#if people can assign cards against humanity to these guys then i feel like this was just inevitable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dienamights · 3 years

Text

Unfavorable Guidance | H.Shinso

✎ Mindjack has been doing these kind of jobs since he was recruited as a hero, he is unmistakingly the best at them, doesn’t need anyone butting their noses in his business, especially you, the sly fox in disguise, offering your tainted helping hand.

✎ Protagonists: Hitoshi Shinso x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 6.4K

✎Category: noncon/dubcon, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

✎Caution(!): noncon/dubcon, Smut 18+ MDNI please, , mentions of alcohol, mentions of murder, minor character death, sex under quirk use, spitting, degrading, swearing, manipulation, unprotected sex.

✎ Author’s notes: I KNOW I’M LATE EUFGKHDFVBDFXL, but here is my contribution to @daisy-bakugo 2k event Vice City! Please take the time to read everyone’s work if you haven’t! Thank you so much for letting me participate.

I listened to this throughout the entire process of writing it, if you’re familiar with Kingdom Hearts, some names will ring a bell to you lol. also I hate the header and the summary but you’re just gonna have to live w it for now cause its 8 am I NEED SLEEP

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The annual auction of Vice City is one of the biggest social events of the year. The wealthiest families and richest people in the world come from everywhere in attempts to win what is secretly considered the greatest treasures of all time. Greatest and most expensive.

Alas, the after party held later on is what people are all secretly actually waiting for, where the most exquisite and rarest artifacts of the year get auctioned off to whoever is lucky enough to even be included in the guest list.

While not all are there for the auctions, it certainly is the perfect opportunity for anyone who's anyone in the world to show off their wealth. Filthy rich people sway all around, laughing and bragging. Venetian crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, gambling, and alcohol. Men with their cigars, men with their wives, and men with their arm candies, their escorts or mistresses.

Yet, Shinso isn’t here for the luxury, he isn't here for the fame and the fortune, nor the reputation people thrive for when they buy those - meaningless, he calls them - relics. No, he is here on a mission, one he certainly wants to be done and over with because he wants to go home. He loosens his tie with an aggravated sigh before knocking back the last of his only gin and tonic, the bitter taste prickling his throat as he surveys the crowd of people all around him while he stands idly by the bar.

He knew it’d be a pain in the ass the second he got the mission assigned to him from the agency, the words “intel” and “Vice City'' of all places forced a frown upon his face, yet, being the most suitable for this job, he couldn't really decline.

Mindjack isn’t the type of hero you see on billboards and magazines, isn’t the type of hero to kiss babies’ heads that get thrusted at him in meet and greets, he certainly isn’t one to have those adoring fan clubs that follow his every move, posting about his greatest conquests. Oh no, he is a hero that works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, undercover -lie through your teeth throughout the whole ordeal- kind of hero, the kind of hero that goes home at the end of his missions with no gratitude towards his work, because nobody knows who he is or what he contributes to the society.

For the longest time, Shinso accepted the life he’s living, he didn’t look for validation from the citizens, knowing his work is always beyond the scope of their knowledge and their awareness, but sometimes, just sometimes, the sour droplets of envy would foul his mouth when his amethysts for eyes scan over the extravagant heroes, making a show out of saving their cities and getting praised and awarded and loved for doing what they’re supposed to be doing, their job.

“Squeeze that glass a bit more and you’d break it”

A voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him, Shinso blinked twice before his eyes dragged over to you, oh so beautiful and oh so close. Your nimble fingers wrapped around his fingers, the lacey glove lightly scratches his hand before he lets go of the glass in surprise, dropping it into yours. You giggle sweetly, turning around to place it on the bar before ordering your own, but not without looking at him over your shoulder and sending him a smile.

“What will it be, sugar tits?” the bartender leans over the counter, towel thrown on his shoulder as he sends you what's supposed to be a sultry look. Your elbow is placed on the counter while you rest your chin on your hand, smiling temptingly at him. “Anything that’ll get you to stop staring at my boobs.” Shinso almost laughs at the contrast between your smile and your voice, sharp and venomous, and the man leans back so far from you like he’s been stung. Walking away to work on a drink for you.

Shinso’s eyes rake your body without his knowledge, he admires the dress adorning your body, hugging you in all the right places, cascading down to the floor, and that slit my god, your legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how you can strut so elegantly with them on. A snap of your fingers breaks his trance and he tries - keyword tries - to act nonchalant to his obvious ogling and you only laugh in return.

You hum lowly, “So,” you’re turning to face him as you lean back on the counter, pushing your chest out to grasp even more of his attention, “what's an esteemed hero like you doing in a place like this?” It takes Shinso a good minute before he narrows his eyes, left foot back and ready to either take you down or run away if you were to involve greater forces. No one is supposed to know about his true identity, no one is supposed to know that there is a hero within them.

But what shakes his demeanor is the way you dangle his wallet in front of him, like dangling a stupid feather for some silly cat, waiting for it to jump at you to entertain you. Shinso swallows with a struggle, deciding that using his quirk to retrieve his wallet back will lead to him leaving, and he didn’t want that. He’s been keeping an eye on the wanted man for hours now, and it’ll all go to waste because of your slimy little hands and your-

“Here,” you toss it back to him, and he stumbles a bit before catching it properly, eyeing you for any sudden movements, but you simply turn back around in time to hold the drink from the bartender’s hand with a smile dazzling your lips. “You’re getting intel on The Wise?” you mumble against your cup, sipping slowly, eyes never leaving Shinso’s glaring ones. How the fuck do you know?

“You’re not the first.” you smirk, finger wiping the smeared lipstick against the glass before circling the rim. “You all look the same, thinking you’re better than them because of your position in the society, only for that ego to come and bite you right in the ass.” It’s almost ironic how poisonous your voice could get while still maintaining that mesmerizing smile, and oddly enough, Shinso’s eyes keep drooping despite his desperate attempt to fight against them.

You hum again, the click of your heels sounding muffled to him, eyes blurring when you get so close to him your breath tickles his cheek. “But you’re different, hmm? You’re gonna make the bad guy go away?”

“Yes.” it's rushed, almost desperate, and the hero is astonished at how he sounds. “Then, lemme help you… Hitoshi.”

A blink, and you’re gone just like you vanished right from under his nose, slipped right between his fingers. A low curse escapes Shinso’s lips and he turns around swiftly to question the bartender, hell bent on getting any information on the girl that just revealed his entire identity and mission to him in a matter of seconds.

“How can I help you, sir?” the question boggles his mind, the big burly man with an attitude problem wasn’t there anymore, replaced by another sweet woman that held concern in her eyes at his sight. “You’ve been staring at the wall for a while there, need me to call your driver to get you back?”

“Wa- but I- She,” Shinso’s body started heating up in anger, worry, embarrassment, he doesn’t really know, but what he wants to know right this instant is how long he’s been out of it and for god’s sake, why?

Shinso doesn’t really consider himself to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but dammit did he feel like a complete idiot letting you run off like that, a quick trip to the restroom for a splash of water clears his head enough for him to pull back his wallet from his pocket, flipping through it and finding something he was absolutely sure wasn’t there prior to your visit. A silver card, with ‘Surveillance room’ scribbled on a note behind it.

Caving in and accepting whatever help you were offering him, Shinso slides the card through the reader, sighing in relief upon the satisfying ding sound, followed by the door opening to the surveillance room.

“Now that’s what’m talking about.” life got so much easier now that he could watch The Wise through multiple screens, making it hard to miss a single move of his. The hero allows himself to relax a bit, hand messing with his hair and tired eyes blinking in irritation against the glare of the screens. The Wise was the mastermind of Organization XIII, as their name intel, they’re consisting of the same thirteen members that founded it years ago, nobody really knows how they started, what shocked the whole world is how grand their first crime actually was, bloodbath of the century -they would call it, seventeen slaughtered heroes, followed by their families, including women and children, thousands of millions of ¥ in money laundering atop of it, all within a span of 4 months, that was years ago, back in their prime.

Now, with eight of them behind bars, the remaining five were able to stay under the radar, distributing whatever money they were able to keep between them and fleeing to different parts of the world. Just because they were apart, didn’t mean they were any less dangerous, The Wise is a prime example for that, brutally murdering three of the undercover heroes sent his way to bring him back to justice, but they weren’t Shinso, he’d try to remind himself.

May their soul rest in peace, they were those heroes he felt dissociated from, the type of heroes to flaunt their powers, monetize the peoples’ knowledge of their quirks, uncover the secrets of their job, they were easy targets for people like The Wise, he’d know their weaknesses and how to take them down before they even think about pursuing him. Now, Mindjack was a different story, he wasn’t held on a pedestal by the people he saves, simply because they don’t recognize him, while he would loath that reality sometimes, he thanks the god for it today, as he’s watching the man’s call out for a drink.

Amethyst eyes scan the remaining screens, widening upon the sight of you looking right back at them, you are a vixen to him, eyes half lidded with a smile so intoxicating it does nothing but entrance whoever was lucky enough to catch its sight. Lace clad fingers wrapping around a piece of paper, you are so beautiful, Shinso tries to stop his mind from wandering, imagining what you wore underneath that angel crafted dress, envisioning what those fingers could do to please him, the same fingers that held the unfolded paper, the word ‘RUN’ smeared across it in lipstick.

Wait a minute, run?

Even before the poor hero could react, the similar satisfying -now dreadful- ding rings in his ear, before the door opens behind him, illuminating the room even more. Shinso stands to face two men, both as surprised as he is to see another occupant in the room. Right before any of them move, the hero opens his mouth and prays to god that whatever way he’s winging it works. “You got a permit to be here?”

Jesus one of you answer, and they both do - the left having fingers curving into talons while the right pulled at strings from the tips of his fingers, both ready to attack - and by god Shinso couldn’t be happier upon hearing a sound, because the minute the word ‘yes’ slips through their lips, Mindjack is smiling like a madman, welcoming the look of glossy eyes and heavy heads like a beloved relative’s return back home.

“Great… Now,” the two manipulated men face him, unaware of the dreaded fate bestowed upon them, while Shinso just can’t seem to keep the glint in his eyes at bay. “Why don’t you put on a show for me,” he breathes, smiling down at the ground before looking at them. ”Choke the fucking life out of each other.” The men don’t even blink, quick to face each other and jump, hands wrapped around throats like a vice, Shinso only moves away from the men on the floor as they thrash and kick at each other, limbs flailing as they try to force the life out of each other.

Turning his back against them, Shinso eyes the screen he was monitoring before their entrance, ignoring the groans and gasps of air behind him. He curses under his breath when he sees The Wise getting up from his place, heading towards a room that is supposed to be monitored by screen #6, but is purposely out of service. If he isn’t able to question The Wise or even keep an eye on him, then he’s gonna head on over to the next best thing. Gargled screams echo through the corridor as the hero makes his exit, making sure the door clicks shut behind him, he wouldn’t want to cause disturbance to the esteemed guests of the society of lowlifes.

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, killing machines that didn’t spare the live of the innocents, so why should he spare theirs?

Shinso makes it back to the main event, immediately finding you between guests, sitting so pretty on the poker table, eyes drawing him closer, the grin adorning your lips now wobbly, easy for him to distinguish as fake, forced, a façade kept for the people surrounding the table. He is hasteful in settling himself in the chair near you, shoulders tense when different pairs of eyes fall upon him, the dealer shuffles the deck to draw cards for Shinso, but you hold your hand out with a smile. “He’ll sit this one out, by my lucky onlooker.” A round of laughter causes Shinso to flush in embarrassment, feeling degraded and looked down upon by all these lowlifes, petty thieves and criminals, thinking they’re better than him, oh he’ll show them.(1)

It takes a few rounds for the table to empty out, now occupied by Shinso and yourself, the dealer asks him to move over to the next chair before they start their game. “Place your bets.” you’re quick to slide over a few of your chips to his side - some black, others red and blue, he didn’t really pay that much attention to them- your eyes daring him to reject your invitation to take the money to play.

He only blinks at you, his eyes seemingly never wanting to lose sight of you as he fights with himself to sit straight to face the dealer again, the man proceeds to deal both of you the cards for you to review before placing your bets. “You tricked me.” Shinso is almost appalled at the hurt laced in his voice, as if the two of you had a bond that was never meant to be broken. “don’t believe so, told you to run didn’ I?” The mockery in your voice is a hoax, the single twitch in your brow catches his attention and he can only deem it as you being stressed, whether it be because of the ordeal regarding the surveillance room or not is beyond him. No, he was stupid and foolish and he will not fall for your silly games again. “Exactly, you knew they were coming.” you hum in response to his accusation.

“Call.” Dropping a few of your chips on the table, your eyes shift momentarily to him, “I did, I said I’d help you and here I am.” He slams his bet on the table, ‘Raise’ gritted right through his teeth at your words. “I don’t want your help!” He reveals his cards on the table, a way to show his disinterest in your assistance as the dealer announces ‘Flush’ at his hand. Your eyes meet again from above your cards, now narrowing down instead of the half lidded look you seem to always have “You don’t want it, but you need it.” The façade you held before is slowly but surely breaking, now a deep frown tugging at your lip as you reveal your own hand, brows furrowing even further in challenge as you hum in displeasure when the dealer announces your ‘Full House’ hand to be the winner of this round.(2)

Shinso moves swiftly to stand when he sees you do the same, right before his entire world starts to spin, lights and colors mingling together and causing his head to spin, he sits down again, head between his hands as he tries to calm himself down, it's probably the strain of the mission, maybe it’s the weight bestowed upon his shoulders to finish it up. The hero lifts his head up to ask you, about something he himself isn’t even sure of, he just wants to hear your voice, like a drug to him that he can’t help but ask for more. Except when he does, you aren’t there, the table is occupied by different people, the dealer is another man with longer hair and slimmer figure, and by god did Shinso want to rip his hair out.

The minute he feels like he could get back on his own to feet without falling down on his ass, Hitoshi is quick to check his pockets, adamant to find a clue your sneaky hands slid into one of his pockets while he was out, despite the tantrum he almost threw at not wanting your help nor guidance, and he does find something, a simple metal key, attached to it was a tag with the number XIII on it.

In his shock, he almost drops the key on the ground but barely holds himself together to avoid any further embarrassment, Shinso takes deep breaths, knowing that the key in his possession is his entry to the heart of the organization, and especially to The Wise.

Every year, specifically at the Vice City annual auction afterparty, The Wise holds a meeting with the most dangerous men within the continent, the most loathsome masterminds of the criminal world, all in the hopes of recruiting one of them into the organization, to uphold its name and spread its message. Every year, with no recruitment yet.

With trembling hands, Shinso stuffs the key back into his pocket, eyes on the lookout for anyone who might’ve caught the key in his hand, but sighs in relief when he sees some engrossed in their meaningless poker and absurd talks, while the majority have made their way to the next hall over for the auction that is being held. He takes the stairs three at a time up the floors, facing a red oak double door, the same forsaken number engraved into it. After multiple failed attempts at inserting the key in the lock, he finally does with a huff, hearing the lock echoing in his ears before pushing the door open.

To be honest, Shinso didn’t know what he was expecting to see on the other side of the door, he thought maybe he’d watch weaponry trade off, perhaps people brawling and fighting amongst each other for the title of being the new members. But he certainly didn’t expect to be engulfed in jazz music, men with their cigars laughing and chatting, without a single care in the world, as if their hands weren’t tainted with the blood of the innocents, oh how he loathed them. In an attempt to fit in, he grabs a glass of whiskey from the butler standing by the door, nodding to him in thanks before moseying his way over to the corner in the room, he’d be damned if he got caught in the crossfire of those lunatics.

A stage is set up in the front of the room, and it takes a second for him to acknowledge the pole placed right at its center, it takes him another few seconds to see the beauty dancing on that pole, Shinso’s eyes rake her body without his knowledge, he admires the lingerie adorning her body, hugging her in all the right places, garter snug against her thighs as she twirls, her legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how she can dance so elegantly with them on… wait a minute.

As if predicting the minute he realized it was you, you twirl to face him, lips pulled into a smile yet again, a giggle interrupting your humming as your body twists and turns on the pole. Shinso isn’t really sure how long he sits there captivated by your body, the only thing breaking his trance is the clap on his back and the heavy weight that sits next to him. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

Bile rises to Shinso’s throat at the mere sound of the person next to him, fear stills him in his place, restricting any movement he’s even thinking of doing, all he could do is sit, widened eyes and sweaty brows at the sight of The Wise right beside him.

“Don’cha love it when women like her,” The Wise points at you with his cigar, “work to please men like us?” His arm now completely wrapped around Shinso’s shoulder as the hero feels his soul levitating from his body. “Look aroun’ya,” and he does, and only then does he really pay attention, he should’ve seen it all along, the glossy eyes, the droopy heads, it's a sight he was so well accustomed to that his brain normalized it to him. With whatever courage he musters up, he shifts his eyes to look at the man beside him, noticing the ear plugs he wore, and right then the gears start to turn in his head. “My most prized possession I tell’ya.”

Of course you would be, how else would you have access to all these things, the card, the key, the vanishing from thin air, it all makes sense now.

“Enjoying yourselves, gentlemen?” your words are flowing like honey to his ears, a low buzz ringing in his brain as you spoke to the men in front of you. His ability to frown is nonexistent, a relaxed look adorning his face as he looks up at you, so elegant and beautiful in whatever hugged that miracle of a body.

“Sure are,” The Wise jerks Shinso by the shoulder, and he realizes that was done to break whatever trance he was in, he could only glare back at you when you smile at them, that conniving smile that hosted all the lies you spouted to him.

“y/n,” He calls you and by God if this isn’t the most beautiful name Shinso ever hears, what a shame it's being tainted by the voice of this criminal. “Wadda ya say to takin’ this fine boy to the red room, hm?” The man urges him to stand and take your hand, which he did at the blink of an eye, his body moving on it’s own to graze his lips against your knuckles in a breathless kiss. “Treat’m real nice for me.” The hero’s feet take him to follow you, his steps light, like walking on clouds, the sway of your hips pulling him closer to you until his chest is flush against your back, pushing you to move faster into the room you are pointed towards.

Walking aimlessly through hallways, taking lefts and rights he would never be able to recollect in his current state, you both enter a room, red just like The Wise called it, crimson silk sheets fitted on a king sized bed, maroon loveseats and plush carpets, everything in that red hue that it's almost nauseating.

Bringing your hands in a loud clap, the fogginess in Shinso’s vision dissolves, your creased brows and frown now more prominent to him than ever, his eyes catch the scar trailing from the back of your neck to your cleavage, confused as to why his usual perceptive self would miss it, but then again, he doesn’t feel like he was ever himself throughout this whole ordeal.

To say he was furious is an understatement, he never felt more played in his life, he is Mindjack, the most conniving hero of all of Japan, he was manipulative and sly , known by his people to get jobs done, no matter who his opponent is, he always comes back victorious. And when his ears pick up your sigh of relief, he could only see red, he is hurt, he is scared, but now its his act, his turn to fuck shit up, he wants to hurt, he wants to scare.

“Fuckin’ lying bitch,” It takes him all but two steps for his body to graze yours, tantalizing eyes boring down into yours as you gasp at the close proximity, “you were workin’ with’em this entire fuckin’ time?”

“N-no that’s not it,” you stutter, flustered at his overwhelming presence, trying to put some distance between you and the fuming man by pushing his chest, “Please, I need you to listen to me.”

“Oh, now you’re beggin’ hmm?” his firm warm hands circle your wrists, tugging them away from his body and using them to pull you even closer to him, his breath now grazing the tops of your cheeks, “Didn’t your boss tell you to treat me right?” he breathes, “well, get to it, slut.”

“That’s not what this is Hitoshi, just listen-” for the love of all that’s pure in this world, why does the sound of his name exceed his perception of how happiness is supposed to reverberate in his ear? “Keep my name outta your mouth, or I swear,” He hisses at you, the grip on your wrists tightening as you whimper out in pain.

“You think you can just toy with me? Have me running around and following your orders like a lil bitch!?” He sees you trembling, lips wobbly and in tears, how ironic, he doesn’t know a few words would get you to start tearing up, the change in demeanor from when he first met you confuses him for a second, but only a second, because he’ll be damned if he falls for any of your tricks anymore. “N-no, I swear it isn’t like that, just p-please, please c-calm down! Let me explain myself-” the ugly cackle he lets out shuts you up, teary eyes widening as they fall on his, the aura he’s radiating is terrifying to say the least, your knees shaking in dread at what’s about to fold.

“You think you can play my game and win?”

It takes you a minute to answer, the word no echoing in your head, throbbing in your brain so painfully you forget the words that follow it, but what you can’t forget, what you will never forget, no matter how delirious you feel, is the look of pure sin across Shinso’s face, grin rivaling that of the Cheshire cat, because you were now simply a measly little pawn in his game.

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, criminals that broke every law in their way to get what they desire, so why couldn’t he indulge even a little himself?

He lets go of your wrists, watching as your arms sway next to your body like dead weight before he turns around to flop down on the loveseat, legs spread wide as he waves his hand over to you.

“Waddaya waitin’ for,” he knows you can’t answer him, but it feels so fucking good to hold such power over you after all you’ve put him through. “Now, strip.” the surge of power he feels jolts his dick up in excitement as he watches you take off your lingerie, moves robotic and forced, eyes glazed over both with tears and his control over your dumb little brain. Hitoshi is no villain, he is a respectable hero, but he’s been called that all his childhood, he might as well live up to that expectation, one way or another.

Shinso stands when you’re fully naked in front of him, long legs circling you and taking you all in, the back of his hand grazes your nipple and he all but groans as it pebbles at his touch. But god, he was nowhere near being done with you.

“Spread your legs for me on that bed,” he grins at the way you follow his orders even before he asks, “will ya?” you settle yourself on the bed before slowly dropping your weight on your back, hazy eyes staring up into the ceiling as your arms bring themselves down to circle the back of your knees, pulling them up close to your chest to expose yourself to him.

Shinso’s cock twitches in his pants again at the opportunity to just seath it into you without any warning, but he barely holds himself back, approaching your body and feeling himself salivating at the sight, what a sight it is, your pussy looking so fucking beautiful clenching over nothing, the sight tempting him to just dive his face right in to get a taste of your juices.

Taking off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt, Shinso presses his thumb to your clit, frowning when he notices how dry you are, of course you would be, he chuckles to no one, puckering his lip to spit right at the nub, watching it trail down to your clenching hole, the sight igniting a flame within him, he does it again, simply to watch your spit hide in your cunt, impatient to follow suit and bury himself in there.

His thumb is quick to draw circles with your clit, needing for your orgasm to wash over you quickly, eager for the things he’d do to you after he preps you enough to take him. The usual comforting silence is thick between you, no moans escaping your ajar mouth as your arousal seeps out of your pussy, he prods your hole with his finger to collect your nectar, smearing it across your clit again to rub even faster against it.

The only indication of you coming undone is when your thighs start to shake, your body curling in on itself as your back arches, your cunt gushing on his fingers, and Shinso is almost disappointed to not hear you moan out his name in pleasure. But he isn’t that disheartened, he’s bound to hear you scream.

You on the other hand, are petrified at the way your body is being handled, feeling yourself looking down at the horror being folded in front of you, this isn’t you, this is a shell of who you are, wrapped around his finger, at his mercy, and you want out, no matter the cost. But, you are to regret these words, because you see him unbuckling his belt, you hear the zipper drilling in your ear, and you watch him lay atop you, feeling your lungs constrict at the weight settling upon it, and to your utmost terror, the only thing that breaks his bind on you is when you feel his warm head prodding at your entrance, right before seething completely in, your throat prickling when you wail hoarsely in pain at feeling like being split into two.

“No, nonononon, st-stop please, please!” You’re crying, legs thrashing and arms flailing trying to push this monster off of you, but you can’t, you think as your walls pulsate in pain at the intrusion, you’ll never be able to with him placing his entire weight on you like that, and the way he pulls out before impaling you again has you seeing stars in the worst way possible. Desperate for an escape, you grab a chuck of his hair, your nails digging into his scalp before you yank, your jaw throbbing at how tight you clench your teeth in pain and disgust and pure panic. The strength you muster to pull his head up is in vain, because it only jerks his face deeper into your neck, right where your scar trails, and he bites, so hard you’re certain it draws blood.

Only then does he lift his head up, his upper lip smeared with a smidge of blood, your blood, before he spits right into your mouth. Sick to your stomach at the metallic taste invading your taste buds, you spit right up at him, mindless to the debris falling right back at your face, your mascara running down your cheeks as you sneer up at him. Even as he laughs teasingly at you.

“Don’t worry slut,” He rasps, his nose brushing against yours as his thrusts find a pace, pulling out to the tip before pushing himself fully inside, “It’ll feel good in a minute.” and it does, he feels more of your arousal coating his cock as he snaps his hips against yours, your wails and whimpers slowly yet surely are coated more with lust as you moan out his name. “See tha’, almost too easy…” almost too good to be true.

And it is, because when his eyes struggle to find yours, he is reminded by the feeling that overtook him this entire evening, and when he sees the corner of your lips pull lightly does he want to rip your head right out, but the minute he moves his hand, he is overwhelmed by how wobbly he feels, how your face distorts and misshapes before he is met with the sight of the ceiling, the sight you grew accustomed to when he was taking advantage of your unconsciousness.

He groans when he feels you impaling yourself on his cock, pussy clenching so tight as you bop yourself up and down his shaft, your tits bouncing with you as he looks up at you, so mesmerized and entranced by your beauty all he does is hold your hips, helping you lift yourself up before dropping you on him, the squelching sound that follows it music to his ears.

You plant your hands against his chest, hips rolling as you pant at his lips, both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other and chasing your highs, “You gonna listen to me, when I ask you to?” His hand claps against your ass at your question, “Yes, yes oh God, anythin’ just don’t stop.” He can’t help but want more of you, want to feel his cock push against you even further, so he plants his feet firm against the bed, hand grabbing handfuls of your ass as he starts thrusting up at you, moaning against your neck when he shoots ropes of his cum inside of your sopping cunt, squeezing him so tight and milking him, and all of what Shinso remembers is the way you arch your back, pressing your chest against his as your whimper out his name, as he feels your juices dripping against his balls and down on the sheets beneath you. After that, all he could see was black.

Shinso awakes startled, eyes darting in alarm before he relaxes when he confirms he’s alone, the red silky sheets now draped over his lower body, pooling at his lap when he sits up to look around once more, desperate for any sign of you. Yet he only sees a brown folder on top of the love seat, impressively thick with the amount of papers stacked inside it, and when Shinso reaches for it, he catches the note that slipped off and draped down on the floor, reading it and scowling at it. ‘You promised you’d listen’

And boy is he more than lucky to listen to you when you asked him to. Because that folder has every tiny little detail he needs to know about The Wise, from the quirks of his circulating bodyguards to the keys to his multiple homes within the world. Pictures upon pictures of the man, decoded letters and basically intel on his entire criminal record.

