#i'm just going to ask my boss to give me as many doubles shifts as he can and it's going to be ok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tahanann · 2 years ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well ❞ ✎▫✧⭒....

Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: F/M Pairing: Alfred F. Jones (America) / (Female) Reader Chapter list: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 Also posted on: AO3, Wattpad, Quotev

Chapter 11: " 27 " ✎▫✧⭒…

Meetings at the office were never really a good thing, especially when it's just between two people. (Y/n) sat in the office, waiting for her boss to arrive. She had been called her earlier...and she doesn't really know why. She had been doing her work and submitting papers in time before they were due. All the reports hit the quota and nothing gets away from her radar. She even goes as far double-check things.

The woman played with her fingers as the time passed. The silence around her was deafening. Not even the loud hallways outside were helping her. They all sound mumbled and distant, and normally those noises would be too loud. Her nervousness made her listen to her heartbeat more. The loud thumps played in her ears as her brain filled up the silence as best as it could.

Until the door behind her swung open and her boss, a tall, brooding woman, walked in with files in her hand. Those were placed gently on the black tabletop and the light was adjusted to shine on the beige folder. The woman in charge didn't open the file, instead, she connected her hands together and rested her chin on top.

"Do you know why I called you to my office today?" Her boss, Sharon, asked.

(Y/n) found the courage to look directly at her. "No," she answered. It was a simple response but many things can be taken from her voice and her mannerism. Sharon was a smart woman and knew when something was troubling her employees. She knew when another woman was stressed, emotionally unavailable, and simply out of it.

The (h/c) haired woman had been showing signs of this. Despite her ability to produce satisfactory work, it was clear that she wasn't acting the same as before. (Y/n) had been working here for years, was close with almost everyone, and now she's shutting herself away. She rarely talks to anyone in the office, with the exception of Felicia, and never properly greets anyone anymore.

A major behavior shift was suspicious to her boss. Sharon knows those signs all too well, but she didn't want to press further until she deemed it too late.

"It's about your behavior," Sharon replied, no longer keeping (Y/n) in the dark. "You've been changing the past few months. Sure, we accept a change here, but this is clearly for the worst rather than the best."

So that's what she was called for.

(Y/n)'s boss has always cared for her. She cared for everyone. She was seen as some sort of benevolent boss who never hesitated to set what was right for everyone. (Y/n) felt almost guilty to be put in here. With everything going on with her, she felt as if being here and getting talked to was a burden for her boss. This meeting took hours away from what Sharon could be normally doing. She could have been helping her peers out.

The (h/c) haired woman found it hard to respond to her boss. This almost felt like pity for her sorry state.

The silence from (Y/n) was taken as a sign to keep talking. "You know everyone's been worried about you," Sharon sighed.

"They shouldn't. I'm fine," (Y/n) smiled, "There's no need to worry about me. I can make things work out." It's better to dismiss everything rather than actually address things. The woman was aware that she was going downhill. It's been happening for a while now, but it's nothing that she can't crawl out of.

Right?

"Listen if you need to take more breaks, you're more than welcome to. You still have available vacation days, so why not take a break for a while. Give yourself some space and time." Her boss had an empathetic smile on her, which (Y/n) saw as more of a pity smile. Still, she sent him another smile back before shaking her head.

"I'll take those vacation days when I want to," (Y/n) hummed, "I'll be okay. I'm not on the brink just yet."

Sharon nodded. Although she would press even further, the woman seemed to be okay. That wasn't the case...but it's hard to make her open up. She'd have to depend on Felicia to get her to talk, considering that they're closer than anyone around here. The boss let her leave the room, leaving her contemplating.

(Y/n) will never know what her boss is thinking. She has a clue that it's about her, but she doesn't know what that woman is planning. All (Y/n) can do right now is wait.

Wait in her office space, typing on her computer and finishing reports. Wearing a fabricated smile instead of her usual frown. Everyone's suspicious of her. She needs to get rid of that.

No one needs to worry about her. Why should they? She's okay. She will be.

Throughout the entire day, (Y/n) was by herself, working to distract herself from everything, from her obsession.

Her thoughts.

Her emotions.

She left work with a smile on her face but entered her car with a frown. (Y/n) stayed in her car for a while. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel as she stared at the sky outside. It was still bright, with orange and red forming the prettiest combination.

The parking lot was peaceful and quiet. The atmosphere enabled her thoughts to spring out from the back. They swarmed, filling her mind with overwhelming feelings. The woman's eyes relaxed as she relived the emotions she went through this morning. Her hands trembled but kept their place on the steering wheel. Soon enough her lips followed, and her eyes became misty.

(Y/n) pursed her lips together after she sighed. She needed another distraction. She started her car and drove away from her work. The woman made sure that she drove safely on the road. She didn't care to speed and followed every single rule on her way home. Upon pulling up on her driveway, she hurried inside her home and locked the front door.

She tossed her belongings on the couch and enclosed herself in her bedroom. The lights were dimmed and she didn't bother changing to more comfortable clothes. She sunk into her bed, in her work clothes, as she felt the despair she hid away from her. Normally, she doesn't burst into tears upon getting home.

Today was different though. Maybe the bottle decided to crack open and spill out everything she's been keeping inside.

The woman laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling, as her eyes continued to well tears. The droplets fell down her face. Eventually, it all escalated and she stayed in her bed, crying.

Such a pitiful state she's in.

(Y/n) kept her dormant condition until she ran dry. She took in a deep breath from her lips and let it escape her afterward. She continued this exercise until she could force another smile. The woman managed to gather the energy to sit up. She stripped out of her work clothes and slipped into comfortable pajamas. She made her way to the kitchen where she ate dinner and moped around in her living room. She watched a comforting video she always turned to whenever she was feeling under the weather.

Although it seemed futile, it gathered a few laughs from her.

She walked back up to her room, trudging the floors, and sat on her bed. Her (e/c) eyes stared at the drawer that kept letters from Jones. Her thoughts resurfaced, but her psyche did its best to keep them tucked away to prevent another session.

(Y/n) had Jones in her mind, the perfect image of him at least. The mysterious, faceless soldier wore a green uniform and gleaming glasses. His smile sat on his featureless face. Sure, to the normal eye, this depiction of him would seem odd, but to the woman, it was her everything. It was her sweetheart.

He was hers...she was his.

The woman stayed dazed, staring blankly at the drawer that kept everything that reminded her of Jones. Her lips no longer had to force a smile, as one naturally crept up.

"Jones," She breathed out. How her heart seemed to sing for him, as if he were truly there, truly alive and well. Her delusions ran rampant in her mind as she stayed in her state. As much as she wanted to open one of the older letters to fuel her fantasy, she refused to move. She feared that one touch of the most recent ones would break everything she's dreamed of.

And no one wants their fantasy broken. Not in this condition.

So (Y/n) detracted and brought herself out of her blank state to fall into bed. There she lay with her phone, browsing until her body passed out from exhaustion. In her dreams, she lived in a world fueled by her love and imagination, where she danced with Jones. She could never hear his voice, but she could read his lips.

He called her baby, sweetheart, angels. Anything that could make the girl's heart sing. Their hands were intertwined and never departed. They were as close as they could be while dancing to jazz. It was, as if, they were bound by the waist by an invisible string. It kept them together. The closeness brought both of them comfort.

But everything was robbed from her as soon as she opened her eyes.

It was dark in her room. Her (e/c) eyes focused on the light that peeked through her blinds. The warm summer breeze pushed through the window and kissed her bare shoulder. It brought her warmth, but it wasn't enough to comfort her. An underlying dread washes over her as she realized that it was a new day.

Another letter from Jones.

(Y/n) stuck around in bed more. She knew that as soon as she got up, she had to open another letter. Even if she told herself she didn't need to, it was hard not to. She did everything in her power to make time for herself, but her body knew she still had to.

It made a reason for her to get up. Her stomach started growling, urging her to get up and head to the kitchen.

To start the routine.

The woman knew she couldn't starve herself. Hesitantly, she pushed herself up. (Y/n) made sure not to look at the spot in bed that had the letters tucked underneath. She walked to the bathroom to freshen up. She wanted to head straight to the kitchen, but her body forced her back into her room. She happened to stop in front of the spot.

Her lips and hands quivered as she reached down to grab the box filled with letters. She plucked one out and ripped through the envelope. She was careful not to rip its contents. Her (e/c) eyes studied its contents, finding another journal scrap, but it was structured like a letter. (Y/n) wasn't sure what pile to put it in, the collection of journal scraps or the letters pile.

This kind of format was odd. It was either-or, but never between. Still, there was little to no organization to the thoughts being poured into the paper. It felt more like ramblings. There were tear stains on the paper, but that was no longer an oddity for her. The woman didn't want to analyze it further, fearing that she'll get too into it and she'll spiral down with him today.

"Good morning Jones," (Y/n) softly smiled, "How are you, soldier."

Good morning my darling angel, The world seems to hate us a little more today. Maybe there's no more saving grace for us soldiers anymore. Maybe it's truly not giving us another chance. I have been praying every single day that God would do something, but he's done nothing but watch. It's all like a game of chess, except I can't control anything. I'm just another goddamn pawn. I can't say that you are too, baby, since you're all the way back home. You're safe. You're like the queen. You're being protected by the others back at home. I'm doing all I can to protect you. I can't change my fate or anything, but I wish I did. I wish I still had some saving grace. I wish I had something done to me so I didn't have to stay here anymore. I need a miracle, but getting those involves God's charity. And God is cruel today. We lost someone and normally, I show a lot of pity to the guys we've lost, but, this one is different, baby. It's someone I didn't think we could lose. Charles. We've lost him. It's just me and Alex now. And you know, it's all my fault. It always is. I was put in the same squad as Charles today. Things were going so well, but he got himself blown up. He's an idiot, isn't he? I try to tell myself that, because I know if I carry this guilt with me, I might as well be six feet under. As much as I dislike him, he still put the effort into saving me. He told me to duck and cover. He told me that he'll take the shot and clear out the path ahead in front of us. He had better eyesight than me, he said, but this damn fool couldn't see the incoming grenade headed straight for us. I know I tried to tell him, but I suppose the shock was hitting me. I saw him explode. He had lost his leg, but he was still breathing. I tried to save him as best I could, but it all happened too fast that all I got from it was "tell my girlfriend that I love her. Send her the letter and tell her that I died in a good way, in full pieces." I did what I was told because that's all I'm good for. It hurt to write this time. Not because of the shock, but because of everything that's happened to me and Charles. I wish he still told me that he hated me, so I could stop thinking about him. But he still cared for me. I hate that fact. It hurts me too much. The image is burning in my head and I can't get it out. As much as I pick at my head and try to get it out, it's staying there. Charles, that idiot, still saved me, even if he could have just left me there and ran away himself. I can't handle it, you know. And I think this is karma for everything. For shooting so many people, so many other soldiers. This is something God is playing against me. I'm losing control of everything. I feel like I can't breathe. I can't. It's hard to. I pray and pray that everything is fine, but nothing. Absolutely nothing. I've lost faith in God, for all he does is play tricks on vulnerable men who risk their lives every day. He can't hear us amidst all the bombardments and bombs. But you. You're here. I have faith in us, no matter how far apart we are from each other. I can lean on you to be there for me. I pray that God hears you back at home, where it's peaceful and safe. My darling angel, maybe you can tell him my messages and prayers. I pray that he does. I pray that you tell him everything. I pray that you still have me in your thoughts, in your prayers, because I have you in mine. Continue to be safe back at home. Dearly yours, A.F.J

(Y/n)'s stomach twisted and turned, sending her emotions that put her through another spiral. Her shaking hands brought the letter to her lips. She placed a soft, kiss against the paper and lingered there for a moment. The man was going through so much, and she was here to listen to him spill out his emotions. If only she had some way of telling him that there was someone actually reading everything he sent.

It would have brought him the comfort that he needed. He wouldn't have to force himself to believe that his beloved was listening to him. (Y/n) could tell that his girlfriend wasn't. She didn't think about the technicalities anymore. She knew it was cruel to leave him hanging with hope.

How could anyone do that to him? If anything, the girlfriend was cruel and the more she read the letters, the more disdain she grew.

"I'm sorry Jones, I wish I had you in mine," (Y/n) whispered. It took a while for the woman to keep herself together. She placed the letter back in its home and hid it in the drawer filled with his letters. She lingered in her bed longer, her eyes blankly staring at the drawers.

"I wish I could have you."

Her lips arched into another small, pathetic smile. (Y/n) pried her eyes away from the sight and pushed herself up. She headed to the kitchen where she prepared her meal, alone. In her thoughts, the perfect version of Jones haunted her. She imagined him around her, watching her cook. It made her genuinely smile. Her own version of reality continued to play, but it all stopped when she heard her phone buzz.

(Y/n) arched a brow as she grabbed her phone and picked up the call.

"Hey," a soft voice spoke through the speaker, "I just wanted to check up on you since, you know I don't really see you walk out anymore."

"Matthew," (Y/n) replied, "I'm okay. I just haven't found anything interesting to do lately so I've been cooped up in my home a lot. Why? What's up?"

"I've just been wondering where you were, since you don't really respond to my texts anymore. The only time we ever really see each other is when we sometimes see each other on the driveway," Matthew mumbled, "I wanted to hang out with you, but you seem really busy all the time so I never really bothered."

"I'm sorry Mattie," (Y/n) spoke, "I uhmm...I'm free right now, actually. Maybe we can go somewhere together."

"I'm actually planning on bringing Kuma with me to a park. He needs to take a walk and maybe burn a little chub. Do you wanna go with me?"

"I'd love to."

Their call ended then and (Y/n) put the phone down. She continued preparing her meal and finished as soon as she heard her doorbell ring. She walked over and opened the front door, showing her face to Matthew. She was glad that she managed to fix her appearance before him. She doesn't want him asking about her heavy eyebags and bloodshot eyes.

Kuma barked happily, pulling Matthew closer to her so he could sniff her. He then rubbed himself around her, with his tail wagging fast that his butt started to follow along. The puppy wanted pets and of course (Y/n) obliged. She exchanged greetings with Matthew before she started cooing at the whimpering dog.

"He's missed you, you know?" Matthew grinned, "He doesn't even get this excited to see me and honestly I'm a little jealous."

"Aww...sorry puppy, I was busy," (Y/n) hummed. She gently pets behind his ear, causing the dog's eyes to droop a little. "I don't have any treats for you right now, but he's free to roam around the house for now. I have to eat my breakfast before we can head out."

The Canadian nodded. The duo followed their friend to the kitchen, where they sat and talked for a while. Most of it is just catching up. Nothing too...intrusive in (Y/n)'s opinion. Although, she knows that Matthew has a clue as to what's wrong with her. She doesn't want his concern either, even if it might help. Her speculations are entirely just that.

Speculations.

She doesn't have any solid proof, but she'll keep her guard.

When she was finished with her food, she excused herself from the dining table. (Y/n) went on ahead to change and touch up her features before grabbing her essentials. After, she called Matthew over to the front door, and together they started walking.

Idle chatter springs between them, filling up the empty space. It would have been awkward to walk in silence, especially when there's a friend who's gone missing for a while. Matthew talked mostly about his troubles which were lightweight. There had been trouble at his work concerning polar bear habitat conservation. It was a serious topic and Matthew had so much passion for it.

(Y/n) had nothing much to say, as she was afraid of spilling too much and confirming Matthew's concerns. The blonde wasn't much to pry either and opted to continue the conversation when she didn't want to. Matthew was a good man...but to burden him with what she was troubled with is too much for her to handle.

Eventually, they landed at the park that was near their neighborhood. There was a dog park for Kuma to run and socialize with other dogs. (Y/n) and Matthew found a comfortable spot beneath the shade to keep away from the summer sun.

They were comfortable and (Y/n) had a good distraction from her thoughts. They weren't as troubling today, but the account written in today's opened letter was bothering her. The woman sunk in her spot, her eyes stuck on Kuma's white fur.

"Something's troubling you," Matthew mumbled.

(Y/n) arched a brow but never looked at Matthew. "What do you mean?"

"I can see it in your eyes. Your eyebags look heavier than usual. You've been isolating yourself for god knows how long and your voice seems so uninterested in everything." Matthew looked down at his hands. "I...I've been there before you know...I know stuff...I know things that can probably help you if you let me."

She supposed her absence from Matthew's life and her appearance gave everything away. Matthew was always the smart one. The most emotionally aware person she's ever met.

"So it's that obvious?" (Y/n) let out a dry laugh. "I'm okay, Mattie, I'm just a little tired from everything. Work is putting a lot of stress on me, you know? I've been getting through it. I haven't done anything too outrageous, I suppose. I should be okay."

Another excuse to push away someone who's concerned. Great.

"But, you know there's eventually going to be a point where you will do something, right?" Matthew mumbled. He moved closer so he could keep their conversation more private. "Look I'm super worried about you."

"You sound like my other friend," (Y/n) smiled.

"Are you saying another person knows?"

"Yeah. Doesn't really matter though. Not like it's taking over. I still have a bit of control over my life." (Y/n) shrugged, "It's been going at it for a while, but I don't really care if I'm miserable about it or not. I'll get over it, maybe, and then I'll be okay."

"You can't just keep denying it exists. If you need help then you need help," Matthew spoke. He was going to go off on some tangent about getting aid for her mental illness.

But he doesn't. He doesn't want to push her boundaries. There are different types of people that deal with their own issues. If she can handle it her own way, then he'll let her. He just wanted her to know that he knows what going on.

"Look...if you ever need to call someone or you want to just talk to them in person, I'm available. You already have my number and stuff so feel free to, okay?" He gently leaned against her. It was his way of giving her comfort. "I'm literally right across the door. Just give me a knock and Kuma will just start barking at me to get to the door. I'm sure the lil guy doesn't mind helping out."

"You're the second person to offer me help you know?" (Y/n) giggled. "Said the exact same thing, actually."

"Oh?" Matthew smiled, "Well I'm certainly not going to be your last, nor am I going to be just your backup caller. Not saying that you should give me a call first, but...just a suggestion."

"I'll think about it Mattie," (Y/n) hummed, "For now...Let me try and sort through this myself. Just need some time, that's all."

And a lot of distractions.

"I hope you know that I'm putting a lot of trust into youto keep yourself in check," Matthew murmured.

"And I promise I won't let you down."

(Y/n) sent him a small, authentic smile. Matthew kept himself pressed against her, although, he made sure not to put his entire weight on her. The woman returned the gesture and they balanced each other out.

For the rest of that day, Matthew put as much effort into making her happy. He invited her over to her house to help him cook dinner for two. After dinner, (Y/n) stayed over longer to watch a recorded hockey match with the blonde. It was easy to say that Matthew enjoyed it more than she did, but she liked the company. Once the night ended, Matthew walked her back to her home.

(Y/n) lingered at the frame of her front door. "Thanks for hanging out with me, Mattie. I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem," Matthew smiled, "Besides...we needed to have one soon anyway."

The duo whispered their good nights and soon (Y/n) locked her doors. She received a text from her friend and it put a smile on her face. "Don't be a stranger! I mean it this time! Don't disappear on me :(" the text read. The woman replied "I won't. Don't worry. I'll try not to, but I can't make any promises! <3"

(Y/n) fixed herself up for the night. Now basking in the silence of her cold home, she was left with her thoughts. They drifted back to what she believed was her lover. Jones presented himself in her mind with a smile, with his lips mouthing out "how was your day, angel?" The woman was caught in the conversation and stood in the bathroom for a while.

She took herself out of reality for a bit, eventually snapping out of it 30 minutes later. The woman finished her routine and headed to bed, where she spent more time dissociating until her body decided to fall asleep. By the time she woke up in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Another breeze swept by her room, placing a kiss on her cheek this time.

It was 11 am.

The woman stays in her bed, stuck in another daze. Her mind raced with images and words, with her heart gathering emotion. The morning dread was typical and it kept her anchored on her mattress. Her hands lay limp and her feet refused its purpose. There she kept her attention on her mind, where she reveled in the thoughts of being held.

Her dream gave her comfort in the motionless shell she called a body.

But she was, again, brought back to reality with her stomach.

It was already 2 pm.

(Y/n) gathered up all the strength she could to push herself up. Her feet dangled above the floor. Her heels hit the box below. The letters. There they sat in their home, waiting to be opened by her. The woman stood up and trudged through the home, getting ready for another day of doing absolutely nothing.

She stayed in her bathroom for a moment, her eyes blankly staring at the sink. Her mind wanders and continues to do so.

Jones. Jones...Jones.

Whispering the soldier's name, she smiles but was brought back to a frown after a while. His image disappears in her mind, tucked away by her remaining sanity. (Y/n) moved her body to approach the box under her mattress. She followed her routine, ripping the envelope and studying the parchment inside. Another ramble formatted like a letter. Always addressed to his darling angel. But lacked the tear stains.

She didn't read further and didn't press for a deeper analysis.

"Good morning Jones," (Y/n) whispered.

