#dude i remember watching this in school and it felt illegal to be watching for school
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Yeah I can imagine. I have a slightly different experience in that it wasn't a kink thing, but one of my friends from high school lost her mother, sister, sister's fiance, and baby niece due to her mother's abusive boyfriend acting as a family annihilator. My friend survived purely bc she'd locked her bedroom door to take a nap.
I remember being at the funeral to support her and the local police showed and even the mayor I think(?). And then learning from whispers that extended family was furious because the abuser had choked her mother once, if not twice before (resulting in 911 calls), and people felt the police had basically done nothing and that 4 homicides could've been prevented. (This dude was also on an FBI watch list so like....it wasn't as if he wasn't known to law enforcement for being a potential danger to others).
And that's when I learned that strangulation in a DV situation is such a high risk indicator for escalation to homicide.
I understand people may genuinely enjoy the actual practice of consensual and extremely high risk (fatal) kink and that wouldn't necessarily be abusive but like you said, it's extremely likely that if someone ends up accidentally dead as a result of a breathplay scene the other person is going to jail for homicide because strangulation is illegal and your average person is not going to see it as just a small kink accident.
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Wreck My Plans.
Mob!Bucky x Reader AU
Run-through: Taking time off work, you come back to your hometown for the holiday season, and you decide to go clubbing with a few friends. There, in the middle of the dark, loud room your eyes meet with a pair of familiar blue ones. Ones which you never thought you’d see again after so many years. There he was, your ex-boyfriend; Bucky Barnes.
Themes: mob!bucky, smut, fluff,
a/n: i missed my Sin Army. Happy evermore day. And to my Marvel fam, how we doin’ after those trailers?!
Time stopped.
One minute the music was deafening and the next, you couldn’t even hear it. All you could focus on was your current, erratic heartbeat as you stared into a pair of stormy, blue eyes. They looked darker and much more mesmerizing than you remember.
His name echoed in your head as a smile formed on your face. Bucky.
The smile on his face mimicked yours as he walked over to you at the bar, crossing the ocean of drunk people swaying to the music. Amongst the crowd he crossed, were some of your friends who ditched you just minutes ago to go have fun with a pair of dudes they met just upon entering the club.
You could join them, but rubbing your body against a stranger’s sweaty body was not what you intended to do tonight so you stayed back at the bar.
Good thing you did so, else you wouldn’t have noticed Bucky on the other side of the room.
You smiled a little brighter once he stood in front of you. Very, very well dressed in his dark suit.
“Is it really you?” he spoke, teasing you right away. Just like he used to.
You smiled and rolled your eyes at him, mainly to hide your nervousness as you realized how much deeper his voice had gotten. Or how much more attractive he was. He had always been a hottie, now even more so. Muscular and tall, even with the suit on you could tell he had a body to die for.
You and Bucky broke up right after graduating high school. You moved for uni while he stayed behind and joined his family business. It wasn’t a messy break up, just two 18-year-olds deciding to end a relationship and focus on their futures.
You finished college a few years later then moved again, for your dream job. And now, almost 7 years later, you were back in your hometown for the holidays for the first time in a long time.
“It is. How have you been, Buck?”
He smiled and took the seat right beside you. “Great.” he wasn’t lying. “You?”
You let out a little laugh. “Are we seriously gonna do the whole work and the weather thing?” you asked, and he laughed.
Oh how you had missed his laugh. It’s been years since you saw him, but everything about him was so familiar it hurt. The way his eyes closed when he smiled or laughed too hard. The blue in his eyes, the crinkles by them. The perfect shape of his nose which you always teased him for.
Everything about him reminded you of a simpler, happier time of your life.
He stared into your eyes for a few seconds, then smiled in nostalgia. “You’re just as pretty.”
You rolled your eyes again, casually ignoring the sparks which flew in between you two.
“Oh please. Enough about me, what about you? You’re quite the talk of the town I heard.” It was true, they were saying all sorts of things about him ever since you came home. No one knew where he lived, whether he was in town currently or no - he was, you just confirmed it a few minutes ago.
“Yeah? What have you heard so far?” he spoke with a smirk on. Words didn’t affect him anymore.
You raised an eyebrow. “So the rumors are true?”
He chuckled, and signaled the bartender to bring him a drink. You watched each of his actions cautiously. Everything about him screamed power. His stance, his movements, his poise. You had heard around that his dad’s business was doing poorly years ago and he turned to some shady stuff. And he dragged his son along. Something about mob, gangs and illegal stuff. You had trouble believing it at first, because you knew him. You knew Bucky and you couldn’t imagine someone as gentle as him being associated with this side of life.
But the smirk he gave you proved all those rumors and theories to be true.
“Oh,” you wondered why you didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid. “Well, it suits you.” You scanned him quickly and wondered where you got the confidence to do that.
You were right, it did suit him. The power, the mean yet magnetic demeanor, the way he could get absolutely everyone to stare at him in awe and fear - truly, it did suit him.
He smiled and took a sip of his drink, then placed his glass down. “You should be running for the hills, not complimenting me. Is that what your strict, conservative father taught you?” The last part was an inside joke so he couldn’t hide his smile.
You shook your head. Bucky and your dad never gelled well. Ever. “Leave dad out of this, he still hates you by the way.” your words made him chuckle at some memories. “So now what, you have gangs and guns and stuff?” you asked.
“Yeah I’m kind of the bad guy around here.”
You laughed. He stared at you in complete awe and he couldn’t help but smile. He felt it too, the pull or sparks or whatever it was that was preventing him from looking away. Like as though something had tied him to you and he couldn’t get away and he definitely didn’t want to.
“You’re here with someone?” he asked, looking around and hoping you’d say no because he hated the thought of you being here with another man. Which was weird because he was meeting you for the first time in years, yet he was already feeling so protective.
And that skin-tight coral dress you were wearing wasn’t helping either.
“With some girl friends,” you replied and he quietly let out a sigh of relief, “But it seems they’re nowhere to be found.” You looked around and couldn’t see them. They were wild party animals anyways.
Bucky smiled and got up from his seat, extending his arm out for you to take. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”
You took the last sip of your wine and took his hand. You let him guide you to the back of the club. “You know the owners?” you asked, seeing he was so comfortable in the space. He chuckled.
“I am the owner, doll.” he answered in that cocky, velvety voice of his. And that nickname, that damn nickname brought back so many memories; they came flooding back in like it was no one’s business.
The first time he kissed you. Prom. That road trip you took together. All the ones you planned but couldn’t take. All the times you snuck out of the house to hang out at his place. The one time you got caught and how your dad almost lost his shit completely. The time you had your biggest fight and didn’t talk for two whole days. How he apologized first for that one.
You remembered everything.
He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his slick, black car. He was quiet when he got into the driver’s seat. But the silence was comfortable, like the kind you have around your closest friends and family; where you’re just happy with sharing space and air, just knowing the other is here and not having the need to fill the silence with useless talks. The kind of silence which spoke louder than words ever could. Comforting, and warm.
He pulled into the entrance of a private property and your eyes widened for a brief moment. “You live here? This is your home?” you asked, a little surprised at the grandeur of the mansion in front of you, which grew bigger and bigger as you approached it.
“One of my houses, yes.” he replied, cocky as always.
You playfully scoffed. “Showoff.” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear and laugh at.
He got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes at his antics, “You don’t have to do all that, you know?” you teased.
He chuckled and casually reached down to hold your hand in his as he guided you over to the front door. It was chilly out, so he walked a little faster. “Oh come on, I know I’m the bad guy now but I'm chivalrous enough to treat my ex-girlfriend right.” he played along, knowing exactly which word would get a reaction out of you.
“Ouch.” you pretended to be hurt. He laughed as he ushered you into his home.
The first thing you noticed were the guards. Then the extravagant foyer which led to the equally extravagant living room. The color theme, the lovely smell of the house, there was something about it which was so familiar, yet you couldn’t place a finger on it.
“You have a beautiful home, Buck.” you looked around and noticed that the guards had left.
He smiled and let go of your hand, letting you walk around his personal space for a bit. He could get used to this, the thought popped into his head out of nowhere. He could get used to seeing you in his home.
“Come on up, you’ll love the library.” he spoke and extended his arm out again. You took his hand and he led you up the large, fancy wooden stairs.
He was right. You did immediately fall in love with his library/study room. It was everything one dreams of. Spacious, yet cosy. Modern, but with a vintage twist. The right amount of light, but not too much. It was beautiful.
You walked a few steps further and started noticing the little things; like the mini bar, the unused typewriter on the desk, the scattered papers next to it, the chandelier which made the room look magical.
“This is beautiful.” you commented as you lazily skimmed through the books on the shelves. You heard him move around glasses in the background.
“Thank you.” he paused, pouring himself a drink. “You want a drink?”
You turned to face him for a brief moment. He had taken off his coat, leaving him in his very expensive looking black shirt. “Sure.” you answered, then you turned back around to check out the books and you could feel him staring at your back. You smirked as not so holy thoughts filled your head.
How would tonight end? You wondered.
You walked over to his desk and plopped down on his large seat. He walked over as well, placing your glass down and leaning against the edge of the table, staring down at you with a smirk on and a look in his eyes which you couldn’t quite understand.
“What?” you laughed as you took a sip of the liquor. It was smooth, and sweet and left an amazing aftertaste in your mouth as it slid down your throat, burning just a little. It tasted expensive.
“Nothing.” He replied, softly as he eyed you carefully. “I just can’t believe you’re here, after all this time.”
You smiled and looked up at him. “Things changed, haven’t they? I mean, the Bucky I knew hated whiskey and brandy. He liked cheap beers and vodka.” you pointed out.
Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, shoving a hand in his pocket out of habit. Suddenly he looked much younger and very boyish. “He changed, Y/N.”
This was the first time he used your name tonight and you felt funny inside. The good kind of funny.
“Mhmm.” you agreed. “He got meaner.” you teased and stood up from the seat, and looked past him. Right by the couches, was a small coffee table upon which something shiny caught your attention. And being the curious being you are, you walked right over without a second thought.
“You think?” he sounded playful as he watched you walk over to the coffee table where his guns were kept. He doesn’t usually leave them out in the open like this but he was cleaning them earlier so he left them there.
Bucky watched how you picked one up and examined it.
“Yeah,” you spoke up without taking your eyes off the hand gun. “He got dangerous.” You weirdly liked how it felt in your hands. A little heavier than you thought it would be.
He was surprised at how comfortable you were with this side of him. Another woman would turn the other way and would run. But not you. “Be careful with that, doll.” he warned you softly. “They’re all loaded.”
You smirked as you placed the gun down and picked up another. And you sensed him tensing up where he stood.
“Don’t touch that one.” he said calmly. You frowned.
“Why not?” you asked.
He placed his glass down and walked over to you. “I’ve done bad things with that one. I’ve hurt bad people.”
You knew your way around a gun. Your father used to hunt as a hobby so you knew the gun was locked. But just for the hell of it, you aimed it at him and smirked. “Yeah? I think I like this new Bucky a lot better.”
He smirked, loving the fact that the city didn’t diminish your spunk. He realized then that you were still the same girl he fell for in highschool. “Careful.” he warned again, giving you a soft smile. Seeing you like this made him want to do bad things to you. He felt hot as he watched you aim a gun at him. He didn’t know why.
“Scared?” you teased, loving the reaction you got out of him. The buzz of the wine earlier and the whiskey just now amplified your confidence and you loved it.
Oh fuck you looked hot. It made it hard for him to focus on anything else. “Put it down, Y/N.” he kept his devilishly handsome smirk on. You held your ground and it made him groan and roll his eyes. He approached you and you giggled. He carefully took the gun from you and placed it back down on the table, then without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you closer. “Good girls don’t play with those. You used to be so obedient, what happened?” he teased.
You smirked, finding his body heat really comforting. “I’ve changed.” you purposely repeated his own words, then added, “Maybe I’m not such a good girl anymore.” you purred. He clenched his jaw and exhaled loudly.
“Don’t tease me baby girl. I’m not as nice as I used to be.” his words made you all hot and bothered.
You smirked. “Prove it.”
And just like that, with one look of his, you were under his spell. He smirked and leaned in, purposely avoiding your lips as he gently kissed his way along your jaw. You shivered when his lips touched your neck; leaving soft kisses along the side of your throat while his hand wrapped tighter around your waist.
He made you whimper and whine, you could feel him smirk against your skin. He pulled away after a while, and held your chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, and he looked into your eyes with an intensity which made your body tingle. His thumb soon moved up to touch your soft lips gently. He traced the shape of your mouth and spoke, “I’ve missed you.” he looked down at you softly.
Your lips parted as he trailed his fingers down your chin, down your neck before he gently wrapped his fingers around your throat, applying just a bit of pressure there. You smirked as you looked up at him. “Not so sassy now, are we?” he sounded cocky and in control, just how you liked him.
And suddenly all those years which had gone by didn’t mean a thing. You picked up right where you left off. The spark was still there.
“Buck… please,” you whined under your breath. Oh how he had missed this…
He chuckled. “Come here, baby girl.” he walked a few steps backwards and plopped down on the couch, pulling you onto his lap where you fit perfectly. A soft, unexpected moan left your lips as he slipped his hand under your dress and inched higher and higher up your leg, and caressed your inner thigh as he went.
He smirked when you moaned and kept going. He leaned in to kiss your jaw and down your neck; his stubble brushing against your skin gently. His lips warm and soft as they peppered your skin with kisses, making you instinctively tilt your neck to give him easier access. He chuckled when you visibly trembled as his knuckles brushed against the front of the flimsy thong you were wearing. He couldn’t wait to tear it off your body.
His need to have you grew with each passing moment. Hot, fiery, burning desire. Bucky slipped his hand past your underwear and touched your wet folds, his two fingers circling around your clit, “You’re dripping, doll.” He chuckled as you moaned when he slowly pushed a finger past your entrance. Then another and started gently pumping them in and out of you.
Your body throbbed. You whined, throwing your head back and letting him do whatever he wanted with your body.
Bucky looked up at you in pure adoration as he placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and brushed it occasionally while he finger-fucked you; your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand; his fingers touched you in all the right places; curling just right and massaging your walls perfectly. His other hand gently wrapped around your neck; not squeezing yet but just holding you firmly.
You got a little louder as he sped up; his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease and eliciting sounds which turned you on even more. Seeing you were whining and whimpering already, Bucky moved his hand from your throat and pushed two fingers into your mouth; slowly pumped those two as well; an obscene attempt to keep you quiet.
Your mouth immediately wrapped around his fingers. And he swore under his breath again at the sight of you so salacious and open; his fingers buried in your wet core, slipping in and out of you rapidly while his other two fingers were buried into your warm mouth. The sounds you made alone were enough to make his pants feel tighter; and make him want to devour you even more. You moaned when he sped up again; his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet, almost agonizing pressure forming in between your hips. You felt a rush and a warmth washing over you; intensified by his tight grip at your throat.
“Are you gonna cum for me, doll?” he asked, leaning in to just bite your lip; not kissing you properly but just biting down and nibbling on your lower lip and making you go crazy. You whined in pleasure and nodded. He sped up again; and you rolled your hips against his hand in a haze – chasing your orgasm; moaning and whimpering. “Cum for me, come on, babygirl.” He encouraged you and tightened his grip around your throat just a little bit more.
You let the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you as you came all over his fingers; crying out loud in pleasure. Gushing out all over his hand as he kept pumping them in and out of you, getting everything he could out of you. Once satisfied, he removed his hand from your underwear and pulled his hand back from your throat and wrapped both his arms around you and pulled you closer to him, causing your sensitive core to brush against his crotch. And you could feel his erection.
“You have no idea how bad I’ve missed you, baby girl.” He whispered against your parted lips. “I searched for you, but I couldn’t find a way to get to you.”
“Buck…” your hands reached up to cup his face and you pulled away just a little to look down at him. “I’m here.” you whispered, breathless still.
He wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He finally pressed his lips to yours and kissed you like there’s no tomorrow; there was nothing gentle or innocent about the kiss, just hunger and passion and pure craving. His soft lips moved perfectly against yours through the messy kiss. He moaned through the kiss when you slid your hands into his hair and tugged on it gently. His hands rested on the curve of your ass; holding you close to him as he gently pulled away from the kiss and stared into your eyes.
He gripped your waist and pressed your cloth core onto his, making you grind against him; causing you to feel his hard on through his pants. You almost moaned at how big and firm he felt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your body shuddered as a wave of pleasure washed over you while you shamelessly rocked your hips ever so gently against his clothed hard on. He smirked at your involuntary actions.
“Fuck… I need to have you. Now.” he growled before pushing you down on the couch and hovering on top of you. He purposely pressed his crotch down in between your parted legs, making you moan at how fucking big he felt. “You feel that?” he breathed into your ear and made you shiver at how deep his voice sounded. You could almost feel the lust in his voice. “You did that, babygirl.” He pulled away from your face a little to look at you, smirking.
He kissed his way down your body, sliding your dress down your body while at it. You felt his mouth in between your thighs. Your back arched off the surface of the couch as his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit and licked down, parting your wet folds with ease.
Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin incessantly, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of.
His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. You came violently all over Bucky’s tongue, body shuddering and shaking while you moaned his name out loud. It gave him a pleasant rush when he heard your strained voice moan out his name.
He kissed your inner thighs, licking you clean before kissing his way up your body and finding your lips again. He kissed you with ardor; eager to just be inside you already and make you squirm and shake under him, but he also wanted to cherish each moment and worship your body. You felt his tongue stroke the top of your mouth, and his hands touched you wherever he could; your breasts, your waist – leaving trails of goosebumps wherever his fingers touched your skin.
He pulled away for a bit and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them down on the couch above your head. “Keep your hands there for me, baby girl.” He mumbled under his breath and lifted his hips to align his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs apart to give him more room. His hand reached down and he pumped his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process. You squirmed and moaned when he did so; the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your wet lips, parting them as he circled your clit gently. You shuddered under him; whining in need. Your body begging him to just take you already.
“Look at me.” He almost moaned as he whispered a little breathlessly, looking intensely into your eyes. The dimmed lights made his eyes look darker than usual, and his face looked dangerously handsome. His voice was deep – which caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him. You heard his ragged breaths as he removed himself out and pushed himself back into you again.
You moaned out loud, unable to hold back the sound which escaped your lips. “Fuck…” was all you were able to mutter under your breath as he pulled out of you completely, then pushed back into you again; filling you up entirely.
He sped up just a little, rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth. You could only nod senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. His lips left your mouth and kissed down your face. You let out a moan as he found your sweet spot, and felt him smirk against your skin. You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you out and pounding into you like his life depended on it.
You could no longer keep your hands off him so you reached out and held onto his shoulders; your nails digging into his skin as you felt a pressure forming around your lower region. Bucky quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room.
The dim light made his eyes look even more piercing than usual. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. The new position was much more pleasurable for the two of you; the tip of his cock touched your most sensitive spots and your back arched off the couch – your chest pressing against his partially unbuttoned shirt; his body heat radiating through the fabric.
You moaned out loud and he very gently tightened his grip around your throat. His voice cracked as he whimpered in your ear. He somehow sounded needy but in control at the same time, and it drove you crazy. You felt your walls clench around him, and tighten around his thick member; making him swear out loud.
“Cum for me, babygirl. Come on.” he panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came – hard.
You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. Bucky fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt and shamelessly told you about it; whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him – wet and warm all for him. You moaned as you felt your second release approaching while the first was still fading. Your legs were numb, and your body moved along with his like a rag doll; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You craved him.
A rush coursed through your veins as you felt your mind clouding with lust again. His large frame hovering above you as he tightened his grip around your throat just a little more. “Cum for me again, come on.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him.
A series of cuss words left your lips as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length. He bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips to meet his thrust; chasing your release. Your body trembled under him as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you before slowing down again.
He kissed you again, while you tried to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. He chuckled when he pulled away to look at how disheveled and messy you were all because of him. His hand left his throat and his thumb traced your lips again, he was mesmerized by how much of a whimpering, tear-stained mess you were.