Fucking finally, Shinso gets to just go home no that everything’s over and done with.

Limited Edition Sneak Peek:

It is way too early for Shinso, the sun glaring at him as he makes his way into the agency, the honking cars and chattering people feeding into his migraine so early in the morning, and he groans as he pushes his door open, ready to get back to his regular routine after the incident at Vice City.

It hasn’t been even a week, but it sure was eventful, using the folder you left him, Mindjack was able to capture The Wise the very next day, via the map of the routes he takes that was attached in the folder. They were able to ambush him, easily being able to bring the right heroes for the job to overcome the quirks of both his workers and himself. Now the mastermind of Organization XIII was behind bars, making the job of catching the remaining members now much easier.

It almost felt like child’s play, at least, that’s what the heroes made it out to be, flexing their powers and their potential, when they were well aware that all their efforts would’ve been in vain if you and your folder weren't there to aid them in every step.

To say that guilt ate him up is an understatement, he feels himself decaying from the inside out from resentment, he figures he spent too much time in the dark, that it started to mess with him, manipulate him, carve him into someone he isn’t, someone that isn’t fit to be a hero. He feels like was walking into a tunnel with no way out, engulfed and trapped in pure merciless darkness, that ate away at his soul every step he took further in.

Shinso trudges up the stairs with a heavy heart, the dread at what he did to you, especially that your intent to help him didn’t waver despite his actions loomed over him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt like he didn’t deserve the life that he’s living in right now.

Yet, the saying ‘there's a light at the end of the tunnel’ rings in his ear, the minute he opens up the door to his office, eyes widening at the sight before him, smile so dazzlingly sweet, a voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him as the words captivated him despite their simplicity.

“Missed me, Hitoshi?”

(1) its common in poker for women to be onlookers, like the wives of the players for example, the jab at him being an onlooker is basically just a sexist joke to make the people around the table laugh to ease their mind.

(2) to help gain more perspective about the poker scene you can read the elaboration here

Aaaand more about the reader’s quirk here!

Hope you enjoyed! Also, PLEASE if you could theorize with me after reading the fic I’d love you forever, ask me about the reader’s quirk, ask me about some hidden meanings between the scenes JUST ANYTHING. MWAH

Borrowers (taglist):

@hanji-is-life @anarchicmartyr @sleepykyan @yourprincess-maybe @wolfygirl1900 @tteokdoroki

@theehoneybunii @nanamisbento (not sure if you wanted to be tagged for bakuhoe only of all my fics, so sorry if its the former!)

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

948 notes · View notes

allywritesforfun · 3 years

Note

Uhhh, a part 2 of the AweSamDude story. I don't know, maybe the court case would be cool! If requests arent open, then ignore them

um yes! I have wanted to make a part 2 for so long but had no clue where to start and this just makes perfect sense!

{Locked Up Heart pt 2} irl!warden!awesamdude x Reader

pronouns: were originally not mentioned, but now are she/they

word count: 2987

trigger warnings: mention/talk of rape and murder, court cases, somewhat angsty

a/n: the law I mentioned is a real law but I can't remember what the law is actually called so roll with it

part one

masterlist

You stared at yourself in the body mirror. You haven't seen yourself look like this in years. All dressed up and ready to impress. You wore a gorgeous black suit with a purple inside along with sleek black pants. You looked into the body mirror, admiring yourself.

Sam let you live with him “until you could find your own place” but neither of you had intentions of leaving. You looked at apartments once online, but you knew with this on your record that you were going nowhere but some run down ghetto, and Sam knew that too.

He knew that you would be able to take care of yourself there, he wasn't scared for your safety or any of that. He was scared that you wouldn't be able to support yourself. Finding a job was hard, all that there was these days for someone like you was online surveys that were not reliable.

Staying with Sam was the best of the both of you. He has been without a roommate for years now. He felt less alone with you being there. The first couple nights were awkward. You slept on the pull out couch and didn't have much clothes. You felt terrible about the amount of washes you did, but eventually you started to get more comfortable with Sam.

The first sign of progression was when he offered you his sweatshirt instead of a blanket. It was a sweet gesture, you gladly took it. Later that night instead of returning it, you cuddled it to sleep. Now, its your version of a teddy bear. Nice and warm and flourished with Sam’s scent.

You only started sleeping in his bed with him a week ago. It was a purposeful accident. He offered to watch tv in his room since you two deep cleaned the couch. You've planned on falling asleep on him, but you didn't plan for it to be that day.

It was the best feeling in the world: waking up to being wrapped around and held tight and safe. You must've laid there when you woke up for an hour before Sam got up. You pretended to be asleep so that you could play the innocent girl card. It worked.

You felt a pair of large hands caress your waist. You jumped and had a little fear-induced hiccup.

“Sorry!” Sam took his hands off and backed away. “I’m still getting used to sensitive areas.”

You two have been working on okay areas to touch. You taught yourself to be extra alert while in the prison and certain touches trigger your reflexes and others cause panic, like hips.

Because of your high murder count, you were sent to the normal prison, the non-all woman prison. It wasn't the worst in the world. You only saw males during eating times, but it was common to get grabbed like that. It happened to every single female, every eating hour. The guards did nothing about it, not that they really could.

Sam has seen it before, not you, but to other women. He had an idea of areas to stay away from, but he is such an affectionate guy and sometimes he forgets.

“You’re okay, Sam. The more you do it, the more comfortable I’ll get with it,” You explained.

Sam was so good to you. He’s helped you through it all. Everything that you needed to heal, he gave to you.

“Well then maybe after the trial we can get some practice in...” He swooned.

You chuckled, “If we win. There’s a chance I won't come back here tonight. I’m lucky enough that they gave me stay at home orders in the meantime.”

He nodded, “We’re gonna win.” He kissed your cheek, “How could anyone that looks as scrumptious as you right now lose? There is no way. We have the evidence, and we have your perfect prison record. Not a single misdemeanor! They might not drop all chargers but you’re coming home tonight.”

“Home?” You questioned.

You've avoided that word for the longest time. You always said ‘the house’ or ‘your place’. Not because you didn’t want this to be your home, not the exact opposite. You wanted this to be forever home, but you never wanted to overstay your welcome.

“Yes home,” Sam laughed. “Why wouldn’t this be home... you feel safe here don’t you?”

“I do!” You exclaimed, waving your hands back and forth in denial. “I just didn't realize you wanted this to be my home.”

Sam offered his hand out to you; you gladly took it. His soft hand gently squeezed yours as he pulled you slowly into him, embracing you, “Of course I want this to be your home. I couldn't imagine anywhere else I would want you to be. This never felt like home to me, until you came home with me.”

You breathed in his scent, instantly relaxing into him, “I like it here. A lot.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, “Now have that same attitude in court, we got to go.”

The court room was filled, more than you expected. You looked around, not recognizing a single face except for a few prison guards who were testifying on both sides. You noticed the media set it up in the back. Your story hit the news faster than expected. You did have a great story: warden falls in love with murder.

“Hands out,” The officer directed.

You obliged. You opposed no threat to anyone and no intentions too, but if putting you in handcuffs made them feel better, then handcuffs it was. You looked back at Sam as the cold metal locked around your wrists. He replied with a frown, which quickly turned into an encouraging smile.

His bipolarness was the vibe right now. You noticed people having a hard time deciding where to sit. There were a lot of people on both sides, but no family members of yours. You gave up on them a long time ago when you noticed they weren’t writing letters and ignoring your calls.

You didn't need them, all you needed was Sam. You have everything you want right now, except for freedom.

“All rise!”

You stood up from the wooden bench. The judge walked in wearing the classic black gown and had a book in his hands. He nodded at a few of his guards before taking a seat. He opened up his book and looked around the room, landing on you.

“Good afternoon everyone, and there are a lot of you,” His voice was so deep that it bounced against the walls, making an eerie echo. “Calling the case of State Prison vs y/n. Are both sides ready?”

The representative of the prison and your lawyer both replied with a yes. The jury then stood and raised their right hand and made their oath, returning to the bench.

The representative stood up and gave their opening statement: “Ladies and gentleman of the court, Your Honor, the Jury. You will find that the defendant has been charged with four accounts of murder and convicted by confession. The defendant has taken accountability for all the murders committed and has given detail about how she killed those four men. It is ridiculous that we are here in court today deciding if we can release a serial killer back into the public. With a strong motive to kill, there is no reason why the defendant should be let back into the public eye.”

Serial killer. That is what you are. No one has ever said it that way, but he was absolutely right. You fit the definition perfectly, you had a type and more than three victims. It already wasn't looking good for you.

Your lawyer took center stage, “A martyr is the perfect word to describe the defendant. They have given their life to the state to save the lives of many to come. The strength that my client displays and ownership prove that although they are guilty of the crimes, they are still human and deserve a second chance.”

The judge called you to take the stand. You sat down after taking your oath and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

“Miss l/n,” He started. “Today you are trying to get your case dismissed after confessing to your crimes. That is very interesting. Let’s go back to before the crimes were committed, what were you thinking, what were you doing in your life at the time?”

You shook your head, “Many years ago I was an activist. I enjoyed speaking to the public about issues facing the community and the world at the time. If I wasn't outside with a sign, I was inside posting on social media. I was in college, I was studying Political Science.”

“And what were you planning on doing with the major?”

You paused. It’s been so long that you had a hard time remembering why you wanted to study and what career you wanted, “I was planning on becoming a political journalist, Your Honor.”

He shuffled around his papers, “I’ve looked at your latest credit that you were working on. It was a Sociology class. Do you remember what topic you were discussing in class?”

You nodded, “Rape. The number of rapes in a year and the number of rapists convicted was the last assignment I was working on.”

You remember that assignment like it was yesterday. That one assignment got you so worked up and so mad at the world, that you just had to do something. There was no way that you couldn't. Women’s voices were being ignored and cases rose every day; repeat offenders increased everyday.

“Now to my understanding all the men that you murdered were accused of rape.”

You nodded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“The attorney may ask questions to Miss l/n.”

The attorney stood up and adjusted your jacket, “Miss l/n, did any of those men physically harm you?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“So you took advantage of the fact that you were young to persuade the men into being alone with you just to kill them?”

You shook your head, “No, I didn’t persuade them at all. All of them suggested going back to their place.”

“But you did stalk them to find out where they were going?”

“No,” You answered. “They had their location public on their phone. All I did was look up their name and I knew where they were.”

“So these men did nothing to you at all except invite you over to their house. And you accepted the offer under no influence or threat. You killed four innocent men and you want to be let back out on the streets? This woman is a danger to society. She seeks out innocent men to end their life for no reason.” He nodded his head and went back to his desk, looking at his notes. He looked back at you and nodded, “That will conclude my questioning.”

You looked back at your lawyer, they gave you back a look of relief. Then you searched the crowd for Sam. Once you found him he gave you a thumbs up. It seemed like you were already on top of the case.

“Miss y/n,” Your lawyer started. “We all know that you killed those men, but why?”

“They raped multiple women. When brought to court, they were given a light sentence and did not do proper justice to the woman. These woman went day to day fearing for their life that they ever spoke out about the terrible things that happened to them. I couldn't let myself live knowing that there was a reason for women to be scared because their government had failed them.”

“Those women were scared? Why were they scared?” “Because they feared that they would get raped again. All of those men were repeat offenders. They would only take more victims and never be punished.”

“So you killed those men to prevent others from being hurt with evidence that it would happen again.”

You nodded, “I would never hurt anyone that had no intentions of causing harm.”

“Miss l/n just described public defense. Under the public defense law, anyone can defend the public with reasonable cause. It’s like self-defense, but for others. She shouldn’t have been committed in the first place. If those men were still alive, they would have kept raping until they were killed. Miss y/n saved lives. That concludes my questioning.”

You were dismissed from the stand and went back by your lawyer. They smiled at you, knowing that with that alone, they had won the case.

The attorney called Sam to the stand; he took his oath and sat down.

“So, Sam. You were the warden in charge of the wing that Miss y/n was being held in?”

“Yes.”

“That prison is a tough place to be, she must’ve fussed around a lot.”

Sam shook his head, “Not one bit. She does not have a single complaint against her. Everything that was asked of her, she did with speed and efficiency. She didn't have one lash out in her time.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Like I said, not one complaint.”

“To my understanding you have a relationship with Miss l/n, is that correct?”

“Objection!” Your lawyer yelled. “Irrelevant to the case. Sam was called because of his position and his professional opinion, not his personal life.”

“Sustained.”

“That concludes my questioning.”

Your lawyer stood up and nodded. You could feel that they were about to lay down the last blow.

“Sam, did this prison have any rapists?”

He nodded, “All kinds of rapists, of all ages and target groups.”

“Did Miss l/n ever have contact with these rapists?”

“Yes. Most of the time during eating hours and the occasional passing in the hall.”

“And how did that interaction go?”

“Miss l/n was given a hard time by these rapists. While waiting in line she was often sexually grabbed. During passing she was cat called and teased at.”

“And what was here response to the sexual assault?”

“Stone faced, emotionless. Every time it happened it amazed me how she would just stand there and wait to be given a direction. The most reaction she’s ever had was lightly shuffling her body to get them off, but she never lunged or reached at them.”

“And what did the other guards do when they noticed this behavior?”

“Nothing. Sometimes they yelled if it was getting close to rape, but overall nothing. We were under instructions not to react because in the past it only caused encouragement of the assault. Prisoners love any excuse to fight a guard,” Sam looked over at you. “I am so sorry that there was nothing I could’ve done. Everyday I watched as you were touched and I wanted to give it to them, I wanted to make sure that I would see them every day of their life, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk hurting you more.”

You smiled, almost tearing up at his words, but you kept yourself composed with a small sniffle.

“The main concern of Miss y/n going back into the public is that she will kill again. As said by her and concluded by a court, she only killed rapists,” Your lawyer pointed out. “As stated by the warden in charge of looking over her, she had the opportunity to kill. She had the opportunity to hurt them, but she never took it. Even after being sexually assaulted, she still kept to herself. This is undeniable evidence that Miss y/n is a changed woman. In her file it is stated that she did more than required community service and went above and beyond with helping other cellmates. Her actions within the prison prove that she is a well-rounded and caring individual. She has changed her ways and is ready to go back into the world. She did justice to the world and it is time for the world to her justice.”

You waited anxiously for over an hour to find out what the jury had decided. You and your lawyer talked about possible outcomes. They told you the sooner they made the decision, the better chances that you had. You had no error in your case and said everything that you wanted to say. The opposing side’s evidence was all proven false.

You got called back into the court, the jury had made their final decision. You rose for the judge and took a seat when prompted. You could feel your leg bouncing.

“In the case of the State Prison vs l/n...” the judge started. You looked over your shoulder at Sam. He had his hands placed in a praying position with his head resting against them. “Miss y/n is found not guilty of all charges and her remaining sentence will be dismissed. She will compensated for her time falsely spent in prison plus be rewarded another trial for her sexual assault. This case is adjourned.”

You could feel emotion flood through you. Pure happiness and joy leaked from your eyes. You tilted your head back in relief and squeezed at your heart. All of these years of the bullshit you put up with was all worth it. You hugged your lawyer and thanked them up and down, the emotion so strong in you that you almost dropped to your knees. You were caught by familiar hands: Sam. Sam pulled you up and into him. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. He calmed down for a second to lock eyes with you. He couldn't help but smile and cry with you. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple deep and meaningful kiss that said all the words that he wanted to say.

“I’m coming home!”

#awesamdude #awesamedude x reader #x reader #warden #prison #warden!sam #irl #fluff #angst #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt oneshot #oneshot #awesamdude oneshot #awesamdude imagine #imagine #mcyt imagine

158 notes · View notes

mrpenguinpants · 4 years

Text

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

---

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

---

Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

1K notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

soft nekoma sleepover

Nekoma x Reader - Sleepover Headcanons

a/n: the Nekoma portion of my soft sleepover series :,,) my friends and i have had rough weeks so far and i thought this would be a sweeter way to cope <33

warnings: none!

wc: 1280

---

you’ve always been such a strong person

whether you’d had a rough week full of assignments and exams or there was tension with your family/friends, you would always manage to hold your head up high and push through it all with a convincing smile on your face

but this past week finally pushed you over your limits

as you walked into Nekoma’s volleyball practice that Friday afternoon, manager’s clipboard in hand, you tried to keep up your usual peppy expression on

...but the smile refuses to reach your eyes

Yaku greets you warmly, expecting a big grin and a soft hug from you, but all you could do was ruffle his hair and walk quickly to your seat, holding in tears of frustration

this threw him for a loop and Yaku definitely asks you what’s wrong and if Lev did anything to upset you because, and i quote,

“I will fight him right here, right now. Just say the word.”

you just shake your head and stand up to give him a quick, wordless hug, which only leaves him more confused?? because he wants to fix this and you’re being really quiet??

Kenma then notices your gloomy presence and mentions it to Kuroo who’s eyes snapped your way quizzically

you were clearly upset and, if they weren’t completely mistaken, you looked like you’d been… crying?

Kuroo wasn’t having it at all bc you, of all people, deserve to be happy & smiling

he calls the boys in for a huddle but Kuroo asks you to wait on the bench with that trademark sneaky smile on his face

as they all converse, you see heads pop up and turn around to glance at you, Lev and Yamamoto’s concerned expressions making it obvious that you were the topic of conversation

it became clear that, even without words, your misery hadn’t escaped them… you couldn’t decide whether it was a blessing or a curse

“Alright!” Kuroo’s volume gains your attention

everyone turns to you and you feel as though you’re shrinking under their gazes

“We have a proposition for you, Y/n…” Kenma explains quietly

“More like a demand, but whatever you say Kenma.” Kuroo cuts in, with a slight drawl

“How about you come over to my place tonight? We’ve not had a team sleepover since our last training camp and none of us are busy tonight.” the quiet setter finishes

Kenma sounds reluctant, his eyes shifting from the floor to the wall, avoiding your gaze as much as possible

yet one glance over to you reminds him why he’s offering up his precious Friday night

a real smile graces your previously downcast face, which makes all the boys go silent in awe of what a simple sleepover suggestion could do

now cut to Kenma’s house where he has two consoles of Mario Kart already set up bc it’s the only game that everyone on the team knows how to play

you get there last, much to your own dismay, because you had hoped to feel more settled before interacting with all of the boys again

just before you walked in, Inuoka made sure that everyone was smiling, welcoming, and that there’d be no fights (@ Yaku)

and the team agreed that tonight was all about you: their precious manager who really needed some encouragement and fun in their life

the moment you set foot inside, you’re met with cheery faces, bowls of popcorn, “cards against humanity” on the table, and a spot on the sofa (that you have to assume is meant just for you)

everybody looks SO DAMN COMFY:

Kai, Kuroo, Lev and Fukunaga are in name brand sweatpants and soft t-shirts, Shibayama, Inuoka, and Yaku are in clean workout shorts, Kenma is in a trendy sweatshirt and the rest of him is covered by a weighted blanket, and Yamamoto & Teshiro are in their volleyball uniforms from earlier (ew)

you get a quick nod and a brief smile from Kenma (basically Kenma was never meant to be a Professional Host™), but the rest of the boys are ✨Beaming✨ as you look them over

and your heart swells because this is exactly what you needed. to be in the presence of these sweet, granted kinda sweaty, guys where there were no goals or deadlines to be met

Kuroo’s grin quickly catches your eye and he pats the open couch seat next to him

and conversations take off smoothly and sweetly, the airspace full of friendly taunts, crude jokes, and screams from Lev’s being hit by 3 blue shells in a single game of Mario Kart

after several hours of you beating their asses with Princess Peach on Rainbow Road, everyone ends up splayed out across each other for the sake of comfort

your head found its way to Kuroo’s lap (the two of you being both third years, classmates, and close friends) and his hands move to give you a much needed scalp massage

you feel the weight of the world melt off your shoulders. it’s like one night was all you needed to clear your head and at least help you back onto your feet

with your legs dangling off the arm of the couch, Kuroo’s hand now just gently stroking your arm, you decide to thank them for tonight as best you could, because you’ve not felt this happy in what seems like months

“I just want to let you kids know that you’re all the best.” you cut through everyone’s conversations, voice resting on their ears for a moment

“And, uh, not to be disgustingly cheesy… but I really love you guys.”

you cover your eyes, acting as though you were embarrassed, but in reality you feel tears threatening to spill out

Kuroo’s expression falls for a moment, because he’s not stupid and can tell you’re still processing everything

so he simply lifts your hands off of your eyes and you, with a perfect tear skimming the side of your face, can’t help but let out a soft, relieved laugh

it’s silent for a second, but Kuroo just smiles & opens his mouth to say something

but he’s interrupted by some rude-ass kids (Yamamoto & Inuoka) shouting out their love for you and rushing over to smother you in tearful hugs

you’re saved by Yaku, who’s grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts, stopping them in their emotional, hug-giving tracks

but your giggles continue, now laughing at all their surprised expressions and Kuroo’s peeved one from getting cut-off

so you hop up off the couch, place your hands on your hips and allow their eyes to rest on you before swinging your arms open wide with the sweetest, most genuine smile you can muster

“Well, are y’all gonna come hug me, or should I just go now?”

queue a small stampede of boys tackling you (gently) to the floor, laughter bubbling from every mouth, and warmth that spreads from the outside, in

in between the chuckles, shoves, and “get off of me’s” you hear a phrase tumble out of Kenma’s mouth

“We love you too, y/n.”

it was supposed to be unheard, lost in the tumbling around you, but those three words then took traction in individual ways with different boys

“We love you!”

“I love ya.”

“You’re kinda okay, I guess...”

“Marry me, y/n!”

“Shut up, Yamamoto!”

you would always have a place with them, no matter how bad things got and no matter what anyone said about you

because whenever you needed them, they’d be sure to show up, just as you’d do for them

---

soft team sleepover series

soft shiratorizawa sleepover

soft karasuno sleepover

soft seijoh sleepover

soft fukurodani sleepover

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @kit-tea, @theworldupthere, @sugasugawarau, @star-puff, @akaashisupremacy

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list - blogs in bold could not be tagged)

1K notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

426 notes · View notes

itsallyscorner · 4 years

Note

obvius w sebastian bc hes my baby. Seb's pov? fluff fluff

Hehehe Obvious is such a cute song🥺 I hope you like it and thank you for being patient!❤️❤️

Also just realized you said you wanted it in Seb’s pov, I totally missed that, I’m so sorry💀😭

💌.

obvious

Warnings: none, just different mornings of waking up next to Seb:)

I love the taste of you in the morning

Keep me warm and

Nothin' else, nothin' more important

Makes me wanna believe in love (Mmm)

I love the thought of us in the evening

Crave the feeling

The way you feel, somethin' 'bout it's healing

I'm praying we don't fuck this up (Ah-ah-ah, babe)

The sun’s light shines through the curtains creating a warm light to fill the room. The room is slightly chilly but you could care less. Being in Sebastian’s arms had kept you warm throughout the night. You take a breath in as you stretch your limbs out, the sounds of the sheets shifting and your joints cracking breaking the silence.

Sebastian’s hand rests on your bare stomach under your shirt. His large hand keeping your exposed stomach warm. You stroke his arm before turning in his grip. You’re greeted by Sebastian sleeping beside you. His hair is a fluffy mess, the ends splayed out against the pillow his head is on. His face is peaceful while his mouth is slightly agape.

You lazily smile as you lightly brush a strand of his short hair from his forehead. You press a kiss to the corner of his lips as you admire his sleeping form. Was it kinda creepy? Maybe. But the love of your life was sleeping beside you in bed and you enjoyed the feeling of waking up beside him.

Sebastian’s lips crack into a smile a few seconds after you kiss him. The sight makes you grin, “Were you awake this whole time?”

Sebastian hums as he rubs the sleep out his eyes. Your (e/c) eyes meet his crystal ones when his lids finally open. Pulling you closer into his chest he softly says, “I woke up when you started stretching.”

You look up at him and kiss his chin as he looks down at you. His thumbs stroke your back as his palms are flush against your skin.

“Good morning.” You contently sigh. Your arm rests on his shoulder while your fingers card through his soft hair.

“Good morning, iubitel.” His voice is rough and gravely, fresh from sleep. You realize how lucky you are to be one of the first people to hear his voice like this in the morning.

“I like this.” You muse as you tuck your head in between his shoulder and neck.

“You like what, my love?” His chest rumbles against yours, reminding you that this is real and that he woke up beside you.

“Waking up next to you. Waking up in your arms and being warm when I wake up because I have my own human furnace.” You feel him shift so that he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. You rest your head on your arms as you stare down at him, “I want this every morning.”

“I know, I want this every morning too. You’re a really great teddy bear.” He jokes as he leans into you. You make a noise and hide your face in your arms. Sebastian huffs as he tries to maneuver his way to your lips.

“Baby, I need my good morning kiss.” He whines, trying to move your arms.

“No, let me brush my teeth first.” You protest. Sebastian huffs again and flips the two of you over. Suddenly, his fingers are digging into your sides, making you squeal.

“NO SEB!” Your hands grip onto his trying to stop his fingers. Sebastian smiles and crashes his lips onto yours. The taste of him entering your mouth as you eventually kiss him back. His fingers now stroking your sides, soothing them from his tickling.

“I love you.” He tells you against your lips.

“I love you too.”

Others that I've had had to impress me before

But I knew you were the real thing

When you walked through the door

I didn't think that I would have to spell it out

You met Seb on set of The Winter Soldier. You were part of the makeup department and he happened to be assigned to you. Now during that time, he was in a relationship, though that didn’t stop you from secretly having a crush on him. I mean, you had to face him every single day because you did his makeup, so you couldn’t avoid him.

You remember the first day you met him. The way he walked in through the trailer doors with a shy smile on his face and how he asked if he was in the right trailer. Since the beginning, he’s shown nothing but kindness and respect to you and the others on set.

You work with him again during Civil War and you guys got closer. He was assigned to you again which meant you saw him everyday. You guys caught up, asking each other what they’ve been up to or how their day was. When you asked him how his girlfriend was he made a face and told you that they broke up. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the tiniest bit of excitement burst inside you.

Around the same time, he asked you out to lunch during one of his breaks. As much as you wanted to go you couldn’t because you were needed on set. So Sebastian brought lunch to you, which started the routine of having lunch in his trailer together. Trailer lunches turned into real dates and those dates eventually became the start of your relationship.

Oh, my love, oh, my love is free

Ain't no price on my loyalty

No shit, got me right where you want me, baby

Could I be more obvious? (Ooh)

The two of you were tangled in your sheets once again on a sunny morning. Sebastian had been staying at your place for a few days now, wanting to spend as much time with you before he leaves for another one of his projects.

The two of you laid in silence, basking in the warm and calm atmosphere of the sun’s light in your room. You were laying on your stomach, your right hand tucked under your head and your left hand on Sebastian’s chest. Your eyes were shut as you felt Sebastian play with the fingers of your left hand.

