#i can’t figure out what the deal is with the fucking hat in knock yourself out xd

[wybienova]

wgat the fuck where’d this anime boy come from 🍎🍎🍎

[ask-carmenpondiego]

Chapter 6: Two Pones walk into a bar and end up at the Black Market

When Carmen caught up with Marehem, he was pressing buttons on an old timey cigarette vending machine, seeing if there were any left. He jostles it a moment as she stammers gingerly, “H-Heeey. Um. L-Look, I’m sorry. I know how it looks and I realize I was in the wrong back there. I wasn’t in my right mind. I did get most of the information I needed to possibly figure out the next step-“ her eyes went wide as he glared at her darkly and effortlessly tore open the machine like a cardboard pasta box with his tentacles, metal screeching and creaking. He procured about two packs, leaving the menthols. She cleared her throat and tried to speak, but he continued to stare at her, noisily crinkling the wrapper open and placing the other pack in his jacket pocket, “As I was saying.. I could still use your help. And I could still help you. We can head to the medical examiner office or something next if you want. How does that sound?” He stalks close to her enough to make her back up against a shadowed wall, she shakily hold out her hand “D-deal?” He grips hers tightly enough she yelped out, he leaned close to her ear and growled, “If I even catch you with that fucking drug again, the deal is off and I will devour your bones in the most painful way and will keep you alive enough to watch.” She steeled herself and gulped, “Fair. But if you work for me, there will be no more killing or slaughter while on my jobs. Got it? Slight dismemberment, ok, but not life threatening.” He leans back still holding her hand, snarling, “What? Thats like limiting me to breaking fingers! Fuck off.” She frowned at him, squeezing his hand this time, “If you dont, I walk away with the closest lead you have on getting the closure you want.” He growls in frustration and slams his fist against the wall by her head.

Carmen yelped as they both fall through the shadow, she falls onto wet asphalt as he casually strides towards a bar across the city street, his wings and tentacles tucked back in unseen. Her hat had fallen beside her as she got up, wiping off the dirt and wetness, she picked up her hat and hurried to follow him, rolling it up and storing it in her pack. M was already at the bar, shooting back a couple shots as she peeked into the door. She sat next to him and ordered a glass of moscato. “I didn’t think you were a shots kind of guy.” She quipped, sipping her wine. “I ain’t. This shits water to me. I’d like to think it does somethin but it never does.” He gruffly slams down the shotglass upside down. “So you can’t get drunk? Are all changelings like that?-ow!” He shushed her and kicked her leg. He looked her in the eye and showed he had normal looking bright green eyes and the lack of any horn or antler at all. Even his tail was looking like a short tuft of orange. His clothes had changed to more of a pale navy business suit. He still had the bandages, she noticed. “You got yourself a ladyfriend finally, M?” The bartender chuckled, polishing a glass with a towel. “Neh, just the bro’s ball and chain. You know, family affairs.” He knocked back another shot, as Carmen waved shyly. Bartender looked at her, “You look familiar, have you been on the news?” She laughed nervously, “Me? Psh! No. I..just got back from a costume party, villain themed! I’m just a little housewife, taking care of two little youngsters. They.. are with a foalsitter right now.” The bartender nodded, “Yeah, that alone time is pretty scarce with kids. Let me know if you need a refill.” She smiled and sipped more wine. She leans closer to M, “They know you here?” He swishes a shotglass a moment, “Yeah the guys from the office come here after work, I moonlight as an insurance agent for AllStable, but to be honest, I’m the breadwinner. I make them the most profit by making accidents happen. Hence all the plasters.” He motions to his face. “They don’t ask how I do it, and I don’t disclose trade secrets to them. But it helps keep cash in my pocket because without a body, neither of us can claim fuckin any inheritance from Wally.” She stops mid sip, “They what? Can they do that? Not that I’m interested in it but I still have bills to pay.” M shakes his head. “Not with Wally’s will. Theres an airtight clause where a body needs to be produced in order for the will to be released. Its a Wander Society thing. And your bills got covered automatically when they took you away. You literally have nothing in your name anymore. That will and the law screwed us both over.” Her shoulder sank a little as she finishes her glass, ordering another. She truly didnt care about the money but the fact she had lost their home and any other possessions they owned. She didn’t even get to keep her wallet with the family pictures inside. “Wally didnt send you any pictures of us, did he?” M raised an eyebrow, “Actually he sent several. Literal perfect dad bragging about his family. Why?” Carmen thanked the bartender for the refill and traced her finger along the top. “I don’t have any photos of them anymore. I need to get a new phone first but if you’d be so kind as to share those pictures with me, I’d be eternally grateful.” He sighed and rummaged through his pockets for his phone with a cracked screen. He pulled up the pictures and slid the phone over the bartop to her. “Here, we’ll get you a phone in the mornin. But at least you can go through the pictures.” She picks up the phone and chuckles, tears welling up in her eyes. For a few moments it felt like everything was how it was before, reliving every moment she saw captured. She sniffled and closed the screen, she set the phone down and took her glasses off to wipe her eyes. “Thank you, Marehem. I really needed that.” He sighed and wrapped an arm around her quivering shoulders. “No prob. As insufferable as he was to me, I miss him too.”

He slapped down a couple bills on the counter and stood up, finishing the last shot and the last bit of her wine. “Come on, we need to get shit done tomorrow and we need some shut-eye.”

They exit the bar and start walking down the sidewalk, for a while they were both silent. “M, if you’re a changeling, where are your…holes? If you don’t mind me asking.” M chuckled and pushed up a sleeve, showing the changeling holes and fills them in again making his arm look whole. “They’re there, I just don’t like the look of them. Too much debris gets in them. So I got rid of them.” She adjusts her pack and puts her hands in her pants pockets. “Did Wally look like you without his Earth pony guise?” He scoffed, “Naw, he looked like that Thorax guy, only pastel blues and greens.” He flipped through his phone and pulled up some really old looking photos, showing Carmen. “Oh wow, he looks so different.” He shrugged, putting his phone away, “He never liked it. Thats why he shifted to the Earth pony shape. He felt more like himself like that.” She nodded, “I can see that, I’m glad I knew him as the form he felt more comfortable in.” They fell silent once again as they walked.

There was some muffled pulsing music coming from an upcoming candy shop and Carmen perked up. “Oh hey, Its the Sweet Spot. I know this place. My sister owns it.” M grimaces, “The candy store? Ugh. Too much sugar, makes my teeth hurt from here.” She playfully punches his arm, “No, she owns the candy shop during the day, but the rave club is open right now. Plus if she’s there tonight, we can ask her for a new phone, she has special ones that are undetectable by law enforcement… she runs a black market enterprise behind the rave club. I say check it out. I could get most of my personal documents copied too.”

They head in and asked the bouncer for entry, Carmen shifted her hip and flashed her cutiemark. The bouncer opened the rope for them and the descended down to the basement which opened up to a huge room with neon lasers, smoke machines and booming electro music, filled with all sorts of beings dancing and enjoying themselves. There was a short bright teal pony with neon pink, purple and yellow cyberdreads, dressed in an orange and black cyber punk skirt complete with spiked goggles and gasmask, gloves, fuzzy leg-warmers and glow bracelets adorned her limbs. As they approached, the short mare squealed in delight and ran over, hugging Carmen with the biggest bearhug the little pony could muster.

“Oh my stars!! Bella!! You came back! Ohmahgah, you need to tell me where you went!! Wait! Not here, lets go to a booth!” The hyperactive mare pulled them over to a much quieter corner of the club. “Bella?” M raised an eyebrow. “Its part of my middle name, Isabella. She’s the only one to call me that other than if I make reservations incognito.” Carmen explained. The cyberpunk mare reached for Carmen hands excitedly, “Bella I was so worried when I saw the news of the museum! And then the social medias were all over your arrest! I’m glad to see you havent changed! No one can hold you down, you’re like a slippery eel!” Carmen chuckled, “Well thats why I’m here. Sugar, Wally’s gone and I need my papers and a new phone. I need to go back to before I hung up my hat.” The mare, Sugar Pop, gasped, “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry, he was so good for you, I cant believe it. Was he one of the missing from the fire?? Oh gosh.. he was such a nice fella.. total opposite of tall dark and buggy over here. Whats your name?”

M, who had not changed from his earth pony shape at all, looked at her with surprise, “Wha-me?” Sugar crossed her arms, “No, the teddy bear behind you. Yes you! You’re the only changeling in the booth here. Whats ya name?” M let slip his eye shift and growled, “First of all, how did you-“ He stopped mid sentence when he heard the loud clacking sound of an aerosol can being shaken up. Sugar had a rather large can of bug spray in her hand, not looking amused. “Marehem. Brother of Wally.” He watched her put away the can as he answered. “Now, was that so hard? Your brother would have been the first to introduce himself. Such a charmer! You could’ve learned a lot from him.” She called over one of the waiters and whispered something to him. “Your papers and phone will be up shortly, as always its on the house!”

The two mares spent the next ten minutes catching up on what happened after the fire. M sulked and browsed on his phone in a bored manner. Soon a waiter came around with a tray with a big yellow document envelope, a new unopened cellphone and a small sleek metal case. Sugar Pop took these from the tray and placed them on the table, sliding each over one at a time. “Alright, here’s your papers, phone and a gift from me. Two matching mini pistols, copper and gold inlay, I call these the pennies, so if you ever need to, you can give someone your two cents.. if you catch my drift.” She opens the case to show off a small pair of beautiful and shiny pistols with a line of twelve bullets lined in the case. Carmen smiled and gave a small uneasy face, gingerly closing the case and pushing it back. “I can’t accept this, I’m not a gun person. They make me very uneasy.” Sugar Pop shushes her and pushes it back to Carmen, “Bella, just take the guns. You dont have to use them. Just keep them in a safe or lockbox. Its for a little backup if nothing else. I need you to be safe.” Carmen sighs, nodding her head towards M, “Technically I have back-up. He has a penchant for dismemberment.” M looks up, “I’m what now?” Sugar Pop scoffs, “And if he’s out takin a piss and leaves you alone, then what? You need a back up. Trust me. The world isnt like it used to be back in your big heisting days. You gotta be more careful.”

Carmen rolls her eyes, “You’re like Ma, I get it. I promise I’ll be safe. If you want, I’ll do tiny heists like no returning library books.” Sugar Pop nodded, “Those fees can get pretty pricey.. but no, that isnt any fun! Go out, live a little!! You got a chance to do it again! You did get the kids set up at a safe house, right?”

Carmen nodded, “Yes, I made sure that Adora is being looked after by the Warehouse Curators and Blendin is being looked after by the Great Library. Those are the safest places I know where they can grow up and learn the right things.” M tilts his head, “You put them there? I mean, I never took them as the babysitter types.” Carmen shrugged, “They owed us a favor. And Wally and I agreed that if need be, that would be the favor we would request. No conditions nor questions asked. I promised I would come back for them.” Her sister nodded, “As any parent would. But right now you can afford to take some time for yourself. For a thief, you aren’t very selfish of your own self care.” Carmen looked at Marehem and they both shrugged, “I suppose we can postpone plans for a little bit, get things back up and running. Say.. you don’t happen to have any spare beachfront properties, do you?”

The neon raverpunk mare smiled.

[cherienymphe]

Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

~

Soft lips brushed over your bare shoulder, even softer hands guiding the strap of your slip down your arm, fingers dancing along your skin. Despite the cold weather outside, your room was sweltering, and you pinned it onto the man behind you...the man who was currently unwrapping you like a gift. With fear coursing through your frame, you realized that in a way, you were a gift. A pretty little gift given to the big bad gangster in exchange for resources and protection and whatever else your family needed.

Your eyes fell closed, and you thought back to the day where your father’s desperation had first begun. Desperation that you had ultimately underestimated.

You had been nervous as you tended to the dishes that day, glancing at the clock every now and then. Cleaning and tidying up was how you coped, how you attempted to calm yourself. It normally worked, but today was an exception. Looking around, you realized that there was nothing else to clean, and with a sigh, you leaned against the wall, biting your lip.

The rest of the family had gone to Birmingham. They’d gone to handle...business, and you being the only girl in the family since your mom died, you weren’t allowed to have a hand in the business. It had been a great deal of bitterness for you for years, ever since you were old enough to understand what was really going on, but now you had gradually accepted your father’s reasoning.

Your father and brother and uncles had left early, taking some of their best men with them. You knew they only did that for serious matters, and you had been worried ever since you saw them leave. You had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and now you had nothing to do but wait. It was fortunate that you didn’t have to wait for much longer, hearing several cars come down the driveway.

No one greeted you when you opened the door, faces pinched and sullen, and you knew then that things didn’t go as expected. The only one to acknowledge you was your father, the older man pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before trudging inside with the rest. You swallowed, conflicted on whether or not you should say anything, but your worry got the best of you.

“How did it go?”

Before your father could answer, you heard your brother slam his hand into the wall, the pictures shaking from the force.

“Peaky fucking Blinders,” he spat, and your blood ran cold.

Your eyes met your father’s, and he gave you a look as if to say leave it alone, but you were in shock. You had never imagined that your family would start doing business with the likes of them. Everyone had heard of them, knew who they were and what they did, and the thought of your family being involved with them in any way was a terrifying one.

Everything those men touched turned to poison

“Father,” you had chided as soon as you walked into his office moments later.

From behind his desk, he held a hand up, the other pressed to his forehead as he sighed.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“You promised that things would be different,” you whispered, ignoring his words. “You told me that we would start becoming legitimate, legal. That we’d start doing things right.”

“Y/N-.”

“You promised.”

He slammed his hand down onto the wood, making you wince.

“They’ve got their hand in every cookie jar that matters. Thomas Shelby is a political man, now-.”

You cut him off with a scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

“Only a fool would get mixed up with the likes of them.”

He shot you a scathing look, and you swallowed, looking away with a sigh.

“We need their influence, their resources...their allyship.”

Your eyes widened at this, realizing that your father intended for much more than a one time business deal.

“You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away, simply heaving a sigh before turning his attention to the paperwork before him.

“I will do my best to keep you away from all this, but prepare yourself for seeing a lot more of them, eh?”

He didn’t say anything more, and when it became apparent that that was the end of the discussion, you turned and left. You could hear your brothers and uncles murmuring in the kitchen, going over the day’s events, no doubt, and you made your way upstairs. You never knew exactly what it was that your father sold, but you figured that drugs and alcohol was the gist of it. He’d been in the business for a long time, and he’d made a promise to you that he was going to put a stop to it. That he’d start making money the right way.

Getting mixed up with the Shelbys, the Peaky Blinders, was not the way to go about it.

You understood the appeal though. They had power, resources, influence. With them as an ally, people would think twice about screwing your family over...but was it worth it? Was it worth the increase in violence? Putting the family in the kind of danger you could never even imagine? Was it worth the devastation and death that seemed to follow them like a plague? The answer was simple.

No.

Your father didn’t seem to care about any of that though. Day in and day out, for weeks, you watched your family leave early in the day and return late in the evening, looking more irritated than they did the previous day. It was safe to say that negotiations with the Peaky Blinders was not going as expected. The frustration and annoyance was plain as day on your father’s features, and even though nary a word was uttered to you about anything, you could feel the tension mounting in the air.

The first time you actually met someone of the infamous family, it was a Wednesday. It was a rare day within the past few weeks in which your father was at the house. He had been holed up in his study all day when there was a knock on the door. You had blinked in confusion, trying to recall if your father had mentioned anything about company, but you had only just begun to move when you heard your father’s heavy footsteps traveling down the hallway.

“Stay back.”

Normally you would have argued against him, especially with a tone as harsh as his had been, but something in his voice made you listen. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he walked that made you understand the severity of the situation. You remained in the living room, listening as your father answered the door, unfamiliar voices eventually joining his.

Two men who you’d never seen before joined him in the hallway, standing between the kitchen and living room. You had slowly put your book down, story long forgotten at the sight of the strangers, and your movement caught their attention. Both of them were wearing hats and long coats, but you could still tell that their hair was dark. The lankier of the two was a bit taller, a mustache adorning his face while the other moved a toothpick around between his lips, a faint smirk crawling onto his face at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” the taller one greeted, and you quietly returned the greeting.

Your father cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Arthur, John...this is my daughter, Y/N. She likes to look after the house when I’m gone.”

It was the truth. After your mother’s death, the house was where you felt most comfortable, and you were more than happy to lock yourself in its walls. Especially while the rest of your family ventured out.

“Darling, this is John and Arthur Shelby. I’ve been doing some business with them, remember?”

You fought the urge to sneer at your father, keeping your gaze on the strangers in your home instead.

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said with a tense smile.

Knowing you so well, your father could recognize the displeasure on your face, and if the other men before you noticed it too, they didn’t speak on it. You watched as they followed your father upstairs to his study, the younger of the two tipping his hat to you before departing. You remained there for a time before slowly exhaling, turning to make your way outside. You paid no mind to how long they stayed, spending the rest of your day away outside in your garden. Your mother always kept one, and you had done the same since she died.

That was the first of the few times you ran across Arthur and John Shelby. They were the only two that ever came by the house, greeting you with tipped hats and secretive smiles. You had grown somewhat used to their presence and faces, but not enough to be completely comfortable around them. You didn’t meet the rest of them, didn’t meet him, until weeks later.

“What?” you had breathed, staring at your father in disbelief. 

You watched as he rubbed his forehead, face pinched and eyes clouded over, telling you that he disliked this as much as you did.

“You’ll come to the next meeting with us,” he repeated, and you let out a sharp breath.

So you had heard him correctly.

“...why?” you eventually asked, sounding much calmer than you actually were.

“I know you hate them, but those Shelbys do have some morals about them. Things have been rather tense lately. It seems that we just can’t come to an agreement,” he sighed out, leaning against his desk. “...and I fear that things could become...rowdy.”

He didn’t continue, but you were smart enough to guess where this was going. When the realization hit you, your heart dropped, and you stared at your father like he was a stranger. The man you knew, the man your mother had married, would’ve wanted you as far away from any business dealings as possible. Somehow, the very same man was standing before you and suggesting…

“You think my presence at the meeting will make them behave...make them think twice about doing anything...violent,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to, and you clenched your jaw.

“...and if it doesn’t-?”

“It will,” he argued.

“...but if it doesn’t…” you repeated with more force. “...then what? What will you do if they bring out the guns and razor blades right there? What will you do if they decide to use me to make you agree to their terms?”

Your father was silent, and you stepped towards him, eyes pleading.

“What will you do then?”

You watched as he straightened, standing to his full height as he looked down his nose at you. It was like you were looking at a completely different person, someone who wasn’t like your father at all. As you eyed him, you could see the stress on his face, the strain in his muscles, the conflict in his eyes. You’d had your suspicions that your family’s business with the Peaky Blinders was more serious than you could’ve imagined, but the toll it was clearly taking on your father confirmed it.

Even if you didn’t agree with what was going on, how your father went about getting what he so clearly needed and wanted, it was obvious that this was important to him. Since the death of your mother, very few things brought your father happiness. Very few things even halfway satisfied him, and hoping that this would, shoulders sagging with defeat, you agreed.

This was how you found yourself seated beside your father at none other than The Garrison. The pub was empty of any patrons or staff, only those important to the meeting present. Thomas Shelby, the man himself, was seated across from your father. He was as intimidating as you always believed he’d be, smooth voice having done nothing to calm you when he introduced himself.

John and Arthur, the two you were familiar with, were on his right while two more men by the name of Isaiah and Finn were on his left. They were one short in comparison to your father, his two brothers, your two brothers, and yourself, but an empty chair told you that one more was on their way. Seeing that the meeting had already begun, you deduced that their tardiness wasn’t a concern. Considering the nature of the meeting, a whole bunch of words that could be summed up into “who controls what”, you envied the mystery person’s absence. 

For minutes now, you had contributed nothing, but then again… That wasn’t your purpose. No, the purpose of your presence was to keep the men in line. Your entire purpose was to play on what few morals the men had, and you fought to hold in a laugh. With every member of your family being armed, you wondered if your father even believed this would work. Too busy stewing over how your father had purposely put you in harm’s way, you didn’t take notice of the pub door opening.

You were only pulled from your thoughts when the sound of footsteps finally registered. Considering that your back was to the door, you couldn’t see their face, and you didn’t want to appear nosey or unprofessional or draw attention to yourself in any way really by turning to look. You only glanced up when he finally came into your line of sight, and you observed him in the same manner that you did all the others.

Something about him reminded you of Thomas, but his features were much softer, not so harsh. However, that made him no less intimidating. He wasn’t sporting a hat, dark hair neatly pushed away from his face, and something about him was different from the rest. On his own, he didn’t look like he belonged with the rest of them, and as Thomas explained that he was their chief accountant, you got the feeling that that was purposely done. He introduced the man as Michael Gray, his cousin, and losing interest once again, you looked away.

You played with your fingers beneath the table, wanting to desperately be anywhere but here. You had a feeling that you’d get your wish very soon, taking note of the change in tone in your father’s voice. He sounded happier, relieved, and you glanced up at him, his relief contagious. As you did so, your eyes briefly connected with that of the newcomer, Michael, and you quickly looked away. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare, and you reluctantly returned it.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed at having been caught, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, a thick coil of smoke escaping them moments later. His face was hard to read, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. You blinked, eyes trailing to your brother on your father’s other side, but he seemed invested in the meeting. Everyone seemed to be...everyone but you and the man named Michael.

When your eyes met his again, it was just in time to watch him lean over, lips at his cousin’s ear as he whispered something to him. His gaze held yours the entire time. You glanced around again, feeling as if there was a meeting within a meeting going on, and you were the only one to notice. Brushing off the unease you felt, you sat back in your chair, eyes on the table. It was hard to ignore the heavy gaze that pinned you to your seat, but you fought to manage.

Especially since it seemed that an agreement was finally being made.

However, that sinking feeling in your chest traveled to your gut, settling there as you watched John move to whisper something to Thomas. The man, the leader of this great gang, paused for the briefest of moments. It happened so quickly, and John was back in his seat as if nothing had happened, and while Thomas’ words did not falter, the way his eyes briefly flickered to you had you straightening in your seat.