“It’s okay doll, I’m right here.”
---
You woke up in his bed.
And the flashbacks of the time spent there hit you immediately.
You felt his arms around you as you peaked from under the blanket to try and reorient yourself. The room was brighter. You checked the time and it was around ten in the morning.
Well, there goes that family breakfast you promised your parents.
You felt Bucky stir in his sleep behind you. He peeled one eye open and smiled at the sight of you still in his bed.
“Morning baby girl,” he said in a deep, groggy morning voice which made your heart flip.
“I have plans with my family, you know? You’re just, shamelessly wrecking them.” You teased and watched how his smirk grew. His arm tightened around your body, under the covers. His touch was warm and gentle as he tugged you closer to his equally warm body.
Your bare chest pressed against his and you looked up and stared into his blue eyes. They were so dreamy you still couldn’t believe they were real.
“Oh please. Admit it, you like it better here with me rather than being confined in that old man’s house.” He rolled his eyes as he mentioned your dad.
You giggled. Him and your dad always hated each other.
“Imagine what he’d say once he finds out I’ve been hanging out with the bad guy. Again.” You played along.
Bucky laughed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll deal with him. I’d do anything for you.” he whispered softly, the last part even more so.
Your heart did that thing where it felt like it was bursting into a millions little pieces in the best ways. The butterflies in your stomach went wild at the sound of his morning voice. You looked up at him and then leaned in to kiss his neck softly.
“I missed you, you know?”
“Hmm, I know.”
You giggled and hugged him tighter. “What now?” you asked, thinking about what would happen two weeks from now, when you’d have to get back to the city.
His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “I was planning on expanding my… business to another city. How is it over there?” he asked, a smirk forming on his face as he waited for your reaction.
Your eyes widened as you quickly pulled away and sat up on his bed with a shocked look on your face. “You’re moving?”
He smiled at you. “I’ll go wherever you go at this point. I just got you back, I'm not giving up on us this time.”
“Are you sure about this? Our lives… they’re so different.” you looked down at your lap as you spoke. “Will we make it?”
He sat up and leaned against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap, caging you in his arms. “Oh we will.” Then he looked past you for a brief moment, out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He noticed the snow falling delicately. It was truly beautiful, but nothing matched how pretty you looked - messy hair, swollen lips, love bites all over your skin.
He leaned in to kiss you, then whispered against your lips. “We will make it doll, don’t you worry. Just trust me.”
a/n: ily.
#bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier#bucky barnes au#marvel#Sebastian Stan
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Sleepy Streams
Pairing: Sapnap x gn!reader
Summary: Sapnap isn’t the only one getting sleepy watching Dream speedrun for hours at a time.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: requested by a very, very kind anon! thanks for all the creative liberty you let me take with this one. i hope you like it! (i wrote this while making pasta lol) this story was inspired by this video and this video.
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“Oh, what? No way!” Sapnap gasped, his eyes widening at the sight on his screen. “You spawned in the middle of the fortress? That’s wild!”
Dream’s giddy voice echoed through his headphones. “I know, I know!!”
He leaned back in his chair, his lips curling upward eagerly. “First a Looting III sword, and now this? All in less than eight minutes? Dude, you’re so lucky today.”
Another voice came softly from his left. “Maybe this run will set a record.”
Sapnap turned, his gaze flickering to the chair beside him. His chest grew warm at the sight of you sitting with your legs crossed, your knee poking into his thigh as you scrolled through your phone absentmindedly. Your hair was a mess atop your head and you were wearing one of his shirts—the white one with the flame. He remembered how wide you had smiled when he gave it to you.
“It’s your shirt and it’s also your merch,” you had said. “It’s like... Sapnap squared!”
He chuckled at the memory of your shining eyes as you held the shirt close to your chest. Cute. You were so, so cute, even without trying, and you didn’t even know it.
He turned again, looking back at his screen just in time for Dream to locate the blaze spawner. “I’m telling you,” Dream said, the clicking of his keyboard accompanying his voice, “this seed actually just might be it.”
“I—“ Sapnap cut himself when he out an abrupt yawn, quickly regaining his composure just a second later. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it is, honestly.” He pressed a hand to his eye, gently rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes.
“Tired?” Dream prompted, blocking yet another fireball from a blaze.
Sapnap laughed. “Yeah, it’s like—“ His eyes darted to the corner of his screen. “—it’s like four in the morning. You’ve been speedrunning for nearly four hours, now.”
There came a laugh. “Well, you know. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
A comfortable silence fell between them as Dream continued to fight blaze. A muffled yawn came from beside him. Sapnap twisted his chair slightly, glancing over at you once again. You were still scrolling mindlessly through your phone, your lips twitching every once in a while. You were probably looking at some memes, or maybe just browsing through Twitter. He had tried to convince you go to sleep a few hours prior, but you had just shook your head at him.
“I like spending time with you.” He remembered you leaning up to press a kiss to his check. “Being quiet together in the same room makes me happy.”
A fond smile crossed his face. You always managed to make him smile. Just then, you felt his eyes on you and looked up, your eyes meeting his. You smiled at him, sending him a sleepy thumbs up. He smiled back, butterflies filling his stomach. The two of you had been dating for months now, and you still have him butterflies. It was crazy how much of an effect you had on him. Just how lucky was he to have you in his life?
“Alright, I have seven rods. Out of the Nether we go.” Dream’s voice pulled Sapnap out of his thoughts, and he turned to stare at his monitor screen once more.
“Let’s gooo!” he hooted, instinctively throwing a hand in the air in excitement. “You’re killing it, Dream.”
“I mean, I still have to kill a bunch of Endermen before we can say that for sure. Plus, I still have to find the stronghold, which is going to take forever, and—“ He sighed, uncertainty lacing his voice. “Maybe I’ll just quit.”
Sapnap frowned. “Dude, don’t say that. You’ve still got plenty of time. You just need to kill some Enderman on the way over to the stronghold, okay? Don’t sweat it. You’ve got this in the bag.”
Dream let out a soft chuckle. “Fingers crossed that’s how it goes.”
The next few minutes passed in silence, with Dream chasing after some Endermen and Sapnap letting out the occasional words of encouragement here and there. As much attention as he was paying to Dream’s current speedrun, his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the thought of you—you, who were so kind and warm. You, who made him laugh with hardly any effort on your behalf. You, who made loving and being loved feel so easy.
You, who had fallen asleep.
Slumped against his side, your head rolled onto his shoulder, your phone lying abandoned on your lap. Sapnap froze, inhaling sharply but immediately melting at the sight of your sleeping face. Your rosy lips were parted and your chest rose and fell with each breath you took. Your eyelashes cast a spiderweb of shadows across your cheek from the glow of his screen, and your cheek was smushed cutely where it met his shoulder.
He took back what he thought earlier. You weren’t just cute—you were adorable.
“Hey, uh, Dream,” he said, careful to be quiet so as not to wake you up, “I think I’m gonna go to sleep. It’s getting really late.”
Dream made a frustrated noise. “Still no pearls—oh, heading to bed?” He could hear the smile in his voice. “Let me guess, you have school tomorrow.”
Sapnap’s gaze darted to your sleeping figure. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Well,” Dream laughed, “you have fun in class tomorrow, then. This run is probably my last one for the night. It’s probably scuffed or whatever, but I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Sapnap smiled. “Alright, thanks.” He moved his cursor to hover over the ‘end call’ button. “Goodnight, Dream.”
“Night, Sapnap. Sleep well.”
He clicked his mouse, finally exiting the call after a good three hours and fifty-two minutes. He then shifted his attention to you, your hair tickling his cheek. Oh so carefully, he wrapped one arm around your back and slid the other under your legs, hoisting you into his arms so that your head laid on his chest. Nudging his chair back, he made his way to the other side of his room. For once, Sapnap was grateful that he didn’t make his bed, if only so he could gently lay you under the covers without having to fumble for the sheets.
He was slow to slide himself into the space next to you, his eyes tracing ever edge of your delicate face as he tucked the both of you in. Raising a hand, he brushed back a stray piece of hair from your fluttering eyelids using the back of his finger, smiling when you unconsciously leaned into his touch. Suddenly, your lips moved.
“...Sapnap,” you mumbled, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. “...love you.”
His heart leapt into his throat. Goddamnit. He swore it must be illegal to be this cute. It just had to be.
“I love you too, angel,” he murmured in your ear. He slipped his arm around you, holding you close to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he dozed off into a warm, hazy dream.
He wouldn’t mind spending every night like this with you—maybe for the rest of his life.
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(A few minutes later, Sapnap’s phone lit up from a very, very excited notification from Dream.)
#mcyt#dream mcyt#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt x reader#mcyt fandom#sapnap#sapnap x reader#dream#dreamwastaken#dream team#dreamwastaken x reader#dream x reader#technoblade#georgenotfound#georgenotfound x reader#mcyt fanfic#mcyt scenario#mcyt imagine#fanfic#dream fanfic#sapnap imagine#sapnap scenario#sapnap fluff#mcyt fluff#my writing
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Midnight Hang-Outs
This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.
Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.
He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.
She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.
The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.
She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”
The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”
Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”
The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”
“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.
The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.
“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.
The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”
Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”
“How do you know I have a dark past?”
“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”
The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”
“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.
“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.
“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”
The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”
Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.
The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”
The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.
“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”
The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”
Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.
The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”
“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.
#danny phantom#phantom#danny fenton#danny#fenton#ghost#dannymay2021#au#harley quinzel#harley quinn#dc#crossover#fic#fanfic#fanfics#writing#my writing#fun#sweet#talking#Danny gets adopted#kinda#might be a little ooc#for Harley#I don’t read a lot of dc comics#but I LOVE the idea of Harley feeding all the teen vigilantes she comes across#she’s not the meanest villain#she probably looks at teenage heroes#and goes#who let these babies on the fighting field
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Reincarnation au part 4?
The week went by slowly but surely, and soon enough it was Friday night. Most everyone had gone out partying, including Georges who seemed to talk about only that the entire day.
“You’re not going out?” Max asked, watching his roommate dry his hair with a towel. Always how their conversations started in the evening.
“Nah, I don’t really feel like it. I’d rather just stay in honestly.” He answered, hair now wrapped in said towel.
“I see. Well I picked up some microwave food, which I know is not the healthiest option, but it’s something. If you want some, of course.” Max suggested.
“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll take some.” Antoine replied, focusing more of his attention on other things. Max nodded to himself, before sliding off of his bed and making his way over to his stash of food.
“You know, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could go and find like.. a shelf or something. I know you have an entire bag of stuff under your bed that you haven’t gone through, some extra storage might be helpful.” He suggested, already putting the food in the microwave.
“Sure, I guess.” Came the hesitant response.
Maybe that’s a bad idea. We’ll see tomorrow.
“Alright, well I hope you like ramen.” Max commented, with a chuckle.
“Of course, it’s a staple of college life isn’t it.” Antoine replied. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the cup of noodles from Max before sitting back on his bed. Max grabbed his own cup of ramen before settling on his own bed.
In the end they ended up turning on some cheap knockoff Netflix horror movie which managed to last until 10:30.
***
For once the entire week, Max was not woken by the strange remix of Chop Suey, but instead the sun shining directly in his face. Drowsily making his usual cup of coffee, he sat for a moment in thought.
“I knew you were up the moment I smelled coffee.” Came an amused voice from somewhere. Max jumped, nearly spilling his coffee, before glancing to his side.
“Oh, it’s just you. Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment.” He said, airily, and Antoine snickered very briefly.
“I noticed.” He said, with a carefully raised brow. “So, IKEA?” Max slowly lowered his cup of coffee at that.
“Why specifically IKEA..?” He asked, and a glint of mischief briefly flashed in Antoine’s eyes.
“Because,” he began, “have you ever tried to assemble a piece of furniture from ikea..?” He asked, leaning against the counter.
“Yes, it never goes well.” Max responded, with confusion.
“Exactly. But not this time, because at least I’m not putting it together on my own.” His roommate said, digging around and pulling out a t-shirt. “So, finish your coffee and get ready, we’re leaving right after.” Max raised an eyebrow as his eyes went wide.
“Not if I’m the one driving we’re not?” He replied.
“You’re not, I am.” Max groaned, before downing his coffee as quickly as he could, rushing around to get ready. As he stood brushing his teeth, he noticed the shadows under his eyes getting darker, or at least, darker than they were one week ago. Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on getting ready.
“Please tell me you obey traffic laws..” he began, emerging from the bathroom.
“I wouldn’t have passed the test if I didn’t.” Answered Antoine, walking out the door and into the hall, Max sighing tiredly before following after him. The air, at least, was slightly cooler outside to Max’s relief.
Ah, finally fall is coming soon. What a relief.
Max fell quiet before getting in the car, putting the seatbelt on and making sure it was extra tight.
“So you’re telling me you lived in this car for who knows how long..?” He asked, nervously.
“Uh.. yeah. That would be correct. Not like I didn’t clean it out when I got here, calm down.” Replied Antoine, who was more focused on actually starting the car.
“No, no, I have no doubt that you did. I’m just saying it’s.. kind of small. And you had a lot of stuff plus yourself-“ Max continued, weighing his points invisibly in his hands.
“Oh. Yeah, that wasn’t really enjoyable. It wasn’t all bad though, I could just turn on music and look out at the stars through the sunroof. That was the best part honestly. Everything else was shit, and don’t get me wrong I love this car but it is not ideal to have to live out of.” Antoine replied again, already focused on driving.
I won’t press the issue further, it had to be a pretty personal reason. No one just immediately goes to living out of their car after graduating.
The highway signs passed like sand in an hour glass, and soon enough they found themselves wandering through an ikea.
“How about these?” Max asked, pointing to some small shelves. “They’re small but I think they’d be able to hold quite a bit, plus there’s multiple.” He continued.
“Yeah, those could probably work.” Antoine replied, and without a second thought he was grabbing the box. Max stared wide eyed for a moment, before nodding and following him once more.
Once the shelves were actually bought, they traversed the large parking lot all the way back to Antoine’s car, putting the shelves in the trunk and making their way back. Max could tell he was in for a long day.
Once they were sat back in their dorm, with the materials scattered about the floor, Max made himself another cup of coffee.
“Do we have a screwdriver?” Antoine asked, from his spot on the floor, nose deep in the instructions.
“I don’t think so.” Max answered, apologetically.
“Maybe Georges has one, could you go ask him? I really hate to ask him of all people but..” his roommate trailed off, and Max nodded.
And so then Max was marching off towards Georges’ dorm, knocking on the door before he had any time to protest.
“What the fuck do you- Maximilien..?” Georges asked, clearly hung over.
“Hi yes-“
“Who’s at the door?” A woman’s groggy voice asked from somewhere in the room, Max immediately went expressionless.
Of course.
“Just some guy from my art history class, don’t worry about it!” Georges called back in response, before turning back to Max. “Anyway, how can I help you.” The latter cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I was wondering if you have a screwdriver I could borrow.” He asked, and Georges thought for a moment.
“Actually, I think I do, give me a sec.” he said, briefly retreating back into his room, before returning and slapping a screwdriver in Max’s hand. “There you go, man.”
“Thanks.” Max said simply, and made his way back.
***
“I have our screwdriver.” Max said, passing it to Antoine, before grabbing his beloved coffee.
How would I manage to have made it this far without caffeine.
“See?! I told you this time would be better!” Antoine exclaimed suddenly, with triumph clear in his voice. In front of him sat a set of surprisingly logical shelves.
“Nice, now to just put them in the wall.” Max responded, smiling tiredly. It had taken the entire morning and most of the afternoon, the sun was close to setting.
Who knew it took this long to put shelves together? Actually, it’s most likely because they’re from ikea.
Then his phone buzzed.
Camille:
Hey dude, Lucile told me to tell you she said hello.
Anyway, we have a date set. The wedding is going to be March 3rd.
Max smiled at his phone before typing out his response.
‘Alright, I’ll put it in my calendar. Thank you for letting me know.’
He put his phone back down, before passing Antoine a nail that sat on the floor.
“That might be helpful.” He said, with a warm smile.
“Oh, thanks.” His roommate replied, taking the nail from him.
Max couldn’t really be much help with actually getting the shelves up on the wall, so he simply stared out the window and drank his coffee. His third cup.
It was surprisingly quiet that evening, everyone was either away for the weekend, or staying inside.
Somehow, he missed the sound of rustling around in the bag, and only just now registered the sound of what he thought was sniffling. He turned away from the window, face wrought with worry.
“Are you.. ok..?” He asked, and Antoine nearly jumped, before coughing, the cough obviously being fake.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine I just.. dust. In my nose.” He responded, completely avoiding turning around to face Max. “You know what, I’m going to shower before I go through the bag.” Max watched still as his roommate made a beeline for the bathroom.
Alright, that's troubling.
Max wasn’t going to just go snooping around in his roommates stuff, he figured that if Antoine wanted to talk he would.
The evening was spent ignoring the issue, eating more Chinese food, and watching movies.
The moon shone in brightly through the single window that they were lucky enough to have, as Max sat on his bed. Beside him, he heard the sound of a sigh and the bag being dragged out from under the bed, it’s contents being carefully piled together.
“That’s a big difference from how you treated the other bags,” Max commented, with a raised brow, his tone as light as he could manage.
“Well yeah, the contents are fragile.” Antoine answered, laughing dryly. “They’re pictures.”
“I see,” Max added, nodding sagely. There was a pause.
“Did you.. want to see them or something..?” His roommate asked, and he stared back intrigued. “I don’t really mind, you know.” With that he slid off of his bed, sitting on his roommates when the latter moved a bit to give him room.
In a pile, there sat photos. Photos that Max felt wrong for looking at.
“Who is that?” He asked, pointing to the other person in the picture. It was a girl, and she was smiling rather brightly.
“Right… that’s my ex.” Antoine answered. “And the reason I was living out of my car.” Max fell silent.
“Are you.. are you sure you want me looking at these..?” He asked, and the other shrugged.
“Doesn’t really matter honestly. They’re from a time that at this point is long gone.” Antoine answered. “Oh, this one’s funny. That was at the end of one of the school years, I can’t remember which, she and I and a bunch of our friends all just.. kind of.. spontaneously went camping. May or may not have stolen a car, that’s also the first time we decide to use fake ID’s, it was.. very illegal. But it was fun. Just don’t tell the cops.” He said, holding a picture with a group of teenagers in the middle of the woods by a lake in swim suits. Two familiar faces stood out. “He actually ended up getting stuck in a tree. No idea how he got up in said tree but once he did he could not get back down.” The pair laughed a bit. Picture after picture, Max felt like he was almost intruding. “Oh, that was graduation, oh and this one is when we ended up getting an apartment, and.. that was last Christmas.”
“You guys seemed very happy,” Max commented absently.
“Yeah, I guess we were.” Antoine answered, silence fell once more and before Max could even speak, his question was answered. “But, her parents absolutely hated me. Why I have no idea, but.. because we ended up getting the apartment together I had nowhere to stay so I ended up just living out of my car. In case you were wondering.” There was a pause. “Not her fault, really, but.. honestly she was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She was funny, too, and always so supportive. There’s no other person like her in the world.” Antoine rambled, voice clearly strained.
“You miss her, I can tell.” Max commented, brows knitted together. His heart hurt.
“Maybe I do, but it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.” Antoine answered.
“What was her name?”
“Thérèse.”
#frev but make it a poorly written reincarnation au.#frev#french revolution#claws out for the main 5#that’s right everyone we’re bringing this back
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“Stay PT. 1” j.j.h
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Pairing: professor!jaehyun x prostitute!reader.
Genre: Angst, smut, fluff.
Warnings: Explicit sex, age gap, slight mention of violence.
