be."

"You were supposed to finalize your wedding dress today," he hissed under his breath, clearly not realizing what you had said. Or if he had, he has pointedly chosen to ignore everything you were saying. Typical. And one of the prime reasons you were ready to be done with him and move on. You could couldn't imagine a lifetime of this - you'd never be happy again. You held the phone away from your ear for a moment and let out a long groan, "have you been drinking?"

"What?!" a look of annoyed disgust your features as you rolled your eyes at him, "no, of course I haven't. This is exactly what I mean, Chad. You just get so like...this and I'm tired of dealing with it. Are you even happy?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm happy," he huffed. Of course it didn't...that’s exactly why your relationship had been doomed for a long time. Status, money, image was everything to him. That had never been your wants and goals life - that was how you'd always been different from your family. You just wanted to be happy, nothing else mattered. That's why you had dreamed of moving to California and starting a life there with Frankie, "that's not what this is about."

"Of course it is," you insisted softly, "that's what...that's what matters in life, Chad. Life isn't about money and status and what others think of you. Its about being happy, love, being kind..."

"What are you on about? What kind of delusions have been put into your head?" his words were cruel and you couldn't deny the fact that they stung. This was everything you had rebelled against when you were younger, everything you never wanted to he. But here you were...someone you couldn't even stand, "your parents wouldn't stand to hear you talk like this."

"Yeah," you agreed quietly, "that's exactly why I need to do this. I never wanted to be like them...I don't want to be anything like this. I don't care about it. I just want to be with someone I love and to be happy."

"You're setting yourself up for failure-"

"Maybe so," you agreed quietly, "but that's a risk I'm willing to take. It's better to try than just to accept a life without happiness."

"Look," he sighed, deep, weary sound, and you could just picture him sitting there in frustration, "we can talk about all of this when I get back. Its a few more days...maybe you'll be thinking more clearly by then. Just make sure get your dress and have everything figured out. We can't afford to get behind."

"No," it was a firm, resolute statement. Part of you was shocked that he wasn't understanding or getting into his thick skull that you were being serious. Then again, part of you was not surprised.

"No?"

"You don't get it, Chad," you cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder before pulling off your over the top engagement ring and slamming it on the dresser, "when you come back, I won't be here. I'm not kidding, this isn't some sort of game. I'm done - we are done. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."

"You can't just leave!" a little bit of panic had crept into his voice as he slowly came to the realization that you were serious - dead serious, "what are you going to do? Where will you go?"

"I can just leave and I will," you insisted, "this has been over for some time, Chad. We both know it. I'm taking my things and leaving everything else. The ring is on the dresser. The apartment is yours anyway, keep it. Keep it all. I don't want a thing. I’ll figure the rest out on my own.”

“If you walk out that door and if you’re not there when I get back, this is over forever,” it almost sounded like he was trying to give you an ultimatum, but it just caused you to laugh lightly. Everything about this situation was life changing - you were breaking away from your life’s charted trajectory, but it felt like the right thing to do. The girl you were when you were growing up would have when horrified to see what you had become. But she was slowly clawing her way out and coming back to life, just how she should have been, how she should have always been.

“That’s the plan, Chad,” you sighed softly. You weren’t sure if he was ever going to get, or if he would only understand when he realized that you weren’t there. Maybe he had to experience the full reality of everything before he accepted it. You sat down on the edge of the bed, realizing that this was the last time you’d ever be here, “look, I’m sorry for not doing this sooner or expressing how I felt. I-I’ve tried but you always shut me down. I know this changes everything for both of us, but it’s the right thing to do. You’re not a bad man, Chad, but you’re just not the one for me. I don’t wish you anything but happiness, truly, but it’s just not with me.”

“People will talk, no one will ever have you back-”

“Yeah, and I’m okay with that,” you admitted, “those people? They never cared about me, none of them care about anything but themselves. I’m okay without them in my life. The people that matter will stay and they won’t care.”

“Sugar plum-”

“Don’t,” you cringed at the nickname, “don’t call me that, I hate it. I’ve always told you I hate it...and yet you never listened. I should have known, I should have tried harder to let you know. We should have talked more - you should have listened and I should have tried harder. This mess could have been avoided a long time ago.”