Your eyes fell onto the blue-eyed newcomer again, and he took another drag of his cigarette. Every single one of them wore smug expressions, from the first moment you’d been introduced to every individual man, you noticed that they all looked as if they owned the world. Michael Gray was no different, but the way he looked at you made you want to be as far away from here as possible. As more tendrils of smoke left his pink lips, you noted that he didn’t look at you like he just owned the world. He looked at you like he owned you too.

“Everything does seem to be in order, but...there is another matter I think we should discuss,” you heard Thomas Shelby say.

You looked to him, watching as he stood, his family following his lead and your family following theirs. You tightened your coat around you as Thomas gestured for your father to follow him into the back. His absence made you nervous, but you simply stepped closer to your brother as you watched him follow the other man.

“Let’s wait outside,” your brother said, and eager to be out of here, you hastily agreed.

Your other brother remained inside with your uncles while you followed Matthew, the middle child of you three, outside. 

“You alright?” he asked you as soon as you were in the fresh air. “You looked a bit tense in there.”

You watched him light a smoke, and you glanced away.

“The other one...the cousin, Michael… How much do you know about him?”

Matthew shrugged, exhaling.

“Not much. Doesn’t say much at the meetings, mostly handles the money,” he told you.

That did little to ease you.

“Why…?”

You were just about to tell him the reason for your curiosity when the door to The Garrison came flying open. You watched in shock as your father came storming out, your other brother and uncles hot on his tail.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, just as alarmed as you were.

Instead of an answer, your father simply grabbed your arm, and yanked you along. You almost tripped over your feet, and you looked at your father like he’d lost his mind. His face was clouded over, eyes thunderous, and you wondered what had happened in such a short time.

“What-?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, sounding the angriest you’d ever heard him, and your eyes widened at this.

“...but-.”

“I said quiet! Get in the car,” he spat.

He didn’t give you a chance to listen, opting for shoving you inside himself. Your foot was barely inside when he slammed the door shut, and you stared at the window in shock. Matthew joined you and your father in the car while the rest piled into the other vehicle. Your confusion only grew as the car roared to life, and you glanced up then to rest your eyes on a familiar face.

He leaned against the door to the pub, a fresh cigarette held between his lips as he lit it. His blue eyes were focused entirely on you, even as the smoke clouded his view and your father began to drive off, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything else but your trembling frame.

You sat at the dining table in shock, listening to the muffled sound of your father’s angry voice that traveled from his study. He was in there with the rest of the family, and he’d been in there for hours. He had barely looked at you when you all came home, heading straight for his office as he ordered the rest of the family inside. There was an unspoken agreement that that did not include you.

Still, the uneasiness from the meeting remained. You could still feel the heated gaze of the blue-eyed man, smell the smoke that drifted from his lips, see the way he watched you as he whispered to John. You could see the way Thomas had looked at you as John whispered to him, and this was what made you press your ear to your father’s study door hours earlier. This was what drove your curiosity to discover just what happened when you and your brother left.

“He wants her,” your father had forced out, sounding like he was going to be sick.

There was a long pause, and you had frowned in confusion.

“Who?” your other brother, Nathaniel, had eventually asked.

“The Gray kid! Polly’s son,” he spat as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He wants her.”

You could hear your father’s heavy breaths, hear him pacing, and the confirmation that the discussion was about Michael Gray did nothing to quell your confusion. The silence that followed was loud and heavy, something unspoken in the air that you had yet to understand.

“...what?” you heard one of your uncles murmur.

Your father heaved a sigh, sounding much calmer now.

“They are...prepared to meet us more than halfway if we let him have her,” he slowly said. “Everything we’ve been working towards, everything we’ve been yearning for… It could be ours in a matter of hours if we let him have her.”

“No!”

Nathaniel’s voice could be heard before your father even finished.

“Absolutely not-.”

“Nathaniel…”

“You’re not considering this...are you? Father…”

“They’ve given us the day to think it over-.”

“What is there to think about? She’s our sister, your daughter, not some whore on the street,” Matthew interrupted, his words making you freeze.

Bile threatened to spill from your lips as you stared at the door, slowly backing away, their voices becoming less clear as you did so. Your back was pressed to the wall as the truth settled over you, and you suddenly felt foolish for failing to put it together sooner. Your stomach swirled, fear settling into your bones, and before you knew it, your head was in the commode, expelling everything you’d eaten that day. The tears had come shortly after, and that was how Matthew found you hours later, sitting at the table with tears in your eyes.

“I know you heard,” he said, sitting across from you.

You hesitantly looked up at him as he poured a glass of whiskey.

“You never could keep your nose out of things. Told you years ago to stop listening in on father’s conversations-.”

“Well, I’m glad I did this time,” you tearfully spat.

Matthew sighed, sliding the glass towards you.

“I think you deserve it tonight,” he said as you threw him an odd look.

Your shoulders sagged, and you gratefully accepted it, scrunching your face up at the strong taste that hit your tongue. The both of you sat there in silence for a while, listening to your father’s muffled voice, and you took another sip.

“What’s he going to do?”

Your fear must have been evident because his hand rested on yours on the table.

“Hey...he’s not going to agree, alright? He would never…”

You shook your head before he even finished, sniffling as you took another sip.

“I don’t know, Matthew. I don’t know,” you breathed.

Your eyes met his, and he frowned at you.

“These past few months or so… He’s been different, and you know it. He’s made deals before, but it’s different this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is so close. It’s different this time, and you know it, Matthew.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. You both knew that it was different this time, and you shuddered to think about what tomorrow would bring.

The next day came and went, much to your relief, and although you were glad that your father didn’t give into the Peaky Blinders, into what they wanted from you...what he wanted from you, it was still an unacknowledged elephant in the room. They still left the house for business, but you didn’t know if it was with the Blinders or not. You shuddered to think of how that conversation went when your father refused their offer. 

You got the feeling that they weren’t used to not getting their way.

It was three nights later, three nights since that fateful meeting in which you’d caught the eye of Michael Gray, that you left your room to get a glass of water. The house was dark and quiet, an unusual sight seeing as at least one brother was usually up late in the kitchen, drinking or having a smoke. That wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

The kitchen was empty of anyone else, and you drank your water slowly. You hoped that things would be better now. You recalled how relieved your father had looked over the past few days, how much softer his features looked, and you desperately hoped that it was because the family was finally on the right track. You made your way back into the hall, glass pressed to your lips, when you paused.

The only light in the living room came from the moon, it’s rays bleeding through the windows and onto the furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take note of the shape that didn’t belong. The shape of a man. Light flooded the room, and all of your breath left you, glass shattering at your feet.

You stared at him in shock, taking in everything from his neat hair to his shiny dark shoes. He was dressed much like he was the first day you met him, a dark grey almost black looking suit hugging his frame. He leaned back in your father’s chair, nursing a glass of Brandy, and it was then that you realized he’d been here for a while.

“Father!”

It was instinctual now, how your father was the first person you ran to. He didn’t respond, and you called for him again, cutting yourself off when a smirk slowly danced along Michael’s lips. Your mind whirled, and dread filled you.

“What are you doing in my house? Where is my father?”

A small chuckle escaped him, eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled out a cigarette. 

“What do you think I’m doing here, love?”

Your entire body froze, the implication behind his words clear, and you shook your head. You called for Matthew...then Nathaniel...then your uncles and your father again. The only thing that met you was silence, and your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden. The weight of your predicament fully settled over you, and you slowly shook your head.

“No,” you breathed in disbelief. “...no.”

The man before you didn’t respond, simply pressing the cigarette between his lips, reaching in his pockets for a light, no doubt.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was what you said, what your lips formed, but your heart and your head didn’t agree. Something didn’t feel right from the moment you woke up, and a part of you that you desperately wished would shut up did believe him. 

“Do you really think your father would allow anyone into his home without his knowledge or permission?”

You watched him pull a drag, smoke filling the air, and you stumbled back, running for the door. You didn’t hear him behind you, and for that you were relieved, but your relief was short lived. Upon swinging the door open, you were met with the sight of John and Arthur Shelby dawdling in your driveway. They appeared to be having a conversation when you opened the door, their voices abruptly cutting off at your appearance. John simply smirked at you from around the smoke in his mouth, Arthur tipping his hat towards you.

“‘Ello, sweetheart.”

With a shriek, you slammed the door shut in their faces, chest heaving with uneven breaths as the situation fully resonated with you. You stumbled back further into the hallway, and Michael was still in the same place as before, nursing a cigarette as you fought to figure out a way out of this.

“You can’t...you can’t do this,” you eventually murmured, glaring at him.

Michael simply fixed you with an even stare, smoke escaping from his nose, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, love. I can do whatever I want.”

He said it with so much conviction that you knew he believed it, and the longer you stared at him, the more you believed it too. You warily glanced around, telling yourself that you might actually have to fight this man, might have to fight to protect what your father had wrongly given away. Even though part of you denied it, you slowly accepted that Michael was telling the truth. Despite the fact that your family’s business and even lives were at stake, your father had no right to trade away what didn’t belong to him.

Michael’s eyes never left you as you stood there, and you finally looked to him again when he cleared his throat. The cigarette rested between his lips as he slipped out of his jacket, and you swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. He took another drag.

“Before you do...whatever it is that you’re about to do…”

He parted his mouth, the smoke swirling in there for a bit before pressing his lips together, tendrils escaping his nose.

“You should know that I’ve shot men in the head with no hesitation. I drug my blade across a man’s throat once and reveled in the taste of his blood on my lips.”

You flinched, taking a step back.

“When Tommy first tried to scare me away, threaten to send me back to the village in which I grew up… I told him about a well there, that I’d blow it up with dynamite if he made me go back...didn’t care if my hands went with it.”

He finished his cigarette, putting the rest of it out, eyes boring into yours as he slowly exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in.

“I just knew it’d be worth it to see those pretty white bricks all over that pretty village green...and I meant every word of that.”

You didn’t respond, and his blue eyes slowly dragged over every part of you, taking you in from your hair all the way to your bare feet, lingering on the thin nightgown in between.

“It’s something about the violence, you see.”

His words unnerved you, and he continued.

“The violence, the blood...the fight...it does something to me. Gets me excited, all riled up, so please…”

He gestured towards you, eyes glinting with something that made your heart stop.

“Do fight back, hit me even… It’ll just make me want to fuck you that much harder.”

The tears finally skipped down your cheeks, and you stumbled back as he stood to his full height. With a shaky breath, you staggered up the stairs, running to the last room at the end of the hall, a guest room. You were quick to pull the window up, looking down below in worry. It was high up, that was for sure, but the alternative was worse.

Before you could even get a foot out, warm hands pressed into your stomach, pulling you back against a broad chest. A startled scream left your lips, and Michael’s hands traveled to your arms, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you tight. You leaned your head away from him as he pressed his face into your neck, breathing you in.

“Your father made a big mistake bringing you around us, eh?”

You couldn’t will your lips to move, too paralyzed with fear and nerves and anxiety for the unknown. The way he touched you was foreign, the scent that clung to him, a mix of cologne and expensive liquor and cigarettes, was foreign. The creeping sensation that blanketed your body was foreign. All of this was foreign, and more tears pooled within your eyes as the inevitable drew closer.

“He thought you’d keep us in line, keep us on leashes...but ever since I saw you, the only thing I wanted to do was take you like a fucking animal.”

You jerked in his hold, fighting to get away from him, but Michael tsk’d. 

“Let’s not spoil this, hmm? You seem like a good girl...if you catch my drift.”

More tears fell at his words, and he hummed.

“You do. You strike me as a well behaved lady of the house...and you girls like for this to be special, yeah? All gentle and loving,” he slowly mocked as he forced you towards the bed.

He shoved you onto it, knees pressing down on either side of you soon after, preventing you from going anywhere. Your tears soaked the sheet, and Michael’s fingers ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”

He gently turned you over onto your back, and you stared up at the man before you. Even in the darkness, you could see the blue of his eyes perfectly. They were bright and filled with a hunger that scared you, a hunger you had never been on the receiving end of before. Michael leaned over you, caging you beneath him as he pressed his forehead to yours, soon followed by his lips.

You’d kissed men before, but they were soft sweet nothings that could barely be called a kiss. You knew that if you wanted to marry well, contribute something of substance to your family, you had to be smart about your actions...your reputation. All of the men, realizing that you weren’t going to give them what they wanted, left. Accepting that your family and reputation came first, they always left, and it hurt every single time. 

But it will be worth it.

That’s what you constantly told yourself. After every heartbreak, every sneer, every harsh insult thrown your way about what a frigid bitch you were, you told yourself that it would be worth it. And yet...here you were...beneath a gangster, having your reputation ripped away from you by a man who stole and murdered and wasn’t decent in any way.

Life was funny.

After slipping out of his shirt, the flimsy material floating somewhere behind him, Michael guided your hands to his chest. Your trembling fingers danced along his taut skin, taking note of an imperfection. An old bullet wound, you deduced. The dark-haired man groaned into your mouth, pressing into you, and you could feel him hard beneath his trousers. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to slink around your neck like a noose, and you didn’t even realize that you’d started panting until Michael’s hand found your neck.

“I-I can’t- I can’t do this-.”

He shushed you, kissing you again.

“Behave...and I’ll be good to you. Breathe,” he urged.

You slowly did as he suggested, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand pushed the smooth material of your nightgown up your legs. One hand was still on your throat as that same hand traveled to his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. Your whole body went numb for a moment, ears ringing and vision blurring, and when you finally came back to earth, Michael’s hips were pressing against yours, nothing in between you.

He was speaking to you, you noted.

“...what?” you murmured.

“What’s your name, love?”

You swallowed, quickly darting your tongue out to swipe over your lips.

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, clearly liking the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded at you, drinking you in as he ran his eyes over your face, seemingly committing you to memory before sliding into you with one quick thrust. Your nails pressed into his skin, and he hissed, your own lips parting to let out a pained gasp. Michael held himself above you, a low groan escaping him as his forehead touched yours again.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, nose bumping against yours.

He held himself there for a long time, just feeling you. You weren’t naïve enough to think he did it for your sake, and you got the feeling that he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. When he did finally move, your chest arched upwards, unable to handle the unfamiliar feeling. His hand was still on your neck, and you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

The feel of him inside of you was strange. You couldn’t describe it, but you felt full...you felt stretched...and in a way, it felt unnatural, but the heat that festered deep within your stomach said otherwise. One of Michael’s hands was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could look at you. You remembered his words, and too terrified to disobey, you fought to keep your eyes on him.

His face was strained with concentration, eyes flickering between your face and down to where the two of you connected. The hand that was on your neck slid down to your chest, thumb brushing over a heaving breast before resting on your stomach, pinning you down as he snapped his hips into yours. It was too much for you, too much at once, and your lashes fluttered. 

“Look at me,” he roughly breathed.

“I can’t...I can’t,” you panted, head twisting from side to side.

You could hardly focus on anything other than the way he was thrusting into you, taking you to heights you never knew existed. He called your name then, and you reluctantly met his eyes, the hunger in them making you shudder.

“That’s right. Eyes on me, love. Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you,” he murmured.

The smugness in his voice and face made you frown, a spark of anger in you.

“Do you fuck all of your girls like this? Huh?”

He didn’t respond, pink lips simply curving upwards into a humorous smirk.

“...or am I special because you get to ruin my life and go on with yours?” you shakily spat.

Michael slammed into you then, forcing a choked gasp from you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just focus on milking my cock, hmm?”

You wanted to hit him, spit at him, do anything other than lay there and take his unrelenting thrusts, but your body seized before you could do any of that. Your toes curled and your stomach clenched and your body shook as stars exploded behind your eyes. You hadn’t even realized what a moaning mess you had become until Michael paused just to listen to you, just taking you in with something akin to awe on his face.

You didn't have time to catch your breath before he was chasing his own high, hands pressed into your waist so hard you were sure you’d bruise. Your nails dug into his wrists, choked moans tumbling from your mouth as you clenched around him again, just in time for him to spill into you, releasing a long breath as he did so. You clung to him, tears catching in your lashes as you laid there, mind whirling at what you’d just done.

You flinched, shrinking in on yourself when his lips brushed the corner of your mouth just before pulling out of you. You winced at the action, staring up at the ceiling as you heard him moving about. You turned your head when you heard the strike of a match and watched as he lit himself another cigarette, pants just barely settling on his waist.

“So what happens now?” you finally asked, voice low in the dark room. 

Would your father and brothers come through that door tomorrow, pretending that they hadn’t sold you out? Would they be able to even look at you? Stomach the sight of you? Fresh tears kissed your eyes just as Michael spoke.

“Well…”

He took a pull, exhaling the smoke through his nose as he neared you.

“...I’m going to fuck you at least three more times before the night is over.”

You sat up at this, paying no mind to the pain in between your legs as you stared at him with wide eyes. Without realizing it, you gripped the end of your nightgown, pulling it to your knees as if somehow trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“What-?”

“...and then I want you to pack a bag. Just some things that’ll last you a few days. I’ll be buying you a whole new lot of clothes anyway.”

“Michael-.”

“You’re my girl, now,” he quietly said, voice firm as he stood over you, free hand playing with the strap of your gown as the other held his cigarette to his lips.

You shook your head, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I...no. My family...they-.”

“Sold you away without a second thought.”

Your heart clenched as he threw that in your face, and you turned away as he reached for you. His fingers pinched your chin, jerking you to face him, and you swallowed. He bent down, staring into your eyes.

“You won’t have to worry about that with us...with me.”

He took one more pull of his cigarette before placing it on the nightstand, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose and mouth just before he pressed his lips to yours, fingers pressing into your skin as he settled between your legs.

~

tags: @cocoamoonmalfoy @trinittyy @ziamslarry-blog @a531a​ @s-u-t​ @sunshinechim-98​ @callmechannel​ @lil-hungryy​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @scissorkidscult​  @madamerubrum  

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 16

Chapter 1     Chapter 15

Marinette blinked as the room around her slowly came into focus.  She tried to bring her hand up to rub her head to help alleviate her pulsing headache but her hands weren’t responding.  It felt like there was a weight on them.  Or like they were being held down, bound.  Marinette’s eyes flew open and her heart started pounding as she searched the room for the akuma.  She looked at her hands and silently cursed to herself.  Not only were her arms bound to the arms of a wooden chair, she saw her own naked hands instead of her distinct red suit.  

She groaned and looked around for any clues to where she was being held and what the akuma might be.  If she could figure out their powers, she might be able to figure out how to get out of this.  She stopped when she saw a man in a green suit making his way toward her.  She blinked a few more times taking in his suit and hat.  “Is that… are those question marks?  Are you a question akuma?” she muttered out in French.

The man tilted his head at her.  “You’ll find English is necessary if you want to get out of this one alive, young Wayne.”

Marinette stared at the man a few more seconds, letting his words settle in her head as things started to click in her mind.  She wasn’t in Paris.  This wasn’t an akuma, because there weren’t akumas anymore. She and Adrien had defeated his father. She was in Gotham.  She had been on her way home after a disastrous dinner at the Wayne’s. This was a Gotham villain, not a Parisian one.  This was the Riddler.

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief before her face scrunched in frustration.  “Are you kidding me?  Are you kidding me right now?  You had to do this right now?”

“Oh, I never kid about riddles.  Now, is not the time to panic, Little Lady,” he taunted.

“Oh, you have no fucking clue.  Now is most definitely NOT the time, but you made it the time,” she hissed at him.  “Do you have ANY idea how bad my week is going?  My night?  Do you? Do you have any idea of the trauma and nightmares I’m going to have to deal with already?  And that was before you forced me to witness your suit in person. And can you comprehend the mental and emotional cataclysm I’m already going to have to endure?  And you’re pulling this shit?  Now?”

“I’m just going to ask a few questions and then it’ll all be over and then you can have your little mental breakdown,” he jeered condescendingly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to lunge at him, but her chest was tied to the chair, holding her back, and she’d never hated rope more than she did in that moment.  She growled and glared at him.  “Oh thank you for the permission.  And for the record, it won’t be little.  It’s going to be a monufuckingmental breakdown.  Thank you very much.  Granted it isn’t everything on Earth is destroyed but me and one other person, who caused it in the first place, level of bad.  But I think I’m justified in needing to take a fucking second to think and process. A second I’m not going to fucking get now am I?  Because of you.”  She turned her head to the side in frustration but her eyes got caught on a small red light.  Her mouth dropped open.  “Are you recording this?” she yelled at him.  That complicated things considerably.  Now she needed to watch her words.  Now she needed to make sure she didn’t expose anything.  Well that just sucked even more.

“Well, it wouldn’t be much of a game show without an audience, now would it,” he purred.

She scowled at him.  “By all means, record this to watch later.  Most people aren’t looking to get bitch slapped as hard as you’re going to get so publicly, but to each their own, I guess.  But, consent is a thing and next time, keep me out of it.”

She strained against the ropes holding her hands to the chair arms.  She glowered at him when they proved too tight for her to move her wrists.  “Also, it’s already not much of a game show.  If you have to knock out people and tie them down just to get them to play, either your show sucks or your host does.  Or in this case, both.”

“Now, now,” he snarled, his smile considerably more strained than it had been before.  “We’re just testing the newest Wayne to see how you’re going to fit in.”

“I could have told you that without all this,” she glowered.  “But you wanted to be a big man and ask a question.  So ask your little question.  Be a big man putting a bound, petite, non-native English speaking woman, in her place.  Although if that’s what it takes to make you feel like a man, that’s one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever heard.”

Riddler seethed at her, attempting to keep his face neutral, but failing spectacularly.  One of the Waynes should be afraid of him.  He had been hoping the new one would finally give him a Wayne that cowered in fear.  Instead, he got yet another feral child.  He gripped his question mark staff tightly, fighting the urge to hit her with it.  It was too early to start.  She’d get her punishment soon enough.  He looked up with a grin.  Very soon.

He looked back at her with a sadistic smirk. “Fine.  I’d hate to keep a lady waiting.  Perhaps first I should start with the stakes.”  He moved closer to smile in her face.  “Think well on your answer young Wayne, because for every question you get wrong,” he pointed up with his staff, “a knife falls.”

Marinette let out a deep, annoyed sigh and looked up to see a series of knives tied to the ceiling right above her seat.  She sighed and gave him a flat look. “Really?  That’s the best you could do?  You realize what I’ve been faced with before, right? Or did you not do your research?”  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You look like a man who never does his research.”