To my dearest angel, It's difficult to say these things to you. You know you mean so much to me, but sometimes I wonder if you feel the same way. I know you do, I'm praying you do, but sometimes at night, I think. I think about a lot of things that I want to pick out of my head. Those awful thoughts rot my brain. It's why I rarely don't think, but I do, sometimes. I'm doubting. I thought in the past that I no longer had doubts about everything and accepted fate as it is, but there's this itching idea in the back of my head. It's saying that you don't love me. You don't care about me. It's why you never send any letters back. But I know it's different. I know you're working hard back at home. Even if you aren't saying anything back to me, I know you're looking at the same moon and stars, regardless of where I am. It's because I remember. You remember how I told you I'd be your moon right? And that you'd be my stars. I still think it's us up there. I wish it was truly like that, so I don't have to worry about anything anymore. So that I could just have you up there and we'd be at peace together in the same sky. In the same place. In the same home. You know, I feel awful, baby. I feel like everything I've built up in life, everything I've worked for is falling apart in front of me. I feel like a worthless sack of shit that keeps trying to rebuild and rebuild, but it's hard. I'm running out of bricks and my brain refuses to keep itself sane. I can't sleep at night anymore but I can barely keep myself awake in the morning. I miss my ma, my pa, granddad, grandma. I miss everyone. I miss life back at home. Most importantly, I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss kissing you, bringing you gifts, and holding you. It's too cold at night. Too quiet. Makes me get shaky and jittery. There's no one to hold, but, the thought of you just makes me really happy. Helps with the night shakes. Keeps me going, truly. I'd love to keep thinking about us, but the doubts really steer my brain the wrong way. I hope I'll find some way to claw them out of there. I'll find a way, eventually, but I promise you no harm will happen. I'll try and keep myself in peace so you'll still see me as the guy you fell in love with. I'll forever keep you in my prayers and in my thoughts. Dearly yours, A.F.J

"I'll have you in my thoughts too," the woman softly spoke. "Forever."

She started at the paper before her. Although he seemed to be ill, he still has some hope inside him. He's a dedicated man...and (Y/n) will equally be as dedicated as him.

(Y/n) smiled before placing the usual, lingering kiss against the paper. Although there was no way to contact him, she could only hope that his spirit knows that someone loves him as much as he loved his girlfriend. Her lips departed and she tucked the letter back into its home.

"I'll see you tomorrow, baby," she whispered.

#hetalia x reader #hetalia #reader insert #hws x reader #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #x reader #fem reader #alfred f jones x reader

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shelbystales · 2 years ago

Text

Best Aid - Part Three

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 -

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing

A/N: comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot thank you very much

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

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Because of the accident, your boss asked you to do another 12-hour shift. The hospital was chaotic and some patients had even been sent to other hospitals for lack of beds.

It turns out that before the firefighters arrived, another two cars that were on fire actually exploded, as Thomas had predicted. Not many people were hurt by these explosions because the parking lot was practically empty. The problem was that the financial loss was huge and the hospital's pipeline had been damaged, which caused the closure of a wing of the hospital forcing a relocation of patients.

Your shift was over an hour ago, but things were so hectic that you and Jeremy stretched out a little longer.

Dressing in your normal clothes, finally stopping to pay attention to your body, you saw how tired you were.

"I'm a wreck," you said meeting Jeremy in the locker room

"Me too. I know it's only ten o'clock at night, but it's been past my days of hours and hours of shifting in a row. I made a promise to myself and I wouldn’t double shift no more" he said wearily "my mental health is more important"

"Well I'm kind of used to it" you smiled, putting on your sneakers "but today was intense"

"It was really intense. I can't wait to get home and soak in my bathtub" he said hopefully

"I'm jealous. I need to get an apartment with a bathtub now" you laughed.

"It makes all the difference," he said standing up when you finished putting your shoes on.

He offered to give you a ride home since your car had turned to coal. You hadn't called insurance yet, but you were pretty sure they would cover the expenses somehow.

On the way out of the hospital, you were surprised to find Thomas outside smoking a cigarette.

You looked at Jeremy with a doubtful face and they walked up to him

"What are you still doing here?" you asked him

"Hey, Doc. Just doing a more thorough investigation" he said and you nodded

"I thought it was the gas line," Jeremy said adjusting his backpack on his back.

"Maybe" Thomas replied as he looked at where the explosion happened.

"Well I doubt they are being able to see anything, why don't you guys come back during the day?" you asked

"Because this isn't happening," he said and looked at you, his eyes looking deep into yours causing a shiver down your spine "get it?" you nodded

"Good luck with your non-investigation," you said and continued walking with Jeremy to his car

"Doc?" Thomas called you making you stop and look at him "how are you going to get home? Do you need a ride?"

"Um, no, I'll-" you started but were interrupted

"Yeah, she's taking the bus. I tried to convince her, but she just won't let me drive her home just because I live on the other side of town." Jeremy spoke quickly, lying without shaking a muscle on his face. You looked at him frowning not understanding "we know how dangerous it can be at night but she doesn't listen to me" he shrugged

"What are you doing?" you asked him in surprise and he smiled

"I can drop you off at home," he said and you shook your head

"It's not necessary," you said shaking your head

"I insist, you don’t live far from here," he said throwing his cigarette on the floor and walking toward you "let's go, it will be quick," he said walking past you and walking to his car

"I'm going to kill you," you said to Jeremy who smiled at you

"Use a condom," he said and winked

"What?" you laughed and he walked away leaving you in the middle of the dark parking lot. looking around you saw Thomas standing by the side of the car waiting for you with the passenger door open. You smiled embarrassed and got in the car

His car smelled new and probably cost more than your apartment.

You felt a little uncomfortable in his car, not sure what to do. he had turned on the car radio, keeping the volume down just to fill the awkward silence

"You don't think it was an accident?" you asked trying to make conversation

"It never is" he replied "not when I'm around" you nodded and went back to paying attention to the road "sorry about your car, ey"

"Oh, I don't mind. I mean, I do, but honestly, I'm sadder that the security guard who was driving died. He was a nice guy" you said sadly "if I had gone to take the car out of the way... well I don't even like to think about it" you shook your head

"What? What are you talking about?" he asked confused

"A few minutes before the explosion, the guard asked me to move the car out of the parking space because it was getting in the way of the work that was being done there. But I was too busy and I gave the key to him… He was a nice guy, always smiling" you explained "I don't know why, but I feel guilty "

"No reason, it wasn't your fault," he said and you nodded.

"I know" you nodded.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” he asked and you shook your head while laughing

“No” you laughed “I’ll just wash this day away and cuddle with Ozzy,” you told him

“Oh, Ozzy. Is he your boyfriend?” he asked and you frowned

“No” you smiled “he’s a cat. I have a cat” he nodded almost relieved to know

“You don’t look like a cat person,” he said

“Really? I am so hurt by that statement” you joked and he smiled “what about you, do you have any pets?”

“No, I am not a pet person,” he said “they are too high maintenance”

“Oh, Mister Shelby has no time for other things but himself, I assume” you teased

“My business takes much off my time already,” he said shrugging and you smiled

“That's sad,” you said mocking him

“As if you were any different. Look at the time you are leaving your work” he retorted making you smile

“I guess we are not that different, except I save people and you… well” you shrugged and he nodded quietly. You didn't have to finish your sentence, you both knew exactly what you meant.

"Thanks for the ride" you thanked him as he pulled up in front of your building.

"No problem," he said with a smile as you got out of the car “have a good night”.

“You too” you smiled and walked inside.

Later that night Thomas' men discovered the bomb in your car. The bomb was connected to the ignition. You just had to start the car and boom, it would explode.

He was already tired of this senseless war. But his enemies seemed to feed on it.

Who were his enemies? well, it was easier to ask who wasn't.

Right now he was at war with the Italian mafia. They were vying for territory, as the mafia wanted to get into Birmingham and other cities they had control over, like London. Tommy for years kept order in these cities, people think the crimes he committed were out of greed, but without the Peaky Blinders, chaos would ensue. the truth is that without them there was no order.

Several studies have already proven that when a power structure is lacking, a structure that gives order to society, as the police do, small other groups will grow and take on this responsibility upon themselves. This happens a lot in areas abandoned by the state, where the law does not apply. Where the rich aren't settled, where Tommy was born.

It wasn't easy to get where he was, but it was easy to do what he did. People who know the Peaky Blinders know that they do more for them than any politician with empty promises.

Of course, they worked out of fear and kept their power that way, but is that so different from what the police or religion does? you can't do anything they don't want you to or you're doomed to hell or a prison cell for years. At least Tommy gave a second chance to anyone who proved worthy.

He cared about who was with him, he protected whoever walked by his side. Building, thus, a feeling of union with each and every person favored by the Peaky Blinders, making people who weren't, want to be. One of his main rules being that civilians were always off-limits, no harm was to be done to them, ever.

Back to talking about the war with the mafia.

Many civilians had already paid the price. Starting first with the bomb implanted in one of his factories, killing many of his workers. After that, an attack on one of his main ports on the west coast destroyed several ships and took many lives as well. Not to mention the direct confrontations that went on in the dark and narrow streets of Birmingham.

They had been at war for almost two months now. Tommy knew that going forward was just backward. He would only get more and more violent. The mafia didn't care who they would hurt, they just wanted to prove that everything and everyone could be their victim, that they had the power and not Tommy.

To be honest with himself Tommy was afraid for everyone around him. He had a plan, he had to outsmart them, but for some reason, the Italians always seemed to be five steps ahead of him.

The beating he got from the Italians was just another example of how vulnerable he was. he needed to improve his game.

Sitting on the sofa in his living room, a glass of straight whiskey in his hand, he pondered what to do next. For some reason, out of everything that has happened so far, the fact that they put a bomb in your car is what pissed him off the most.

he wasn't sure why. But he cared about you and he didn't want you to be another victim of this war. perhaps the best thing would be for him to step away, and keep his distance from you. not give any more reason to the Italians.

He took out his cell phone and went to Instagram. He was not used to using Instagram, he had a personal account, but it was private. His company account on the other hand was public and had thousands of followers. Nowadays the one who took care of their social mídia was his younger brother, Finn. he knew about all these new technologies.

Putting your name in the search tab he found your Instagram, luckily it was not private. He looked photo by photo, learning so much of your life in a few minutes. Finding out who Ozzy was, seeing pictures of your family, and several pictures of you alone enjoying your life. Lots of bikini pictures, that made his cock pulse, he wanted you.

"Fucks sake" he muttered to himself tossing his cell phone onto the couch.

Taking a deep breath, he took his hand to his face and quickly picked his phone back and out of pure instinct sent you a message

"Hey, you up?" he texted and felt.

He instantly regretted 'you up?'? what the fuck Tommy. He was going to delete the message, but you had already seen it.

"Sorry. Who is this?" you texted

"Your favorite patient" he replied deciding to be a big boy and own up for his poor choice of message and you smiled involuntarily

"Ms. Flores? Why are you texting me?" you mocked

"ha ha”

“Yes, I am up. I can’t fall asleep even though I am drained” you texted

“I know what you mean, I can’t sleep either. Hey, I was wondering… mind if I stop by?” he asked taking you by surprise

“What? you were just here?”

“I know, but I need to tell you something. About your car”

“My car? what about it?”

“I am on my way” he stood up and walked out of his house in a rush.

“ok. I guess”

The intercom rang about 15 minutes later. You managed to change clothes and dress in something cozy, but that valued you at the same time. You had no idea what he wanted to talk to you about, but you felt a little excited about his presence in your house.

"Hi," you said opening the door for him.

"Hi" he smiled and walked in

"The house is a bit messy...Ozzy plays pranks when I'm away for a long time" you explained awkwardly

"It's not messy," he said and smiled

Your apartment was no big deal. It was small but very modern and organized. the kitchen and living room were integrated, there was a small laundry room, a guest toilet, a nice balcony that you filled with plants, and a suite. Tommy walked around the living room a bit, looking around.

"Want something to drink? I was drinking some wine before you arrived" you said looking around the kitchen, not sure if the wine was the kind of drink you should offer "I also have water, some teas, and orange juice?" you asked a little confused about what this visit was about.

"Wine is nice," he said and you nodded taking the bodle of wine that was sitting next to the sofa and served him a glass “What were you watching?” he asked seeing that you had paused something on the TV

“Oh, just some new Netflix show. It’s actually pretty intriguing. It’s about a Brazilian criminal and there are some rituals involved... well I don’t know yet I just watched the first episode. It’s called Santo” you said as you handed him the glass of wine

“Sounds good,” he said and you smiled "where is your cat?"

"Oh, Ozzy is not very friendly with strangers. So he's probably in hidding somewhere" you explained and he nodded "So... what did you want to tell me?" you asked sitting on the couch

He sat next to you and looked at you for a minute. He thought you looked different, people always look different at home and you… you looked so relaxed, so beautiful. All he wanted to do was get his hands all over you, he imagined himself on top of you right now, kissing you so desperately, pulling at your hair… making you moan his name.

“Tommy?” you asked again, taking him out of his daydream

“Right” he cleaned his throat “your car wasn’t an accident, y/n. I came here to ask you for something. First, you have to understand that I am in the middle of a heated relationship with a group of not very friendly men and I'm afraid they've put a target on you.”

“Why?” you asked not sure why you ended up in this situation

“They don't care about anything. They are targeting the people around me. All around. My family, my secretary, even my barber… they don’t really need a reason” he explained

“Oh…” you hummed sipping on your wine.

“Your car had a bomb in it”, he told you, and with that things got real, you felt scared “I came here to ask if you would mind having a man in front of the building. To take care of you"

"I wouldn't," you said and he nodded "actually I would appreciate it," you said and with that, you drank all the wine in your glass.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said and you chuckled

“I believe I do. You just told me people around you are dying for nothing and I fucking saved your life” you stood up, feeling agitated, and walked to the bottle of wine that was sitting on your kitchen balcony.

You didn't know how you were feeling. It felt like you had just received your mother's diagnosis all over again. You felt like losing control of your feelings, you couldn’t understand them at the moment. You took a deep breath, calming yourself.

Thomas got up and walked over to you. Stopping beside you he gently touched your arm.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make sure no one comes near you," he said and you frowned in confusion.

"Why?" you asked looking at him "why are you here? Why do you bother if they come for me or not? Did you do this to your barber?" you questioned him, a bit of anger and mockery in your voice

His touch on your arm became firmer and with that, he pulled you close to him

"No I didn't," he said, his face inches from yours.

He looked at you with his baby blue eyes, his eyes held so much desire that he was able to make your core burn. He set the glass down on the counter freeing his hand so he could gently cup your chin and direct you for a kiss. You didn't move, you felt trapped in a spell like he was now all that mattered. You allowed him to bring his face close to yours so slowly, allowing you time to deny it if you wanted to. But you wanted him, there was no denying it.

When his lips touched yours you felt like you were melting. His wet and warm lips felt so right on yours, so relaxed so gentle… you felt like you could make this your home forever. The kiss was slow and hard at the same time, you could feel he wanted you. His lips felt so comfortable on yours as if you had kissed before, many times before. And the way your tongue danced with his felt so incredibly exciting.

His hands roamed over your lower back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest.

You held on to his neck, not allowing much distance between the two of you, as you stroked your hand down his neck and his short hair at the sides.

You drew back a little to catch your breath as he moved down to your neck and kissed you slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of his lip. One of his hands held tightly behind your neck as the other began to explore your firm breasts through your blouse.

You let a shy moan escape your lips at the delicious sensation of his touch. Stepping forward he pinned you against the kitchen counter.

Enhancing the effect of his kiss on you, he trailed his teeth gently over the skin of your neck before returning to kiss your lips.

His hands went to your hips, where he squeezed and stroked hard before pulling you up, making you sit on the counter, positioning himself between your legs.

Now he was kissing you so voraciously, so desperately... and so were you. Both were desperate for each other, so drunk on the feeling.

but were interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone, your cell phone.

"I'm sorry," you said almost in a whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

"Don't worry, you can answer it later, eh?" he said and kissed you, but you couldn't

"No, I need to answer," you said pushing him gently back, and then you got down from the counter.

You didn't know who it was, but your phone was a sacred thing. when it wasn't the hospital calling to say they needed you, it was a patient or your mother.

Taking your cell phone you swallowed hard seeing that it was your brother who was calling you. Answering the phone, he said “hey sis, are you on a shift? we’re taking mom in right now”. he didn't explain much else, he said she was fine, but she needed stitches.

You rushed to your bedroom to get your bag and went back to the living room.

"I'm sorry, I really, really wanted to continue this, but I can't. My mother she... she needs me" you said approaching him and leaving a peck on his inviting lips.

"She needs you at one o'clock in the morning?" he asked confused and you nodded

"She has Alzheimer's. It's hard, she constantly needs me or one of my siblings. Just now she did something and my brother is taking her to the hospital" you explained and with that, he nodded and offered to drop you off at the hospital.

As soon as you arrived you ran inside, but before you thanked Thomas for the ride and kissed him goodbye. He had asked if you wanted him to wait for you, but you denied it, saying your brother would drop you off at home.

Arriving at your mother's room, she smiled when she saw you. She still recognized you and that made you very happy. She still recognized all of her children, but the rest of the people in her life, none. There were days when she forgot about you, and also your siblings, but they were not frequent, yet.

"Hi, Mom. How are you?" you asked approaching her

"Hi my sweet girl, I’m well," she said smiling as if nothing had just happened. You talked to her for a few minutes asking about her life and gossiping, trying to make her feel comfortable. She always gossiped about the same things, it all felt like news to her, but it was always the same to you and yet, you always acted surprised every time she told you.

In the end, everything was fine, she had just cut herself with the knife while trying to open a jar of olives. the doctors decided to use this moment and gave her a checkup.

Unfortunately, these types of events were getting more and more recurrent, just last week she had a fall while she tried to hang a painting up. You had already told your brother and sister that the best thing for her would be to put her in a proper establishment, but they called you insensitive and cruel.

The truth was that no one had the condition of life to dedicate themselves 100% to her care and accidents like this were going to keep happening. But you didn't want to argue any more, you did what you could, helped in what you could.

She was discharged a few minutes after they finished stitching her hand. And your brother dropped you at home.

As you arrived you texted Tommy, telling him you were safe at home. Not sure why you did it.

Now you were so tired that you went straight to bed, taking a quick shower first. Your conscience wouldn't allow you to come from the hospital and not take a shower, there are so many bacteria and virus in that place...

As you lay in bed you wondered about what had happened today. You had to say no to one of the best kisses of your life, but you had no regrets at all. Tommy and you would meet at another time and besides, your mother is your priority.

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

decalcomania | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You're well aware you write too many songs about him, but they just sit in your drafts folder and never see the world. Until Min Yoongi double-clicks on the folder and starts listening to them, that is.

warnings: idol!AU - producer!reader; angst that has no resolution

“you'll get used to it not seeing them, not being there” but I never will because you'll always be everywhere

❖

"What's this?"

"My drafts folder. It's just full of shit I'm never gonna release."

"Ho."

You racked your brain and tapped your pen against the edge of the table, searching for the words. That was always what you focused most on when it came to song creation – lyrics. Every song had a feel to it, and you selected words based on that feel, sometimes pretty words, sometimes clever, sometimes simple, sometimes complicated, but, most importantly, it had to be the right word for the right moment. That kind of thing you wouldn’t know it was perfect until you found it. You weren’t worried though. It would come to you. It always did.

You trusted your intuition.

"Hm."

At least in songwriting.

"They're all about him."

Your pen stilled.

"You said you don’t write love songs anymore."

You didn't look up from your pad of paper. Staring at your scribbles.

"I don't."

You raised your head, not quite looking at your fellow producer.

"I can't. They always end up being about him."

Your eyes shifted and you saw your fellow producer lower the headset, shaking out his now blond hair. It was a little frizzy, too over-processed despite the expensive hair products. Sometimes he complained that he was going to go bald from the stress, the work, and the constant hair treatments.

It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

All jokes had some truth to them though.

"Is that why you started distancing yourself from writing for pop groups?" Min Yoongi asked, sitting back in your comfy computer chair.

You didn't answer.

You just exhaled slowly and shrugged.

Yoongi mused, placing his elbow on the desk and humming, looking back to your multiple monitors. "Did you hear his newest cover of the Harry Styles song?"

You leaned your head back against the sofa.

"I heard it."

Silence except the computers and other electronics. You were a fiend for RBG lighting and spent far too much time installing an obscene plethora of them in your music studio, making sure they all connected, of course, so you could work by shimmering rainbows rather than the harsh overhead recessed lights. At least you managed to convince your boss that cool white light was superior to those heinous warm bulbs. Yoongi's face was shrouded in blue and purple light when he spoke again.

"You think he has a folder too, full of songs he writes about you?"

You tapped your pen on the paper.

"I doubt it. He's too busy for that."

"Part of our job is to write songs, so he’s not too busy to write songs."

You tucked your tongue into your cheek. "You don't have to console me. It's time I act my age. You are always telling your hyung that."

Yoongi chuckled. "He was born in the wrong generation. Too early."

"And you were born too late, grandpa."

He clicked his tongue, disapproving of your comment.

Silence.

You didn't think about your drafts folder much. You made them, knew you weren't going to use them, and dumped them in that folder.

Maybe.

Maybe, someday, you could dig them up again and complete them.

Someday, when you could walk down that mental path with confidence, but, for right now, it was a path full of broken glass and you didn't have any shoes, so you could only stumble down there when you were too drunk and too numb to feel.

"They're good, you know."

"Hm."

"He would like them if he listened to them."

"He likes that stuff from what I gather."

"Maybe he's waiting for you to release one."

"That's highly unlikely considering I have no vocal training and my singing voice is hot garbage," you muttered, giving up on the pad of paper, flipping the pages back. "You can sing better than I can."