“You’re a therapist and couldn’t figure this out,” he scoffed and you could tell he was trying to go for a low blow. He was mad so he was going to try and fight dirty, “must not be a very good one then. What do they even pay you for?”

“I didn’t think you’d resort to saying something like that,” you stood back up and finished stuffing things into your suitcase, making up your mind to try and leave as quickly as possible, “but you know, I am good at my job and I try and help people. Just because I don’t always take my own advice, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. See, that’s why we would have never worked out - you’re so quick to anger and we’re never once had a rational discussion when you get like this. I mean, this wedding, everything that’s when going on has been for you and what you think people want. I’m not...I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t who I am, it never used to be. I need to be the person I truly am again.”

“You are making a huge mistake,” his declaration was enough to make you laugh as he desperately tried to do anything to make you feel small and to stay. If you believed that you needed him maybe you would stay. The sad thing was that he wasn’t even so concerned about you, or the fact that he loved you, it was all about how this would look to other people. Pathetic.

“No,” you disagreed, “and even if I was, I guess I’ll learn my lesson the hard way. I’m okay with that. Listen...I’ll take care of cancelling everything for the wedding and telling my parents. You can tell everyone else, blame me, make yourself look good. I’ll have all the money refunded to you, I don’t care about it, I just don’t.”

“You’re really doing this, huh?” he laughed; it was a bitter, stunted sound. You finished throwing your clothes and few items from the bathroom into the suitcase and were in the process of zipping it shut. You already felt so much freer, so much lighter.

“I am,” you acknowledged, grabbing your things and heading for the door, “this is goodbye, Chad. If it means anything at all, I am sorry for how this came about, but I’m not sorry for doing it. This is the right thing to do….even if it doesn’t feel like it now. In the future you’ll realize it too.”

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you, and just when you thought he was going to say something, the sound cut out and the call ended. You groaned lightly as pulled the phone away from your ear, tapping the corner of it against your head a few times. After all this time, this was how things were going to end? You knew he’d be mad, but you didn’t think it would be like this…

Figuring that while you were already in the middle of dealing with everything and that lovely response you had might as well call your parents and get that over with at the same time. How much else could go wrong? If you were going to be disowned, than you might as well find out now. Scrolling through your contacts, you quickly found your parent’s house number, dialing and quietly wishing that neither of them would answer. Maybe they would be too busy running around -

“Hello?” your mother sounded cheerful as ever, and while you didn’t always see eye to eye with her on everything, you still cared deeply about her. You considered hanging up, but decided against it, figuring it was time to get this done and over with.

“Hi Mom,” you said softly as she grew excited to hear from you. She startled rattling on, not even letting you get a word in edgewise as she went on and on about your wedding, “Mom, stop.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suddenly, taken aback by your little sharp comment, “this is your wedding we’re talking about it, honey, it’s going to be here before you know it.”

“That’s the thing...that’s why I’m calling-”

“You got your dress finalized today, right? I can’t wait to see it, I know you wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, but I wished I could have been there…” you could tell she was getting emotional, but it caused a light pang in your heart. It was never going to change your mind, of course, but still gave you a moment of pause, “tell me, honey, do you love the dress?”

“There’s no...no dress,” your voice was soft as a gasp came from the other end, “because there’s not going to be a wedding.”

“W-what?” she asked, fumbling on some words as she tried to wrap her head around what you were saying. No wedding? Surely you must have been pulling her leg. Your wedding was the talk of the town, everyone knew about it…”what do you mean there’s not going to be a wedding? Of course there...it’s in two months…”

“No,” you repeated again, “there’s not. It’s not happening. I told Chad, I’m leaving, I can’t go through with this. I don’t love him, Mom, not like that. I cannot marry a man that I do not love.”

“You already told him? You’re going to call this whole thing off?” she was getting hysterical and you immediately regretted telling her. Well...she was going to find out one way or another...at least this way she was getting it directly from you, “just like that? What’s going on with you?”