Riddler sidled up to her in a step, his face a few centimeters from her own.  “We can start by testing out the knives if you’d prefer.”

Marinette leaned her head back.  Even if she couldn’t talk him out of making one drop, it wasn’t going to get her.  They would miraculously get diverted just enough to miss her.  Luck could be a bitch when it was against you and he’d left too much up to chance.  “Already changing the rules of the game?  What were you saying about a good game show?  Guess you really don’t care.”

“Fine!” Riddler screamed.  He walked away a few steps and turned back to her with a malicious glint in his eyes.  “Let’s start slow, shall we?  Starting in 1881, this hall brightened Paris’ nights while darkening its satire.  What is the name of this baby of Salis?”

Marinette stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Her face went slack.

Riddler leered down at her, his face breaking into a creepy grin at her apparent inability to answer his question.  “Oh, how sad.”  He gave her a mock pout.  “Looks like the new Wayne isn’t so smart after all.  What do they see in you anyway?  Can’t even answer a simple, easy question.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Marinette finally burst out.

Riddler frowned at her.  Instead of the fear he expected, her voice was incredulous and angry. “That’s the question, if you can’t answer…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  That’s not a… You’re the Riddler.  That’s not a riddle!  That’s a… are you okay?  Like, seriously.  Are you okay?  Because I think… You know what?”  She took a deep steadying breath.  She opened her eyes to give him a serious look, completely devoid of fear, leaning more towards concerned.  

“I think you need a break.  I think you need to take a bit of time to reassess, refocus, and recenter yourself.  Then you can come back and be the Riddler I know you can be.  Because this,” she tried to motion toward him, “this is not it. That is... that isn't a riddle!  That's trivia!  You inaccurately named, evil Alex Trebek!  This would be a perfect opportunity to say I’m in Jeopardy, clueless asshole. So disappointed right now.”  She shook her head in disappointment, refusing to even look at him.

Riddler seethed at her, his face turning red with anger.  “Look either answer the question or…”

“THAT’S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!” she screamed at him. “It’s a question, not a riddle.  And you missed a golden opportunity to ask a follow up question and saying it’s Double Jeopardy.  You missed the obvious pun!  This is why I say you need to take a break.  This isn’t you.  You’re better than this, I know you are.  I’m just… I’m worried about your mental health.”  She gave him a concerned look.

“If you can’t answer…” he snapped at her.  He gripped and regripped his question staff menacingly, leaning toward her with a snarl.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the attempt at intimidation. “Of course I can answer.  I’m from Paris and you’re asking about Le Chat Noir? Of course I know the answer.  Let me guess, your next question is about a ladybug,” she chirped, widening her eyes with false excitement.

Her face dropped the false sweetness and turned back into an aggravated frown.  “That’s not the fucking point.  My point is you interrupted my fucking abomination of a night for this bullshit and you’re not even on top of your game.  So I not only get shoved into the spotlight, against my will, by people violating my and my parents’ privacy, forcing Mon… my father to ramp up plans for my introduction.  Making sure my family and I knew we weren’t safe and exposing me to this bullshit along with the other attempts on me since it happened.”

Her frown turned into a disgusted sneer.  “And I was actually afraid for a moment because I thought you were an akuma, but you’re really just an underprepared asshole. It’s insulting frankly.”

Riddler swung his question mark staff at her catching her across her cheek.  He grinned at the blood trickling down her cheek.  Marinette glared up at him but refused to let a grunt of pain pass her lips. “Next question, hopefully this one is more to your liking.”  His eyes took on a malevolent glint.

Marinette’s eyes flicked behind him.  He smirked at her inability to make eye contact any longer. “No,” she interrupted, a smirk forming on her own lips.  “It’s my turn.  I have one for you.  It’s actually in the form of a riddle, if you think you can handle that.”  The Riddler growled at her and moved closer to tower over her threateningly.  “What lights up the day with black against yellow yet lights up the night with yellow against black.  It brings hope to those who see it yet marks your demise.  What is it?”

Riddler narrowed his eyes at her and backed away to get some space while he thought.  He looked down for a second, searching the ground as though it might hold the answer for him.  He suddenly looked up, his eyes bright with realization.  “A signal!” he exclaimed, jumping with excitement.  His face suddenly fell realizing the words that passed his lips.  

He spun around just in time for Signal to punch him in the jaw.  Riddler stumbled back falling backward on his ass.  Signal stalked toward him, eskrima sticks out and ready.  He kept his eyes on Riddler but raised his voice so Marinette could hear him.  “You alright, Ma’am?”

“I’m fine.  Just pissed,” she grunted.  She focused on her bindings, trying to figure out a way to loosen them enough to get out.

Signal smirked and gave a short nod.  “Preying on young women again?  Not a good look for you.”

“Penguin and Scarecrow both tried and couldn’t get to her.  I did,” he said defiantly, his chest puffing out even as he was slumped on the floor. “Penguin got to the museum too early. Scarecrow got to the hotel too late. But me?  I plan better.”

“And got a verbal bitch slap the likes of which Gotham has never seen for your trouble.”  Signal shook his head in mock sympathy and regripped his sticks. “Publicly.”

Riddler sneered at Signal.  “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Marinette called from her seat.  She pointed at him threateningly with her now miraculously freed right hand.  “Next time I’ll do it physically too.”

Signal grinned proudly and snorted at her comment. Riddler growled before looking back up at Signal with an angry scowl.  “Looks like this show has come to an end.  But we’ll be back after a short break.”  He hit his staff hard on the ground and a gas started emitting from it, obscuring Signal’s view.  Signal backed away and rushed over to Marinette, uncertain if the gas was dangerous.

He pulled out a knife and quickly sliced through the remaining ropes and helped her get free.  “Can you walk?”

Marinette started sprinting toward the exit.  “I can do better than that,” she called over her shoulder.  “You just going to stand there and let the gas get you?”  Signal smirked and followed her out.

She grunted as her shoulder rammed into the doorframe when she miscalculated the distance.  She silently cursed how long it was taking her brain to recover from having been knocked out.  Now out of the room she stopped running and rubbed her head as if willing it to kick back into gear.

“You sure you’re okay?” Signal asked catching up to her.

Marinette couldn’t see his eyes under his mask but the bottom half of his face seemed to be contorted in concern.  She grumbled noncommittally in response and rubbed her shoulder.  She looked around them quickly.  “You sure this is a safe way out?  He has to have had help.  I don’t see him doing his own dirty work.”

Signal nodded.  “He did have help.  But, so do I.”  He nodded behind him.

Marinette craned her neck around him to look behind him. She cringed as she saw Red Hood kneeing someone in the face.  The goon fell limply to the ground, unconscious before he hit.  Red Hood looked up and ran over to them as soon as he spotted her.  “Pi… uh… pretty impressive mouth,” he stuttered.  He looked over her closely as he could without touching her.  His eyes zeroed in on her cheek.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds missing the incredulous look Signal tried to give him.  “Um… thanks… I think.”  She blinked a few more times before frowning.  “Yeah, can we not talk about my mouth, please?”

Red Hood choked on nothing and shook his head, leaning away, as if trying to get away from the idea.  “I meant your att…” he shook his head again and looked back at her. “Not a problem.  Let’s never talk about it again.  Are you okay?  Did he hurt you anywhere else?”  His eyes scanned her again and stopped at her wrists.

Marinette rubbed her wrists self-consciously. “No…” she started.  “I mean!  No he didn’t hurt me anywhere else.  But I am okay,” she rushed out when she saw him tense up at her words.

“Where is he?” Red Hood growled, still staring at her wrists.

“Got away,” Signal answered.

Red hood rounded on him, his entire body tensed for a fight.  “What do you mean he got away?”

Marinette stepped between them and pushed Red Hood back gently.  “He released some kind of gas.  He got me out of there before we found out what it did.  Seems like a good move considering how he got me in the first place.”

Red Hood looked down at her for a second before looking up to Signal with a nod.  He remembered seeing the gas dissipating when they finally caught up to where she was taken.  It had looked like there was enough to knock out an entire city block.  Definitely overkill, but spoke to Riddler’s desperation to be the first to kidnap her.  “Idea which direction he went?”

Signal sighed a heavy sigh.  “I didn’t see which way he went but it had to be out the west side of the room, but that’s all I got.”

Red Hood nodded and touched his com.  “You got that?”  He paused for a moment listening to whatever was being said over his com.  “Yes, she’s fine.  A few rope burns and a cut on her cheek, but seems okay other than that.”

Signal nodded and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do you have family we can call?”

Marinette shook her head absentmindedly, the strain of the night starting to hit.  “No, I can call my brother.  He’s probably terrified about me.”

Red Hood seemed to freeze.  “Just… the one brother?  You… aren’t you one of the Waynes?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face paled.  She plastered a smile on her face. “Right.  Yes.  Of course. I… I meant my one brother was with me at the time.  Yes. Yeah.  The Waynes are my family.  I’m a… I’m… Yeah, I’m a… Wayne,” she barely managed to get the word out of her mouth.  It felt wrong and foreign on her tongue.  She smiled wider at them.  “But you don’t… you don’t have to bother them.  They’re all busy.”

“Yeah, looking for you,” Red Hood answered back sharply.  “They’re the ones that called us.  They’re terrified right now.”

“I think they’d want to know,” Signal urged gently, his voice heartfelt and slightly pained.

She let out a bitter scoff before she could stop herself.  She squeezed her eyes shut and mentally berated her still drugged mind for letting that slip out.  “I meant,” she started loudly, “I’ll inform someone.  They’d want to… hear it from me,” she finished quietly.

Red Hood took a breath and moved closer to her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders.  “I promise you, they’re worried about you and they would want to know. They’d want to make sure you’re okay. They’d want to make sure you feel safe. They would want to protect you. In fact, I’d expect to see a lot more of them over the next few days.”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer but got interrupted by the police breaking into the room.  Marinette pursed her lips and seemed to let a calm come over her.  Red Hood looked harder at her change as the police led her off to take her statement.  No, it wasn’t calm.  It was a numbness, an absence of any feelings.  His face contorted into a scowl.  Exactly what Adrien had described.  “You get that,” Red Hood snapped into his com.  He waited a few seconds before shaking his head.  

“That’s a fool’s bet,” Signal scoffed.  “Of course she’s not going to.  She might send a text.  And even then I bet it won’t be much.”

Red Hood listened for a few more seconds before he shook his head again.  “I’m not taking that bet either.”  He watched as Adrien just stopped himself from tackling Marinette in his excitement to see her again.  After what looked like a worried conversation, he saw Adrien pull her into a tight hug and Marinette melt into it.  “We need to fix this and quick before B does anything else to completely destroy any chance we have,” Red Hood snarled.  He turned and started grappling away.  “I’m going rogue hunting.”

Chapter 17

Tags:

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[slytherinwh0re]

Secret Santa

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: where you and Draco are friends with benefits and you get him for secret Santa.

Masterlist

Requested by @beiahadid, I hope you like it (:

A/N: it’s never too early to get in the Christmas spirit, I’m gonna have a few holiday themed fics. Also this gif does things to me lmao

“Please Pans, I’ll do anything.” You beg her for what feels like the hundredth time.

Every year before Christmas a bunch of you would throw your names in a hat for what the muggles call, “secret Santa”. This year you got Crabbe, usually it wouldn’t be a big deal but you desperately wanted to get Draco. Luckily Pansy had gotten him but she was being slightly difficult to persuade, even though you knew she didn’t actually care and would eventually agree, she just thoroughly enjoys getting under your skin.

“Fine, but you owe me big time (y/n).” Says your best friend while handing over the small piece of parchment with the name Malfoy written across it, finally giving in.

“Have I ever told you you’re the best?” You hug the girl as she rolls her eyes but hugs you back nonetheless.

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand. “You still sure you two aren’t dating?”

“I’ve already told you multiple times we aren’t Pansy.” The blush on your cheeks makes her smirk, loving the reaction she gets out of you.

You and Draco had agreed earlier in the year that your relationship was strictly friends with benefits. However recently you found yourself wishing that the nights you spent together would never end. The thought of him being all yours became more and more endearing, especially when he’d cuddle you after the mind blowing sex.

“Right, you just fuck about five time a week and make puppy dog eyes at each other the rest of the time.” She teases, cutting off your thoughts of the handsome boy.

“We do not make puppy dog eyes at each other.” You huff at the laughing girl.

“Whatever you say (y/l/n). What do you plan on getting him anyways?” She asks, changing the subject for your own sake.

“This ring he was looking at in Hogsmead last weekend and possibly a little something extra for when we’re in private.” You wiggle your eyebrows at her, making her shake her head and laugh at your silly antics.

“You get to have sex and I get to buy a gift for Crabbe, this just isn’t bloody fair.” Pansy jokes, making both of you laugh as you enter charms class.

***

After saying your goodbyes to Pansy and a few of your other friends you went back into your empty dorm, getting ready for the night ahead of you. You’d decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays since your parents would be away on vacation, it had nothing to do with Draco staying behind. At least that’s what you like to tell yourself, besides, this was the perfect opportunity to give him your gifts.

During your last class of the day you had sent him a note telling him to meet you in your dorm, as you had many times before. Now you lay on your bed waiting for him in a short silky robe, concealing what your wore underneath.

Finally you hear a knock on your door, making your stomach flutter with excitement. You open it without hesitation, allowing the tall blonde into your room, his eyes immediately raking over your figure.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He says, his arms already wrapped around your waist and pulling you in for a heated kiss, not giving you a chance to respond.

“Patience Draco, I have something I’d like to give you.” You push him off before you get too caught up in the moment and forget to give him his first gift. You take his hand and lead him over to your bed and grab the small box off your nightstand, handing it to him.

He looks from you to the box while smiling. “What’s this?”

“I’m your secret Santa.” You explain as you watch him open the box and look at the black metal ring in awe as he slides it onto his pointer finger. “I saw you looking at it in Hogsmead a few weeks back and I know how much you love rings so I figured I’d get it for you.”

“This is bloody amazing (y/n), thank you.” Draco says expressing his gratitude by pulling you in a for short sweet kiss that puts you on cloud nine. He’s never kissed you like that before and you can’t help but wish that it’d become a more regular occurrence. 

“I’ve got you something else as well.” You say, moving to stand in-between his legs where he sits on the edge of your bed. Your hands find the small knot at the front of your robe, his eyes watching your every move as you finally let it drop to the floor. You watch his eyes darken as the lacy white lingerie is revealed to him, the material hugging every curve on your body perfectly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words make you blush, the look of excitement on his face is enough to have you sinking to your knees in front of him. Your hands get to work on his belt and you can already feel your arousal pooling in between you legs just by the way he’s looking at you. Once you unzip his pants you pull them off along with his boxers. 

“Already this hard for me?” You say as you stroke him slowly, your eyes never looking away from him, loving the effect you have on the slytherin. 

“I’ve been hard since I walked through the door and saw you in that tiny robe.” He admits, making you giggle. 

“Happy holidays Draco.” Is all you say as you bring your lips to his dick, kissing the tip, and then taking as much of him as you could. The moans that leave his mouth encourage you to lower your head until he hit the back of your throat making you gag and you watch as he throws his head back. 

His hand gathers all your hair and wraps it around his fist, making you moan around him. You hollow your cheeks and your hand strokes what you can’t fit, making sure to swirl your tongue against the tip.  

“You look so fucking innocent, all doe eyed and wrapped in white lingerie with my cock in your mouth.” Draco says as he looks down at you, your eyes trained on his as you continue to bob you head. 

The hand he had wrapped around your hair pulls you off of him and brings you to stand in front of him again. His hands run up the sides of your body, making you shiver, one of them reaching behind you to unclasp the strappy bra. 

Once it falls to the floor his lips immediately wrap around one of your nipples, his hand massaging the other breast, and your hands find his blonde hair. He lowers his other hand to your panties, his fingers massaging you over them, and you can just tell he has a smirk on his lips because of how wet you already are. 

“Always so ready for me darling.” He mumbles against your skin. You push him back on to the bed and take the liberty of taking your own panties off before climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, making sure your slick folds are pressed against his dick. You tug on his t-shirt and he yanks it off.

“Only for you Draco.” You say as you grab his dick and line him up with your entrance before sinking down onto him. You throw you head back moaning his name, his hands never leaving your body, one of them holding onto your hip to help you bounce faster. 

“Look at you, riding my dick like the filthy girl you are.” He has both arms behind his head now, watching you ride him like your life depends on it. He feels so deep all you can do is moan his name. 

Suddenly he has you flipped over so he’s on top and you can’t hold back the screams that leave your mouth as he pounds into you. His hand wraps around your throat and you feel the cold metal of the rings on his fingers, that sexy smirk never leaving his face as he completely wrecks you. 

“Oh Draco.” You moan as he keeps up the torturous pace, your legs already shaking. He brings his lips down to yours and you know you won’t last much longer.

“Cum on my dick (y/n), I want to feel you.” He says and that's all it takes for you to let go. You clench around him and you feel his hips begin to stutter before he’s releasing into you. Both you riding out your highs while holding onto each other, moaning the others name. 

Draco gets up and cleans both of you up before laying back in bed to cuddle like he usually does. His arms wrap around you and you snuggle your head into his chest. 

“Those were the best gifts I’ve ever received.” He tells you, making you smile against him. 

“I’m glad you liked them.” You whisper.

“I loved them, and now we have all winter break to spend together, it couldn’t get any better.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself dozing off, sad that you know he won’t be here in the morning since he leaves once you fall asleep. 

Your last thoughts before succumbing to sleep are about the boy you’re in love with but can’t have. 

[slasherhaven]

hi i was wondering on how the slashers would react if their s/o helped their victim escape. Like what would they do...

The Slashers reacting to their S/O helping a victim to escape:

Thomas Hewitt 

Thomas will actually try to cover for you.

If Hoyt asks what the hell happened, Thomas would shrug, the victim just got away but don’t worry, he’ll get them back. And he does, he always does.

At the end of the day, you both know that you need to talk.

He’s sympathetic. He genuinely understands how you feel, he feels the same way too sometimes. He only does this for the family and you know that, he’s told you that.

He’ll try to comfort you, knowing that it bothered you.

But remember that this is about survival, it’s for the family and that includes you now. You have to understand and get on board, you don’t have to do anything to help with that side of things, he wants to protect you from that, but you do have to allow it to happen. And he’s sorry about that.

Michael Myers

It was one of the rare time Michael let you accompany him on one of his kills.

Michael was more confused than anything. Why would you come along just to let the victim get away like that? 

Whatever, he’s going to go catch them because you know that he can. Did you even really think you were helping them or were you just giving them a few more minutes of hope?

Surprisingly doesn’t even get that mad, just gives you a glare as he passes you.

Either way, Michael just isn’t going let you accompany him again. He’s a little irritated by it but it’s quickly solved. You’re staying home from now on.

Jason Voorhees 

Jason loves you for your kindness and empathy but this is a problem.

He can’t really be mad at you, you’re just trying to save a teenagers life or give them more of a chance.

You even apologised to him. He just sighed and went on to try to find the victim.

When you asked if he was mad at you, he just shook his head.

This whole thing was complicated. You accepted him for who he was but of course you didn’t want people to die.

Next time he would just ensure you stay at the cabin. You wouldn’t have to see what happened out in the camp and hopefully you wouldn’t feel responsible for the deaths.

He preferred you to stay there anyway, it was safer for you.

Bo Sinclair 

Are you fucking serious? Why would you do something as stupid as that?!

Bo is pissed. You’ve put all of them at risk.

Firstly, he is taking that damn shotgun and hunting down the idiot you helped escape. Then, he’s handing the victim over to Vincent and he’ll deal with you.

You’re going to get shouted at...a lot. He’s never been so mad at you and we all know how Bo can let his anger get the best of him.

He’s not going to get physical but the anger in his voice is enough to make you hang your head and just listen.

He gets it. You’re better than him, you feel bad for these people. But in the end you chose to stay here, to be with him when you knew about what he did, you got yourself into this and you knew that from the beginning.

Knock it off or Bo is going to get beyond pissed off with you.

Vincent Sinclair

He just gives you a look before going after them, knowing how mad Bo would be at you both for letting a victim escaped...especially if he found out that you did it on purpose.

He can’t even manage to be mad at you. Of course you wanted to save that girl’s life, you’re a good person, that’s what a good person would do.

You’re just lucky that he was the twin to see it happen.

Later that night though, he will talk to you about it. Beginning to explain that you have to let them do what they do, but you interrupt him, telling him that you know and that you’re sorry. You just couldn’t help it when you saw her face.

He understands that even more. You felt guilty.

But he also reminds you that you’re family now and they do this for the family, it’s all they have.

So, he still isn’t mad. Just suggests hat you stay away next time, you fully agree with that. He also apologises for not warning you about the group of victims and not telling you to stay away from the workroom for a while.

Lester Sinclair 

He ain’t mad, he gets it. He has his own hang ups about the whole thing, it’s why he never really actually kills anyone, he just takes them into town.

He understands why you did what you did...but that doesn’t mean he can encourage it.

He’ll sit down with you, telling you all of that and you understand. You’ll apologise, he’ll apologise for you having to deal with all of this in the first place.

Let’s just not tell Bo about this...

Lester thinks it would just be for the best if you stayed home next time somebody drove into town. Both to avoid angering Bo but also to protect you. He didn’t want you to feel responsible for their deaths, it’s not your fault.

Bubba Sawyer

Wh-why would you do that?

He knows that this whole thing can be a lot, he doesn’t always like it either, but this is what they do. You know that so why would you do that this time?

There are very few things that could make him mad at you, and this isn’t one of those things. 

He’s actually more concerned about how Drayton would react. He would be so mad at you!

Okay, next time a victim comes along, you can stay away from it. He doesn’t like the idea of you being in a dangerous situation anyway.

He won’t tell Drayton but please don’t do this again, Y/n...

Asa Emory (The collector)

Asa has never lost his cool with you, until now.

He was always so calm but now he was angry. Why would you do something so stupid? You’re putting everything at risk, you put him at risk. 

He knows you have a whole lot more sympathy for these people than he does but you can’t do things like this, you know that.

But right now, he had to go out there and get the victim back. Then, he will deal with you.

As punishment, Asa is pretty much treats you like a child who did something wrong. If you can’t even leave a victim be, how can he trust you?