There was another thing too.

You couldn't sing those songs without feeling.

And you were trying so very hard not to feel.

"I should leave you to the lyrics."

Yoongi stood up, rubbing the back of his head.

"You're always good when it's the exciting songs," he said with a smile. "I'm sure you'll come up with something good."

You smiled back. "Hm, probably. Just give me a bit."

He shuffled for a few steps. You turned back to the paper pad, opening it with a sigh.

"We're always better at writing songs that reflect our inner selves."

You picked up your pen, pausing at Yoongi's words.

"They are like moments in time, preserving the you of that moment."

You looked up and Yoongi was at the entrance of your music studio, picking up his coat and beanie. He turned around and pulled up his white face mask. Those dark, cat-like eyes peeked out from below the beanie as he adjusted it.

You didn't say anything.

You couldn't see your face, but Yoongi could.

"I can’t get used to him not being around, because he’s always around," you whispered quietly, not sure if you were telling him or yourself, but too afraid to be loud because then it would be real. You could only see his eyes.

His gaze softened.

"Yeah, I know."

He opened the door and left.

You knew he saw.

You knew he saw that the first was created a little over a year ago.

You knew he saw the one dated October 29, 2021.

The draft folder Yoongi was talking about had song files named by the dates they were created and therefore they were in order of oldest at the top to newest at the very end. Only a few people hearing those drafts would know who those songs were about, because almost no one knew what happened. For work reasons, for privacy reasons, and for reasons like this.

When lovers became strangers again.

You used to daydream and hope that he did write songs about you after everything, but now you wished he didn't. Maybe if he pretended it never happened, it didn’t, and then you could forget about it and write cheesy love songs again instead of love songs that meant too much and cut too deep.

Maybe.

Your fingers touched the paper pad and slowly flicked through the pages. It was full of scribbles and pieces of lyrics. Some of them had made it into songs, some didn't. Some got crossed out immediately and some made it into recording, only for those to be shelved away in a folder, tucked into your external hard drives.

You kept everything.

Maybe to your detriment. You couldn't help it though. Sentimental, hoarder, something like that. A tendency to hold onto things for too long. Probably manifested in the habit of writing too many songs about the same damn topic for too damn long. Yoongi must have seen the one dated recently, must have listened to it. He saw how you felt, back then with his eyes and, now, with his ears.

The sound of turning pages abruptly stopped.

You sighed and placed your pen over the words, not wanting to look at them, but, as you closed your eyes, you could remember the night that you wrote those words clearly, even the small details like the thick, hazy dread filling your soul and the tightness of your chest, the three-in-the-morning world smelling like alcohol, whiskey glass shoved aside, bottle open beside you, fiddling with the pop filter and the microphone in front of your lips, headphones suffocating your head that felt like it was going to burst.

Thinking about that song snippet his fans always ask him about, curious on where the complete song is, the nonchalant reply you replayed in your head, over and over, "Oh, I can just re-record it."

You knew he knew where the file was.

❖

you said you deleted it, lost it, haven't seen it in a while but here it is, in this studio with your audiophile.

references to falling cover by JK and decalcomania by JK

the italics are not actual lyrics, I made them up for story purposes XD I can't make music to save my life, so don't roast me ㅠㅠ

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader

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goofyhoffy · 3 years ago

Text

known stranger |jjk|

CHAPTER II

people say your bestfriend's rival is your rival too. But what if you fall for your rival.

✿ Pairing : Jungkook × female reader, Jimin × best friend reader

✿ Genre : enemies to lovers, stranger au, personal assistant au, manager au, mutual au.

✿ Summary : always seen him around your mutual friend, but one day you noticed the known face. Everyone find you so interesting that they always want to be your best friend, yet you never find anyone close to your heart. Jimin your so called bestfriend gone through the worse break up but instead of caring him you fall for his rival. You never thought of liking someone who would beat your bestfriend, but you fall for Jungkook there. Unfortunately, Jungkook became your personal assistant who hated you the most for supporting Jimin. What if Jungkook also wants you back?

✿ warnings : fluff, strong languages, reader is a psychopath, angst, anxiety, anxiousness, double faced, bullying, overthinking, mean people, Jimin here is the meanest, ignoring, explicit, smut, fake friends, manager and personal assistant au, mutual friend, swearing, filled with flirty lines, rival, lovey dovey, break up, makeout, humiliation, oneshot, texting.

✿ Series : a drabble of 3 sets

MASTERLIST

✿ Author's note : sorry for the late update! But here it is. Lately I have been writing a bunch of Fanfiction. UPDATE: I'll be posting a Yoongi's oneshot soon, so stay tuned.

(◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。 (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。 (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

"I think he's doing quite well. He become more reliable and accurate in his work. Now, I think you could direct him." You said to your boss. He was asking you if Jungkook was working efficiently or not. He also asked if you need his help anymore. But you already cleared that he's good to go now. You don't need his help.

"Are you sure? You don't want him as your personal assistant anymore." Your boss asked.

You nodded and said "absolutely your son has become more focused and mature now. He can start his own career now."

"Umm, some serious talk is going on?" Someone intreuppted in the middle and as expected it's Jeon Jungkook.

"Come here. Just talking about you, son." Your boss hugged him.

"Woah! About me?" He smirked at you. But you just rolled your eyes.

"_____(y/n) said that you don't need to work here anymore. Now, you can start up." Your boss proudly said. But hearing those words the smile from Jungkook's face vanished.

"No. Never. I still want to work here, dad." Jungkook sighed

"Boss, I think Mr. Jeon is now capable of doing something of his own. I also don't need personal assistant anymore." You smiled.

"But I want you." Jungkook shouted.

"I-i mean, I still want to learn things from you. You can't abandon me this easy." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"I didn't said anything even though you were ignoring me all these days. I stayed calm for you to process. But now, you're just withdrawing me." Jungkook sighed.

"Everything is good kook? You're so tensed because of this job?" Your boss asked him.

"Dad, I want to work here for more time. Please now let me do." Jungkook said.

"But I don't want any personal assistant anymore. Boss you can promote Jungkook to financial department." You asked.

"No, ___(y/n). Can't you hear me. I want to work with you dude." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Kook, it's okay. You'll work here with ____(y/n) as long as you want." Your boss said and left your work place.

As your boss left the bright atmosphere turns to dark gloomy venue. You can't process how badly Jungkook just begged to work with you. He just want you. Only you. You also want him more than he does. You both were silently sitting facing each other looking at eachother. It's a tensed situation but you feel like laughing at Jungkook's baby face.

"You're so annoying!" Jungkook sighed.

"Don't roll your eyes on me, for God sake." He said.

"Okay." You smiled.

"Dude, speak something. I can't with you. What's happened? Why are you doing this to me? Is something wrong? Tell me. Please." Jungkook innocently begged.

That time you want to tell everything you witnessed at his text with Seokjin and the worst words he told you about Jimin and your relation. His words 'I'll fuck a pig than you' was kept reminding. But the way he was asking with his baby face, you can't deny but you fall for him. You missed him in these days more than he does. His cute flirting, little caring and everything he does was so pure in your eyes.

"I'll fuck a pig than y/n. Ew" you sang smilingly. But internally you were burning at the words.

"What?" Jungkook asked.

"You don't want to fuck me right? You better fuck a pig then?" You sarcastically smiled.

"What are you talking about? Tell me clearly." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"Sorry but I checked your phone. And there I saw what you told Seokjin about me. And this lines you told him. Isn't I'm right?" Your smiling face turns to a serious frown now. You're dead serious about this. Even past these days, only this line stuck to your head and gives you enough anxiety that you can't focussed on anything.

"You did what? I-I'm sorry. So so sorry. It's not what you think it's." Jungkook stumbled.

"You don't need to explain Jungkook. I get it, your friends hate me because of supporting Jimin. And I also know what you think of me. Just don't be a double faced person." You sighed.

"No, it's not like that. You're really a great person ____. It's just they talk shit about you because of being Jimin's bestfriend." Jungkook said.

"And you also talk shit about me. Isn't it?" You asked

"I really like you. Really. And I mean it." Jungkook innocently said.

"You're unknowingly attractive. I don't know, but you're way too sassy and sweet. I always tried to hate you but I just can't. I like you." Jungkook sighed

"Jungkook this sugarcoating words are far from my knowledge." You said.

"I told you enough that I didn't mean it. I'm sorry for what I did. But you're way too annoying."

"And you know what, your annoyance is the only thing I like." Jungkook smirked.

"Whatever Jungkook. Don't be double faced." You said

"I'm definitely not, but listen. " Jungkook arrogantly said.

◉

It's been the end of the month to work with Jungkook. He was always been on and off with you. Before you were ignoring him and now he was ignoring you. Just the way. And you end up ignoring eachother. But the end of the month there were many work to be done in hotel.

Initially it was planned that for two days there will be an organisation presented at the hotel you work that. There were many work lods too. Jungkook as well as you were working real hard in your cold war phase. You geniunely want to apologize to him but this work never leave both of you alone. Even if you asked him to talk to you he just passed it for later.

"Being the management department ____(y/n) you have to do night shift here. We'll provide you efficient room so you can better organized it without any interpretation." Your boss said

"Sure boss. Will Jungkook also be there doing the night shift?" You asked.

"Yeah. As he's your assistant he have to. And also for two days you'll hault here at night too. I'll arrange two rooms for you and Jungkook." Your boss said.

You sighed at it. This whole month was so distrubing for you firstly because of Jungkook and then so much of work and other thing. You were also can't proceed in your book series so far. You want to take rest. You taught everything to Jungkook what he have to do in this two days. Basically the night hault always been fun for you as you get free stuff from the hotel and get a luxurious bed to drift to sleep. So, at last all your work goes great.

"My room is beside yours incase you need something." Jungkook said.

"I want to talk to you." You asked.

"I'm tired rightnow. Can we talk later." Jungkook left.

"You always say the same Jungkook." You looked at him.

"Guess who started." He winked at you and close his door.

He was more annoying than you. His little things only drives you crazy. That day you and Jungkook did a great job. Everyone praised you both. You were so happy. Jungkook was so happy and blessed because of you. But the thing was the hotel was full and there was not a single room left for Jungkook as extra guest appeared at the last minute.

Someone knocked at your room at the night when you were going for your bed. You opened and it was Jungkook, you know that he'll come to you at last. He entered in your room and sit at the couch.

"I don't have anywhere to sleep." Jungkook blantly said.

"I guess I already know. I thought you'd go to home." You said.

"That's nice idea. I should go then." Jungkook asked.

"No need to. We can share my room." You rolled your eyes.

"I need to sleep." Jungkook asked.

"There is the bed, sleep." You sarcastically said.

"And you?" Jungkook asked

"I guess, we have only one bed. We willl share."

"It's okay, I'll sleep in the couch or something."

"Jungkook no need to make this a big deal. We can share it."

"For you everything is small deal. Even someone's emotions."

"Don't start again. You can take the left side of the bed, right side is always mine."

"But I can't stop myself from touching you."

"We have big pillows too, Jungkook. I'll pile up those between us. If you can calm yourself than probably we can sleep."

"Okay, I'll try."

"You have to kook."

As you made your bed and pile up the pillows between two of you. And you take the right side of the bed but he was still sitting at the couch thinking deeply if he should sleep at the bed or not.

"Come here, I'll make sure that nothing between us happens." You shouted at him. As he sleeps beside you calmly you can feel him beside you. His cologne, his essence and everything. There pitch dark in the room with the dread silence between you two. You were sure that he was not asleep as he was not snoring. But you want to look at him and tell him how much you missed him, how much his annoying ego you hated and how much you want to see him closely and kiss him immensely.

"Umm... You want to talk to something, you said." Jungkook asked. You move to face to face with him. He was already turned to your side. You never have seen him this closely. His looks makes you want him more. His deep voice in silence wage turns you on. You delicately want to touch him and apologize for your mistake. You want to tell him how much your liking turn to loving now.

"Nothing, good night." You said.

"I'm not at your bed to sleep, ____(y/n)."

"Huh?"

"I told you I like you. You didn't say anything after that."

"I also do like you. You're a great assistant Jungkook."

"You're so annoying. You know I didn't mean that. It was a mistake."

You didn't replied anything, the whole dark silence again reappears. It's just you and Jungkook and the dark light. In the dark too you can see his crystal skin with the eyes on you. You both were looking at each other. You both want to eat eachother but both of you were waiting for each other to make a move. But none of you were moving. Just two open eyes and close heart.

"I know you want me." Jungkook sighed

"Yeah kook. I want you but I don't want you to give myself." You hummed. It's more like moan for Jungkook. Your sleepy voice was like music to his hears.

"You're sleepy?" He asked.

"No, not. We can continue seeing eachother like this. It's feel good." You said.

"Don't say such things. I would kiss you, ____" he sighed.

"Who's stopping you. Kiss me if you want." You smiled.

"Your words drive me crazy _____" Jungkook said as he put the pillows between you out. Now, it's only you and him in the big cozy bed. As soon as he put the pillows aside you turn over to the lamp side.

"Ahhh! And your actions just boil my blood. You said I can kiss you." Jungkook whined.

"You can but it's my work to not make it happen. You only said " you chuckled.

He started whining but you're giggling inside that how much he need you. He want your lips, your words and you. His everything was internally driving him crazy. He looks at your ass as you tried to fix your shirt. He move towards you more nearer leaving zero gap. You can feel his chest from back. His wide strong chest is hitting your back. He put his face at the crook of your neck. He was smiling your milk bathed hair.

"Kook, you're too close." You silencely said.

"Can I hug you? Only hug." He asked and you nodded a yes. He put you in a embrace, his big hands surrounds your whole small waist and he was busy kissing your back of neck. His everything is attractive. The way he was grabbing your waist and pulling you closer and closer untill your ass hits his crotch area. You hummed when he circled in your stomach. He was gently caressing your stomach with his bare hand. His cold hands feels so good to you. You want more of him.

"You smell so good." He said. You just hummed at his response.

Everything was done by him but to contribute your part you glided your ass in his crotch area. You deliberately moved your ass to know him that you also wanted him. It was a teasing for him. You slowly loving how in the dark room one was totally ingrossed in someone. His fingers get inside of your shirt and he teasingly caressing it untill it touched the verge of the breast. As he stroke at the hum of your breasts you moved your ass a little more in his crotch area.

"Don't move like that." He seductively said

"Huh." You hummed and keep on moving like that.

"Fuck. I'm hard _____." Jungkook moaned under his breath.

He gently slide his finger inside your gown. It's felt good but in the mid way you grabbed his hands.

"You said we'll not." You said.

"Please ___(y/n) fuck me." Jungkook pleased

"But -"

"Fuck me dude." He asked as he sit up in the bed looking seductively towards your body. You knew that he was eyeing each and every curve of your but you liked it, you wanted it.

The soft velvety night gown which you were was perfect to seduce him. You deliberately wore that. As out of his patience he pressed your hands and lift you up. His veiny hand was enough to pull you on his lap. You were sitting on his lap, he carefully looked at your long beautiful hair bangs falling on your face then he softy looked in your eyes. Your eyes met. The silence was vanished in the room. It was covered with some heavy breathing hums you and Jungkook did. His pale red lips were bit by him. It was like he was screaming to kiss him. But you were a big tease. You also get melted with his little smirk. He came closer to you, your cheeks got ridden to feel him.

"Jungkook-" you hummed.

"Now move like that. Made me yours" Jungkook whispered while his hand grinding on your ass and the other one caressing your lips. His mouth working great on your ear. He softy biting your ear lobes which make you whined. You want him more than anything that time. Jungkook was a big tease than you and you accepted that. His actions makes your thighs squeezed which makes your ass grind at his crotch area more and more. You were moaning without caring anything.

"Yeah..just like that, I'll fuck you like the last person existed in this damn planet." Jungkook sighed while planting a deep kiss in your lips. You felt him, his lips, his hands on your ass, his body across you and his dirty words. He deepens the kiss pulling you closer by your waist more. He want to immersed inside you. You can't handle his rage but kiss back the way he did. Messy, sloppy and filled with lust.

"I want you, kook. Make me your little whore." You hummed at his words. At your words he hover over you. Patiencelessly undressed your soft night gown. He was not surprised to see you without a bra. He already knew it when he hugged you earlier. Beautiful view before him. You were like the most sweetest desert before him. He can't wait to tear your panties up. Without any second his mouth was on your nipples. He was sucking the left boob while pumping the right boobs. The soft skin of yours feel so good to him. Kisses all over your torso which turns to red marks with no times. You were just lying there and geeting all the pleasure and moaning. His kisses goes down to the hem of your panties. He bit his lips and looked at your shy face.

"Is I'm allowed to your cute little pussy, Manager_______" Jungkook smirkingly said.

"What did I say? I'm your whore, Mr. Jungkook." You sighed.

"Then ready to take my fat big cock inside you, babe." Jungkook hummed. He tore your panties and licked the liquid out of your cunt. It's taste sweet he feels. He was doing a great job with his tounge. Every lick made you roll your eyes. You never thought he feels this good. You didn't regretted to take a step ahead to fuck him or more generously he fucked you beautifully.

"Jungkook fuck me, FUCK ME, now." You shouted seductively.

"Call me Daddy first you whore. You don't need to beg, Daddy will fuck you hard." Jungkook smirked. He slowly unzipped his pants and his huge fat cock sprung up to his waist. He looked at you but you were already looking at his delicious mate. You can't wait to let him inside.

"Da-ah-ddy" you moaned as he put his dick inside you. His big dick took zero time to place inside you. He thrusted inside you slowly and calmly. His each clap to your hip joint made you remind the stars. Your wet pussy wants more of him. His hips were doing a great job. Your waist was being pulled by him for steady and deep going. Your thighs were already trembling to sense his hands and his thrust. You promised of being his whore and you proudly become that.

"Fuck! Want you more." Jungkook moaned at your ears which make you tremble more and more. We was not stopping neither were you. You both wanted everything about each other. As he thrusted your g-spot you felt relieved and tranquil. He gasped and lay back at his place. You were lying next to him. For few minutes, the dark room was nothing but full of panting and moaning.

"You're amazing,_____" Jungkook said.

"Jungkook, sorry for the things I did to you." You nervously said.

"_____(y/n) forget all the things. Thanks, I never ever fucked anyone like this." Jungkook smirked.

"I already confessed to you. But I'm again gonna repeat. I like you." Jungkook looked at your eyes.

"Let me confessed to you too. I also liked you from very first. Maybe from the time you even didn't knew I existed." You confessed your feelings but you didn't regretted it.

"I knew it. The way you looked at me, I knew you like me too." Jungkook sighed as he turn towards you. He gently took your hands and put it on his chest. You smiled at him like he was the angel and not the person you just fucked.

"Should we date?" Jungkook asked with a big smile on his face.

"What if I say no?" You smiled back at him.

His precious little smile falls apart. He yet haven't seen the inside of you. You want him to apologize about everything he does to you.

(◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。 (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。 (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

TAGS : @mellie1409 @pariyansha @alienatedkitten @chans-baby-girl @mwitsmejk @hello-stranger24 (sry the tags are not working)

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

Text

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 7

You did not, in fact, spend the night in the lovely room Zemo had made up for you. No, you had spent it with him. You woke up with his arm around you. He greeted you with a smile as you turned over to look at him. Then he kisses your forehead before pulling you into his chest.

Last night was amazing. Eventually you stopped making out outside his locker room and he got changed. You went out on your date, as he promised he would do. He took you to a reply nice bar. You both stayed there for hours, drinking and chatting.

You had to get a cab back to his house, neither of you fit to drive. It was good fun though.

You smiled softly. He was so warm.

"Good morning," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. His voice is all deep and thick from sleep. It makes his accent all the more pronounced... and sexy.

"Good morning."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. Right now, in this very moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive.

"My handsome pro racer," you mutter, fingers caressing his jaw softly. He leans into your touch ever so slightly, the softest smile tugging at his lips.

"Your handsome pro racer?" He asks, still whispering.

"I think we're at that stage, no?"

He chuckles again, pulling you in to kiss you properly. You fit against him perfectly. Everything in this moment perfect, serene, and as it should be.

"Do I get breakfast?" You asks, cheeky grin on your face.

"Yes. I'll cook for you."

You kiss him once more before he slides out of bed and puts some clothes on. You laugh as he dresses. You had quite the night last night.

You stay in bed a little longer before you get up. You feel so at home here. Eventually you just miss him and get up. You grab some clothes, go into the bathroom, and get ready.

Zemo cooks up a delicious breakfast for you both. He serves it with some tea. He smiles as you enter the room, looking just as amazing as always.

"Breakfast is served."

You sit down with a smile and tuck in. It just feels so domestic and homey having breakfast with Helmut. As you sat there eating what he had made for you, a thought comes to mind.

Is this the start of something incredible?

You had hope that was the case. You didn't think you could go back to your lifestyle after being a part of his. This was where you wanted to be, you were sure of it.

"I'm going to hand in my notice soon," you say, glancing up at him.

The smile on his face was one of the most wonderful sights you has ever seen.

"I'll have things organised for you when you're ready to take over as my manager."

You grin.

"I have a lot to learn, but I won't let you down. We're a team now."

"Yes, we are."

After breakfast, you help clean up, you jump in the shower, and then you grab your phone. You give your boss a ring and alert him of what you wanted to do. When he asked why you were leaving, you told him about the offer you had received, trying to sound as casual about it as possible.