Summary: y/n was a prostitute in the most expensive hotel of Seoul, not because she liked to have sex with strangers, but because she needed the money. Jaehyun was her college professor, he needed to “get laid” according to his friends, but he would’ve never imagined that the girl he hired was one of his students. His favorite student.
a/n: I’m sorry if this is shit. If you don’t like this kind of topics, please keep scrolling. I know that prostitution is illegal in Korea, but let’s imagine it’s not. Thank you for reading.
Part 2 | Part 3
“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson. See you tomorrow.” Your creative writing professor dismissed the class. “Oh, wait. Before you go, leave your essays on my desk.”
Everyone groaned, specially those students who hadn’t done the assignment. You collected your stuff and pulled the essay out of your backpack.
“I’m really looking forward to read your essay.” Mr. Jung smiled warmly. “Your writing is impecable, maybe even better than mine.” You could feel the eyes of your classmates staring at you. It wasn’t common for your professor to compliment anyone.
“I’m nothing compared to you, but anyways, thank you, Mr. Jung. See you on Monday.” His dimples showed as he waved you goodbye.
You walked to your next class while Jaehyun left the building to meet his friends.
“Dude it’s been like forever since the last time we were all together.” Johnny hugged his friend tightly.
All the boys went to a restaurant near the school.
“So, how’s your love life?” Ten asked with curiosity.
“I don’t have time for that.” Jaehyun remembered all the essays he had to grade and felt the urge to go home. “Guys, I need to go.”
“But the fun hasn’t even started, we were gonna go to the club tonight.” All the boys whined.
“I have a lot of work to do, sorry.” Jaehyun picked up his coat while listening to his friends’ complaints.
“You know what? You need to get laid.” Johnny looked dead serious.
“What the fuck, John?” Jaehyun didn’t even know how to answer.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“A year.” Jaehyun thought.
“Here.” Johnny placed a card in Jaehyun’s hand. “The place is a little bit expensive, but believe me, the service is amazing.”
Jae checked the card.
“You want me to pay for sex? I’ll pass.”
“As you wish bro, but that place is awesome.” Jaehyun left after hearing Johnny.
While he was checking the essays, the idea of going to that hotel wouldn’t leave his mind. “Maybe it would take some stress off.” He kept thinking.
After a lot of meditation, he decided to give it a try, if he didn’t like it, he could just leave.
He felt his hands shaking as he entered the hotel. Jaehyun walked towards the reception. Everything was so shiny, it was like being inside of a castle.
“Hello, how can I help you sir?” Jaehyun placed the card over the desk. “Follow me please.”
The walked towards the stairs that guided to the first floor.
“You just need to go up and turn to the left, there’s only one door so I don’t think you’ll get lost. Excuse me.” She bowed and went back to her place in the reception.
The stairs were made from quartz, the material was a little slippery, but Jaehyun managed to go all the way up without tripping. The lady was right, there was only one door with the inscription “Eden”. Soft music could be heard from behind the door.
A man welcomed him as he entered. He guided Jaehyun to a desk.
“Right now there are only two ladies and a man available.” He checked a book.
“I think I’ll stick with the ladies.” Jaehyun started fidgeting with his fingers.
“Very well.” He turned the page of his book. “One of them is 22, B cup, 1.60 meters tall. The other one is 30, C cup and 1.73 meters tall.” Jaehyun felt as if he was buying something. “The first one is submissive and basically accepts any kink the client wants to try, the other one is a switch and prefers vanilla sex.” The man directed his gaze to Jaehyun. “In my opinion, the first option is much better.”
“I think I’ll go with her.” The insecurity in Jaehyun’s voice made the man laugh.
“I’ll read the rules for you.” He cleared his throat. “Marking is strictly forbidden and so is any action that will affect our worker’s wellbeing. You’ll have an hour and a half to do what you need to do, in case of wanting more time, we’ll charge you $50 for every extra hour. No raw sex, you’ll have to wear protection, this is mostly to prevent a STD. And that’s all.” He pulled out a box from under his desk. “We also sell toys in case you’d like to purchase anything to make your experience better.”
“I think I’m good, thank you.” He put the box back in it’s original place. “How much will it be?” Jaehyun pulled out his wallet.
“$500.” Well, Johnny wasn’t exagerating when he said the place was expensive.
Still, Jaehyun handed his card to the employee. Once the payment was done, the man made a call.
“This way, sir.” He guided Jaehyun down the hall, the velvety walls gave the place a sexy vibe. “She’s inside.” He stopped in front of a room. “If you need anything I’ll be in my desk.” He bowed and left Jaehyun in front of the door.
He gathered all the courage inside of him and opened the door. The room was dark, so he turned on the lights.
“Hello, sir.” He froze when that familiar voice called him.
When you realized who it was you felt like dying from embarassment.
“Y/n?” He couldn’t believe his sweet student was a hooker.
“Mr. Jung.” You bowed a little too low, attempting to cover the blush on your face. “If you’d like, we can make a change. My coworker is free.” You were facing the floor.
“I...” Jaehyun couldn’t find any appropriate words. The view of you in a black lace lingerie set had stollen his breath. “I don’t care, but if you want to change then we can change.” He scratched his neck awkwardly.
“I don’t mind either.” To be completely honest, no one in their right mind would reject a man as handsome as Jung Jaehyun.
He stepped closer to you. With his pointer finger, he lifted up your chin. Those warm eyes made you feel somehow less nervous.
“I’m supposed to ask you about your preferences so...” Your words caught him off guard.
Would you still respect him after this?
“Sir?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Please don’t think I’m weird.” You giggled. “First of all... I like to be called master.” His ears started to turn red. “I like my partner to be completely submissive. I also have a thing for bondage, but if you feel uncomfortable you can forget I ever said something.” He was talking to fast.
“Mr. Jung, please calm down. It’s not my first time doing this. We can try whatever you want.” You smiled to comfort him, but on the inside, you were just as nervous as Jaehyun. “Shall we get started?” He nodded.
His hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you. It was soft, until he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You moaned into the kiss.
Both of you started walking towards the bed without breaking the kiss. He pushed you down and you fell in the soft bed.
“Mr. Jung.” You moaned his name when he started touching one of your barely covered breasts.
“Master.” He corrected.
His hands started to undo your bra.
“I’ll just...” He lifted your back to remove it completely. “So gorgeous.”
His hands cupped both of your breasts. Your hips tried to grind on his crotch.
“You want my cock? Such a dirty little slut.” He lowered his body and grinded harder on you. “Do you want my cock inside your tight pussy?”
“Yes, master.” You whimpered. None of your clients had turned you on as much as Jaehyun did.
One of his hands reached for your cunt. His fingers went over the wet patch in your panties.
“So wet for me.” He got up and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Jaehyun unbottoned his shirt and pulled down his jeans. He kneeled in front of you and slowly slipped your panties off your legs. “So pretty.” His thumb slightly touched your wet pussy.
He finally got rid of his boxers and hovered over you. “That’s huge.” You thought when you saw his length.
“Condom.” You reminded him. With a groan, he got up from the bed and pulled one out of the pocket of his jeans.
He quickly opened it and rolled it down his dick. He went back to his previous position and aligned his tip with your entrance.
You felt his length slowly entering you. It hurt a lot, but the pleasure started to overcome the pain.
“Please move, master.” His pace was inhumane.
You were turned into a moaning mess. No one had ever made you feel so good. He pulled one of your knees to your chest. The pleasure just increased.
“My slut is having such a good time, isn’t she?” You wanted to answer, but your orgasm took over your mind.
You clenched your hole around him. Jaehyun came with a low groan.
Your breathing was erratic, that was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Jaehyun got rid of the condom and laid down beside you. His arms wrapped around your body.
“That was so good.” He laughed slightly. “You’re amazing.” His nose started rubbing against your neck.
“Thank you, Mr. Jung.”
“Oh please, I think you can call me Jaehyun now.” He softly kisses your cheek.
“Okay, Jaehyun.” You both laughed.
An alarm rang, meaning your service was over.
“I need to go.” You got up from the bed and started collecting your clothes.
“Maybe I can pay an extra hour. We can cuddle and watch Tv. Sounds fun, right?” His smile was so sweet that you almost considered his proposal.
But you couldn’t jeopardize your job because of a pretty smile.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You got dressed and grabbed a robe from the closet. “See you on Monday.”
“Oh, come on y/n. Stay, I really don’t mind paying fifty bucks.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Jung.” With that being said, you left the room.
#nct au#nct imagines#nct ot21#nct smut#nct x reader#nct 127#nct jung yoonoh#nct jaehyun#nct scenarios#nct
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Morning Ride
fem!Reader x Park Jimin
Word Count: 1,902
Genre: Smut (w/ some crack)
Rating: Mature
Warning: grinding, dry humping, car sex, nipple play, public sex, sexual humiliation, numerous mentions of Jimin’s juicy lips lol
[A/N: So this story really came out of nowhere. Please forgive me if this comes off as super cringy, I tried my best with this one. Oh and you might notice that I’m kinda obsessed with Jimin’s lips lmao Please feel free to leave any kind of feedback.]
You were contently eating your blueberry bagel, waiting for the guys to pick you up for school. It had just turned 10 am so you knew they should be on their way. Unlike Taehyung, Jungkook and your boyfriend Jimin, your classes don't actually begin until the afternoon. It was just more convenient to wake up early and tag along with them. While the guys attended their classes, you usually just spent time in the university's library reading a book or studying.
As you sipped your lukewarm green tea, you finally received the text you were expecting.
Jiminie: We're here. Come outside
On that note, you quickly finished your bagel, slipped on your shoes, grabbed your bag and headed out the door.
You reflexively covered your eyes with your hand to shield it from the bright, mid-morning sun as you walked towards Taehyung's gaudy purple car. While the car was nice, you never understand why he chose the color purple for it. "It looks like something a pimp would drive, dude," you clowned him when he first got it. But seeing that he would be gracious enough to give you and the gang rides, you refrain from further making fun of it. At least not to his face.
You gave the guys a little wave as you were approaching and they waved back. With Taehyung driving, Jungkook was in the passenger seat beside him. Leaving your boyfriend, Jimin, the love of your life, in the backseat behind Jungkook. You see him smile brightly as you walk towards them; even after 3 years of dating, his smile never fails to make you feel tingly inside.
As usual, you get around behind the car to sit on the other side of the car.
"Wait, Y/N, there's-," you hear Taehyung say to you from his opened window but you had already opened the car door. Expecting to see a free spot next to your boyfriend, all you see is a huge block of metal in your way.
"What the hell is this?," you asked Taehyung.
"Oh that's my safe," he answers matter of factly. You took another look at the metal box and it was, indeed, a safe.
"Okay better question: why do you have a safe?"
"So I can keep stuff in it. Duh." He responds, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.
"Can you please move it to the trunk or something?" It was too early to deal with your friend's eccentricities.
Taehyung shakes his head. "No, it weighs a fuck ton. You'll just have to sit on Jimin's lap."
"What?!" Not only you knew that option was illegal and potentially dangerous, you also knew the type of person your boyfriend was. One word: handsy.
"Come on, y/n!," you hear Jungkook whined from the passenger seat. "Just get in, we're gonna be late for philosophy and I really don't wanna be berated by Professor Lee again."
Feeling defeated, you slammed the door shut and walked around towards Jimin's side. Once you opened his door, you find Jimin giving you a cheeky smile. He pats his tights and says to you in a playful tone, "Well hop in, honey." You huffed at him but it's not like you had a choice.
You carefully sild into the car and sat on his lap. As Taehyung starts to drive again, you turned your head back to Jimin. "No funny business, you understand?," you whisper. But he just give you a smile, the mischievous kind where you know he's going to be up to no good.
During the drive, you listen to Jungkook rant about how much of a weirdo Prof. Lee was. You were laughing at Jungkook's insistent whining when you started to feel something on your back. It felt soft and warm, it doesn't take you long to realize that you were feeling Jimin's lips pressed against the fabric of the shirt.
"Dammit, Jimin," you cursed in your head. You were about to turn around and silently scold him but the feel of him leaving delicate kisses on your back was so heavenly, it stops you. You tried your best to ignore his kisses and listen to your friends' conversation. However, it was super difficult to focus due to your boyfriend peppering your back with his soft lips. As he was doing just that, Jimin began to grip your hips, which immediately made you reminisce of the countless times you would lose yourself while frantically riding him reverse cowgirl style. With that, you couldn't help yourself but respond to his actions by slowly grinding on him. You tried your best to be subtle since it would be more than embarrassing if Taehyung and Jungkook found out the two of you are practically dry humping on the backseat.
When you thought this gratifying torture wouldn't end, you and guys finally arrive at school. As Taehyung finds and parks in an empty spot, you feel Jimin leave one more lingering and loving kiss and wrap his arms around you. You honestly want to stay in that moment but second the engine stopped, you had to get out. You quickly got off Jimin and out of the car, so he can get off and for you to cool down your flustered state. Even though the fresh air does feel good on your hot skin, you were still incredibly horny and you needed to think of a way to relieve it.
"Um, Tae," you called out for him as he got out of the car, "is it alright if I could take a nap in your car? I didn't really sleep well last night and I could use some rest."
Taehyung looks at you quizzically. "Aren't you heading to the library? Just take a nap there. Jungkook does it all the time."
Jungkook nods. "Surprisingly their encyclopedias make great pillows."
"Actually, the librarians are cracking down on renegade nappers and kicking them out," you lied.
"Well," Taehyung hesitates but you shoot him your signature pouty puppy dog look, knowing it will soften him. And you succeeded.
"Okay, okay," he says annoyed, "just remember to lock the door when you leave."
"Thanks, Tae," you give him a small smile.
As you watch the boys walk towards the campus, Jimin stops and turns his head to you. He winks, indicating that he knows your plan and starts to walk away again You feel your face getting hot again.
You got in the passenger seat and put up Taehyung's sun reflectors to block each window. When you're done, you slide off your already partially damp panties and toss them in the back.
It was going to take awhile so you just leaned back and closed your eyes, causing you to actually drift off a bit. You were then woken up by a tap of the window glass on the driver's side. You unlocked the door and Jimin quickly got inside.
"Sorry, it took me so long. I had to wait for the Professor Lee to be well into the lecture." Jimin slightly lifts himself up above his seat and pulls down his jeans and boxers, with his erect pens already springing up.
"Oh," you said in a rather flattered tone, "I didn't think you wanted me that much."
"Of course, Y/N," Jimin blushes a bit,"the minute I found out you had to sit on me during the drive, I knew I was a goner."
Seeing Jimin's sudden bashfulness, compared to his bold actions from before, made your heart fluttered. And somehow it made you even more aroused.
As you lifted yourself up from the passenger seat, you hiked your skirt up and carefully straddled onto Jimin's bare lap. Slowly and teasingly, you slide yourself down until you completely engorged Jimin's rigid cock.
"Ah," a low moan escaped your throat. Placing your hands on Jimin's body shoulders, you begin to rock your hips back and forth. You gradually pick up the pace, causing you to pant and moan vigorously.
"You drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?," you lamented, having trouble steadying your voice.
You watch Jimin's eyes flutter, lost in total ecstasy. "Isn't that the point, Pop Tart?"
Like earlier, you felt Jimin grip your hips tightly. He pushes himself further inside, matching your rhythm.
"Fuck, Y/N," Jimin groans, "Unbutton your shirt."
Obediently, you untucked your button up blouse from your skirt and swiftly unbuttoned it, exposing your pink-white polka dot bra.
Jimin lifts up his hands from your waist and begins to grope your breasts firmly. You throw your head back in pleasure as Jimin kneads your chest and rubs your peaked nips through the fabric of your bra. Not being able to take the teasing any longer, you unhooked your bra in seconds, causing your breasts to spill out and jiggle inches from Jimin’s face.
As if without thinking, Jimin pulls you towards him and takes one of your tits in his mouth. The feel of Jimin’s supple lips on your nipple and his tongue swirling around it makes your mind go fuzzy. You rock yourself faster and deeper onto Jimin’s cock, clenching your sides around him.
Jimin stops sucking your nip and leans back in his seat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans breathlessly, “Just like that, baby.”
The air in the car was starting to getting thick with your heated breaths and the familiar aromatic scent of sex. The lack of fresh air was making you feel a bit lightheaded but that somehow made this tryst even more erotic.
You feel your core tightening, sensing your orgasm arriving. You lean into Jimin, tightly gripping his shoulders, preparing for the feeling of fireworks exploding throughout your body.
But instead, you feel the rush of cool air as the driver is opened wide. To your horror, you and Jimin turn your heads to find an extremely displeased Taehyung.
“What the fuck are you two doing in my car?!,” he shouts.
“What do you think we’re doing, genius?,” Jimin retorts.
Taehyung's eyes darken in anger. “Both of you, out now-.”
Before he could finish his sentence, as the situation wasn’t humiliating enough, you unexpectedly found your body writhing from one of the most explosive orgasms you ever had.
“Ah!,” you loudly moan, involuntarily rolling your hips to ride out the pleasure.
Taehyung freezes in place, not believing what he just witnessed.
You then proceed to feel Jimin’s cock twitch and thrust deeply inside you, moaning audibly for Taehyung to hear as well.
“Ugh! You two are fucking gross!,” you hear Taehyung yells before slamming the door shut.
After a moment reeling from your intense climaxes, the both of you looked at each and burst out laughing.
“Oh my god,” you said, face palming, “I can’t that just happened. I’m so embarrassed.”
Jimin smiles at you. “Yeah, me too. But at least it felt good, right?”
You smiled back at him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Yeah, really good.” Cupping his face, you leaned in once again to kiss him more passionately. You savored the feel of Jimin’s ever soft, buttery lips, the same lips that never fails to drive you absolutely wild.
You both knew for the rest of the day and possibly week, Taehyung was going to continue unleashing his wrath towards you two. But really, it was his fault for leaving that stupid safe in the backseat.
#thehouseofbangtan#heartsforbts#btsbookclub#btsgoldnet#btswritingcafe#btsnoonanet#btscreatorscorner#bts#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#bts x reader#bts x female reader#reader x jimin#female reader x jimin#jimin x female reader#jimin x y/n#park jimin#park jimin fanfic#bts jimin#jimin#park jimin smut#bts smut#bangtan seonyeondan
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Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 12
happy Chronicles update! I know I waited a while to post this one, but I feel like I’m in a good place to share it now. so, I hope you like it! it’s... an interesting one.
from: itsdjbubbles 29 July, 19:30. La Tortue. you and your group got a setlist?
to: itsdjbubbles i… could have a setlist. and we’re more of a band than a group.
from: itsdjbubbles hell yeah, dude. you’re in.
–––
just saw adrien agreste in person. In Person. i don’t think i can even afford his aura. or, like. the CO2 he’s breathing out?
no, i’m not going to say where. i’m not a total dickwad. just sometimes. mostly because my sister would come for me if i didn’t say so.
also, fellow parisians, who hopefully are not or have not been as much of a dumbass as me: watch this space for an announcement, maybe.
Adrien Agreste is right. There. In all his swoopy-blond-hair, thousand-euro-smile, million-euro-clothing glory. Hanging by the doorway, and seeing him standing at the register like an actual human being, and laughing like an actual human being, and paying with a debit card like an actual human being, is like looking into the goddamn sun. Or like standing in the weird static, plasma dimension that exists between the TV screen and real life. Or both.
Okay. Luka will admit that, for a time that now feels both distant and delirious, he… probably entertained a celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. But it was short-lived, and it felt more like a warm fuzz in his stomach whenever he passed by those radiant advertisements for perfume, men’s clothing, even underwear. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he was just admitting that Adrien Agreste had a certain charm and attraction because he, like many people in Paris, had a functional pair of eyes.
It was… fantasy, really. Self-indulgent. The way most infatuation tends to be. Observation with a cause; he heard it once in a song.
Adrien Agreste is still standing right. There. At the register. And Luka hasn’t moved from the entrance. Not even when the door hits him unceremoniously in the back and the bell above it mocks him as it announces his arrival.