You’re going to have to earn back his trust, and he’s going to be very strict with you until then. Hopefully, you prove that this won’t happen again.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Luckily for you, Jesse likes the chase. 

He knows he will catch the victim again eventually, you’ve given them a small head start but you haven’t saved their life.

Deep down, both of you know it.

You stay put, he’s going to find the little piggy you let escape.

And when he gets back...you’re going to have a little chat. 

If you keep interfering like this, it’s going to become a problem, and he can’t allow that. He just can’t but you already know that.

He can’t let this become a regular thing.

He’s probably just going to keep you away from his ‘work’ so you can’t cause any more problems.

One time is forgivable, it was a blip and you’ll have to earn his trust back, but if you start becoming a problem, he’s going to have to figure something out.

Otis Driftwood

Otis will snap at you, something that he doesn’t normally like to do.

But what you did was a massive fucking ‘no’. You joined this family, you have to deal with the consequences of that. Just stand back and let them get on with it.

He’ll go and drag them back, don’t you worry.

He will be keeping a closer eye on you, seeming more withdraw from you, until you earn back his trust.

If he’s satisfied about it being a one time thing, a moment of weakness, he can move on.

But if it happens again?...he’s going to have to crack down on that a lot harder. 

You can’t become a problem. Don’t let yourself become a problem. You need to remember that you’re a part of this family now.

Baby Firefly

Baby just sees it as a big game.

You let them go...that just means that she has to chase them down and bring them back!

And she makes sure to tell you that she got them back with a proud smile. Was it supposed to make you feel bad? You truly weren’t sure.

She really seems unbothered. She got them back, she got to enjoy herself, they didn’t get to tell the police. 

No harm down and she had fun!

It’s the rest of the family that’s going to have their eye on you for a while, until you prove it was a one time thing.

[tintinwrites]

i have loved you too much | Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Fem!Reader | Part One

A/N: You guys liked this idea I think so here you are with part one!! Please remember that Reader ends up pregnant from this one night stand and that’s the focus of this series.

Rating: 18+

Warning: This fic is going to deal with pregnancy in the future, please be aware! Naughty words. P in V sex. One-sided Frankie x Reader. Reader yells Frankie’s name I’m warning you bc I was embarrassed just writing it lol. Pining. Meaningless sex wrap it before you tap it please even if you won’t get pregnant protection is IMPORTANT.

Word count: 3,413, apparently!!

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and it’s the day of his wedding to a woman who is not you. You and a lonely Santiago find solace in each other.

GIF credit: damerondjarin

Tags: Since this is a series, the taglist is OPEN for those who want to read more rather than me tagging everyone from my general taglist. I don’t want to tag people in a bunch of parts who might not be interested, so let me know if you are!

                                         ---------------------

Frankie always made your heart flutter.

When you were fifteen and it was your first day of high school in a new town, and your first impression of dropping a bunch of papers in the hallway was not so embarrassing when a young boy in a backwards cap rushed to help you pick them up.

When you were seventeen and your prom date walked out with the girl he really wanted to take who happened to be your best friend of two years’ date, and he awkwardly asked if you wanted to dance to stop you from crying.

When you were eighteen and you were clinging onto him as he was about to go off to join the military, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and promised to send you letters.

When you read every letter as you sat in your dorm, even as you entered your twenties and the letters became few and far between.

And then, when he came home when you were just shy of twenty-eight, you found out that Frankie could make your heart sink, too.

Like when you ran to hug him and he told you he wanted you to meet someone, and he introduced you to his fiancee.

Or when he announced the wedding date would be in a year and a half from that date.

There was also when you were twenty-nine and he asked you to be his ‘best man’, and asked you to help him pick a few things out.

And now here you were, a few days from thirty years old, and seeing Frankie all dressed up in a tux without a hat on his head made your heart flutter and sink at the same time.

How did he do that?

You were sitting on the arm of a chair that Benny was sitting in, your dress matching the ties and pocket squares that he, Frankie, and the other boys were wearing, as you watched a slightly nervous groom who wasn’t used to big celebrations look at himself in the mirror. You’d been introduced to the other men when they came into town to see Frankie and became fast friends with all of them.

“Why’d she have to choose bow ties? I can barely tie a normal tie,” he joked, trying for the third time to figure out how to tie the fabric.

Will seemed to be the only one who knew how to tie it and he gestured for Benny — who’d been fiddling with his for quite a bit now — to walk over so he could help him.

You stood after watching Frankie for a moment longer and stepped between him and the mirror, taking hold of the bowtie so you could do it up for him. “Can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

He chuckled, leaning over a bit as you tied the bow so he could glance at himself in the mirror again.

“I look like a dork, but you know...she’s worth it. Fuck, I love her.” He didn’t notice the way you looked down, fixing a piece of errant hair that fell from the style his wife-to-be wanted most.

“There you go, sweet Frankie.” It was a name you’d called him since you met him because you’d never met anyone as sweet and gentlemanly as him.

Still hadn’t.

And you’d never met anyone as handsome or as funny or…

“I’ve never worn one of these fuckin’ things,” Santiago grumbled, and you turned your attention to where he’d tied his bowtie into a knot.

“Where would you guys be without me and Will?” You bumped your hip into the man in question as you walked by him to go to Santi. “Come on, let me see it now.” You batted his hands away and grimaced at the tight knot, starting to pull at it delicately.

He watched you closely as you fixed the bowtie and, though your eyes were downcast to focus on the work at hand, he’d seen the tears in them. “You doing okay?”

You looked at him in bemusement for a moment and then you realized that he was rather blurry, and you quickly looked back down as his question made your tears threaten to spill.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just, uh...you know, weddings...so emotional…” You tried to laugh it off with a teary chuckle, hurrying to finish up with the tie so you could step away from him.

He stopped you before you could by pulling his pocket square out and holding it to you.

“Santi, that was perfectly folded!” You’d spent hours with Frankie’s almost wife, helping her with last minute decorations, and the pocket squares needed to be folded in the right design.

She was so nice and you couldn’t blame Frankie for falling for her.

“Sorry, fuck!” Santi hurriedly shoved it back into his breast pocket and did his best to make it look like it did before, but there was no time as the bride’s father knocked on the door to let you all know it was time to head down.

The wedding was being held entirely in a hotel so you left the room you’d booked for changing and headed down to where the ceremony was being held, hooking your arm through Santi’s despite being the best man as there were only two bridesmaids and Frankie requested that his two best friends walk in together.

A hand gently squeezed your side and you looked to see Frankie smiling at you nervously, before he walked down the aisle.

You didn’t think you would be crying again just from walking down the aisle, but all you could think as you looked at the man you loved was that his eyes were looking past you, waiting for the woman he loved.

That woman would never be you.

                                          -----------------------------

You were always able to tell when Frankie was embarrassed.

And, yes, he was a really sweet guy, but slow dancing in front of all the wedding guests was very clearly embarrassing him.

Though his eyes would flutter to his new wife’s face and he’d look all dreamy, a big, dopey smile forming on his lips at the mere sight of her.

She was beautiful and very kind, and she deserved someone as wonderful as Frankie.

You knew that.

You knew you were being ridiculous with your jealousy over this.

Yet there you sat, your chair turned away from the table so you could watch them, half-smiling and half-crying because they were beautiful and Frankie was officially never going to look at you like that.

A hand holding a glass of champagne blocked your vision and you sat up a little straighter, looking up to see Santi standing there with a gentle smile. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Oh, yeah, weddings always make me emotional…” It was the same excuse as before as you took the glass from him and forced yourself not to down the whole drink in one sip.

“Mm,” he hummed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press as he grabbed the vacant chair next to you and turned it around to sit.

The song ended and the couple kissed each other sweetly, and you were so occupied with staring at Frankie longingly that you didn’t notice Santi watching them with a bit of sadness in his eyes too.

Frankie smiled at you with more giddiness than you’d ever seen as he walked past, and you quickly reached up to swipe away the tear that fell down your cheek.

Not fast enough; Santi regarded you with realization and then sympathy.

He thought for a long moment, then drank the rest of his own glass of champagne and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I, uh...I don’t dance, but you’re really pretty tonight and someone should dance with you.”

“Santi…” The song that was playing was slow and you knew he wasn’t the type, but then he was extending his hand to you and you reluctantly took hold of it.

“No complaining if I step on your toes.” He yanked you towards the dance floor and you laughed as you stumbled into him, letting him guide your hand to his shoulder as his moved to your waist.

There was something about swaying with him that was only working up your emotions more and you were breathing deeply, doing your best not to cry, but a few tears started to fall and Santi quickly pressed your head into him to hide it.

Why did it have to hurt so much? Why couldn’t you just not love him?

You really hoped Santi thought you were just sobbing against him because weddings made you cry.

You forced yourself to calm down so he wouldn’t read much into it, just closing your eyes and letting him lead you in a way that was surprisingly decent considering he didn’t seem like the type to dance.

“You okay? You need to step out of the room for a minute?”

“I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Weddings make you emotional?”

“—yep. Yeah.”

You swayed with him silently for a couple moments, your emotional mind with its unrequited love taking the time to really think of how kind it was for him to dance with you, of what he said when he asked you…

You pulled back to look at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That I’m pretty tonight.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re pretty every night.”

You stared at him for a moment and then you leaned forward to press your lips to his. He stayed still in shock for maybe two seconds before he was eagerly kissing you back, his hands lowering from your waist to your hips.

You blinked at him slowly when you pulled apart, tilting your head slightly. “Would you like to go up to the hotel room with me?”

“I would love that.” He let you take his hand, noticing that you look around as if to make sure no one was watching before you pulled him out of the reception hall.

The walk to the elevator was quiet, but you were on Santi the moment the doors closed, seeking comfort from your broken heart in his lips.

He could make you forget about this.

Even if it was just for ten minutes or so, you wouldn’t think about Frankie for those ten minutes.

You weren’t thinking of Frankie now.

Or how sweet he looked in his tux.

Or how you would never be his, never know what it was to make love to him or come home to him or have a family with him.

Fuck, you were thinking about him, so you quickly reached between Santi’s legs and cupped him through his pants.

“Shit, baby! We’re almost to the right floor and I’m not gonna be scolded again for using the emergency stop for this.” He smirked at your raised eyebrow, but pushed you into the hallway as the doors opened.

The hotel was the first door to the right of the elevator and you had the keycard on you since you were the ‘best man’, sliding it through before pushing open the door as the man behind you hurried you in.

He barely kicked the door shut and then you were kissing again, hands roaming all over each other in search of buttons and zippers to undress each other as fast as possible.

Your dress loosened and was falling off your shoulders when Santi pulled the zipper down, and he sneaked his hands under the fabric both to push it down and to grope your breasts.

You stepped out of your dress, only in panties now since the style didn’t really allow for a bra, and you pulled away with a teasing smile as Santi reached for your breasts with a groan, making your way towards the bed.

The clothes Frankie had worn to the hotel before changing into his tux were on the bed and you paused when your eyes landed on them, thinking of how it wasn’t him you were going to bed with and now it never would be.

Santi opened his mouth to ask you why you stopped, only to see the clothes and know immediately that this had something to do with the way you were staring at Frankie and crying at the reception; he was no idiot, and the more pieces he put together, the more he realized that you thought of him as more than a friend.

He could tell you would probably cry again if you looked at the clothes for too long, so he reached over and shoved them right off the bed.

You blinked, looked over at him, and then let out a laugh before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his.

He wrapped one arm around you and let his fingers roam over your bare back as he guided you closer to the bed, watching you flop down when the mattress touched the back of your knees.

His bowtie was undone and his tux jacket was unbuttoned by you when you were entering the room, and he quickly took them both off and then started on unbuttoning his shirt. “Your tits are probably the nicest I’ve ever seen.”

“I can tell by just looking at your stupid, beautiful face that I’m going to enjoy the rest.” Your eyes followed his movements until he was letting his shirt fall off his shoulders, showing off a torso that was decently toned from his work.

“Wait until you meet Santiago Jr.” He was sexy enough that naming his penis didn’t make you want to run, laying there with lust in your eyes as you watched him open up his pants.

“Oh,” you gasped out when you saw him spring free, barely acknowledging his lack of underwear as you sat up to admire him.

You’d been with a few men, but you could admit that you’d never seen a dick quite as pleasing as Santi’s; dicks were not pretty and his was...well, it was nice, and you might’ve wanted it in your mouth if you weren’t just trying to forget somebody else.

“I showed you mine…” He cocked an eyebrow, stepping forward at the invitation of your opening legs and slowly running his hands up your thighs, teasing along the hem of your underwear before he started to tug it down.

He groaned at the sight of your pussy and immediately moved between your legs so he could kiss along your inner thighs, but you quickly grabbed onto his hair to pull his head up.

You just shook your head slightly because you wanted to be fucked even though the idea of Santi eating you out was tempting, and you gently guided him up until his hips were nestled between your legs.

Maybe you weren’t letting him use his mouth on you, but he still moved his hand so he could stroke over your clit, wanting to be certain you were wet enough to take him before he tried to put his cock inside you.

You were decently wet just from kissing and thinking about having sex with him, so he merely stroked you until you were squirming and moaning underneath him before he took hold of his cock.

He pressed his tip against your entrance and looked at you for your consent, slowly pushing forward when you nodded and letting his head drop with a moan at the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him. You took every fucking inch like you were made for him and he was able to enter you almost to the hilt, his hips jerking as he let out a low moan.

His cock filled you so well that you were moaning along with him, one of your hands moving to play with and tug at the hair at the nape of his neck which only turned him on more.

“Fuck,” he panted, laughing softly and leaning down to kiss you.

“I know.” You pressed a few kisses to his lips as you enjoyed being full and he enjoyed something so tight hugging around him, then you bucked your hips. “Move for me. Please, Santi.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward again, doing that a few times as you moaned your approval before he found a rhythm that allowed him to rock into you smoothly.

Your legs tightened around his hips as he fucked into you, and you moved your hands so your fingers ran through his curls, ruffling them up a bit when you tugged on them.

This only made him groan and move even faster into you, the springs in the bed started to creak a bit the harder he fucked you.

He was grunting and panting and you were practically mewling each time he’d fuck against your G spot, but one of your hands slid down between your legs to touch yourself.

“Hell no.” He growled, shoving your hand away to replace it with his own so you wouldn’t have to pleasure yourself, rubbing circles on your clit.

Now as Santi was practically pounding into you and offering your clit the stimulation that you needed, your moans were growing into loud cries of ecstasy, your hands moving to press your nails into his shoulders.

Santi only moved his hips harder and faster as he sought out his own orgasm, grunting and groaning with every thrust back into your wet, tight pussy.

You knew that you were going to come by the way your clit tingled and your cunt fluttered around his cock and you could tell that he knew too as he moaned, his fingers keeping their movements on your clit consistent so he could push you into your climax.

You clenched down tight around him before your walls started pulsating on his cock and you screamed out, “Frankie!”

His hips stuttered and he stared down at you for a brief moment, but he didn’t want to embarrass you by making it awkward, and he knew he was just so you could forget about Frankie anyway, and he was so close to coming that he didn’t really care.

He continued thrusting into you as he lost a bit of that rhythm, pushing himself as far inside you as he could go as he came with a loud groan.

The only sound was your panting as he collapsed on top of you and nuzzled against your neck.

You tapped on his arm and he rolled off you, watching as you slid out of bed, redressing like his cum wasn’t still dripping out of you.

“Thanks, Santi. That was...really great,” you said as you pulled your panties on, then you walked over to the door where you put your dress on and stepped into your shoes before you paused, looking over your shoulder. “I’m sorry about the—”

“It’s fine.” He quickly waved off your apology for saying Frankie’s name, but it was still a little awkward, so he moved out of bed to redress himself.

He looked up when he heard the door open and shut, not certain what emotion it was that made him almost sad at how quick and detached that was; maybe the same emotion that made him look at Frankie and his wife with jealousy even though it was thanks to his bouncing from woman to woman that kept him from finding that happiness.

Not that it mattered, really, because he knew this was just a quick fuck and that you had eyes for somebody else, and he couldn’t really say he’d ever thought of you beyond friendship and sex. It wasn’t the fact that it was you that was making him sad, just the fact that this was all he was ever going to be.

You walked away from the hotel room with tears falling down your cheeks because you would never be with Frankie, and you might’ve forgotten about him for a few minutes, but you still said his name as you were having sex with another man.

You enjoyed yourself and you knew being distracted by Santi was only going to make you forget about longing for Frankie for those few minutes, and now you were right back to wanting him as much as you did before. Santi was just a moment of solace. Nothing more than that.

[1rintooru]

a relationship gone sour

Warnings: physical abuse, toxic relationships, swearing, the whole ‘yandere’ trope, heavily implied death

Pairing: yandere! Tendou Satori x gender neutral reader

Themes: uhm? read the warning again pls

Word count: 1869 - one-shot

Summary: You and your friends devised a plan to escape your toxic relationship, however Tendou ends things before you even get the chance to.

…You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy, when skies are grey…

A familiar hum traveled with the cool breeze that tickled his cheeks. The smell of wet concrete lingered in the air from the heavy downpour earlier. The streetlights had automatically turned off some time ago and the moon hid behind dark, dried-up clouds. ‘Would you be happy to see him? Excited, even? Or would you look at him the same way you’d begun to for many weeks now?’ Tendou could only wonder. For a moment he was worried he’d arrived too early, but it didn’t matter. He promised you that he would visit – even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

Your legs felt heavy once you finally emerged from the bathroom, a yawn escaping your lips. You weren’t used to staying up so late; you had met up with a couple of friends for a much-needed study session and lost track of time. Once you all finally parted ways it was already past midnight and all that you could do was mentally apologize to your future self for being exhausted the following day.

Conversation of school gossip quickly turned into a targeted interrogation towards you. To be fair, your friends were deeply worried for you. They made no secret of their dissatisfaction in your relationship since you heard every complaint under the sun. Gentle concern eventually turned to stern berating out of desperation and much to their dismay, you easily brushed off their remarks and defended Tendou every. Single. Time.

Tendou always stood out to you as an oddball type; he was loud, playful and marched to the beat of his own drum. You fell in love with his quick wit and sardonic humor and grew innately protective over him when you learned about his difficult childhood.

But as months passed, the line between satire and sincerity became more and more blurred. It wasn’t until he would become increasingly obsessive and his lampooning more threatening that you understood the gravity of his words. You were constantly walking on eggshells around him as your formerly sweet relationship quickly turned acidic.

You weren’t wearing your rose-colored glasses anymore and the confession of your relationship woes were met with sighs of relief. Grammar structure and algebraic formulas soon became trivial as you and your friends started planning a way for you to escape your toxic relationship. The worry that weighed heavily on your mind finally lifted as you felt the warm compassion of your closest friends’ envelope you like a heated blanket.

How long has it been since you felt this way?

You smiled to yourself – still riding feathery-light high from earlier – and brushed your thoughts aside, deciding to deal with them again in the morning. You rounded the corner into the hallway, a slight spring in your step as you went, before stopping abruptly.

The light went out.

You made a mental note to replace the broken lightbulb as soon as possible. While you weren’t shrouded in complete darkness, the newly missing light source still created an illusive atmosphere that you weren’t fond of. Your shadow crept up and bounced off the walls and the end of the hallway was left in pitch-darkness. The only thing you could barely make out was the faint outline of your clothes that hung from the clothes stand, creating an eerily human-like shape. You considered to check the door to see if it was locked but decided against it; you were just being paranoid and in your sleepy state it was expected for your mind to play tricks on you.

What you didn’t expect was for the shape to take a step forward.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you could feel how each individual hair stood on end. The figure took another agonizingly slow step forward, revealing its silhouette to be that of a male with a tall, lanky build. You wanted nothing more than to run away, but the cold shiver that went down your spine had you completely frozen. Your legs had locked themselves in place and all you could do was watch in horror as they took a third step forward, the dim lighting cascading across his face and illuminating his features.

“Satori!”

“Hello there, Sunshine.” His tone was sardonic, fleering as he extended his arms towards you. “I’ve missed you… how about a hug?”

You wanted to reply but only managed to choke out a cough; the sharp, excruciating pain at the back of your head traveled down your spine and spread outwards, making your whole backside throb. You didn’t even have time to react when he lunged forward, toppling you off your feet and knocking the wind out of your lungs. The room felt as if it were spinning as you hopelessly watched Tendou and his double merge in and out of each other, both of them offering you an ear-splitting grin. A painful, heavy pressure provoked another coughing fit and your eyes darted to the source – the center of your chest caved in where Tendou deeply dug his knee, the other planted firmly on your left arm while one hand pinned your right down.

You tried desperately to thrash your legs in a frantic attempt to kick him off, but the way you were angled made it nearly impossible to reach him. He remained unyielding as he stayed perched onto you like a gargoyle, his crimson eyes boring into you acrimoniously. A pout formed on his lips as he watched you squirm beneath him, tilting his head so unnaturally that it practically rested on his shoulder.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life?” he cooed.

“Satori please, I can’t- I can’t breathe,” you gasped, still convulsing in pain.

“Hm? Oh, guess I don’t know my own strength,” he responded dispassionately, focusing his attention on the dirt under his nails. He knew exactly what he was doing, this was all just a child’s play for him. With Tendou it was always a game – and you were the prize. You shifted beneath him, finally able to somewhat breathe as the pressure elevated.  

“Satori, sweetheart – if this is about before, then you have nothing to be jealous about! I was just studying-”

“Huh?” he leaned back with crossed arms, not enough loosen his grip but enough so that he almost sat upright. “Jealous? This has nothing do with jealousy. I made you a promise, remember?”

A promise? Your mind frantically raced trying to remember when he had promised you something. What promise?

He smiled wryly and answered as though he had read your mind, “I promised you that I would keep you safe – that I would keep our relationship safe. I know everything about you and I’ll be damned if anything ever gets between us!”

You winced at his menacing tone; you always knew Tendou could switch from cheerful to incredibly threatening at the drop of a hat and you regretted not listening to your friends sooner. However now, dread enveloped you as you felt a sense of foreshadowing in his words.

“Satori… I am safe! I’m not going anywhere, see?”

His face softened and he abruptly leaned forward, his face just inches above your own. His breath tickled your nose and you had to collect all your willpower to not recoil as his long fingers caressed the side of your cheek ever so gently.