“Yes, just like that...but honestly, it’s been a long time coming,” you dragged your suitcases to the door and took one last look around the place, giving it one last look over, “it’s...I wasn’t happy, not for a long time. And it’s my fault for not dealing with it sooner, but I couldn’t go through with this. I’m not going to subject myself and him for a life of unhappiness.”

“But what about-”

“None of that matters,” you promised, “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I just want to be happy and if I ever marry anyone, I want to be in love. Maybe that will never happen, but that’s better than a lifetime of going through the motions.”

“But Chad is...he’s perfect…” rolling your eyes, you tossed your eyes onto the counter and took off the apartment keys, laying them on the table for Chad, “the two of you…”

“Look great together? Would have 2.5 wonderful looking children? A dog with a big house and white picket fence?” you finished for her, “I know that’s what everyone says and thinks. But it’s so much more than that. Chad is not a bad man, and I know that, he’s good and he’ll be great for the right person, that person just isn’t me. I don’t care about anything else...I want to be happy, and right now, I know it will hurt him, but eventually he’ll be happy too.”

“Are you sure about this?” she sounded resigned already, knowing that it wasn’t worth it to argue with you. You always had a stubborn streak when you were young, and that had never changed.

“I am, Mom. I just...I want to be happy, truly happy, and if I had gone through with everything, it would never have happened,” you explained, “isn’t that important too? Does my happiness mean so little to everyone?”

“Your happiness is important, sweetheart,” she said softly. You could tell this was crushing her spirits and that no less than a million things were running through her mind, she always was the analytical type, stemming from her many years as an attorney. But at least she was trying; trying to understand your thoughts and respect them, even if it was hard for her, “are you positive that this is what you want?”

“I am,” you felt sure and confident in yourself as you headed for the door, propping it open and dragging your suitcases into the hallway, “this is the thing I’ve been more sure about lately than anything else.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “then that’s what matters. You do deserve happiness, my love. What are you going to do now?”

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” you admitted, “I’ll figure that out as I go...which I guess is now.”

“Your father and I are here if you need us,” she promised, surprising in a way because you were sure that you would be subjected to her wrath, “we do love you, you know, despite how it may seem sometimes.”

“I know, “ you closed the door slowly, listening to it shut with a soft click, bringing about a bit of finality to the life you were leaving behind, “I appreciate that. Right now, I just need to figure a few things out.”

“Call us if you need anything,” she insisted, and you took a deep breath before nodding.

“I will,” you promised softly, ending the call and tossing your phone into your pocket. At least that was done. Now you just had to figure everything else out.

Everything else suddenly seemed unbelievably daunting. You’d gone through periods before where everything you had known fell completely apart. You’d gotten through it then and you would again.

You had been broken and forced to pick up each tiny piece of yourself before. You’d do again and again and again if you had to. At least this gave you a chance at happiness.

This was just the first page of a new chapter. You can do this, you kept repeating to yourself as you started to walk away, you can do this.

On the outskirts of town, in the small, quaint house he called home, Frankie startled awake, out of his midafternoon nap. He looked around to see what the cause for the sudden wake up was, but could find nothing. He sighed as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes, his heart panging with an odd, pulling sensation.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was...but it was something.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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sturchling · 4 years

Text

Liars in Crime

So, this is based of a prompt from @chocolate1721

One day, Marinette is on a video call with Damian when she leaves to help with the bakery. He soon gets another call from Marinette, but instead he sees two girls destroying Marinette’s work. What will happen next?

Hope you guys like it!

Marinette didn’t know it yet, but this would be the day that the Lila problem was solved. And it would be all thanks to her friend Damian. Marinette and Damian were on FaceTime that afternoon. Marinette and Damian had been pen pals for a while by this time. They were originally paired up for a class project, but they had actually become very close friends. They eventually switched to email, which then became texting, and now they FaceTime almost every day. Sometimes, they don’t even talk while on FaceTime and instead work on individual projects and just enjoy the other’s company. This particular day, Damian was working on some homework, while Marinette worked on some new commissions. Jagged and Penny had asked for Marinette to make their outfits for the Wayne Gala that was in a few weeks. Damian and his family had also commissioned some new suits from the young designer, which she had completed and sent to them the day before. Marinette had just finished Jagged’s suit and just had to finish Penny’s dress.