He freaked out when he heard you were going into the racing industry. After all, he was a fan of Zemo.

Everything felt like it was working out and coming together.

You hung up and turned to Zemo who had been waiting for you. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back, grinning.

"Well?" Though he didn't really have to ask.

"It's a done deal. He wants me to do one more shift, so he can give me a proper farewell, but then I'm all yours!"

He kisses you.

He had never felt this happy before. He held you to him, burying his nose into the crook of your neck. It was here as he hugged you that he felt like he could do anything. He just needed to win these next two races.

Your phone rang.

You sighed as you pulled away from Zemo, giving him a sad smile as you went to pick it up. Zemo leaves so you can have some privacy, already missing you.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?"

It was 'your friend.'

"What can I do for you?" You ask, keeping your guard up. After her little tantrum, you didn't exactly trust her any more.

"We need to talk."

"Do we?" You keep your voice curt and clipped.

"Yes. There is something you need to know. I could tell you over the phone, but I think it's best we talk in person. You may not believe me if we don't, and I have evidence."

"What are you going on about?"

"Your boyfriend isn't being honest with you."

"My boyfriend? What about yours?" You ask, sharply. "What was all that shit you pulled at the race?"

"What? Jealous because he loves me?"

"No. What have I got to be jealous of?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you. Meet me at The Alpine bar tonight. Come alone."

She hangs up.

You stare at your phone, glaring at it.

No longer hearing your voice, Zemo returns. He sees you looking at your phone.

"Something the matter?"

You look up at him quickly.

"Uh, a certain someone wants to meet with me."

Zemo comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You lean back into his chest and sigh.

"What does she want?"

"I don't know. She wants to meet me at The Alpine bar."

"That's in town. I'll drop you off if you would like."

"Alright. She wants to meet tonight."

He turns you around so he can look at you. Softly, he caresses your cheek with the back of his long fingers. You lean into his touch the same way he did to you this morning.

"Something is troubling you."

"She troubles me."

He kisses your forehead lightly. A great sense of pride and achievement washes over him. He can do this whenever he wants. You have given him the permission he needed. His lips longer there.

"Whatever it is, we can deal with it."

You nod subtly.

He steps back and look at you, smiling handsomely at you.

"I have an idea."

"Hm?"

"I want to show you something. Grab some shoes and your jacket, we are going out," he says, leaving your side in favour of finding his coat.

You do as he said and wait for him by the door.

Zemo returns to your side wearing a long dark coat, fur embedded at the collar. So extra, yet so him.

He grabs your hand as you leave the house.

Zemo keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you away from the house. You walk together toward a huge garage sitting up ahead from his house. You hadn't noticed it yesterday as you were blown away by the house itself.

You had a pretty good idea on what was in there. You smile at him as you approach the building.

Zemo has you stop stop at the large double doors. You grin excitedly at him as he unlocks the doors. He winks at you before pulling the door open.

The lights turn on as he flicks a switch off to the side and before you is a beautiful sight. Dozens and dozens of cars. All kinds of makes and models. Lots of different colours. Many of them were in perfect condition. There were a few really old ones that had early seen better days, but still looked amazing. They were all lined up in rows.

"Wow."

Zemo watches as you approach the first set of cars in front of you. You look at them in awe. Glancing behind you, he nods at you. You walk along the line.

"They're all yours?"

"Every single one. Passed down through generations of my family," he says, looking at them with nostalgia.

"Helmut, this is so cool!" You touch one carefully. This feels like such a special and important moment. This is a peek at another part of his life. Looking around, you spot a few familiar cars, ones he has picked you up in before.

"That reminds me, you'll need to get your car from the bar."

"Ah yes, we took a cab home, didn't we? I'll sort that out tonight while you meet with... you know."

You nod and walk along some more.

You took secret glanced at the man following you around his collection. You trusted him. You did! Yet, there was something settling in the back of your mind. A nagging feeling that whatever it was she was going to tell you, was bad.

She spoke about him as if he had some dark secret to hide. You worried that this wasn't some little misdeed just because she was upset with you.

You couldn't ask him, could you?

Maybe it was best to see what she had to say before bringing anything up.

Zemo came to stand beside you, arm snaking around you. You were standing in front of the first car he had picked you up in, the convertible.

"It was in this car fate decided to bring us together," he says, trying to make it sound as cheesy as he could.

"How sappy." You roll you eyes.

He kisses your cheek.

"It's true, no?"

You turn your head to smile and kiss him properly.

"Yeah, it's true."

Negative thoughts melt into nothing when he has you like this. He's safe and warm. He's home. Your home. He could be.

"Shall we drive?"

You nod.

"Pick a car. Your choice," he whispers.

You smile as you turn around and look at the collection. One if the back catches your eye. It's purple. His colour.

"That one."

He says nothing as he walks over to the back, opens a cabinet on the back wall, plucks a key from within, and then beckons you over.

"Let's go."

You're grinning as you climb in the car. You'll worry about the meet up later. For now, you wanted to feel free again with Zemo.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420

#zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #AU

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 17

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: Feelings! PTSD! Anxiety! Clint! Team bonding! Reader is a badass 😍 And comic book medical accuracy .

Un-beta-ed.

"It smells like a liquor factory in here," Bucky's voice came from the kitchenside, followed by noises of the team's arrival. Via portal, because the elevator made zero noise.

"I suggest you avoid the area around me and Clint. It might be contaminated." My voice sounded sharp to my own ears. I sat in silence for several hours, waiting for the team's return, while Clint restlessly dozed next to me.

My words caused the team to freeze in their tracks, owlishly blinking at me and at Clint laying sprawled on the floor, surrounded by plastic bags and biological hazard containment units. Tony's helmet swiftly covered his face - I heard muffled sounds coming from within, probably Friday's explanations. In seconds, the helmet retracted, showing an extremely worried Tony.

"How do you feel, Princess? Any weakness, any pain?"

"No symptoms, Tony. Just a fuckton of anxiety," I admitted, avoiding the concerned looks of Tony's teammates. "I almost drowned the room in alcohol but warned you just to be safe. Also, your alien pathogen protocol sucks."

"We made it so unauthorized personnel wouldn't get their hands on Thor's or Loki's blood samples," Bruce supplied meekly from where he was leaning against Steve, wearing a tattered hoodie and his hulk-out pants. "Off to decon we go," The scientist sighed. "Friday, code seven-zero-three-five-five. Pull up the data you gathered. In the shower." The man was exhausted, yet the call of science seemed to give Bruce a tiny energy boost. With newfound determination, he waddled to the communal showers, the rest of the team in tow.

Natasha's stare was truly unnerving. I was fully aware she and Barton had long history; the fact that I had to respond to one of the deadliest assassins if I had made even the slightest mistake - anxiety mixed with blind terror in me. I fought the nausea and the headache, focusing on Clint's hair between my fingers. His steady breathing.

He'd be okay. He had to be okay.

"You did great, Princess," The time passed in a blink. Bruce's warm hands were encompassing mine - gently pulling me away from Clint. I looked at Banner's face with unseeing eyes.

"I heard what Friday said and I can only applaud your quick thinking. You saved his life," Strange, sounding uncharacteristically quiet and bashful, parroted Bruce, hovering behind the scientist. His angular face was contorted in sorrow. "I believe I should apologize for dropping Barton onto you like that. I underestimated the extent of his injuries." The man sounded so, so guilty.

"I saved his life," I repeated in disbelief. Surely they were exaggerating.

"You did, malysh. For that, I am grateful," Natasha's hand found my own, squeezing briefly, before following Steve that had picked up a still-sleeping Clint, to, presumably, carry him to medical. "Come on, Banner, we need you."

Banner gave me a brief squeeze of his own, taking his leave, scurrying after Romanoff. I was left awkwardly standing in front of Strange, both of us disheveled and dazed.

"I ordered pizza," I said, just to fill the grim silence.

"Okay," Just like that, he snapped out of his trance, sitting down on the couch and picking up his food.

The others trickled in, Bucky, Pete, Thor, Loki, Sam, Wanda, Pietro. I saw it all like it was tinted by a thick fog. Their words made a jumbled cacophony when they reached my ears. Tony's arm around me - that woke me up, slightly. I focused on my favourite thing in the world - the faint smell of him, a mix of soap, machine oil and expensive cologne.

"She's shellshocked," Bucky suddenly said, pointing at me.

"No," I frowned. "No. I may be a fumbling idiot but I don't have PTSD."

Tony's breath stuttered in his chest. Promptly, I was turned around, a pair of intelligent brown orbs sharply gazing into my eyes. "Princess?"

"I'm so glad y'all are alright," I choked out, fisting the cotton of his shirt in my palm. "Even Stephen the asshole. Team bonding wouldn't be the same without his sarcasm," Hurrying to hide the fact that I was scared shitless, I did what I do best. I joked.

"Gods, you two are really a match made in heaven," Wanda's tired voice had 110% eye-roll in it. "So much self-deprication, almost as much as brilliance." The witch usually refrained from commenting on people's private thoughts. Usually, but not that day.

"I am relieved to know you hold me in high regards," Stephen's sarcastic remark made it's way around a mouthful of pizza.

Bucky's phone beeped. "They're saying Clint will be out in a few hours. No permanent damage, the gash on his leg won't scar and he's demanding Tony buy his saviour a cake," With a smile, the soldier read the text's contents out loud. "Also, the resident doc wants to hire you." Bucky pointed at me with a teasing grin.

"I, umm, I," Stammering, way to go. "I just - uh, I googled and I improvised? I'm not a doctor or a scientist, I'm a high school student," I replied, voice raising half an octave higher.

"Told you Tony, she's a friggin' genius," Peter sounded way too smug for someone who had a bruise half the size of his head.

"That she is," Tony's voice... Was different. It was honeyed and warm, blanketing me, surrounding me with safety. His arms tightened around me - not uncomfortably so, just enough to ground his presence in my personal space. I snuggled into him happily - he didn't mind at all. The cold glow and faint humming of his arc reactor calmed me. "Friday, cake. Princess cake from the bakery on Seventeenth."

Wow, Tony knew my favourite kind of cake. That was amazing.

"On it, boss." The AI immediately replied. "Well done, Miss." Friday addressed me with the same tone I heard in the lab. Gentle and understanding. It was so very strange.

We mulled around the living room until the pizza was gone and half the occupants were snoring away, dead where they sat. It was an unanimous decision to pull out the unfolding couch and form a cuddle pile of sorts - after such a long and grueling mission with one of their own facing the brink of death, all the superheroes were more than a little unsettled. I didn't exactly know where I fit in that. Obviously, all of them were close in one way or another. Even Loki and Stephen, seeing them get cussed out by Thor for attempting to leave was kind of amusing.

But it got me wondering. Maybe they felt like imposters, too? After all, I wasn't special. Loki wasn't considered a good guy. And Stephen was too much of a lone wolf. All three of us were comfortable alone, used to dealing on our own.

One look from Tony, Stark-patented puppy eyes, and I was making space for myself and for Stephen. Even if Loki insisted on grumbling all the way through, his exhaustion showed in the way he leaned on Thor's arm, using a weakly glimmering spell to summon himself a book and then closing his eyes for a moment.

Muted cheering broke out the moment elevator doors opened, showcasing a pale but smiling Clint held up on both sides by Natasha and Steve, Bruce half asleep on the blonde's other side.

"Looking pretty good for a dead bitch," Clint grinned in my direction.

I couldn't resist the bait. The boomer knew his memes, after all. "She's alive!"

He patted my leg, making his way to a free spot on the ginormous sofa bed. "Aw, pizza," He groused, spying the empty boxes.

"Should arrive in ten minutes," Bucky quipped, waving his phone. Then, the brunette super-soldier looked at me pointedly. "We usually order double after long missions."

"Duly noted, y'all hungry peoples." I said, filing it away for later. Thinking about more missions, more near-death experiences wasn't something I wanted to handle that very moment.

"So, uh, what exactly happened? My memory is pretty spotty," Clint demanded once he got his hands on some food.

"I also need to know. You're going to have to sign a statement and a mission report," Natasha stated apologetically.

I looked at her, confused. "Like... How many details do you need?"

Tony shifted beside me uncomfortably. I put a steadying hand on his leg - my palm was immediately dwarfed by his own. Natasha gave him a Look. "Fury's eyes only, but SHIELD needs to know how you figured out to neutralise a potential alien threat. Bruce ran some tests and this pathogen is... Pretty nasty, to say the least. It has the survivability to be classified as a potential weapon." Natasha's voice was apologetic, once more.

What have I gotten myself into? I was just trying to save a friend. "First of all, I'm not working for Men in Black, like, ever," I made the point to look her in the eyes. A brief moment later, she nodded. Tony relaxed, exhaling soundly. "Okay, get your reading glasses on. It went like this..." I retold the story, taking careful note to voice my thought processes as much as I remembered them. Save for a few surprised gasps and Tony haphazardly kissing the top of my head, the team gave me no interruptions.

Bruce was the first one to react once I was done. "But... How did you think of bloodletting? It's such an unusual solution," He mumbled more to himself.

"I've watched enough horror movies to know better than to introduce a foreign bacteria, such as antibiotics, to a person with an alien infection," I deadpanned, spying a satisfied smile on Stephen's face. "Worst case scenario, the substitution of infected blood with healthy would have diluted the amount of parasites or deflected their attention from eating away Clint's nerve endings. Him going bazinga from pain was my main concern," I admitted, the archer's pained cries once again filling my ears. The memory was still fresh.

"That makes sense," Bruce nodded.

"And what would you have done?" I asked, unable to withhold my curiosity.

"Sedated Clint while I examine the specimens," Banner replied with the obvious. "Then figure out how to cure the infection."

I nodded along slowly. "I considered that option but ultimately, I was too chicken to entertain the possibility of the parasites interacting with heavy sedatives. Fentanyl affects some of the blood components the parasites eat so only God knows how it might have ended."

Banner was impressed, that much was obvious. Tony's lips once again landed on the crown of my head, gentle and warm. More and more people in the room were giving me impressed, happy, grateful looks. It was strange and I squirmed in my spot, putting the half-eaten pizza slice back in the box, Steve immediately eyeing it in contemplation.

"Have at it, you human garbage disposal," I muttered, laying down comfortably. I was still shivering from the adrenaline rush and the soft blanket cocoon I shared with Tony and Stephen - their combined body heat under it - called to me like a siren.

"Are you well?" Loki noticed my state, casting a dark look over the edge of his book.

"Yeah, just cold. Us humans shiver when coming off an adrenaline rush," I remarked absently, pressing myself closer to Tony.

The engineer laid down, spooning me, tangling our legs together. We slept like that, all over each other, every time I stayed in his bed. It felt comfortable, like home, and nobody seemed to mind. Peter and Wanda, already snoozing away, were in a similarly indisposed state, octopus-ing their nearest teammates. Friends. Family.

My eyes drooped. My chest was about to burst with an odd sort of content - quiet, steady and welcoming. Tony's beard tickled my neck, breaths coming in soft puffs against my nape, spreading warmth all over me.

And there was something - someone warm in front of me, too, I could smell the sandalwood and spices of his cologne. Abandoning all reservations, I shamelessly wrapped both of my arms around a larger, more muscular one, taking note to avoid Stephen's scarred, sensitive hands. The flat of his tummy under my palm was rising and falling steadily, his breathing almost in sync with Tony's and mine.

All of us were safe and alive. It mattered to me, perhaps, more than I'd ever cared to admit out loud. As much as I refused to let them all in, for real and beyond silly gimmicks, they still wormed their way inside my heart, inside my brain. Not with long discussions and talking feelings - hell no, that's the hard and the boring shit, but with simply their presence.

Hugs. Mario Kart tournaments. Cake after I'd done good at something. Sunday morning pancakes for all. Homework. Sciencing together. Catching up on memes and just watching funny YouTube videos together. Playing Twister and Monopoly.

For the first time in my life, I had a stable presence. I belonged somwhere. It felt too good to deny, so once again, I allowed myself to be selfish.

✨ Taglist of my lovelies ✨ still open.

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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tokyoghoose · 5 years ago

Text

is it hot in here, or is it just me?

pairing: daisuke kambe x reader

playlist: dirty dirty - charlotte cardin, so hot you're hurting my feelings - caroline polachek*, i touch myself - borns ( cover )

warnings: mentions of sex and dirty thoughts, fighting/violence, mentions of murder, the word slut ( towards reader ), daisuke being hot af ig

summary: while on an undercover mission you reunite with an old partner before things get 'frisky' and not in a good way.

announcements!

first full length balance unlimited fic! im actually quite proud of it even if the anime is postponed. I will continue to write for them 😌

feedback is welcome and appreciated! requests are open!

—————

The bar is more like a club, except for the fact there's no one so extremely intoxicated that they're acting a fool. No, it's actually quite prestigious for being underground. White and gold outline outline the area and it smells like expensive cigars and leather. Live jazz music plays in the background, setting the mood for the couples huddled together in love booths. It's nice, beyond nice— whose daddy paid for this?

In a red dress, you stir your gibson cocktail, awaiting the signal from your boss over the earpiece. It's already been an hour and there's been no sign of the suspect. Maybe you've been played. As time passes that seems more and more likely. At this point you were ready to turn in and call it a night. Places like this were no fun unless you had someone with you. And honestly, being alone in a place like this wasn't the most comfortable. There were eyes looking your way from singles and couples a like. Who knew there would be so many swingers.

There's a patterned knock at the door that makes you perk up and glance through your peripheral. The body guard looks through the slit in the door, moving to mention something about the password. The club was always tight on security, afterall. To get in you needed to prove you were coming with a member or waiting for someone who was one. The whole process is quite time consuming when you're faking your identity.

Finally, the door opens and you can see a tall man in a dark grey suit walk in. Curiously you turn your face to place your chin in the palm of your hand. Eyes travel up the figure before finally reaching the face of the mystery man. Not the suspect, but he's even better. A fond smile comes to your face at the realization of Daisuke Kambe. The name has a familiar taste on your tongue and it's honestly quite uplifting seeing such a 'friendly' face. He looks the same after three years and you wonder briefly if he's undercover too or if he has paid his way in. Daisuke was never frugal when it came to getting what he wants. Where he was lacking in words, he made up for it with expensive charm.

Oh how you had missed him.

Meeting his eyes, you raise both brows in question before turning away to down your drink. You push the glass to the bartender, holding a finger up before glancing over at daisuke, who sits in one of the booths across the room. He narrows his eyes at you in question, jutting his chin over to the bar before nodding to the door.

So he's on a mission afterall.

Your eyes shift to the door as well with a nod. He seems to understand well, but it's not a surprise after the time you worked together. It was a brief two years, but during it you learned to communicate in silence. His eyes told you much more than his mouth ever could. Now thinking of it, all the Kambes were better with actions than words.

—————

A few conversations have picked up after twenty more minutes of waiting. Perhaps if there wasn't another man in the area, the other's advances would have moved you. You weren't picky with your men, but you weren't one to settle for second place when first is still an option. Still, it kept you distracted for the time being. Besides, Daisuke looked was busy with a man himself.

You lean in, placing a hand on the chest of some patron with a giggle before the door opens once again. This time you're quick to look, seeing another man trail in. The static in your earpiece comes alive, the voice on the other side stating that it is in fact your target. The patron you were with turns his head as well and smiles before pardoning himself to shake the hand of the man. You briefly recall the suspects name: Vince Aiko.

Now the party was getting started. You wave them over, batting your eyes with a small smile. You don't miss the woman that walks in behind them, but she doesnt stop at the bar anyway. Instead, she heads over to the raven haired across the way. You resist the urge to follow her figure, instead keeping eyes on the two men and starting conversation.

—————

The goal was simple. Get the target alone and eliminate him. Usually you weren't one for death, but the police weren't helping in this case. The company you worked for took it into their own hands, given the okay. Even if it wasn't your task to kill him, someone else would. No jail time would follow as apart of the deal, so there were no repercussions against you for killing the scum. It's a win win.

The other man had gone to the restroom by now, leaving you alone with Vince. He smells lavish as well. It was clear he belonged here by the way his hair was combed back and how whitened his teeth were. He has money and it's not ruining out anytime soon.

It took you until he ordered a drink and didn't have to pay to realize he was the owner. The assumption that it was daddy's money grew stronger. He was outwardly trying to flex wealth he didn't even own. He wasn't trying to be subtle when he asked for the most expensive bottle or paid the band to play his favorite song. It was entertaining, yet disappointing. At least Daisuke spent the money without mentioning anything about it. At this point you just kinda wished the guy would shut up.

Placing a lingering touch on his shoulder, you lean in again. He smells like a new car. He places a hand on your upper thigh, quickly catching on to your advances.

"Why dont we go to the back."

It's not a question, it's a demand and it's exactly what you wanted. Right in the palm of your hands. With a giggle, you take his hand and stand while plucking the toothpick out of your glass and pulling the olive between your teeth smoothly. Walking past Daisuke and the woman at his booth, you wink.

The backroom looks like how it sounds. Behind another door and a pink curtains, you enter a red room. It has a single loveseat in the shape of a heart and there's champagne and wine on a side table. There's a dark blue light overhead that contrasts the rest of the room like a spotlight. There's no music except for the quiet hum behind the doors, but the further you go away from them the quieter they get. He takes your hand and pulls you to the loveseat.