“That’s a lie.”

Your eyes widened in panic as you felt your whole body be overcome with despair.

“Satori, I –”

“I thought we had a pretty good thing going for us. You really accepted me fully and I am so, so thankful for that.” Despite his casual delivery, there was a genuine fondness written on his face, only revealed by the small crinkles that developed under his eyes. “So, when you started to look at me the way everyone else did – like some freak – I knew that wasn’t you. My beloved Y/N wouldn’t look at me like I’m some fucking monster.”

“I – I don’t think that – I would never think you’re a monster!”

You were interrupted by a deafeningly loud clap, the sound still echoing through the room as you felt blistering sting from where Tendou’s hand met your cheek. You briefly saw him multiply again, but even through blurred vision you could see his manic eyes twinkle like rubies.

“Goodness Y/N, you’re just full of lies today!”

His cheery tone made you cower. You knew you couldn’t overpower your 6’2” boyfriend – you already tried that – so in your desperation all you had left was to reason with him.

“Satori please! I’m your sunshine, remember…? You wouldn’t want to hurt your sunshine, right?” your pleas came out as pathetic whimpers, hot tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, already sticky and tear-stained from before.

“Well, yeah I guess.” His face turned thoughtful for a split-second while he considered your words. “But you’re also the one who took my sunshine away. Y/N wouldn’t look at me like I’m some demon.” He shrugged nonchalantly, his expression immediately returning to its morbid excitement.

“But if that’s what you think, then I’ll show you a real fucking abomination.”

He leaned forward and planted a kiss onto your right cheek. Then your left. You wanted to scream but your cries stopped in your throat, right where Tendou had wrapped his long, calloused fingers.

“I wanted to be mad at you, but I just can’t. It’s my fault all of this happened, I failed at protecting you.”

He fastened his grip, adding additional pressure through his digits and onto your larynx. While you felt your throat tighten, you could also feel the weight on your chest get heavier as Tendou slowly and tortuously added more of his bodyweight. His frenzied breath and your choked cries were only drowned out by the earsplitting cracks of your ribs. With both arms freed, you frantically tried to pry his fingers off, scratching his face and punching him as hard as you could. He didn’t even react – completely ignoring the scratches that now decorated his face. The hits you landed felt more like pesky flies to him.

“Forgive me, but I have to do this. It’ll only take a sec.”

Tendou’s grip tightened, silencing you completely. Exhaustion overwhelmed you as the adrenaline from before started to wear off. The weight of your arms felt like cinderblocks as they slowly drooped down, just faintly clasping at the fabric of his sleeves.

“I wish things could have been different.”

You were unsure of who spoke as Tendou’s multiples reappeared, almost as if to taunt you while a black haze emerged from the corners of your eyes. His eyes gleamed nefariously and his face split into a maniacal, shit-eating grin – a final farewell – as your vision fully eclipsed.

“I’m sorry.”

***

The pillowy clouds from earlier had finally dissipated once Tendou stepped back outside, veiling the sleepy neighborhood in a dim moonlight. The breeze from before had died down, leaving the air stagnant. How ordinary. Nothing stood out on this night except for the familiar tune that could be faintly heard in the distance.

…You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away…

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance is Blitzed (Part One)

When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initally thought. WARNINGS: you get poisoned and feel pretty shit, there are some potty words, but all in all pretty tame (FOR NOW).

This will probably be at least a two part-er, so let a sister know if you want to be tagged(?)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’d barely had a chance to get out of the building you’d been searching before you coughed so violently you fell to your knees, a horrible gasping sound tearing its way out of your throat before you even have a chance to scream for a medic.

You were dying. You had to be dying.

You’d found an ivory crushed tablet at the bottom of a footlocker you’d found inside of the bombed out general store the Nazi’s had been using as sleeping barracks, and instantly pinched some of it between your fingers for closer inspection, rubbing the chalky dust between your fingertips to see if it had the same texture as aspirin. 

It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to find medications and other rations in footlockers and other personal items during an inventory search, and most of the time you could easily figure out what it was and whether or not it was something Doc or someone else might need. 

But this tablet and it’s powder were unfamiliar (aspirin would’ve had a more obvious, sour odor that you would’ve clocked the minute you’d opened the footlocker’s lid), and when you brought it to your nose to sniff it more critically you instantly regretted it—the smell was chemical and harsh and it burned your nasal passage in a way you’d never experienced before. Your eyes had instantly watered and you’d exhaled sharply through your nostrils in a vain attempt to make the hurt go away.

The pain spread up your head and spiderwebbed into your brain. A bursting prickle of pain behind your eyes flared like a burning star, your face had begun feeling hot and your head was ringing. 

It’s too hot in here, I have to get out of here so I can breathe.

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes as you stumbled back out the way you had come, bumping heavily between the rough stone of the wall and your friends as you desperately tried to remember the way out. 

You felt sick to your stomach as your skin breaks out into a cool sweat. Panic was setting in, with your ability to breath compromised as well as your hearing beginning to go white.

“Y/n?” you think you hear Martin calling your name through the fog that is taking residence in your ear canals, and something is trying to pull your hands from your eyes. “Hey kiddo, what’s wrong? What’d you find—?”

“DON’T!” You blurt, opening your eyes and wishing you hadn't when the room begins to spin. You see the light of the doorway over Bull’s shoulder-Bull? When did he get here?- and you close your eyes and forget everything else except for forward and outside and I can't breathe….

“Hey!” Someone (Luz?) growls as you shove the shape of him out of the way, and you don’t think you’re making sense but you’re talking all the same.

Stop talking, you need air!

When your knees hit the hard ground you barely have a chance to catch yourself on your hands before you dry heave so hard you can feel the ache of it in your ribs. Your heart is beating too fast and hard in your chest and if you could feel your hands you’d use them to tear some of your layers away because you’re boiling alive and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Fuck, what happened—WHAT HAPPENED?!”

With a great deal of effort you crack your eyes open again and spot Ron Speirs’ signature glare coming your way, shucking off his vest and bag without breaking stride as he neared. You’re aware of Martin and Bull by your sides, but you can’t seem to figure out what they’re saying.

Why is no one helping me? Can’t they see I’m dying?

“Don’t touch the tab- cough cough….the footlocker….!” you try again, tasting blood in your mouth after you released another hacking cough, and you’re dimly aware of Bull pulling your hat off of your head and sigh at the blissful chill of fresh air on your clammy skin.

“We got it, no one’s gonna touch it, y/n—” he murmurs somewhere to your left, and you think you nod in understanding but you can’t be sure/

“What’s happening?” Ron snapped, his rough hands grabbing your face and tilting it up so he could look at it. “Where does it hurt, y/n—?”

“I can’t breathe! It's so hard to breathe— Fuck, i think my brain is melting…”

“Your brain?” his voice is lower in volume now, yet your head still throbs as if he were shouting. Your head is thudding in time with your heartbeat, and you don't realize you’ve been crying until his thumbs brush away from the tears clouding your vision.

A tremble runs through your body and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world tilts from side to side unreliably. 

His rough hands are abruptly snatched back, but you can’t open your eyes to keep track of where they have gone. 

Suddenly, a set of arms hook under your knees and shoulders and you're lifted from the ground, your head reeling.

“Don’t!” she gasps as the person carrying her begins to quickly walk back the way you’d seen that Speirs had come from. “I’ll get sick on you—!“

“Then get sick on me. It’s not the worst thing to happen to this coat.” Ron says matter-of-factly, making his grip on you painfully tight as he begins barking orders at people around you.

“Ron—” you try again, but your body spasms in his arms as the pain in your head crests to new heights. “Oh, God, I think I’m dying—”

“Shut up.” He hisses, and you think you hear a stain of panic in his command. “Just shut up and try to stay awake”

You sob as you lean your head against his shoulder, your bones too big for your body and your skin aching.

The next time you blink Roe is suddenly there, and your mouth is so dry your tongue creaks as it moves in your mouth. 

You’ve been set on a lumpy mattress somewhere and Ron, Nix, Bull, and Roe are standing around you and talking amongst each other too quickly for you to catch. 

By some miracle you are able to shove Roe away from your side just in time to avoid your vomit as you lean over the side of the bed and throw up painfully onto the ground where his feet had just been.

Your head is so foggy now, and everything hurts so badly you wish that you would just die and be done with the whole thing.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up about that?” you hear Ron chide, and hands are smoothing your hair off of your face and neck with a gentleness you didn’t expect from someone so rough. “You heard the Doc, didn’t you?”

You shake your head because you honestly had no idea what Eugene may have said (because up until recently you hadn’t even known he’d been there), letting another set of hands push your shoulders back until you were laying on the mattress again. 

You felt Roe rubbing at the skin inside of your elbow as he prepared some sort of injection, and you tried your best to hold still so he could find a vein.

“C’mon, y/n,” Nixon’s voice was far away, and in your delirium you could’ve sworn he sounded just like your dad. “I know it’s tough but try to stay still—”

Home, home, should’ve stayed home. Wouldn’t have died like this at home….

“It’s okay, darlin’” Roe mumbled, cursing in French as another spasm of trembling runs through you. “It’s gonna be over soon—”

Before you can even begin to panic about that promise, hands grab your face again and turn your head away from the doctor, and when you open your eyes all you can see is Ron.

“It’s not poison, you’re not dying, Y/n- look at me! Good, now just look at me and the Doc’ll give you something to make you feel better—”

Th poke of the needle makes you cry out like a baby, but rather than getting angry with you Ron just nods and makes a soft tsking sound under his breath.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

You watch those dark eyes of his harden as he shoots a look towards Roe. “How long till that shit kicks in—?”

“Seconds. It may not knock her out, but she should start feeling better right away—”

Speirs didn’t bother waiting for the man to finish before looking back down at you and softening his gaze once more.

He must be scared, he wouldn’t be acting like this in front of other people if he wasn’t scared i might not make it.

Whatever Roe had injected you with was cold in your veins, blissfully cold, and you could feel it turning your spasming limbs to lead with each slowing thud of your heart.

Taking what had to be the first deep breath you’d taken in hours, you watch as Ron nods and makes a point to sync your breathing, his breath cool of your damp face as he exhales with you.

“Good, good. That’s good, sweetheart….”

Your eyes lose their ability to focus, eyelids now too heavy to keep open.

But the idea of letting them close and going to sleep filled you with dread, and even though you couldn’t articulate your concern Ron seemed to read your mind and you felt his lips at the shel of your ear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise you that you’ll be okay, okay?”

You weren’t sure if he was saying it more to you or to himself or to the other men in the room, but you nodded all the same.

A cool cloth is wiped across your brow and you feel yourself sinking into whatever medicated slumber Roe has concocted for you.

“What the fuck is Pervitin and what the hell was it doing in an SS footlocker?”

Bull’s voice sounds like it’s underwater, and the harder you try to listen and see what the answer is, you quicker you slip into the cool and inviting darkness that curled around the edges of your mind.

I could rest, you think with resigned exhaustion as you let yourself fall from consciousness. It’s been so long since I’ve rested….

The weight of Ron’s hand on your cheek was the last thing holding you to the world, and when that slipped away you followed suit.

And nothing hurt anymore.

******IMPORTANT HISTORICAL CONTEXT: 

After discovering boxes of tablets labeled Pervitin on a downed German supply plane (if i remember this correctly), the Allies realized that the Axis countries had developed a performance enhancing drug that would: 1. Keep soldiers awake and active for days at a time without needing sleep/food, 2. Increased aggression and confidence in battle, and 3. Kept soldiers from slipping into ‘shell shock’.

BIG PROBLEM THOUGH, BC PERVITIN IS LITERALLY JUST METH. REALLY REALLY PURE AND CONCENTRATED METH (which is BAD!)!

So, the Allies said to themselves: “Self, self here. Listen- what if we came up with our own Pervitin for our soldiers so they too can be better/faster/stronger?”

So, the Allies came up with Benzedrine- WHICH IS ALSO METH AND STILL VV BAD FOR YOU!

In this story, reader stumbles across some accidentally and unknowingly ends up ingesting it and you get vv sick (which is also a thing that happens to ppl who accidentally inhale amphetamines). Bc I’m a nerd I looked it up that nowadays you’d probably be given some sort of Benzodiazepine/nourishing fluids cocktail to counteract the side effects, so we’re gonna pretend that’s what the cure is in the 40s  MKAY? MKAY. 

(also tagging @mrsalwayswrite​ bc rumor has it they also have a soft spot for our dashing murder prince with nice hair and death in his eyes)

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter 3: Bandanas

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

Your eyes peeled open. You groaned at the lack of sleep as you shifted to your bedside table to check your phone. Almost immediately after your rendezvous the night before, JJ dashed out the window, leaving you to drift to sleep. 

Sometimes, you’d get this weird feeling after he would leave so quickly- like you were being used. Well, you were, but you hated feeling like it. It was like a comedown after the euphoria of sex and it didn’t always feel the best, but you dealt with it. It had be going on for almost three months; you were way too in over your head at this point. 

You sighed, staring at the wall across your bed, thinking back to the remnants of that first night. How nasty and humid the air felt as you both rejoined the party after like nothing happened: 

“You can’t tell anyone about what just happened,” JJ stated as he fixed his shorts. 

His words did pierce you slightly, but you put on a front nevertheless. “Please, I’d rather be caught dead than with you.” 

He chuckled to himself as you both trudged down the beach. “That’s not what I heard back there princess.” 

It didn’t take long for your parents to blow up your phone that night, seeing it was 3 a.m. and their daughter was nowhere to be found. You came home with the smell of alcohol emitting through your clothes.You only hoped you had wiped off enough smeared mascara on the car ride home to deter them. Your mother read you the riot act as Ted stood in the corner of the kitchen. She screamed and hollered before her palm finally came in contact with your cheek. 

The following Monday, you ditched last period and drove over to The Cut, hoping to come across JJ. Driving along a narrow street, you see the shirtless golden boy mowing the lawn in a small yard. Pulling up, you rolled the windows down while a devilish grin snaked its way to his lips once he caught sight of you.

“Couldn’t stay away from me huh?”

You glared at him. “Just shut up and get in.” 

Shutting off the lawn mower, he hopped in your car, smelling of sweat and freshly cut grass . 

“Look,” you began, fiddling with the ends of your blouse, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” 

JJ’s finger tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. It was different seeing them in broad daylight. He didn’t seem like some sleazy Pogue you met at a party. He actually reminded you of a puppy... an annoying one with anger issues. 

“I understand if-” 

“No, I get you,” he answered, biting his lower lip. “After the way we fucked that night, I’m down to... go at it again.” 

“Okay but we need rules,” you insisted to which he rolled his eyes. “What’s with chicks and rules?” 

“This island is small and talk gets around. No one can know about us.” 

“Well duh.” He gave you an annoyed look. “You may think you’re all that and a bag of chips but my friends would totally clown me if they found out I was with a Kook, much less you.” 

“Oh please! What do you even know about me?” you retorted, not having his attitude outburst. 

“Y/n, you’re like bitchiest of them all,” he replied snarkily and your eyes met the ceiling of your car. “Not even the Kooks like you.” 

“Shut up, asshole.” You tried to hide the hurt from the fact that even he knew about your reputation. “Anyways, rule number two: we have to meet on Figure Eight.” 

“Hell no, why do I have to haul my ass to you?” 

You sighed heavily, gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. “My stepdad will literally kill me if he finds me here. Look, I know all the hiding places there and I’ll even get you a keycard to get in through the gate.” 

JJ smiled to himself. “Kill you huh? And yet, here you are, coming here, practically begging for me to fuck you. What will daddy think about that?” 

You contemplated punching him in that moment. “Don’t flatter yourself. You followed me that night remember?” 

JJ shrugged, leaning back in the seat. “I thought you were a touron. It was dark- sue me. Anyways, fine! We meet at the Eight. Anything else?” 

“This goes without saying, but absolutely no feelings,” you stated sternly as JJ snorted. 

“Oh princess, you do not have to worry about that whatsoever.” 

“Fine then, it’s a deal.” 

You both shook on it. JJ held onto your hand a moment longer to tug you onto the passenger seat, colliding his lips with yours. It didn’t take you both very long to undress and climb into the back seat afterwards.

A loud knock on your bedroom door startled you. “Y/n! Breakfast in ten minutes!” 

Peeling off your duvet, you leaped out of bed and started doing some small stretches until you noticed a jumbled up grey bandana on your window seat. 

“Fucking kid,” you muttered to yourself before reaching for it and throwing it in a bin on your shelf. 

JJ was klepto alright. He also had a terrible habit of leaving shit everywhere he went. If he tried to rob a bank, he’d be caught in seconds because he’d leave some trace of him. Over the course of your agreement you unintentionally started making a collection of the things he left. What started out as a bracelet on your nightstand grew to socks, lighters, hats, sunglasses, tank tops, and the occasional perfectly rolled joint (that he’d never see again). You always meant to give back all the shit he left, but he’d always leave so hurriedly that you’d forget and the collection would just grow. 

------------------------------

“Jade!” you blurted unexpectedly as you strolled into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” 

The small brunette sat next to your mother at the table, halfway done with her breakfast plate. She flashed you her killer sunny smile as your mom chimed in from her seat. “Jade here was in the neighborhood and wanted to take you on a boat ride this morning with the Cameron family.” 

“It’ll be fun y/n!” she insisted, kicking her tiny legs that didn’t reach the floor.

You were a little confused as to why you were invited to hang out with the Cameron kids seeing as they have always ignored you at school and every event. Jade caught on and threw you a look that said ‘just go with it’. 

“Um, yeah. I’m really excited to hang out with uh- Sierra and Ra- her brother,” you babbled, earning yourself an ‘Are you fucking kidding me’ look. You shrugged your shoulders, helping yourself to some eggs and pancakes. 

“Well sweetie, I think it’s great that you’re getting to know more people around here! Don’t forget you do need an escort for the Debutante Ball in a few weeks so maybe you can ask the Cameron boy to take you,” your mother suggested and Jade nearly spit out her fruit at the mention of it.  

You closed your eyes, sighing. “Yes, of course mother.” 

“So when were you going to tell me you’re a debutante!” Jade cackled as you both made way to the Camerons’ boat along the dock.  

“If you ever mention it again, I will personally slit your throat.” 

“You! You y/n of all people!” She had to suppress her laughter to a fit of giggles. “So wait, you’ve been going to Chapel Hill all this time to learn how to ballroom dance and do all that?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes! I told you my mother is actually insane. Anyways, what are we doing hanging out with the Camerons anyways? I thought you hated their sister.” 

“I do,” Jade responded as-a-matter-of-factly, “It’s the brother that’s delicious. Oh- and Sarah won’t be there and neither will their dad or any of their family really. It’s just going to be Rafe and a couple of his friends. He told me to bring some friends too so it won’t be awkward.” 

“And you chose me of all people? Jade, you have plenty of other very sociable friends you could have brought.” 

“Shut up y/n! You’re hot as shit okay! You just need to get out there more and meet people. Maybe then you won’t hate it here so much. Trust me, once you experience the OBX the right way, you’ll absolutely love it.” 

You crinkled your nose at her. “You’re just as insane as my mother.”  

“Come on! There are hot guys wanting to take us on their very nice boats. It’s free drinks and maybe some food,” she promised. 

You groaned. “Fine, but if any of them make an unsolicited move on me, I’m jumping overboard and swimming home. Also, now that I think about it, isn’t Rafe like way too old to be hanging around us?” 

Jade shrugged. “A little age never hurt nobody.” The boys whooped as Jade made her grand entrance onto their very large white boat as you trailed behind. Another thing you weren’t well versed in since moving here- boats. To you it was just big and small, windows and no windows, motor and no motor, but it was like a language here. When everyone would start rambling off about engines and fishing and whatnot you would just kindly smile and nod until they got the hint and walked away. 

“Who’s your friend McCoy?” a tall boy with slicked back hair asked Jade as he enclosed an arm around her waist. 

“Rafe, this is y/n! She moved here in October and lives on the east end of the Eight.” 

So this was the famous Rafe Cameron. You’d seen him a couple times golfing with Ted when you would hide away in the golf cart on your phone. Ted would mention a few times about how he was trouble and, telling by the way he still hung out with high schoolers at almost 20 years old, you believed it. 

You smiled uneasily and gave him a tiny wave as two other guys emerged from the front with a cooler. They both coordinated with the colorful short-shorts and printed button ups. They also wore those God-awful tinted sunglasses with the band connecting the backs. You recognized them from school- Topper and Kelce.

“Oh hey y/n,” they greeted tensely, each giving you an awkward smile and one-armed hug. You were in shock they knew your name even.

“McCoy, did you bring anyone else?” Kelce asked, totally not making it obvious of your unwanted presence. 

Not even the Kooks like you. 

You knew you’d have a hard time the moment you stepped foot onto Figure Eight. You had a very humble upbringing, which was unfathomable to the kids at school, so it was hard for you to make any real friends besides Jade. During the school year, you ate lunch by yourself and sprinted home as soon as the final bell rang. It got to a point where, when anyone would try to talk to you, you’d either roll your eyes or just simply ignore them. 

“Nope! Just me and my girl.” Jade flung an arm around your shoulder and handed you a beer. She raised her eyebrows at you to check if you were okay, and you smiled reassuringly, taking the bottle. 

“Let’s hope she knows how to hang,” Topper added as he started the engine on the boat. 

You sipped on your beer as you rode down the marsh. Kelce tried to make small talk with you as Topper drove and Jade macked on Rafe. It actually wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, Kelce did have the occasional funny story or witty thing to say even if it was about swinging a golf club or purchasing some extravagant item no one ever needed. 

“Woah Pogue alert,” you heard Topper warn as he steered next to a smaller boat hanging on the side

You glanced over and immediately met eyes with JJ who was casually laying back with his friends- two dudes and a girl. When he wasn’t acting like a complete jerk, he actually looked down to earth and kind of innocent. Cans of cheap beer littered their deck and a cute little ‘HMS Pogue’ lettering hung from the back. 

You turned back to Kelce, thinking it was just a quick pass by until you heard something thump on the side of the boat from their side. 

“Fucking rats!” Rafe barked at the group and hurled an open can of beer over towards them. 

“That’s for the van you sons of bitches!” you heard JJ holler as Topper slowed down the boat so they were eye-to-eye. 