“You’ll still be here for me when I come back right?” He asks, his voice so small and quiet. His question makes your eyes open so you’re staring at the side of his face. He’s focused on your fingers, eyebrows knitted softly together.

You stop his fiddling and interlace your fingers with his. He turns his head to look at you, smiling when he sees you’re looking back at him.

“Of course I will. You don’t even have to ask me twice.” You tell him reassuringly as you scoot closer to him in bed.

“Why?” You ask him, your chin now resting on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. You deserve someone who’ll spend all the time in the world with you. Not, not me. I’m always leaving for work and I barely get to spend any time with you. You deserve someone who wakes up in the same time zone as you and not have to have dates over FaceTime because they keep missing out anniversaries.” He explained as he went back to playing with your fingers. You pull yourself up to rest on your elbow and guide Sebastian’s face to look at you.

“Who says I’m not happy to be in a relationship with you? I understand your job and I know it’s difficult, but in the end we’re gonna see each other again. You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else, Seb. Trust me, I only want you.” He looks into your eyes and finds nothing but sincerity.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” You place your lips onto his as his thumb runs along the skin of your left ring finger.

Maybe if I'm lucky, you might stay the afternoon

If you gotta work, just promise me you'll come back soon

Maybe you should pack a suitcase too (Too)

I love the thought of you never leavin' (No)

Days repeatin'

Gettin' steps up on the treadmill while you sleepin'

Never thought I'd believe in love again

The bed shifts underneath you, causing you to stir in your sleep. Sebastian shushes you when he sees you turn to his side. He watches as your arm reaches out for him but instead it’s met with the bed. He audibly awes when he sees you pout and scrunch your face up in your sleep. He kneels onto the bed and runs a hand through your hair before kissing your temple.

“Sebba.” You mumble as you start to wake up. Sebastian hums softly as he strokes your back.

“Go back to sleep, it’s four in the morning.” He’s now sitting on the bed. He wants to stay with you and wake up in the late morning, but he was needed on set.

“Why are you awake? Go back to sleep.” You whine as you shove your face into his pillow.

“Because I have work, baby.”

“Not even a few more minutes?” You huff, eyes finally opening to meet his in the dark.

“I’m taking my few more minutes right now.” He chuckles as he rests his head on your back. The rhythm of your breathing lulling him back to sleep.

“Do you have to go? I want you to stay.”

“Yeah, they need Bucky on set.” He answers as he tries to get you back to sleep. One of his hands are on your back slowly making circles on your back to soothe you to sleep.

“Bucky doesn’t even talk that much, he just runs a lot.” A lazy smile is on your face as Sebastian gasps.

“I’m kidding, you know I love Bucky.” You hum as you snuggle deeper into the covers. Sebastian feels your breathing get deeper, meaning you were drifting off again.

“I’m gonna get ready.” He whispers to your sleeping figure. He hesitantly gets up from the bed slowly and carefully so you don’t wake up again.

When he’s finished washing himself and putting clothes on for the day he finds you cuddling his pillow. He smiles to himself and leans down to press a kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I love you.” He whispers. He leans back up but feels a tug on his arm. He looks down to see your hand gripping on his wrist while you look up at him through heavy lids.

“Promise me you’ll be back soon?” You ask him quietly. Sebastian leans down again and pecks your lips.

“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He tells you as you drift back to sleep.

A hint of a smile is on your lips as you dream about your future with Sebastian. Not having to sleep over at each other’s houses because you guys bought a house together. Him coming home to you and a cooked meal you’d make for him. Then after you guys would watch tv and tell each other about your days. Maybe you’d be up before him in the morning, working out on the treadmill while he caught up on some sleep. The future you envisioned with Sebastian was everything you could ever want. Not now but soon down the road, maybe those imaginations would become reality? It’s just a matter of time until Sebastian gets down one knee and makes it all come true.

iubitel ~ baby, darling

#ally’s 700 celebration #ally’s requests #marvel #mcu #avengers #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian Stan fluff #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan

428 notes · View notes

youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Jinnie

[MASTERLIST] Beta: @hoebii Pairing: Jin x Reader Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Mystery, Angst, Adventure. Rating: All Words: 11.3k

Summary: Jin is a genie, who as folklore warns trick humans, to get their souls. He twists their words and taunts around into actual wishes to be used against them if it is phrased properly. But as a law student you are careful with your words and beat him at his own game.

Stepping out of 5330LAW ‘Wrongful Conviction: Journeys to Freedom’ you rubbed your temples, trying to ease the pain coursing behind them. It was like your brain had just been filled with wood chips and the sharp edges were trying to dig their way back out. How could learning hurt you so bad? There were so many dates, legislations, different clauses, and terms that you had to memorize- BUT, you forced yourself to move your thought process along.That would all have to wait.

You would rather not think ever again, so you rushed off to the little convenience store where you spent the night scanning products and taking money. You were like a robot repeating a script over and over.

“Welcome” “Can I help you?” “Just these items today?” “That will be twelve forty, on the card?” “Whenever you are ready” “Have a nice day”

It was easy. You happily lost yourself in those mundane tasks whilst standing there and growing bored. Suppressing a yawn, you cleaned the floors, tidied, and restocked the shelves. Eagerly counting down the final hour until you could go home and take a nap. While cleaning you had cut your hand on the plastic shelf display, quickly purchasing an antiseptic cream to cover the injury, it was the only thing that stood out about your shift today. Or so you thought.

Counting the till slowly you allowed for a few last-minute customers to come in and purchase what they needed. Most paid by the card so it wouldn’t ruin your count. They bought alcohol and snacks and other little things one might need. When it was finally time to close up, you headed around the counter walking towards the door ready to flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. As well as turning off the little neon ‘OPEN’ sign on the window.

Leaning down you reached for the plug, fingers so close to the switch ready to turn it off, you stretched down a little more, smiling triumphantly when you flicked the switch when the bell above the door rang a man ran in painting. “Excuse me miss,”

Ah! This is why you didn’t close off the till until the door was locked, allowing people to buy things last minute, if they needed something urgently. The amount of single parents who need baby wipes that barge into the store last minute was more than you could count.

“Good evening Sir, What can I help you with?”

“Please take this and make a wish?” He spoke, voice panicked as he kept nervously looking over his shoulder, “It is the lamp of a genie, it will grant you one wish, but you have to use it now”

Without a chance to refuse, the lamp was thrust into your hands. You stared at the beautiful gold and ruby lamp. This looked expensive and you wanted to refuse but the man had already started hiding behind the fridges. There was a bright flash of light coming from the street as a figure appeared outside on the sidewalk. The figure was quick, pushing open the door and practically gliding across the room where he grabbed the man.

You heard the man scream and you couldn’t help but run away in fear. You got into your car shaking, throwing everything on the passenger seat. Your breathing was shallow and erratic as you drove away as fast as you could, the adrenaline quickening your reflexes and keeping you alert to the road ahead.

When you got to your apartments, you scooped everything into your arms and ran up the stairs and along the corridor until you reached your door, your breathing wasn’t coming any easier and the pain in your chest was so sharp you felt like you were going to pass out. Fumbling with keys trying to find the right one for the door, the next-door neighbor started shouting about the ruckus you were making running in the hallways. It wasn’t until you were successfully inside the safety of your home that your breathing slowed down. That’s when you noticed the fancy lamp in your hands.

It looked like real gold, it looked like real jewels, did the man steal it and try to hide it with you, did the other man that showed up kill him. There were so many questions and you didn’t know what to do, so you ran out to the hall and threw it down the garbage shoot, hoping no one came for you.

Sleep didn’t come easy, you felt like there was someone on your balcony or someone walking down the hall, and every time you closed your eyes you saw this horrible-looking man. His eyes were dark and his skin was like Ash. Though you hadn’t seen any specific features your mind conjured the creepiest man; with a pointed hooked nose and a narrow protruding chin. You had seen his hands which were boney and each finger bent a little oddly like they weren’t natural human joints.

Deciding around midnight to study and use the time not sleeping wisely, you were well into the third chapter of the night when you finally dozed off, the textbook still opened.. Waking the next morning to a call you jerked awake, heart racing from the fright. Still adorning your uniform, you lunge across the floor to your bag where you heard your phone ringing. It was a stupid ringtone. From the floor you could see the gold lamp gleaming on the kitchen tiles and remembered the events of that night. Looking at the phone you saw the caller ID and groaned. It was your boss and you did not want to work. It was your first day off in two weeks and you were wanting to do some cleaning school work and chill out.

That and any thought regarding the shop had the barely repressed memories clawing at the edges of your mind. You had decided it was obviously a prank and two people were joking around. Reluctantly you cleared your throat before answering, sitting up straight and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hello, this is Y/n speaking,” You said politely and waited to hear what the store owner had to say with your fingers crossed. He was a nice guy and you knew it was stressful for him to have to fill shifts as the younger employees tended to take multiple days off in a week but you were really in need of this free day.

“Hey Y/n, it is Choi,” He said his voice seemed a little stressed but also slightly amused and you felt your shoulders slacken, “I was wondering if you could see me this morning in about half an hour?”

“Of course, I will be there in fifteen minutes,” You replied, getting changed and retying your hair in a bun before racing out the door. You drove to the shop and began planning your chores for the day. When you get home you would have to do your laundry and then sit and try to get a start on more assignments and essays. You were feeling really productive after reading from your textbook last night.

The boss wasn’t asking you to work today so it must be about something else, you frowned pulling into a parking space outside the store. What if he is going to fire you? No, you were one of the best and most experienced, also the only one he trusts to lock up the shop.

The shop.

Oh hell. Last night you left those two wannabe psychopaths in the store, they could have stolen anything. If you were fired today you were going to have a breakdown. What if that weird guy had actually killed the other man, he had seemed so panicked and you just locked them in and left.

Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the car and strode into the store, bracing yourself for the worst, like to see the cash register ripped from the counter and snacks and shelves raided for free products. What you didn’t expect was the man to be sitting at a table being served coffee from the boss.

He was handsome. He was looking at the owner who was talking adamantly about compensating for something, the bell on the door had alerted the young handsome man of your arrival, his eyes flickering to you. They were so beautiful, a dark caramel and his lips pulled up into a soft smirk as he looked you over. He took a sip of his coffee to repress the smile and you looked away feeling your heart speeding up and your face flushing.

He was very handsome, unlike anyone you had ever seen. Better than any idol, he didn’t look human and you were feeling the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins, your fight or flight was prompted last time by the man’s scream and you had run away. However, this time was different. Your flight was to just freeze up and pretend you were dead like a possum.

“Ah, you are here,” Choi smiled and walked over to you and led you out the back of the shop where he had a small office/staff room which was beside a small bathroom. The boss walked you inside and explained that you had accidentally locked the handsome young man inside alone for the entire night. “We are lucky he is an honest man who said he didn’t touch anything all night but sat and waited for someone to come and open the store.

“He what?” You said, confused this man had been locked in because he was trying to kill another man, did you forget, maybe it was lack of sleep that made you see things. You had heard that stress and not enough sleep leads to hallucinations. Had you thought it all up and locked an innocent man in the shop?

No. If he was truly innocent he wouldn’t look at you like that, like he knew you, like he knew how much he scared you, like he knew you were confused about the other man and where he had gone. He knew what he was doing. You didn’t trust him and he left a sour taste in your mouth.

The boss told you, that they were lucky he wasn’t pressing charges and that he was thankful you were not hurt, “I thought that maybe this man had done something to you last night, the closing was in shambles”

“Yeah, I think lack of sleep got to me,” You admitted your cheeks flushing in embarrassment, if this was all in your head, you must be in need of a long night’s rest. You looked at the old man and touched his shoulder, “Thank you for thinking of me, I am so sorry this happened, I will go apologize to the customer and head home and rest.”

“Wait, did you check the footage?” You asked the owner, his old eyes looked up at you as he rubbed his face, pushing his wrinkles around his face with equally pruney fingers. You almost cringed at how stretchy his skin looked.

“I can bring it up,” He said and brought up the footage from last night. You could see the door open but there was no one there and you were surprised that you were looking and talking to no one. That was suspicious, had you actually imagined it all and locked up some poor young man last night?

Walking through the aisles you saw him leaning back in the seat and you sighed, “Are you okay? I am so sorry, that I had locked you in, I haven’t been sleeping well and I think I had a moment when I started seeing things. I thought you were a murderer and was killing someone, that’s why I locked the door and ran.”

The young man threw his head back and laughed, you almost spat your drink at him. What was that laugh? It was dorky and sounded like a broken squeaky toy, you couldn’t help but laugh as well in surprise.

“That explains why you ran and locked me in,” He wiped his nonexistent tears from his laughing and smiled at you, his teeth looked so white and perfect it made you feel self-conscious. He touched your arm and your breath hitched, “I am sorry, I frightened you, but I promise you, you can check the footage, I was the only one who came in last night.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault” You blushed again laughing and shaking your head, “I must have gone crazy”

You were happy that he didn’t seem angry at all, if anything he seemed really charming, he brushed his fingers along your arm soothingly. “You do look like you need some sleep, Would you like me to drive you home?”

“Uh... no, it’s okay” You waved your hands in protest, “Thank you for thinking of me, but I think I will be fine”

He took your hands in both of his and leaned in, you were struggling to breathe, why was this brunette bombshell so forward, “If there is anything you need, I am happy to help or even just listen. He reached behind his back and brought his hand back with a card and grinned, “My card, call if you ever get scared, or when you are tired. Imagination can make you see the scariest things.”

He held out the card and you noticed his fingers were bent strangely and you starred, “Ah, it’s a medical condition, they are called swan neck fingers, they are pretty weird aren’t they?”

“No sorry, I was just thinking about what I saw last night, you aren’t what I remember but then again I was so scared I think I imagined you more like a monster.” You laughed and he rubbed the back of his neck with a small laugh.

“Speaking of last night, have you seen a small watering can, it was a shiny yellow metal and had red polka dots on it.” He smiled but this was different, heavier, his eyes weighed you down, it was like you were being squished and your heart thumped in your chest as if repeating a mantra. Run, Run, Run.

“A watering can?” You asked leaning away from him in your seat but the back stopped you from going as far as you wanted, “I don’t remember a watering can, I am sorry, But I can keep an eye out for it.”

His grin split huge and unnatural and you knew. You knew that he knew. You were lying to him. He could tell and he liked it, he licked his lips watching you get out of your seat and talk about your pending chores calling you.

As you walked out of the shop you could feel his gaze on you and tried to stop yourself from shivering. You failed and when you opened the car door you looked at the window and saw him laughing.

You could practically hear the squeaky sound that didn’t fit the refined face. You drove home, stopping in the underground parking lot you looked at the business card he had given you and scoffed, scrunching the paper and throwing it onto the floor.

You froze there was a feeling like someone was watching you and from the corner of your eye you saw something in the rearview mirror and when you looked up you thought you saw his clothes pass the back of the car but when you turned you saw the old man from the apartment next door was there knocking on the window.

“The bins are for average household garbage only, not furniture, not metals or glass, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t fill the garbage with your cheap metal figurine. That and last night it hit the walls of the disposal shoot on the way down making a clatter, try to keep it down.”

“Sorry, Mr Choi, I had a bad night last night, I was almost killed at work, I was scared” You admitted trying to get his sympathy, he faltered and nodded before walking away, leaving the conversation as it was.

You were standing there with the lamp in your hands and with a frown you hurried into the elevator and into your apartment. From the safety of your home, the tension in your shoulders relaxed. Taking out a pen and paper, before quickly jotting down the evidence and the memories you had. You knew it wasn’t a plausible case and wouldn’t stand in court. The evidence against you would tear your whole case into pieces and it made you mad.

You took the crumpled business card from your pocket and opened it reading the name “Kim Seokjin,” You started an online search of the name and the business but nothing appeared, you decided to ring him. Taking your phone from your pocket you hesitated to dial the numbers, getting up you punched in the numbers with determination wilting when it came to pressing the green call button.

“Come on, he is just a guy, albeit really attractive and charming and probably a murder psycho who probably eats people” You were shaking something about calling him made you nervous, and amongst your arguing, you had accidentally bumped the call button. Placing the phone up to your ear it began speaking.

“Sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer available. Please check the number and try again.”

“Oh thank gosh,” You sighed relieved only to squeal and throw your phone in response to a sharp knock at the door. You stood there frozen in fear as the knock occurred again. Slowly shuffled over quietly, your socks muting each step as you peered outside through the peephole. When you looked you squealed again clutching your chest. Two very familiar faces were almost pressed to the door staring back at you a little distorted. Throwing the door open you practically shrieked.

“Kim Namsoon don’t you dare do that again I almost had a heart attack, Yoonji you should know better, get in here.” You grabbed them by the jackets and pulled the two girls inside, they chuckled brandishing a bag of snacks. It wasn’t long before you were revealing all the little details of the incident that occured in the shop. You told them everything that happened hypothetically of course.

“Easy, if I was handed a lamp from a random guy on the street and told to make a wish, I would make a wish?” Yoonji shrugged.

“Well, that depends. Hypothetically, if genies were real you have a few options classic folklore genies or djinn’s are beings who snatch souls, they claim they can grant a wish but say you said I want to be rich for as long as I live, then they will hand you money and kill you instantly because you were rich until the moment you died which means that was all of your life.”

You nodded glad that Namsoon was smart and well versed in all different genres of books fiction and otherwise. She twirled her hair thinking.

“Your choice of words would have to be specific otherwise they can use different interpretations of the words and bend the wish to their benefit. You ask for a million dollars, they might give you Monopoly money.”

“I see, that would be annoying” Yoonji huffed, arms crossing over her chest as she began thinking over her wish if she had a genie.

“Also not to say they wouldn’t make your life miserable with your wishes, you ask to be popular or the centre of attention and you will never have a moment of peace, even the wishes they do well are so over the top it is torture”

“How would you trick a genie, while still getting the reward?”

“You would have to think of a really good wish.” Namsoon said with a small sigh, “but I don’t know how you would do it.”

The three of you watched a few movies and devoured an almost embarrassing amount of snacks. You managed to finish all your washing and after lunch Namsoon and Yoonji decided to leave you for your school work. Waving them off at the door, you had decided that whatever happened last night was all in your head. The coffee table doubled as your work area, so it needed to be cleaned before you could even think about studying. Amongst the rubbish you saw Yoonji’s headphones.

A Lazy knock at the door made you smile, that would be her. Scooping the treasured device of one of your closest friends and heading to the door. “I got them, I know you can’t live without them Yoo~oooooooou”

You physically jumped back at the sight of him standing there, your body locking up. Yet he smiled as if it meant nothing. As if he was just standing at a bus stop, not like he had somehow found out where you lived got through the security system of the apartment block and found your door.

“Ah hello,” You breathed the words like you were deflating.

“Good evening, Miss y/n, how are you this evening?” His smile brightened flashing his shiny Colgate grin, he gave you no time to think as he reached out, was this the end. You scrunch your eyes but felt him touch your hair, peeking an eye open he took a piece of fluff from your hair. He looked at it between his fingers for a moment before blowing it away.

Something woke in you as you slammed the door in his face and locked it. Backing away nervously, you decided to call the police. You turned your back on the door and ran for your phone instead slamming nose first into a broad chest. There he was, in your house, your safe place from the world. You flailed back, tripping over nothing and falling onto your behind.

“How did you get in?” You accused from the floor

He smiled striding over and squatting beside you, holding out his hand. “Your friends let me in,” you shivered. How did he know they were your friends. This guy was beautiful but he was starting to scare you. There was something about his calm nonchalant way of his words that made it seem worse.

“Okay, is there something you needed? Or can I get back to my work now.” You asked ignoring his helping hand, you stood up and turned to him crossing your arms across your chest. You saw him still in the same position, hand outstretched, his smile had fallen and his face was dark. He didn’t like how you ignored his hospitality you could tell as his eye twitched in annoyance, and his fingers curled up.

Standing he brushed his hands on his pants and gave you another sweet smile, “Is there anything you need?”

“What if there is nothing I need?” You asked defensively, trying to get him to tell you why he was here, was he a genie from the strange lamp you had been given the other night or were you going crazy and he was just a murderer. Whatever it is, you wanted him to leave you alone.

“Everyone needs something, you’re humans, you always need something.” He scoffed and you pointed at him with an Aha!

“So you admit you aren’t human?” You accused, watching him walk over towards your kitchen and sit atop the bench throwing one leg over the other and intertwining his fingers together atop his lap.

His smirk grew again in that creepy way, “what would o be if not a human?”

“You are a genie aren’t you?”

“Gold star human, Genie is one of my names but I go by Jin J-I-N” He spelt it with his finger and the letters appeared in a pink font, like something in the harry potter movie, his name didn’t form any pseudonyms. Instead he batted the word away and it disappeared in a light pink dust. “What can I do for you, human? You can wish for anything. Choose carefully, I can get you anything you have ever desired. But I have limitations, You only get three wishes and you can’t wish for more. Other than that, have fun.”

“Wait that’s it?” You asked confused and he looked taken aback that you weren’t jumping on the chance to make wishes.

“What do you mean?” He scoffed jumping down from the bench, “Yes that is it, but why are you worried about the conditions when you just have to make a wish. I can make you beautiful or rich or have everyone love you, you just have to clearly say ‘I wish’ before you ask”

“I don’t want that,” You walked away and sat on the couch turning on the tv, “I am already beautiful and I make enough money, and I am nice so the right people like me.”

“Look you have to wish for three things and then I can move on,” He said, standing in front of the television and you sighed.

“But what is the catch, what do you get in return for granting wishes?” You asked him curious and he looked away for a moment before heading over to you in quick strides dropping to his knees and holding your hands while you leaned back on the couch stunned by his sudden forwardness.

“This is my job,” He said sincerely and you knew he was hiding a major clause in his deal.

“I will think about the deal, and I will call you when the time comes” You said with “Close the door on the way out”

“Fine! Where is my lamp?” Jin asked, you didn’t let your eyes stray from the television as you answered.

“You mean the metal teapot thing, I threw it down the garbage disposal, Why?” You feigned shock, “Oh no, was it really gold and rubies?”

“Yes it is real,” He exclaimed horrified, you held your ground knowing the real thing was in your dresser, but you weren’t going to tell him that. He seemed to try to calm himself down asking in a clipped tone, “Where is it?”

“I told you I threw it out, it would be crushed into scrap metal by now the bins are emptied overnight.” He looked like he was going to scream, his body flailing as he began shouting in a language you didn’t understand, whilst pacing smoke literally poured from his ears. “How was I supposed to know, just lay down on the couch”

He huffed, reluctantly crossing the room and flopping onto the couch, practically kicking you off when he outstretched his long legs. You decided to forfeit the cushioned seat and slide onto the floor, losing yourself in you studies. Admittedly it was difficult to relax having a stranger in your house lounging on your couch behind you. But, you were more interested in observing him, so you feigned indifference and let him watch television.

Part way through your essay you heard a growl tensing once more, you had almost forgotten he was there. Turning to the offending noise, you heard it again, locating the sound to Jin’s stomach, “are you hungry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, watching what seemed like the fourteenth episode of ‘Say yes to the dress’ there must be a marathon or something. You faintly remember him complaining during the previous episodes about people not just saying what they wanted, giving death glares into the back of your head “It is your dress not theirs. Ughhh… just say what you want so the people can get on with their jobs”

“I’m going to make something to eat,” you had said it loud enough that you hoped it would peak his interest and he would accompany you for a meal. But he didn’t seem to move an inch, it wasn’t until you had added the seasoning to the ramen purposefully leaving the lid off so you could lure him away from the Television.

It worked. Strolling in casually as he could muster but you knew from the sound of his stomach and the tilt of his nose in the air your kitchen skills had done the job.

“Cheese Ramen and steak?” You asked, showing him the food cooking and his lips which had been parted in awe closed with a swipe of his tongue and he swallowed heavily before looking up at you. “It’s okay to say you are hungry, I will feed you”

His ears were turning red and you grinned, “Look go grab some plates from that cupboard there,” you used your leg; sticking it out in the direction, your foot tapping against the lower cupboard, just left of the sink, “and bring them over to the bench.”

Your apartment was small and you loved it. In your kitchen everything was within reaching distance and being able to touch both walls was claustrophobic to some, but comforting to you. That and there were only six tiles on the floor that needed to be cleaned. You had never thought your kitchen was small until Jin stepped into the kitchen, You turned slightly to watch him as he slid past the bench, your hand casually stirring the ramen making the noodles had all separated.

With his eyes looking into yours, he went to step around you, his chest pressed to yours and you blushed eyes faltering and looking at his wide chest. He grabbed out the plates and began his journey back and you turned to face the stove not wishing to be face to face with the handsome features again.

You felt his clothes brush yours as he slipped past and placed the items on the bench. Letting out a breath you began serving the dinner and he licked his lips once more. “It looks good, huh?”

“Yeah, thank you,” JIn smiled and looked up, “Maybe I can repay you, you could wish for a grand house?”

“No thanks, that’s too much, I live alone that would be too lonely,” You laughed sitting at the tiny table, “But I would like to discuss your clauses and limits.”

“Of course, what can I tell you?” He asked curiously

“You killed that man didn’t you,” You didn’t look up from your plate not wanting to appear judgemental, who knew this was what he had to do, it never meant he enjoyed it.

“Hey, I didn’t kill him,” He said and you knew the meaning, he may not see it as killing but taking payment for the wish. You watched his expression as he ate and looked at the suit he had been wearing when you met.

The two of you ate in silence, and you raised an eyebrow, “Do you have any other clothes, or do you roam around in formal attire?”

“I have more clothes in my lamp, but I feel as though now I will have to go see someone about making me another, I need it for strangers to pick up and use” He frowned, “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get another lamp made?”

“Can’t you just magic yourself one?” You expressed your confusion, pouring him some juice and he laughed while taking the beverage.

“No, I can’t really perform wishes on myself, I live to serve until my debt is paid. I can do tiny things but nothing like that,” He laughed dryly, you were curious as to what his debt was.

“What is your debt?” You spoke concerned as you gave Jin the other half of your steak he had been eyeing, was it because he looked so nervous to ask for more food or was it a bribe to get information from him? You liked to think it was your professionalism taking over to get information but deep down you knew it was the look in his eyes.

“It’s just something that I stupidly accepted from the beginning that I regret,” He blushed eating the steak you had given to him, you took your plate and glass to the sink and began slowly washing the plates and pots.

“So, you don’t have any other clothes?” You asked him, you knew it would be best to pull back on the questioning until you two had a better bond, there were many ways for you to get the information you wanted. You had to appear like a trustworthy friend, give him the freedom to confide in you with even the smallest things without judgement and then perhaps he would tell you what you would like to hear.

“Only what I am wearing,” He sighed, “Are you sure they have taken my lamp? The thing is wherever my lamp is I am bound to it, my master holds the lamp and calls me and I appear to grant them a wish.”