And then Adrien Agreste turns on his heel, slipping his wallet into his back pocket with one seemingly perfect hand and gripping a pastry box with the other, and Luka’s body reminds him to step aside. He does, still dumbstruck despite how Adrien Agreste literally smiles at him and says good morning, and the door closes behind him again, and not for the first time in his life, Luka forgets what words are or how to string them together.
When he comes to his senses and makes peace with the fact that he just shared the same breathing air as a real-live supermodel, he notices—even from this far away—that Marinette is wearing that expression again. The one from the park. The one he wishes never existed—because even if this is another observation with a cause, he at least has the good sense to know that Marinette Dupain-Cheng does not deserve to look so sad, no matter how many smiles she layers on top of it.
Until now, it seems like Marinette’s only been looking past him, but when her eyes finally settle on him, she perks up a bit from her place at the register. “You dyed your hair,” she says by way of greeting, and he swears her face starts to glow. Or maybe it always was glowing. Maybe it wasn’t because of him.
“Uh,” he replies, because when has he ever been smooth when she’ s looking at him like that? or at all? “Technically, Jules did.” He says it hurriedly, so neither of them has to worry about it or talk about it, but then she has to go and tell him that it looks good on him, and his words have to get stuck on his tongue again when he says, “Thanks, I grew it myself.”
Kill him. Now. He’s ready. Juleka can have his guitar.
“So,” he goes on, a little perkier than he means to, but it’s probably for the best. “That was, uh… that Adrien Agreste guy, huh? You know him or something?”
Marinette’s expression is almost unreadable. It is hard to tell if she regrets knowing Adrien, or if she thinks Luka must be living under a rock because everyone knows who Adrien Agreste is. She snaps back to herself soon enough, and she’s browsing the pastry cases as though it’s her responsibility to find something good for him. “We used to go to middle school together,” she explains. “Just for a while. I even used to have this mondo crush on him. Can you imagine?”
“Yeah,” Luka says, because he can’t count how many times he’s imagined her in love, much less how many times he’s imagined other people in love with her. “Huh. I pegged him as the type to get homeschooled or something.” He tosses a glance behind him, just to see if the limo is still there, but it’s long since peeled away. “What… happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“You…” He pauses. “You said, ‘used to?’”
“Oh,” she says, half-flippant, with a sheepish laugh to match. “Y’know.”
Luka narrows his eyes. “No, I don’t,” he says. “That’s… why I asked?” Even though he maybe, definitely shouldn’t have because it maybe, definitely isn’t his business.
Marinette shrugs, busies herself with boxing up a selection. He doesn’t even have to ask. (Is it good that he doesn’t have to ask?) “I switched schools. That’s all. Turns out absence doesn’t really make the heart grow fonder after all.”
It doesn’t sound like that’s all, especially if the bittersweet look on her face has anything to say about it, but who is he to push? Who is he to do anything but peek into her life and feel grateful, privileged, for what she’s allowed him?
“Anyway,” she goes on; it’s mesmerizing, watching her multitask. The grace with which she can open herself up, so clipped, while taping a box shut. “Our friend is making this music video for a summer class he’s taking. He’s really into film, you know? And we’re playing opposite each other in it. I guess he wanted to come by and chat about it, but I think he had something else in mind.”
Luka’s brow furrows.
When Marinette turns, box in hand, her lips scrunch up awkwardly. Like she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say this time. “Now he’s the one who…”
Oh. Well. Fuck.
“I turned him down,” she adds with a shrug. “In high school. And we’re still… sort of friends. We text and stuff, have a couple of mutual friends. I just get the sense those feelings—his, I mean—never really went away. There’s just… something I can’t shake. Do you know what I mean?”
Does he know what she means? Does he feel? He nods, dumbly, and maybe this moment separated by a counter and a cash register isn’t supposed to be as deep and twisted and thorny as it is. But it is, and it feels that way because he feels, and he wonders if she feels it, too. If there are parts of her that never went away, either.
“Sorry,” Marinette blurts out once the moment ends—too soon, as far as he’s concerned. “You didn’t ask to hear all that.”
“I don’t mind.” Luka offers her a smile because it’s the best thing he has on him. “Life stories, remember?”
She smiles back. It’s slow, and knowing, and it makes him melt in his shoes. “Are you gonna make a song about it, Music Man?”
Okay. Okay. Wow.
Maybe it was worth staying alive for literally this one moment.
“I could write a song about it,” he says; it’s a miracle he doesn’t stammer. “Would you come and listen to it?”
“In the park?”
“At a gig.”
Marinette looks surprised, and then impressed, and damn if he doesn’t want to keep doing things that make her make that face. “Maybe I will,” she says, almost demure, like he asked her on a date or something. (Did he? Ask her on a date?) She looks just past him, and when he follows her gaze it lands on a bulletin board by the door. “Maybe you should swing by with a flyer or something.”
“Maybe I will.” Wow, two for two. He takes the box, reaches for his wallet. “I’ll watch that video, too, we’ll call it even—”
Her hand is on his before he can even pull out his card. And it isn’t until after she’s pushed his wallet back toward him that it finally registers that she’s touched him. “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “It’s on the house. Just bring the flyer, and then we’ll call it even.”
Luka looks between her and the box a number of times, too many questions on his tongue to get any of them out. Why is she being so nice to him? why does she insist on giving him things he hasn’t worked for, or finding loopholes to prove that he did work for it? Is she flirting with him? Or does she pity him? Or is she just being nice because he’s one of her parents’ regulars? Or does she… does she, maybe…
He holds his breath, and searches her eyes, and gets lost in the music he’s still sort of trying to place. He slips his wallet into his back pocket all the same, and he takes the box from her, and it’s ridiculous how fiercely he wishes he could feel her fingers brush the back of his hand again. “You got a deal,” he murmurs—mentally kicks himself for sounding so out of touch. He backs out of the store like it’s illegal to tear his eyes away; it feels like it is, when she’s smiling at him like that. The Not For Customers smile.
Admittedly, he wonders if she ever gave Adrien Agreste that smile, once upon a time.
Maybe he shouldn’t have wondered, because his back bumps right into the door, and the bell above it jingles as though it’s annoyed. But Marinette isn’t; in fact, she giggles behind a hand, and she gives him a little wave like she’s going to keep the memory safe in the pocket of her apron. He manages a weak laugh, and a wave of his own, and then he’s stumbling out the door and walking his bike to the first open bench he can find. He needs to sit down. Put his head in his hands for a while.
Because he thinks she just flirted with him. And he thinks he flirted right back. And he knows she just touched him, in spite of everything she told him about Adrien, in spite of him being right. There. And it’s all finally, finally sinking in, and the world is spinning in a way he’s not really used to, and…
Maybe he just needs a sugar boost.
Shaking his head and sighing, he pops the seal on the pastry box, fully prepared to find a half dozen napoleons inside. There aren’t—only two pastries.
One napoleon.
And one pear tart.
His heart stutters. Makes up for how he didn’t before.
That’s how it gets him.
hey mom? mr. president? deity of indeterminate gender?
how do i go about legally changing my name to Music Man?
you know. hypothetically.
#miraculous ladybug#lukanette#luka couffaine#marinette dupain cheng#fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass#oh boy.
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Law is still Shichibukai (for some reason) and meets with the others including Mihawk for government business or something. He learns he had a relationship with Zoro during the 2 years. Even though Law is in a relationship with him now Mihawk & Zoro never really ended theirs officially so Law gets jealous and competative
Right, I have to pass out. But here is part one of three of this magical tale.
Oh thank God someone else has thought of this because I think about this SO MUCH. Like, "what are you even doing with your life?" / "Oh, you know, mostly trying to set up a Mihawk/Zoro/Law love triangle." / "..... Just WHY?"
Because it'd be super hot that's why.
One dude whose super possessive, one who hates losing and one who's totally obvious to all that shit. are you kidding me? That was made for fanfic glory.
I don't know if I can do such a delicious thing justice in a "let's see if I remember how words work" post, but damn right I'll try it.
It's 2020. The world needs this you guys. And hopefully it inspires others to look deep within themselves and realize the Mihawk/Zoro/Law triangle was inside them all along.
To War Over You
"Why do I have to be here again? No offense, Torao, this whole thing sounds boring as hell."
Law closes his eyes and draws a deep breath; the best way to deal with any of the Strawhat crew if you didn't want it to end in bloodshed and a broken alliance. "Did you not understand the first three times I went over the situation, Zoro-ya? I don't know if I can explain it in any simpler terms without resorting to coloring books and grade school lessons."
It may have been a little snippy, but for as confidently as he struts down the hallways of the naval base just those side of Marie Joice, Law could never get use to having marines on either side, standing at every doorway, eyeing him suspiciously as they walk past him in the halls. He'd seen what these men would do given the orders or the chance, so despite how well he could hide behind a haughty mask and arrogant demeanor, Law can't help feeling once more like a frightened child on the run from these very same men.
He had fully expected to have to lead Zoro through the whole parade, tell him not to jump at the sight of every uniform (as is still, deep down, Law's immediately response) but the other swordsman comes off as almost entirely unaffected. He makes eye contact with passing marines as if daring them to question his presence or better yet try something. He doesn't even have a hand on his sword, a sure sign of the boy's nervousness. He walks next to Law, appearing utterly calm and unafraid and, well, bored.
It's giving Law a headache to be honest. Could one if the Strawhats even pretend to behave like normal pirates?
When Zoro's shoulder bumps against Law's he wonders, fleetingly, if this this is the part where Zoro finally admits how paranoid this whole scene leaves him.
They walk past a pair of marines like that, Zoro leaning into his shoulder practically hanging off Law, and neither men blinks an eye. In fact, they make a point of not even glancing up at the passing pirates, their conversation going quiet and their eyes locked to the floor until they've past. That's been the case more and more this visit; a complete change from the first time Law had been invited where even privates and ensigns felt confident enough to give him bad looks, expressions that clearly asked what one of his kind was doing there.
Zoro also waits until the heavy steps of the two marines are mostly out of earshot before he leans, somehow, even closer. Until Law can feel the boy's hot mouth up against his skin, heating the metal hoops in his ear. "I'm so sorry oh powerful warlord," Zoro teases because, since it really occured to him that Law is a Shichibukai - and apparently one the government is desperate to keep on their side - he couldn't seem to stop himself from mocking the title. If it were any other pirate, Law could have chopped them into parts and been done with it, but for whatever reason he allows the vice captain of the straw hats to get away with such insults. "I must have been distracted at the time."
Ah, yes. That's why.
Law ducks his head, as if attempting to hide a smirk as they go by another three marines - ensigns based on their uniforms and the way their eyes go wide before they scurry past. Ah, well, at worst they'll think he's planning something big, something illegal (which he is, though not for a while) though more than likely they'll just think that's how pirates are. Cocky and unafraid.
Law doesn't mind the reputation.
Of course, if they knew the real reason Trafalgar Law, pirate captain, worst generation, and Shichibukai looked so damn smug they probably would have hurried by all the faster.
Is it his fault that there is something so pleasing about taking a man with the reputation of Roronoa Zoro and having him on his knees and begging? Law can't help the spark of pride knowing that while most others couldn't even halt Zoro's steps were he determined to get by, Law could leave him sprawled out, exhausted, panting on the bed after being made to come a fourth time and yet in two hours he'd crawl into Law's lap, needy and impatient and wanting anything the older pirate would give him.
It's enough to make any man a little conceited. After all, how many can say they've reduced the pirate hunter to such a desperate state?
Law has every right to feel proud.
Still nearly climbing on top of Law even as they walked, Zoro takes the other man's ear in his mouth, tongue first warming the metal and then teeth pulling at the earrings. Law really should make him stop; they must have all sorts of surveillance inside the base. But he just can't find it in him to do more than find the most obvious of the recording snails stuck to the walls, offering it and whoever is lucky enough to be watching a cocky smile.
And because Zoro, like the most crew, doesn't seem to understand the idea of subtle, he follows the bite up with, "I guess having you fuck my mouth interests me more than some political bullshit. Hard paying attention to all this useless junk when your buried that deep in my throat."
It's not romantic. It's hardly even sexy. And yet even as Zoro slides back into his own space, Law can feel something in his gut start to tighten, to want. It had been such a mistake to bring the swordsman along, he should have known better.
Only he'd received a hint from a certain high ranking, unnamed inspector general that the navy knew he was harbouring at least some of the Straw hats on his ship (However did they find that out, Zoro-ya? Maybe if you didn't insist on fighting every battle ship you saw). He would still be expected to attend the meeting, of course, but if he did show up they would certainly search his ship for the pirates and, failing that, likely charge him all the same. Especially after they couldn't use the Doflamigo incident against him, in part thanks to Issho's very live, very unscripted broadcast.
It seemed obviously to Law that their best option is to claim these straw hats had made the decision to work under him (some more literally than others) which only left the matter of which one to bring, to show Law isn't afraid of their suspicious.
Robin could lie very well and would have easily been the best choice, except she was just as likely to stand in front of some of the top ranked marines and inform them that, in fact, she is still and will always be a Strawhat. And she'd say it with a smile. Franky... Well, no. Franky wouldn't last two minutes into an interrogation. Usopp could lie, but there's a chance he'd over do it, or simple break down at the sight of so many marines.
No, Zoro had been his best choice, which is a condemnation of his chooses really. He's just hoping the vice captain will be able to clentch his teeth and get through it.
As added incentive, Law made plenty of promises.... And threats. Depending, of course, on Zoro's ability to behave.
"What's the point of even calling you out here?" Zoro asks in an entirely casual tone, as if he hadn't just described sucking Law off. "Not like the government acts wants your opinion on anything."
Law has to admit Zoro's right, but after the near catastrophe at Dressrosa, Law is trying to play ball. If they haven't expelled him yet it's because they need something from him, and Law is determined to find out what. "Just do as I tell you and don't make a scene," Law says, knowing those two instructions are impossible for any strawhat to follow, perhaps especially this one. "So long as you don't-"
Suddenly, Law is no longer looking at Zoro but at the plain walls of the military base. Confused, he looks back to see Zoro has come to a stop in the middle of the hall. There is a dangerous grin pulling at his lips, one that Law would definitely be afraid of of he hadn't seen it so many times right before Zoro swallowed him whole. Now it just makes him lose his breath a little too fast, the heat in his gut pours through the rest of him, becoming something he can't control.
Expect Zoro isn't looking his way at all.
"Hawkeye," Zoro says simply, and while his voice is harsh his expression certainly isn't. "I forgot they still recognize you as a Shichibukai. When I defeat you then, do I get that title as well?"
Law jerks to look back so abruptly he feels a little sick, but sure enough there he is; fellow Shichibukai and world's greatest swordsman. A title that Law knows Zoro coverts, perhaps explaining the gleam in his eyes as he stares down the other swordsman. Though Law would have expected it to hold more.... Hostility. Instead, despite the seriousness of his tone and the challenge in his eyes, Zoro's lips keep twitching, unable to completely hide the a smile.
He's probably just happy to get this chance at a rematch. Not that Law is about to let that happen in the middle of a marine base. Zoro may be less than cautious and driven by his heart rather than solid reason, but he isn't that crazy.
.... Is he?
"Roronoa," Mihawk greets him formally and, again, his voice even and devoid of humour, and yet the older Shichibukai does nothing to hide his smile. "How strange to see the rabbit has wandered so far from its burrow."
Zoro wrinkles his nose before deciding to go for something slight more intimidating. "I told you not to call me that." He might try and pass it off as a growl, but honestly he sounds like a pouting child. It's cute, in a way.
In the way that it would have been cute, if it had been for Law.
Mihawk's smirk grows more amused, more cocky at Zoro's reply. "I seem to recall you didn't mind at times." Mihawk's long strides eat up the room between him and Zoro in a matter of seconds, and before Law even thought to be on guard the older man is leaning down, whispering something for only Zoro to hear.
Law may not know what exactly is said, but he recognizes the flush in the other boy's cheeks, the way his eyes go wide before falling half closed as he rocks, almost consciously, up onto his toes and closer to the one teasing him.
It's a state he's enjoyed putting the swordsman in in the past, one he's never had to witness as a third party.
When Mihawk has finished, Zoro is just a touch too pink and too breathless for Law's comfort. But it's the smirk on the older swordsman's lips when he pulls away that makes Law clench his fist and bite doesn't hard. If they weren't at this base, he's fairly certain nothing, not even his intelligence or will to survive, could stop him from casting a room and cutting Mihawk's heart out. At the least.
It's only after Mihawk has had his fun with Zoro that he looks up, his sharp golden eyes falling on Law. Law can only remember one other time the master swordsman has graced him with so much as a vague consideration; when he'd first arrived here, a newly appointed warlord. Mihawk had merely regarded him with nothing more than a passing glance before declaring he had more important things to attend to and making a swift, unapologetic exit.
Now, though, his eyes seem to study Law like he's preforming a dissection, seeing parts of him that Law would have thought impossible to see.
"Trafalgar," Mihawk uses the same even tone as he had with Zoro, only lacking in any signs of warmth as he had with Zoro. "I see you decided to join us after all." Before Law can point out that he could hardly deny the summon he had been sent, Mihawk's eyes are back on Zoro. "Am I to believe the rumours of you abandoning your captain are true then, Roronoa?"
Before Zoro can ruin their cover (Law can see it in his face and feel the aura around him, this refusal to deny his captain) Law is quick to leap in. "Zoro-ya is under me now, if that is what you're asking," Law snaps, perhaps with more bite than is necessary. And if his words can be taken more than one way, well, that's really up to the listener to decide. "Otherwise, why would I entrust him to accompany me to this summit?"
#ask and you shall receive#the zolaw au nobody asked for#zoro x law#zoro x mihawk#one piece#one piece au#one piece fanfiction#mizo#zolaw
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ACE SHOULD BE IN JAIL
TAGGED BY: @iiryoku ( thank you lovely! )
TAGGING: @regensia ( Koby ) - @viciousbite ( Michi ) - @ephxmerall ( Marco ) - @akagamiko
Rules: Mark the ones you’ve done. Use your result as your post title. Please, repost and don’t reblog!
modern verse
[ x ] smoked [ x ] consumed alcohol [ x ] slept in the same bed with someone of the opposite sex [ x ] slept in the same bed with someone of the same sex [ x ] kissed someone of the same sex [ x ] had sex (in this one he’s not a big virgin) [ x ] had someone in your room other than family [ x ] seen porn ( pirate life sucks hard dude ) [ ] bought porn [ ] tried drugs
TOTAL: 6
[ x ] taken painkillers [ ] taken someone else’s prescription medicine [ x ] lied to your parents [ ] lied to a friend [ x ] snuck out of the house [ x ] done something illegal [ x ] felt hurt [ x ] hurt someone [ x ] wished someone to die [ x ] seen someone die
TOTAL: 14
[ x ] missed curfew [ x ] stayed out all night [ x ] eaten a carton of ice cream by yourself (if it was only ice cream) [ ] been to a therapist (lol boy he should) [ x ] received a ticket [ ] been to rehab [ ] dyed your hair ( unwillingly ) [ x ] been in an accident [ x ] been to a club [ x ] been to a bar
TOTAL: 20
[ x ] been to a wild party (many!) [ x ] been to a Mardi Gras parade [ x ] drank more than three alcoholic beverages in a night (he met Shanks unfortunately) [ ] had a spring break in Florida [ ] sniffed anything [ x ] wore black nail polish [ x ] wore arm bands [ ] wore t-shirts with band names (t... t-what?) [ x ] listened to rap (he listens to everything)
TOTAL: 26
[ x ] dressed gothic [ x ] dressed girly (strip-tease does count?) [ x ] dressed punk [ x ] dressed grunge [ x ] stole something [ x ] been too drunk to remember anything [ x ] blacked out [ x ] fainted [ ] had a crush on a neighbour
TOTAL: 34
[ x ] had a crush on a friend [ x ] been to a concert [ x ] dry-humped someone; been dry humped [ x ] been called a slut [ x ] called someone a slut. [ ] installed speakers in a car [ x ] broken a mirror [ x ] showered at someone of the opposites sex’s house [ x ] brushed your teeth with someone else’s toothbrush
TOTAL: 42
[ ] considered Ludacris your favorite rapper? [ x ] seen an R-rated movie [ x ] cruised the mall [ x ] skipped school [] had surgery [ x ] had an injury [ ] gone to court [ x ] walked out of a restaurant without paying/tipping (his favorite sport) [ x ] caught something on fire. [ x ] lied about your age
TOTAL: 49
[ x ] owned/rented an apartment/house [ x ] broke the law in the police’s marine’s presence [ x ] made out with someone who had a GF/BF [ x ] got in trouble with the police marines [ x ] talked to a stranger [ x ] hugged a stranger [ x ] kissed a stranger [ x ] rode in the car with a stranger [ x ] been harassed [ x ] been verbally harassed
TOTAL: 59
[ ] met face-to-face with someone you met online [ ] stayed online for 5+ hours straight [ ] talked on the phone for more than 4 hours straight [ ] watched TV for 5 hours straight [ x ] been to a fair [ x ] been called a bad influence [ x ] drank and drove [ x ] prank-called someone [ x ] laid on a couch with someone of the opposite sex [ x ] cheated on a test
TOTAL: 66
If you have 00-10 … write [I’m a goody-goody] If you have 11-20 … write [I’m still a goody-goody] If you have 21-30 … write [I’m average] If you have 31-40 … write [I’m a bad kid] If you have 41-50 … write [I’m a very bad influence] If you have 51-60 … write [I’m a horrible person] If you have 61-70 … write [I should be in jail] If you have 71-80 … write [I should be dead] If you have 81-90 … write [I got a ticket to Hell]
#⌇playing all the aces on the table ( 𝙈𝙚𝙢𝙚 )#⌇in the name of the family ( 𝘼𝙘𝙚 | modern verse )#⌇portrait ( 𝘼𝙘𝙚 )#; OMG BAD BAD MAN#; the meme was funny :3 thank you
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My Invincible Hero
(Just a experiment to see if these two properties work together for a crossover.)