“Hey that’s payback! I know it was you that fucked up my bike, filthy Pogue!” Topper snarled, pointing at JJ, tumbling more shit in their direction. 

The throwing escalated into an all-out war. You screamed and joined Jade who was clearly outraged as she ducked under the cooler for cover. 

“Rafe, just fucking drop it and let’s go! You’re wasting shit at this point,” she urged also throwing Topper a stern look to get moving.  

“This isn’t over!” Rafe roared at the group as Topper sped up the engine again. 

“That’s right, just ride along you fucking Kooks! And take your hoes with you!” JJ shouted. 

You threw a glare his way at the vulgar name he called you and stuck up middle fingers his way, sailing off. 

Fucking tool. 

------------------------------

chapter four

tags: @starkeybaby​ @obxlife​ @everydayimfangirling​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @tangledinsparkles​ @poguesrforlife​​ @thx-quxxn​ @obxmxybxnk​ @rororo06​ @poguesforlife​ @ilymarkchan​

[xpeachesncream]

off the grid | two

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 3191

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, definitely inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, jimin is cute as fuck for being such an angel

> series masterlist <

You tried sleeping in after Namjoon and Yoongi's call, but you couldn't fall back asleep no matter how exhausted your body still felt. Instead, you sat up in bed, scrolling through the pictures you took from your stroll in the nearby streets yesterday. You didn't get too far, yet you came back with so many small goodies already. You kept stopping by every shop on the street, and you ate such delicious food that you were contemplating on getting more today. But, you were also determined to travel a little bit further and start some real adventures for yourself.

You got yourself washed up and ready for the day. You did your usual of prepping a very light breakfast for yourself, just to give you enough fuel to kick off the morning. While doing so, surprisingly unsurprised, you were certain you heard Jimin's voice in the hallway. You stared at the door as you stood and ate some cereal on the kitchen island, waiting for his knock to come.

"Knock, knock." He says, following with two soft knocks. You walked over, bowl in hand, as you opened the door to see Jimin standing there with a huge smile on his face and another tupperware in hand. "I come bearing gifts?" He steps in as you shut the door behind him.

"Aw, thanks! More food?"

"Yup."

"Assuming your parents still don't know Yana isn't here?" You chuckled.

"Not at all." He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "But I'll deal with it later."

"Mm, you should probably deal with it before Christmas rolls around, sir."

"Yesma'am." He salutes you playfully. "Did you eat the stuff that I brought yesterday?"

"Sure did, for a night time snack." He chuckled as he placed the new tupperware in the fridge.

"Body still adjusting?"

"Pretty much." You say as you begin to wash your bowl.

"What's your plan today, Miss Y/N?" You softly chuckle as you wipe your hands down.

"Just roam around."

"Let me know if you need anything, or if you need anyone to show you around." He held out his hand, signaling for your phone so he can put his number in.

"I may just take you up on that offer."

"Good." He smiled. "Well, I'll catch you later? I'll leave you to your peace." You nod as you follow him to the door.

"Thanks again for the food."

"No problem. Eat up." He taps the door frame before shutting the door close. You look down at your phone and see Jimin's contact info still on the screen. Or should we say, "PRINCE CHARMING 🥵😍" since that's what he decided to name himself?? Let's not forget to peep the little tidbit he put in the notes: "My name is Jimin but you can call me tonight ;)" Who even uses the 'Notes' section under the contact's info?

His use of emojis and cheesy lines made you laugh to yourself, but you left it anyways. You were highly thinking about taking up his offer on having someone show you around, but you kept reminding yourself that the whole reason you came here was to do this solo. But, god, there's only so many things you can achieve as a solo newbie in a place like South Korea. Would it truly hurt to get some help or advice from someone?

On your way to the train station, you came across a lively farmer's market. The cold was biting at every inch of your body no matter how bundled you were, cheeks rosy and glowing. Being that the farmer's market was booming at this time, you figured checking out the station map could wait. Long aisles of stands with colorful fresh fruit and vegetables had you stopping almost every second to try samples. Fruit and veggies certainly tasted fresh, and it was a nice feeling on your tongue. None of that pesticide, wax-covered bullshit back home. There was music playing in the background, one being a street artist playing his violin in this cold. You threw some change into his case and continued down the aisle, where more vendors were selling their own art and home-made goods.

You spent quite some time here, as it seemed like the booths would never end. It eventually did, and it brought you right to the train station that would bring you to Myeongdong. Luckily, it was a simple, straightforward trip and you'd be on your way to more exploring. You planned to get some lunch first though because you can most definitely hear the street food calling your name.

As you continued down the street with your food in hand, you heard someone call you by name from behind.

"Y/N?" You turned your attention towards the street behind you to find Jimin pushing his way through the crowd with a huge smile on his face.

"Are you following me, Park Jimin?" You chuckled. He was wearing the same outfit you saw him in this morning, which was a thick sweater and leather jacket, dark grey jeans and boots. He had a hat on and some oversized glasses, which you thought fit his frame perfectly well.

"Definitely. Just had to make sure you knew what you were doing out here." He laughed. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, it's great. Do you come here often?"

"To be honest, not really. But the guys and I had nothing else to do today, plus-"He holds up a bag. "Ma put in a request for some stuff she was looking for since I was going to be here."

"That's sweet of you." You smiled toothlessly, watching as he beamed from ear to ear. Definitely a mama's boy, and a handsome one at that.

"Yeah, I do what I can." He shoved the bag down back to his side and tugged on his own shoulder bag. "Where are you headed after this?"

"Honestly? Wherever the wind brings me." You shrugged.

"You should tag along with me and my friends. We're uh, not doing anything fancy besides going to the comic cafe." He snorted nervously, hoping you wouldn't be one to label him as a dweeb this early on. "It's near the Dongdaemun Night Market. I think you'll enjoy grabbing some dinner there."

"Yeah, I'll come with. That sounds fun." You began to walk alongside of him as he walked back towards the opposite end of the street.

"Sorry, were you done looking here? I could accompany you while you keep looking." He paused to look down at you.

"No." You instantly shook your head. "Uh, I think I'm all good." You took one last look behind you, a little unsure since there was a store you still wanted to check out before leaving. You didn't wanna burden Jimin and his friends though, this wasn't their plan.

"You sure?" He smirked.

"Maybe not?"

"Let's go, I can tell you still wanna look around."

"Jimin, I can go alone-"

"It's not an issue, Y/N. Besides, Jungkook and Taehyung are still wandering around." He nodded towards the one shop you were eyeing. "Come on." You smiled toothlessly and followed him into the store.

"By the way, nice contact name." You showed him his contact info on your phone, making him laugh.

"Yeah, it's gold isn't it? Trying to stand out. I'm surprised you kept it."

"Your work of art. I don't meddle."

"Ah, touché. I like a girl who can appreciate good art." He winked, causing your cheeks to heat up as you blushed and looked down at the ground below you. He stepped into the clothing store and slowed his pace to let you lead the way. The one thing you were eyeing were the puffy jackets and coats because who can have too many outerwear? Jimin bit onto his bottom lip as he watched your eyes light up at the coats in front of you, touching everything you came across.

"These are so cute. I want it all." Jimin chuckled.

"Looks like you'll be needing another luggage to go home with you." You hung onto a beige colored puffy jacket, then reached out for a plaid coat.

"There's so many colors, I can't decide." He pointed to the plaid coat next to the one you had reached out for.

"That color would look nice on you." You smiled at him and nodded.

"Thanks. That makes it easier."

"You do have enough warm jackets for your stay right? There's a possibility it'll snow soon."

"Yeah, I think I'll be alright?" He nodded.

"I don't know Y/N, that doesn't sound convincing." He did a quick head tilt. "Make sure you get something warm then, please. The cold bites down here. I wouldn't want you to be miserable for the rest of your stay." He leaned against the rack. "Like that." He pointed at a thick parka. "Might be good to have that in your stack."

"Ou." Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you grabbed the olive parka and swung it over your arm.

"Well, that was easy." He laughed.

"I trust your word." You began to quickly scan the rest of the floor, making sure you wouldn't miss anything. But also, you didn't wanna take too much time off of Jimin's hands.

"Ayo!" You hear someone call from behind you. You continue to walk the floor, hearing Jimin's laugh from behind, followed by a couple of unfamiliar voices. "Stop being a creep."

"I'm not being a creep, you idiot." Jimin laughed and shrugged off his friend. "I'm helping Y/N out."

"She's here?" You turn to look at the three boys standing behind you.

"Y/N, this is Jungkook and Taehyung." You smiled softly and shook their hands. "I really apologize about them in advance."

"Hey, nice to finally meet you!" Jungkook smiled as he pushed Jimin aside. He was also very attractive, standing just an eensy weensy bit taller than Jimin. He had tattoos on his hand and his wavy, black hair was parted, falling down on either sides of his face and right at the eyes. He had big, doe eyes and a good build. Even though he was wearing baggy layers, you could tell his ass lived at the gym with the way his shoulders were built and how his collarbone was sharply poking out from his shirt.

"Sounds like you've heard of me." You chuckled.

"Jimin won't stop bringing up your name."

"Don't listen to him. He's making that up." Jimin's cheeks turned slightly rosy.

"That's not nice to lie, Jimin-ssi." Jungkook pinched his side, making him laugh and playfully hit him back. You scrunched your nose at how cute the interaction was, not feeling out of place at all between the two.

"Hey Y/N, Taehyung." Taehyung shows off a boxy smile as he gently shakes your hand. He looked like an artist, pulling a Jack from Titanic who was ready to draw one of his french girls kind of vibe - clad in brown pants, a black turtleneck, a long coat and low cut sneakers.

"She's gonna come along with us."

"Cool! Preparing yourself for the weather?" Jungkook asked as he quickly checked out the men's shirts across from you, while Jimin and Taehyung continued to talk and laugh on the side.

"I was warned by Jimin." You chuckled.

"He's right, it can be freezing here. Do you need any help carrying your stuff?"

"I'm good! Thanks. I think I'm about done anyways." Your mouth curved into a small smile before you walked off to the registers, grabbing a scarf on the way over just because. You definitely did not anticipate to spend like this already, but hey, self-care am I right?

"Let me hold that for you." Jimin takes the paper bag from you.

"You don't-"

"Is it like this in California or something?" He laughed.

"What?"

"Feeling shy when someone offers to hold your bags?"

"It's just not a consistent thing, I guess? At least not that I've experienced much. It could be different for others." You spare him the details. Now that you think of it, Romeo has never offered to carry your bags like that. Ever. He obviously lacked a lot of common courtesy.

"Interesting." Is all he says as he shrugs and continues on. You clutched onto your bag strap as you followed the three, suddenly questioning how you got from going around solo to now tagging along with your home swapee's brother and his friends. Jimin slightly slowed his pace to catch up to you, pulling you out of your thoughts when he shared a small laugh. "You okay? Suddenly having regrets?"

"No, I'm good." You chuckled as you tugged into the strap harder.

"Do you ready any comics?"

"I used to when I was younger. Now I just don't have time to even find a good read."

"That busy, huh?"

"I guess so. Or I guess, sorry, I just don't find the time so it's partially my fault."

"No need to apologize. You should make more time for yourself though."

"Yeah, I know." You looked up at him and smiled toothlessly. He returns the favor before opening the back passenger car door for you, allowing you to situate yourself first. As you fasten your seatbelt, Jungkook adjusts his rearview mirror before starting the car and switching its gears.

"So, what's California like?" Taehyung asked as he whipped his head around from the passenger's seat.

"You never said exactly where you were from." Jimin chimed in as he cocks his head to the side to look at you.

"Los Angeles." The boys collectived oo'd and aw'd together.

"I've been there before!" Jungkook rose one hand off of the wheel. "I did a summer dance camp there and spent time with my family going around. Like Universal Studios, that was fun." He excitedly bounced in the driver's seat.

"Did you like it?" He nodded happily.

"Very much so. I'd love to go back. You should take me with you when you go back." Jimin threw a piece of crumpled paper at the back of his head.

"I'll keep that in mind." You laughed.

"The views are amazing and-" Jungkook continued to reminisce on his memories, but was abruptly cut off by Taehyung.

"I wanna hear what it's like from Y/N, not you." Jungkook popped Taehyung on the side of neck.

"It's busy." You chuckled. "It's busy and usually always hot. Lots of people, lots of cars, lots of things to do. People are always on the move."

"Does it feel any different being here?"

"Yeah, it does. I can't really explain it." Although Seoul was just as lively and the hustle and bustle was apparent, Los Angeles just felt like.. life was moving way too fast. Like no one really had time to appreciate life as much as they do here. There's always things that need to get done, and you're more worried about other people than yourself. No one took the time to just slow down.

"I imagine so. I've seen a lot of things about LA. Lots of Hollywood stars and famous people." Taehyung continued to look at you, resting his head against the head rest.

"Yeah, that's definitely the it thing there."

"Maybe we can all go back with Y/N."

"I don't have a big place but I'm sure we can make it work." The rest of the ride included the boys loudly singing along to the songs that came up. If you weren't mistaken, you could have sworn you heard Jimin's angelic singing voice pop out every now and then. He tried to keep it lowkey. Keyword: tried.

At the comic cafe, Taehyung and Jungkook went their separate ways to find what they were looking for while you stayed near the entrance, looking at the cute stationary items. Jimin had left you to browse but came back to your side as soon as he found what he needed, worried you'd feel lost and out of place. You reassured him and told him he didn't need to rush, but as you were picking up quite quickly, it was just in Jimin's nature to be that caring.

Time had gone by so fast, you didn't even realize how hungry you were. Dongdaemun Night Market was crowded as hell; so crowded that you had to try your best to squeeze through without being rude.

"Y/N, hold onto me." Jimin looked back, holding out his arm for you to hook onto. Jungkook led the way, with Taehyung holding onto his shoulders as they navigated through the crowd. Jungkook looked back at you both, pointing towards one of the food vendors. "Are you okay with eating some tonkatsu?"

"I'm down for whatever." You said, feeling a little flustered from the crowd. Jimin signaled a thumbs up to Jungkook before turning towards the seating area. He was able to snag a table so that you both could sit and wait, instead of being in the crowd.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention that it gets really busy here."

"It's alright, thanks for guiding me through the crowd."

"You feeling tired or anything?"

"A bit." You yawned into your elbow.

"We'll get you home after so you can rest up." Sooner or later, Jungkook and Taehyung come back with two trays, both loaded with tonkatsu rice bowls and sauce.

"Here you go." Jungkook smiled as he placed your bowl down in front of you.

"Oh, thank you! How much do I owe you?"

"Don't sweat it. My treat." He shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Y/N. Please eat." He chuckled. The rest of dinner was pretty quiet, as everyone was hungrier than expected. They would break the silence every now and then, talking about the rest of their friends and what they had been up to.

"What are your friends like, Y/N?"

"Well, to be honest, I don't have too many." You chuckled. "Not many I can actually call friends, at least."

"That's valid. That's like us, too." Jungkook responded.

"I met both of my bestfriends in high school. I'd meet people through them, but that's about it. They're really cool though, I think you all would get along with them quite well."

"What are their names?"

"Yoongi and Namjoon. They're all I really know. We've done almost everything together and we've always stuck by each other. They've always had my back and protected me."

"That's good. It's nice to have people like that in your life." Jimin says.

"What about you guys?" Taehyung adjusts the heat in the car before whipping his head around to face you.

"You should hang out with us more so you can meet Hoseok and Seokjin-hyung." Taehyung smiled. "They're super social and they always have good energy. They're fun to be around."

"Sure." You chuckled. By the time you were getting really comfortable with the warmth in the car, you had arrived back home. Jungkook and Taehyung greeted you goodnight before Jimin had shut the door and walked you upstairs.

"I know we didn't do much, but I still hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, thank you. Seriously."

"Did you wanna, maybe, hang out again?" He shyly asked as he scratched the nape of his neck. He was cute nervous, and there was no way you could say no to him. Besides, you were sure Jimin could help you explore more. "I just have to help my mom and dad out at their cafe tomorrow morning, but I should be good by lunch time."

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"I promise I won't disappoint." He laughed. "Goodnight, Y/N. See you tomorrow?" You nodded as you walked in. He gave off one last big smile before descending down the steps.

And you weren't gonna lie to yourself. He was so damn attractive. Everything about him so far was just different. You couldn't help but feel a little bit excited to hang out and spend more time with him.

[so-writing]

Dream Boy - Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank (Outer Banks)

Summary: You are a pogue dating Rafe Cameron and, as expected, chaos ensues.

The last part of a small series, read Things You Never Show (1) and Time (2).

-

“Fine, I guess I’ll just go then.”

“Thanks, I’d like that.” 

“You’re welcome,” JJ’s tone was clipped as he stormed out of the room, the sound of your apartment door slamming moments later.

His declaration of love wasn’t expected, but you had to admit it felt good to be wanted by someone.

“I need to pass the fuck out,” you said to yourself as you unwrapped the blanket from your body and tossed it at the bed, “things might be clearer after a night of sleep.”

*

“You’re entirely too good for that rich bastard and he knows it.”

JJ’s words fell on deaf ears and your cheeks reddened slightly before smiling back at him. 

Rafe took your response positively, standing up and making his way over to you.

“Hey,” he almost cooed in your ear, “are you having a good night?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” 

A million butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you allowed him to lead you away from the pogues and over to his fire. Rafe spoke eloquently, and laughed heartily at the jokes his friends cracked, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. 

“Can I drive you home?”

“Sure,” you wrapped your arms around yourself in attempt to keep the goosebumps at bay. 

It had gotten pretty late and Rafe and his friends were the only ones left on the beach that night.

“You cold?”

Before you could respond, he pulled off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders, rubbing your arms over the fabric, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

*

The aggravating shriek of your alarm seemed louder than usual. You stretched your hand out to silence it but only managed to knock a picture frame and your water bottle off the bedside table. 

“Fucking fine,” you huffed and threw the blankets toward the bottom of the bed, “i’m up.” 

Your phone was dark, sitting innocently on the charger where you’d left it, but you knew that when you illuminated the screen, there would be hell to pay.

Rafe (7:41) good morning baby, I miss you

Rafe (8:03) We fought but you’re still my girlfriend

Rafe (8:34) You never sleep this late. Please just fucking talk to me. I need you. 

Rafe (9:02) Baby please, please talk to me

Rafe (9:41) Come to me when you’re ready, I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me to. I love you. 

Except, there wasn’t. 

You expected Rafe to fly off the fucking handle after being ignored for so long. Instead of getting angry, it seemed like he just got sad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t the type to wait for anyone, so it was astounding that he was willing to do it for you. 

Blinking a few times and taking a deep breath, you typed out a response to Rafe.

I’m sorry I’ve been unreachable. I’m dealing with some shit and I think we need to talk.

The phrase, ‘we need to talk’, was never good and you were sure Rafe knew that. You, once again, expected the worst but he responded instantly.

Rafe (11:41) Name the place and time, I’ll meet you there.

*

The speed limit on the roads of the Cut were set at 35 but you clocked 50 as you sped to the Chateau. You would meet with Rafe later but you needed to talk to JJ first. 

The pogues were seated around a fire with sodas in hand, it being too early to get out the harder stuff. John B and Sarah were cuddled up while Pope and Kie sat next to each other, exchanging glances. The blonde you were looking for was noticeably absent. 

“Where is JJ?” 

“Dude! Where have you been?” Pope jumped up from his chair, followed by the rest of the pogues, and they surrounded you, enveloping you in a hug. 

“I needed some time. JJ?” 

Sarah nodded her head in the direction of the water and you knew right away that he was on the dock attached to the land the Chateau sat on.

“JJ, are you here?” 

You knew he was, you could see him sitting at the edge of the dock, his blonde hair tame beneath the red hat he wore so often.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You do? You were really against talking to me last night so I’m kind of thrown off.” 

“Come on,” you dropped down next to him, “don’t be petty, J.”

Silence rose between the two of you, JJ dipping his bare toes in the water as you held back to keep your shoes from getting wet. 

“I love you too.”

“No you don’t,” he didn’t make eye contact, “you love Rafe.”

“I lied.” 

“I know that. It doesn’t matter, you don’t love me.”

You said nothing and that was confirmation enough for JJ. 

“I’m your best friend,” he wrapped an arm around you, “and that is all. I can live with that, I’m used to pining after all.

“You’re much more mature than Rafe would ever be in this situation.”

“Obviously. Rafe is a child but let’s not talk about him anymore.”

JJ pressed a kiss to your forehead and you leaned into him, giving a kiss to his cheek. 

“Wish me luck with this breakup, J.” 

“You don’t need luck. That asshole loves you, for good reason, and he’s going to be more hurt than angry. You need to be strong though. Read him the fucking riot act.” 

“Absolutely I will.”

*

“Rafe! Rafe! Where are you?”

You wandered around the beach looking for your boyfriend. He had disappeared about five minutes after a pretty touron introduced herself to him. 

“I’m here baby,” he slurred, not bothering to hide the purple marks on his neck.

“Can we leave, Rafe? I’m tired, both for myself and of the randoms constantly hitting on you.”

“Nah, babe. Let’s hang for a bit. Topper has a good series of pong happening soon and I can’t leave my boy hanging!”

“Fine.”

Your boyfriend all but sprinted away from you as he waved to his friends. A mixture of irritated and sad, you wandered down to the dock to get away from everyone and everything. It wasn’t long until you heard the dock creaking beneath someone’s footsteps coming toward you. 

“You know he treats you like shit, right?” 

*

Rafe was sitting on the steps of the front porch when you arrived at his place. He didn’t wait for you to put your car in park before he was running your way. 

“I missed you so much!” 

He wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you up, spinning a few times. Rafe’s lips hit yours and you instantly lost control of yourself as you happily kissed him back.

“Baby girl I have missed you so much, and I know I fucked up. I’m so glad you’re here and that you’re forgiving me, I needed that.”

You’re forgiving me, I needed that.

A hollow laugh passed your lips as you pushed him away. 

“You needed me to forgive you? You needed me to do that? I was the one in the wrong? Really, Rafe?”

“No, no,” he stuttered, “I just thought you were over it because you were so cool about it. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know?”