“Listen, you want people to pick you up, you have to modernize, no one uses lamps anymore, let’s look around and maybe I can buy you some sort of replacement that will work similarly,” you started, “But for now, we have two hours until the department store closes and I was wondering if you wanted me to buy you some pj’s for tonight. I can’t afford a lot but, I can get you something that isn’t this suit to sleep in.”

Grabbing your bag and coat the two of you ventured out, it was along the way that you picked up some ice cream as dessert, the two of you talked and laughed until you reached the department store. Guiding Jin through the store, he seemed to get distracted or lost in the sea of people easily. Reaching out you took his hand and guided him through until you reached the menswear section. You found him some pajamas, blue button up with an Alpaca on the front that said ‘Adventure? Al-Pack-a my bags’. It made him laugh and you giggled, you loved when he laughed, it was so silly.

You had to purchase them, it would have been a crime if you hadn’t. You had him try on the tops, so you could compensate for his shoulders and when you decided on a size you headed on and grabbed him a toothbrush and more things to get him through the night. It was a last minute decision to get him a plain white shirt and black lounge pants. With all the things in hand you started heading home.

Once home he went for a shower and came out dressed and giggling in his pajamas, he looked youthful with his hair done. He was a smart businessman with it slicked back but done he was so boyish. Shaking these thoughts you went for a shower drying your hair and stepping out in your silk camisole and shorts. You saw him tucked into your bed and you blushed, “Uh Jin, that is my bed?”

“Oh, I am sorry, I just saw a bed and assumed it was where I was staying, I forgot,” Jin sat up and went to get out of the bed and you raised your hand.

“It is a queen sized bed, I am sure we can share it without any troubles.” You got in beside him, and he settled awkwardly, now a little unsure of the situation. “Unless you are uncomfortable, I have to sleep. I have classes in the morning okay?”

“Okay, I will sleep too,” the two of you turned in opposite directions, in an effort to forget the others' presence.

It was easier said than done, the two of you shuffled around all night trying to will yourselves unconscious and yet there was no forgetting the others presence. In the dark it consumed you, the warmth from his body so close to yours made your heart race, he was handsome and you barely knew him. Your feet accidentally brushed and you retracted them muttering a sorry in the cool night air.

“‘S okay,” Jin said under his breath, the gravel in his voice told you just how tired he was as well, it made you laugh, you were both suffering in each other's company. Picking up your pillow you moved it to the end of the bed and slept the opposite way. “What are you doing?”

“It was awkward so I thought instead of laying side by side and neither of us getting sleep, we could just top and tail and then it would be like a sleep over and not so weird,” You smiled, “but since we are both still awake we can talk until we fall asleep”

“What do we talk about?” He said rolling over and looking at you from the top of the bed, “I have never had a sleepover?”

“Wait really,” You sat up and frowned, he sat up mimicking your posture unsure if he was in trouble. “So at sleepovers, you talk about everything, like the people you like, and you play games and paint each others nails and braid hair”

“And this happens at every sleep over,” He said looking at his nails, your smile broke your face as you switched on the lamp and ran from the room, he called your name in concern and when you ran back into the room arms filled with snacks you saw Jin on his knees looking like a scared child who heard a bump in the night.

You ate snacks and painted his nails, he didn’t know what colour to choose, so you gave him a ballet pink, something cute but still subtle. “Okay, when I was thirteen I fell out of tree and got this scar on my temple, that was three stitches”

He tilted your head to see the faint scar and traced the line with his finger, he listened intrigued about your stories and soon the two of you fell asleep. The next morning your alarm sounded and you realised you were going to be late for class. You raced around getting dressed, thankful you had gotten him a white shirt, you told him to wear it and his suit pants and blazer.

He stepped out looking breathtakingly handsome, with little effort. You gestured for him to follow and began traveling down the hall, he was smart but unsure. He made up for his confusion with the modern world with his ability to lie and conjure up needed items and documents.

“We are taking the bus, do you have a ticket?” He nodded, brandishing a paper ticket, out of nowhere making you smile. He followed you on the bus and when you sat down he sat beside you, for a second you hadn’t expected it and you forgot you were babysitting some other worldly being.

“So, what are your classes?” He asked trying to strike up a conversation, or just genuinely curious you explained you were in a law degree, it took little time to reach the auditorium and you thanked the heavens today for only lectures, anyone could sit in on a lecture.

Halfway through the lecture your stomachs were growling, you handed Seokjin some money and you asked him to get you both something to eat. “Where from?”

Sighing you took back the money, “we will have to wait for the lecture to be over,” He pouted at the thought of not getting fed and rubbed his tummy, a little uncomfortable.

For whatever reason you felt pity, and searched your bag, for any snacks you might have left in the bottom just in case, finding a small granola bar, you handed it over for him.

He opened it happy and when he was done he heard your stomach growl and he felt a little guilty that he didn’t share. He thought you were a bit strange. Every human he met was always quick to make their wishes, money, fame, looks, the three most common things but you were the first person that made him wait. You were the first person to give instead of take, you worried about him and took care of him, reveling in his happiness.

He offered you money and a big house last night and you didn’t want it, he wondered if there was something wrong with you. After the lectures you went to lunch, Jin sat down at the table as you ordered burgers and drinks and a plate of fries to share. Sitting across from Jin, you watched him look around at the other patrons in the neighboring tables eating burgers and chips and you smiled cheekily behind your book.

“I didn’t have much money so i just got chips to share and a drink” you lied without moving your face from behind the book.

“Ah, that is okay, I can give you money if you ask for it” He assured you

“I don’t want money?” you waved his statement aside.

“What do you want, if you could have anything in the world?” He asked

“If I could have anything in the world, I would want to work hard for it, not make a wish, it is a waste to just have something, if I have everything I ever wanted what is the point of living” you saw the food coming towards the table and closed your book. “What’s the point of reading a book if you know the end, what’s so special about happiness if that’s all you feel, it just becomes boring.”

“What’s the point of being a genie if all you do is grant wishes and never get to live a little, you have to admit sleep overs were pretty fun huh?” You continued your lecture knowingly as the plates were placed down. “What’s the point of life if there aren't surprises to make it fun?”

He was smiling hard at the food, a little bit bashful about being tricked, he was starting to understand your point of view but he thought, this couldn’t be possible, you couldn't be the only human in the world who thought this way, could you? Then again you were the only one Jin had the pleasure of meeting and yes it was a pleasure to meet someone who actually cared about him for once.

Your phone rang, your friends were asking to come meet you at the uni and you were quick to answer and agree. You were too invested in your food that you didn’t even think about the man across from you and your friends heading your way.

“Hey, Y/n,” Yoonji and Namsoon took seats on either side of the table before looking at Jin, they turned back to you, their mouths open. You were not a professional lip reader, but your best guess of the words they were relaying were.

‘Oh my gosh, he is so hot! Is he single? What is his name? What are you doing eating with a man this gorgeous?’ Namsoon gushed over the handsome man.

You blushed, swallowing down some soda, so you could explain. “Hey, this is my friend Kim Seokjin, he and I met at work,” not a total lie, “and we became friends”

“Oh what do you do?” Namsoon asked curiously

“Yeah, do you go to Uni?” Yoonji searched the menu not phased by his beauty. His ears went red and he looked at you for help.

“Hold that thought, go order and then we can talk,” You waved them away, laughing as they went to order obediently. “Life is full of surprises Jin, live your life today, as if you were normal, just bend the truth a little, you could say you're an entrepreneur or a life coach because you make people's wishes come true.”

“I am excellent at charming people and making up stories, don’t worry,” He sat back in his chair putting one leg over the other, “Sit back and watch the master at work”

“I haven’t even started my assignments yet,” Yoonji said walking back to the table and flopping into her chair. “I was too busy sleeping”

“Okay we are back, as we were saying, what do you do for a living?”

“I am a life coach, I make people's wishes come true, help them figure out their life and make things happen” He smiled “It’s a pretty rewarding job.”

“That sounds interesting,” Namsoon smiled “So what do you do outside of work?”

“The usual sleep, eat, watch tv, I slept over Y/n’s last night and it was fun, we stayed up a little too late, so we had to rush to get dressed and get to the lectures, we didn’t even eat breakfast we were that late” He said with a smile at you that was proud at his skills of charming the girls.

“He slept over,” Namsoon hissed at you, “You had this man in your bed last night?”

You were bright red and you tried to settle them down, but it was useless and better yet, Jin was just sitting there smug, which didn’t help the image he had painted in their heads.

“You know, good on you, you haven’t been with a guy for a very long time,” Yoonji smiled

“It’s really not like that,” You blushed, waving your hands in denial, “um Yoonji these are your headphones you left them at my house”

“Oh yeah no wonder I didn’t get any study done,” she smiled softly as you put your bag over your shoulder. “You got work?”

“Yeah I have to go or I will be late,” you sighed taking one last sip of your beverage.

“We will clean it up you go,” they sat giggling as you and Jin left from the small fast food restaurant.

“Ah, Jin why did you say that?” You hissed at him, “I thought you said you were a master at charming people”

“What did I do wrong? They loved me”

“They thought you and I did things last night, not just sleeping” you said and he blushed, his ears, cheeks, and neck turning bright red.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh is right” you sighed dragging him to your house where you rushed to dress for work you told him to wait at home, “help yourself to water and up to three snacks in the cupboard no more okay, watch tv, it’s a tiny shift I will make dinner when I get home”

He nodded, “okay, water and only three snacks”

You patted his head and grinned “you are such a good listener, such a good young man”

“I feel like either I’m a dog or you're an old woman,” he poked your side playfully as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail.

“I will be home soon,” you left and headed to your car and drove to work, you were serving customers when the lady next door came in.

“Good evening, how is business in the bakery,” you grinned cheekily, as you got her usual order ready. A cold bottle of iced tea and kimbap.

“Not great, I haven’t sold half the stock,” she sighed, “I have so many items left.”

“Do you have an apple pie, or a strawberry shortcake?” You queried wanting to help the woman and also eat something sweet.

“We have everything mini’s and family sized?” She sighed, opening the iced tea and drinking slowly. At the mention of family size you thought of Jin and wondered what he might like.

“I have a friend but I don’t know what he would like in ways of sweets?” You thought allowed, “but if you have something nice I would be happy to get us something to eat after dinner”

“I have just the thing,” she declared running off faster than you had ever seen her, she came back with a white box wrapped in the stores signature blue ribbon and she smiled taking only half the payment for it as she wanted you to have the cake for free but your pressed to at least pay for the ingredients.

You carried the cake to the car and drove home, nervous to see him. You took the elevator and practiced what you wanted to say, “it’s just something the lady next door was throwing out, no that’s too like iffy, I get this all the time it’s no big deal, no that’s too indifferent and sounds a bit unhealthy”

The elevator doors opened revealing the hall filled with your neighbours and a thin blanket of smoke. Walking towards your apartment heart sinking as you saw everyone gathered at your door pushing your way inside to see a mess, there was smoke in the air and the smoke alarms were disabled.

Putting the cake on the bench you began cleaning up thanking the neighbours for their help and concern.

“What happened?” You asked angrily, “why were you cooking—”

“I tried to cook ramen, you made it last night so I tried to do the same,” he coughed and rubbed at his smoke strained eyes. “Are you mad?”

“I am a little mad not because you almost burnt the house down, because you could have been hurt, life is full of surprises, remember and this one is one of the bad ones, but we learn and we grow from them. Now, are you okay? You seem to have inhaled a bit of smoke.”

“I’m okay, I promise” he said “I really am sorry, it’s just I have never cooked before, I wanted to surprise you with dinner”

“Well let’s sit on the balcony and have dessert instead?” You smiled and you opened the cake to see a love heart red velvet cake and you laughed. “The lady at the bakery heard I was buying a cake for you and she picked this one”

“It’s tasty” he hummed, “being a human is hard, I wish I had my lamp”

“I think you are doing wonderfully, remember the bad times make the good times good”

You sat in silence devouring a cake together and the two of you reentered the apartment and started cleaning the kitchen until it was spotless. “I will need to buy a new noodle pot”

“You could always wish for one,” he suggested, and then upon thinking shook his head “actually that’s a silly wish, don’t wish for that”

You were surprised he said that he had been trying to get you to wish for anything since you met, but this was the first time he told you not to wish for something.

After everything was cleaned you ordered in and ate, Seokjin’s obsession with ‘Say yes to the dress’ was becoming unhealthy. It was during the fourth episode that your eyes got heavy and you thought, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem to rest your head on Jin’s chest. He wrapped his arm around you and the two of you stretched out.

You woke the next day and was happy that you didn’t have work but you had assignments and you had to return a book to the library. Leaving Jin at home once more you swapped the book before taking a detour to the mall and getting a new sweater and pants for him. Walking inside you handed him the bag with a small smile, “I saw these and thought you might like it, try them on and see if they fit?”

He put on the sweater and pants and you felt your heart flutter, he looked really handsome. His hair was a little askew from pulling the sweater over his head, so you told him to sit on the couch running your fingers through his hair in order to style it. It seemed all this achieved was you getting lost in his handsome features, staring up at you without even trying to charm you. You messed his hair up, unable to stand how he made you feel, he whined “what’s wrong?”

“You look weird” You huffed, and crossed your arms, looking away with a pout.

“What do you mean? I am handsome!” He said in disbelief.

“That’s the problem, it’s hard to look at you when you’re that handsome, it makes my heart race” you admitted “if only I could just become immune, get used to it until it doesn’t bother me”

“You can look at me all you want, I don’t mind,” he said innocently, “but is this what you call life’s surprises, is it not good to see a beautiful face”

“It is nice,” I admitted, “it just makes me nervous”

Knee deep in assignments you realised you had been devoting too much of your time and attention to Jin. It was time to get to work, you had your books, snacks and drinks at your side and it was time to tackle the ethics of law assignment worth half your grade.

Telling Jin to entertain himself, he nodded immediately flicking through the channels frowning when his favourite wedding dress reality show wasn’t playing. You eventually picked a show for him when you heard the intro to keeping up with the kardashians. He didn’t need to learn about that just yet.

Halfway through your assignment, he saw an ad for the bite market. A market place full of food stalls where you can try all different delicious foods. Once he saw the ad he began begging you to go, he wanted to try the tornado potatoes and the crepes they had shown cooking deliciously on the TV.

“Can we go please?” He asked rolling around on the floor and shaking you as you wrote. It wasn’t until he was sitting across from you and grabbed your cheeks bringing your face to his that you decided to take a break from your work.

“You were saying?” You said as he held your face in his hands.

“Uh, yeah sorry, I got distracted,” he blinked letting your face go, and looking at his hands as if they had burnt him. “Can we go to the bite market”

“Okay, let me get dressed, put on your coat and shoes” Stepping into your room, you changed into a beautiful red dress, it was one you bought online one year because you wanted the classic red dress for a romantic date, but turns out you had no one to wear it for. Until today.

The dress hugged your curves and smoothed you out paired with heels. It gave your legs a longer appearance and your butt a more prominent appearance. You let your hair out doing a quick brush and style and some quick make up, a little eye shadow and a rosey lip stain. Topping it off with a dash of perfume you were feeling elegant and beautiful.

You nervously stepped out into the living room and saw him handsome as ever dressed and ready with his shoes on. He looked at you, his mouth falling open and his hand immediately trying to flatten his hair in nervousness.

“Life’s surprises, is this a good one?” You grinned cheekily

“Yes, but I am not used to it, it makes me nervous” he patted his chest as if trying to ease indigestion. You grabbed your purse and headed out to the bite market, Jin’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas you could see the sparkle in his eyes as they reflected the fairy lights between the stalls. The place looked magical and had everything you could think of.

The two of you tried the foods and were having fun sharing a rather delicious crepe with fresh strawberries, You gave Jin the majority of the strawberries seeing how he eyed them, and he hummed “I love strawberries”

“Me too, they are delicious” you hummed happily, knowing he was happy was good enough for you, you wouldn’t tell him but this is what you would wish for just days of fun and new experiences and a friend to share it with.

“Then why did you give them all to me?” Jin was confused, and you laughed

“Because it made you happy, seeing you enjoy them was enough for me,” you wiped his chin of the sweet cream and laughed “they said there will be fireworks today,”

“Oh I like fireworks” he said and you kept walking and you bumped into a small group of older gentlemen. One of them turned and grabbed Jin by the collar, punching him so hard that he fell.

“Gentlemen I am so sorry that we bumped into you, how about you get something? On me” You handed them a fifty in a panic and they took it and turned to leave.

“You’re lucky your girlfriend is smart and beautiful, or we would have beaten you to a pulp, pretty boy” once they started walking away you walked to Jin.

You looked at him and pulled him to his feet, “are you okay?” You held his face and frowned, there was a small thin cut near his cheek bone maybe from the man's rings. “Why is it you still look handsome? Come with me,”

You went to the open field, Jin laying out his jacket and the two of you sat on top, you would have the perfect view of the fireworks. However, fireworks weren’t on your mind. You opened your bag and pulled out a small antiseptic cream and knelt in front of him. “This will help, I got it for my hand the other day at work, it helps soothe the cut and keep it from getting infected”

He quietly let you pull his face gently closer, “are you okay, it must have been scary?”

“You stepped in front of me, what if you got hurt?” He asked, wincing as you dabbed the medicine on the cut “you also gave them your money?”

“If it’s for a friend it doesn’t count, I would give them one hundred dollars to stop you from getting beaten” you blew a stream of cool air onto the affected area the whistles and pops of the fireworks bursting in the sky behind you. But you didn’t turn around, stuck looking at Jin, like a magnet.

You hesitated, starting to turn away, “Ah the fireworks are my favouri—” Jin grabbed your cheeks in his large warm hands and pulled you in for a kiss. A delicious twang in the pit of your stomach accompanied by the fluttering in your chest. The kiss was beautiful and like a fire burning up a match, the two of you came alive. Your hands diving into his hair as the kiss deepened and you felt him hum happily the sound rumbling his chest.

You fell apart a mere inch panting and you swallowed, trying to form words. “We shouldn’t miss the fireworks,” you scrambled to sit beside him and the two of you watched silently. Had you done the wrong thing.

“Thank you,” he said softly, you weren’t entirely sure what he was thankful for, but you were happy anyway.

The two of you headed home flushed from the cold wind on your cheeks, but your car heater was working to warm you both back up. You arrived at the underground parking and headed towards the staircase when you heard your phone ring.

“Hello?” You answered into the device

“Y/n, it’s your father. He is in hospital, he really needs surgery but I was wondering if I could borrow some money from you? We will pay you back” your mother said her voice cracking with intense emotions.

“Which hospital? I will come straight over.” You asked, heading back to the car and Jin looked confused. “Go upstairs you know the pincode for the door and rest I will be home as soon as I can”

He nodded and followed your instruction retreating upstairs, you drove to the hospital and you got there and spoke with the doctor and your mother. Taking your savings and asking for a loan double the amount, you were able to pay for the surgery but it had left you in debt.

You waited until the surgeon stepped out to tell you how everything went and put your mind at ease before driving home knowing there wasn’t anything more you could do at the hospital. Jin was waiting on the couch looking nervous and you sat beside him on the couch.

Throwing your arm over your eyes and laying your head back on the couch, you let your tears flow. You didn’t know what you were saying when you turned Jin cheeks wet, “What would I get if I wished for money right now?”

“What happened to lifes’ surprises?” he teased, wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs, he pressed down as he rubbed them away as if they were personally offending him. His voice sounded scared and desperate, “The bad days make the good days good remember?”

“I don’t know, but, I will just have to make it work” You said crying into his chest until you were about to pass out and he scooped you into his arms and carried you to your bed where he tucked you in.

“If I asked, would you promise me to never make a wish?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, you had woken when he moved you but you didn’t want him to know that.

You fell asleep soon after, emotionally exhausted, waking only to the sound of the front door closing. Looking beside you and stretching out your arm, the sheets were cold and empty. Jin was gone. You ran out of bed and out the door.

You raced down the stairs but when you arrived he was disappearing on your doorstep, you paused panting feeling a weird sense of sadness you let him go heading back to the elevator the doors closed and you stared at the floor. The doors opened and you shuffled back to your apartment and sighed stepping inside.

There was a note in the drawer where the lamp had been.

To y/n,

I have always felt the presence of my lamp and found it on the first day, but out of curiosity about your intentions I stayed and over time I found myself enjoying the experiences you gave me. I admit my feelings began to grow from you being my client to being my friend. I realized I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want you to use this wish and end your life. Your life's better off without me, don’t ruin it, never trust anyone who says they are a genie, they will screw you over and take your soul as payment. I couldn’t stay. I don’t want to take you from this world. You and your fathers debts will get easier, you can get through this without me.

The handsome,

Jin

You saw wet spots blooming on the paper before you realized you were crying. He had just made the decision to leave for you, because you were now his friend. That is a boat load of crap, friends don’t kiss friends the way he did the night you were watching the fireworks. What were you supposed to do now? With him by your side you felt like you could take on the world, now you just felt your tiny apartment was too big.

Things weren’t easy, you were working twice as hard trying to pay the loan repayments. It had been three months since Jin had left and you just woke up at 10, the late shift and uni were kicking your butt. Dragging your feet you headed down the elevator in his pajamas to get the mail. Collecting the mail and heading back upstairs. You curiously opened the bank statement regarding how much you still owe when you saw your loan was already halved. There had been another account paying your debt as well. Your mother would send you half of the money to your personal account and you would pay the full amount, but who was this third party?

Your heart skipped a beat thinking it could be Jin, but you knew you couldn’t jump to conclusions. He had left and wouldn’t be bothered to do something like this. Looking at the statement it read in store payment at your local branch at the same time on the same day of the week.

12:30 Wednesday.

You looked at the clock, it was almost noon, you threw on your coat and shoes before running out the door. You rushed to the bank, racing inside. There he was standing in line in the pants and sweater you had bought for him. You were frozen in the doorway as he approached the woman at the counter.

“Back again?” the woman asked, “The same amount today?”

“Yes please,” He grinned. He handed over the cash and yawned,

“Have you been working the late shift again?” He looked tired, the dark under his eyes was a little scary, the woman gave him the receipt and he turned heading to the door. The very door where you were standing, his eyes met yours and he faltered, stopping.

He didn’t know what to say but he looked down and grinned for a moment, “You look good,” Looking at your clothes you remembered you had been wearing his oversized blue alpaca pajamas.

“You need to fix what you have done to my house,” You hissed and he looked confused, as you grabbed him by the hand and led him down the street. “Everything is wrong, I don’t know what you did but I want you to fix it, I can’t believe you would do something like that and then just leave, like it’s some sort of joke or prank.”

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” He said quietly, he was confused, not remembering having done anything when he left. “What happened to your house?”

“See for yourself,” you pulled him into the elevator and pressed the number for your floor, you felt an overwhelming emotion building up but you tried to swallow it back down.

He followed you to the door and you opened it up and pushed him inside, not wanting to risk that he might disappear behind you. He looked around as you pressed your back to the now securely closed door your arms crossed. “I don’t understand, what did I do?”

“Like you can’t see, Look how big the living room is, and the kitchen is too spacious and here when we used to sit there was so little space our knees would touch and now it's huge” You dragged him into the bathroom, trying to hide the way your chest was shaking with every breath, “This bench is too empty, your things used to sit there and there was hardly any room. And, And the bed, I don’t know what you did to the bed but it’s too wide, I can barely touch both sides and not too mention its always cold, it was never cold when you were here”

He looked at you sadly and he reached up wiping the tears from your cheeks, “I have done nothing to the house” He tried to soothe you, clutching his shirt you had buried your face against him and cried. “You know I didn’t do anything to the house.

“You left me alone and I don’t like it,” You whimpered,

“I wish I could stay and be just like a normal human who can love you but I can’t because I am not human,”

“I wish you were a human” He froze, pulling away and holding your face, he seemed a little excited.

“Do you really mean that?” He asked and you nodded looking up at him. Jin moved away and opened the lamp, tipping everything out, clothes and shoes and a million other things and he granted your wish. He still held the lamp and he grinned, spinning it around his finger and said “We could pawn this for a fair bit of money, yeah.”

If you enjoyed this please Like | Share so others can enjoy it as well. and check out my [MASTERLIST] for more like this content.

131 notes · View notes

oharascholar · 3 years

Text

Why Sanji meeting Yamato has LGBTQ+ readers on edge - Scholar’s Summaries #1

(Image originally posted to Tumblr by user Rumenta)

As the Wano arc in One Piece progresses steadily, the cast of the series expands ever more. Amongst the unique cast of new characters, we meet Kaido’s Son - Yamato, a young man who wishes to be just like the beloved ex-hero of the country, a man named Oden.

Yamato is an exciting character to see for many LGBTQ+ people like myself. He is a man who was assigned female at birth, who has plump lips, long eyelashes, and breasts. This, to many LGBTQ+ readers, and definitely to myself, brings up the idea of masculine people being allowed to exhibit traditionally ‘female’ body parts, and a comforting reminder that you can be a man without paying for gender-affirming surgery or binding your chest. This speaks to me as a transmasc nonbinary person - I, too, was assigned female at birth, refer to myself as a man, and have a traditionally female body in the same way. I do not once think of myself as a woman.

(One Piece Chapter 984, page 17 of 17. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 31)

My opinion of Yamato thus far, as a transmasc nonbinary person, has been entirely positive - I enjoy seeing a man who is openly referred to as a man in universe (for example, ‘Kaido’s Son’), who has features which are traditionally seen as non-masculine. It is how I feel about my own body - I rarely give a second thought to the fact that I have breasts. They don’t make me any less masculine, and I tend not to dwell on them at all. It makes me feel happy to see a character who I can truly relate to on such a personal level.

Yamato is a positively portrayed character in the series, and is a supporting character to our main protagonist, Luffy. He plays an important role in fighting against the main villain of this arc. He was even shown to be good friends with Portgaz D. Ace, one of the most beloved supporting characters in the series - even giving Ace the much important ‘vivre card’ which played a vital role in the Marineford Arc. Yamato is given plot importance within the story as a whole with this, linking him throughout the story.

(One Piece Chapter 1000, page 9 of 19 first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2021, issue 5-6)

It is also easy, as a transmasc person, to read heavily into Yamato’s situation with his father. Initially, it seems positive - Kaido refers to Yamato as his son openly. To an outsider, Kaido accepts Yamato’s identity... Then enter the ‘Oden’ issue.

Yamato wishes to be just like Kozuki Oden on all fronts, changing his appearance to try and look just like him. This part of Yamato’s identity has caused contemption in Kaido, with Yamato even recounting that Kaido would beat him over it. Ever since Yamato first wanted to be like Oden, from the age of eight, Kaido has kept him shackled up inside of his residence.

Yamato states that he can’t truly be Oden until he is free of his shackles given to him by his father. To many, this strikes as a direct parallel towards living in a transphobic household.

When Luffy, a character who has represented liberation throughout the series, first tries to remove these shackles, Yamato is instinctively afraid. He explains that the shackles will explode, and that they’ve been on him for twenty years. He also ponders if he is being kept in by a lie - wondering if his father would really let his son be blown up for merely leaving the island.