"I'm can't say I'm surprised. My friend out there thought you were in to him, yet here we are... Is it the money that gets you going?"

His eyes trail over your figure and you understand what this room is for exclusively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes or push him off as his fingertips skim your arms and you play along.

"What can I say? Rich men are the sexiest."

You play with the collar of his suit, looking up at him through your lashes and parting your red lips. He stands up taller to glance down at you, trying to assert his dominance. It's sad knowing that's how he got off. He wants control and he wants you on your knees, the only other thing he could ask for at that point is for you to lick his dress shoes. It makes you sick.

His fingers stop at the thin strap on your dress, fiddling with it before starting to slide it down. You push him away and into the seat behind him. Taking a hold of his tie, you lean down to his ear to kiss underneath it.

"Why rush when I can give you a show."

He chuckles when you turn around and you roll your eyes. What an idiot. I almost want to laugh. You move your arms up, brushing your hair off your shoulders before reaching for the top of the zipper. Glancing at him with a smirk, you shake a finger and turn to face him. His fingers rake up his thighs, reaching out to touch you but you smack his hand away with a tsk.

"Lookie, no touchy."

You start to make a round behind the chair, fingers grazing his shoulders and pulling at the fabric. Once behind him and forcing his head forward you take out the earpiece and reach for your thigh. There's a gun there in the holster and a knife beside it, hidden by the red drapes. Thank god the for the slit. When rounding his other side you pull the firearm out and aim it at his temple, stabbing the knife into his thigh before he can jump up.

"Sit down, sicko. Don't try anything or I'll put a bullet through your skull."

You stick the earpiece into his ear, waiting for the receiving in to chime in.

"Who let you think a soundproof room was smart? It's like one of those double sided mirrors in here. Honestly, you're such an easy target."

His eyes glower at you like his expression alone will make you back down.

"You slut! I'm gonna kill yo-" He's cut off by the earpiece. They ask for information, stating that if he complys his life will be spared.

"I'm not stupid-"

"Beg to differ."

"-I know you'll just kill me anyway. I'm not telling you shit!"

The earpiece goes back off and you take it from his ear to listen to the other side. Two words is all you need to finish the assignment. Kill him.

"This could've been so much easier for you if you just listened. " You feign a pout, clicking the safety off. He struggles against the metal, rambling on about killing you and the company, finding you and blah blah blah. Having enough of his whines, you silence him with a quick pull of the trigger. You look down at the body on the floor and then at yourself, cleaning up quickly before leaving the room, making sure to step on his back in the process.

—————

There was maybe ten minutes before his bodyguards would notice he hasn't left the room. You go to make your leave, but not before stopping by Daisuke's booth. You stand a bit aways, watching him try to get information out of the girl before his eyes glance over to meet yours. A one-sided smirk creeps onto your face. He was never very shameless when it came to things he did and the way his eyes did a slow once over of your body was deliberate.

How you missed that look. It's the same bedroom eyes from the nights you spent together in the sheets. You start to wonder if the body under his shit looks the same and if his fingers still produced magic without even trying. Were his lips still as soft?

Now isn't the time for that. You narrows your eyes and go to slide into the booth beside the girl after you notice the disgusted look she gave you. Shame is her freshly manicured nails were to get messed up in a fight. Not that she was trying to pick one, but-

"Long time no see, Kambe."

Daisuke quirks a brow and gives you a warning look when the girl glances at him. You shrug, placing your head in your hand.

"You know her?"

"Of course he does! I miss the sex we shared every night."

He chokes on his drink, shaking his head. What has gotten into you? You're lucky he had finally gotten the break they needed in the case before you came over. Still, you were way out of line with that one.

"Y/N, this is Lily. Y/N was just kidding, we used to work together. "

When he scowls at you, it actually scares you because he means it. He could take you down with him if need be. He adjusts his suit jacket and clears his throat before continuing, "Thank you for your time, but I suppose i should get go-"

"Aiko's dead! Code red!"

Daisuke looks over with his tongue to his cheek as if to say you fucked up and you're not ever hearing the end of this if we get out alive. Honestly, he might just leave you behind if in sacrifice fkr the case. You shrug in innocence, already calling in help for an escape. Until then you'd have to fight them off. Apparently these dummies were smart enough to notice who Vince went in with and they are quick to lock eyes with you. And so did the rest of the club goers.

You make a move to get up, sliding out of the leather seat with hands in the air in surrender.

"Would you believe me if I said he did that himself?"

It starts with someone attempting to grab you before people go ducking under tables. All those grueling hours of training for really coming in handy now. You just barely miss the grabbing hands, taking the bottle of wine on the table and breaking it. Lily gasps at the shards, going to hide under the table as well and tugging on Daisuke to follow. You gesture the broken bottle about, thrusting it forward.

The men simply laugh and go for the kill. The bottle doesn't last long and you move away from the table for the fight.

Hell is broken loose and it isn't long before Daisuke resorts to joining the fight. It shouldn't surprise you, but it does. He punches one of the guys with a right hook, grabbing the collad of his shirt and throwinf him into another. For someone so weak looking, he sure was strong. It makws you swoon.

"I really do miss us, Daisuke. Just like old times."

He scoffs, continuing to fight beside you. He hates fighting and always has. He finds it undignified and perfers to just dodge and have them attack each other if he can't pay it off. But right now there was no room for negotiations.

"Now isn't the time to relive the past, y/n."

It stings, but you know it's true. Daisuke was the kind to get straight to the point. It's part of the reason he was so easy to work with. Suddenly, it makes you upset to realize that this was in the past.

You hear a car screech outside, trying to land one more punch on some bald guy before looking at the door. You tug at Daisuke's suit, practically dragging him towards the door before pulling out your gun and pointing it at the rest of the men standing. The hesitate. As much as they want to go after you, none of them want to die for it.

You push him to there door and nudge him to open it. There's a revved engine outside waiting for you, and apparently now another guest. He takes the hint, pushing the door open and taking the gun from your hands as you flee. There's one shot fired, but you know the victim won't die. He may seem heartless, but he wouldn't kill someone unlwss he had to. He knows when someone will save someone else and he knows what's in people's conscious. He had always been good at reading people when he cared enough to.

The night has turned from blue to black and you aren't sure when. It's suddenly too cold to wear the dress and it's starting to rain. This has really been one hellish night. The passenger waves you over from down the block in a hurry. There are sirens in the distance—they must've called the police to arrest everyone else involved. That's always how it went. They gave the company the ok to take the case and then come in to finish the job and take the credit because of the unsavory ways you deal with the suspects. If you weren't always in such a hurry and you didn't want to be arrested, you'd be pissed. With a huff you kick off your heels and run down the pavement with Daisuke hot on your trail. He didn't usually flee scenes like this, not anymore at least. He'd be lying if he didn't miss the rush of it. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the past life he lived.

When you get to the care, it starts to pour and Daisuke puts his suit jacket over your head and shoulders before pushing you into the backseat. Caring, yet impatient. His attitude makes you roll your eyes and shove him when he gets in.

The car pulls away just before the police arrive and it's quiet except for the low hum of some tape playing. The radio didn't work and the volume knob was stuck, so you'd have to strain your ears to actually listen. But it seems no one minds.

You take off the jacket, handing it back of to him and he puts a hand up to say you can keep it. He says something along the lines of, "It'll still be raining when you get out. Give it back later." Is he insinuating you'll meet again?

"Or I can give it back tomorrow morning, if you feel like staying over. "

The sudden bravery shocks you and apparently it takes him aback as well by the look on his face. His face drops back to deadpan almost as fast as it lifted and he scoffs, looking away and out the window.

"I really do miss you, Daisuke. In more ways than one," you say quietly, looking down at the jacket and running the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. He glances back over at you before dropping his gaze to your hand and with a sigh he places his over your own and squeezes. It's a conformation, a returned feeling, but of what exactly —you aren't sure.

It'd be enough for tonight.

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heresathreebee · 4 years ago

Text

Garrote part 3

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word Count: 2,700 words

Warning(s): Rated Mature, language, partying, mentions of sex and drugs. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I am constantly mere clicks away from releasing everything I have at once but I know if I do I will lose momentum for the plot.

Edit: I. Forgot. The tags again.

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

The week that followed was heaven and hell. Diego went back to throwing parties nightly, fucking girls coked out of his mind, and in general trying to forgot all about Healy and his pretty bait, but Tommy Eagan was threatening war over a dead partner unless Alicia met his ridiculous demands. Thanks to Tommy's new right hand man, there was an opportunity to gain instead of lose now. All they had to do was wait and see if Dre could pull through.

There were two new numbers in Diego's phone. One unsaved that sent cryptic messages about their deal, and the other marked as an emoji rather than a name. Jazmine's texts seemed forced– like she was reaching out on behalf of Healy's instructions. So of course Diego elected to simply ignore them both. They were buzzkills anyways.

Diego was showing something important on his phone to his sister when Jazmine sent another text.

Remember when you scared off Haagen? I miss that every time I see him.

On the other end of the line, Jazmine felt pathetic sending the text. Healy hadn't even asked her to write this time, she was just so… bored. She hadn't been sleeping well, pulling double shifts involuntarily since her boss found out she closed the store when her coworker didn't show up. She carried her stress in her shoulders– the tightness in her neck caused her daily migraines and there was a new pinching sensation between her shoulder blades to accompany the rest of her pain. In the shower, she massaged whatever she could reach and thought of Diego's big hands doing it for her.

She literally shook herself to clear the thought and pelted the shower curtain with water in the process. Diego Jimenez wasn't some faux bad boy with a secret soft side– he was the leader of a cartel. If he hadn't killed people himself, he definitely had people killed for him. He was beyond dangerous to even fantasize about.

DING-DING.

Her phone called out to her from the bathroom counter and she realized it was past time to get out. Her fingers were pruned to the point of over-sensitivity and there was a rapidly closing window to apply the leave-in conditioner to the best of its use. Still, she wiped her hands on the towel to read the text.

Come out and party. Wear something nice.

Alicia boxed his ear over the last sentence but he brushed her off. Jazmine declined anyways claiming exhaustion and went to bed. There were people to socialize with already– what was the absence of one little minimum wage laborer going to do? Apparently she was important enough to occupy a corner of Diego's head. He was still bent about the way she had reacted to his identity. Who the hell did she think she was? As they discovered in the ungodly hour after the party ended, she was also important enough to drag Healy out of whatever hole he hid in.

"Diego, we need to talk."

Alicia had gone home– Diego expected she would likely never attend another one of her brother's parties as it wasn't her brand of debauchery– and she'd cleared the place out in her disgust, so his penthouse was empty for once.

"What's the matter," Diego poured himself yet another drink, "am I not being a good boyfriend?"

"We don't care what you do when you're not operating," Healy reprimanded. "But we need you to cooperate. Be a presence in Jazmine's fake life. You've been established as a rival for her affections, and you need to become an obstacle standing between the bait and the target. Jazmine walks home from work every single morning by herself. I don't know if you noticed it's been pouring buckets for three days straight."

Healy almost sounded like he was shaming Diego. It wasn't his fault she was poor. She wasn't his real girlfriend and therefore not his real problem. "Please don't make me regret making this deal, Diego. We will never get an opportunity to dismantle Haagen like this again. Need I remind you that you've got a missing child on your hands?"

Diego glared fiercely over the rim of his cup. Healy smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt and returned to his neutral position as righteous commander.

"Schedule more time to spend with Jazmine, especially in public spaces. We have it on good authority that Haagen is going to put a detail out to give him updates on Jazmine in the near future, and he needs to see you in these updates." Healy turned on his heel and reached the elevators, stopping them from closing dramatically and fixing Diego with a stare. "And no more ignoring us."

Jazmine woke up the next morning to one new notification.

I'm coming over.

"Oh shit." The woman threw herself out of bed and looked around. This wasn't fair. Cleaning day was a bi monthly ritual where she took a day off to deep clean the entire apartment, blasting music and stepping around her dog to get things done. Hercules wandered into her bedroom looking chipper as ever. "I guess we better get started then, huh?"

The fucker showed up on her doorstep not ten minutes after she got out of bed– she wasn't even dressed for the day. Her hands nervously tried to cover the broth stain on her jeans as she cleared a space for him to sit and wait while she finished her morning routine. She worried while brushing her teeth that Diego might be a psycho like her last boyfriend. Psycho enough to kick her overly friendly pet, but no sound of yelps filtered through the paper thin walls and when she finally emerged, the pit-bull was settled with her head on his lap.

Diego turned his head at the sound of a huge sigh. Jazmine was gazing at him but quickly turned when she realized she'd been caught. She began to flit about the room, picking up lost things and piling them up until she could figure out what items went where. He watched, making absolutely no move to help other than keeping the dog out of the way. Hercules– as the tag on her collar read– laid as much in his lap as he would allow.

"Buena perro," he muttered, and if she still had a tail, she would have wagged it. Growing bored, Diego rose and stalked over to the fridge. "Do you have anything to eat?"

The white void in the fridge answered for her, but she still called out, "no, it's empty."

"I'm ordering pizza."

"What about Chinese?"

Diego looked at the lonely, days-old Chinese boxes in the fridge and shivered. "I'm getting pizza." She didn't complain. He returned to the couch to do just that. Distractedly, he admired the curve of her spine as she bent over. She wore jeans again and another band shirt, this time it was a baggy Chicago thing. He licked his lips thinking about taking them off her.

Healy’s meddling had repercussions– mainly that it would made taking girls home harder, or at least less frequent. Diego still felt great suspicion towards this Jazmine, but it didn’t stop his body from wanting her under him. Or over him, on him, riding him… he tried to blink the images out of his head.

“What kind of dirt does Healy have on you?,” he found himself asking. “My sister and I have been dying to know.”

Jazmine shrugged, keeping her back to him. “No dirt.”

“So you’re just helping out of the goodness of your heart?” Pizza arrived in time for her not to answer, and they returned to their positions for further interrogation. “Anything to get that creep Haagen away from you for good? Or are you an agent as well?”

“No,” she said. She slipped rubber gloves on to begin maintenance on the tower of dishes piled on the side of the sink. She seemed to live alone– there was no reason to have so many dishes. Maybe he had been wrong in his assessment from earlier? Or maybe she was just a hoarder. “To tell you the truth, I’m about as fond of Healy as I am Haagen. I take that back– Healy’s a step up but not by much.”

“Because you don’t trust him?”

“I don’t know…” That mountain of plates and glasses seemed to disappear quicker than he expected and she began to scrub out the sink and the cleared counters, grunting with effort as she did so. “I trust I know the kind of man Haagen is, more so than I do with Healy. Partnerships like the one I have with Healy– they’re subject to change, and not always for the better. He’ll always do what’s in his best interest. What’s good for him is good for me.”

For Now. The implication that she may harbor the same feelings towards Diego was not lost on him. In fact, he stood up from the couch and approached the windows with their blinds down to peek out at the street. There was nothing quite so conspicuous as a black SUV with a mean mugging thug staring back at him. Even his own protection didn’t roll that sloppily.

Jazmine objected to the windows being opened but Diego insisted. “Need our relationship on display, right? Haagen’s got to know I’m here.”

She relented quickly and threw her gloves aside, plopping her butt on the couch to rest a moment. The leftovers in the box were room temperature but she hardly seemed to mind. God, he wanted to run his hand up her shirt just to see if she was wearing a bra. They twitched in his lap and he realized there was no way she missed the hunger in his gaze as he did.

“Did you bring those beers,” she laughed as she noticed the case on the coffee table for the first time. “Can I have one?”

The beer seemed to quell the tiny tremor in her fingers. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table permitting Diego to do the same. "What the hell are we even doing? Hanging out? What exactly is this accomplishing?"

Jazmine gave it some thought as she took a pull from her drink. "Putting on a show. We need Haagen to think I'm in love with you, like you're no good but I'm not ready to let you go for something 'better.'"

"And Haagen is something," Diego put his fingers up like claws, "better."

"He certainly needs to think he is." She noticed Hercules whining and let her out the door unaccompanied. "We've got his 'gentleman' ego to work with."

Diego followed her to the window and grasped her hips from behind. She half turned, gazing up at him with a question in her eyes. He leaned into her space to whisper into her ear.

"Those eyes Healy thinks Haagen sent to watch you? Well they're watching right now, and they're not being subtle about it."

She doesn't try to look like he expected her to. Instead, she stepped away from him and pointedly crossed her arms. "You don't look very comfortable if you're still wearing that."

She nodded her head at his coat.

"So take it off me."

That startled her. Jazmine's eyebrows lifted, and her feet shuffled when he gave her nothing but a smirk in return. Finally, she did as he suggested. She did not miss the way his hands seemed to brush lightly over her rib cage. These small, fleeting touches that left her breath audible and her stomach warm. He didn't even give her a chance to put the coat on the hangar when he dragged her back against him.

"What are you doing?" She didn't mean to sound breathless, turning her head to the side and exposing more of her neck at the behest of his pushy nose and allowing him to trail kisses on her skin.

"Putting on a show," he said against the shell of her ear.

He felt her stiffen a little against him. The tent on his pants was preventing a lot of important blood from entering his brain, but he was conscience enough to feel how conflicted she was. Diego slipped his hand up her shirt like he wanted, cupping her bare breast and sucking a mark into her neck. She allowed it, but it felt more like compliance than enjoyment. All at once and against the protest of his body, he let her go. He watched her shoulders relax and her hands find a home beneath her armpits.

Jazmine nodded in answer to a question left unasked. She did grab his hand and pull him away from the window, backwards into the tiny hall separating the front room from the bedroom and bathroom. She dropped his hand as soon as they were out of sight of the window.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," she said. "Just hang out for twenty more minutes and you can leave. I'll text you tomorrow and we can makes plans for another 'show.' You can stay in my room while I clean the bathroom."

Diego sat heavily on her bed. Just as he was about to get comfortable, someone knocked at the front door. Jazmine brushed invisible dirt from her knees as she got up to see who it was. He followed from a distance. The peep hole was almost out of her reach, but she stood on her toes to see outside. Suddenly, the woman looked back at him with wide eyes. It's Haagen, she mouthed. As soon as her head was turned to the task of confronting him, she missed the part where Diego began to undress.

"Hey!" She flung the door open and yelped when Hercules barreled through her legs to get inside. "You... found my dog!"

"Indeed," Haagen said, folding his hands over his heart. "I saw this poor creature wandering and I returned him using the address on its collar. I am astounded to learn that he belongs to you." Nice cover story. The man continued, "since you have the day off, I was wondering–"

Haagen's wondering was cut off by the appearance of a half naked boyfriend. Diego wound his arm around Jazmine and leaned down so he could engulf her clothed nipple with his hot mouth. She gasped, pushing his head away on instinct and he pressed her into his side like a vice.

"Come back to bed, baby," he purred, then pretended to take notice of Haagen watching in the doorway. "Oh, you're that guy, right? James, Jeff, Jebediah or whatever."

"Jeremy," the man hissed through his teeth. "Hello Di-e-go."

"Right right right." An embarrassed Jazmine buried her face into Diego's nude shoulder, acting unconsciously but playing into her role perfectly. "Kinda crazy how I start hearing about you and then all of a sudden you're showing up on my girl's doorstep, isn't it?"

Haagen made a move to defend himself but Jazmine was quicker. "He found the dog, honey! Jeremy was just bringing her home, he didn't know I lived here."

"Right," Haagen cleared this throat.

Diego's smile bordered on a threatening mania-- there were far too many teeth displayed to suggest any sort of friendliness. "Life is so full of strange coincidences…"

No one missed the way he squeezed Jazmine harder. It sent a message to be sure. Vague enough for Haagen to infer whatever he deemed necessary to the story in his head. It was quite brilliant actually.

"Well I ought to," Haagen swallowed, "leave you to it then. I'll see you around the shop, then?"

"Bye–" she barely managed to say before Diego dragged her into the apartment and slammed the door shut. He kept dragging her all the way back to her bedroom, and all the while she protested being treated like a misbehaving child. It wasn't until he'd slammed the door and collected his shirt from the floor that she realized what exactly had transpired.

"Oh." She brushed the frizzing curls invading her eyes, "oh that was perfect. Healy was right to pick you."

Diego rolled his shoulders once his shirt was tucked back into place. "Come over tonight. I'll text you my address and we can capitalize on this. Wear something nice."

She was about to protest his leaving but realized it wouldn't matter. If Haagen expected a fight from the noises he'd heard, he would probably just assume it had ended quickly if he saw Diego storm out alone. He crafted his own version of events. She let the pieces fall where they lie and made arrangements to meet Diego tonight.

#Diego Jimenez x OC #Starz Power #fanfic #Diego Jimenez #Garrote #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✏

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tk-productions · 4 years ago

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Mystic Sisters- Ch.3 Deja Vu

Hikari’s pov

I kept running through the dark and cold woods. “Why do we have to keep running?” I call out. There were heavy footsteps getting closer. “No matter what happens keep running.” Is what the familiar voice in my head kept saying. Why do I know that voice?

I woke up breathing heavily and confused. This was the 3rd time I had this nightmare. The nightmare was always the same. There was always a voice telling me to run away but what was I running from? I sat up running my hands through my hair. Yua has also been having nightmares but she never told me what they were about. She was always secretive when it came to things like that. We were usually in sync feeling each other's emotions but this is something new. I laid back down staring at the ceiling. Did these nightmares mean something?