The new dorms at U.A. Heights were a real change of pace for Mako, he had moved to Japan when he was so young that he barely remembered what it was like back in America. And they had always lived in their house since moving here that living at a dorm was.....ironically, alien to him. Not that it wasn’t bad or anything! Class 1A living together under one roof was, as he expected a blast, case in point the first night they all showed off their own rooms.
Still can’t believe Izuku still has all that All Might Merch......well not like I’m one to talk. he thought, leaning out from his desk chair to look at the bookshelf beside his door containing his massive comic book collection. His room was, in his eyes, very comfortable, he and his mom found a nice table set with comfortable cushions to sit down on that easily slid under his bed. Though he didn’t have a mini kitchen setup like Sato, no wonder he won their little room coemption.
Thank god we didn’t look in Mineta’s room.....uggghhhh. he thought with a sour expression. Looking over his completed homework, he stood up from his desk and looked outside the balcony window to his room. It was turning to dusk now but for Mako it might have well have been afternoon, he could easily towards the west until it was afternoon over in America if he wanted.
Looking over at his door, he saw his costume hanging up on a hook, the black, yellow, and blue costume hung up on a hook with his mask also looped around it, his gloves and boots were kicked off to the side after a long day doing some work for the GDA. After his dad.......left.....someone needed to fill in for him, and bypassing a hero license with Global Defense Agency’s license was easy for someone like the head of the organization. But it was nice to get back to school life for a few days.
Before the hero licensing exams that is, I’m still not sure why I need to take it considering I’ve been doing that sort of work for little over a year now. he thought as he walked out of his room. Just in time to see Kaminari rush by, “Hey man, what’s up?” he asked the electric user as he lifted up off the ground a few inches and floated after him.
“Oh! Hey Mako! You wouldn’t happen to have some popcorn would you?” he asked.
“Uhhh.....no? Why?” he asked in confusion as they stopped in front of the elevator.
The static user gave him a look, “Dude it’s movie night!” he reminded the fellow student. Mako wanted to kick himself, it was Friday night, of course it was movie night!! He was the one who suggested it in the first place! And it was also his turn to pick a movie!!! “Crap! Sorry, right. Yeah, um....no, don’t have any. But I’m gonna fly out, I can pick some up while I’m out.” he offered.
The spikey haired blonde clapped his hands together and bowed his head in thanks, “Your a lifesaver man!” he said, turning back the way he came as the doors to the elevator opened and Izuku walked and smiled to him in greeting.
“Hey Mako, I was about to do some training real quick, want to join me?” he offered.
When Izuku’s quirk finally kicked in, Mako was probably up there with his friend with how excited he was for him. It took a while....and some broken bones, before he could actually train with Mako, but as soon as he could he was more then happy to. “Sorry, I gotta fly home, grab a movie and some popcorn for movie night. I totally forgot it was my turn this week.” he admitted.
The green haired inheritor have him a understanding look, “It’s ok, we can some other time.” he said acceptingly, making Mako let out a breath. “Um....are you ok?” he asked.
He nodded, “Yeah, yeah just......the whole move here kinda screwed with my whole.....thing. That make sense?” he asked as they both entered the elevator.
Midoriya nodded in understanding, out of all of their class, Mako was probably the most busy outside of school. “Well, if you need any help, you know that I’m ready to help!” he said with a smile of encouragement. Mako flashed him one back, whenever his role as Invincible interfered with his schoolwork, Izuku had been there to help him out.
“Thanks man. Any recommendations for movies?” he asked as the doors opened to the lobby area and the two friends walked out through the lobby. While not exactly a rule, it was recommended that a couple movies be presented as possibilities, so that way they had multiple options in case it was voted down. This was mainly due to Mineta wanting to recommend a movie that was most likely a skin flick from the title.
Izuku rubbed the back of his head unsurely, “Hmm, I don’t know....maybe a mystery movie?” he suggested.
Mako shrugged as they walked towards the doors of the dorm, as Izuku walked off towards the lawn to start training, Mako walked down the path towards the school for a few feet before courching down and launching himself into the air, flying a good ten stories up before adjusting his course and flying towards home.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After swinging by home, saying hi to his mom and grabbing some movies that he and his dad used to watch. Mako swung by a convience store to get some popcorn before flying back to U.A.
Wind blowing through his hair, he coasted through the sky as he let his momentum carry him. Contrary to what most people thought for people who flew without the use of some mutant type quirk, flying could tire you out, something Mako had learned early on when his powers started manifesting. If h wanted to he could be back to the school within a minute but decided to take his time and just relax.
That lasted for about then seconds before he heard a scream down from the ground.
Looking down he saw a gigantic man chase after a more norml sized one down the street, the giant man was three times the size of a normal person with viens all over his arms, chest, and neck popping out. Reminds me of guy Izuku fought at the training camp. he thought as he flew down towards the steeet, tossing his bag onto a rooftop before landing in font of the man, “Alright buddy what’s-” he started before the man’s arm reeled back.
“Uh pal I woudln’t-!” he started before he swung his arm and punched the side of Mako’s face with a loud crack.
It wasn’t from Mako.
“GAHHH!!!” The villain shouted as he clutched his now broken hand.
“Dude I tried telling you.” Mako replied, “Look I don’t know why your chasing that guy but I can’t let you hurt him.” he said as the large man held his hand.
“Why are you after me! That guy robbed my store!!” he explained. Mako turned down the street and saw the man, who mark noticed had a duffle bag in his hand, was running across a four lane intersection.
“Oh crap! Hang on.” he said before zooming over across the ground, grabbing the man by the bck of his shirt and flying back over to the muscle man.
“Hey! Let me go!” the smaller man shouted, he looked a little older then Mako, maybe his early twenties at most.
The muscular bald man pointed at him, “You stole from my safe you little punk! I oughta-” he started as he raised his unbroken hand.
Mako pulled him back, and raised a hand to try and calm him down, “Woah, woah, let’s calm down a second. Have you called the police?” he asked. The man nodded, “Ok then we can just wait for them to arrive to sort this mess out.” he reasoned. The man took a deep breath before raising his hands, “Why’d you punch me by the way?” he asked.
“Well I thought you were with him, I mean your around the same age so I thought you were his partner or something.” he explained.
Mako nodded in understanding, he could see ho he came to that conclusion.
“Hey you better let me go! I’ll report you for using your quirk illegally!!” The thief threatened.
“Dude I’m a hero.” Mako replied bluntly.
“What?! No your not! Your a normal guy!” he replied.
“I left my costume at my dorm, what do you think I wear it every time I go out? It’s not comfortable wearing something under normal clothes.” he replied before hearing a siren pull around the corner. After the patrolmen arrived, Mako showed them both his license and they promptly arrested the thief, as they put him in the back of the cruiser, Mako flew up to the roof where he tossed his bag before shooting across the sky back to U.A.
As he flew over the wall surrounding U.A. he started his decent when he noticed someone sitting down on one of the path benches. She had long blonde hair that went down her back and a pair of glasses over her light blue eyes that were looking down at the ground. She wore a coverall that was the same shade as her eyes with her name across the left lapel, Melissa Shield, the newest student of U.A.
“Hey!” he called out, she looked up in surprised and smiled as he flew down from the sky. Touching down gently on the ground, he smiled at her.
“Hey Mako, nice to see you again.” she greeted welcomingly, however he noticed the dour tone her voice had.
Melissa had begun attending U.A. after the I-Island incident, her old school was sad to see her go, but the blonde girl felt that U.A. was a good change after what happened with her father. She had met Mako and the others at the I-Island Expo, she started attending U.A. after All Might pushed for her to get a role in the support course, since her father was currently.....indisposed, All Might was her legal Guardian.
“You......doing ok?” he asked politely.
The american girl let out a sigh, “I’m.....managing.” he admitted. He gesuted to the seat beside her on the bench and she nodded.
“Well, if you want to rant or just talk, I’m here.” he offered jokingly.
She giggled at his offer, “No, it’s not that. Everyone here has been really welcoming to me. It’s just......a lot.” she admitted. “Moving from America to here was......well I know everyone is still adjusting to the dorms, but it’s.....well it’s a little more challenging then I thought it would be.” she told him.
Mako frowned, he had been thrown off balance by moving here but it was just a matter of time until he recovered. Melissa though, she had to move halfway across the world to be here, and that was after her father turned her world upside down. Man and here I am saying how rough I have it. My mom is just a short flight away. he thought scoldingly to himself.
“Yeah.....look, you know that all of us in Class 1A are here for you right? If you ever want to talk or something....” he offered, knowing that she got along well with all of the classmates she met at the I-Island expo.
The turned to him and gave him a confident smile, “Oh I know! It’s just....I don’t want to be a burden to anyone else by having them listen to my problems.” she explained.
He smiled, he could understood that. With all the crap he’s had to deal with the past year, keeping it to himself seemed like the best for a while. “Well hey, listening to problems is what a hero does. Hell earlier when I was coming back I had to listen to a couple problems before I could help.” he said, abridging the events of what happened. The blonde girl smiled softly at him, and Mako felt his stomach flutter from it.
“Thank you Mako......oh! I’m not keeping you am I?” she asked, realizing he was carrying something in his bag.
He shook his head, “Nah, we’re having a movie night and I needed to grab some flicks from my home.” he said, opening the bag and showing her the selection he picked.
Her eyes widened in excitement as she picked one out, “Oh I know this one!” she said, showing him the Dawn of the Dead movie he picked out.
She watched his face turn somber for a second, “Yeah. Me and my dad would watch that every year on my birthday.....” he said before smiling a little at the memory. Melissa felt a pang of guilt, what her fther had done for Uncle Might had been questionable at best, everyone knew what Mako’s father ahd done had been horrifying. But it was still HIS dad, she knew that as well as anyone. “Um....do you want to join us?” he offered.
Melissa was surpised by the offer but quickly smiled, “Of course! You don’t mind?” she asked.
He shook his head, “Nah, no one will. We’re starting at 9:30, be sure to be at the dorm by then.” he said as they both got up.
Melissa smiled and nodded, “I’ll be there!” she said ecitedly as she walked away, “And....thanks for listening Mako.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Anytime.” he said before taking off into the sky and arching over to his dorm.
As he walked up to the door he felt his phone go of in his pocket. Pullig it out as he entered, he saw the caller I.D. and frowned, answering it, he flew up the stairs to his room. “Hey boss, what’s the problem.”
‘You remember the Elephant?’
Mako paused as he opened and closed the door to his room, “Uhhh.....no?” he said unsurely.
‘Big guy, dresses up like....well-’
“Oh! Oh yeah that guy, man I always forget about him.” Mako admitted as he tossed off his shirt and pants and slipped his costume on. It was mostly black with the shoulders and upper torso being covered with a light blue that curved around his pectorals and upper back but ended on a sharp end on his shoulders. on his chest and over the blue was a yellow block that went down from his pectoals and tapered off to a point towards the navel.
‘Yeah everyone does, anyway the transport containing him on the way to Tartarus was hit. Heroes are on the way with Endevor leading them, but I don’t want them getting away. So you go as backup.’
Mako pulled on the knee high boots that were the same blue as his costume, along with the yellow fingerless gloves. “Gotcha, is he the only one? I mean it’s the Elephant so I can’t imagine you need a full transport for him.” he explained.
‘Yeah, you’d be right. Some new baddie who just popped up. Don’t know who he is, but we can’t ahve a loss right now after All Might retired.’
Mako grabbed his mask, a yellow head sock that had an opening for his hair around his head and coverd his eyes with white goggles. It also streched around his neck and the top of his shoulders, making a ‘i’ on the front of his costume. Opening his balcony, he cracked his neck before taking off into the air. “I read you.”
‘Thanks Mako, you sure your up for this I can call someone else if you still need some time to recover.’
Mako smiled to himself.
“Don’t worry Boss, you know me. I’m-”
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heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} 2
2. well that was many years ago, how would you see me now I've grown up (given up my video games)
Summary: When you’re fifteen, and your former babysitter’s on TV in one of the UK’s most successful soap operas, and is still decidedly hot, all you can remember is the advice he’d given you, and how he’d let you win when playing videogames.
A/N: 2780 words. ben’s not in this one persay, but we gotta set up y/n as this badass actress, ya know? y/n’s mother is mentioned but that’s it in terms of family. also i dub thee a theater kid. congratulations.
the mutant brotherhood: @daisy-lu @hervoidparadise @nedmjpeter @ultrunning @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @clementimee @that-fandom-sucks-tho @cjand10 @rest-is-detail @baileymae @rosesvioletshardy @onceuponadetectivedemigod @hazelstyles94 @bitchylittleredhead @bihemian-rhapsody @sweatyexpertgardenpanda @whereeverythingisbetter @dedxbed @xxencagedxx @glittrixvibe @a-girl-with-stress @sunflower-ben @pxroxide-prinxcesss @mrsmazzello @cubedtriangle @haileymorelikestupid @misscharlottelee @nevilles-insinuations @jovialcreatorkidtoad @brianmaysclog @sambuckywarrior @hey-yo-bedussey @bubblyanis @lifesciencesbois @elektraofcrete @diosanaz @bbdoyouloveme @kirstansworld @okilover02 @cardboardbenmazzello @dreashappyworld @juliarose21 @simonedk @greycuby @emmasunshiine @dinotje @qtrogerina @spiketacus @nympha-door-a @local-troubled-writer @emphatic-af @wh0a-thisisheavy @lustgardn @banginashton
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When you’re fifteen, you have your first kiss on stage with a boy named Andrew; he’s a year older than you, has been in more shows than you, and has a boyfriend, Jamie, though they both seem entirely endeared by you. You buy each other flowers on opening night, after becoming fast friends in rehearsals.
It’s your first lead role on stage, though you’ve been in a few commercials in past year, and had callbacks for a bit part in two different TV shows that ended up going to someone else. Since expressing interest in pursuing acting as a career, your parents had been nothing but supportive, their only stipulation that you still need to finish high school. So between school and auditions and rehearsals, you don’t have much time for crushes; sure there’s a boy in the ensemble, who you’re pretty sure is named Ashton, with fluffy blonde hair, and eyes that look green at the right angle, but he also lives off of Monster energy drink. He may be pretty, but he’s got the personality of a damp rock.
But he’s not your first kiss, Andrew is.
“You know Ashton’s got three braincells in total, right?” Andrew’s laying on the floor of your dressing room, makeup done, costume half on, watching in the mirror as you apply your foundation, “what do you see in him?”
“Him-” you started, but Andrew groaned loudly.
“Himbos need to respect women, Y/N, Ashton is not a himbo,” though at his exasperation, you can’t help but be amused.
“He’s pretty,” is all you can manage in your own defence, wearing a sheepish little smile, and Andrew wrinkles his nose. His phone goes off and he checks the message.
“Jamie’s almost here,” he told you with a slight smile, and you two share a fond smile. Jamie comes baring iced drinks and you both praise him as your lord and saviour.
“Do you think Ashton’s cute?” Andrew asks as he’s eating the whipped cream from the top of his iced coffee.
“Is this a test?” Jamie replies, wearing the slightest frown, but Andrew shakes his head.
“Y/N thinks he’s cute, even though he’s always three beats behind -”
“Whether or not he can dance doesn’t effect how he looks!” You argued, and Andrew raised his nose in the air defiantly.
“It does to me,” but then he’s grinning, turning to gaze to Jamie, who’s deliberating and swirling his peach iced tea with a faintly fond smile.
“The blonde one playing the jock?”
“That’s him,” Andrew confirms, and Jamie hums.
“He looks like acid wash jeans.”
A confused silence follows.
“What does that mean?” You frown, but as Andrew considers it, he comes to agree, “okay, but do you think he’s cute?”
“He’s perfectly conventionally attractive,” Jamie finally settles on, “but not my type.” And he gives Andrew a coy smile, knocking their shoulders together, they’re painfully endearing, but Jamie’s brought up a thought that you hadn’t wanted to consider.
When had your type become pretty, blonde boys?
Your answer comes less than three days later, on closing night, your mother’s watching TV before she drives you to the theatre. It’s Eastenders, a soap opera you know from your mother’s fanaticism with it, aware only of it’s longevity and it’s sometimes outlandish moments.
“Y/N, come in here a moment,” you mother calls, “they’ve recast Peter.”
“You know I don’t know who that is,” you tell her with gentle exasperation, but obligingly join her in the living room.
“What was the name of your old babysitter?” You mother’s squinting at the screen, watching a pretty blonde boy you think you recognise talking to a girl who you’re pretty sure is one of the leads.
“Maddy?”
“No, the boy who helped out when Maddy wasn’t available,” and you follow your mother’s gaze to the television, heart beating in your throat as you realise why she’s asking.
“Ben -?” You say, as if you haven’t committed his name to your memory.
“Ben!” She announces with a clap, getting to her feet with enthusiasm, “doesn’t the new Peter look remarkably like him?” She asked, getting as close to the TV as possible, looking a little eerie in it’s glow.
“I think that is him,” you say, throat going dry, and your mother goes quiet.
“No,” she says softly with a frown, “you think so? Really?” And you’re already pulling out your phone and checking IMDB.
“Ben Hardy,” you confirmed with a nod, trying not to let it show how much this information had left you shaken.
“But -” your mother turns to you, “he’s Keith and Ange’s kid; Hardy? That’s not...?”
“I dunno, mum, maybe he changed his name, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same person.”
“He was always such a lovely kid,” she mused, “you used to love spending time with him,” she sighed wistfully, and you contemplate how long it would take you to just walk to the theater, which you’d much prefer to having to listen to your mother waxing poetic about how successful your first crush had become. But you decide it’s not worth it, and thankfully she doesn’t mention it much in the car.
“Andy I’m in distress,” you bemoan your costar the moment you step into hair and makeup that night. Andrew struggles not to smile as the makeup assistant is applying his contour.
“What’s wrong?” He asks after she steps back, and you spin in your chair to face him while the head of the makeup team was collecting everything she’d need for your look.