(One Piece Chapter 985, page 9 of 19. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 33-34)

No matter how you put it, Yamato is transgender. Though it has not been officially stated as such, it seems to be heavily implied that he is a transgender man, without issue.

Yamato instinctively wants to keep the status quo, one which technically keeps him safe, at the expense of his identity and freedom. The danger, of course, is purely created by his father. This something which many transgender people can resonate with, the idea of staying ‘in the closet’ so as to not cause contemption within your family.

Luffy removes the shackles and throws them away, causing them to explode - this event causes Yamato to become enraged and upset, stating that he no longer thinks of Kaido as his father. This is a powerful moment, the act of breaking the ties with an abusive parent who does not accept his identity.

It is important to be aware of why Elizabeth or Tibany was so offensive, whilst Yamato feels progressive. Transgender women in media are often presented as predatory, as if they were men in dresses who only want to prey on young men, and Elizabeth is a prime example of the worst of this transmysogynistic stereotype. Had this character been on their lonesome, along a multitude of other transgender women with different body types, and had Elizabeth not been predatory, this would be a fine character. Transgender women and transfem people as a whole should not feel guilty to exhibit as much body hair as they like, and to have as deep of a voice as they like, without worry of being mocked or ridicule.

… Or, without issue, so far.

Sanji appears to be on a direct collision course for one Young Master Yamato, which puts a lot of anxiety into LGBTQ+ readers. Rightfully so, as in the past, Sanji has been used as a vehicle for horrific transphobia in the series, as touched on by the One Piece Podcast in text and in audio. This alone brings up multiple concerns - the most worrying of all is the possibility that Yamato has been a long setup for a particularly horrific transphobic punchline. The author, Eiichiro Oda, has been more than capable of writing transphobia into his series before, such as with the character Elizabeth (or Tibany, as this character is known in the manga), a transgender woman coded character who is a walking offensive stereotype - even acting in a predatory way towards young men. There is definitely a certain validity behind such worries.

But, when the only representation in this part of One Piece is predatory people with deep voices and stubble all over, you can see why this is completely different to Yamato exhibiting breasts and such.

(Chapter 543, page 1 of 20. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2009, issue 26 / Chapter 994, page 17 or 17, first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 48)

Another concerning path is that Sanji will see Yamato and fawn all over him - only for him to act horrified and disgusted upon hearing Yamato affirm that he is a man. During the infamous Fishman Island arc, Sanji had a life-saving blood transfusion given to him by two transgender-coded women - this alone was enough for him to start screaming and flipping himself around the bed in horror - a truly upsetting act of transmisogyny that many agree should never have been put in the series at all.

However, our combined worries may be for nothing. Oda has also written nonbinary and transgender characters who have been delightful to witness, and have been much accepted and adored by the LGBTQ+ community as a whole - Characters such as Bentham, a character who can shapeshift and monologues about their gender, or Kiku, a transgender woman in the current arc, who has been portrayed respectfully thus far, being in the series for almost 100 chapters. There is still hope that Oda has changed his ways from his dark Fishman Island Days.

In the most hopeful outcome, this meeting will serve as a character growth point - Sanji has matured as a character, and is ready to treat transgender people as human beings. This outcome seems tantalisingly possible to me, especially since characters will openly reffer to Yamato as male without issue.

(One Piece Chapter 979, page 14 of 17. First Published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 23.)

Another hopeful outcome is that Sanji will simply not address it - but it certainly seems intentional that Oda has sent Sanji specifically towards Yamato, and I am certain that there is a reason. But, notably, Sanji had a meeting with Kiku in a similar vein, and nothing of note happened in that interaction.

I myself dearly hope that the day will not come where I look at this article and think, ‘This has aged horribly.’. I have a lot of faith in Eiichiro Oda to do the right thing - especially since almost 10 years has passed since his last major act of transphobia and transmisogyny. Surely, in today’s climate, and with the progressive nature of One Piece as a whole, he has learnt and is ready to write the LGBTQ+ characters that are respectful and progressive as a whole, without falling back on poor-taste punchlines.

As for now, only time will tell the true nature of Eiichiro Oda in 2021. Or, as many of us like to put it … "Who knows with this guy?!"

The Ohara Scholar / Róisí “Puppy” Law, 17th April 2021

#One Piece #Not Archival #Scholar's Summaries #ScholarSpeaks

51 notes · View notes

phantomthiefsbitch · 3 years

Text

phantom thief au oneshots p1

"Are you sure we can get away with this?" "Oh no, I'm just bringing you here because I knew we were gonna get caught! Obviously!" "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not at this point." The moon shone over the cracked sidewalk, making the raindrops glimmer like diamonds in the warm sunlight. Skyscrapers towered over everything in sight, blinding us to the far sides of the city. I was assigned a mission. A mission to find the world-renowned phantom thief and send him to justice. Pfft, that's easier said than done. The main plan was simple really. Pretend to be on his side, lure him to an obscure area no one can see, and put him in cuffs. We continued walking towards where ever the hell he was leading me. You'd think a rational person would've backed out. I mean, he could be taking me anywhere! He could be taking me to a fucking torture chamber for all I know! But I'm almost 100% sure that where ever he was taking me, wasn't going to harm me in any way. You see, the thing about the phantom thief is that he hasn't been loved much in his years, meaning if you treat him with the smallest bit of consideration he'll never ever forget it. Fortunately for me, I've studied human psychology for quite some time now, and I've been trying to understand him more using that knowledge. "Welp, we're here!" We stood before the grand building decorated with bright neon lights, forming the words "CASINO" in huge bold lettering creating a city-wide purple light source. Is this really where he was taking me? It seemed so noticeable and obvious. "There's no way in hell that we aren't gonna get caught in there! Are you out of your mi-" I felt a warm finger brush over my lips as I looked down, finding myself staring directly into his eyes. Shhhh, I promise we won't get caught. I have a plan! Just follow my lead, 'kay?!" He lifted his hand off my chin and clutched my hand, walking me to the entrance as he pulled out a key from his hand and unlocked the enormous wooden door. Immediately as we entered, the scent of booze and air freshener filled my lungs. The walls were painted with a red and black checkerboard pattern, complimenting the black marble floor which was covered in old magazines, cigarettes, and empty beer cans. "I know, I know, this isn't the greatest place! But don't worry, my dearest detective, there's more! Follow me!" He ran to a small hallway that blended in with the walls in the corner of the room, leading me to a silver elevator, lined with gold string, making it look like a child's birthday party. The button on the left lit up as he aggressively clicked it, making the doors open into a rather cramped space. The clamping of his boots against the hard marble floor echoed throughout the building as he stepped into the elevator. "Where are you taking me?! I asked for a meetup spot, not a casino!" "Nee-heehee! A casino is technically a meetup a lot, silly! And either way, the whole casino thing is just a disguise for what this place actually is!" The elevator door slowly creaked open, revealing a calm little room. There were maybe around 9 or 10 people there, all doing something different. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to D.I.C.E's headquarters!" he shouted, even though I was the only one entering the room.

[7:18 PM]"Hey, don't you think it's a bit...err...irresponsible to show the person trying to capture you your gang's headquarters? I mean, what if I was with the police?!" "Now now, it's not time to worry about that! Let's just relax! Hey guys, could you leave me and Shuichi alone for a while?! Go to your rooms or something!" As if they were robots, they all got up and walked to the doors with their suitable nametags on them. His smile slowly dropped as he put his hand on my shoulder, looking me dead in the eyes. "Is something wrong?" "Don't play dumb. How could my dear detective do this? I thought maybe someone, anyone, could care about me or even just listen to what I had to say! But it seems as if I was wrong..." Even though he was a liar, he sounded genuinely upset and betrayed. No matter how hard I tried fighting it, I really did feel awful for him. No matter how bad he was, he didn't deserve this. "N-No, you've got it wrong!" I was just following instructi-"

"Oh come on, there's no need to lie! But y'know, I do think there was some truth to your act. Even as a liar myself, the way you talked to me, it was definitely an act out of lust. I mean, if it really was a lie, I'm both upset that you lied to me and proud of how amazing of a liar you are! But I seriously doubt that you were lying." I quickly took my handcuffs out, trying to hide how nervous I was. "You're under arrest. Don't try resisting any further." "Awww, what a shame! But unfortunately, I can't let you arrest me! Sorry not sorry!" "I have a weapon." I exclaimed, pointing my tazer directly at him, feeling my body sway back and forth slowly.

"Nee-heehee! And I don't?" I flinched as he cocked his gun, putting it so close I could feel it brush against my forehead. "I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you try something. I know you don't wanna turn me in. You really do wanna understand me right? Don't you wanna know why a villian like me does so many bad things? Actually, you don't need to answer that. I know you do! So just listen to my plan, 'kay?! You're gonna go over to the cops and tell them that you couldn't catch me in time. Just give me a chance, alright? I mean, you obviously don't have a choice!" His slender fingertips traced my face as he glared deep into my eyes. "You're really pretty, you know that?" My face flushed into a light red shade which I quickly fought against. "Aww, someone's nervous! Well no wonder, you have a gun to your head! Soooo, do we have a deal or not?! Just a reminder, you only choice is yes!" I should've said no, tazed him, and put him in handcuffs. I should've stopped him. But something inside me, I don't know, fear? Lust? Nervousness? Something inside me just didn't let me do that. "Y-Yeah, okay." "Nee-heehee! Yay! Hey, by the way, can I have your number?! Don't you want the nitty-gritty details of my plan?! I know you do!" ... "Riiiight, well, here's my totally legit business card! Alright, bye bye now!" I thought he'd leave a normal way, like through the elevator we came from or like, go back into his room. Nope. He opened a window, falling backwards into the late night streets giggling. No matter how much I tried to bury it, he was right. I felt drawn to him, more than just being curious about his lies and his motives. Maybe I was trying to deny it, not because I was scared of getting fired, but in fear for my own life.

#saiouma #phantom thief au #oumasai #shukichi #oneshots #fluff #phantom thief #danganronpa #drv3 #danganronpa v3

25 notes · View notes

kiwi-bitchez · 5 years

Note

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut.

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you.

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable.

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party.

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough.

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish.

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card.

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction.

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.”

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.”

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you.

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra.

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.”

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to.

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.”

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him.

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.”

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly.

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look.

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind.

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face.

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation.

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face.

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft.

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching.

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor.

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes.

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.”

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.”

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #smut #marvel smut #college!au #enemies to lovers #ask #suggestion #frat!tom #fratboy!tom #frat!tom holland

1K notes · View notes

simpingforthisonedeer · 4 years

Link

Chapter 8: Tempestuous I

SFW version here

Summary: Aika watches Julius become King; Julius goes to make his annual visit to the Swallowtail and shenanigans happen.

Notes: This chapter was actually supposed to be a lil over 10k words um 😳😳😳 but I cut it 60/40 so I'll post the next chapter next week for sure bc it's already finished. I made a lot of changes like taking away the assasination attempt that was supposed to happen this chapter. Also, there's one offhanded line that is NSFW but that's all for the chapter.

One of you have already read all 10k but don’t say anything okay? ;)))

@talpup here you go hehehe

@kray-dragon you said you wanted to read 👉👈

Aika felt light despite the exhaustion weighing her down as the excited murmur of the crowd surrounded her. It has been two days since the battle and Diamond Kingdom’s surrender, but she would give them a few months before starting a ruckus again. Nevertheless, the peace and relief that it brought to Clover Kingdom had the gathered crowd in high spirits, especially since they knew that Julius was the one who delivered the final blow.

The Grey Deers were especially rowdy near the front, no doubt ecstatic that their former Captain was now Wizard King. The ceremony was already done in private and this occasion was just to introduce the new Wizard King to the public so he may be welcomed.

She stood atop Clover castle’s outer walls with her associates as she spectated, while also keeping an eye out for any trouble.

Music played loudly to her right and the crowd grew excited as the seven new captains walked on stage.

Fuegoleon Vermillion for the Crimson Lions, Nozel Silva for the Silver Eagles, Jack the Ripper for the Green Mantises, Dorothy Unsworth for the Coral Peacocks, Charlotte Roselei for the Blue Roses, Gueldre Poizot for the Purple Orcas, and Jien Du for the Grey Deers.

It was truly a remarkable sight from a historical point of view because all the captains were replaced and all of them were around the same age, meaning that this trend would continue for a few more generations.

The crowd grew quiet in anticipation after all the Captains settled into their respective places on the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A disembodied voice exclaimed. “Put your hands together for our new Wizard King,” A handsome man wearing a voluminous cloak of deep red, shouldering a white, furred cape, adorned with medals and a cross emerged from the depths of Clover Castle.

“Julius Novachrono!”

The crowd exploded with approval as their cheers, screams and applause filled the air. The sudden noise startled Aika but thankfully, she barely had any mana after the battle so none accidentally escaped. She couldn’t see him clearly from where she was standing but she certainly noticed how he squared his shoulders as he cast his gaze across the sea of people.

Their voices seemed to soar high into the heavens and she couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Jayce was hollering his heart out next to her, screaming how he was Julius’ number one fan. He had been standing close to the former Captain when he eviscerated the enemy two days ago and had been starstruck ever since.

Ellie clapped politely as Evan let out a whistle or two. Aika would have clapped as well but she was leaning heavily against the edge of the wall, barely even able to stand up straight. She had already suffered the indignity of asking Jayce and Evan to help her walk as if she was some frail, old grandma. She would not also cause a commotion by trying to stand and then fall.

“And finally, please welcome your honorable king,” the announcer stumbled on the last few words. “Augustus Kira Clover the 13th!”

The applause was much more muted and they barely let out a cheer or two. Augustus looked outraged at the gathered crowd and opened his mouth to make his displeasure known but Julius quickly cleared his voice before their “honorable” king could and began his first speech as the Wizard King. Aika listened keenly, secretly reveling in his familiar voice. He spoke at length about hope, faith and love and ended his speech with a hopeful message that had everyone grinning and cheering once again.

Aika leaned back far enough so she could clap this time because she was blown away by the absolute natural way he commanded the stage and the crowd. He was made for this.

Then, the Grey Deers who were standing guard at the front split the sea of people so Julius could go step down to greet and interact with the citizens themselves. The crowd allowed the Magic Knights to create a human barrier for one moment as the new Wizard King planted his feet on level ground, before chaos ensued. People pried the barrier apart and the knights were powerless to use magic in such a cramped space.

Aika tensed for a moment, thinking there was going to be an attack but let out a surprised laugh when she realized the situation. Women threw themselves at Julius, nearly tearing his robes apart and Aika nearly fell backwards with laughter at the sight of him trying to dodge their kisses.

Evan, Jayce and Ellie shared a nervous look as they got ready to catch her if she was actually going to fall. They have never seen their boss so exuberant when she was sober in all the 6 years that they have known her. Aika caught their looks and quickly pursed her lips, an uncontrollable grin still spread across her face.

“Cheer up, you three. I can actually laugh now,” she said teasingly.

“We’ve noticed,” Evan murmured, sending a careful look at Jayce, silently begging him to think before he spoke.

“Yeah, you seem to be in a better mood. Are you and the Wizard King really fu—” Ellie smacked him upside the head before he could finish.

Too late.

Aika’s cheery disposition quickly dissipated.

“No, Jayce,” she said, her voice cold. “As far as everyone is concerned, nothing ever happened at all, understood?”

The crowd standing around on the wall with them started moving for the exits to make their way to the festivities in the plaza. Ellie looped her arm with Aika’s and Evan took her other arm so they could help her walk. She threw a disappointed look at Jayce and sighed. He flushed in embarrassment and rubbed his head apologetically.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where to, Miss?” Ellie asked as her grimoire fluttered open, throwing a deadpan look at Jayce.

“To my home in Hage, please,” she sighed again as she looked back at Julius among the crowd as he tried to fend them off. Aika turned away before the first pangs of jealousy and longing could hit her. It was just a silly crush.

A portal opened in front of them at her behest and they quickly stepped through it before the crowd could jostle them around. With Ellie’s spatial magic, she assisted Aika with errands, delivered messages, helped her travel around the world and sometimes even provided support in battle.

Aika sighed contentedly at the transition from the loud crowd to the peaceful noises of nature in the countryside. She felt old at this thought.

They quickly ushered her into the house and helped her sit in her armchair. She stretched out in her seat and groaned at the sore feeling sufusing through her limbs. Her backpack, which she nearly never took off, poked her uncomfortably in the back but she put up with it anyway.

Aika opened her eyes slightly and her three protégés were looking at her with various levels of concern. She let out an amused huff as she waved them off.

“This is normal. You three should be used to this by now.”

“I mean, you warned us,” Ellie began as she lightly scratched her white, coily hair. “But we have never seen you perform a spell that big so we didn’t know what to expect.”

“I suppose that is true,” Aika hummed before wincing as pain unexpectedly coursed through her body. Jayce urgently strode into the kitchen at this.

“I was initially doubtful if you could handle my spell, Miss,” Evan admitted as he looked down at his hands. “I was completely ready to let the spell loose even at the expense of our allies if it meant we could weaken or even defeat the enemy.”

“Evan.” He looked up at Aika’s unexpectedly strong tone. “I would never put you in a position where you have to make such difficult decisions.” She smiled reassuringly. “I have only asked you to perform the spell because I knew I could handle it. If there is anything that you can depend on in me, it’s that I know my limits. Please have more faith in me.”

He blinked slowly at her heartfelt words, before he smiled boyishly.

“But you’re still pretty weak from it,” he retorted uncharacteristically.

“It was worth it, was it not?” she quipped back, happy that her little speech didn’t sour his mood too much.

Jayce came back from the kitchen with a slightly wet towel and handed it to Aika with a concerned look.

“Here.”

“Jayce…” She shook her head at this gesture with a small smile. It was his way of apologizing for his words earlier. “It is alright. You don’t have to worry too much.”

“Heh,” he carded his fingers through his hair. “If you say so, boss.”

“I have a new assignment for you guys,” Aika quickly began when she noticed Ellie’s mischievous smile. If she started teasing him, an argument was sure to erupt.

They turned to her attentively.

“I have noticed residues of forbidden magic in the abandoned cottage near the church here. It isn’t anything urgent and I’d like for you three to enjoy the festivities in the capital, so take the day off and in a day or two, I’d like for you three to report on your findings, alright?” Aika would have joined them but she was too weak to move in her state so she’ll take a well-deserved break for today. She eyed the gift bag by the entryway. She put together a few gifts for Julius, hoping to give to him today as a sort of welcome but she lacked the energy to move so it would have to be at another date.

She needed to get a lot of work done. She had to clean out both this house and the Wizard King’s study, where she spent most of the time working, so Julius could use it instead. Master Raymond wasn’t the reading type so he leased it to her for free and she enjoyed that space and she had a feeling Julius would too. Speaking of the headquarters,

“Don’t forget that you also have your day jobs at the headquarters, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” They saluted her eagerly.

Aika nodded proudly. She was slowly introducing them to working in environments immersed in forbidden magic so they could take on bigger field assignments in the future. They were still young, only in their early twenties, so she should be careful about how such magic would affect their mental development, seeing as it completely fucked up hers. She would like to think she was fine, but she really wasn’t.

They bid her goodbye with their bright smiles, exuding youth in every way Aika wished she could feel at the moment. Though she stopped aging properly at twenty-five, maybe twenty-six years, weg magic was exhausting and she felt like she had been living longer than she should. It was probably because she hadn’t properly slept in over a decade and a half.

Aika laid the cold towel across her nape with a sigh, though the sensory overload from the pain made everything, including the texture of the towel, seem unpleasant. She shrugged one strap off of her shoulder so she could push the backpack aside and the rune on her forehead began to itch lightly—

Wait a minute, she sat up straight.

There was a Swallowtail filled with her magic in the woods behind the church. Wait. There were also mini-Swallowtails in her backpack right now. She could recover her magic faster this way. In her excitement, Aika nearly forgot she couldn’t use the Swallowtails inside her loft because they power various magic stones for heat, light, water, ventilation, preservation and some miscellaneous experiments.

Aika leaned back and groaned.

This meant that she must get to the big Swallowtail herself. She could ask Ellie for help but none of them except maybe Julius and herself know about the Swallowtail and they most certainly don’t know about her Time Magic. Most people thought Aika was a weak water mage who was physically strong, used forbidden magic to make up for her shortcomings, and could use a sword well.

She needed to keep her real attribute a secret because states with more sinister plans have hunted her in the past. So much so that they even threatened to destroy their own allies. That part of history was rewritten by Arthur. He stopped a war and changed everyone’s memories and in exchange, he got Holly.

She buried the memories once more as she locked her joints and stood up carefully. No point in dwelling on things she couldn’t change.

There was an old broom in the closet that she could use to get to the Swallowtail. She walked carefully, leaning on the furniture along the way. Aika stifled any groans and put her weight on the wall next to the closet door and opened it. She paused.

There were bloodstains everywhere.

It must have been from when Arthur was stabbed and bound in here.

Aika sighed as she added another task on her to-do list and picked up the broom next to creaky hinges of the closet door. She gently eased herself onto it and smiled in relief. It would be easier to move this way.

She quickly shot out of the house, relishing in the speed in contrast to her turtle-like pace the whole day and took the straightest path to the Swallowtail.

Julius extricated himself from the last of the women as Marx made a way for him to escape the crowd. He was hoping to maybe talk to them, maybe leave a more personal impression on them, but today was not his day apparently.

“Sir, are you alright?” Marx asked as they quickly strode into a side entrance to the castle. Julius chuckled lightly as he rubbed his lipstick-smeared cheek.

“Yes, of course, Marx. Just a little...violated.”

Marx smiled as he let out a huff. “I will be very honest with you, sir. I didn’t think that was going to work.”

“Well, perhaps I should organize a town hall so it would be more regulated.”

“I will see if your schedule allows it in the near future, sir.”

He smiled in gratitude as Marx shook his head.

“Alright, well, I got a message that the preparations for the banquet are nearly done and it would begin in an hour—”

“Marx, would you take care of that?” Julius interjected suddenly.

“Sir?”

“An hour is perfect. I have an important errand I must attend to and it won’t take me long…” He finished quietly, knowing he wouldn’t believe him.

“An errand today?” Marx asked, his voice raising up a notch. “An errand on one of the most important days of your life?”

His annual trip to the Swallowtail so he could deposit his magic just happened to fall on the day he became Wizard King. And a few minutes alone might also do him some good. The weight of what he had just accepted still hasn’t properly set in.

“Um, yes?”

“Julius!”

“It will only take me a few minutes!” He put his hands together pleadingly. “Please?”

Marx let out a heavy sigh as rubbed his temples. He just hoped he wouldn’t be as irresponsible as to miss the banquet entirely.

“Alright, fine. But you better not be looking at magic when I come looking for you!”

Julius grinned in reply.

“Of course! Thank you, Marx!”

In a blink, he quickly phased out and landed in the forest clearing where the ancient magic item was. The sudden change in environment and the heavy weight of the robes grounded him to his current situation.

It was utterly surreal. He was Wizard King.

Julius let out a hysterical laugh as he rested his head against the Swallowtail.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as his fingers clawed at the cool, metal surface. He could finally help Clover Kingdom for the better. There were so many things he could do, so many things he could change.

Starting off with the Magic Knights. Incentivize and reward good behavior, send more knights to patrols realms where they aren’t accustomed to so they learn to like and protect people below their class, even involve himself in policy as Aika had suggested and think about education. The next generation are the future after all.

His mind was racing with ideas but he took calming breaths before he completely lost his cool. He still had a banquet to attend and nobles to pander to.

He looked intently at the giant, six-pointed star on the Swallowtail as he gathered his thoughts. He should finish his business soon. The sooner he put his mana in, the sooner he could recover it. He slowly started pouring his mana into the ball. He also needed to make sure he had enough left to teleport back.

Julius turned as he felt a presence moving towards him at high speeds. He stopped as he squinted at the figure on a broom, their form silhouetted by the Sun behind them.

His vision grew blurry momentarily as he prepared to transform. It would be a strange and suspicious sight to see the new Wizard King in the Boonies. But before he could do anything, the mysterious person landed in the clearing at an unnatural speed.

Julius’ eyes widened when he realized who it was.

“Aika?”

When Aika landed near the Swallowtail, she couldn’t believe who it was. She scrambled off of her broom and used it like a staff to lean on.

She could clearly see all of Julius now, no longer a bright, robed figure in the distance.

And my god was he a sight to behold.

His medals shone in the sun and his red, velvet cloak made him look like the king he was. When her eyes met his, they glinted gold for a moment and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Though, the effect was slightly dampened by the fact that he was covered in lipstick marks.

“Aika?” he asked disbelievingly. She brought three fingers to her chest in a salute as she tamped down any tremors, whether it was because of her fatigue or emotions.

“Your Highness,” she intoned as she bowed her head. That’s it. He was only the Wizard King to her. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Oh,” he exhaled in amusement. “There’s no need for that. We are way past that. Please,” he said reassuringly. “Call me ‘Julius.’”

Aika’s face gingerly lit up into a grin. The expression felt strange on her face but she couldn’t help it. She was simply glad that they weren’t going to be awkward. She clutched her broom tighter before she could fall as she spoke.

“Well then, congratulations on becoming Wizard King, Julius,” she walked sluggishly towards the Swallowtail, still facing him. “How do you feel?”

His jaw fell slightly, momentarily surprised by her nonchalance. Most people’s attitude changed in the few moments he walked in his Wizard King attire. Even Marx, whom he was most familiar with, grew more serious. But he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He seemed to be “just Julius” to her no matter how he was. His chest tightened at the thought. It was a strange sensation.

Julius rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin as he relaxed. There was no need for him to be officious with her after all had been said and done.

“Well, the feeling hasn’t quite set it,” he began. “But, I do suddenly feel the urge to do something, change something,” he confessed, his eyes shining with determination. After their night of shared vulnerability, no matter how sourly it had ended, it felt natural to be himself with her.

He couldn’t help but grin when she looked away with a secretive smile. He knew he still had a chance. He simply needed to go slow this time.

“That’s good. I’m eager to see what kind of revolution you would raise.”

Julius had plans to make connections at the banquet and he had already had a draft of an awards system somewhere in his head. But for now, it was only them in this clearing. He could be himself. He pressed a finger to his lips and leaned forward as if to share a secret.

“Shh, don’t tell anyone though,” he said playfully. “It’s a secret.”

Aika giggled despite herself.

“I suppose you are going to change the kingdom before the nobles even realize.”

“Exactly! You—” He quickly caught her as she stumbled. “Get it…” he finished quietly, concern strewn across his face.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Julius asked as he looked over her. She was beginning to sweat as she took shallow breaths. “Are you alright?”

Aika exhaled sharply when pain shot up her back.

“I’m fine,” she lied, waving him off as her jaw clenched. It didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“No, you are not,” he hissed.

