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harknessxo · 1 month ago

Text

Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha finally has you to herself but things get a little bit complicated.

Warnings; kidnapping, knife kink, blood kink, mommy kink, dub-con, fingering, strap on use, bondage, choking, Stockholm Syndrome.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 3

A/n: Here’s part 2!!

After many hours you finally started to stir awake. When you opened your eyes a sudden rush of pain striked through your head. You held your head, closing your eyes again trying to lessen the pain. Once the pain had calmed down you opened your eyes again and found yourself on a bed that wasn’t yours. You frowned, confused on where you were and right then the memories of the night before came back to you.

You slowly sat up in bed, your head still throbbing from the pain. You looked around the room, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It was a dimly lit room with a few pieces of furniture scattered about. You were alone, but you knew that Agatha was somewhere nearby. You got out of bed, your legs feeling weak and unsteady. You tried to remember what had happened, but the memories were hazy. As you tried to walk closer to a window to look outside, you felt a cold piece of metal wrapped around your ankle. You looked down to find a shackle on your ankle, making your heart drop.

“I know. It isn’t exactly what I wanted but I couldn’t have you running away from me,” a voice said from behind you. You slowly turned to find Agatha leaning against the room door.

“What- Where am i?” Your voice trembled.

“You’re home. And don’t worry, no one can hear you here. I made sure of it,” she said, taking a step closer to you.

“The police will be looking for me as well as you,” you stepped back and far as the shackle allowed you.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m always three steps ahead of them. No one will find you here. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to take you away from me. You’re mine now.” She said, her voice firm and possessive. She took another step closer to you, closing the distance between you two, making you flinch.

“Why…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Why did you kill Wanda?”

“Because she was trying to steal you from me,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “She was so goddamn clingy to you, acting like you belonged to her. It drove me crazy and the thought of her having you for herself was something I just couldn’t allow.”

“She was my best friend!” You shoved her off out of anger, tears running down your face. She stumbled back slightly, a look of surprise crossing her face before her expression turned to anger.

“She wasn’t good enough for you! No one is good enough for you! Only I am good enough to have you!” She raised her hand and grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to look at her.

“Ah!” you groaned, her grip on your chin painful.

“You need to understand, sweetheart. You belong to me and only me. I’ll carve my name on your chest with the knife I used to kill Wanda if necessary. I won’t let anyone take you away from me, not even your precious little ‘best friend’. I did what I had to do to keep you safe and with me.” She said, her voice low and menacing.

“You’re fucking insane!”

“I’m not insane, I’m just a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. And what I want is you. So you better get used to being mine, because you’re not going anywhere.” She said, her grip on your chin tightening even more.

“You’re hurting me!” you gripped onto her wrist. She let go of your chin and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“And you’re being a bad girl. I told you to behave.” She said, her eyes narrowing at you.

“Why did you kill all those women?” You suddenly asked.

“I killed them because they looked like someone who did me wrong in the past. I knew it was wrong to kill all those women but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed someone to take my anger out on. You were actually going to be one of my many victims,” she leaned closer, her breath warm against your skin, “But I didn’t expect to actually develop a real fascination with you.”

“Are you gonna kill me now?”

“I was but I couldn’t just kill you. You’re special. You’re different from the others.” She said, her voice softening slightly as she looked at you. You let her press her cold lips against your neck as you tried to process everything. She kissed and nibbled on your neck, her lips trailing up to your ear.

“You're finally mine. You could be my wife.” She whispered, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Your wife?” You mumbled.

“Yes, my wife. I want you to be mine in every way possible. I want to claim you as mine and only mine. I want to make you mine in every way a man and a woman can.” She said, her voice low and possessive. She pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“Agatha?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” She said, her voice soft as she looked at you with an intense gaze.

“Please let me go-”

She shook her head in disappointment, roughly letting go of your wrist and stepping away from you in frustration. You began to sob, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your legs. She let out a deep sigh and knelt down in front of you, her expression now softer.