The calm front you had planned to present was slowly dissipating and there was nothing you could do to stop it, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“You didn’t know that I would be hurt if you cheated on me? You didn’t know that I wouldn’t be hurt if you ignored me? After all that you expect me to forgive you? Are you a fucking moron, Rafe? Are you that fucking careless that you didn’t see how much I love you and what I did for you? You can’t be so fucking dense that you didn’t acknowledge my feelings at all. Do better, asshole.”

Rafe said nothing, only looking down at the ground and uneasily shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, this means we’re done.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m a fucking piece of shit and I know that. I also know that there is no one better than you. There is no doing better than you. Please,” he begged, “please, I need you.”

His voice was soft and cracked a little at his second please. He didn’t come any closer, but he was looking at you now, his blue eyes pleading for what you both knew you could no longer give him. 

“I’m sorry,” you meant it, “The person I’m looking at now is not the person I fell in love with and I don’t think I’m enough to bring him back.” 

“No,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, “don’t say that. You have always been enough, I’ve just been too stupid to realize it.”

The both of you fought the urge to cry, you wrapping your arms around yourself and shrugging your shoulders while Rafe pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, red eyes trying to blink away the tears that he was sure would come once you had left. 

“I should go.” 

“Yeah.. yeah.” 

Turning away from him, you wiped a stray tear that managed to escape and headed back down the driveway.

“Hey,” he hadn’t moved from where he was standing, “I know this is out of line, but, please don’t start dating him, at least not publicly.”

“That was never going to happen.” 

“Good,” a small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you turn around and get into your car, leaving his home for what he knew would be the last time. 

Unless he could get his shit together and do better.

-

tags: @lcil123 @bibliophilewednesday

[hopelikethemoon]

First Words (Javier x Readr) {MTMF}

Tile: First Words Rating: PG Length: 2100 Warnings: Fluff Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in 1993 after A Dance Owed.  Summary: Reader and Javier spend their last day in Laredo and it’s one of firsts.

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​​​​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​​​​ @beccaplaying​​​​​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​​​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​​​​​ @ham4arrow​​​​​​​ @plexflexico​​���​​​​ @readsalot73​​​​​​​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​​​​​​​ @randomness501​​​​​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​​​​​  @roxypeanut​​​​​​​ @snivellusim​​​​​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​​​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​​​​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @ah-callie​​​​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​​​ @u-wakatoshii​​ @space-floozy​​​​​​​ @cable-kenobi​​​​​​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​​​​ @himbopoes​​​​​​​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​​​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​​​​​  @cinewhore​​​​​​​ @random066​​​​​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​​​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​​​​​ @cyarikaaa​​​​​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​​​​​ @yabby-girl​​​​​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​​​​ @punkass-potato​​ @coredrive​​​​​​​ @pascalesque​​​​​​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​​​​​​ @queenquazar​​​​​​​ @sabinemorans​​​​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​​​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​​​​​ @jaime1110​​​​​​​ @katlikeme​​

“She’s gonna say abuelo before she gets either of our names right.” Javier said lightly as he walked in from the back patio, sliding the screen door shut behind him. “Wrapped around his finger.”

“Josie’s fond of her Peña men.” You retorted, glancing up at him for a second before turning your attention back to the tomatillos you had boiling on the stove. “I can’t say I blame her, however—“ 

Javier arched a brow at you as he walked further into the kitchen, “However?”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m being a little set up here.” You told him, reaching for the spoon and giving the pot a stir. 

“I told you I’d help.” He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth as he gave you a look. “But I know you know how to make it.” 

“I do know how to make verde. It’s simple.” You retorted, setting the spoon back onto the stone holder on the counter. “But I’ve made this for the two of us, not your extended family.”

You knew Chucho and Javier were just trying to make you feel like part of the family — because you were, but at the same time they’d inadvertently set you up for failure. 

“Hey,” Javier said lowly, hooking his finger into the belt loop of your jeans as he drew you away from the boiling pot. “They’ll love it.” He assured you, smoothing his hand down your hip. “You made a good impression at the wedding.”

“I figured the only impression I made was — that poor girl Javier accidentally got knocked up.” You taunted, cocking your head to the side as you looked up at him. “I’ve never had to do the extended family thing.”

“Me neither.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

You gave him a skeptical look, “You almost married a woman, Javier. You never met Lorraine’s grandparents? Her aunt? A weird uncle?”

He scratched at the back of his neck and glanced downwards, “Touché.” 

“That’s what I figured.” You grabbed the dish towel off the counter and swatted him in the thigh with it. “If you’re going to stay in here, get the blender out.”

You’d had a handful of serious relationships in your life, and every time they got remotely close to really serious you’d quickly found a reason to skirt out of it unscathed. 

Maybe you didn’t want to admit it aloud, but that was exactly what had happened with Lance too. Except it was paired with the sobering realization that you wanted Javier — who had seemed unattainable. 

Who never once gave you the impression that underneath his bachelor veneer, that he could be something like a family man. When you first met him you never would’ve imagined yourself standing in Texas in his father’s kitchen, making salsa verde because his tia was coming over to visit before you went home to Miami. 

“Baby, did you remember cilantro?” Javier questioned as he hauled out the blender and plugged it in on the counter by the microwave. 

“There are so many knives in this kitchen.” You shot him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t the neighbors have pigs?”

“Ouch.” He feigned injuring, clutching at his chest. “I might have to take my offer to take ownership of the verde off the table.”

“Ha. Ha.” You laughed humorlessly, shutting off the stovetop. 

Javier leaned against the counter opposite of you, arms folded across his chest as he watched you work. You could feel his eyes on you as you blended down the sauce in small increments, before pouring them into a bowl to cool. 

“You know, they all adored you.” He told you, once you shut off the blender. “Pretty sure they couldn’t figure out what you were doing with me, but that didn’t change that they adored you.” 

You smiled at him as you cleaned up the mess you had made, tucking the dirty dishes into the sink, “They’ve all made me feel so welcome. Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.” 

You recognized that some of the kindness was probably pity. You weren’t stupid — you were fully aware of the optics of the situation. 

Javier had a history of burnt bridges; a history that his entire family and the whole goddamn town knew about. You and Josie probably looked pretty flammable to them. If only they knew you’d been made flame resistant from all the bridges you’d set alight while standing on them. 

They hadn’t seen him in Colombia after Josie was born. They hadn’t been there through the years that mattered. 

Chucho was probably the only one who actually believed that you’d still be around next Christmas.

“Just one more night, baby.” Javier reminded you as he crowded in close to you at the sink. “Then we’ll be in Miami.”

You sank back against him and sighed heavily, “I’m looking forward to it being just the three of us again.” You curled your fingers around his arm as he curled them around your waist. “I haven’t spoken to my own brother in years. You can imagine how navigating your extended family feels.”

“You do it so well,” He pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck. “Couldn’t even tell you were nervous.”

You elbowed him in the gut, making him swear as you twisted around in his hold. “Fuck off.” You taunted, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips before slipping away from him. “I’m gonna go see what Josie and Chucho are up to.” You gestured to the cooling dish. “Finish our verde.” 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and nodded, “I’ll be out there in a bit.” He told you as you slid the back door open and stepped outside onto the patio. 

Laredo was a nice change of pace from Colombia. Wide open spaces and a little peace and quiet. You almost regretted that the three of you would be moving back into an apartment in a few days. 

You tried to picture what a younger Javier looked like working on the ranch alongside his father. You’d seen the pictures in frames on the walls, the old high school graduation picture stuck on the side of the fridge alongside the pictures of his cousins and their kids. 

It was hard to picture him without the mustache, the worry lines, and the weight of life on his shoulders. 

You shielded your eyes from the sun, looking across the yard towards one of the horse paddocks where Chucho had Josie. 

You couldn’t picture Javier as a younger man, but you could picture Josie growing up here. Christmases, birthdays, family reunions. Snapshots of life that you couldn’t relate to. 

All you wanted was for Josie to have a normal childhood. A happy childhood. Two parents who loved each other, a stable home life, extended family members who cared. You wanted her to have everything you didn’t have growing up. 

You never wanted her to worry. 

“How are you doing, chica?” Chucho called out as he started back across the yard towards the patio. “You get that verde finished?”

“Javier’s finishing it up.” You answered, hugging your sweater around your middle as you moved to sit down in one of the chairs around the stone fire pit. “How’s Miss Josie?”

“Having the time of her little life.” Chucho bounced her in his arms and she giggled and squealed. “Give it two years and I’ll have her out there on one of my best mares.” 

You laughed, holding your arms out to take her as she tried to squirm out of Chucho’s hold to get to you. You could tell she was tired — but she was trying to soldier through it. 

“She’ll never want to leave then!” You kissed the top of her head as she flopped against your chest. “You’re going to need a nap before dinner.” You brushed your fingers through her curly hair as she sighed dramatically. 

“Javier was a natural in the saddle,” Chucho recalled as he sank down into a chair across from you. He gestured out towards pasture. “Not even two and I had him in the saddle with me, going out to check on the fence line after a storm.”

“You could probably convince me to let her ride when she’s three.” You offered with a short laugh, rocking her in your arms. 

“Deal.” He chuckled, adjusting his hat on his head as he sank back in the chair. “You looking forward to the big move?”

You shrugged, “I’m looking forward to being settled. It’ll be good to see our friends again. To get back into a rhythm.” 

“Never thought I’d see Javier settled.” Chucho told you, shaking his head slowly. “But it’s a good look on him.” 

“He’s a really good father.” You smiled warmly, looking towards the back door, you could just barely see Javier through the glass as he moved across the kitchen. “I know the situation isn’t ideal—“

“No.” Chucho cut you off. “Things happen for a reason. They always do. There’s no such thing as ideal or not. The two of you are good together.”

“Yeah, we are.” You agreed, kissing the top of Josie’s head again. “It’s all just very new for me.” You admitted. “The wedding was a lot.”

“Would’ve gone better if Javier had given his old man a head’s up.”

You felt your cheeks warm, “I know.” 

“Everyone was real impressed with you.” Chucho told you, “Javier was worried.”

You frowned, “He was worried?”

“That they wouldn’t welcome you with open arms.” 

“Oh.” You had assumed he meant that Javier has been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. But he’d been worried for you. “I really appreciated being included. I mean, I did show up unannounced.”

He waved a hand, “You know what you need?”

“A stiff drink?” You laughed. 

“A joint.”

“Excuse me?”

Chucho gave you a look, “You didn’t strike me as a tight ass like Javier.”

“I’m not.” Your brows furrowed together. “Just so we’re clear — you mean a joint joint, right?”

“Is there any other kind?” He questioned as he stood up slowly. “Old age takes its toll on you and I’ve found a bit of marijuana helps take the edge off.”

“I would agree but,” You gestured to Josie. “I’m still breastfeeding her. As tempting as the offer is.” You glanced back towards the house, “Does Javi know?”

Chucho shook his head, “Let’s keep this between the two of us.”

You grinned, “Now I really do feel like part of the family.” 

The back door slid open and Javier stepped out onto the patio. “The verde is finished and the blender’s washed and put back up.”

“Look at that,” Chucho clicked his tongue against his teeth. “He cleans too.”

“Funny, pops.” Javier retorted as he strolled over to where you were sitting. “Real funny.”

Josie perked up the second she heard Javier’s voice, scrambling to get out of your arms. “Da-da!”

Javier stopped dead in his tracks, looking between you and Josie. “Did she just—?”

“Can you say it again?” You questioned, smoothing out her curls as you turned her in your arms so that she was reclining back against your chest and facing Javier. “Can you say daddy?”

Javier knelt down in front of you, grinning from ear-to-ear at Josie. “Come on, princesa. You know you want to say it.”

She clapped her hands together, rocking back against your chest. “D-d-d!” 

“Say daddy.” You kissed the top of her head. 

“Are you going to say daddy, JoJo?” Javier questioned, tapping his finger against her nose as he leaned in to kiss her cheeks. “Say daddy.” 

Josie let out a shrill squeal, “Dada!” 

You grinned down at him, “Javi!”

“Ha ha ha!” Josie cooed, tilting her head back against your chest to look up at you. “Da da da!”

Javier gave your knee a squeeze as he met your eyes, “Baby, you’re gonna have to pinch me.” He glanced back at his father then, “You hear that pops?”

“I sure did.” Chucho smiled at both of you. “You know, I think I’m gonna take the truck out and check on some work I sent the boys to sort out this week. I’ll be back before they show up.”

“You need any help?”

Chucho shook his head, “You stay right here, Javier.” He gave you a knowing look, before heading back in the house. 

“Are we sure she said daddy?” Javier questioned as he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I am certain.” You assured him, your heart aching from just how happy you felt. The joy on Javier’s face made everything worth it. The nerves, the worry, the anxiety, the uncertainty. Those two people made it all worth it. 

This was the Javier that no one else saw. The Javier that was madly in love with the tiny baby girl that the two of you had brought into the world. The Javier that was looking forward to being a stay-at-home dad. 

“Now we’ve got to get you saying mommy.” Javier murmured to Josie as he bounced her in his arms. 

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Thirteen: Just For Tonight

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,660

MASTERLIST

~

The entrance to the hotel was stylish. The marble floors and golden detailing screamed ‘you can’t afford me’. 

Spencer was carrying both your suitcases. The two of you wore sunglasses and hats. It made you laugh at first, the idea of dressing up like undercover superheroes. 

“Isn’t it just gonna make us more suspicious?”

“Actually, people tend to glance over those with their eyes or hair obscured. It’s more useful than most people think.”

“Uh-huh.” Bullshit.

So here you were, standing slightly behind Spencer as he talked to the woman at the front desk.

“Hello. Reservation for Chris Kelvin.”

The woman smiled and typed away at the keyboard. Then her face fell.

“Ah. I’m sorry Mr. Kelvin, we did try to get in touch with you. We left multiple messages.”

The FBI had taken your and Spencer’s phones. Something about tracking.

“What, is there a problem with the reservation?” The worry seeped into his voice, and the woman quickly reassured him.

“Oh, no. Well, slightly. You booked a double room but I’m afraid that there’s a bridal convention in town and all the double rooms have been booked up.”

“So, what, you don’t have any rooms?”

That’s not what she said, you thought bitterly.

“No, sir. We’ve had to change your reservation to a single bedroom. But! We are able to knock a few hundred dollars off the price.”

Spencer was silent, gaping at her.

She nervously fumbled through a drawer, looking to sweeten the pot.

“And . . . um . . . I can offer an all-inclusive couple’s spa treatment for you and your wife.”

She pulled out two coupons and handed them to Spencer. He made no move to take them.

As awkward as it was, you recovered enough to lean forward and take the tickets.

“Thank you,” and you hooked your arm around his elbow. “My husband and I appreciate it.”

You pulled him away from the front desk toward the elevator. Once the doors had shut, you let go, taking your suitcase from him.

“Sorry about that,” you said, adjusting your hat. “Figured it was less suspicious to just go along with it.”

He nodded curtly and didn’t say another word until you got to your room.

Despite the warning, you still found yourself surprised by the lone bed in the center of the room. There were two closets, two desks, and even two sinks in the bathroom. Was it that hard to put another bed?

If you weren’t so distracted by the prospect of sleeping with the man you had a crush on in a fancy hotel bed, you might have appreciated how fancy the room actually was.

You busied yourself with hanging up and putting away your clothes. You’d only had time to pack a couple of outfits and two sets of pajamas. The hotel probably had quick laundry machines, though. You weren’t worried.

Spencer, however, was nervously looking through the room, presumably for any kind of cameras or listening device.

Taking off your hat and glasses and throwing them on the desk, you said, “J.J. said they already did a sweep of the room.”

“Yeah, well, J.J. knows everything, right?” he spat bitterly, throwing his arms up.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him. He melted under your gaze, realizing how harsh he’d been.

“I’m sorry that was . . . I’m sorry. I’m a bit stressed. J.J. just . . . sometimes she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Before the two of you had left for the hotel, J.J. had pulled Spencer aside for a moment, whispering to him so you couldn’t hear. Afterward, he seemed agitated, more snappy. Did she say something about me? No. She wouldn’t. Right?

“It’s okay,” you said calmly, checking out the gorgeous bathroom — could a bathroom be gorgeous? — “I know all about being stressed. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he said quickly, an automatic reaction. “No, thank you, but I’m ok.”

“Okay,” maybe it was best not to press the issue. Only now did you register how dark it was outside. How had that much time passed since this morning? Maybe all the questions and consent forms you had to deal with forced your brain into autopilot, making time move faster. “I’m gonna get changed.”

A few minutes later you came out of the bathroom, wearing a large sleep shirt and underwear. You couldn’t bother with pajama pants right now. Besides, he’d seen you in your underwear before. It wasn’t crossing a line. Right?

He took one look at you and said, “I’ll make the request for a rollaway bed.” and picked up the phone on the nightstand.

“No!” he looked at you, waiting for an explanation. You had to think quickly to find one. “I mean, won’t that be suspicious? If they think we’re a married couple. . . .”

After analyzing you for a moment, he sighed and put the phone down.

“You’re right. I’ll take the floor.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to take the floor. We’ve had this conversation.”

“I can’t handle being . . . I’ll be fine, thank you.” 

It was so sad to watch him pull the pillows from the sofa to the floor, covering them with a blanket and taking a pillow from the bed. Did he not want to sleep with you that bad? Did he not like you that much?

“Please . . .” 

God, you were pitiful. This man was practically begging to stay away from you but you persisted. But he had asked to stay assigned to you. And what was that about not handling? The mixed signals were pulling your heart this way and that, constantly unsure of what to do next, of what was too far.

But Spencer looked at you with that same something in his eyes you’d seen before. You knew it was more than . . . whatever you currently had. It was greater than wanting, than hoping. The gravity of it hit you harder than you’d expected and as you stared into his dark hazel eyes, you felt your own beginning to well up with tears.

His face fell and he got up from the floor and sat on the bed, arms finding their way around you, coaxing you to lay down with him. 

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed into his dress-shirt. 

“Shh,” he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing it out and gently untangling it. It was a gesture filled with affection, adoration . . . love?

“I’m just so . . .” the words escaped you, but Spencer pulled back and looked at you, eyes probing yours, a slight smile on his lips.

“I know,” was all he said.

And in that instant, you knew. You knew absolutely the very last thing that would ever matter. That you were utterly, truly in love with Spencer Reid. And there was no way you could ever be together.

Somehow, the expression on your face must have shown your realization, for his own countenance shifted to one of understanding. His smile was gone but he wasn’t frowning. He was looking at you in a whole new light.

The moment broke when you thoughtlessly glanced at his lips. His perfect, pink lips that he constantly licked and bit. He pulled back slightly, not breaking eye-contact.

You didn’t have to speak but you did anyway. Barely a whisper.

“Spencer . . .”

“We can’t. I’m—”

“I know.”

But you continued staring at each other. You decided to test the waters by leaning in ever so slightly. His eyes widened but he didn’t protest or back away. But it wasn’t a ‘yes’.

Your lips were inches apart, slightly open, the two of you breathing heavily.

“Just for tonight,” you said, brushing your mouth against his ever so gently, barely making contact, but just enough to force a soft moan from his throat.

“Y/N . . . we really can’t.”

“Spencer.” You took his hand firmly in yours. “Just for tonight. Once. No more. And we can forget about it.”

It was a lie and you both knew it. If you kissed, not as part of some plan or distraction technique, but for real, neither of you would ever forget it.

“Just for tonight?”

You nodded, placing a delicate hand on his cheek, making him gasp so softly, leaning into it.

“Just for tonight. Once.”

“Just for tonight.”

And he closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a surge of fire and sparks. The kiss went through you, echoing in your bones. He was electricity against you. He was light.

His lips slowly pressed against yours and he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so he could delve deeper. It was more than a kiss. It was the release of all the tension and feelings that had built up over the few weeks you’d known him. You tried with all your might to convey the love you felt for him, biting his lips, pulling his hair, and yanking him closer to you.

Neither of you wanted to break it. You’d said only once. The moment it was over . . . it would be over.

But soon you were both out of breath, mouths hanging open against one another, too scared to pull away to see the others' reaction.

Simultaneously, you pulled back, staring at each other, trying to analyze your reactions. A slight smile found its way to your lips, provoking Spencer to share in it.

You wanted to lean in again. To say ‘fuck it’ and have him right here, right now, in this bed. To have all of him and give him all of you. But you’d said only once. Just for tonight.

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And you turned around, snuggling into him as you had before. Only this time, there was more to it. More than could be described with words.

You’d said ‘just for tonight’, probably hoping that it would somehow apply to the feelings you had as well. Come morning, you would discover that wasn’t how love worked. That wasn’t how love worked at all.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @matthewreid @perverted-guardian-angel @boiled-onionrings @rainsong01 @the-lovely-emma-swan @andiebeaword @itsmoony @cielo1984 @baby-i-am-fireproof @mendesminimuffin @fukyouthink

[wesawbears]

My @geraskierholidayexchange gift for @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934. I hope you enjoy! This ended up being inspired by the movie Elf. Happy holidays!

--

In and out Jaskier, he told himself as he adjusted his new work uniform. This was just a temporary gig until he got back on his feet. Besides, it was performance experience, in a way. Perhaps not the kind he��d been expecting, but he’d learned long ago to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Or a gift paycheck, as it were.

With a good luck jingle of his hat and a final tug on his elf ears to ensure they stayed in place, he headed inside to a Christmas wonderland.

More accurately, it was a mall toy store, but hey. Magic! Christmas spirit! Jaskier had never been fussy.

He looked around, glancing at the children milling about, exasperated parents trying to keep them from knocking everything off the shelves. Jaskier supposed he should be grateful, considering cleaning up their messes was now part of his job. Not seeing a manager around, he found the first employee he could see.

The man was tall, with snow white hair tucked up underneath an elf hat similar to Jaskier’s. He was hanging ornaments on a tree in the center of the store, likely ones that some of the running children had knocked over in their haste. He leaned down to pick up a stray ornament the man had missed, hoping to extend it as a token of goodwill toward his fellow employee. 

“I love the way you hang those ornaments. Truly an, uh, inspiring show of elfdom.”

The other man stared back at him like he was a space alien, which, okay, fair, that wasn’t one of Jaskier’s better introductions, but what was he supposed to say? 

“I’m working on this alone. Go away before Emhyr finds you and fires you.”

“Sorry. Just a bit turned around. I’m Jaskier.” He stuckout his hand, only to realize that his coworker had his hands full. 