“Fine, I’m not,” she snapped back. “Just help me get close to the Swallowtail.” She stiffened when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Julius noticed and silently apologized as he guided her delicately.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

She sighed as she pressed herself against the magic device. There is no harm in telling him and he would need to know just in case he ever needed for her to do a forbidden spell or a ritual.

“I’m still weak from the spell on Saturday.” She brought the mana in the device carefully up to the surface and she felt her strength returning to her, bit-by-bit.

“Spell?” His brows furrowed. “What spell?”

“Remember the giant, blue fireball?” His eyes widened. She quickly clarified before he could think it was her who summoned fire. “Evan was the one who conjured up the fireball, not me. But he can’t control the spell so I had to use weg magic to take control of the spell and guide it towards the enemy while holding them in place.”

Julius looked at her with virtual stars in his eyes.

“So that Mana Zone spell was yours? And you guided that Sun in the sky?”

Aika grew bashful at the admiration in his tone.

“Ah, well, I had a lot of practice for Mana Zone and it wasn’t that big. I’ve seen bigger fireball spells,” she murmured as she bit her lip.

“Bigger—” He took a double take as the twinkle in his eyes shone brighter. “Where!? I want to see a bigger fireball!”

She laughed at the cute expression on his face.

“I’ll show you sometime,” she promised as she continued to fill up her mana reserves. Aika was silently glad her plan worked. She was no longer sore all over, no doubt the life essence of her mana healing her, and she could stand unsupported.

Julius looked curiously between her hand and the Swallowtail.

“But why do you seem to be in pain? Fatigue is common for mana exhaustion but I have never heard of pain,” he remarked as he laid his own hand next to her, slowly sending out his magic into it. It was what he originally came here for after all.

She sighed heavily. Just thinking about it exhausted her.

“It is one of the side effects of using large amounts of corrupted magic. It is quite harmful to a human body.” Aika explained the long list of effects and how incapacitated it leaves her. “It’s quite painful but it’s incredibly useful so it has its pros and cons.”

She felt flattered by the worry on his face.

“Are there any long-term effects?”

“No, not that—” Well, there was the negative mana affecting everyone around her but it was only because of one ritual years ago. Using more negative magic hadn’t exasperated it thankfully. “Not that I’m aware of, no.”

Julius touched his chin thoughtfully as she continued.

“But please don’t hesitate to ask me to do any spells or rituals for the sake of the kingdom,” she laughed wryly. “I am the only person who could do them after all.”

“Ah, no, no. If it affects you this badly, I would never even think of asking you,” he assured her with a shining smile.

Aika fought off a grin. That...was really kind of him. Her Uncle was quick to jump on the offer and she was glad to be of use to help this kingdom but the concern…Her heart beat quickly at the thought.

No!

She mentally shook her head. He should be more concerned about the kingdom not her! What if she could help where no one could?

“Please don’t think of me, think of the kingdom. If I could help, then I would. Whether you accept my help or not is an entirely different matter.”

Due to being particularly sensitive to magic at the moment because of the newly acquired mana, she felt a stab of Julius’ magic hit her.

“And besides, I like using it,” she whispered, the real truth unexpectedly slipping out.

What. Did he just—

She quickly masked her shock and met his gaze. He surprisingly didn’t seem disgusted or judgemental at her confession. He just seemed lost in thought as he stared back at her.

“I see,” he simply uttered, his tone giving away nothing.

Usually, any other person’s first instinct would be to get mad at forcing the truth out of them, but Aika, who was quite adept at using backhanded tactics, was very impressed and curious. How on Earth could he use such magic? It seemed like a part of his natural attribute. He truly had a limitless magic potential. He could use Time Magic but that didn’t stop him from using some form of spatial and transformation magic, but also a hidden magic spell perhaps that could induce the truth out of somebody. And here she was, thinking he was a straight-laced, goody two-shoes Wizard King.

But, no real King is truly virtuous.

She cleared her throat before a giddy smile could slip through. It would have been exhausting to work with someone with a strict moral compass. Though, she shouldn’t be surprised after seeing him on the battlefield. He was terrifying.

“Well, I suppose you did help us gain a massive advantage with your help on the battlefield the other day. If you hadn’t wiped out the Diamond army, taking on both Spade and Diamond would have been disastrous for our troops.”

Aika hummed in agreement and decided to say nothing. Being complimented by anyone other than her Uncle was strange. No one could recognize her efforts because the Amulet of Ignorance ensured it and she preferred it that way.

A question struck her when she realized where they were.

“Julius?”

He looked at her questioningly.

“Why are you here in the first place? Don’t you have a banquet to attend?”

He grinned widely as he lifted his palm off of the Swallowtail.

“The banquet is in about half an hour and I’ve come to make my annual trip to deposit some magic in the Swallowtail. You know, for emergencies such as yours,” he winked slyly.

Aika nodded in understanding, rolling her eyes at his jibe. She had also left some of her magic in there for emergencies.

“Well, you should clean up before going to the banquet then,” she said, looking pointedly at the ridiculous lipstick dotting his face. She threw her leg over the broom, ready to leave.

“Wait!” He quickly stopped her, an arm reaching out. “Could I drop you off at your place? You might still be tired.”

“Yes,” she blurted out. She was going to be her own ruin. Why was she doing this to herself?

“Great!” He placed a hand on her shoulder and they immediately found themselves in Aika’s living room.

“May I use the bathroom to wash my face?” Julius asked innocently. Oh, he was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?

“That lipstick won’t come off with water. Most lipsticks used by women in the Noble Realm are magicked to stick on whatever surface they are applied on and the kind they used was the type of lipstick used to ‘mark people,’” she explained as she walked away. “I’ll go get some wipes for you.” He also seemed determined to stick around and he wasn’t even hiding it. Aika sighed internally. She needed to keep him at an arm's length. Even she cannot resist temptation.

Lost in her thoughts, she walked back to where Julius was, carrying a few wet wipes specifically made to wipe off makeup. Before she could realize what she was doing, she placed a wipe on his cheek as she angled his face to the side with her other hand.

The moment her bare hand touched his chin, Aika began to panic, though none showed on her face. In her mind, she began swearing in all the languages she knew, putting even the most seasoned sailors to shame. She was so used to tending to people that she completely forgot her determination to avoid these kinds of situations at all costs so her crush could go away, but, nooo.

And once she did something, she always stuck through. There was no backing out now.

Aika began wiping his face without hesitation but that didn’t stop her from berating herself.

Oh my fucking god. You are a fool, a whole clown, Aika. You should just quit your life, change your name and join your ex-fiance’s circus as a clown. It would fit you very well. Start practicing your honking now, you numbnut.

Wait, did he react? Wait, I don’t want to know. Oh, shit. I definitely want to know. No, you don’t. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook.

She looked.

Julius was staring right into her very soul from underneath his lashes.

She quickly averted her eyes, a blush rising to her face as her heart seemed determined to break free from her ribcage. She regulated her breaths and willed them to be normal. Thankfully, she had a lot of practice.

But then, he ducked his head so she could have better access and innocuously pressed his cheek into her palm. To top it all off, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

That’s it. Aika was dying. She was having a heart attack. She wanted to scream so badly. She could feel the room spin around her.

Why? Why did you lean in? Have you no shame? A woman wipes your face and you start making bedroom eyes at her? Oh my god ohmygodohmygod.

How she wished she had her amulet now. If she wore it for a while, everyone except a select few would forget she even existed.

Aika stared at his serene smile, his eyes still closed.

A frown crawled up her face. She started wiping faster, cradling his cheek with her hand while she wiped the few spots on his neck.

She refused to corrupt someone as sweet as him.

“What’s that face for?” Julius piped up, startling her. “Jealous?” he smirked.

Wow, you are completely shameless. Wait— Jealous?

“Oh, sure.” Aika rolled her eyes. “I’m jealous of the women who virtually attacked the Wizard King like a bunch of harpys, marking him with magic lipstick,” She leaned closer to his ear. “While I had his head between my legs.”

He turned away, blushing as he covered his mouth. Finally , he seemed flustered. He did not expect her to retort when she herself was panicking. Aika stepped away as she smirked, satisfied that there was no more lipstick nor that overconfident expression on his face.

“I’ll swing by your office tomorrow to drop some stuff off,” Aika called out as she walked away into the kitchen. Julius shook his head as he gathered himself and followed her. A blush still present on his face, he leaned against the doorframe as he watched Aika move around the kitchen. The very same kitchen where he was turned down.

“What stuff?”

He asked quietly as he buried the memories. Hopefully it wasn’t any kind of paperwork.

“Some stuff to help you as Wizard King and some other things I thought you might like.”

That peaked his interest.

“Oh? What kind of things?”

“Julius,” Aika turned to him, exasperated. “Don’t you have a banquet to get to?”

“You want to get rid of me already?” He asked cheekily, very reminiscent of that day.

“No, but I’m sure you would enjoy a good surprise as much as the next person and I really think you should go.” Her face softened. “Don’t you think it’s strange enough that you stuck around this long?” she asked quietly.

He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve.

“Maybe,” he looked up at her. “But it’s only so I could just be myself before I have to go deal with nobles,” he smiled wryly. “I find politics rather boring, you see. I‘m putting it off as much as possible.”

“Diplomacy is what gets things done in your position,” Aika imparted as she turned back around to arrange the dishes in the cabinet. Her aunt and uncle will move in tonight so she has to get everything in order.

If Julius finds politics boring, then he may not be as effective. She quickly needed to rid him of that mindset. It would be hard to implement changes if he wasn’t persuasive or have any positive connections with the higher-ups.

“If you find it boring, I suggest you talk about your ideas and plans and observe who are open and who are not. You are quite impassioned about the things you like but I also suggest you keep the topics relevant,” she added lightly as she threw a smile over her shoulder. “Your ideas may also come off naive to the wrong people and could turn away many supporters but you have to stand your ground. Putting a neutral front may seem appealing but it’s only useful for maintaining the status quo,” she asserted as she looked Julius in the eye. “Not for a silent revolution.”

He gaped at her. Master Raymond made it sound as if her unsolicited advice was useless. He actually planned to stay neutral as she predicted but like she said, it wouldn’t get things done. How was she experienced in such things?

“I-I’ll try,” he finally got out. “Were you a ruler in your past life or something?” He asked jokingly. Aika laughed as she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back against the counter with a smirk as she asked,

“Julius, who do you think I am?”

He was slightly thrown off by the question.

“Uh, Aika Tolliver, Time Mage, Spymaster, and advisor to the 27th Wizard King?”

“Also the CEO of an international company,” she added.

Julius took a double take.

“What?!”

She palmed her face.

“So, Master Raymond didn’t tell you?”

“No?”

“God,” she groaned. “I’ll explain more later but I may not hold any political dominion but we are both C-Level executives and some of our tasks are quite similar even if our institutions are different. I am able to give you solid advice on such matters without being an actual ruler.” Aika fiddled with her pocket watch. “You should go.” She said as she guided him through the door and back into the living room. “It’s almost time for the banquet!”

He stumbled as he processed her words. Julius quickly laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as he looked at her, dazed.

“Wait, so why do you insist on working for the Wizard King?”

Aika tamped down her irritation. There was no reason to get upset. He hasn’t fully transitioned into his duties and information he should be aware of about his staff.

She took a calming breath.

“Because, there are multiple prophecies that state that this continent would spell the end of the world. Everyone around the world know something is going to happen on this continent,” she said coolly. “No one outside are acquainted with the inner workings nor do they like this region. There are contingencies to contain the ‘end of the world’ but no efforts to actually stop it. Me being me, decided to volunteer to be the hero and you ,” she pointed a finger at Julius “are going to help whether you like it or not, understood?”

He blinked as a smile crawled up his face which quickly grew into a grin. That sounded quite exciting! Maybe his tenure as Wizard King may not be entirely boring with a mission like that!

“Y-Yes ma’am!” He let out a chuckle. “I hope you realize I’m only going to pester you with more questions when I see you next time.”

Maybe I do want you to come back and pester me, A voice in her head piped up intrusively.

“Yes, I’m aware,” she said rolling her eyes. “Now go!”

Julius saluted her with a mischievous grin and vanished.

Aika stood staring at the empty space where he was before pressing her head against the wall next to her with a deep sigh.

Why did he have to be at the Swallowtail right when I needed to? Why the fuck did I touch his face? And did he have to be obvious with his advances so much? What did he mean “just be himself?” She clenched her fist. The only way she could avoid overthinking was to throw herself into work.

She composed herself and held her head high. There was no time to dwell on such things. She examined her living room as she brought her to-do list to the front of her mind. She had a lot of things to clean, organize and pack.

Aika rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back.

Time to get to work.

Notes: aiaiai that was a handful Julius figures out why Aika is avoiding him next chapter and you guys get one letter to figure out what he is LMAOOOOOO

#julius novachrono #oc: Aika Tolliver #marx francois #julius novachrono x oc #julius novachrono x reader #black clover #black clover fanfiction #demons run fic stuff #chapter 8

28 notes · View notes

huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

Goretober D12: No Way Home - Ateez

Ateez + Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Serial killer themes, stalker themes, murder, death, suicide, poison, explosion, heights, falling, beating, fights, guns, mauling, gore, blood, drowning, mentions of police and police reports, threats, mention of poison gas, hospitals, mentions of drugging.

Word Count: 5,221

Sitting in the hospital bed all you could do was stare at the copy of the police report they had left with you. Saying they’d return for it it tomorrow, but if you remembered anything to add it to the paper or to tell them. The problem wasn’t remembering, despite your head trauma, the problem was that you couldn’t forget. Looking down at the paper in your hands again, as best you could with one swollen eye anyways you felt sick once again as flashes from the evening filled your mind, and still the people who had found amusement in your torment were no where to be found.

You wanted to run. Hide. Wake up from this nightmare. Anything at all to make it disappear. You had no idea how to live with the events of that evening......

October 11th - 9:17 pm

“Dude that is the sketchiest haunted house invitation I have ever seen.....and that saying a lot, considering it’s literally for a haunted house.” Seonghwa teases Jongho over his little suggestion of activity for the night as your group started to walk up to the abandoned looking building, it looking a rickety four stories high.

“There’s still three weeks to Halloween bud, we don’t have to do all the scary stuff right away.” You tease the youngest even more lightly pinching his cheek with a small laugh.

Jongho pouts with a small whine, “Hey! It just seemed like something fun that everyone can do together. You all said you wanted to get out of the house more! If that meant you guys wanted to go clubbing you should have said so!”

“It’s fine, we’re just messing with you.” Seonghwa assures ruffling his hair, everyone still laughing as we enter. You and Yeosang jumping as a secondary door drops behind the last of you looking almost like the iron gate of a castle. Putting your hand over your heart you let out a breathless laugh at being so easily spooked.

“If you’re gonna be that scared Tiny you can stick with me, I’m a certified human shield.” Yunho slips his arm around your shoulders, he’s chuckling deep in his chest, but a soft concerned look is on his face.

“I think I’ll be fine. I just don’t expect things sometimes.” You assure him, yet move to take his hand in yours anyways to calm some of his concerns. You may not have been the youngest, but to the boys you were their Tiny. The one they had to protect.

Looking around one the immediate area of what appeared to be an office hallway was lit up, trying the doors you could see they were all locked. With furrowed brows you and the boys looked around before moving to step into the darkness not knowing where else to go. Only lights flicked on down the path to illuminate the hallway, straight to an elevator who’s doors opened.

“Going up?” I voice echoed through the building sound system, the voice holding a twang to it. The sound nothing southern in nature, but instead almost shrill as if holding back a laugh of some sort. Seeing nowhere else to go and assuming this was just part of the aesthetic of the house you all trudged cautiously to the elevator, squeezing in together. Once the elevator stops you all get off into the room it opens to you before swiftly shutting and dropping down to where it could offer you no way out. The room lighting up to reveal 12 dishes of different fruits.

You look at Jongho with furrowed brows before you make any move to go examine the food, “Jongho....out of curiosity...what exactly was the theme of this haunted house?”

Jongho pulls out the flyer and offers it to you, “I don’t know Spectacle de something or other...” He shrugs.

Looking over the flyer your eyes widen, “Jongho. It says Spectacle de Mort....that means Show of Death.”

“Show of Death is right! Cause now we’re live, and we’re in for quite the treat with nine of you here. This should give us entertainment for quite some time. You see this is no ordinary haunted house. This place was designed to haunt you, while amusing us and a whole live stream of viewers. Not with little frights though, that amusement passes too easy... No, here you’ll be risking your lives. Simple as that. You all work to complete the activity assigned until your numbers have decreased by at least one person before the next door is unlocked. That is the only way to get out of here.....oh and one more thing. If you don’t do the activity it’ll be much less entertaining for us, but we can kill all of you by flooding any room with a poisonous gas...though it would still me mildly entertaining considering it’s an hallucinogen too.”

Your heart sinks at the voice’s instructions, watching as Jongho pales shoulder’s slumping.

“I never should have brought us here. It really was a bad idea and a sketchy haunted house flyer and I’m so stupid...” He mumbles before you pull him into your arms, trying to shush him softly, cooing into his ear.

“Shh, shh, Jongho you had no way of knowing. Besides we won’t even know if it’s a hoax or not until until we do something, so let’s just worry about that for now. Okay?” You rub his back gently guiding the way further into the room. Picking up the cue card of instructions to read it.

“One out of the twelve is poisoned. Chose wisely and take a bite, for one is the forbidden fruit.”

You and the boys looked around debating your options. Though if this was legitimate, then at least you each had even odds and no one would have to bear the guilt if something went wrong. Each of you carefully trying to pick a fruit and hoping this was some sick joke instead of reality. Hongjoong picking strawberries, Seonghwa oranges, Yunho kiwis, Yeosang apples, San pineapple, Mingi blueberries, Wooyoung pears, Jongho mangoes, and you picked grapes. Everyone second guessing the whole time until one by one you took a bite and could only wait and hope. A long moment passes and nothing seems to happen as you drift closer to the end where Jongho and Seonghwa stand by the fruits they picked and closer to the door until Jongho starts coughing. It’s only a little at first as his hand comes up to rub at his throat it feeling funny along with his skin heating up. You look at him, eyes widening in shock as you see how pale he starts to look before the coughing suddenly gets harsher to the point of him coughing up blood. Nearly collapsing to the ground before you and Seonghwa catch him and help him sit. You gently rub and pat his back while holding him up and against your chest.

“E-Easy Jongho, just try to breath okay? We got you.” You try to assure him, but when you look up from your spot besides him to make eye contact with San your eyes are glistening with tears. The boys desperately scrambling to find any exit or to get someone’s phone to work to call for help realizing this is in fact legitimate and none of you were safe here, especially Jongho who possibly only had a few moments left. Jongho soon getting weaker as he only weakly sputters out blood and whimpers softly, relying on you to sit up even, before entirely going limp in your arms. Sobs finally breaking loose as you cup his cheek, gently wiping some of the blood off his face.

“C-Come on Jongho you gotta stay awake, we’ll find a way to get you help. J-Just please wake up.” You beg him, even as the door finally clicks open to the next room you don’t want to leave him alone. It’s only when Seonghwa gently takes him from your arms and lays him down that you let the boys take you to the next room hoping to find an exit there.

The next room seeming much more like a lab with all sorts of chemicals and test tubes, the whole area would have just reminded you of Chemistry class and how badly you sucked at that if it hadn’t been for what you just went through. Yunho holding you close and rubbing your back gently, absorbing your cries into his chest as he sniffles a little as well. Hongjoong finding the little card with instructions this time.

“One by one add the chemicals to the one in the center of the room. One of you might be lucky enough to get an explosive reaction.”

“Let Y/N go first.” Hongjoong stops Yeosang from going to grab one and get it over with and the boys all stop to look at him confused, “The chances of picking a safe chemical go down with each one. So Y/N first and then youngest to oldest. Except I’ll go last instead of Hwa.”

“I-I don’t wanna do it that way. That’s not fair to the rest of you.” You whimper out before Hongjoong pulls you into another hug, gently wiping away your tears.

“It’s alright Y/N. Whatever happens is what happens, it’s not your fault. Now go pick one please and just get it over with.” Hongjoong assures gently before letting go of you, to gently nudge you towards the test tubes. You were kind of hoping that in staring at them something would give away which one would be deadly and just suffer the consequences so that the others wouldn’t have to, but you weren’t so lucky. Finally you chose one and poured it in, waiting and watching for a few moments and yet nothing had happened. It went on for a while until it was just Seonghwa and Hongjoong were left, for the first round anyways. There were more test tubes than there were you all.

“Joong you should go next, really. I’ll take my chances.” Seonghwa insisted, but Hongjoong wasn’t having it as he nudged Seonghwa over gently like he had you earlier. Seonghwa finally giving in as he goes to pick a test tube and pour it in. Waiting a moment nothing seems to happen, until he turns his back to it and it starts to sizzle. Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he quickly turns back towards it trying to cover the explosion with his body to protect the rest of you from it. San realizing what was going on and pulling you close to shield you behind him too little shards of glass that made it through piercing his back as he keeps you safe. Him glancing over his shoulder to see what damage had been done as the next door clicks open, but not letting you around him to see as he firmly holds you and leads the way through to the next room. The speaker system cackling again, signaling the people who you wanted to curse out are ready to try and communicate with you again in a form other than paper and death.

“Wow! Only two deaths and you already have over 500,000 live viewers. Your quite the popular little group of individuals, aren’t you? Keep it up and we might just let one of you actually survive.”

The words weren’t what will haunt you though, it was the mocking laughter that rung out afterwards. Echoing through the room, before the sound system cut it off again. You shake your head, eyes burning from tears unable to shed anymore in this moment and you were only two rooms in out of however many they wished to torment you with. Yeosang taking a turn to comfort you while Yunho looked at San’s back trying to help him out. Mingi going to look at the next paper.

“Some locked doors can be opened. Each person pick a door and step through to see what’s waiting on the other side. No cheating.”

Yeosang lets you hug him tightly as you both kind of waddle your way over to where the keys are with the other boys, “Go ahead and pick Y/N. Pick carefully.”

“You too.” You tell Yeosang softly, despite knowing that one person less would be leaving this room than entering no matter how well you all picked your keys. Yeosang kisses your forehead softly, squeezing your hand in comfort with a small smile before picking his while you chose yours. One by one you unlocked your doors all finding a pitch black entranceway. Even the ground was blacked out not providing any sign of what was to come. Until you all stepped through and you heard Yeosang’s scream. Turning towards where he’d been you see him fall in, running over to try and catch him and nearly sliding into the hole yourself if it hadn’t been for Wooyoung catching your leg.

“Y/N you can’t just throw yourself head first into a hole like that!” Wooyoung scolds pulling you back and into a hug with his kneeling form, softening as he sees fresh tears on your face, feeling some falling from his own.

“I-I just....I-I thought I could save him.” Your sobs have you shaking against Wooyoung’s chest as he rocks you gently, scooping you up to carry you into the next room.

“I know, but we just have to try to make sure as many of us stay alive until help can get here. Over 500,000 people are viewing this live, I’m sure someone has called help by this point and they’ll try to help us. Who knows maybe they can save one of the boys.” Wooyoung tries to console you even if he knows himself that it’s false hope. It served some good in calming you though, you being more hopefully about these things than he naturally was and therefore accepting it for the time being. Wearing through the fresh round of tears and your eyes dried once more, out of them for the time being and wiping your face to take on the next challenge with the boys. Looking around though you found no paper, hoping perhaps you’d been through enough torment to satisfy them. You knew it was too good to be true as the voice came over the speakers again though.

“So while you’ve been busy entertaining our guests we’ve done some digging on you all......and I must say jealousy is a really nasty look. Especially on you Hongjoong. Not to mention the regretful things it can make you do.” The voice sighs before tsking softly, “Poor poor San....he’s got to let you down like this doesn’t he?”

San looks towards the speaker system in confusion, “What do you mean? He’s jealous of me?”

“Oh he most certainly is and because of that he’s going to have to get rid of you.” The voice chuckles darkly, Hongjoong and San both paling as your eyes widen.

“W-What do you mean? I-I’ll do no such thing.” Hongjoong insists practically screaming at the speaker.

“You will though, unless you want everyone in the room to die.” The voice is serious in it’s threat causing panic to settle in among you all.

“J-Just do it Joong. It’s not worth everyone dying over. It’s simple math...one life or six.” San urges softly despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, willing to do this for everyone else’s sake.

Hongjoong gently hugs the other man before looking around the room, “L-Let me see if there is anything to make it go quicker....b-be a little less painful for you.”

The voice laughs again, “You won’t find anything....you’ll have to do it with your own hands Hongjoong. Hope you still have some of those dark feelings for him, it might just make it go faster.”

Hongjoong feels as if he’s going to be sick, his dam breaking now as streams of tears stain his face, looking at Wooyoung and you for a moment, “Cover Y/N’s eyes.”

His voice is so quiet like it’s barely there, but Wooyoung hears the words anyways nodding softly and turning away from it himself as he shield your face from the sight against him instead. That doesn’t block the sounds though, the cracks of bones and cries of pain. The sobs coming from all the men around you, but not as pained as the heart wrenching ones coming from Hongjoong while he acts. It dying away, but not soon enough as Yunho moves to cover your ears trying to protect you from that as well. Once it’s over you feel Wooyoung’s hold on you loosen giving you freedom to move. Slowly you walk past them to where San’s battered body lay, unmoving and taking the last pained and shuttering breaths as Hongjoong refused to even look at what he did, instead throwing up in the corner. You gently take San’s hand wanting to stay with him, even as the next door opened.

“Y/N.....we have to go if we can’t get out in time to get him help then he really won’t make it.” Mingi softly places his hand on your shoulder. You nod, but lean down to kiss San’s temple first.

“You’re so brave to do this San, but now you gotta stay strong for us. We’re going to get out and get help as soon as we can for you.” You whisper a promise to him before finally letting go of his hand, gently laying it down to go through the door with the others. Your shoulders slump at the sight of a gun, already knowing whatever the plan for the room was would likely not be pleasant if there was such an obviously placed gun. Yunho getting the little paper and reading it with a sigh before crumpling it up and throwing it as if that’s resolve anything.

“They want us to play fucking Russian roulette. Like normal people would hope to do this for the sake of entertaining others!” Yunho shakes his head as he feels like he’s about to crack again. All of you more than spent at this point with still no exit in clear sight. Not without the risk of at least four more people still dying.

Wooyoung slipped an arm around you, pulling you close. Worrying about you as usual as Yunho stepped back over to the group, trying to discuss what order you should go in and so on. You didn’t pay that much attention to the conversation though, you didn’t really care what order you went in. Someone else would be dying in a few moments and you felt helpless to it. Part of you almost said fuck it and ripped about of Wooyoung’s arms to go take this one yourself just for the sake of the remaining boys, almost. You knew you probably wouldn’t get far though before they stopped you from what you planned to do. Like you’d rather watch them all die in front of you than save one of them. You were drawn out of your thoughts though when you heard a clicking sound, eyebrows drawing together as you tried your best to wiggle in Wooyoung’s hold and get a look around to see what it was. Another of the same sound following only a moment later.