“I know why I like Ashton,” you admitted, and Andrew raised an eyebrow in silent question. The makeup assistant paused, giving a playful ‘ooh’ to the announcement. As the leads, the pair of you had been called early to make sure you were all ready for the show before the rush of ensemble members were getting into hair and makeup, so you were the only two cast members around, and felt safe discussing this so openly. The crew were old enough to know not to gossip with the cast.
“So it turns out my type is just this one dude who used to babysit me back when I was like, twelve,” you grumble, and turn back to face the mirror at the makeup artist’s insistence.
“And what made you realize this?” Andrew prompted diligently.
“Because I saw him on TV,” you sighed, closing your eyes as your makeup routine began. But there was silence all around, and someone cleared their throat awkwardly.
“Like on the news?” The makeup assistant asked tentatively.
“No, like on Eastenders,” you sighed; they weren’t quite sure if you were joking or not, “he went to my high school, graduated like two years ago.”
“Seriously?!” Andrew marveled, and you confirmed with a heavy sigh, “so why are you distressed?”
“Because I was perfectly happy forgetting about my stupid, twelve-year-old crush on him, but now he’s on my mum’s favourite soap,” and you groaned in defeat, “which I’m now probably going to get invested in; it’s like a celebrity crush but worse.” You paused, “Andy, he let me win at videogames and gave me acting advice; I still think about him sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, “I don’t usually know my celebrity crushes personally,” it was clear he was both trying to be supportive, and trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“It’s going to kill me,” you said with an air of resignation.
“What’s his name?”
“Ben Hardy,” there was a pause after your words, and the telltale noise of typing on a phone, and then Andrew made a noise of approval.
“He’s mad fit.”
“I know,” you agreed with a whine, to which your costar snorted a laugh.
“You’ll be okay, I promise,” he assured, and clicked his phone off, settling back in his chair as his hat for the show was brought over and pinned in place, “and I can see why you fancy Ashton now.”
“Ashton doesn’t hold a candle to Ben- damn you Eastenders!” You moaned, playing up your distress for the amusement of the others in the room, which you appreciated, but it’s all you said on the topic for the night, though it barely leaves your mind when you’re not on stage.
At the afterparty, you learn that Ashton kisses with too much tongue, and tastes like grape vape, but he compliments your performance in the show and in the moment, that’s all you really care about. It’s a thoroughly underwhelming experience all in all, but it also manages to feel something like a cathartic release.
You come to a realization, several days later, that you’d never thought you’d have; it’s incredibly difficult to watch Eastenders online, legally or illegally it doesn’t matter, because the legal site costs money which you don’t want to spend, and no-one’s put up the entire series illegally. You can find episodes here and there, but they are one-offs from anywhere between 2005 and now, and no-one’s got the newest episodes anyways.
There’s barely an Eastenders fandom online, a thought you’d never imagine having before now, and so you just end up watching it nightly with you mother, when you can. Except as life gets busier and you’re rehearsing for plays and musicals and eventually, shows, and eventually you’re studying for your GSCEs, and you don’t have time for a soap opera you’re only partially invested in.
You get your big break in the Summer before your A-levels when you score a part in Snowpiercer, so you spend several weeks in Prague, and you’re sharing scenes with Captain Fucking America Chris Evans, and Jamie Bell, and Octavia Spencer –
Oh, you realize faintly as you’re getting your makeup done for the day, I’m becoming someone.
You’re at a critical juncture in your life, in your career, one you’re afraid you haven’t earned your way to, especially not so fast. You have two options; step on the breaks and let someone else get the roles and the life you want, or you can commit to the bit, to the life and reputation you’re building for yourself.
Fall back or follow through.
Snowpiercer earns you the title of One to Watch, and by late 2014, you’re halfway through your final school year, you’ve studios asking you to audition left and right. In the brief Winter break between terms, you’re called in to audition for a project for Sony, but they couldn’t tell you which. You knew it was a superhero movie, but that’s all.
A month later, only a few days into 2015, you wake up to three missed calls from your agent, thousands of Twitter notifications, approximately twenty texts from your friends. Downstairs, your mother was making breakfast and humming along to the radio, which she only did when she was in a fantastic mood.
It takes all your self control to not look at social media, and instead call your agent back.
He’s got two words for you.
“X-Men Apocalypse.”
You scream.
Next, of course, comes Twitter, which is a mix of supportive and unsurprisingly derisive. Your casting is polarizing, mainly because you haven’t been in a lot of films, and a majority of your work had been in theater; you look the part, but people are skeptical of your talent.
Speaking of the part, you’ll be playing Cassidy Temple, also known as Riot Control, who it turns out is a villain. Not the main villain, they’ve got Oscar Isaac playing Apocalypse himself, and holy shit, you’re going to be working with Oscar Isaac, but apparently you’re the second of the Horsemen to be announced.
Riot Control was a villain from an arc of the same name back in the late 90s, though she’d appeared earlier in Apocalypse’s first comic arc under the name Crowd Control, most notable for being the original Pestilence Horseman, who had a relationship with Archangel, the then-Horseman of Death. After Apocalypse’s death, she retained the power he’d imbued her with, and went on to be the first mutant to fuse with a symbiote, Riot, which is how she’d earned the name Riot Control, and ended up killing Havok; it took the whole X-Men team to take her down, and only then thanks to Jean Grey.
You’d never considered yourself playing a villain, but you couldn’t help but be a little thrilled at the prospect. Looking at images of Cassidy, you can’t help but be a little shocked as to how much she looked like you, right down to the shape of her eyes; the resemblance was uncanny.
At least ten of the twenty texts you’d received from your friends were from Jamie and Andrew, cheering for you and already planning a party. A few friends from school were asking if the announcement was really about you, followed by a ton of excited emojis, and Merissa had left the sweetest voice message, telling you how proud she was of you.
This was big. This was talking with your mother about dropping out of school right before your A-levels, this was talking with Sony about hiring a tutor so you could finish your schooling on-set, this was updating your passport and visa and realizing you’re not just a little kid, playing pretend on stage anymore.
Over the next few days, you’re in meetings with your agent and executives from Sony and Marvel, signing contracts, and attending the kind of blow out party Jamie and Andrew had planned.
“Don’t forget us when you’re all famous,” Jamie, a little tipsy and sentimental, clings to you in the early hours of the morning during the party as it’s winding down, and you’re both half-watching X-Men Origins: Wolverine in the living room of his and Andrew’s little flat.
“I won’t,” you assure him, hugging him tightly back, “I promise.” And he makes a hum of contentment, before announcing that the movie was stupid. It was, but you kind of liked it.
“Jam, don’t hog her!” Merissa announced from the door, and Jamie stuck his tongue out at her; it was a small blessing that your friends from your varying friend groups had managed to get along so well. Merissa crowded you from the other side, squeezing beside you on the sofa and leaning against you, her nose against your cheek.
“I’m gonna miss you guys,” you say into the warm silence of the early hours, and Merissa kisses your cheek in an unspoken ‘we’re gonna miss you too’.
“Nah,” Jamie mused, “you’ll be off partying with your cool famous costar friends –“
“You gotta tell me what it’s like to hang out with Sansa Stark!” Merissa enthused, and your heart leapt into your throat.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Jamie said, as if it were common knowledge, “they announced Sophie Turner was going to be playing a young Phoenix right around the time they announced you,” he paused, frowning, “did you not –“
“I read it, but I never… I didn’t put two and two together.” You admitted, and the news has you reeling.
A few moments later, Andrew comes in from the kitchen to remind Jamie that he has work in the morning, and Jamie tells him that he’ll only go to bed if Andrew takes his place hugging you until the movie’s over. Andrew’s smile widens.
“I think I can manage that,” he agrees, and Jamie stands with a yawn, giving Andrew a kiss before instructing him to not let go. You settle in between Andrew and Merissa, and once the movie’s over, Merissa’s asleep on your shoulder, and Andrew murmurs that he can drive you home if you want. The sun’s almost coming up.
“Can you put on Days of Future Past again?” You ask quietly, sheepish and hopeful in equal measure, and Andrew agrees, and gets you a glass of water, and a blanket. When prompted, Merissa wakes enough so that she can shift on the surprisingly spacious sofa, happy enough to cuddle against you when Andrew tucks the blanket around you both.
“Can’t wait until I’m putting on your DVD –“
“I gave you a copy of Snowpiercer,” you told him, and his expression goes soft.
“True,” he agrees, “but I’ve got a good feeling about this next one,” and you think you know what he means. This is big.
“You’re gonna do great, Y/N, you always do.”
Just over a month later, after your contract had been finalized and you were sent the most up-to-date version of the script, you awoke again to a ton of Twitter notifications, and a single text from Andrew.
The text simply read [👀👀👀] and had a link to a Variety article entitled ‘Ben Hardy joins the cast of Apocalypse’.
#ben hardy#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy fanfiction#ben hardy fanfic#queen#borhap#borhap cast#borhap cast imagine#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody cast#bohemian rhapsody cast imagine#xmen apocalypse#xma#the angry lizard writes
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Breakeven
hey i got a prompt about writing a AU fic about amelink at a highschool party. i dont write a ton of AUs but i thought this might be fun.
Link’s eyes flicked around the room searching for his girlfriend. He wasn’t used to showing up to parties but tonight he was worried. He trusted Amelia wholeheartedly. Although they weren’t in the same social circles, he never worried about her cheating. He was worried because Amelia’s friends sucked. Which was a nice way to put it. It’s not that Link didn’t like drinking, that he could justify occasionally. But drugs scared him. And the drugs that Amelia’s friends got into were next level. As if on cue his phone lit up as he received a text from Mrs. Shepherd. “Hi Atticus, sorry to bother you. Was just wondering if you were with Amelia tonight? I haven’t heard from her.” Link shook his head, of course she didn’t tell her family where she was going.
“Hey, have you seen Amelia?” He tugged at Alex’s shirt sleeve.
“Hey man!” Alex grinned, clearly intoxicated. “Amelia says she’s been trying to get you to come to one of these for ages.”
“Busy with school,” Link explained. “Have you seen her?” Out of Amelia’s friends Alex was probably Link’s favourite.
“I dunno,” Alex chuckled. “Saw her dancing on the dining room table probably half an hour ago. Hope she’s not with Jack, he’s always passing out something illegal.” Link grimaced, searching the room again.
“I’ll get him arrested.”
“Sure dude,” Alex patted his back. “She’s cute.” He motioned to a brunette who looked clearly out of place.
“She looks like a sophomore.” Link rolled his eyes. He muttered a quick thanks to Alex before pushing through bodies and entering the kitchen.
“Link!” April squealed, running up to greet him.
“Hi, April,” Link sighed. “Have you seen Amelia?”
“I think she went out to the laneway with the stoners,” April giggled. “Smoking is super nasty.” She fondled his shirt collar.
“Hey, quit it,” Link grumbled, fixing it himself. He said a quick goodbye as he opened the back door. He immediately recognized Jackson.
“Link!” Jackson greeted him loudly over the loud music. He passed him a beer.
“Oh, no thanks.” Link handed it back awkwardly. “I’m just here to pick up Amelia.”
Jackson’s face changed. “Oh yeah, she’s in the lane. She’s having like a bad trip or something.” “What did she have?”
“What didn’t she have,” one of the other guys laughed and took a swing of a can. Link cursed under his breath, pushing past the guys.
“The crazy ones are always the most fun,” Jackson called after Link, causing the guys, and some of the girls, to erupt into laughter.
“Amelia?” He called into the darkness.
“Link,” he could hear her mumble.
“I’m here babe,” he moved towards the sound of her voice and found her curled up in a ball, her hands covering her chest where her shirt had been clearly ripped. “Who did this? Was it Jackson?” Link was raging.
“I...I don’t remember,” Amelia responded quietly. “I’m sorry.” Link took her trembling body in his arms. “Be careful,” she whispered. “There’s spiders everywhere.”
“What?” Link looked around in confusion. “Oh.” Amelia was brushing her arms like a maniac. He looked away. She was decently good at hiding this part of her life from him. He knew an Amelia that was too smart for her own good and who would make him laugh until his stomach hurt. Most of the kids at their school knew her as the drug addict that crashed her brother’s car. It had been awhile since he’d seen her like this. “Can I take you home?” “No,” Amelia groaned.
Link shook his head. “My home.”
“Mom’s or dad’s?” She asked.
“Mom’s.” “I don’t want her to see me like this.” She shook her head, and stared at her arms in confusion. He could see the drugs slowly starting to wear off.
“She doesn’t care, Amelia. She would just want you to be safe.” Amelia’s expression softened. She’d grown remarkably close with his mother over the last couple of months. He figured it was because of her dysfunctional relationship with her own. “Yes she’s with me.” He texted Mrs. Shepherd back. “Sorry, we were watching a movie.”
“Okay, let's go home.”
Getting Amelia into and out of the car was a hassle. When it came to the front stairs Link gave up and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“We’re having sex tonight,” Amelia stated.
“No we most certainly are not,” Link replied, opening the front door.
“Link,” his mother’s voice rang from the kitchen. Link cursed, once again, under his breath. “Oh, Amelia,” she gasped as she caught sight of her. Amelia tried to hold her ruined shirt together. “Is she okay?” Link turned to Amelia who was looking down at the ground. He wasn’t sure if her eyes were still red from the night or because of the tears that were building in her eyes.
“She’s okay,” he sighed. “We’ll be upstairs.” “I can make tea,” his mother offered, desperately trying to make eye contact with Amelia in an attempt to comfort the miserable looking girl.
“I’m okay,” Amelia answered quietly. Link was surprised when his mother wrapped his arms around her, to which she collapsed into. “I’m okay,” she repeated.
“I know, dear. You two go upstairs and...get into some new clothes. I’m sure you have some lying around.” She winked at Amelia, alluding to her practically living at their house. Amelia nodded, quickly thanking her and making her way up the stairs. Link sighed, placing a hand on her hip for support and walking up slowly behind her.
“You’re still shaking,” he noted, as she crawled into his bed.
“I’m fine Link,” she replied. “The bad trips have been happening more frequently lately. I shouldn’t have taken whatever Jack was handing out.”
“Did he rip your shirt?” Link’s brow was furrowed in concern. She turned away.
“I honestly don’t remember.”
“Did he try anything? Cause I’ll kill him.” He shook her when she didn’t respond, his own anger surprising him. “Amelia. What happened?”
“I don’t know!” Suddenly she was sobbing. “I don’t know and I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Fuck,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why you go to these things.” “Because I’m addicted, Link,” she mumbled. “It’s all I can think about. Even right now, lying here with you. I just want drugs.”
“I can’t lose you,” he put simply. “If I hadn’t shown up, what were you going to do? Sleep in the alleyway and stumble home the next morning? Do you honestly think that would’ve been safe?” He felt tears threaten to fall down his cheeks.
“I don’t--”
“I’m in love with you. You know that right?” He broke their eye contact and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how much longer I can watch you do this to yourself, Amelia. I stay up at night imagining a future with you and then realize I could wake up the next morning and find out you’ve OD’d in a ditch somewhere.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
“Can you just do it for us then? For our future? Can you just try to get clean so I can imagine that someday we’ll be living in a big house with a truckload of kids?”
“Link there’s no way I can--”
“I’ll drive you to rehab.” He rolled over to look at her. “I will do it tomorrow. Please.”
“I don’t know how long--”
“I’ll wait.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She bit her lip, her troubled, stormy, blue eyes searching the ceiling as if it had an answer.
“Okay,” she finally answered. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her, burrowing his head in her neck and planting some soft kisses there. She closed her eyes imagining a big house and truckload of kids and slowly drifted off to sleep.
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Prompt 37? Futaba and Akechi platonic/Futago siblings?
37. “Follow me. It’s okay, just hold my hand.”
after akira leaves tokyo, futaba does just fine without her key item, except for when she doesnt.
(one of them AUs were goro survives the engine room and rejoins the phantom thieves. no i will not explain. persona 5 canon AND persona 5 royal do not interact. for reference in this universe futaba and akechi are half siblings but only akechi knows that)
*
“Next time you see me, I’ll be a whole new person,” Futaba tells Akira excitedly on his second-to-last day in Tokyo. “I’m going back to school, I’m out and about by myself—oh! Oh! Did I tell you I said yes to Kosei? I told Kosei I wanted to go to Shujin and they offered me scholarship! And I went to the subway station by myself yesterday!”
They’re crammed into Akira’s Leblanc attic, sitting around a cake that literally none of them were capable of baking themselves, so they’d bought the thing from a bakery and decorated it with little black and red hearts. Ryuji is passing around his gross soda, while Ann is recounting some story that doesn’t matter with incredible enthusiasm. Makoto looks like she’s determined to enjoy herself and will hear no argument.
The whole thing is incredibly morbid, if you ask Futaba. It feels less like they’re waiting for Akira to leave Tokyo and more like they’re attending Akira’s funeral. Akechi in particular looks like he’s regretting attending, which honestly tickles Futaba more than it should, that the most dishonest Phantom Thief seems to be the only one looking as honestly put-off by the entire affair as everyone else is determined not to be.
That’s everyone else’s problem. Futaba might not be happy Akira has to leave, but she’s proud. She’s sad that Akira has to leave, but also she promised Akira that by the time that he had to leave, she’d be able to get around on her own, without clinging to him for support. And she is able. She kept her promise.
Tomorrow might be the day that Akira has to go, but today is the day that Futaba is Officially Recovered.
Akira does that annoying thing he does where he puts his hand on her head and messes up all her hair, like he’s a human cat showing affection by pissing everyone off. Futaba yelps. “Look at you. You don’t need me at all.”
“I told you that I’d be ready to say goodbye by the time you had to go back to your hometown,” says Futaba. “I haven’t broken my promises yet, have I?”
There’s a burst of laughter from Haru over something Yusuke said, who looks rather surprised to discover that he said anything funny. Both Makoto and Akechi snicker at him, and then stop immediately to glare at each other the second they realize they’ve accidentally wound up sharing an opinion.
Akira ignores them. “Well, you can still text me if you need me. Or call.”
“I’m trying to tell you I’m getting better and I don’t need you,” Futaba grumbles. “Also, what kind of psychopath do you think I am to call someone on the phone?”
“That’s what phones are for.”
“Calling people is scary.”
“I thought you were getting better?” Akira teases.
“I am!” she says, pointing a finger at him. “I am! Just you watch, Akira. I’m getting better every day.”
*
Six months after joining Kosei, Futaba locks herself in her room and does not reemerge for seven days straight.
*
She tells Sojiro that she’s sick. Sojiro tells the school that Futaba told him that she’s sick. She definitely fakes a hell of a good cough, and the school lets Yusuke send her her all the homework that she was supposed to be doing in the first place, but Futaba already knows it’s only a matter of time before Sojiro rats on her, and she won’t even blame him because it’ll be for her own good.
In the meantime, she has stashes of crackers and peanut butter from back when she was a full-time hermit. She hates the taste of peanut butter within three days. Her bed is a relief, soft like a home she never left, up until it isn’t anymore. It’s too soft. No matter how she lies on it, no matter how soft it is, a mattress just isn’t comfortable when you’ve been lying on it for seventy-four hours. It’s hot. Smothering. She feels like she’s going to drown in the blankets and they’ll have to fish her moldy, sweaty corpse out of the bottomless quicksand pit of her too-soft mattress.
The thing about being a shut-in is that you don’t actually like your room very much. It’s not a relief, or an oasis, or even a place you enjoy. You’re just terrified of everywhere else more.
She plays a lot of video games that she doesn’t even like. She watches a lot of Twitch streamers she doesn’t even like. She doesn’t do her homework. She ignores Sojiro. She pretends she’s alright to everyone who texts. She wakes up and goes to sleep and thinks about going outside and goes to sleep and wakes up and wonders if the whole last year and her cautious baby steps back into the world outside was all just a hazy dream.