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While the two worked, they chatted about their days. Well, Marinette was venting more than chatting. She had been dealing with the Lila Variety Show all day, and it had been a particularly rough day. Apparently, Lila had told Alya that Marinette had spent the night sending her nasty messages. This caused the whole class to glare at Marinette all day and call her a bunch of horrible names. A few had even tripped Marinette as she left the class that afternoon. The only ones who hadn’t been attacking her were Alix and Nathaniel. Adrien hadn’t attacked her, but he certainly didn’t have her back like he claimed to when this whole Lila mess started. Most days now, Damien heard all about Lila’s daily lying. He had grown to hate this girl without ever meeting her. The entire Wayne family hated this girl after hearing what she had been doing to Mari. They all wished there was something they could do, but Marinette refused their offer of legal assistance and it is not like Batman could deal with such a small problem that wasn’t even happening in Gotham. There was one good thing that came of all this, Batman had finally heard about what had been happening in Paris. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t heard of Hawkmoth before this, but now he was working with the local heroes remotely, so as not to risk being akumatized himself. Somehow, during all this time, neither Marinette or Bruce had figured out the other’s identity.

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After they had been on FaceTime for about an hour, Marinette was called downstairs by Sabine. They needed help with a particularly busy rush. So, Marinette ended the call, saying that she would call back later. Little did the pair of friends knew, but trouble was brewing across the street, at the school. Alya and Lila were talking in the classroom. Lila was upset because Marinette had continued to send her mean texts, and had even started sending threatening texts. Alya was furious. How dare Marinette threaten her best friend!? Alya knew the young designer had changed a lot, but she never thought Marinette would sink so low. Alya wanted to teach Marinette a lesson. But Lila was too sweet. “No, Alya. I don’t want to hurt Marinette. Its fine, they are just words.” Alya didn’t understand how Lila could be so forgiving. “It is not fine Lila. She had been threatening you and needs to be stopped. What if we don’t hurt her, but just mess with her current designs a bit. She has been more obsessive about them than usual lately, so messing with them should teach her a lesson.” Lila hid her face so Alya wouldn’t see her smirking. “If you think that would work Alya. But won’t Marinette be upset?” Alya loved how thoughtful her friend was. “It may upset her, but she deserves it. She has been upsetting you.” With that, the two girls walked over to the bakery. They snuck in through the door to the apartment, right behind the Dupain-Cheng family who were all in the bakery. The girls entered Marinette’s room and began destroying everything they could find. But Lila made a major mistake. When she grabbed a sketchbook from Marinette’s desk, she knocked the mouse and accidently clicked on the call button on FaceTime. That one mistake put Lila’s downfall in motion.

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Damian continued with his homework, not expecting to hear back from Marinette for some time. But about 15 minutes later, Damian got a notification that Marinette was trying to call him. He just assumed that she had finished in the bakery quicker than expected. He accepted the call, but instead of his friend, he saw two girls destroying everything in the room. He quickly started screen recording, so he had evidence of what the two girls were doing. He didn’t know how these two were so dull, that they hadn’t noticed him on the screen. Damian recognized these two girls from Marinette’s descriptions of her class. This must be Alya and Lila, the liar making his friend miserable. Damian texted Marinette about the two girls in her room and how they were destroying her designs. The two had already ripped up the pages from Marinette’s sketchbook, and were now Lila trying to destroy the dress Marinette was working on for Penny while Alya cut up the suit meant for Jagged. Damian was furious and decided to try and get the girl’s attention before they did too much damage to the clothes. Damian cleared his throat and watched as the two girls froze.