“Guys, what’s that clicking sound?” You question, but are quickly dismissed by the others who are busy debating why their order is the best option. A debate no one had a right answer considering they were all trying to give themselves the worst chance of survival.

“Not now Y/N, we’ll deal with that in a minute.” Mingi manages to spare you a glance and it’s only then when you realize who’s voice you hadn’t heard through the whole debate.

“W-Wait guys........w-where’s Hongjoong?” You question eyes widening at a third click sound, stomach dropping as you put two and two together. The others finally breaking from the circle to look into the room. Noticing Hongjoong with the gun to his head right as the bang of a gunshot went off. Not realizing you jumped or screamed at the sight before you, not entirely sure the others registered your reaction either. One that was to be expected when you just saw a friend shoot themselves, blood splattering over the walls. Something you’d see in a museum as a sick form of modern art no doubt, if this had been fake. A reality you would much rather wish for. Four doors clicking open this time as the cackling of the speaker comes on again.

“Hm....I guess the guilt was just too much for Hongjoong. It’s a real shame.” The voice mocks the pain the rest of you are going through, “I’ll give you all a moment to say goodbye to him and to each other now, because you’ll each have to pick a separate door and make your way through a maze. Of course the door at the end will only remain open for three of you. The last person will be left with something....not so friendly.”

Getting to the row of doors you stop the boys before they can start to argue again, “No! No more sacrificing yourselves! Then the rest of us are left to carry that guilt! We all have to agree before we walk through those doors that we’ll all try to make it! Whoever doesn’t.....it was at least fair and we know that. Besides there is a chance they can hide in the maze or something until help gets here.”

Silently the boys nod in a solemn agreement, knowing you had a point and all feeling the burdens of guilt themselves. A tight group hug being held for a moment, knowing it was possibly the last time one of you would be in it, before breaking apart and each walking through one of the doors. After a couple of turns through the weaving maze you stumbled across a glass wall, Yunho appearing after only a moment on the other side. Your smile at the sight of him dropped when you realized you couldn’t make out the words he was trying to speak through the glass. The sounds too muffled through the material, with a sigh he gives up after a moment simply putting a hand on the glass. You doing the same from the other side and giving each other a small smile through tear filled eyes. Until your adrenalin spiked again as a roar sounded through the maze. Looking at Yunho again you managed to make out one word before he turned to leave the glass wall, run. So that’s exactly what you did. You ran through the maze, barely calculating which direction would be a wiser choice as your flight instinct kicked in knowing there was a wild animal somewhere in here with you. Seeing the door out in sight you bolt through it, chest heaving when you reach the other side, looking up to see who called your name to see Wooyoung and Mingi already inside.

“Yunho!” You yell turning back towards the door as you hear a pained scream before the door suddenly slams shut behind you. You bang your first against it with a curse, before Mingi pulls you away from the door, realizing that the room was moving. Going down in fact. Back to the level you first entered on maybe? No, you’d gone too far down for that now. You were in the basement when the doors opened again. The three of you slipping into the room. Wooyoung finding the little paper this time.

“The way out will be revealed, but at a cost to you. The door will only be opened if one remains behind as a sacrifice.”

The three of you look around trying to figure what it meant you wanted to do. Though soon you got a clue as part of the ceiling opened up, starting to flood the room with water. Gasping as icy wet soaks your shoes and works it way up your pants, making you feel much heavier. Eventually determine where the door is, a ladder in the far corner leading up to where an opening above could be.

“What do we do to get it open then?” Mingi asks climbing up and pushing against it a little, “What kind of sacrifice do they want?”

You all knew what kind, but you had no idea what they expected you to do, until a red flash came from the opposite corner of the room on the floor. Wooyoung looks at you two with furrowed brows, wondering what it could be. Mingi convincing you to step up a few rungs of the ladder as the water had already managed to get up to the waist at this point.

“I’ll go check it out and let you all know.” Wooyoung decides before trudging through the rapidly rising water to get there. He has to dive below the surface to see what it is, only to spot a button. He presses it and holds for a moment, not realizing that where you were the door opened until he let go to surface for air.

“What did you do Woo? The door opened and then it closed again.”Mingi inquires looking at the boy who’s shaking out his hair and treading water on the other side of the room.

“I pressed a button for a bit. It must be when unlocks the door.” Wooyoung sees you and Mingi both go to offer and he quickly cuts you off, “Don’t even bother there isn’t time and I can hold my breath longest, I’m the one who’ll be able to hold it long enough for you both. Now get ready.”

You and Mingi both deflate slightly, but listen working up the ladder to wait for the door to open once again. Wooyoung waiting until you were both set to dive again, intending to hold the button for as long as possible, to be sure that both of you had made it. Not that it mattered much, the door immediately closing despite his hold on the button as soon and you and Mingi were through. With a soft sigh you picked up the last paper, like you had the first one.

“The way things will end will come down to fate. Each choice you make could be your last or it could be the one that finally sets you free. The final door will open when every choice has been made, when only one is left standing.”

Lights were over what looked to be two bins with pull tabs, whatever being inside a mystery. You and Mingi exchanged a look sighing softly before making your choices and each grabbing a lever, not really sure what to expect or why you bothered to even play this game anymore. Even if you made it out alive, for what? Even if help arrived in time for some of them, it would simply be too late for others.

“We pull on three? And no matter what happens we agree to live our lives if we make it out?” Mingi questions, forcing a small smile like it would provide much reassurance at this point.

You give a small nod and return one of your own, “On three.”

1...

2......

Pulling the levers neither of you made it out unscathed, a rolling pin dropping to smack Mingi in the head while a hand held mirror dropped onto you. Your arm coming up to block most of it from your head and face, cutting the skin on your arm while the back of Mingi’s head bled a little. Yet, you both knew it wasn’t enough for whoever was watching as the next two bins lit up. So on you went the next bins weren’t as dangerous of items, the problem us that you looked up wondering what yours was the food can the dropped out hitting you in the face immediately leaving a mark that would only get worse with time, eye swelling slightly. Meanwhile Mingi had a wine glass drop onto him, shattering and raining glass down over him, not helping either of your conditions, but not enough to kill yet. The third row of bins lighting up you both stumbled a little, battered from what you’d already been through, but making it to the next one and pulling the levers once again. Mingi’s loud cry broke out before you could see what happened to him, a rather heavy clock having dropped out and knocking him to the ground. You opening yours and quickly trying to shield your head from the mental pipe that dropped out, it was heavy and beat you a bit as it dropped, but not enough to knock you down. Carefully you go over and help Mingi up and to the next one when he insisted he keep going along with you, pulling again through the tears and swelling of your eye you didn’t see what dropped onto Mingi, only hearing the way the impact knocked the wind out of him in a pained manner while you simply had a grouping of ceramic plates fall onto you. The click of a door opening was enough to let you know how things turned out, trudging your way through shattered remains of the plate with little care and knowing you couldn’t bare to see what Mingi looked like now you made you way through the door. Entrance now in sight, in big flashing red above it the number of viewers your group had gotten the sick bastards who did this to you...... 23, 897,674...

_______________

Looking down at the police report again you shake your head, carefully reaching up to wipe your tears.

Police Report - Event reported 10-12-2020 - Time: 2:47 am

Choi Jongho - Cause of death: Poisoning. Victim stated through ingestion of mangos. Substance: Unknown

Park Seonghwa - Cause of death: Killed by an exploding test tube.

Kang Yeosang - Cause of death: Fell into a empty elevator shaft and onto old support beams. Body not located.

Choi San - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten by another man according to victim statement. Body not located.

Kim Hongjoong - Cause of death: Suicide, gunshot wound.

Jeong Yunho - Cause of death: Mauled by a wild animal, suspected missing lion. Body not located.

Jung Wooyoung - Cause of death: Drowning. Body not located.

Song Mingi - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten with objects; rolling pin, wine glass, clock, potentially more we have yet to find.

Y/L/N Y/N - Victim: Traumatized, suffering from major injury, taken to hospital where report was filed.

Assailant: Unknown. Multiple accomplices also in the wind.

You’re about ready to crumple up the paper and toss it aside, but as the doctor comes in again you settle for just setting it onto the wheelie tray they had for food and move it aside.

“Hello Y/N, we’d like to ask you something. Looking over some of your test results we were a little confused by it and wanted to see if you knew anything about it.” The doctor speaks softly and although you were long tired of questions, you nod anyways. Knowing that he was only trying to help and that you’d made Mingi a promise at the end.

“Do you happen to know why there was a hallucinogen in your system?”

#goretober #ateez oneshot #ateez #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa #yeosang oneshot #yeosang #jongho oneshot #jongho #san oneshot #san #yunho oneshot #yunho #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung #mingi oneshot #mingi

70 notes · View notes

palbabor-writes · 4 years

Text

Yōkai

Hawks Week 2020 - Prompt: Horror Tales

Warnings: Ghosts, spirits, blood, gore, adult language, death, mentions of violent crime

Word Count: 9403

The people here are strange. They’re a superstitious bunch for sure. Everything has an underlying reason. Don’t forget to toss salt over your shoulder when you walk into that crime scene, Hawks. It’s bad luck if you don’t.

Despite the strange mannerisms that surround him, they are right about one thing: there’s more to these killings than meets the eye.

Notes: I went with a whodunit theme for this fic with some healthy ghosts and haunts thrown in. As this is pre-All Might’s retirement, Hawks is the #3 Hero.

Yōkai

Yōkai are a class of supernatural monsters and spirits in Japanese folklore. The word 'yōkai' is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious."

The small island of Miyako is renowned for its turquoise waters, pristine coral sanctuaries, amusement parks, and sprawling mansions. All in all, it’s a trust fund tourist trap. Still, like most pristine and shiny things, there’s a seedier underbelly that’s scrapes against the rough, sandy bottom. Come at low tide and you’ll catch a whiff of decay and rot.

Miyako Island is another example of that duality that exists within everything. No matter how pretty the water, there are always dark creatures that lurk in the shallow shoals and coves.

Hawks isn’t looking forward to his new assignment on the island. He’s been called in by the HPSC and Miyako’s police force. There’s been a string of unsolved murders and, with the onset of August, tourist season is in full swing. Homicide is bad publicity during the best of times. But, combine the discovery of freshly charred corpses popping up in various buildings, piers, and alleyways, with mass hysteria and you’re going to have a big problem on your hands.

For eight open murder cases, there’s not much for Hawks to go on, and the data he does have is spotty.

Hawks poured over the notes as soon as he got off the phone with the HSPC, the luster of the new assignment fresh in his mind. He swiped through the briefings and crime scene photos that were attached in the long email from Miyako’s chief of police.

It looks like the trouble started in the poorer areas of town. No matter how bright the city lights shine, there’s always the common shadow of a downtrodden, overworked, and underpaid populous straining under the weight of “keeping up appearances.”

Who else would do the nitty gritty jobs that ensured that the tourist season stayed afloat, and, most important of all, profitable?

Sadly, it’s the blue collar areas that first experienced the horrors. The notes on these cases are borderline elitist, skirting close to xenophobic. The usual: ‘it was just something that happened when you crammed people in that close’. ‘What else did you expect’? ‘Most of the victims aren’t even from the island’. ‘They’re strangers, they’re not locals.’ ‘They’re not one of us’.

The word immigrant pops up in the documentation frequently and it feels like a slur each time it appears. There’s a slinking, cloying animosity curling behind the looping words.

It pisses Hawks off.

The only reason he’s been called is because the crimes have jumped over the poverty line. Now, two prominent members of Miyako society have been murdered. So, what’s the connection you ask?

It’s the state of the bodies.

All of the victims, rich or poor, have been mutilated. Something sharp was drawn across their skin, cutting and splicing, marring them, marking them. Then, as if to add insult to injury, they’d been set aflame. It must have been a scorching blaze. Something that leaves them so crisped and blackened that they’re more husk than human. In each case, it’s taken dental records to identify the deceased.

The Miyako chief of police is doing a review of the known peculiars with Hawks.

“They mirror the, uh, earlier crime scenes. As you can see, this one, she is, er, was a woman in her late 30’s-”

“She was 37,” Hawks supplies, his golden eyes running over the chart that the chief of police is showing him. He’s trying his best to hide his agitation, but his feathers still bristle, the red plumage flaring, refusing to lay against his back.

“Uh, yeah, a bad age they say.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, it’s supposed to be bad luck. You know?”

“I don’t. Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?”

Hawks has to grit his teeth to keep his tone even. He’s really not liking the way these crime scenes are processed and he’s made his opinion known to the police chief and investigative team. Why now, he’d pressed, hours after flying in, sweat still clinging to his brow. Why didn’t the bodies matter when it was relegated to the lower socio-economic citizens?

He’s also critical and skeptical of the motives of this police chief. There’s something about the whole thing that feels...off.

But, now’s not the time to project that suspicion. He’s only just arrived, besides, he needs more information, more data. Despite his agitation, he gets why the HPSC sent him on this assignment. He’s known for doing things quickly. Plus, he’s usually calm, collected, and he’s got the clout to get things moving again.

He’s also observant. The HPSC both loves and hates this particular skill of his, but it’s to their benefit in this instance. His sharp eyes might spot something that’s been missed, they’d said on the phone with him as they handed off his assignment. If he played his cards right, they said, he could pull these murders from unsolved to solved. Oh, and the commission is thinking these murders might involve some agents from the League of Villains.

It’s not a confirmed connection.

There’s nothing solid about it, besides the body mutilation and burned corpses. But both are known habits of two members of the League. They’re shadowy leads, more steeped in hearsay than fact. All the same, one is rumored to have a fascination with blood, and the other, has a proclivity for using a bright, blue flame. It’s a hot heat, perfect for cremation and these bodies have all been practically, well, cremated.

“Have you met the other heroes that will be assigned to work with you?”

Hawks snaps out of his head and nods at the tall, balding police chief. “Amano and Matsuura? Yeah, we’re supposed to take a look at the first locations as soon as this...meeting...is concluded.” Hawks hopes the police chief can hear the air quotes he just put the word meeting in.

“Good, good. I saw your additions on the later cases. I really feel that we should look a little harder into those. One was a member of the city council. He was beloved by the city and-”

“If I’m looking for a pattern, there’s a higher probability that the killer was sloppier in the earlier cases. New habits and all. I’ll get to the councilman when I get to the councilman. Again, this string of murders started in the lowlands. While I realize that doesn’t get you the most publicity, and I hear a re-election is coming up for your position as chief of police this fall, I’m not going to pick at certain elements of this and leave others by the wayside.

You gotta’ problem with that, take it up the HPSC. But, listen, they’re a lot meaner than me and they’re not going to like that you’re obstructing my investigation. You asked the commission to send someone down, and, lucky you, you’ve gotten yourself stuck with me.”

Hawks flashes the police chief a bright grin, his teeth gleaming as his eyes crinkle to crescents. The man stammers for a moment, his face flushing under Hawks’ false joviality, then he tosses a bulky manilla folder on the desk.

“Why you...I heard you were an arrogant son of a...no, no.” The chief sputters, his teeth clenched, anger bared behind the grinding of his jaw. “You’re right, we’re so very grateful to the number three hero taking time out of his busy modeling schedule to lend us a hand with these murders.”

“Ooh, you saw that spread in the sports magazine? Nice use of color right? Loved that new set of watches I’m sponsoring.”

Fucking prick. Hawks is used to this kind of irate reaction, hell, it’s pretty expected now. He’d heard it so many times he has it memorized. Yeah, yeah, he’s twenty one, a kid who’s too big for his boots. He has no idea, no real world experience. Did you hear how he talked to me? The audacity.

Let this guy try to report his snarky attitude, it’s not going to get his low level wannabe bureaucratic ass anywhere.

“I’ll get my agency to send you a signed copy. I had no idea you were such a fan! Lemme grab these files, got some work to do. Catch you around, sir!” Hawks pantomimes a salute, a serious expression making his eyes narrow. Fuck this dude. He’s got bigger fish to fry.

Closing the door on the police chief’s mottled expression, he meanders down the stairs of the police precinct, his wings still arching and rustling his temper. You’d think this case didn’t matter to these buffoons. The sheer implication of Hawks’ presence should clue them in. The HPSC doesn’t do anything lightly. Nah, these killings could be related to the League. Plus, his background checks on the victims had revealed some startling discoveries.

All of them, down to the nineteen year old restaurant hostess, were involved in minor villain activities. Some had smuggled drugs, some laundered money on the side, one was a known broker. They kept climbing the ladder of severity. It was worrisome.

While the chances of the LOV’s involvement was low, the commission was still searching for their hideout. He’d caught wind of some of the activity revolving around that ongoing mission. He wasn’t assigned to it, but he liked to keep an ear to the ground.

Association with the LOV or not, these homicides kept bothering him. There’s something he’s not seeing. He dislikes the sensation. It makes him tense, ill at ease. Once he steps outside the police headquarters he launches himself into the sleet grey skies.

It looks like rain.

If he’s wanting to glean as much as he can from those early crime scenes, he better hurry. Hawks doesn’t like rain. It makes his feathers feel bogged down and dampened. Unfortunately, it has the same effect on evidence. Rain can whisk the little details away, slicking and drifting as it washes down to the vast sea. It can easily snag vital clues on its meandering path, erasing as it goes.

******

The first murder took place on the fourth floor of a shabby apartment. The victim lived in the 19th unit and was a 43 year old male. He was a well known loner. So, it was a shock to discover that he ran a pilfering ring. The ring wasn’t a small scale enterprise either. No, this went deep. It connected to three other islands and the Japanese mainland. There’s no way this guy was a simple recluse. If anything, he was nothing short of a criminal mastermind.

His body had been left in an odd position. It was likely staged, purposeful.

He was discovered by his landlord. Rent was due and it was unusual for him to be late with the payment. So, the landlord let himself into the 19th unit. It’s a small wonder no one reported the smell earlier. Apparently, it was putrid, acidic, gut churning. A mix of tarnished copper and old, rotten meat.

In all likelihood, he was murdered elsewhere and dragged back to the unit. Nothing in the room, besides his corpse, was scorched. The victim was splayed on his small bed, but the placement was strange. His feet were resting on his ashen pillow, shoes still on his feet. Meanwhile, his head was at the foot of his bed, pointing northward.

Hawks and one of the assigned heroes, a friendly guy named Amano, are going over the case file with two members of the forensic team. Apparently, one of the team members hadn’t been part of the original investigation clean up and bagging. As Hawks and Amano are sharing the crime scene photos, asking the forensic team questions, the taller of the two, gasps, clapping a hand over his lips.

Hawks tilts his head at the man’s reaction, his feathers automatically feeling for his pulse. It’s elevated and the guy appears to be truly bothered. It’s an upsetting picture, to be sure, but this is his job. He cleans up blood and guts for a living. Surely, he’s seen worse.

“You ok?” Hawks’ asks, his amber eyes shifting over the man’s face.

“F-fine. It’s just, well, look at him.”

Hawks takes the photo back. Did he miss something?

“What about him?”

“Look at the direction his head’s facing.”

“Uh,” Hawks examines the position of the hazy sun that peeks through the rain clouds outside the window. “North?”

Now the other forensic team member gasps. What the hell? What does facing north have to do with anything? It’s a cardinal direction. What would they say if he was facing the West? Again, are these people deliberately trying to bog his investigation down?

“I don’t see what, uh, relevance that has.” Hawks tells the two, looking over to Amano. The hero doesn’t seem to be bothered by their outburst. He just shrugs at Hawks’ frank stare.

“It’s supposed to be bad luck, but yeah, there’s not-” Amano begins, finally placing some clarity on the forensic team's outburst of paranoia, but he’s interrupted by the taller, jumpier man.

“Not just that. You collect iron in your blood if you sleep facing north. It brings death.”

The guy said death like it might summon the fearsome spector down on them at any moment. Amano coughs, his hand covering a badly concealed smile. “Yeah, sure. Facing north is bad luck, and, I guess it can bring death, too. Learn something new everyday...”

“Worked pretty well in this guys case,” Hawks muses, arching an eyebrow at the jittery forensic team. “You guys see anything else? Something a little more, I don’t know, pertinent?”

They don’t get much further with that crime scene.

Amano tags along for Hawks’ review of the other two cases. His agency runs out of this area and he was one of the first responders. He’s not got a lot of extra information, but he knows the people and they know him. It takes the edge off, lets the locals open up a little more.

The next case is in a home. Well, home feels generous, it’s more like a shack. Apparently, the victim liked to collect cat figurines. Like, really, really liked to collect cat figurines. There’s over sixty of them, they’re scattered around the place, tucked into nooks and crannies. It feels like a thousand little eyes are watching the two heroes as they canvas the space. It’s creepy. Hawks dislikes the sensation. His feathers keep lifting, feeling, spreading out.

The woman had been found at her kitchen table. She was propped into a chair, sitting, like nothing in the world, save her crisp remains, was amiss. The only way you could achieve a staging of that caliber was to wait for the body to enter rigor mortis.

That takes time.

Full rigor sets in around 5 to 12 hours after death has occured. Whomever did this must have had time to spare. And they weren’t worried about being caught during that time. No, they were too busy planning out the dramatic effect of their crimes.

Once again, he feels like he’s missing something.

One body was left pushing a garden cart. Literally, the man was found, early in the morning with his hands tied to a wheelbarrow. He was posed mid task, his arm lifted, reaching for someone, or something. Trouble was, the guy didn’t work as a gardener. No, he was a low level broker. Someone darting under the criminal radar. He’d eluded the police and heroes for months. Looks like his luck ran out.

The eighth body, the congressman, was discovered at a popular wharf. This crime scene is still in the process of being cleaned up, so there’s a flurry of people bustling around. Amano, and the other hero, Matsuura, who’s also been assigned to Hawks’ investigation, are talking with witnesses, gathering information and scheduling interviews. This kind of hero work is never ending. Hawks is grateful they’re willing to take on the grunt work.

As Hawks is kneeling, peering over the ledge of the pier, looking down on the blackened wood and debris, a loud cawing breaks out. It echoes on the wind, coiling and lifting. It’s a funny sound. Like it’s far away and dulled. It makes Hawks’ wings fan out, overstimulated and brittle. The heroes and crime scene investigators debate on the origin of the noise. It doesn’t help that there’s no bird that’s wheeling above them. No, the skies are dark and empty, with a light misting of rain starting to drip onto the lashing sea.

“What is that?”

“Is it a gull?”

“It’s creepy. There’s nothing even flying around. But, it sounds so close.”

“I think it’s a seabird. It’s gotta be, sometimes they fly out here looking for fish.”

“I’ve never heard a seagull sound like that.”

“There are other birds besides seagulls, idiot. It could be a pelican-”

“It’s a crow,” Hawks’ supplies, standing and turning back to the clutch of people who are quickly gathering up their supplies, doing their best to get the important pieces of evidence protected from the rain.

“Huh? Did he say a crow?”

“Oh, damn, that’s a sign of death.”

“No...I think it’s illness, not death.”

Hawks’ walks to Amano and Matsuura, he tells them he’ll meet them back at the police headquarters. He needs to start his interviews if he wants to even have a prayer of snagging a bite to eat. He’s been subsisting off coffee since he flew in and his stomach is rumbling, loudly.

The investigators are still debating the meaning of the crow caws when he takes off. His wings beat powerfully beside his head and he lifts above the grey storm clouds, coasting high, past the skyline.

Despite the strange mannerisms that surround him, they are right about one thing: there’s more to these killings than meets the eye.

Things feel off in every crime scene. Were their belongings really left that way? Or, have the details been staged? Plus, the murders keep escalating. The particulars are spreading out and deepening as they interweave. The major connecting thread is still the state of the bodies, but even that is starting to feel vague. Hawks shudders a bit of excess moisture from the tips of his wings. Fingers crossed, some of these witnesses and relatives of the victims will have a little more substance for him to chew on.

******

Oh, they have something alright.

It’s more hushed rumors and strange folk tales. God, the sheer frightened gullibility of these islanders is wild. The whole place feels so backwoodsey, lost in a bygone era. There’s always a prayer or blessing that needs to be uttered. Or, some supernatural logic that he needs to look into. Did you consider the devil, Hawks? He hides in the details, you know?

It’s fucking weird.

Hawks is treading in unfamiliar waters with this tripe. He didn’t grow up with any of this. The HPSC certainly hadn't offered him a course on Japanese islander folk traditions during his childhood. Still, these people, for the most part, seem well off, educated, cultured even. Some aren’t even from this island. But, they seem to be infected with the same disease: ghosts, oni spirits, and bad omens. It’s a whirling circle of nonsense and Hawks’ wants off this ride.

“I got a call from her.”

“From the victim, your sister?”

“Yeah, it came in at 4:49 am.”

“Ma’m, that’s not possible. The coroner noted that rigor mortis had set in by 2 am”

“She sounded faint. It was like she was underwater, but it was her. She screamed at me.”

“She screamed at you?”

“Yeah, it was this low scream. Kinda, like a gasp? Like she couldn’t breathe. It kept getting louder and louder and louder. It hurt my ears. They felt like they were ringing, pounding. Then, the line just went dead. I can still hear it, that scream. Every time I close my eyes, or whenever I least...I-I can still hear her.”

“Do you have your phone records?”

Hawks is trying to make sense of it all, but it’s like they’re talking to each other before they come into the interview room, telling each new interviewee to up the ante.

See if you can spook the number three hero. Go on, it’ll be fun.

There’s a slew of strange occurrences. Disembodied voices, knocking on windows, doors opening on their own, quiet voids of cold that they step into. Ghosts keep popping up.

Then, there’s the oni spirits. They have red faces and they lean in close, their fangs reaching, gnashing, grinding. One woman, who was married to one of the victims, burst into tears, her terrified sobbing turning into a frantic wail.

She had seen an ogre in her back garden. It was pushing a cart and the cart was on fire. Hawks’ checked his notes as he patted the woman’s back, trying to help her move through a few breathing exercises. One of the victims was found propped, pushing a wheelbarrow, could it be…

No. It’s another dead end.

This woman didn’t know that dead man, the one who was pushing the cart. She didn’t even live on the same side of town. Ugh, this is endless. It might be easier if he did apply these delusions to his investigation. At least that way he’ll feel sane.

Some of the victims had been acting suspicious, paranoid, on edge before their deaths. One of them had gotten a phone call in the middle of the night and ran off. The next day she was found dead in her home, burnt and drifting into ash.

“So, she got the call and just ran out the door?”

“Yes. But, she let it ring four times.”

“You said that already. I’m not sure-”

“She picked it up after the fourth ring.” The aunt of the victim is looking at Hawks expectantly, her blue eyes wide, starting.

“I don’t-”

“You know what that means...don’t you?”

“The hidden significance of picking up a phone on the fourth ring? No, no I don’t.”