I woke up the following morning to the sound of my alarm blasting Bad boy by Red Velvet. I hit snooze a few more times before finally getting out of bed before my mom came and woke me up. I worked some weekends at the local cafe Mystic cafe and today I had an early shift. As I headed downstairs I could hear Yua snoring from her room. Why does she always have to snore like that?

“Hikari I made you breakfast. It’s sitting on the dining table!” my mom yelled peeking her head out of her office door.

“Thank you. I have to close so I’ll be back late. But don’t worry Yua said she’ll meet me after work.”

“Okay sweetie have a good day. And don't stop at the park to pet random dogs.” I laughed remembering the last time I was late to work because I saw a puppy on the way and got distracted causing myself to be 15 minutes late.

“Hikari, there's a huge cake order being picked up later and I need you to ice them.” my boss Mrs. Hino said as soon as I walked into the stop. She was a middle aged woman with long black hair with bangs swept across her face. She had the warmest brown eyes that always made me feel warm inside. Mystic Cafe was owned by Mrs. Hino and her husband. The shop was passed down to her and has been in her family for 5 generations. When Yua and I were little we would always stop by on Fridays after school and get boba with our allowance before going home. Mrs. Hino would always give us extra treats with our order. “Anything for my favorite customers.” is what she always said.

She wasn't kidding about it being a big order. Walking in the back room there were 3, 4 layered cakes waiting to be frosted. Luckily the decorations were simple so it wouldn't take me too long.

I was so focused on finishing the cakes I didn't even hear Mrs. Hino tell me it was time for my lunch.

“Hikari, I said you can take your lunch. And change your apron when you get back.” Mrs. Hino said, laughing at my appearance and wiping the flour in my hair.

I nodded before looking down at my apron seeing I had different colored frosting over it. I grabbed my phone and headed out the back door. I stood there for a minute soaking up the sun. It had been sunny the past few days in Tokyo despite it being early Fall. I walked to the nearby convenience store and bought ramen along with a side of kimchi for lunch. Yua always made fun of how much I liked kimchi. She told me when I was little that I would turn into kimchi because I ate it so much. As I ate I kept thinking about my nightmare. I couldn't remember when or why I started having these dreams. I forgot about my food getting lost in my thoughts. Suddenly the air felt cold just like it did in my dream and I had the same uneasiness. Instead of being chased I felt like I was being watched. Is this how Yua felt a few days ago walking home? I could feel someone’s gaze on me but there was no one in the store besides me and the cashier. Before I could leave, someone was standing next to me.

“Boo!” said the girl jumping out in front of me.

“Hisako-chan you scared me.” I jumped clinging on to my phone that I almost dropped. . “I thought someone was after me.” I said letting out a shaky laugh.

“Hino-senpai told me you were here so I stopped on my way back from delivering my order but I didn't think I would scare you.” she laughed. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things. On the way back to the cafe Hisako unlinked our arms and stopped walking.

“You look tired. Are you okay?” she questioned my face.

“Mh im fine. I didn't get much sleep last night.” she reached out now holding my hand.

“Are you having nightmares again?” I nodded letting out a yawn.

“You can always stay over if you want to.” she smiled. “My mom loves when you come over.”

“Thanks Hisako.” she smiled brightly not letting go of my hand as we walked back to the cafe.

The rest of the day went by fast. The weekends were always busy but especially now that we brought out our fall drinks. Hisako and I worked a cookie order together while we caught up. I had always admired Hisako. We met last winter outside the cafe. The first thing I noticed about her was her long silky white hair and her tough exterior. She had green eyes that you could get lost in. She gave me a warm smile.

“You must be Hikari. Hino-senpai told me to look out for you. Aww you're just as cute as senpai said” she squealed running over to pinch my cheeks.The cafe was busier than normal and we were two people working that day. Between running the cafe and baking desserts we somehow boned. The following week I saw her at school sitting under the apple tree with her eyes glued to the book in front of her.Hisako was known for the “mysterious” girl. She kept to herself and didnt have many friends.

“Kimoto-chan?” I called out to the older girl. She looked up and smiled brightly. She motioned for me to sit next to her.

“People usually avoid me because of my white hair.” She said drinking from her water bottle. I looked back at her confused.

“They don't talk to you because of your hair?” She nodded.

“They think it’s weird.” I had to admit Hisako did have a cold exterior but she wasn't like that on the inside. We talked the rest of lunch and ate together everyday after that. I really look up to Hisako. She’s like another other sister to me

“Thank you so much for locking up tonight.” Mrs.Hino said, grabbing her things.

“No problem, have a good night.” Replied wiping down the table. There were only a few more customers that came in before closing time.

Finally. I sigh resting my head on the counter. It was a long day working 10 hours. I wrapped up the pastries that didn’t sell and put them in my backpack. I texted Yua telling her that I'm on way before cleaning up the last few tables and locking up. I shut the back door behind me double checking to make sure it was locked. The cold air blew across my face sending chills down my spine. I started to walk down the alley when I felt something. It was that same feeling I had at the convenience store earlier. I held onto my phone tighter and walked faster. I could hear the footsteps behind me now. I'm definitely being followed. I picked up my pace and the footsteps got louder. I ran down the rest of the alley with the person on my tail. I just needed to get to Yua. “Keep running.” This was just like my nightmare. Where was this voice coming from? I kept running as fast as my feet would.

“Ow I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention.” I said after running into the larger man in front of me.

“Hikari-san?”

“Sensei?” I questioned looking back at my homeroom teacher. He reached out to help me off the ground.

“Are you okay? You seem like you were being chased.”

“I was. I left work and someone was following me.” I explained out of breath brushing the dirt off my pants. Before I could say anything else Yua came running over.

“Hikari what happened? You were taking forever so I came to get you.” I hugged my sister and sighed in relief.

“Im fine. Let’s go home.” I whispered.

“Would you girls like a ride home?” Mr. Hara said.

“No we're fine. Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.” I interjected pulling Yua towards the train.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked unlocking the front door. No one's home. Mom and dad must be working late.

“Your location is turned on.” Yua answered, following me to my room. She shut the door and sat on my bed next to me.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened? You wouldn't talk to me on the way home. And you we were suppose to meet me at the tr-”

“I was being followed.” I interjected.

“Why did you call me during lunch? I could have stayed with you for the rest of your shift.” Yua asked a little while later from behind me as she braided my hair. I shrugged, pulling my knees to my chest. We stayed silent as she finished my hair.

“There’s obviously something you're not telling me so spill.” I sighed resting my head on my knees.

“I think it might have been the person who was following us last time. I don't know but I just get that feeling. I’ve been having nightmares again and now someone is following us.” I said but it came out more as a mumble. Yua tied the elastic around my hair and sat in front of me on the floor.

“Hey.” she cooed, “whatever this is we’ll be okay. Okay?” I nodded finally meeting her gaze.

“Cmon lets go downstairs and watch anime.”

“Only if we make popcorn.” I smiled following her out the room.

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years ago

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Merry Christmas, @flynnifox!

The prompt by @flynnifox:

I really like soulmates, and please fluff as it's christmas, coffee shop au's are also great, I like wolf Derek, werewolves are known, all the AU's, did I say please fluff? I totally love slow burn, kissing, nipping, scentmarking, sassy Derek, sassy Stiles, Alpha Derek, having to share a bed, snow, ice-skating

Here's to hoping that I blended these elements together in a satisfying manner that captures the soulmates + scents + sass + fluffy adorableness. Most of that brought by Derek's red eartips (because he's embarrassed so frequently).

Read on AO3

*****

Chocolate and Notebooks

Stiles pulls his eyes from the road, taking a glance at the clock as the trees zip past in the dark and chilly evening. One glance at the clock confirms his suspicions.

"It's 5:43 in the morning and this is a very dumb time to be driving through unfamiliar territory." He tilts his head, as if considering an argument. "And yet, we're perfectly safe because the shields are up and the path is true." His head cocks to the other side. "And yet, we are definitely feeling sleepiness come on." He hopes the next town is near, and avoids the part of his mind that would happily confirm for him that he's getting closer to his destination.

Built-in GPS is a great tool for a spark, but it can take the mystery and adventure out of life if he indulges the spark too much. And despite what others might say, he's not entirely convinced that there isn't a limited amount of magic available to any one person or to all beings and he feels responsible for not flaunting his magic with every waking moment.

"Beacon Hills: Next two exits" reflects back at him in bright white text on a shiny green background. The name sounds like an omen. A good one he hopes, and a town with a good little history, he double-hopes. Can't be too careful when there are many town that are just full of weird and sometimes bad things. Hunters are less likely to come make a mess in a peaceful town than they are in one with a reputation for trouble. Beacon Hills is, as far as he dimly recalls, not a name that's appeared in association with anything terrible in the last many years. He and whatever supernaturals may be around should be fine, so long as nobody upsets the balance.

Which is exactly the problem: The spark that constitutes the magical expression of Stiles is actually very interested in mischief. Supremely interested in making some things very much tougher for Stiles, and he tries to remind himself it's also done a lot of good for him over the years. A nudge here to take this turn, and a thought of just stopping and waiting somewhere on the sidewalk for a minute can both lead to finding old friends and good times, or missing a falling chunk of the facade from some ancient brick building. He can't often tell ahead of time despite pleading with himself to make it work.

He's decided that Beacon Hills has to be a good place, with good WiFi and good coffee and all that stuff. Nature is also calling more insistently against his bladder and he really hopes there's someplace open this early with internet service and decent restrooms.

"If I find that nobody in this town is awake at this terrible hour, and that they haven't got decent WiFi, I'm going to write them a very bad review and hex their coffeemaker. There are standards for how these things should work and that last place was a disaster!"

Of the four diners in the last town, some eight hours ago down the highway that specifically avoids the big urban centers, he found no curly fries on any of the menus. They seemed completely unimpressed with the idea of tater tots and he considered hexing them in some way or other but ended up just snagging food from the hot case at a convenience store and busting a move out of town.

When the first exit for Beacon Hills comes up he passes without exiting. It seemed too wild, like it was a regional wildspace, or something. Maybe this was more of an industrial exit for logging and whatever else they do here. The next exit surely showed promise.

Quietly in the back of his mind, a tiny version of Leslie Nielsen's voice replied, "And don't call me Shirley."

Erica had been ready for several minutes. Derek's routine for how to open the store properly had been whittled down to just 12 minutes for the cleaning prep, six minutes to get all the food out and presentable, and another full minute just to go around and make sure everything was in order. Derek usually closed the shop up, but today claimed he was feeling restless and arrived before she had and was already bustling around.

"Derek, you pay me to worry about these things. Why are you even here?" She watched as Derek redid everything she had completed already so he could be sure it met his extremely specific standards that are in no way related to what actually makes customers happy. Well, he's the boss, so he can ask for what he wants, but she's going to do it the way she knows is best when he's back on his regular routine.

She hollers at him from the cafe's dining area while Derek is in the back organizing and cleaning things in the kitchen he'd definitely organized and cleaned the night before. "You should go run out in the preserve or something. You have too much energy to be in a confined space before 6 AM on this day or any day." Her supernaturally-enhanced hearing helped her catch every syllable in reply.

"I'm here because it's my place and I don't really need a reason to be here, now, do I? I can come whenever I like."

Erica smirked.

"Shut your pie-hole, Reyes, or I'm switching you to the lunch shift and giving your boyfriend the morning."

"He'll hate you for that."

"I'm the alpha. I can take it."

At Erica's snicker, Derek growls to himself. As the alpha, his hearing is even more enhanced, but he can also feel her perpetual sniggering through the pack bond. He tells himself he should be used to it by now but he just can't. Wolves aren't monsters, they need to behave in a respectable way.

"Are you lecturing me mentally on how wolves should behave respectably in polite society? I mean, I know these customers and though some of them are gems, some are definitely not polite and don't belong out in society."

"Erica," Derek says as he enters the room. "Keep it down. You don't want anyone to overhear you talking trash about others."

"It's three minutes to six and I'm going to open up."

"It's too early. We open at six. Don't mess with people's expectations."

"Anyone here this early is here because they have no expectations, just a demand for coffee, bossman. You really don't have anything to worry about."

Erica walks to the windows and turns the lights on in the displays. She admires the way the colorful borders around the windows twinkle in the early air. They cast bright splashes of light into the intersection, visible from any direction of the street. Derek does fine display work and has made a version of the town in a huge diorama lit with tiny LEDs in the windows of the shops and homes, and decorated with the tiniest versions of people Derek knows. Customers, family, random people who caught Derek's eye are all represented in some way in the display.

She thinks it's the softest, brightest, most wonderful thing Derek does and he pretends to everyone like it's no big deal. He's the most ridiculous rough-edged marshmallow-soft man she's ever met. When she told Boyd about it, he agreed with a knowing nod of his head before he returned to mixing beverages for the fine residents and visitors who came through the door.

The subtle change in the air alerted her to potential danger, and she spun around to catch Derek standing at the door, looking confused and surprised at the man standing there.

"Uhh, if you're not open, that's fine, but I really need to use a restroom. Can I come in anyway to take care of the call of nature? She's been really, really going hard these last few miles."

Erica's snort escapes unintended. The man at the door snaps to look at her and grins, holding a thumbs-up. He gives her a sort of look that says, "Is this guy broken?" and Erica replies with a look that yes, totally broken, and harmless.

"Hey, welcome to Beacon Hills! We're opening right now and the bathroom is right down there. Go for it."

The man exhales and seems to weaken for a moment before taking off at a fast walk between the chairs and to where Erica had pointed. "Close your mouth and the door, Derek. I hear the landlord hates when people waste energy heating the outside."

The door closes with a click at the same moment Derek's jaw slams shut. She watches him transform from bare surprise to guarded watcher in an instant. "Watch out. I didn't hear him at the door when I want to go put the mat out."

"You still have that in your hands, Derek." She looks at him as he seems to realize the truth. Derek opens the door and half throws it out, trusting it to land however it lands as Derek seems to listen to the back area.

"Are you listening to him pee?"

"No, I'm—" He flashes his eyes at her. There's a visceral reaction for any beta to the flashing of one's alpha's eyes, but Derek does it so often they've all become somewhat immune to the power of it all. Derek's mother warns him about overusing his strength when a simple word will do, and while Erica see's he's gotten better with her coaching of him, he's still got a long way to go before Talia's advice actually makes a solid difference for him. "I can't hear anything. Nothing at all."

"He's probably just shielded, Derek. There are a lot of good reasons for that, especially when traveling alone."

Derek is a good-hearted alpha, and he's young, but Beacon Hills has been stable for long enough that his parents leaving him in charge isn't a disaster. Talia and her husband are consulting for another pack in Idaho and Derek's putting his training to use at home. The pack in Idaho had lost their alpha and Emissary in an attack of some kind, and they some serious help getting back on track. The mission, as it were, will be for a couple of years, but they're not far away and so the territory isn't really at risk even if Derek has some trouble to deal with.

"I don't think he's a threat, Derek. He seems kind of fun.." Which Derek would have considered if he wasn't being totally weird about this guy.

"Anyone who can sneak up on us is a potential threat, Erica. I shouldn't have to remind you of that." Indeed, Erica flashed right back to the moment she and Boyd finally returned to the territory after having been abducted by a nutty grandpa hunter and his daughter.

"Yeah, but like you also said, we can't just go in being suspicious of everyone. What if he's one of the good ones? You're the guy in charge, so people need to know they can come to you. He's probably not even aware this is our territory."

"We can't know that."

"I can just ask him, dude." Derek looks at her with an expression of disgust. She's solid in her sense of this new guy and his not-at-all-threatening intentions. Whoever he may be, or whatever he may be, he's good people. And he's not a werewolf, so there's no direct threat there. Derek's had his heart broken and his trust trampled on extremely effectively, so he's far less willing to consider his instincts and defaults to threat mode whenever something both supernatural and unexpected comes around. She regards him for a moment.

"I think we'll be okay. I'll find out about him and you hang in the back and listen, okay?" She considers for a moment. "What do you think he likes to drink?"

"I have no idea," he mutters and heads to the back room. Derek's taking things down to DEFCON 3 from DEFCON 2, which seems like a mark in her favor. She's not his first beta, but she does seem to be able to get him to think about other stuff sometimes when other people can't. When anyone happens to notice she says it's her brilliant curls, but the blonde really does seem to get his concern in a way the rest of the pack don't. Except for Boyd, and he's too busy being silent to really help Derek so directly. She lets a smile fill her face and nods to herself. Derek is trusting them more. He's been training them hard, and it's working, and she sets herself to figuring out who the new guy is and what new guy is up to.

She forgets for a moment how weird he was when he opened the door.

Stiles throws his bag onto the bench in one of the high-backed booths with a good line of sight to both the counter and the entryway and heads to the counter.

"What can I get you?" Erica says in her warmest 6-am customer service voice.

"Well, I think I want a coffee, but I also need to sleep soon, so that's probably a bad idea. I mean, caffeine can put me to sleep if I have a little, but it's been a while since I've taken my medicine and my ADD is probably going to fight me for sleep if I don't indulge in some delicious beverage action."

Erica laughs. Stiles beams. "I'm here with the jokes, folks."

"Oh, yeah, I can tell that about you."

Too quietly for normal hearing she hears, "Ask him who he is!" in an urgent tone from the back. Erica rolls her eyes briefly, making sure the visitor doesn't see it. She growls subvocally.

"Welcome! Sorry you had such a weird first experience with my boss at the door. He's not normally a weirdo."

"Eh, I'm not worried. I'm plenty weird. But he is okay? I mean, he seemed kind of... surprised?" Somehow, in some manner she didn't interpret, she heard the meaning behind it. The boss seemed both surprised and actually afraid of something, and the new guy had picked up on it.

Erica beams. "Yeah, we get that all the time. Boss is a total weirdo." Derek growls in the back and sets something hard against the table.

Stiles glances in the back then makes eye contact with Erica. "Is he alright?" he mouths at her.

She shrugs her shoulders. She isn't about to explain the weirdness on display right now. Derek's never been like this before.

"I am not sure he slept at all last night. He normally works the closing shift. I'm here to open, but when he needs pre-dawn fun, I'm apparently the one he needs to hang around."

"Oh, really?" Stiles raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, not like that. I'm taken. Boyd's a really good guy and he's not into sharing."

Stiles had glanced again to the back room but that comment brings his full attention right back to her. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to flirt! I am just like this all the time."

Erica leans back. "Hear that, Derek? He's like this all the time." She adopts a theatrical pose for a moment. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I've completely forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Erica, and that's Derek."

Stiles doesn't miss a beat. "I'm Stiles, and you're one of the betas, then? Is he the only alpha around? It seems a little..." Stiles seems to taste the air, sort of. Erica isn't sure how to describe the way he takes an open-mouthed whiff and kind of lets his eyes go blurry. "Oh, I see. Got it."

"What do you think you get, Stiles?" Erica says with a dash of suspicion. She'd heard Derek freeze in the kitchen, his heart racing now. She tries to be a cooler customer than her alpha and hopes that Stiles isn't offended. She's not really sure what a spark is, or what they do, but Derek's got an idea and it's shocked the hell out of him for whatever reason.

"Eeek, yeah, sorry! Sorry. I find I do this all the time, and usually on accident, if I haven't prepared ahead of time. I'm a Spark, and I'm really just here to find a quiet place to rest and drink something hot and warm. I'd like to write for a bit in the booth," he says, gesturing with a huge swing of his arm to the booth.

Erica nods at him. "I am pretty sure we can accommodate that request and we won't even have to do some paperwork for it," she makes a show of stage whispering, "Since my alpha is hiding in the back instead of greeting important guests like he's supposed to do."

This time the growl is clear to everyone. Erica smiles wickedly. "Alpha Hale, I believe you have some alpha-level responsibilities here with regard to our guest. Don't you think you should get out here and be polite?" She winks at Stiles, who returns the wink with a laugh he tries to stifle behind his fist.

Derek comes out and now Stiles looks at him without saying anything. He seems to close-off a bit, looking at the alpha in his black shirt and forest-green apron with the cafe's logo on it.

Erica notices the two of them and then grabs her phone from the counter and stepping out of the way.

"Stiles, you're welcome to be here. We have no restrictions against visitors," and by this Stiles heard between the words that the alpha meant. "of the supernatural variety." Stiles hadn't met an alpha so formal as this before. He mentally knocked his hand against his temple to try to recall proper protocols. He was not successful.

"Hello, Hale. I mean, alpha. Gah. This isn't going well. I don't do many formal introductions and I'm sorry to mess it all up. I hope you're not offended."

"No offense taken." Derek looks at the counter and then at Stiles. "Do you know what you'd like to have to drink this morning?"

"I hadn't decided that, though I imagine you already heard." Erica and Derek watch him as he catches himself glancing back. "And crap! I left my shields up without regard to any possible werewolf packs in the area. I'm sorry!" he said emphatically. "I would have taken them down in the parking lot if I'd have been thinking. It's been a long trip, and again, I—" he waves in the direction of the restrooms in the back and at that moment Erica and Derek both got a whiff of the spark without his protections. It took a moment to realize he was still talking.

"...distracted, on top of that, I've got ADD. You know how it goes? Wow, this probably explains why Alpha Hale had some trouble deciding what to do with me when I was at the door." Erica couldn't tell if Stiles noticed Derek was taking deep breaths, seemingly to scent him over and over again, which our staunch Alpha Hale never, ever does.