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Alya and Lila had been cutting up the two outfits on the mannequins when they heard someone clear their throat. Both girls froze, wondering who could be in there. They had seen Marinette and her parents in the bakery. There shouldn’t be anyone else. They wildly looked all over the room trying to see the source of the noise. They almost thought they had imagined the noise when they heard “I’m on the computer you incompetent cretins!” Damian couldn’t believe how pathetically dull these two were. Alya and Lila whipped around to stare at the screen, and they saw a boy about their age with black hair and green eyes just glaring at them. Lila was terrified. If he said anything, everything Lila had built would be destroyed. They could go to jail, and Lila couldn’t become famous from jail. So, Lila put on her best pouty face while also trying to look flirty, and she sauntered up to the computer. “Oh, hello there. We are friends of Marinette’s from class. She told us we could borrow her notes from class, but she forgot to give them to us. She told us to come up and-” Before the liar could finish her newest tall tale, the door to the room burst open. Standing at the trap door was Marinette and Sabine, and they were furious! Marinette stared at Alya, who was holding a pair of scissors in one hand and the suit for Jagged in the other. “WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Marinette rushed to Alya and grabbed the suit from Alya. Thankfully, she hadn’t managed to do much damage to the suit yet, but Penny’s dress was a different story. The dress was nothing more than scraps now. Marinette saw red and began yelling at Alya, who started yelling right back.

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In all the chaos, Lila tried to slip out the door, but the way was blocked by Sabine. “Oh no you don’t young lady. You two are staying right here until the police arrive.” Lila was terrified, she wanted to get out, but Sabine was standing on the only door out of the room. Alya at this point, was concerned. Her parents would kill her if the police were called. Alya tried reasoning with Sabine, “Wait Mrs. Cheng! We only did this because Marinette has been bullying and threatening Lila-” Sabine only got more angry replying, “Be quiet young lady! Even if that were true, that is no reason to break in and destroy my daughter’s property. You two have committed some serious crimes today! Did you two know breaking and entering is a felony? You are in major trouble!” Alya and Lila kept trying to appeal to Sabine, but nothing worked to convince her not to call the police.

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While, Sabine called the police to report the break in, Damian watched in silence. He was furious. How dare these two break in and mess with Marinette’s hard work. After a few minutes of Sabine and Marinette yelling, the rest of Damian’s family filtered into the room having heard the commotion. At first, they thought something was wrong with Damian, but then they saw what was happening on the screen. A short explanation from Damian, and the rest of the Wayne family was just as furious as Damian. Bruce was almost shaking with rage. Jason was muttering about going to Paris and teaching these two a lesson. Even Alfred wasn’t calm anymore, he was glaring at the screen and roughly twisting the feather duster in his hands. The Wayne family watched as Marinette and her mom kept the two vandals in the room until the authorities arrived. The police arrived shortly after and took the two girls to the patrol car, so they could be taken to the station. The officers then returned to the bedroom and began gathering evidence. They took pictures of the damage and then took a statement from Damian. After Damian gave his statement, he sent the police the video he had recorded of the two girls destroying the clothes and designs.

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While the police gathered evidence, Alya and Lila waited in the car. Lila was furious. How did things go so wrong? She was supposed to be laughing with Alya about the revenge against Marinette. She wasn’t supposed to be in handcuffs in the back of a police car. Alya turned to her and said, “Don’t worry Lila, once we explain everything, they will let us go.” Lila could not believe how dumb this girl was. Even if she had been telling the truth, that wouldn’t get them out of a felony charge. “Alya, even if the police believe us about Marinette, we would still be in a lot of trouble. Our best bet is to lie. Stick to the story I was telling Damian, we just went up to get notes. The stuff was already destroyed when we got there.” Alya wasn’t sure about that. Lying didn’t sit well with her. “But what about Mrs. Cheng? We already told her the real reason.” Lila was quick to respond, “Well, it will be our word against hers. We will just hope the police believe us.” Alya was still worried, but agreed to Lila’s plan. They worked out the exact details for their story, and by the time the police came back, they felt confident they would get away with it.