They never fully expand on their weird theories. They’re normal comments to them. He debates looking up the meaning of the number four on his phone, but he tamps down the urge. It doesn’t pertain to the case. It’s useless drivel, a waste of time.

An adult man shows him this ugly, ugly drawing of a cat. It’s pulling a flaming cart. Hawks doesn’t even want to touch the paper. The man keeps pointing back at it as he goes over his neighbor’s timeline.

This particular witness is connected to the city councilman. The one that was oh, so important to the police chief. It’s a high profile case and it’s being taken seriously. Yet, here’s this supposedly credible witness, flashing a childish scrawl up to his nose, asking him to look for the phenomena, like it’s a normal request to ask the number three hero to look for nonexistent demons.

‘There’s gotta be more to this’, he tells Hawks, his voice broken, fervid. ‘Something, something has to be there, after all, the councilman was murdered for a reason’.

The man with the drawing is right about that, at least.

These are not random crimes. The MO is too similar. Every single victim was involved in some sort of villainous activity. Yeah, the guys correct on that one sane theory of his: ‘There’s gotta be something there’. But, whatever it is, it’s not this cat thing.

Hawks calls a halt to their interview and glumly munches on his cold chicken sandwich as he waits for the next witness to be called in. His head is pounding and he’s praying for some new development to fall into his lap, at least that way he can conclude things and get the hell off this island.

******

The 9th victim is an outlier.

He’s high up in social circles and he was a popular man. He’s also been accused of money laundering, tax evasion and fraud. He was acquitted on all charges, but his past never did stop nipping at his heels. However, that’s not what makes him an outlier.

No, that’s reserved for the state of his body.

Most of the victims have been burned to a crisp, leaving nothing behind, save bone and gristle. You can still see this guy's face and defining features. He’s a little charred, but it’s almost like the flames stopped right before they got past his chin.

They transport his body to the morgue and Hawks finishes the combing of the crime scene, setting up a new batch of interview times and creating witness reports. He leaves just as the sun is dipping under the horizon.

******

It’s late now, and the cool sea breeze blows in through his open hotel windows, soothing across his crimson plumage. It’s his first evening off in over a week. He’s still working though, typing his reports into his laptop.

He’s forgone his usual coffee this evening. He wants to try and see if he can catch a full eight hours tonight. God, what a fucking delicious treat that would be. Eight hours? That’s the real ghost here.

He shuts off his laptop and flops himself across his bed, his wings tucking into his side, burrowing his shoulders into their reassuring warmth.

He slips into the lull between realities, his mind whirring, the case resting heavily against the forefront of his thoughts. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he can’t distinguish between dream and actuality as he drifts off.

There’s something there.

It keeps to the edge of his vision, a dark shadow that leeches the color from whatever it touches. He can feel it watching him. It shifts quickly when he cocks his head to get a better look, sliding across the blank expanse like quicksilver, fluid and slick.

He looks away from the edges of his dreamscape and turns. He blinks in surprise. He’s at one of the crime scenes. It’s the one with the man in the wheelbarrow. There’s a crowd pressing around him and that dark figure is blotted toward the back, lurking, watching. The people around him murmur and whisper, too soft to hear. They don’t seem to notice him. They also don’t appear to have faces. They’re just blank voids, with soft notches where eyes, noses, and mouths should be. Unthinking, Hawks reaches for one of them and his hand slips through the air, weightless and heavy in the same motion.

When he blinks again he’s in that lady’s shack, the one with all the cat figurines. That wraith is sitting at her kitchen table. It’s not moving and he doesn’t feel particularly threatened by its proximity. Still, he dislikes this whole thing. If he can touch it, maybe he’ll wake up.

He’s stepping forward when he hears a soft mewl. There’s a black cat on a shelf. It’s tiny and lithe. It jumps in front of him, a low purr rumbling from its chest. It looks up at him, orange eyes fastening on his amber ones. Odd, he thinks, that woman only had figures. No living cats were evident in the house.

The cat chirps four times. It’s a light, high pitched sound that makes his ears ache. It almost sounds like a phone. The cat lifts its tail and turns, padding soundlessly into the next room. Intrigued, Hawks follows.

Now, he’s walking down a street. The cat is still in front of him, weaving in and out. That purr of it is loud and sharp as it vibrates around his ears. He keeps trying to get the feline’s attention. He pspsp’s at the dark cat, clicking his tongue, but it doesn’t respond. Hawks is distracted, not paying any mind to his surroundings, wholly focused on the feline.

The voice startles him.

It’s rasping and deep and it’s calling his name. Not his hero name, no, it’s saying his real name, over and over.

KEIGO TAKAMI.

Keigo Takami, he thinks, stumbling over words that make him, him. It sounds strange now, foreign. He hasn’t heard that name in such a long time. How did…

The voice is coming from behind him now. He whirls around and is face to face with that man. The 9th victim, the one whose face you could still see. He’s charred and battered, and blood is dripping in long rivulets from his gaping skin, pooling onto the ashen sidewalk.

His eyes are wide, searching but not seeing. The pupil and iris are both milky white, rolling around in the cavities of his sockets. Then, his mouth pops open. It’s horrifically wide, like it’s caught in a scream. His teeth are crumbling before Hawks’ eyes, black pearls that slide from the man’s lips and clatter around his feet.

Hawks is stunned, unsure, but, fuck, he can’t move. He tries to flap his wings, knowing that they’ll tug him away from this horror that’s in front of him. Except, there’s no whoosh of air, no lift. There’s nothing. What? How...

His hands bat at the emptiness along his back. Where are they? What is this? His fingertips press along his shoulders, searching, desperate. His quirk, it’s...it’s just gone. He’s frantic now and that makes him clumsy. His feet tangle under him and he falls. Grounded, his legs instinctively begin to push away from the shell of a man in front of him.

The figure moves with him. Hawks keeps scrabbling away, but the man is even closer now and his bare feet are disintegrating with each shuffling pad forward. Still, he keeps on. Hawks tries to move again, tries to shift, but he’s been cast in stone. He can’t look away...he can’t…

The man is almost upon him now. His fingers are crumbling, the ash they create is making him choke. He can’t breath, he’s wheezing, unable to pull oxygen through his trembling lips. Hawks’ lungs are burning...

Then, Hawks’ wakes up.

He’s sweating. His skin feels hot and his wings are flared. The feathers are quivering, searching. They bring him back bits and pieces. There’s someone sobbing two rooms over, someone is sleeping below him, their breath warm, he can almost feel it, pushing in and out, in and out. There’s a phone ringing. How many rings? What if it’s four...

Stop, stop.

Hawks tucks his wings back, ignoring the sounds, the sensations. The plumage wraps around him and he ducks his head into the darkness that they blanket him in. He’s comforted by the reassuring, solid presence of his quirk. He thought he’d lost it. His shoulders still hurt from his flailing motions. What is going on? He’s never had a dream like that. It felt so...so real.

No. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He doesn't believe in this stuff. It’s not real. There’s no such thing as ghosts.

He tries to lay back down.

He’s cooled off some, but his wings keep flapping, he’s stopped trying to fight them. His quirk is going into overdrive. This hasn’t happened to him in years, not since he was a kid. He tosses his pillow over his head, trying to stifle out the noise his quirk keeps drowning him in. He’s tired and overstimulated. Each breath stings and he tries to count, to walk through the steps that have been with him since childhood. Just be still, Hawks. It doesn’t matter.

The sun is peeking over the horizon when he finally dozes off, his head heavy, fogged with exhaustion.

******

Hawks grabs two nitro coffees the next morning.

He practically inhales the dark liquid, hoping it will let him evade the haze of tiredness that thrums through his veins. It’s a slow day, thank God. There’s nothing of note that occurred the night before. Everything is pacing along its planned trajectory. There are no new bodies and the last interviews go by without any mention of spirits or the paranormal.

Matsuura offers to take him for some lunch. Hawks, always eager to expand his palette, eagerly agrees and the two men head into the city. It’s a weekend, so the streets are crowded. People recognize Hawks and he chats with them, grateful for the welling of normalcy that the interactions bring. He’s signing an autograph when he catches sight of movement in a darkened alleyway.

It’s not a particularly noticeable shift, but something about it feels strange. Hawks hands the freshly signed soccer ball back to the gang of kids around him and tilts his head toward the motion. He blinks. What the fuck? That’s not possible.

It’s the man from his dream. He’s walking, steps heavy, sluggish and he’s moving into the alley. The 9th victim? But, but how? What?

His wings react to his agitation and he hones in on the spot, reaching, snatching at anything he can sense. His fierce wings never let him down. They’re versatile, practiced and perfected. Feathers detach and shimmer into the midday sun, ducking around corners and onto rooftops, feeling.

There’s nothing.

No heartbeat, no footsteps, no voices. Hawks’ eyes had slipped closed as he felt for the man and he snaps them open again, his avian pupils dilating, constricting to a fine point. He turns to Matsuura and tells the hero he’s going to check something out. His wings lift before Matsuura can answer and he flaps into the air, the sea breeze assisting his ascension.

The rooftops are empty and Hawks scans the streets below, his wings rustling as he pulls himself along. Maybe it was a trick of his mind? Did he really see that guy? That’s a stupid question, how could he have? That man is dead. It’s gotta be his tired psyche. He didn’t sleep well, plus this case has been on his brain so much that he’s even dreaming about it.

He lands on a nearby roof, his boots hitting the tiles roughly. Hawks closes his eyes again, sending a few more feathers out. The man, if he is real, will take this path if he is using the alleyway as an escape. There are no other routes available to him.

He’s still attuned to his scattered feathers when he hears the cat hiss at him. His eyes open and he sees the animal. It’s a black cat.

It’s across the street, lingering in an open window, its back arched and its fur standing on end. Hawks narrows his eyes at the aggressive display. There are way too many cats on this island.

As he and the cat continue to engage in their silent staring contest, he hears a scritching sound coming from the street below. Hawks follows the noise, leaning over the edge of the rooftop. A child is playing below. She is sketching something into the concrete with bits of multicolored chalk.

It looks like...huh?

It looks like some kind of cart, but, why...why is it on fire? She is busy tracing the licking flames, a yellow piece of chalk clutched in her small fist. She’s humming a mindless song. It sounds like some kind of dirge. It’s soft and melancholic, following a minor tune. A shiver creeps up Hawks’ spine, but he ignores the pebbling of his skin, shaking his head.

Curious, Hawks wheels down, tapping along the street. He keeps a little ways away from the girl, he’s not wanting to startle her. His long fingers reach behind him, into his utility pocket that sits on his belt. He tugs out a small sticker sheet. He always keeps little trinkets in his pockets. It takes real effort to put people at ease and Hawks prides himself on his ability to steadfastly maintain that part of his image. He kneels on his haunches, dropping himself to a friendlier level before calling out to the little girl.

“Hey! That’s a pretty picture.” His voice is all light and honey and he has a bright smile on his face.

“Oh!” the little girl chirps, beaming her own grin back at him. “Thank you!”

“Tell me about your drawing.”

“It’s a Kasha.”

“Hmm, I don’t know what a Kasha is. Can you tell me about the Kasha?”

“They come to take away bad people.” The little girl replies, going back to her sketch, perfecting her lines and colors.

“Oh! There’s a kitty in your drawing. Is the kitty a Kasha too?” Hawks asks, noticing the calico cat that’s attached to the handles on the front of the cart. It looks angry, vengeful. Strange for a kiddo to draw something so eerie.

“That’s the spirit of the nekomata, silly. Don’t you know anything?”

“Haha,” Hawks laughs, a genuine sound that makes him throw his head back, his hand bashfully scratching the back of his head. “Guess I don’t, huh? Do you like to draw...ghosts?”

“Not really. If I draw them they won’t-”

A distant voice is calling out a name. It’s female and coming from a house a few feet away, no doubt the girl’s mother or sister. The little girl calls back.

“Coming mama! I gotta go, mister.”

“Here,” Hawks begins, detaching a smaller feather and drifting the little set of stickers over to the girl’s chubby hands. “Thank you for answering my questions,” he smiles. She coos and snatches the sparkly sheet, the sunlight catches the glitter that adorns the stickers. He tickles her cheek with his detached feather and she laughs.

Her mother calls again and she starts to run off, her yellow shoes pounding on the street. Belatedly, she pauses before rounding the corner and bows low, a quick thank you slipping from her mouth. He waves back and smiles as she walks into her home, the door clicking behind her. Once he’s alone in the alleyway his grin drops and he stands, looking down at her drawing.

It’s so freaking odd. Sure, sure, these cases are in the news. But the drawing looks...familiar somehow.

Oh, that’s why.

That man he interviewed, the one connected to the congressmen, had drawn something similar. Even then, back in that dark interrogation room, the strange figures looked like something he’d seen before, but where?

That nagging feeling is back. It pulls at the back of his mind. What is going on?

Hawks pulls out a small notepad and replicates the girl’s drawing, noting the colors and positions of the nekomata. As he sketches, his wings arc above his head, lifting and lowering meditatively.

******

He comes back to the police precinct, his hands tucked deeply into his pockets. As he walks toward the chief’s office he runs into Amano. He’s the elder of his two assigned heroes and a font of knowledge about the island and its inhabitants. Maybe he’ll know something more about this doodle that keeps cropping up.

“Hey, Amano, you seen any weird drawings around town? Or, at the crime scenes maybe?”

“Weird? Like how?”

Hawks pulls out his notepad, flipping to the page with his sketch of the cat pushing the burning cart. Amano chortles, one gloved hand coming to cover his mirth.

“What is that? It looks terrible.”

“I’m not much of an artist, I'll give you that one. In my defense, it’s based on a kid's drawing, so cut me some slack here, man. She said it was supposed to be a kasha and a nekomata?”

“Oh! Yeah, I can kinda see that now. I know what those are. According to legend, kasha appear during rainstorms. They steal corpses out of their coffins. Some of the older folks say they collect the souls of the damned. You can’t get the souls back if the kasha get them, they’re taken to hell, or eaten, depending on what version of the story you’re listening to.

I mean, they’re all just old wives tales. We used to tell them on camping trips. They’re bedtime stories, something to scare kids into being good. Ooo, misbehave and you’ll get taken to hell.

Eh, that feels kinda strong when I say it outloud, hopefully people don’t tell their kids stuff like that. Anyway, it’s not real.” Amano pauses, his head tilting at Hawks’ serious expression. “Isn’t it a little early to be getting into ghost stories? It’s summertime. Besides...”

Hawks tugs his phone out of his jacket pocket, flicking through the crime scene photos as Amano elaborates on how ridiculous this ghoulish conversation is. Normally, Hawks would agree, but there’s got to be...oh...OH.

There it is.

His finger stills over the glass of his phone. It’s tiny, basically a scrawl, but it’s there. He flicks through some of the other photos, swiping through the different locations, searching. Ah-ha! Again, there’s that scrawl. This time, it’s almost cropped out of the photo. Still, there are two crime scenes with the scrawling of chalk.

It’s a tiny drawing, so tiny he looked right over it originally, but now that he knows what he’s looking for, it’s there, plain as day. It’s a drawing of a tiny cart with a cat pulling the handles, lugging the wheels forward.

Amano is still talking when Hawks looks back up. Hawks butts into his elaborations, not caring that he’s interrupting the man.

“Ok, so they take evil doers away? Spooky. Question for you. You got any theories on why it’s cropping up all over town?” Hawks lifts the phone to Amano’s face. Amano takes the device and examines the strange markings, his brow creases, but he hands Hawks his phone back with a small smirk on his lips.

“It’s just talk, man. People do all sorts of superstitious things around here. Don’t look too hard into it. You believe what you want to, I don’t know. If that makes sense. Like those old sayings: ‘Don’t clip your nails before bed’. ‘No whistling at night’. It’s just something to say.

Superstitions are weird like that. Kinda like why you don’t have a fourth floor in a hospital. The number four looks like the word for death when you write it out. It’s bad form. It’s asking for trouble. So, don’t put a fourth floor, and boom, no problems with death.”

Hawks hums at Amano’s explanation. Ok, that superstition about the fourth floor, yeah, that one he had heard about. Amano claps a hand on Hawks shoulder and tells him he’s going to call a few more witnesses in. Hawks nods distantly, his mind whirring, processing. Despite Amano’s assurances, something still feels off.

******

He’s got a night shift.

It’s only for one evening, so it shouldn't fuck up his sleep schedule too much. Hawks has already decided that he’s going to circle back to all of the crime scenes. He’s not used to being out of the loop, or being the one that people are looking at quizzically.

He’d shown the drawings to the head investigator and the man had given him a blank look before asking Hawks if he needed some time off from the case. If he’d been asked that question a few days later, Hawks might have taken him up on the offer.

It’s been five days since he had that dream, but he’s still seeing that man. He’s determined to haunt him, to flit on the side of Hawks’ vision, drifting around like a dead leaf in a breeze.

He saw him at a bus stop the other evening. His dark hair was plastered to his face, burnt skin sloughing off his shoulders. He looked like a walking horror and Hawks had brought himself to an abrupt stop, staring at the figure below. The bus pulled up to the stop seconds after, the sleek metal shielding the man from view. By the time Hawks lifted himself higher, the man was gone.

He saw him in windows, peering sightlessly out of the glass. He spied the man walking home from the train, trailing long streams of ash and smoke behind him. He never makes any sound. He’s not alive, so why would he? He had spoken to him in his dream, called his name, but after that? There was nothing.

The vacancy of his presence is what startles Hawks the most.

There’s nothing to feel, nothing to sense. It’s just this vast, blank, emptiness. For someone with a quirk like his, it’s deeply unsettling. Hawks’ life revolves around his ability to sense, to feel. The plight of the dead man makes his chest hurt with its loneliness and abject barrenness. Is that what it’s like to die? You drift into this void, alone? He doesn’t seem to have anywhere to go. Is this his routine? Is he trapped in an endless loop, playing out his final movements? How long does he have to participate in this charade? Is this some kind of purgatory for him?

Distracted by his thoughts, Hawks spots a different man down a dark street as he flies overhead. It looks like he’s pushing a creaking wheelbarrow. Wait. A wheelbarrow? He looks again, wheeling back through the night sky, but there’s no one there now. No, the street is desolate, not even the gleam of the moon can brighten the winding sidewalks.

Is this really a ghost? Do these visions even exist? Hawks has never given the topic of the paranormal much thought. It’s always been an outlier, untrue, and untested. A pseudoscience. Well, ghosts or not, whatever is going on, Hawks needs some rest.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully and Hawks collapses onto his bed, drifting to sleep as soon as his golden head hits the pillows.

******

After a goodnight’s sleep, it does get a little easier.

He feels like his mind has cleared, the cobwebs brushed to one side, for now. Despite the clarity, he’s still seeing something. The man hasn’t gone away. No, even the daylight sun isn’t able to banish him. He saw him in his hotel lobby this morning, waiting for an elevator. By the time Hawks zoomed over, he was gone, the only evidence of his presence is the rising numbers on the illuminated floor panel, clicking up, toward the 4th floor.

That night, while getting a late night coffee, Hawks, long since given up his avoidance of caffeine in the evenings, spies something a little more sinister. As he’s paying the friendly barista, he notices someone lugging something across the road. It looks like it’s heavy, dragging against the street. They’re struggling to hoist it and it’s looking more and more like a body to Hawks’ frazzled nerves. He can’t be sure if it’s the specter that’s been lurking after him, but he’s not taking any chances. Again, Hawks is fast, but it’s not his speed that’s letting him down here.

Each and every time, there’s just nothing there.

Is he freaking haunted now? Is that a thing? That crazy dream hasn’t returned, so that’s one, fleeting, plus. Wait. Does thinking about the paranormal bring it into existence? Is that how ghosts work? Ugh, if he’s going to be plagued, he might as well read up on this shit. What the fuck is going on? Is it the town? Is it the pressure of this case? Is it him?

As he takes himself, and his coffee, up to his hotel room, he ponders the strange predicament he’s landed himself in. He can’t fit all the pieces together. It’s too strange, too abnormal. He wants to lay down, try to get a little sleep. But, a hero's work is never done. He’s got another report to type up and another set of interviews to schedule.

As he sits at the small desk that faces the window, he hears a strange cawing. It sounds close, almost like it’s right outside the glass. It’s not the call of a seagull, no, it’s that crow again. But, crows aren’t indigenous to the island. He’d looked them up after that discussion on the wharf. No crows have been spotted on the island in over 50 years. The last known specimen was an old bird, living in the Miyako zoo. It died over 3 years ago.

Hawks pulls himself to his feet, scraping the chair legs against the floor. He opens the window and pokes his head outside. He can smell the salty aroma of the sea. It tickles his nose and makes him take a big inhale of air, filling his lungs with the crisp aroma. The crow can still be heard, shrieking into the night. There’s a soft, familiar, beating of wings, too. He cranes his head, scanning the blackness, his wings are lifted as well, but there’s no bird. Per usual, there’s no movement, and no creature is flapping its way into the night sky.

He closes the window and the cawing echoes to the other side of the room before fading away. Annoyed, he takes a sip of his coffee. Hopefully that’s the last he’ll hear of it. He’s got enough ghosts fucking with him, thank you very much, he’s not wanting to add a disembodied crow to the role call.

******

The next morning Hawks is on a patrol.

The murder cases have stagnated again. While this, on the whole, is good news, simply because there are no new bodies, he still can’t get that damned drawing off his mind. It feels like things are slipping away from him, pulling out with the tide and into the vast realm of the dreaded: unsolved cold case.

He’s frustrated, no, he’s not frustrated, he’s pissed.

He feels like he’s letting the whole town down. He’d been called out here to do a job, but what good has he really been? Sure, the townsfolk are weird, the police chief is an ass and the lead detective pretty much has Hawks written off as a conspiracy theorist nut, but he was sent here to do a job. He’s good at sniffing things out. He’s good at being a hero. He’s not good at waiting, and that’s all this case has turned into, one long stint of stagnation and thumb twiddling.

Hawks glides across the bright sky, the sun reflecting warmly on his ruby red feathers. His eyes and wings are alert, feeling for any disturbances. He’s rounding onto the main street when he sees him.

It’s a living, breathing man. Hawks can feel his heartbeat, it’s pounding against the man’s breastbone. Only problem is, he shouldn’t be in the realm of the living.

The 9th victim ducks into a large bank, his familiar dark hair gleaming in the sun.

Hawks maneuvers to land immediately, his wings tucking against his back and dropping him to the earth at an alarming speed. He startles the small huddle of pedestrians on the sidewalk, but he’s too intent on catching his quarry to smooth any ruffled feathers. He races up the steps of the bank, one broad, gloved hand yanking the glass door open.

There he is. He’s talking with someone. Hawks can almost hear what he’s saying, he just needs to get closer…

“Sir? Can I help you?”

It’s a bank employee. He’s wearing a crisp blue suit and his eyes are wide behind his horn-rimmed glasses. Hawks pauses at his question, then slides past him, but it looks like it was just enough time for the 9th victim to evade him. He’s walking now, disappearing from view, stepping down a back hallway. It looks like he’s following someone…

Hawks turns back to the bank employee, his wings vibrating with annoyance and impatience. “I need to talk with that man, he’s wanted in a murder investigation. My name is Hawks, my hero number is-”

“Oh, I know who you are. O-of course, please, do what you need to d-”

The bank employee’s voice fades as Hawks lifts himself, pulling over the heads of the people waiting in the lobby. A few feathers dash out, feeling, searching.

Where did he go?

Hawks reaches the hallway in record time, his wings folding as he paces over the marble flooring. There’s not much back here, but it does lead to a large, closed vault. Damn it all.

“Sir, sir, SIR! Can we help you? I am the bank manager. You’re not permitted to be back-”

“Sure, you can help me. I need access to this vault. There’s a man, you can check your security cameras, he just walked-”

“I do not have access to the vault. You will need to make a formal-”

“Whaddya’ mean, “you don’t have access”? Then find someone who does. Two men just...Damn it…”

Hawks phone is ringing, he tries to ignore it, but it persists, vibrating and chiming against his leg. The bank manager is bristling, his mustache quivering as he babbles on about warrants, and how heroes can’t act like cops. It doesn’t matter if Hawks is the number three, he can’t ignore protocol. He needs to come back with a warrant, or get out…

His phone’s ringtone continues to slice through the tense air and Hawks, after the 9th, exasperating, ring, lifts it out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID: it’s the HPSC. Fuck. He accepts the call on a final, shrill note.

“Hawks, here.”

“You need to come back...there’s been...All Might...Kamino...attack…”

An intermittent static keeps breaking over the phone line. It’s a crackling sound, snapping and rustling, it makes his skin crawl. It almost sounds like someone is whispering something, just below the faint hissing. “What? The line is breaking up-” Hawks lifts the phone, ah, there’s no bars in here.

The bank manager is still carrying on, heedless of Hawks’ inattention. “And so, I am within my rights to ask you to-”

“I’m going to need you to wait here and don’t move. Yeah, yeah, sure thing buddy, I don’t have a warrant, but I can make things pretty rough for you if you don’t do as I say. You don’t want to be involved in this case, believe me. Now, do what I asked and stay here.”

Lifting his wings, he flies across the lobby again, swiping a quick text to the police chief, if they hurry they might be able to catch this un-dead, dead guy. He jets himself onto the sidewalk, scattering a gaggle of beach goers.

As he re-dials the HPSC’s number he hears it again. It’s the call of that crow. It startles him and he almost doesn’t lift the dialing phone to his ear. God, this has gotta stop. He scans the sky for any physical sign of the screeching bird. It’s close, cawing and shrieking into the wind. It’s different from the other calls it’s made. It sounds angry, desperate, trying to reach him...trying to tell him something...

The line picks up and a voice repeats the familiar greeting of the HPSC.

“HAWKS, here,” he says, vexed, eyes scanning, looking for the disembodied crow.

The person on the other end asks for him to hold, and a few seconds later the head of the HPSC is answering, her soft voice both grating and reassuring to Hawks.

“Hawks. You need to return to Tokyo, immediately. All Might has been attacked by All for One. There are developments that we cannot discuss over the phone. Leave whatever intel you’ve gathered for the Miyako police chief and get back here. This is a national emergency. We need all hands. I don’t need to tell you, but the implications of this are dire. Hero society as we know it will be forever changed. I repeat, drop whatever you’re doing and get back to headquarters.”

The line clicks and that static sound rises again. There’s a garbling, muttering sound that’s rising from the hiss. It’s saying his name. KeigoTakamiKeigoTakamiKeigoTakami.

Then, all is silent. The voice is gone, the cawing is gone. A deep feeling of dread washes over him. It makes his feathers flair, plumage spreading and flexing. All around him, voices are chatting, laughing, living. They have no idea, blissful in their ignorance. Everything is, no, nothing is ever going to be the same again. God, All Might. If he can’t recover, if he dies...

Hawks lowers the phone, his eyes wide. Suddenly, all these ghosts of his don’t feel so important now.

Notes: @hawksweek2020

Beta edited by @albinoburrito

44 notes · View notes