It was the, "You can call me Derek," said in a very warm and cozy tone that persuaded Erica to get the pack here. Whatever was going on needed witnesses, and she wanted to be sure someone else could verify this totally bizarre behavior by their alpha. Stiles didn't lie about being a spark, though if he were doing sexy mojo on the boss she doesn't know if she could tell. The scent of magic in the air happened only after he released the shield, and even hen he's been fading into the background. She snaps a picture of them with her phone and sent a broadcast message to the pack. Derek's phone vibrated, and he subconsciously pulled it out and put it on silent, no vibration, as he continued talking with Stiles.

Something is odd here, and Derek's doing things with his eyebrows that are perfectly adorable. Erica wants to find out what's going on, and she wants witnesses. While Derek and Stiles worked out the beverage order for a specialty hot chocolate, Stiles had also talked himself into a muffin and some veggie snacks. She's been providing summary notes to the pack and comes to a conclusion about this situation that she debates momentarily, then shares with the pack.

She's certain that Derek is deeply smitten by this newcomer.

By 6:45 the pack had all arrived, even those who had other jobs they were supposed to be getting ready for. Derek seems to have blithely missed the fact that the pack had arrived at the cafe and had been huddling together at one of the larger tables getting the play-by-play from Erica about whatever each had missed before they arrived.

Stiles had developed his senses such that he noticed Erica noticing them, and noticed that there were more wolves coming. Their energy wasn't hostile, but it was actively engaged. As he talked with Derek, he couldn't help but wonder why the alpha didn't seem to notice the rest of them. During a break in their chat about a particularly delightful staff he'd made friends with at a diner in Nevada, Stiles nodded to where the pack was sitting and waited for Derek to follow his gaze.

"Why is your pack here, Derek?"

"I don't know." He seemed surprised at not noticing. Derek looked at them and noticed that yes, everyone had arrived. He gave a glance at Scott who was loosely affiliated, being an alpha in his own right but mostly disinterested in claiming territory and building his pack.

"Don't you have work, Scott?"

"I'm sure Deaton won't mind that I came for the show at the cafe." Stiles laughed, and Derek looked at him, confused. "What show?"

Stiles isn't sure how to break this to him, so he tries to ease the wolf into the idea in a roundabout sort of way.

"Derek, what time is it?"

Derek glances at the clock above the exit. "It's almost seven. Why?"

"When did I arrive?"

"Just before we opened, I think." He scrunches his eyebrows. Stiles smiles, having already started learning the way the wolf's expressive eyebrows communicate thoughts he doesn't speak with his words. "Yeah, I opened the door and you were there."

"So you've been here talking with me for an hour and haven't noticed?"

Derek looks at Stiles, and the pack, and then moves to leave. Stiles gently sets his hand over Dereks' own hand, interrupting his sudden (and fearful?) escape.

He opens his backpack and pulls out a notebook. He then slides out of the booth and heads to the pack table, and pulls up chairs for him and Derek to join them. He sets the book down.

Wrapped around the book is a worn leather cover. It's got a few scratches and stains, and it is soft to the touch. Stiles loves this book, and as he holds it up for the pack and explains the leatherwork. Derek looks at the cover, surprised. Erica brings over a plate of cookies from the display and they show the same triple-spiral pattern, a triskelion, curled into itself in a familiar form.

Erica seats herself in the lap of one of the pack members. "Good morning, Boyd" Boyd nods to Stiles, unfazed by the recognition. Derek looks surprised that Stiles knows Boyd's name, and even more so that his packmate seems unbothered by the way Stiles already knows his name. Stiles says hello to each of the pack members. He gets to Scott and instead of "hello," Scott asks, "Why does your book have Derek's tattoo on it?"

Derek finds himself flushing and he's not half-sure why. The triskelion is a common symbol in supernatural circles. They've got it on their cookies, as the plate suggests. He grabs one of them and takes a bite. Stiles laughed at Scott and confesses that he sometimes blurts questions out, too. When Scott beams back at him, Derek sees how the two of them will become fast friends.

Then he tilts his head to the side. The pack takes notice, and then so does Stiles, who has turned to him with a sly smile.

"I hope you will allow me to share something with you all that I haven't shared with anyone, not even my dad." They nod, and then Stiles looks at Derek and raises an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, I guess. Not sure what you need our permission for."

Stiles grins at Erica, who knows something special is about to happen that will make all everyone's grumbling about being up early disappear in an instant.

"At three years old the little wolf, with his bare little feet and scruffy face and pointed ears, was poking around at the wild things in the area near his home. He couldn't control his shift yet, so sometimes he was half wolfy and half boy, and he barely noticed."

Stiles tilted the book at Derek who took a look at the image and said nothing, but his heart skipped a beat and his eyes opened wide.

"And the little wolf saw a lizard. The lizard told him that they could be friends, but that they needed to learn how, because one day, the little wolf might have to remind the lizard who his friends were."

Stiles didn't glance at Jackson, but a couple of the others did. Danny set his hand on Jackson's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"The little wolf did not understand the lizard. He asked the lizard how he would know him in the future. The lizard said they were family, but they didn't know that yet."

Scott's excitement overruled his better judgment again. "Jackson was a kanima and we found out that he was Derek's cousin!"

Stiles glanced at Derek and nodded. Derek avoided looking directly at anyone, but remained attentive in his listening. When Stiles continued, he looked at Jackson and smiled slightly. They had a rough go of things at first, but they've come a long way. Jackson really has worked on letting his fears go, the ones that fed the kanima and he's becoming a better man. Derek likes to think the experience has humbled him, too. After all, it isn't every day you discover that a dangerous were-creature was basically possessed by the darker side of his own fears and ended up doing some pretty awful things until they got it all worked out.

Jackson is reliable now, and Derek is one of the people he sends texts to when he is looking for advice. Derek considers it good progress that Jackson doesn't just ask about pack advice anymore, and instead about real-life stuff, like running a business and all that stuff.

Stiles has moved to a new story and Derek catches his name again. He inhales once more, and Stiles stops to scoot a little closer.

"Oh, sorry, this one is out of order. I'm not sure Derek will remember it." Derek sets his hand on Stiles' knee almost as an afterthought. It is as if being with Stiles is a thing that has already happened, and they've been together for decades. They haven't, but it's so easy to believe it, to trust Stiles, and to trust Stiles with his pack.

"When the little wolf had his first birthday, his asshole uncle creepy pants..." ("That's exactly who he is" slips Lydia under her breath, echoed by "yeahs" around the table.) "...gave little wolf a box. Little wolf was a boy at this time, almost never being wolfy at all. The box in front of him had a very interesting handle. Uncle creepypants showed little wolf boy that he could spin the handle around and around and listen to the music the box played. Little wolf boy was so excited! He squealed with delight and turned the handle in his tiny fist and laughed himself silly."

"But when the box clicked and the lid opened to reveal an ugly clown on a spring, the surprise of the moment caused little wolf boy to change, with little sharp teeth and little sharp claws and he knocked the little box over with his mightiest growl." Derek chuckled at this. The image was adorable even if he still has a thing about clowns."

("Derek's got a thing about clowns." Scott chimes in. "Perhaps we should not keep interrupting Stiles, Scott?" Lydia said with a glare. Scott was suitably threatened into silence and put his hand over his mouth as a reminder.)

"After little wolf hit the toy he ran to his father. The man was tall, friendly, and even for a human he was strong. This man was not a wolf like the little wolf was, but he seemed just as strong as everyone else to the little wolf and Derek felt himself scooped into his father's arms and held close as he cried about the toy. His father soothed him, promising to damage his uncle's personal things in retribution for such a prank. Little wolf was happy, and though he dreamed of bad clowns for a week, he also dreamed that he and his dad would fight them together."

The pack seemed to adore the stories, and Stiles kept reading. Derek would have preferred if the pack never heard some of these stories because many of them revealed parts of his life he'd forgotten about, or didn't want to talk about. Stiles was a good storyteller, though, and he found that as he wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulders, and felt the lean muscular strength there, and smelled the way the chocolate and spice and scent of orange blossoms filled his nostrils, and how there was almost a flavor to the frisson of electricity in the aura of the spark. He felt cozy, and watched as the pack listened raptly to this master storyteller at work.

"This one is set in the future. Not even today, but in the near future." The pack looked at each other. Stiles looked at Derek, sat-up so Derek couldn't read ahead, or see the drawings in the margins. He wanted them all to experience this together. After all, the future isn't set, but this particular event isn't one of great triumph or struggle, so it shouldn't impact much of anything one way or another.

"It's the kind of Christmas morning where the windows are foggy and the lights on the houses nearby are blobs of color on the glass. The snow is on the ground thick enough to muffle noise, but not so bad you can't walk through it. In the great house in the preserve the pack meets. The little wolf is now a big wolf, but not a bad wolf. He's got his own pack now, and they welcome family and friends from far away every Christmastime."

"In the kitchen big wolf makes hot chocolate using a secret recipe he's developed at his cafe and which delights everyone. He prepares a cup for his electric friend, and for his friend who knows the ghosts, and for his cousin and his betas, for his sisters and their partners. He brews a magical potion of love and chocolate for everyone and makes it only at this time of year, as a treat to himself for his birthday, and as a cherished present to those he loves." Stiles grabs a cookie and munches it and glances at his notes.

"Oh, dang. Sorry, everyone, but I need to skip the rest of this."

"What, is it PG-13? We can handle a little of that. You two are already cuddling up."

"No, it's not that. The future is not set, and these stories might be pretty close to reality, but they're not facts. I don't know if the newcomers — No, sorry, I just don't know what I should say, so I'm going to skip it. And don't go trying to get into it later, Erica, you literally cannot read it, on top of getting a nasty burn if you try to open the book without my permission." She grunts back at him something about Batman with all his tricks and traps. "We'll get to it when we come to it. Together."

Derek nudges him with his shoulder. "Oh? Have you already decided you're staying?"

"Well, yeah, duh. When people meet their soulmates they really shouldn't just keep going."

"What? You did?"

Erica takes a cookie and throws it at Derek. "You're an idiot!" Derek looks at her confused, and annoyed. Boyd gives him a look that says to Derek that he is, in no uncertain terms, "being so stupid right now I can barely stand how stupid you're being. Would you please figure this out right now so we don't have to hold your hand through this life-changing event? What the hell, dude?"

Derek looks at Stiles, looks at the pack, and Jackson says, "Yo, dude, just check your threads."

It's Jackson's way of referring to the bond the pack has, and how they're bonded together with something that mentally looks like an energy string tying them together, supernaturals and humans alike. It's also the thing that Jackson knows will have Derek realize the truth of the situation. Derek tends to have to feel things out for himself. He doesn't think his way so much as do and feel and goes with that. The pack bond is one of the alpha's most powerful tools for relating to the people he's responsible for, and Jackson knows it's the kind of thing that will quickly get Derek out of his stupid place.

So Derek does at Jackson suggests. The pack are held with bright yellow bonds, the links between betas and between betas to their alpha. There are links to his family in colors that are tinted mostly with greens. Even Danny and Scott, both of whom are loosely associated with the pack, still have bonds to the alpha which show as gold from Danny and red from the other alpha. But there's a new line now, one directly to Stiles, and from Stiles come lines to the rest of the pack. There's a sort of hum to the group, a frequency that sounds like a cat's purr, or the perfectly tuned note on a piano, or the breeze through the forest in spring.

And the smells are incredible. He can now tell each member by scent just by thinking about them. Stiles being part of the group enhances his abilities considerably. He has the scent of desert clay and expensive wine from Jackson. There's the mixed whiffs of poppy and rain from Erica and Boyd. There is a tickling scent of dust from Lydia that underrides the floral of begonias and sparking wine. Allison smells of metal and snickerdoodles, and Scott of cane sugar and browned butter.

"Why can I feel your dad, Stiles?"

"Oh, well, we're a package deal. I bet you that within two years he'll move here, become Sheriff, and everyone will know him. He's just that kind of guy."

"How do you know this?"

Stiles opens the back cover of the notebook and holds it up to Derek so that only he can see. He folds it quickly before the pack can lean over enough to catch a glimpse. "Does that answer it?"

"Yes and no. I mean..." Derek glances at the window. Erica watches, and Lydia gasps minutely before catching herself. She barks an order.

"Boys, why don't you go get those figures and bring them to the table?" Jackson and Scott rise without a thought, only belatedly realizing they came to attention at her order. She's got no direct power over them, but yet, she somehow really does. She's just that intimidating. When she and Jackson broke-off their relationship, they took some time to heal from it, and now it's genuinely a good, close friendship between them. But he still does her bidding without necessarily meaning to, at times, to his minor annoyance. Danny just laughs at the situation, having been Jackson's best friend for ages and aware that Jackson really just kind of likes to be told what to do sometimes.

Stiles sits upright as the figures are laid before them. Derek is red-faced again, up through the tips of his ears. It's easily one of his most endearing qualities that are entirely outside of his control. Stiles loves that about the man, that his embarrassment and pride show through even when he doesn't mean to. and he's adorable when he's struggling with it.

"Wait." Stiles holds one, and then taps the rest, seeming to sense something about each. "You made these figures? The whole pack?" Derek nods. "These are great! Look, you even gave Jackson a little lizard tail. So cute!" (Scott had brought the Jackson doll over and hadn't realized that feature had been added. "Asshole" is all he says before sitting back in his chair and watching his cousin squirm under Stile's scrutiny.

"They're wonderful, and I think you did a great job. You could sell work like this for some pretty big bucks online, Derek. But why are we looking at them?"

Derek rises from his chair and goes to the window display. There's a house there between some tall trees. He reaches to the back, opens the door, and looks at whatever it is outside of Stile's line of sight.

"Come on, big guy. You don't need to hide your toys. Bring it over!" Stiles says playfully, and the pack giggles. Derek's ears flush brighter red and he steps over to Stiles and holds up to him a tall, thin figure with wild hair, a backpack just like the one he's got (down to the star and moon diagram in the middle), and sets it in front of Stiles next to the figure that looks like Derek.

"When did you make this?"

"I've had dreams about you for a long time. I could never see your face, but I knew the hair, and the bag, and the flannel shirts and tight jeans. I knew you were coming, but it wasn't until a few minutes ago that I realized this was you."

Erica holds her hands out. Several pack members put fives and tens into it. "I told you they were soulmates, but you all didn't believe me. All Stiles had to say was that he needed to pee and Derek just couldn't control himself."

Stiles and Derek could not help but laugh at that. Lydia and Boyd both gave half-disgusted, half-amused looks at her. Danny and Jackson were just laughing their asses off and Jackson silently filed that quote away for use later.

On Christmas day, not a week after they'd all met Stiles for the first time, the alpha and his soulmate had organized the pack to put up decorations inside and outside the Hale family home, they'd been cooking food, with Stiles giving Derek a flavor suggestion that perfected the recipe Derek's been working on, and they gathered everyone together for a huge pack picture. Stiles' dad and Derek's parents were able to get to town in time to welcome the happy couple to their first major holiday together and celebrate the blending of their families and pack.

As it turns out, the cafe has excellent WiFi and Stiles never has to worry about his things disappearing when he has to make runs to the restroom between writing chapters of his children's books about the Little Wolf and the Boy in the Red Sweater.

#flynnifox #*stereksanta18 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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sad-goomy · 7 years ago

Note

You're killing me with the stories!! How about another lonashipping❣️ if youre up for it? I actually didn't even start shipping lonashipping until I read ur last story and now I'm going on a reading binge of your stories lol

Send in a ❣️ for a random kiss (or just send me a # and a ship!)

Ahhh that makes me so happy to hear!! Hope you don’t mind this weird AU (and that it gets a little saucy at the end whoa)

15. a quick kiss

When Moon applied for a position as a research assistant, working with a stuffy Ph.D. candidate with a short fuse was far from her first choice.

She’d heard the dazzling stories of undergrads who worked directly with Professor Kukui in zoology, spending days out in the field and going on to award-winning discoveries. She marveled at the tales of students who worked under Dr. Burnet in astrophysics, traveling across the islands and spending nights at Hokulani Observatory to witness astronomical marvels firsthand.

What she got was late nights in a tiny office with Gladion.

Moon is seriously considering dropping out.

The only upside is that the office has a particularly comfy armchair that she’s made her home as she works on her laptop, typing up reports and poring over data – Gladion declared that he’s more than capable of handling the “real work,” and that the only thing he could really trust a measly undergrad with is the menial tasks.

Still, it’s not a totally bad gig. The work they’re doing is rather interesting, and directly applies to her Environmental Science major – maybe most people don’t find water management fascinating, but Moon can’t think of many other ways she’d rather be spending her Friday nights. Now that they’re approaching two months working together, he’s also started to give her more meaningful work to do. It helps that she’s more than capable and has also saved his ass a few times since he has a bad habit of working quickly and not backing up his files (and she’s meticulous with a hard drive). And she’s gotten quite used to their battle of wits, to the point that she finds herself daydreaming about possible retorts in her classes.

Not that they’re really friends. He’s said so himself, multiple times, making sure to emphasize his seniority (of barely five years) and their relationship (strictly professional). Moon only rolls her eyes whenever he brings it up, content to simply mutter, “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” which shuts him up and gets them back to working, if not with a strange shift in the air between them.

But it’s late on a Tuesday night when she realizes just what kind of trouble they’re really in.

She yawns from her spot on the armchair, sitting cross-legged with her laptop open to last week’s collection of data. Gladion looks over at her, the dark circles under his eyes evident as he smirks. “Past your bedtime?”

“It’s past yours, too, Grandpa.” He frowns at the nickname, which she came up with when he brought up their age difference (again, five years) for the dozenth time. Moon glances at the clock on her laptop, groaning when she realizes it’s past midnight and she has yet to finish this report. It’s been a rough week for both of them, her having to balance her other classwork, and him having a deadline approaching to apply for more funding. She thought it would surely drive them to each other’s throats; strangely, it’s brought out a more endearing side in both of them as they struggle to stay up together, working on the one thing they both love.

Gladion pauses in his typing, sitting back in his chair and closing his eyes. Moon tries not to stare, but she finds her eyes tracing the cut of his jawline, and the two piercings that line his ears that he refuses to tell her the story behind no matter how much she asks. When his eyes open once more she forces her gaze back on her screen – she’s staring because she’s tired and zoning out, obviously, but there’s no doubt he’d tease her relentlessly anyway. He sighs, glancing over at her in her ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirt. “At least you thought ahead and didn’t wear anything nice.”

She gives him an unimpressed glare. “At least you wore all black so that you won’t have to change.”

“Change for what?”

“Your funeral, since this deadline is about to slaughter you.”

He blinks, sleep deprivation slowing his mind.

Then he laughs, honest to god laughs, and Moon feels something strange stir within her.

Something worryingly…pleasant.

“That’s true enough,” he muses, and she’s wondering why he doesn’t try to come up with an argument instead. It’s not like him to admit that she’s right, much less laugh along with her jabs thrown at him, but then she reasons they’re both in a strange emotional state from a week of late nights. With the laughter out of his system, he seems to sober up a little, sitting up and going back to his computer. “If it weren’t for my own illegible notes, we might be able to go home earlier.”

“Betrayed by your own shorthand?”

“Don’t act so smug when you can barely decipher your own handwriting.”

He tries to hide his smile, but she can tell he’s proud at the crack, and she has to admit it’s a good one as she chuckles behind her laptop screen. Realizing she can barely focus on the words she’s typing, she rubs at her eyes and feels the coffee machine down the hall calling her name. She stands and stretches, her back aching and her legs relieved to finally be in use again.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, forcing his eyes to remain on his computer screen and not on the strip of skin that’s revealed when her arms stretch above her head.

She nods. “Getting coffee. You want some?”

“From the disgusting machine in the sad excuse for a kitchen?”

“No, from the finest café in Kalos because either of us have standards.”

“…make it a double espresso.”

She smirks, about to walk out of the office when he calls, “Moon?” She turns with a hum, watching as he stares at his notepad with furrowed brows. When he looks back up, he’s no less confused as he asks, “What do you think ‘cul eut’ stands for?”

Chewing her cheek, she gives it a moment of thought but ultimately shrugs. “Not sure.”

“Figured. Oh, and bring some sugar packets.”

As she walks down the hall, she can’t get the odd shorthand out of her head. The phrase haunts her as she starts up the ancient coffee machine, grabbing the two cleanest mugs she can find in the cabinets and stuffing her pockets with sugar packets. As her mug fills with plain black coffee, she mulls over “cul eut” so much that it starts to seem like an ancient Latin phrase that she’s deciphering, rather than another example of Gladion’s strange note-taking.

It’s one of many odd things about the Ph.D. candidate that Moon has grown accustomed to. There’s also the way he insists on black coffee only to load it up with sugar. Then there’s how he seems to be unimpressed with everyone yet speaks so fondly of his sister that Moon feels her heart clench from secondhand adoration. Who could forget the time she caught him smiling at photos of his rescue dog and forced him to tell her all about Silvally? And then there’s the way he concentrates on especially difficult problems, how his brows furrow in concentration and he bites down on his thumb or his bottom lip, and she imagines how he might do the same to her neck and -

And oh no.

Oh, please god no.

She cannot be having an existential crisis about the uptight Ph.D. candidate in the crappy kitchen in the graduate studies offices. But here she is, only snapped out of it by the coffee machine groaning as it finishes pouring his double espresso, and she hurries to shut the machine off and walk back down the hall, trying to outrun the thoughts of how cute he is sometimes and no stop that he’s insufferable and her boss kind of.