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When they arrived to the station, the two girls were placed in separate interview rooms, to wait until their parents arrived. Once their families arrived, the police informed them of the serious charges placed against them, and that the Dupain-Cheng family was pressing charges. The two families were horrified! Their daughters had committed two crimes in one day, including a felony. They were looking at some serious trouble, they could even end up in a juvenile detention center. That was even more likely, since they had also committed destruction of property while they were there and had damaged Marinette’s custom designs, which were worth a fair bit of money. Mrs. Rossi knew that her daughter could be looking at up to 3 years in a detention center. She was shocked her daughter would do something like this. The officers asked for permission to speak with their daughters and the families agreed, so long as they could watch from the other side of the glass. The police agreed to the request, and the interview began.

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Both girls stuck to the story they agreed on. Now matter how many times the police asked, the girls continued to say they had been invited in and were only there to get notes, and they had no idea how the clothes had been damaged. The officers interviewing the girls were shocked at the ease with which the girls lied. The officers realized they needed to stop, and try something else. They left the room and the families started asking if they were cleared. “They said they were only there for the notes.” “They wouldn’t have done this.” “They wouldn’t lie to the police.” The police realized they needed to show the parents the video, so they pulled out a tablet and played the video for the family. As the video went on, the families grew paler as they watched Alya and Lila destroy the sketchbook and outfits. At the moment, Lila and Alya were back in the little holding cell, sitting on the bench. They were just chatting and laughing. The two families couldn’t believe how relaxed the two were. They weren’t guilty at all! Nora became enraged. How could these two be so calm?! Didn’t they realize how much trouble they were in?! Nora grabbed the tablet and stormed over to the two girls. Nora pressed play and watched as Alya and Lila grew pale as the video went on.

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Lila didn’t think there was any video of what they had done. How was she to know they had been recorded? Then, she realized by the camera angle, this was recorded from the computer. That brat on FaceTime must have recorded everything. The video clearly showed her and Alya ripping up the sketchbook pages and cutting up the two outfits. Lila and Alya began to realize they were in major trouble. Their story they told the police was obviously false and there was video to prove they were guilty. Alya started freaking out and yelling, “Wait! The only reason we did that was because of Marinette. She has been bullying and threatening Lila for days now! We just wanted to teach her a little lesson, its not like we hurt anyone!” Alya’s family stared at her in disbelief. How could she believe that Marinette would do that? Lila knew that it was a long shot, but it was her only chance. So, she turned on the water works and spun her story about how Marinette was threatening her by text for days. One of the officers walked up and said, “OK, then we need to see your phone.” Lila stilled at that and replied, “What?! Why?” The officer looked at her dubiously, like he already knew she was lying, “Because, if what your saying is true, then it may help your case. But you need proof. Luckily, texts stay on the phone and we can track the number.” Lila hadn’t thought about that. The class never asked for proof, so she hadn’t bothered to fake any. Alya turned to her and said, “Go on girl, show them the texts.” Lila didn’t know what to do. She handed her phone to the officer, hopping he would go to the other room to look at it, but he stayed right there and looked through all her messages. Eventually, after a tense minute, he looked up and said, “There are no texts threatening texts here at all. Alya turned and stared at Lila. That couldn’t be right, that would mean that Lila had lied to her. Lila wouldn’t do that. They were friends, right?

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Eventually, the truth came out. Everyone found out that Lila had been lying the whole time and had tricked the whole class. Just because she had been tricked, did not get Alya completely out of trouble. It did help her case however. The judge let Alya off with 100 hours community service and telling her she had to pay restitution to Marinette for the damaged clothes and book. Alya wasn’t necessarily happy, but she was grateful not to be going to juvie. Lila was not so lucky. After it was revealed that she was the mastermind behind everything, and how she had harassed Marinette, she was sentenced to 12 months in a juvenile detention center 10 miles outside of Paris, to hopefully avoid her being akumatized. Lila would also be on probation when she was released. After everything that had happened, Marinette decided to switch schools to a nearby art school. She did end up repairing the outfits for Jagged and Penny in time for the gala. She was very thankful that Damian had been there that day, and had recorded everything. He had solved the liar problem for her, from all the way in Gotham. Time went by, and Marinette got over the events that had happened in Mrs. Bustier’s class. Marinette was excited for what the future would bring, now that the liar was gone from her life.

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