*
There aren’t a lot of Thieves left in Tokyo, weirdly. Haru and Makoto both graduated, off doing business and law junk that honestly makes Futaba’s brains want to crawl out her ears, but all the numbers check out and Haru’s not in the red yet, and Futaba’s looked at enough people’s dirty laundry to appreciate Haru’s clean ledger. Akira’s back in his dinky hicktown, where there’s barely anything electronic connected to Wifi worth breaking into for surveillance, which is really boring.
Ann’s been doing so many modeling gigs that she might as well not be attending Shujin anymore. She’s practically surrounded by electronics, and all of them are connected to the internet. On any given day, Futaba can snoop through the internet trail of electronic file cabinets full of images of her face, emails about her face, paychecks for her face. Futaba sends Ann more than one email about creepy old dudes making gross comments about her, along with a bunch of other illegal shit they’ve done, plus their offshore accounts full of cash if Ann wants Futaba to sic a lawyer on them.
Ann looks like she’s having fun. Ann looks different on the other side of the computer screen, like she’s less real. Like she’s not someone Futaba really knows. Like Ann’s not someone Futaba’s literally cried on at one point in her life.
Ryuji is definitely attending Shujin, but between physical therapy, catching up on a whole year of track, athletic scholarship hunting, and studying for college admissions tests, Ryuji seems to have been swallowed whole by Shujin, really. Out of boredom, one day, Futaba went down that rabbit hole of researching what it takes to get recruited for track in college, and holy shit–apparently Ryuji’s coach was supposed to be helping him with that whole process, but of course Ryuji barely has a proper coach ever since Kamoshida left Shujin’s track program in pieces. The amount of networking he’s doing is insane, especially for one teenaged boy who barely remembers his homework every night.
Sometimes, when Ryuji’s forgotten to check his email in a while and there’s a message from a coach sitting in his inbox, Futaba will send him a text to make him check it. And then it’s all, What were you doing looking at my emails, Futaba and Which of my other passwords do you know, Futaba, as if Ryuji doesn’t just use the same password over and over and has literally nobody but himself to blame.
So it’s really just Futaba, Yusuke, and–weirdly–Akechi, who’s off doing his gap year and said he was going to go abroad, but then he never did. Not to be a huge snoop, but Futaba went digging through his junk for about five seconds and then she never did it again, because she felt really weird about finding out that the guy that killed her mom is looking into social work, volunteerism, and reforming the justice system.
Like. The man who killed the Thieves’ leader is now literally out there saving orphans. It’s wild.
She might’ve been the one to tell Akechi that he can start over again and do better, but she reserves the right to at least feel weird about it.
She does not call Akira. She talks to Yusuke at school, but she refuses to ask him to accompany her on the subway. She should be recovered by now, shouldn’t she? She was supposed to have gotten over all that when Akira left Tokyo. She’s doing fine. She’s just looking out for her friends. Her, living vicariously through her friends, who’re growing up and growing away, flourishing into young adults? Never.
*
Everything is the same.
*
Didn’t she help kill a god last year?
Didn’t she work so hard to get out of her room, to make friends, to reconnect with Kana-chan?
Didn’t she work so hard to change herself?
Didn’t she help change the world?
*
Everything is the same.
*
Tuesday, 1:43 PM
YUSUKE: Futaba?
FUTABA: yo inari
FUTABA: u got more homework for me or what
YUSUKE: Ah, no.
YUSUKE: I think your teacher finds it suspicious that I’m sending you homework when I’m not in your grade, as it is.
FUTABA: oh no
FUTABA: what a shame that we didn’t have an entire year of experience with getting away with wildly illegal magic brain crimes without raising any suspicion
FUTABA: truly emailing me like four pieces of paper a day is far too difficult
YUSUKE: Well, I can’t get your homework from your teacher, but I can give you more homework if you’d like.
FUTABA: ok bucko that wasn’t a challenge
YUSUKE: There’s a math problem set that’s been incredibly dull to get through when I have more important pieces I could be working on…
FUTABA: inari im sorry to say but
FUTABA: me literally doing your homework for you is about a thousand times more illegal than you giving me my homework when ur not in my grade
YUSUKE: Oh, is it?
FUTABA: wh
FUTABA: are y
FUTABA: what do you mean OH IS IT
FUTABA: did you not KNOW ur not allowed to have other ppl do ur hw????
FUTABA: inari have u been making other people do ur hw for u so u can have more time to do art?????????
FUTABA: no shut up i dont want to know
FUTABA: i will not be ur accomplice
FUTABA: i see ur little speech bubble thingamajig yusuke i said stop typing forever and ever
YUSUKE: I can’t invite you to the art gallery tomorrow if I can’t type.
YUSUKE: It also seems impractical for you to outlaw me from texting forever.
FUTABA: i literally did not say that
YUSUKE: You said, and I quote,
YUSUKE: “Yusuke, I said stop typing forever and ever.”
FUTABA: ok i know it looks like i said that but please im begging u it’s literally just an exaggeration
YUSUKE: As Makoto would say, it’s hardly an enforceable law.
FUTABA: u literally texted my sick and crusty ass just to give me a hard time
YUSUKE: Are you about recovered from your cold?
FUTABA: and now u have the nerve to ask me to go to ur art show thing
YUSUKE: I didn’t say that.
FUTABA: oh really
FUTABA: what were u gonna ask me about then
YUSUKE: The art show, naturally.
YUSUKE: But you could have done me the courtesy of letting me ask.
FUTABA: all that on the day of my daughter’s wedding and now u want me to do u a solid
FUTABA: well i have news for u
FUTABA: the answer
FUTABA: is yeah
FUTABA: sure why not
YUSUKE: Oh, excellent.
YUSUKE: I thought that you might decline on account of your illness.
FUTABA: i’m not a punk bitch
FUTABA: i’m going
FUTABA: u were only working all those paintings for like two months i wanna see their oily faces in person
YUSUKE: Just because they were made with oil paints does not mean that they are oily.
FUTABA: cant wait to see my oily boys
YUSUKE: Unfortunately, I have to set up the event beforehand, so I will not be able to accompany you on the way here.
YUSUKE: Will you be alright by yourself?
FUTABA: uh
FUTABA: hmm
FUTABA: how oily are these boys in case i need to call a rain check
YUSUKE: Hmm.
YUSUKE: Perhaps someone else can go with you.
YUSUKE: Let me see if I can find someone.
FUTABA: what like one of ur art friends
FUTABA: i’m not going with anyone i dont know sry
YUSUKE: I’ll keep it in mind.
Tuesday, 1:59 PM
YUSUKE: Unfortunately, Ann and Ryuji were not available. Both of them will be coming late to the art show.
YUSUKE: Fortunately, Goro is.
FUTABA: whomst
YUSUKE: Goro Akechi?
YUSUKE: Crow, in case you know multiple Goro Akechis.
FUTABA: no like why u callin him goro
YUSUKE: I asked him if I could and he said yes.
YUSUKE: There’s not many people left in Tokyo who were part of the Thieves.
YUSUKE: I’m not exactly popular at school myself, so I thought it prudent to hold onto the connections I already had.
FUTABA: hhhhhhhhhhhhh
FUTABA: but why him……………………………………….
YUSUKE: Has he done something wrong?
YUSUKE: Well.
YUSUKE: Besides the obvious.
YUSUKE: Last I heard, you were quite vocally supportive of Goro making a change for the better,but have you prehaps reconsidered?
FUTABA: i mean he’s always been nice to me
FUTABA: like even before he was on the team as crow
FUTABA: and then later after he like lost his shit and tried to kill us
FUTABA: he was also like weirdly nice
FUTABA: even if he was dressed as a tokusatsu villain
FUTABA: but
FUTABA: i
FUTABA: ok this is gonna sound really weird but like
FUTABA: you know how i said that the person to take me to the art show has to be someone that i know
YUSUKE: Yes.
FUTABA: even though akechi was one of the thieves at the end
FUTABA: i feel like i dont really know him
FUTABA: he like had that whole breakdown where he spilled all his kylo ren sadstuck junk and then he peeled his dumb ass up off the floor and then we beat up his dad in a dark alley
FUTABA: and then i guess akira likes him a bunch and hangs out with him and i guess probably talked to him about all that stuff that happened
FUTABA: and also i think ann talks to him
FUTABA: and also haru i think for some reason……………………..
FUTABA: but like i feel like. we as a group. never really uhhhhhhh
FUTABA: got to know him very well i guess
FUTABA: because he spent like the whole year being a fake ass bitch
FUTABA: and then by the time he wasnt, the thieves were busy literally fighting god, and it was all business business business
FUTABA: ughghfhg i guess this is just a really long way of saying that like yeah ok i guess i do know him but i dont think i really do
FUTABA: even when he was off the shits in the engine room it was like
FUTABA: somehow that was not……………………………….. really him
FUTABA: idk maybe this is just my Thoughts but like
FUTABA: idk some people are like “your true self is who you are at your worst” and
FUTABA: yeah maybe you are some PART of urself when youre at your worst but like
FUTABA: also not???
FUTABA: that can’t be it
FUTABA: that’s not ALL of you
FUTABA: so all i ever saw was him when he was being a fake ass barbie prince and then when he was like actively losing his shit
FUTABA: and both of those were like. two types of fake ass barbie prince
FUTABA: except obviously the one where he started screamin about murder and trying to kill joker was like, fake ass serial killer barbie prince
FUTABA: anyway i dont buy it for a second that seeing akechi at his worst means that i know the first thing about his “”“”“”“”“true self”“”“”“”“”“”“
FUTABA: like i know that i technically met him but also at the same time i dont think ive ever really actually met this dude
FUTABA: uh tldr what’s the truth crowboy
FUTABA: second tldr do you got anyone else i can go to the art show with because im not unpackin all that junk in the trunk while also trying to fend off a panic attack in the subway
YUSUKE: Well, to speak to "what’s the truth, crowboy,” I’d say he’s actually really funny.
FUTABA: WHAT
YUSUKE: Yes, actually.
FUTABA: YOU TRYNA TELL ME YOU SHARE A SENSE OF HUMOR W AKECHI
YUSUKE: As everyone knows, I don’t have a sense of humor.
YUSUKE: But if I did, that might not be inaccurate to say.
YUSUKE: Either way, we could ask Boss if he’ll take you to school.
FUTABA: no
FUTABA: im not makin him shut down leblanc for the day just cause i cant get my shit together
FUTABA: and i go to school by myself all the time now i dont need to be walked there by my dad like a four yr old
FUTABA: r u sure u dont have anyone else who can take me
YUSUKE: You said it had to be someone you know.
YUSUKE: I can take you.
YUSUKE: But I’ll be getting to Kosei early to prepare.
FUTABA: how early is early
YUSUKE: Four in the morning.
FUTABA: PLEASE INARI
YUSUKE: The people you know is a quite limited pool, Futaba.
FUTABA: shut the hell ur face i dont need u tellin me to make kosei friends too
FUTABA: i get my butt to school every day i’m already a hero
FUTABA: ok alright
FUTABA: crow-san it is
FUTABA: hhh
FUTABA: no shut up stop typing i’m fine
FUTABA: i already saw his dumb ass get inflicted with Horny from Yaldy God Himself i ain’t afraid of no crows
FUTABA: actually now that i remember that that was pretty funny mwehehehehehehe
FUTABA: OKAY send me the who what when where why
YUSUKE: There’s a PDF flier. I’ll send it to you.
YUSUKE: But I will have to type the email to send it to you.
FUTABA: oh my GOD inari
FUTABA: i swear to god ur not actually this dense and youre just pretending u dont know what an exaggeration is just to drive me up the wall
YUSUKE: Oh, that is a possibility, isn’t it?
FUTABA: WH
YUSUKE: Ah, last period is starting. I’ll have to talk to you later.
FUTABA: WHAT
FUTABA: NO WAIT
FUTABA: HELLO????
FUTABA: YUSUKE NO COME BACK
Tuesday, 2:53 PM
FUTABA: YUSUKE HAVE YOU BEEN MAKING AKECHI DO UR HW FOR U SO YOU CAN DO MORE ART??
FUTABA: IS THAT WHY UR ON A FIRST NAME BASIS W HIM
FUTABA: ANSWER ME STRINGBEAN
*
In Futaba’s opinion, there’s an infinite amount of more embarrassing reasons to pull yourself out of your depression pit than “I needed to yell at my friend for being a snotty bastard,“ and there’s worse escorts to have than the weird guy who went from being a professional murderer to their weird awkward friend. Firstly, if there’s anything that can motivate Futaba Sakura, it’s the primal urge to dunk on her friends for spite and memes. Secondly, there’s no chance in hell Futaba’s going to have a breakdown in front of Akechi.
She can do this. She got herself out of this grave once; she can do it again. Even if Akira isn’t here. She’s getting better. She promised him.
On the eighth day of her almost-return to hermithood, Akechi texts her:
AKECHI: I’m here.
AKECHI: Are you ready to go?
Futaba is wearing only an old shirt, no bra, sweats, and vaguely greasy hair from all the showers she’s skipped.
FUTABA: i’m SO ready
FUTABA: the readiest
FUTABA: ultra mega super ready
FUTABA: featherman ranger code name Ready
AKECHI: Oh.
AKECHI: Alright.
Hell yes alright. Time for Futaba to save her own life from her gravesite of a room.
With… Goro Akechi. Wow, life is weird, huh?
She drags on her Kosei uniform like a skin discarded long ago. It feels stiff. Maybe because it feels wrong to wear school clothes like a functioning human; maybe because she just hasn’t washed it in a week. The very idea of explaining herself to Sojiro stresses her out, so she doesn’t do it. The idea of not explaining herself to Sojiro, when he deserves an explanation and also would probably have a heart attack if he realized that she’d disappeared from her room without his knowing, also stresses her out, so she still doesn’t explain herself to Sojiro.
I told Akira I’m better now. I can do this. I did this for more than six months. I was out of my room in the real world, I went to the school festival, I changed my own heart…
She creeps down the stairs like a thief in her own house and pokes her head out the door. Goro Akechi is fiddling with his phone in the sun outside her house, looking like he, too, has only just managed to pull on his Human Suit and look like a guy who didn’t make shadows beg for mercy for fun, so it looks like this whole expedition is going to be a lot of fun.
"Futaba-chan?” says Akechi, only just noticing her lurking in her own doorway. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other. How are you?”
Futaba opens her mouth. No noise comes out.
Akechi’s eyebrows slowly begin to knit together.
“I’m good,” she says squeakily. Clears her throat. Holy shit, she’s not afraid of Akechi after all that junk they went through in the Metaverse. She saw him as a rat. She saw him visibly want to break his father’s face when Shido tried to apologize to him on live TV. Once, Makoto and Akechi got into an unironic, passionate, hour-long argument about whether or not it’s beneficial to color code your notes.
“I’m alright!” Futaba announces louder, maybe a little loudly, considering the way he looks only more concerned. “L-Let’s hurry up and get this sidequest over with!”
She pulls her hoodie over her head and jams her hands into the pockets and makes herself as small as possible and inches out of the doorway. “If you… say so,” says Akechi, and eventually matches her incredibly slow pace as she shuffles her way towards the main street.
When the noise of Yongen-Jaya’s street hits her, her heart rate (already high as hell) spikes even higher like the first day she’d come out of her room, but the old coping mechanisms come back like second nature: Breathe slower, avoid eye contact, remember her mission, stick to the sides of the streets. Breathe slower. She’s still got it. It’s still hard, but she’s got a whole arsenal of ways to deal. She can do this. She will kick Yusuke’s ass for being a dick, if only out of sheer spite.
If Akira were here, I could hide behind him and…
No, shut up, shut up. All she has is her hoodie and Goro Akechi. Akira’s not here. She can do this by herself.
Akechi makes precisely two attempts at small talk (“How has Kosei been?” “Have you seen the pieces Yusuke submitted to the art show before?”) before he realizes that Futaba isn’t going to respond by virtue of barely holding onto her shit by her fingernails. He shuts up and sticks close by. Futaba makes her way down the streets towards the subway like walking on a tightrope. The subway station isn’t busy, but she puts every step in front of her like she’s going to fall. Getting on the subway might as well be a highwire. Futaba and Akechi wait for the train in mutual silence to the sound of other commuters murmuring amongst themselves, like a toothless echo of Mementos’s depths.
When they get on the train, people around her are quiet, thank god, but all of a sudden she’s convinced that she smells because she hasn’t taken a shower in literal days, and she tries to pack herself into her seat as tightly as possible. The guy in front of her is scrolling through something at a ferocious pace and his thumbnail keeps hitting the screen with this incessant clack, clack, clack noise. The subway voice announces their next station as the doors begin to close, and a girl suddenly sits bolt upright, having realized that this is her station after all, and bangs Futaba’s knees hard as she passes. Futaba wants to curl her legs to her chest, but she’s wearing Kosei’s uniform skirt and it’d just make everyone stare at her if she did that on the subway. She curls her fingers into the skirt hem. She stares down at her knees and lets her hair drape around her like a curtain. She can do this. She can do this. Breathe slower. Even slower. I did this for more than six months, I told Akira I’m better now, I changed my own heart…
Akechi pulls out his phone. Futaba’s phone buzzes.
AKECHI: Are you alright?
FUTABA: i said i was ready dude
Akechi types and retypes an answer, which technically Futaba could just look over his arm and read, but instead Futaba flips through apps on her phone and pulls up a shitty mobile dungeon crawler. She dies four times before Akechi puts his phone away without sending anything.
They pass multiple stations like that. Futaba sure as hell hopes that Akechi’s watching which station they’re on, because she isn’t. After the millionth time she dies, Futaba just closes the app altogether. Concentration’s shot. Can’t focus on anything. Heartbeat’s too loud. Breathing’s too loud. The guy next to her is breathing too loud. Everything is too loud.
New text:
AKECHI: Yusuke said you’d recovered from your cold, but you still look a little unwell.
Futaba doesn’t respond to that. She doesn’t need Negative Nancy over here telling her she’s gonna crack. Because she isn’t gonna. The subway starts to slow, and the voice announces the station for Yusuke’s school. She’s literally almost there, she’s right there, she might die in three seconds because her heart is going to pound of her chest but at least she’s going to make it, she promised Akira that she was alright—
The subway doors open. Passengers stand to get off. Akechi stands up. Futaba drops like a rock.
“I can’t,” Futaba’s voice says. She sounds like she’s crying. “I can’t, I can’t do it, I—”
“Futaba—”
“I’m can’t do it, I—”
She buries her face in her knees on the dirty subway floor. Oh, she really is crying. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…”
Around her, people’s feet stop moving. They’re staring at her. She’s crying on the subway and everyone is staring at her. “Shh,” says Akechi, like Futaba doesn’t know she’s being a loud and irritating pest, but then he takes off his winter coat and covers her with it. Suddenly everything goes dark. It’s a huge coat, too; it wraps around her whole torso with enough room to spare to cover her entire head. Inside, it’s like she’s back in her room, only listening to the sounds of real life somewhere on the other side of a computer monitor, where it can’t hurt her. It’s so surprising she hiccups to a stop. Two hands pull her up by the shoulders and guide her to stand. “Up. Let’s go.”
“Is she okay?” says a voice.
Futaba’s entire body seizes with fear. She ducks into her own knees, trying to disappear.
“Hey, little girl, are you alright?”
“She’ll be fine,” says Akechi’s friendly, super fake ass barbie prince voice. “My sister just had a hard day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“A hard day?” Now the stranger’s voice is accusatory.
“For your information, our dog was recently brutally run over in front of her eyes.”
“Young man, are you serious right now?”
“Oh, yes. There was blood everywhere. Its intestines squelched horribly under the tires less than six feet away from her,” Akechi goes on. Futaba chokes, and then hiccups in what she realizes is almost a laugh. “Please excuse her. Thank you.” And before the literal complete stranger can follow up on that awful statement, Akechi takes her hand and pulls her up.
Futaba stumbles to her feet. If she has to take the coat off right now, she will actually die.
“It’s okay. Just hold my hand and follow me.”