“Geralt,” the other man said, not glancing away from the tree. 

“Nice to meet you! Do you happen to know where the manager might be then?”

As if on cue, another voice sounded behind him. “Geralt, those ornaments are supposed to be spaced apart at 3.8 in.”

“I can’t measure that in my head-”

“Figure it out.” the unfamiliar man turned to Jaskier. “You’re new. Follow me.”

Jaskier gave a last sympathetic glance back to Geralt, before following the manager to the back room.

Well, at least if he was working here for the season, he would have some eye candy while he did it.

--

It didn’t take long for Jaskier to learn Emhyr hated his fucking guts, and that he would undoubtedly be out of a job come January, but he didn’t mind too much. Being a hated employee ensured that he worked closing shift, which meant he got to work with Geralt. They’d fallen into somewhat of a routine over the last few weeks, cleaning while Jaskier changed the Christmas music to his carefully curated Spotify playlists, which Geralt steadfastly ignored. He’d learned that Geralt worked outdoors, so his job at the local nature preserve didn’t need him during the winter. He also knew that the only reason Emhyr hadn’t fired Geralt for his grumpy nature was that Geralt was Emhyr’s daughter Ciri’s godfather, in an arrangement far too complex for Jaskier to comprehend. In turn, he told Geralt about his performance aspirations, along with every other thought that came to his mind. Geralt didn’t say much, but he listened and made dry comments every so often and Jaskier was in love with him.

Jaskier had always fallen easily, it’s true, but that didn’t take away the flutter in his heart each time one of Geralt’s small smiles was sent his way, a wry laugh into a bottle of water as they waited for the time to switch to ten so they could lock up.

On one such night, the week before Christmas, Jaskier perched himself on the counter, watching Geralt finish cleaning the last of the displays. “Thank you, dearest. You know you’re so much better at organizing those than I am, and I’m pretty sure I’m one fuck up away from getting fired.”

Geralt snorted. “Emhyr won’t fire you. He still needs a warm body in the store and no one else will take night shift.”

“Except you. What is the deal with him anyway? He doesn’t seem the...toy store type. Seems more like a...retail baron to me.”

“He’s not. He’s a regional finance manager. They just couldn’t find anyone else to run the store this year. That’s why he’s being pissier than usual.”

“That...makes more sense. But he gets to see your smiling face, so, you know, a jolly time.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Yeah. He’s thrilled to see me. I’m sure my work ethic is what’s keeping him from spiking my eggnog at Christmas this year.”

“Has he...is that a legitimate worry?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Probably not.”

“That family dynamic will never make sense to me.”

Geralt sighed and leaned against the counter. “We make it work. For Ciri.”

“Is she excited for Christmas?”

“She is. Between here and spending time with her, I can’t get away from it.”

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t like Christmas?”

Geralt shrugged. “It just...wasn’t a big deal for me growing up.”

“That’s so sad!” Jaskier loved Christmas. Though he didn’t really spend time with his family anymore, he had fond memories of the annual Christmas party- the music, the desserts, the presents. Just the general feeling that all was right with the world.

“It’s fine. It’s just another day.”

“How are you making me even sadder?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“Of course,” Jaskier answered with a small flourish. “Geralt! I have an idea!”

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

Jaskier huffed. “I’ll show you the magic of Christmas! I”ll be like...your Christmas elf! Your spirit advisor.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You are so mean to me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Geralt shot him an incredulous look, but acquiesced. “What would...that...entail?”

“First rule of Christmas from your official spirit advisor: Christmas is about surprises.”

“I hate surprises.”

“That’s the spirit!”

--

They decided to hold their Christmas adventure two days later, since Emhyr had told them their services weren’t needed due to a school group volunteering to work as “Santa’s Elves” that day. They met up at the mall at 3, when they usually started work. Jaskier was decked (the halls) out in a very shiny Christmas sweater, while Geralt was in his finest funeral blacks. He had dressed warmly though, as requested, so Jaskier wasn’t going to complain too much.

“Ready, star pupil?”

“No. But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You do not.”

“Hmm.”

They headed out into the cold. The mall was just a short walk away from the rest of town, and Jaskier figured they could look at the lights on the way there. “My mom and sisters and I would always go walk around and try to pick our favorite lights every year. I thought we could try that. As an easy intro activity.”

Geralt glanced around, furrow in his brow. “They all look the same.”

“They do not! It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Then show me what you see, spirit advisor.”

“Fine,” Jaskier huffed. “Those ones, over there. They look like icicles on the trees. I like them because they sparkle off the snow and from far away, they just...ooze Christmas.”

“Hmm.”

“But I also like the more colorful ones. You can’t tell me that seeing lights everywhere doesn’t leave you feeling the least bit festive?”

“They’re just...bright.”

“Fine, sir humbug. Be difficult.”

They made their way into town, Jaskier showing him different lights, and Geralt remaining unmoved. He felt it was truly a lot cause when Geralt made a noise next to him. “Those ones.”

“Which ones?”

“There. Next to the coffee shop.”

There was a small display, only the barest flash of lights that looked like holly and ivy. They were much more subdued than anything Jaskier picked out, but he couldn’t bring himself to dull Geralt’s small bit of enthusiasm. “They’re lovely. See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

“I’m also getting cold.”

“There’s just no pleasing you. Well, I suppose we could stop for a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier led them inside, ordering a large hot chocolate for himself, while Geralt ordered a black coffee.

“Geralt! Come on, you have to get something at least a little Christmas-y.”

“Fine. One pump of peppermint.”

“Oh for the love of God.”

He allowed Geralt his approximation of holiday cheer and sat at one of the tables. He watched smugly as Geralt took a sip and held back a grimace at his concoction.

“How is it?”

“People put peppermint in coffee all the time. How do they like this?”

“Well, usually there’s also chocolate…”

“Too sweet.”

“Unfortunate,” Jaskier said, taking a large sip of his hot chocolate.

“Jaskier...I...appreciate you doing this for me, but I think I’m just not meant for-”

“For Christmas? For nice things?”

“It’s just not my thing.”

Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, be that as it may, I am your spirit advisor, and I did promise. At least allow me to try one more thing.”

Geralt nodded. Bolstered by his reaction, Jaskier pulled a small box out of his jacket.

“What’s that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a very good Christmas demonstration without a present, would it?”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

Jaskier waved his hand. “Seeing your face as you open this is gift enough. Open it!”

Geralt took the box wearily and unwrapped it carefully. Jaskier had half expected him to tear the wrapping paper apart, but instead he carefully untucked and smoothed out every edge. Inside was a small ornament, in the shape of a lion’s paw. Geralt stared at it quietly and Jaskier felt himself fidget.

“I know you call Ciri your little lion cub sometimes. I overheard you on the phone with her, and, you know, maybe I overstepped…” 

“Jaskier. Thank you. It’s...perfect.”

He looked up and saw Geralt with a soft smile, only this time it was only for Jaskier and he felt his heart melt. “You’re very, very welcome, Geralt,” he said, reaching out to clasp their hands together.

Geralt looked at their joined hands and slowly brought them to his lips. He kissed the back of Jaskier’s hand and he felt himself flush like a maiden in a period piece. Gracious, it was warm in here.

“Geralt…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You missed.”

The furrow in his brow was back. “What?”

Jaskier smiled. “You missed. Let me show you.”

He leaned forward and kissed Geralt softly, letting him take the lead and move forward to capture Jaskier’s lips fully. It was a bit minty and the angle was wrong, but Jaskier felt his heart swell anyway. It was perfectly Geralt.

They pulled away, and Jaskier smiled at the uncharacteristic flush across Geralt’s cheeks.

“Well,” he broke the silence, “I suppose my work here is done.”

“How’s that?”

“Nothing says Christmas like a Christmas kiss.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jaskier laughed and stood. “You should know I always am, darling. Now, come on! We don’t want to miss the ice skating rink…”

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Unspoken: Chapter Two - Oikawa Tooru x f!reader

Oikawa has been in love with you since you became a manager for the university’s volleyball team, but keeps it to himself in fear of what his fan club might do to you if they found out

genre(s): college!au, mutual pining (mostly Oikawa), friends to lovers, angst, eventual smut words: 3k+

a/n: told ya you didn’t have to worry 🤗 - J ✨

taglist: @takingyouruwus @kurosarium @apollochjld @afterglowkuroo @air-wreckaaa (lmk if you’d like to be added to my general or a specific taglist!)

Previous chapter 

Next Chapter (NSFW)

“Oikawa-san!! Oikawa-san!”

He stops in his tracks on his way into the gym. It was his mistake walking alone from class to practice, usually commandeering a teammate to act as a buffer and an escape route if needed. Plastering his practiced smile on his face, he turns to find the most tenacious members of his fan club trailing him and waving happily.

He indulges them, asking them about their days, what they’re up to later—the usual small talk shit he feels he might accidentally start saying in his sleep. It isn’t until he notices you striding up the sidewalk towards the gym does his heart punch up into his throat and his hands feel clammy. How is it that he can placate a gaggle of girls at the drop of a hat but when it comes to you, he sometimes feels like his tongue is twisting into knots?

You at least spare him a pitiful glance as you pass him, but don’t have the courage to help him out at the expense of incurring the wrath of the fan club. He doesn’t blame you. Though what makes his blood boil is the look they give you as you pass, like you aren’t worth their time and definitely not his.

But he’d spend every minute of his day with you if he could.

The thought hits him like a truck. What the fuck is he doing standing around here when you’re right there?

Excusing himself abruptly from the conversation, with a half-assed, “I need to get to practice ladies!” He jogs to catch up with you, unable to ignore the scowls pointed in your direction because of course they blame you. He supposes he blames you for stealing his heart too, but he can’t complain too much with the smirk you give him once he catches up.

“I didn’t think you had the balls for that Oikawa.”

He laughs—his real laugh, knowing the fan club is still watching, but unable to bring himself to care. “They must be huge then,” He leans in, shielding his mouth on one side to hiss, “because they are terrifying.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows for a moment. “I take it back.” He frowns animatedly. “I think they’re totally shriveled up right now.”

“Hey!”

You just laugh, reaching the gym and peeling your shoes off to change them before looking over your shoulder with a smile on your face that destroys him, and beckon him to follow you. You have no clue just how wrapped around your finger he is.

~

Recently, the fan club has gotten more vicious than they’ve ever been before. You’re usually able to ignore it, brushing it off and not letting it get under your skin. But with the increased tenacity of the club, it’s almost impossible to go a single day without hearing something from them. Before there were stretches of time that were peaceful and you usually only had to deal with it around game times.

And even if it damns you further, you can’t help your eyes scanning the dining hall for a friendly face one afternoon and locking onto Oikawa sitting with a couple other team members. Normally, you wouldn’t mind sitting alone but whenever you’re alone is when it’s the worst. And when you did your scan, the club is to nobody’s surprise sitting a few tables away from Oikawa.

He doesn’t notice you until you’ve approached the table, his eyes lighting up until he sees your expression. It immediately sets him on high alert, wondering just what the hell is wrong to make you look like that. Timid and nearly caving in on yourself, he has to resist his urge to leap out of his chair and smother you in his arms.

“Can I sit with you guys?”

He doesn’t even bother asking the others, knowing they won’t mind. He pats the empty chair next to him. “Of course!”

You give him a feeble smile before depositing your backpack on the chair and heading off to get yourself some food. One of the guys at the table frowns, obviously gleaning something is wrong just as Oikawa has. “What’s up with her?”

Oikawa racks his brain for anything that might have made you act like that, but he hasn’t seen you since yesterday’s practice and you were completely normal then. He scrunches his brows, and it’s then that he sees past his teammates shoulder and notices his fan club seated a few tables away. And they are deep in conversation.

He watches in horror as they all get up and head in your direction. It’s like his world slows to a snail’s pace as his eyes trail them, watching them huddle near the ice cream machine—directly next to you. His eyes widen, noticing how your body stiffens and your fingers grip your tray tightly while the fan club whispers amongst themselves. Then they move off, back to their table, looking rather smug.

He doesn’t have to be a genius to figure out what just happened and why you’d asked to sit with them.

Turning back to his table, he realizes everyone has just witnessed the same thing he did. And nobody looks very pleased. Oikawa presses his lips into a firm line before hissing, “It’s not like I tell them to do that!” He groans, tipping his head back and hating himself just a little bit.

When you return, you’re even stiffer than before. You slide into the chair, give them all a weak smile, and then pull out your phone to start quietly scrolling. In all honesty, if you try to talk to them right now you might burst into tears and you definitely don’t feel like explaining yourself to them. Nor do you feel like embarrassing yourself by crying in the middle of the dining hall with the fan club 3 fucking tables away. So instead, you stuff you mouth full of rice and shove the tightness growing in your throat down with it.

Halfway through your meal, the rest of the team excuses themselves, leaving just you and Oikawa at the table. You don’t know if this is worse or better.

But when you sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye and see his deep chocolate eyes filled with worry staring at you—you decide on worse.

“I’m fine,” you say quietly, not bothering to pause eating.

He grits his teeth, having expected that answer from you. “What did they say?”

You almost choke on your rice.

He saw?

Now you sigh, putting down your chopsticks to look at him. “It doesn’t matter.” His frown only deepens, clearly not believing you. Without your permission, your heart beats thunderously against your chest with his full attention on you. You’ve never seen Oikawa look so serious outside of volleyball before and it’s directed at you and you have no idea what to do with yourself. “It’s just gotten worse lately,” you whisper.

“Worse?”

His voice raises enough that you have to shush him. Once he calms down a bit you continue, “They just don’t like me because I’m a manager for the volleyball team, okay? It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The lie feels slimy on your tongue.

They’re slowly breaking you—and you know it. But that doesn’t mean Oikawa needs to know about it.

“They don’t do that to Miko!” He hisses, leaning in close and hoping nobody around you can hear your conversation.

You sigh, unsure if he’s being dense or he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, well, Miko doesn’t stay late to help you practice or study with you in the library or I don’t know—be your friend? They don’t like the idea of anyone being close to you who isn’t them!”

You don’t really know why you’re angry, but does he really not see? Shoving out your chair, you gather your things, snatch your tray and leave him sitting dumbfounded in his chair. The snickering of the fan club is mere din in your ears compared to the blood rushing through them.

Why do you think they target you—Oikawa? Could it be the small smiles reserved just for you that he gives you, the late nights spent together, the fact you spend so much time with him and seem to make him happy? Through your anger, you can’t see what all of those things add up to. Instead, you stride out of the dining hall intent on returning to your apartment and screaming into your pillow.

It’s not that he doesn’t see. He knows anyone who gets close to him becomes a target. Girls have broken up with him in the past over it. But you never…brought it up. You never talked about it and he figured it either didn’t bother you, or he’d foolishly hoped maybe you’d slipped under their radar. Seems he’d been wrong in so many ways.

~

A few days pass after your outburst in the dining hall. You act normally at practice, though ignore him more than usual, and he at least has the mind to leave you alone and not ask you to stay late with him. Instead resorting to practicing late alone and it becoming extremely clear to him how much he misses you.

Until one day you’re absent. It’s so jarring to him he can barely focus during practice, getting knocked on the head a few times with a volleyball by his teammates. You never miss practice, and when you do you always let someone know well in advance. This time, all he gets for an explanation is a vague ‘she wasn’t feeling well’ from Miko.

He thinks that’s bullshit. Knowing full well you’d be here even if you were sick as a dog and they’d all have to force you to go home and rest. It’s happened on several occasions.

So, when practice wraps up, he is the first out the door, garnering strange looks from the others. He sprints across campus to your apartment building just on the outskirts of the school, takes the stairs by twos and arrives at your door panting with thighs burning from his mad dash over here. He’s able to compose himself a moment before knocking on the door.

Your roommate answers, her eyes widening at the sight of Oikawa Tooru standing on the other side of the door. For a brief moment he thinks she’s going to shut the door in his face, judging by her displeased expression. He asks if you’re here.

Her expression doesn’t change. “Yeah, but why the fuck should I let you in?”

That only confirms that something is very wrong. He stands there, trying desperately to form the words to convince her to let him in to see you. All he’s able to choke out is a quiet, “Please.”

He has no idea how that convinces her. Maybe he looks so pathetic she feels bad for him, but either way she stands to the side and wordlessly beckons him inside. He follows her down the hallway, stopping at your door as she continues down to the end reaching her door. Before she shuts it, she glares at him, getting her point across without saying a word.

She will hurt him if he hurts you.

He swallows nervously. This entire interaction has only made his worry shoot through the roof and he has no idea what he’s walking into as he opens the door.

Your room is dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window and from the hallway behind him, illuminating your frame curled under your covers with your back to the door. “Akane I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” Your voice is so fragile his heart splits in two.

His throat closes up. “It’s—it’s not Akane.”

Your head whips up at the sound of Oikawa’s voice. You turn, finding him standing in the doorway, his face so shadowed by the light of the hallway behind him that you can’t read his expression. You wish you had the energy to throw a pillow at him and tell him to get out, that you don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want anyone to see you like this—to see how some stupid fucking words broke you.

Instead, your lips tremble and the tears you’ve been holding back for hours pool in your eyes. And while you can’t see him, he can see you clear as day, and his heart splinters watching you try to keep your tears at bay. He’s frozen for a moment, but when your tears spill over onto your cheeks, he moves on instinct.

He crouches at the side of your bed, taking your hands into his, rubbing the tops of them with his thumbs while tears continue to roll down your face. His hands are warm, the familiarity of his callouses startling you yet comforting all the same. Each quiet sob of yours makes his chest crumble in on itself, all while his mind running through every situation that made you like this.

“What’s wrong?” He asks tentatively.

You hate the sob that shakes you. How dare his voice be so soft and soothing?

“It—it’s stupid,” you manage to squeak out.

His hands move from yours to cup your face and start wiping your tears away. It only makes you cry harder. Why does he have to be so wonderful yet so unattainable?

He frowns, not a fan of you undermining your feelings like that. He moves to climb into your bed, which you surprisingly let him, and gathers you into his lap. He wraps his arms around you, letting you press your face into his chest, the end of your tears nowhere in sight. “It’s not stupid if it’s made you cry,” he murmurs into your hair, one of his hands rubbing tender circles on your back.

Nothing he is doing is helping to stop your crying. It’s only making you sob harder, not wanting to admit that his fan club finally broke you.

He says your name quietly. “Please tell me.”

“No.”

That makes him sigh deeply, your head rising and falling against his chest. “Your stubbornness is impressive but you’re the one who’s going to give in today.” That at least earns him a scoff from you.  “And I’m not going to leave until you tell me.”

“I don’t want you to leave, I just don’t want to tell you,” you say so plainly his brain short circuits for a second. He thought maybe your sobs have subsided but, they start anew, and your fingers grip his shirt like you’re trying to pull yourself even closer to him. You can’t deny how warm and comforting he is, nor how much you didn’t realize the only person you really wanted to see was him. “It was awful today. They wouldn’t leave me alone.”

His entire body stiffens. Through your sobs, you manage to explain, “It was so dumb, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“What did they say?” He says his voice dipping into a deadly tone.

You bury your face into his chest, your voice muffled as you say, “That the only reason you all keep me as a manager for the team is because you can’t have somebody pretty to distract you.”

His blood runs cold. Gripping your shoulders, he yanks you away from his chest so forcefully you gasp in surprise. He holds you an arm’s length away from him, his eyes boring into your soul. You’re speechless, waiting for him to say whatever is on his mind.

But what you aren’t expecting is for him to say with all the seriousness in the world, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on.” And it’s so shocking that your natural reaction is to burst out laughing in the ugly ‘what the fuck is happening?’ sort of way. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am!” He shakes you as if that’s going to make you believe him.

Now you’re stunned. Enough that your tears dry up and you just look at him. He watches you with bated breath, the wheels clearly turning in your head as you start to put the pieces together. “You—you’re…”

God, he’s over this. “Can’t you see that I’m fucking in love with you dammit!” He shouts, loud enough that he’s certain your roommate hears it too.

You brain grinds to a halt and the only word you’re able to say is, “Oh.”

You’ve slowly been coming to the realization that the same is true for you. And hearing him say it only makes you that much surer of it. He looks like he’s about to combust that all you can say is ‘oh’, and when he’s about to open his mouth to get you to say anything else, you cup his face with your hands making his mouth snap shut.

The moment your lips meet his, he’s done for. Kissing him his terrifying, knowing you’ve crossed a line that once you’ve crossed you can’t go back—but as one of his hands slides to the back of your head and the other to your waist to press you flush against him it simply starts to feel right. Like your hands were meant to caress his cheeks before moving to tangle in his hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a deep rumble of pleasure from him that you swear you haven’t heard in your dreams before.

He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s thought about this moment before and knows exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his tongue. Holy fuck—he’s intoxicating, making all thoughts of his fan club and any of your insecurities disappear into meaningless nothing. He’s telling you right here, without words, just what he thinks about you.

And it’s that you’re perfect in every conceivable way to him.

“Oikawa,” you breathe between kisses.

“Mmh.”

It’s a minute before you have the chance to speak again. “The door is still open.”

That makes him laugh. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I don’t care right now.”

“I do!” You push away from him, somehow escaping his attempt to grab you and pull you back to the bed. Once you’ve shut the door, you hop back into the bed next to him, but he protests with a stellar pout and drags you into his lap so he can pepper kisses all over your face and neck.  “Oikawa, please!” You try to scramble away from him, but he holds you tight, refusing to let you go.

“Not until you promise not to believe a word they say anymore,” he mumbles against your neck.

You sigh, taking his head into your hands and forcing him to stop his ministrations for a second to look him straight in the eyes. “It’s hard.”

His eyes soften. “I know. But I need you to know none of it is true—none of it. And you’ve owned me, heart and soul, since the first day you stepped into the gym.” It’s so unbearably cheesy that you try to cover your face with your hands, but he restrains you, his large hands wrapped around your wrists and he peers to look at you. “Promise?”

“You’re annoying,” you say, desperately trying to normalize this situation.

He pouts. “That’s not nice—,”

“I promise.” You cut him off. “Now you promise me that you won’t let them kill me in my sleep.”

He barks out a laugh at that, relishing in the sound of yours joining it. Then he presses his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning your face as he murmurs, “Yes, I promise.”