Desperate to find anything to focus on instead, her mind goes back to “cul eut,” trying to decipher the code as if her life depends on it. The more she mulls it over, the less certain she is that she’ll ever be able to figure it out, until she reaches the office once more and sets down their mugs only for the realization to hit her with a wave of relief.

“Cultural eutrophication.”

Gladion jumps in his chair, startled by the way she slams the mugs on his desk and the sudden outburst. “What?”

“Your notes.” The sudden discovery coupled with the sudden crisis has her nearly hysterical at this point – she’s gone through the whole range of human emotion in the past ten minutes alone. With a smile that borders on manic she lets out an astonished chuckle and repeats, “Cultural eutrophication. Cul eut.”

His lips part in shock, and he hurries to look through his notes, flipping the pages and reciting the words silently before looking back up at her with a grin that has no business bringing out his dimples. “You’re right. My god, you’re right!”

She smirks, opens her mouth to say something snarky, and he stands, goes to try and thank her, and then something inexplicable happens.

It’s half a second long but there’s no denying what just happened.

He kissed her. Just a quick peck on the corner of her mouth, but he kissed her nonetheless in his rush of gratitude and the haze of a late night in his office.

“Oh,” she breathes, fighting the urge to touch the spot because she swears she can still feel his lips there (and by god does she want to feel it again).

“Oh,” he whispers, realizing that he’s lost any hope in hiding his attraction to the undergrad (and that he really couldn’t hope to keep it up much longer anyway).

They stare. They think they should ignore it. They should laugh it off, chalk it up to a weird night and go back to their very comfortable, very safe routine of quips and hidden glances.

But then her back hits the wall and his lips crash into hers and her fingers are in his hair and she only manages to gasp out, “Oh.”

Oh no.

But oh finally.

#kiss meme #anon #lonashipping #join the club friend!!! we're a v supportive community and glad to have you!!!#also so honored that you took the time to read and i could convert you lol #'it gets saucy' as in i barely allude to a makeout between two adults omg #moon is around 21 here and gladbag is 26 #also help im starting to really like this au #if i actually wrote it this would be around the middle probs #wrote this while procrastinating on a paper don't follow my example kiddos

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sitabethel · 7 years ago

Note

*rolls across floor* it's my work break, I just want to eat the fluffy waffle bits that come off of the side of the pizzelle cookies but that's a Bad. We make lemon cookies, and TKB deserves a lemon where he bosses Atem around to balance all this top!atem. Normally I'm team Bottom!Kura but Thief has too much swag for this.

What was that? Dumb casteshipping coffee shop au with top!TKB? Okay

damn thing won't let me add tags (thanks mobile app), but it's nsfw

***

“Cookies smell ready. Take them out of the oven.” Bakura sat on an upturned milk crate near the floor and played Pokémon on his phone.

“The timer hasn’t gone off get.” Atem sat on the stainless steel prep table like it was a throne. He shuffled a deck of Duel Monster cards and started flipping them over to see how balanced his new deck was.

“Who cares? They’re done.”

“They’re not done because the timer hasn’t gone off.

“You can’t always trust the rules, Atem. I’m telling you- they’re done.”

“Then get up off of your own ass and get them yourself. You’re not my boss.” Atem frowned at his hand, discarded it, and drew several more cards.

“I’m busy.”

“You’re on your phone.”

“You’re playing with cards.”

“So what?” Atem shrugged. “I’ll get them when the timer goes off.”

“Dumbass, now they’re burning.” Bakura growled, shoved the phone in his pocket, and pushed himself to his feet.

“But the timer-”

“I swear to God, Atem, say timer one more time and I will shove it so far up your asshole that your boyfriend will get jealous.” Bakura pulled open the oven, brushing away the first developing wisps of smoke and frowning. “I fucking *hate* the smell of burnt shit. I fucking hate it! Look at this shit! The edges are all dark brown and ugly- I told you they were done.”

“Who cares about dark edges.” Atem dropped his cards on the table, face pulled into a sad expression that didn’t quite fit the situation.

“They’re lemon cookies. They need to look fluffy and yellow, not all brown and crusty like your feet.”

“Lay off me, Bakura.” Atem jumped to the floor. The table wasn’t that high, but Atem was short enough that it was an event to get up or down.

“What the hell is your problem today?” Bakura shoved the pan on the rack for cooling and turned off of the oven. He turned towards Atem, his frown causing the scar on his face to slice crookedly on his face.

“I got dumped, okay?” Atem stared at floor.

“Weren’t you two soulmates or some shit like that?” Bakura snorted as he used a pocket knife to wedge a cookie off of the sheet and bite into it. “They taste okay, but they still look like shit.”

“I thought we were.” Atem hugged himself and leaned against the prep table. “I really did. That’s why … I still don’t understand. He just left me. He said I sat around and played games too much. Okay? But, like tell me and give me a chance to change before you dump me?”

“Fuck that. You don’t play too much. It’s not like that little bitch was a WOW widow or anything.” Bakura shoved his hands into his apron pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Sucks man. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Atem grit his teeth, turning towards the sink. “Whatever. Let’s just get out of here. I want to go home and crawl into bed.”

“Nah man, fuck that. You’re single. It’s Saturday night. You should do something better than go to bed. Fuck your ex, don’t mope over him.”

Atem ignored Bakura as he filled the sink with hot water and started to wash coffee pots and cookie sheets. The café was small and on the wrong side of town, away from the college crowds. They hadn’t had a customer for forty-five minutes and probably wouldn’t get another one until they closed.

“Atem~” Bakura sang, slinging an arm around Atem’s shoulder.

“Look, just let it go, okay? I don’t need another game-playing loser trying to cheer me up for being a game-playing loser. That’s like a wino telling an alcoholic that he doesn’t drink too much.”

“You know what you should do. You should come back to my place and…” Bakura pressed his lips close to Atem’s ear, whispering in his lowest, most seductive bedroom voice, “play even more games.”

“That’s the last thing I should do.” Atem nudged Bakura away. He glanced at the cards scattered across the prep table. “Think if I dump them all in the sink and ruin them, that maybe he’ll give me a second chance?”

“What?” Bakura shouted. “Mother fucker, please. First of all- give them to me, you have some bad ass cards- and second- fuck your ex! Nothing is wrong with you. I mean, okay, you’re a smug fucking bastard and I want to punch you in the face half the time we work together, but you don’t play any more games than the rest of us.”

“But…” Atem pressed his face against Bakura’s chest. “He left me.”

“Shit man, he’s probably fucking a girl on the side or something. The card games were a cheap ass excuse. C'mon. Let’s close up early and get the fuck out of here.”

“We have ten minutes left,” Atem said.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Bakura grabbed a bag and started shoving cookies into it.

“Bakura? What the hell are you doing?”

“Well, can’t sell ‘em like this, so I’m going to mark them as waste and take them home.”

“That’s stealing!”

“And throwing them in the trash is a fucking sin against hungry children.” Bakura waved his bag of loot. “My place. Cookies and card games.”

“We’re going to get fired.” Atem sighed. “Whatever. I’m too depressed to care.”

They closed up the café early and walked to Bakura’s car. He drove them back to his apartment and piled the cookies on a paper plate, setting them down on a water-stained coffee table.

“Let me get my deck.” Bakura went to his room and changed into a pair of navy sleep shorts before grabbing his cards.

“Okay, just prance around half naked. Damn.” Atem glared at Bakura when he came back.

“Fuck, you’re such a prude.”

“I’m not. You’re just half naked.”

“Well, I have extra shorts if you’re jealous.”

“Oh goody.” Atem rolled his eyes. “A slumber party.”

“Shut up and cut my deck.” Bakura slammed his cards on the table.

They played a quick game. Bakura got out every letter he needed for his Destiny Board in order to win. Atem slumped into the cushions and sighed.

“See? I’m a loser.”

“Atem, how many times have you kicked my ass at work?” Bakura rolled his eyes. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about that jackass. Shuffled your cards and play again like a real duelist.”

“What’s the point?” Atem reached over and grabbed two cookies, double fisting bites to his mouth.

“The point is break-ups happen and then you get on with your life.”

“Easy for you to say. No one ever dumps you.”

“No one ever dates me.” Bakura grinned as he stole a cookie from the plate. “I’m too much of an asshole to ever get a second date.”

“That’s because you’re a card game-playing loser.” Atem spoke with a mouth full of cookie.

“Don’t fucking project your insecurities on me. I like my life.”

“You work in a fucking coffee shop.”

“Excuse me, your majesty, I didn’t realize that lowly peasant work was too good for someone of your skill set. Oh wait, you work in a fucking coffee shop too, nevermind.”

“Yeah, and I’m a loser. That’s my point.”

“Whatever.” Bakura got up and disappeared. He came back and threw sleep clothes, a pillow, and a light blanket on top of Atem. “I’m sick of your emo bullshit. I’m going to sleep if you’re not going to play.”

Atem pushed the pillow off his face. “Is this you trying to get me to spend the night?”

“Fucking couch is free, but you can call an Uber if you want to go home. I’m not driving your morose ass anywhere tonight.”

With that, Bakura went to his own room. In the morning, he saw Atem sitting on the couch with his feet on the table and eating a bowl of Lucky Charms.

“Morning, bitch.” Bakura yawned and crashed beside him, grabbing the plate of cookies and resting it on his stomach.

“That’s not breakfast, Bakura.”

“It’s the goddamn breakfast of champions, what are you talking about?” Bakura crammed an entire lemon cookie into his mouth to prove his fucking point.

“Do you work tonight?” Atem asked.

“I’m the half-shift bitch tonight.”

“Want to swap? I close.”

“Are you going to go home and cry into your pillow?”

“No,” Atem said, then added. “Maybe.”

“Dammit, fine then. We can swap. I need the hours, I guess.”

“Thanks, Bakura.”

“Don’t thank me. You owe me next time I want to switch shifts.”

“I mean thanks for everything.”

“I guess I should wash our uniforms before we go in.” Bakura stood up and gathered up their clothes.

The next week went by smoothly for them, and by the next weekend Bakura and Atem found themselves back at Bakura’s place playing Duel Monsters. This time they played three games- Bakura won two and lost one. Atem grumbled, but he no longer referred to himself as a loser, so Bakura didn’t rib Atem too hard for the complaints.

The next week was the same routine. Working, school work, longer shifts on the weekend, but by Saturday they were back at Bakura’s playing card games. Atem won two and lost one.

“You’re getting back into your stride,” Bakura said as he gave the score sheet a death stare.

“Yeah, can’t say I’m over the break-up, but I’m over the woe-is-me phase of it at least.”

“Good.” Bakura gave Atem a snort. “You were acting like a total bitch.”

“Shut up.” Atem gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. They laughed a moment and then a heavy silence stretched over the room.

“Uh…” Bakura scratched the back of his head.

“W-want to do something else?” Atem asked. “Have any good movies?”

“I’m kinda a weeb,” Bakura confessed. “Most my shit is anime.”

“Well? Let’s watch something. I’m not tired yet.”

“Sure. Guess we’ll start with Dragon Ball. That’s a classic.”

They marathoned episodes until the first world tournament. As the show progressed, Bakura started becoming unusually aware of how close he and Atem sat. They’d always kept some distance during the card games, but now their shoulders brushed together and it was… strange. By sunrise, Bakura stumbled to his feet, stretching and yawning.

“Better get some sleep before work.”

He started to keep the blanket and pillow on the couch, and Atem had brought his own change of clothes, so Bakura went to sleep without further fanfare. That night at work, they were able to stagger their lunch breaks to have a fifteen minute overlap and tried to sneak a card game in- although it made Bakura late back from his lunch.

“Looks like I won.” Atem smirked.

“Fuck off, I have to go back before I get bitched at.”

“You close tonight, right?” Atem asked.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

“So?”

Atem traced a design on the little table they had in the back instead of a real break room.

“Um, well, I thought maybe I could come over again? Watch more Dragon Ball?”

“Sure.” Bakura shrugged. “But I have Lit at 8am Monday mornings, so I can’t stay up all night like last time.”

“Oh, need help with your homework or anything?”

“Bitch, I ain’t illiterate.” Bakura snorted in mock offense.

“Bitch, you sound illiterate,” Atem snapped back.

That night, as they watched TV together, Bakura was again acutely aware at their proximity. The next thing he knew, he felt hands shaking him awake.

“Bakura. Bakura, wake-up. Bakura, it’s 7am, get your lazy ass to class.”

“What?” Bakura rubbed his eyes, confused. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but his neck complained as if he’d been on the sofa all night.

“It’s morning. Go to class.”

“Fuck.” Bakura crawled into jeans and the first T-shirt he grabbed.

“Eat something,” Atem said.

“You ain’t my mom.” Bakura grabbed a Red Bull and tossed Atem his extra key. “Lock up before you leave.”

“Can I watch a few more episodes? Krillin died.”

“Knock yourself out.” Bakura waved as he took off to class.

He half expected Atem to be there when he returned, but the apartment was empty. Bakura stared at the couch, still trying to remember falling asleep. Had Atem stayed on the sofa with him the entire night? Bakura sniffed and went to take a shower before work.

He’d almost been… looking forward to it? He and Atem used to fight more than their fair share as co-workers. Atem followed every damn little rule and it drove Bakura nuts, but hey, Dragon Ball and stolen cookies and card games weren’t so bad with someone to chat with, so Bakura was looking forward to talking to Atem at work that night.

However, once he actually arrived, Atem seemed to be in a bad mood. He barked orders, snapped at everything Bakura did, and bitched him out for adding whipped cream to a drink that was no-whip. Maybe Bakura would have let it slide, but it was in front of the customers and Bakura was pissed off.

“What’s your problem?” Bakura hissed once their evening rush died down.

“You keep messing up. It’s slowing us down.”

“I’m messing up cuz you’re riding my ass, Atem.”

“Don’t blame me because you’re screwing up.”

“Fuck you.” Bakura stormed off, cleaning the lobby as an excuse to keep away from Atem.

He thought maybe they’d simmer down after the one bad night, but each night after that seemed worse than the one before. Saturday came and went, and neither Bakura nor Atem mentioned card games or anime and they drove home in separate cars.

For a full other week they were at each other’s throats. Finally, Bakura couldn’t take it anymore. He made sure their breaks overlapped again, and cornered Atem in the back.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Atem snorted and turned his head away from Bakura.

“You’ve had a beehive up your ass for over two weeks now. What’s up?”

“Why is everything always asses with you?”

“I like asses.” Bakura grinned.

“Well, kiss mine, then, and let me get back to my lunch break.”

“Not until I figure out what’s been riding you.”

“Stop with the innuendos, Bakura. They’re not funny.”

“I’m not making innuendos. You’re over analyzing what I’m saying.”

“You’re blaming me for everything!” Atem shouted.

“Everything?” Bakura raised a silver eyebrow. “Like, climate change, and orphans, and traffic jams? Or just your attitude problem?”

“I don’t have an attitude problem.”

“You’re acting weird as fuck, Atem.”

“Well.” Atem snorted, stepping into Bakura’s space. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“The hell? I’m not doing a damn thing!”

Next thing Bakura knew, Atem had him slammed against a shelf full of coffee beans. He braced himself for a punch, but felt Atem’s mouth smashing against his instead. Bakura hooked his fingers through Atem’s wild, multi-colored hair, but after finishing the kiss, he pushed them apart.

“Have you seriously been nagging me because you’re frustrated?” Bakura started laughing.

“Shut-up.” Atem’s complexion was dark, but just light enough that a bit of his blush showed through on his almond-colored cheeks.

“Tell you what.” Bakura untangled his fingers from Atem’s hair and instead grabbed Atem’s ass, pulling their bodies together. “Come over tonight and I can take care of that for you.”

“I-I have to go back to work.”

Bakura let Atem go, wondering if perhaps he had been too bold. The rest of the night was quiet and awkward, but after close Atem walked straight to Bakura car, glancing over his shoulder and giving Bakura a sly wink.

Bakura exhaled. One the one hand, he wanted to slap Atem for being so damn difficult, but on the other, his entire body was hot and eager at the thought of getting Atem between the sheets.

He drove fast, and he and Atem raced back to Bakura’s apartment. Bakura shoved Atem towards the bedroom, and then pushed Atem down onto the mattress. He tore his work clothes off and then helped Atem do the same.

Their mouths clashed together. They were too eager and making out with Atem was more an argument of lip placement than a romantic gesture. Bakura wasn’t going to complain, however. It was his first time, and it was fun, and his cock was throbbing so he scrambled across the bed to the nightstand where he kept a bottle of lube.

“Thought you never made it to a second date?” Atem chuckled. “So why do you have anal lube?”

“Because I jerk off.” Bakura winked.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of that, lately.” Atem snorted. “Please hurry.”

“Holy shit, his majesty said please. What an auspicious day.” Bakura greased up Atem’s asshole and popped a finger in right away.

“It’s been too long.” Atem moaned, tossing his head back. “Don’t take too long prepping.”

“You know I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, right?” Bakura laughed and added a second finger.

“Feels like you do,” Atem purred. Then his violet eyes grew round. “Wait, are you saying you’re a virgin?”

“Duh.” Bakura pulled his fingers away and coated his cock. “I already told you I don’t get along with people.”

“But… hook ups, and, and FWB’s?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have friends- with benefits or otherwise.”

“Damn, Bakura, you’re pathetic!”

“Really turning me on here.” Bakura glared at Atem.

“Sorry.” Atem shrugged.

Bakura blew out between his lips. “Who am I kidding? I’m hard as fuck right now.”

He maneuvered in between Atem’s legs and guided his cock to Atem’s asshole. He tried easing in, but couldn’t manage to get through until he used his hips to thrust forward. Atem sucked in a quick breath. Bakura looked at his face, trying to decide if it’d been pain or pleasure. Atem looked heated and his eyes were unfocused. Bakura figured it couldn’t be that bad with that hazy look on Atem’s face, so he eased up and pushed in again.

Atem whimpered with each thrust, but didn’t complain. Bakura watched his face. He thought Atem looked aroused, but wasn’t sure.

“Is this okay? Should I slow down?”

“S'good. Speed up.” Atem moaned. Bakura hitched his hips a little faster. Atem’s fingers clutched at the sheets and he tilted his head back.

“Better?” Bakura asked.

“Fuck yes. You’re… thicker. I like it.”

Bakura’s cheeks grew suddenly hot. The complement spurred him to thrust harder, letting himself relax a little and enjoy the tight suck of Atem’s flesh around his cock.

He leaned down and kissed Atem’s neck. Atem wrapped his left leg around Bakura’s waist. Bakura grabbed it and hooked it over his shoulder so he could get a better angle.

“Fuck! Fuck! Holy shit, Bakura!” Atem started screaming.

“Does it hurt?” Bakura slowed down.

“Don’t stop!” Atem screamed louder. “Harder! Please, God please! Please!”

A spasm tightened every muscle in Bakura’s body. He steadied his breath and focused on Atem’s face, trying not to think about how good each thrust felt. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last. Bakura closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feel of the sheets against his knees and not Atem’s body.

He went as fast as he could, going until sweat carved little trails down his brown-sugar colored skin. No matter how hard he tried to hold back, Atem’s curses and shouts were enough to make him want come.

Bakura’s silvery lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes. He saw Atem stroking himself and couldn’t last a second longer. Bakura rocked back and forth, leaning over Atem and staring at Atem’s face as he poured out into Atem’s ass. All the strength leached from Bakura’s body, but he forced himself to continue to move as Atem pulled on his own cock. Atem squealed and several bursts of come splashed against his tawny stomach.

“Holy shit,” Atem sighed. “That was good.”

“Hmmm.” Bakura grunted, collapsing beside Atem. His eyes lowered. He tried to keep them open, but he felt lost to the urge to sleep.

“A few weeks ago, you fell asleep on my shoulder,” Atem stared at the ceiling.

“Sorry,” Bakura muttered, still hazy and pleasant feeling from his orgasm.

“I started to comb your hair with my fingers, and you made this soft little coo sounds and then nuzzled against my chest and it was… so nice. It was so nice that I wrapped my arms around you and held you. I wanted to kiss you, and it scared me, so I waited until it was time to wake you up, finished the rest of Dragon Ball, and tried to ‘get over it,’ but the more I tried to push you away, the more I thought about you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I couldn’t help it. I was afraid that if we got close you’d leave me… yeah, I know that’s stupid.”

“No, I mean you’re an idiot for thinking that you’re done with Dragon Ball. We haven’t even started Dragon Ball Z yet.”

“Z?”

“Fuck, lemme sleep a bit, yeah? You’re about to learn all about Super Saiyans.” Bakura intentionally moved to Atem’s chest and used him as a pillow.

“Bakura…”

“If you’re still worried, you know I think you being a card-game playing nerd is your only good quality, right? I’m not going to dump you for that. Maybe for being a smug-self absorbed bitch, but not for being a nerd.”

“You goddamn bastard.” Atem sounded happy despite his word choice.

“You can comb my hair with your fingers if you want to.” Bakura grinned.

“Quit bossing me around,” Atem said, but he did comb Bakura’s hair.

It was a nicer feeling than Bakura would have guessed, and so was laying on Atem’s chest. He’d never been with anyone before, but he figured that, like sex, he’d just fumble his way through, and hopefully they’d move through it right until the end.

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