Blindly, she lets him lead her out of the subway, weaving through people with only minimal contact with other people’s shoulders. There’s a whole awkward period where Akechi has to walk her up the stairs out of the subway station while she can’t see anything, but eventually the noise and bustle of other people around her seems to die away, and the air grows cooler in the way it does in the shadows between city buildings. Then they stop walking altogether. When Akechi lets go of her hand, she almost tries to grab it back before she catches herself.
“Okay. There’s nobody else around, now. It’s safe.”
Futaba doesn’t come out of the jacket. In the dark, her eyes dart back and forth, trying to see even as she blinds herself.
“Sorry for grabbing you so suddenly like that,” Akechi’s voice goes on after it becomes obvious she’s not going to come out.
Futaba wipes snottily at her own face. Oh, this is so gross, she’s got snot and tears on top of five days worth of grime and body juice because she hadn’t taken a shower. She’s disgusting. She really actually wants to die right now. She can’t show her face like this.
“Er,” says Akechi. “Do you want…. water, or…?”
Futaba folds up right there on the city pavement, probably dragging Akechi’s nice coat all over a dirty alleyway. She tucks her face into her knees, where she feels safest, and pulls the coat flaps even tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I’m sorry for not being okay,” she mumbles.
There’s a short silence. “You really don’t have to be.”
“I do,” Futaba says. She feels like she’s nine years old again, a petulant kid who needs to hold people’s hands and be escorted around Tokyo. “This is—it’s stupid, and I can’t believe I-I’m still doing this, a-and even a-after everything that h-happened last year, I’m still just a… I’m still…”
“It’s fine,” says Akechi. Even he sounds overwhelmed, and at the first sound of weakness, she pulls the coat off her head and glares at him furiously, red-faced and covered in tears and snot and gross depression juice crust and all.
“I’m not supposed to be this way anymore!” she says miserably. “I’m supposed to be better! Moved on! Doing literally a-anything else but crying over t-taking a subway! It’s stupid and nobody else is like this and I just want to be over this already and I just want to be better already and—!“
She covers her face with her hands again. God, even when she says that, it sounds pathetic.
After a moment or two, she hears Akechi moving again. She peeks at him. He’s crouching in almost the exact same pose as her, looking like he’s resigning himself to neither getting his coat back, nor moving from this spot any time soon, nor getting to Yusuke’s art show on time, but also looking archly and entirely unperturbed about it. Actually, it looks like he’s writing a work email on his phone.
Futaba was right about being in an alleyway, but it’s so cold because they’re shielded by a trio of vending machines selling canned coffee and wrapped sandwiches. "Our dog was recently run over?” she says.
“People can mind their own damn business,” says Akechi in his Pleasant Boy Voice, without looking up from his email.
“He was just trying to help.”
“Oh, yes, let’s help the crying girl by crowding her and suffocating her in a crush of public transit.”
Futaba snorts. “That was really mean of you.”
“Oh, absolutely,” says Akechi.
Futaba sucks a truly disgusting gob of snot into her nose. “Ugh. I wish I could’ve seen the guy’s face when you told him that.”
“It was like I’d spat on his shoes. I should’ve kept going. Or had a camera.”
“Futaba giggles wetly into her forearms. "Like one of those—those prank videos online… Get Yusuke to film it.”
“Yusuke, as the cameraman? I’m not trying to make a documentary.” Akechi flips to a different screen on his phone. “I already texted Yusuke about our poor dead dog, by the way, so don’t worry about it.”
Suddenly Futaba feels like literal garbage again. “Why are you always so nice to me?” she mumbles.
Akechi makes a weird face, like he’s trying to do his old Pleasant Boy shtick while having swallowed a lemon whole. “You say that like me being nice is somehow unusual.”
“Uh, yeah. Because it is. You literally were just being a huge asshole to a guy you’d never met over a fictional dog.���
Akechi has this increasingly disgruntled look on his face like he kind of wants to punt Futaba down some stairs, which, frankly, is the best sort of reward, in Futaba’s opinion. “I’m working on it,” he says grumpily.
“How’s that been?” says Futaba.
“Which part?”
Futaba has one whole moment of self reflection on this idea as maybe not a good course of action before she barrels on anyway: “The part where you’re turning your life around. Starting over. Trying again.”
“It sucks dick,” says Akechi.
“Oh, right on,” says Futaba, and then before she can stop herself: “Wait, I thought you liked dick?”
Akechi makes a noise like a strangled cat.
Futaba cackles. “Dude, incognito mode when you’re browsing for porn does not save you from people like me.”
“Have you been spying on me?”
“Uh, yes? Obviously?”
“You know you could get arrested for that sort of breach in privacy.”
“Oh, boo hoo, so sorry I know all about your weird orphan-saving night job and your smutty Featherman doujinshi collection. You’re not gonna narc on me.” Futaba stops. “Are you?”
“Stop looking at my internet history.”
“No. You better not narc on me.”
“Then stop looking at my internet history.”
“You had to google how to change a SIM card last week, crow-boy; you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
“I will narc on you.”
“No you won’t. You’re the one trying to not be an asshole.”
Akechi makes a face like a cat being slowly submerged in cold water. Futaba laughs in his face.
“If you’re quite done,” says Akechi grouchily.
“No, never. You’re made for being made fun of,” says Futaba. “I’m gonna be making fun of you for years and years, crow-boy; you’re never going to get rid of me.”
“Great.”
“Gonna be creeping on your weird orphan-saving night job until the day you die.”
“Wonderful,” says Akechi without inflection whatsoever.
“Mwehehehehehehehehehe.”
“If you’re quite done.”
“I will take a well-deserved break from my endless duty to troll you both on and offline,” says Futaba. “Because I really really really wanna go to the art show.”
Akechi has the nerve to look relieved that he no longer has to squat in a dirty alleyway listening to a high school freshman bully him. “Then let’s go.”
Futaba hugs her knees tight. “But I wanna keep your coat.”
“Aren’t you wearing your own coat?” says Akechi, trying to look like he isn’t shivering. “Aren’t you getting hot?”
“I’m keeping it.”
“It’s my coat.”
“I’m keeping it.”
“Fine, then. Keep it. It’s dry clean only.”
“Oh, ew. No, take it back, gross, gross,” and Futaba peels the snotty, tear-stained, dirty winter coat off and dumps it back in Akechi’s arms, who looks at it with the expression of someone long-suffering and without hope of escape.
“And,” says Futaba, “I wanna see it if you tell anyone else that our dog got run over.”
Akechi smirks. “You’ll have to film it, then.”
“Oh my god, like I wouldn’t.”
Futaba scrubs her face one last time. She still feels like she’s covered in a grimy layer of slime, but maybe she can wash her face at Kosei. When she gets there. Because she’s gonna get there.
“Uh, one more thing,” says Futaba.
“Not like you’ve bullied me into doing literally everything else you’ve wanted,” says Akechi.
“You can’t laugh at me.”
“Good thing I don’t have a sense of humor,” says Akechi, which horrifyingly confirms to Futaba that Akechi and Yusuke, of all people, really do share a sense of humor.
Futaba hesitates. “Please, um… please don’t tell Akira about this.”
“Why would I tell Akira?“
"Nice. Good answer.” She smooths her hair down, trying to make herself presentable, or just have something to do with her hands. “I… told him I was gonna be okay without him and all that, so… I don’t wanna let him down, you know?”
Slowly, almost shyly, Akechi smiles. “Oh, yes. I know.”
“Our secret. Secret-keepers.”
“Secret-keepers. Are you ready?”
Futaba takes another deep breath. Pushes herself up, brushes herself off, and sighs. “Absolutely not. This is gonna suck so much dick,” says Futaba. “Let’s go anyway.”
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Just Like Forensic Files
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: poisoning
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, FRIDAY
Mentioned: Ben Parker, Karen, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Adrian Toomes
@whumptober2020 Day Twenty-Two: Poisoned
Peter could remember Ben always teasing him when he was younger for watching Forensic Files. Because “why don’t you want to watch cartoons, Peter?” Sure, he liked cartoons too, but Forensic Files was more interesting. He had always loved science, and he wanted to learn more about it, even at a young age. So, he would watch Forensic Files any chance he had.
Flash forward nine years and he’s a crime-fighting mutant spider-kid who might actually need these facts that were stored in the back of his mind. He had, in the past, had to have Karen contact poison control for people he found in different situations. Usually it was drugs that they had taken willingly, but there were the occasional attempted homocides. It was New York City, after all, and there was always going to be crime. Some of those crimes would, unfortunately, be murders.
What he didn’t expect was to need those facts as Peter Parker. Especially not at a high school party. A high school party that the host had promised wouldn’t even have alcohol. Had there been that possibility, he wouldn’t have went. Because he didn’t want to be slipped anything at a party and have some sort of weird reaction because of his spider powers. He would make sure that he was at home or at Tony’s when he did eventually try any, but he still knew that would be years from now. It would be hypocritical of him to do something illegal when he stopped crime on a daily basis.
What he never expected was for someone at that party to slip something else in his drink. Something stronger, an obvious attempt at murder. It didn’t make sense. There were six people who knew his identity; May, Ned, Tony, Pepper, Happy, and Toomes. The only one of those who would have any reason to want him dead was in prison, so he thought he had nothing to worry about.
“Are you alright, Peter?” Ned asked as they stepped away from the drink table. The moment they stepped that way, his Spider-Sense had warned him of danger. He had been glancing around suspiciously ever since, trying to determine who there was in danger and, more importantly, who was planning on harming them.
“It’s a um. . . An intern thing,” he said quietly, giving Ned a knowing look. It wasn’t until he took a sip of his drink that he realized what it was. “Does your drink taste funny?”
“No, why? Does yours?” Ned asked, looking in his drink and then at Peter’s as if he could see a difference between the two.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m going to go pour it out. If I’m not back in a few minutes, come find me.”
Ned nodded uncertainly, watching as Peter started towards the bathroom. Just in the time it took him to get there and pour the drink out, he felt sick. A wave of nausea hit him so bad he thought he was going to puke, but when he tried nothing came except a pounding headache. He took a shaky breath and sat down against the locked door, pulling out his cell phone. He texted Ned first, telling him to be waiting outside the bathroom for when he unlocked the door. Only when he saw that his friend had read the message and replied with a thumbs up did he got to his contacts, deciding to call Tony first because he could probably get there quicker than May.
“Hey, Kiddo,” he answered within two rings. “Having fun?”
“Um, hey, Mr. Stark,” he started. He closed his eyes and focused on keeping his breathing steady. He had a feeling he knew what was happening to him, and if he was right his heart could give out if he let himself panic. He had to stay calm no matter how terrified he was. “So, I have a question.”
“I’m not going to like where this is going, am I?”
Peter chuckled nervously but didn’t answer, instead continuing. “So there was this episode once. . .” He trailed off to take another deep breath, something that seemed to be getting more difficult as time went on. “They poisoned the water and the woman got sick in minutes. She. . . She was dead before they got there.”
“Okay,” Peter could tell that Tony was trying to stay calm, but could hear him saying something to FRIDAY off the phone, probably telling her to track his phone. “Please tell me that I’m wrong in why you’re telling me this.”
“So. . . I, um, I think that’s happening to me. . . Like right now. . .” He told him. “Cyanide, is that what it’s called?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what it’s called,” he replied. Sure enough, Peter heard a familiar whirring noise and then a few clanks. “Keep going.”
Peter was sure that he already knew everything he needed to know and was just trying to keep him talking now, but he went with it. So far, talking had helped keep him focused. He could not panic. “So it’s supposed. . . Supposed to be colorless. . .” He told him, recalling how the whole tank had been contaminated with more than enough to kill someone and no one noticed until they took a drink. “It was. . . The taste gave it away. . . And my drink tasted funny. . .”
Peter tried to take another deep breath, but felt like he couldn’t get as much air in as before. “I’mma let Ned in. . . Take me outside. . . Need air. . .”
“Alright, Buddy. Just keep me on the line, okay? I’m on my way.”
“Mmkay,” Peter replied. Shaky as he did so, Peter forced himself to stand up and unlock the door before he had to lean against it and catch his breath. “Ned?”
Ned pushed the door open, nearly causing Peter to fall over. “Dude, you don’t look too good,” he started. “Are you alright?”
Peter shook his head, too winded to reply at the moment. “Pete? Can you put Ned on speaker for me?”
“Y-yeah,” Peter managed, tapping the button on his phone and handing it to Ned so he could use that hand to grab ahold of his friend. “Need air. . .”
“Ned?” Tony prompted over the phone. At first Ned was a bit stunned, but forced himself to reply, knowing the severity of the situation.
“Yes, Mr. Stark, Sir?” he replied quickly, not missing the weak, teasing smile Peter gave him.
“I want you to take Pete out the back door for me. I’ll be there in three minutes, and I don’t want to cause a huge scene. Can you do that for me?”
Ned turned to peek out the door, finding the back door. “It’s not far, Peter. Do you think you can make it?”
“Can try,” Peter told him, following his gaze.
“Alright. We’re going to try,” Ned replied towards the phone before taking Peter’s arm and putting around his back. He glanced around before he started helping his friend walk in that direction. Once they were outside, he helped him sit down against the wall. “Better?”
Peter just nodded in reply, closing his eyes.
“Ned, give me a rundown. How’s he doing?” Tony asked. “I’m about a minute out.”
“He doesn’t look good,” Ned replied, frowning as Peter looked up at him. “But he’s awake. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Just keep him awake for me if you can, okay?”
Peter blinked at Ned and shook his head. He had started to feel faint the moment he stood up, and it was only getting worse. “Can’t,” he managed to choke out.
“Just a little longer,” Ned pressed. “Please, Peter. He’s almost here.”
“‘M sorry,” he murmured, giving him a sad look. At this point, he could only hope that he would wake up again.
#whumptober2020#no.22#poisoned#fandom#writing#marvel#mcu#avengers#irondad#spiderson#peter parker#ned leeds#tony stark#friday#spider man#iron man
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Synopsis: Yn Ln is an environmentalist - Miyagi University’s very own campus ‘Green Thumb.’ One day Hinata Shōyō who happens to be a close friend of Yn, invites them to come to one of his races. The only problem is that this race of his, is illegal. Read the journey of Yn who has been sucked into the world of illegal street racing with the one goal: to create an eco-friendly race car.
Masterlist
WC: 1.1K
The Diner
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After meeting your team you all exchange numbers with each other. ‘So Yn, you’re the environmentalist. Any ideas on how we could create such a car?’
You hum as you tap your chin with your finger, ‘well there's battery powered cars like Teslas - they use large lithium ion batteries and have to be charged when the battery gets low. This would be an expensive approa- no, scratch that. This whole project is going to be incredibly expensive, but putting that aside there's also solar power.’
Before you could say the next option, you see Nishinoya’s face light up as he recalls some information about solar powered cars, ‘oh! A couple years ago some dudes made a solar powered car and it actually worked! But the only downside is that it was super tiny and only went like, oh i don't know, sixty kilometres an hour?’
‘The last option I can think of is using hydrogen to power lithium ion batteries. So essentially the same method that Tesla uses but instead of using electricity to power the car we use hydrogen.’
At the mention of hydrogen Yachi perks up and says, ‘come to think of it, I actually saw an article regarding hydrogen powered cars. I can’t remember but I can look into it.’
You smile at Yachi, ‘thanks, that’ll be a big help.’
‘Hmm what will be a big help? Is Karasuno planning on doing something… oh how do I put it? Out of the ordinary?’ You turn your head so fast you hear an unwelcome crack with some excruciating pain following. ‘Oh it's you, the new extra or whatever that’s working with Karasuno. Well aren't you getting in the wars? First you trip over yourself in front of me - how embarrassing might I add, and now you pull a nerve or something in your neck, once again, in front of me. Do I startle you that much darling?’
You snarl in response while holding onto your neck, ‘it’s not that you startle me, it's more that you sneak up and invite yourself into conversations that clearly don't involve you. Oh and by the way, you bumped into me, I did not trip.’
Oikawa chuckles, ‘darling, you do know what startling is right? Or does my beauty stop that brain of yours from thinking straight?’
‘Oi! Shittykawa!’
You look behind Oikawa and see someone racing towards him. It was hard to tell in the diner’s lighting but the person almost sounded exactly like someone else you know - or used to know.
Oikawa starts stuttering out a weak ‘Iwa-pooh’ before he’s hit over the head by… Iwaizumi Hajime?
‘Hey guys, sorry that he’s bothering you,’ he is looking at Ennoshita while apologising so you use this to your advantage and take a look at him. Sure enough it was the Iwaizumi Hajime you grew up with, no wonder his name sounded so familiar. A small smile makes it way across your face as you admire your old neighbour.
‘Oh Yn is that you?’ Iwaizumi is now staring at you, a surprised smile resting on his lips. You were caught, red handed, staring at him.
‘Yep, it's me! I’m Yn! Hahaha! How have you been Iwa?’ You mentally curse yourself out for being so obvious, now he definitely knows that you were checking him out. Little did you know, he too was in the midst of checking you out.
‘I’ve been uh, pretty good. So you're in the racing scene now?’ His words were stiff and unnatural, you couldn’t blame him - the two of you lost contact after you went to Tokyo for high school.
You look up and make eye contact, yeah he was as pretty as ever. ‘I’m working as an extra in Karasuno.’
He lets out a low hum, ‘I see, well good luck. Let’s hope our paths cross again yeah?’ You nod, unable to actually form a proper sentence. Iwaizumi turns away and pulls Oikawa with him. You sigh as you watch him retreat to the other side of the diner, presumably where the rest of Seijoh was. When you turn back to face your teammates, you are met with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
‘Excuse me Yn, but how the hell do you know Iwaizumi of Seijoh?’ You giggle a little at Nishinoya’s dramatic tone.
‘We were neighbours for fifteen years before I moved to a boarding school.’
‘Ohoho? Do you know what he was like?’
You send a playful glare towards Nishinoya, ‘how about another time? I want to get to know you all a bit better and get working on the car yeah?’
‘That’s a good idea,’ says Ennoshita, ‘when are you all free to catch up during the day? It’s one in the morning and my brain is not functioning properly.’
‘I’m free tomorrow after 11. I’m on break in two weeks as well!’
‘Nice to know Yn! I’m free as well tomorrow, and yeah same here, my uni is on break in two. What about you Yachi, Noya and Asahi?’
‘I’m free after 1 tomorrow and then we have the holidays in two weeks!’ Says Yachi.
‘I can’t do tomorrow but why don't you all start making plans and ideas?’
‘I’ll be there, and don’t you worry Asahi! You won’t miss out on anything!’
✄.
‘Hey Yn! Are you ready to head home?’ Shouyou calls out from his table.
‘Yeah I’m ready when you are!’
Shouyou walks over to you, ‘well let’s get going. We both have some afternoon classes tomorrow and it’s about two-thirty right now,’ he chuckles. The two of you say your goodbyes to the Karasuno crew - of course Shōyō was familiar with many others outside of the crew so you patiently wait for him to finish making his rounds.
✄.
The hum of the car was enough to lull you to sleep, you were tired and you wanted to go home and start drafting ideas for the eco-car but you knew that your excitement could wait until morning - if you could even get out of bed in the morning.
‘Hey Yn,’ Shouyou softly calls, ‘we’re here, want me to walk you up?’ you lazily rub your eyes and look at him. ‘You fell asleep…’ you let out an incoherent sound and you felt your eyes droop. Before your mind fell into darkness, Shoyo let out a soft chuckle.
Shouyou turns to you and puts his palm on your face, ‘you fell asleep again… well, that’s no surprise. you’ve had a big night.’
✄.
When you wake up in the morning you feel sweaty and uncomfortable. You find out why when you pull the covers off of your body - you were in your clothes from last night. You smile to yourself and mumble out a small ‘thanks Shouyou’ before you roll out of bed and get ready for the day ahead of you.
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taglist: @dadchi-oya @cutepet09
#adkor#a different kind of race#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#various!haikyuu x reader#various x reader#haikyuu street racing#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst
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