“You’re so pretty when you cry,” she moved her hand closer to your face. You closed your eyes tightly as she moved her hand to wipe a tear away.

“Agatha, I’m scared.”

“I know you are, sweet girl. But you don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She said, her voice gentle as she cupped your face in her hands and gently wiped away your tears.

“Please I won’t tell anyone-” she laughed at your empty promise.

“Now we both know that’s not true. It hurts that you would lie to me. You’re a smart girl, you’ll tell the police and they’ll come after me. And I can’t have that.” She said, her tone becoming serious again.

“You can’t keep me here forever!”

“Oh, but I can. And I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here with me. Even if it means keeping you locked up forever until you learn to love me.”

“Love you?” you stood up, “You killed my best friend! I hate you!” Without thinking, you took the closest thing to you and threw it at her. The object hit her square in the chest, knocking her back slightly. She stumbled backwards with a masochistic look on her face.

Your eyes widen when you realize what you did. You were about to apologize but she tackled you on the bed, holding you down, making you scream bloody murder. She straddled your hips and grabbed your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and pulled her pocket knife, pressing it against your throat. She looked down at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Now, now. Is that any way to treat me? That wasn’t very nice…”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” you stuttered out, scared of what she would do next with the knife in her hands. She leaned down and pressed her body against yours, her breath hot against your ear.

“That’s a good girl. You need to learn some manners. No throwing things at me or trying to attack me. Understand?”

“I…I understand.” She smirked and nipped at your earlobe, her grip on your wrists loosening slightly. She trailed the tip of the knife down your throat to your collarbone.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, not knowing if you actually wanted the answer. She chuckled and ran the knife down to your chest, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, I have so many things in mind, darling. I could hurt you. I could punish you. I could make you mine in ways you never thought possible.”

“You s-said you wouldn’t hurt me-”

“I changed my mind.” You inhaled, holding your breath as she ripped through your shirt with the knife, clenching your eyes tightly. She cut through your shirt, revealing your bare chest. She traced the knife along your skin, admiring your body.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to mark you as mine.” She pressed the cold metal tip against your nipples, making you whimper. She smirked and watched your reaction with intense fascination. She ran the blade gently over your nipples, enjoying the way they hardened under her touch.

“Does that feel good, darling? The cold metal against your sensitive skin?” You didn’t respond, too focused on your breathing, fearing any movement would cause her to nick you. She chuckled in amusement and leaned down, her breath hot against your skin. She gently nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing your skin.

“You’re being so quiet. I like it when you make noise. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“I…” You felt breathless. She pulled back and looked at you with a smirk, the knife still pressed against your skin.

“Go on, say it. Say my name.”

“No.” You refused. Her expression darkened and she pressed the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a little bit of blood.

“You’re so bratty. Say it. Now.” She demanded.

“Ah! Agatha!” You cried out in pain. She smiled at your agony, satisfied with your response.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She leaned down and licked the blood from your skin, her tongue tracing the cut.

“It hurts-” You moaned in pain as she licked over the cut. She smirked at your moan, enjoying the sound of your pain. She continued to lick and kiss the cut, her tongue moving up to your neck.

“You taste so good, darling. I could get addicted to this.” She looked at you, wiping some blood from her lip with her thumb.

“Please…” You begged, not knowing what for. Her gaze darkened again as she looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“I love to hear you beg,” she pressed the bloody tip of the knife on your collarbone, “Say it again.”

“Please, Agatha.” Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she continued to trace the knife down your chest, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“That’s better. You’re learning. But I want more. I want you to beg for me to touch you. Beg for me to make you feel good.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears running down your cheeks. You didn’t want to please her but deep down you actually did. During the time you spent together you had managed to feel something for her.

“Please touch me, Agatha.”

“As you wish,” she licked your tears before kissing down your body, putting the knife next to you on the bed. Her grip on your wrist had loosened and you took the opportunity to free yourself and take the knife. You pushed her off and stood up, shakily pointing the knife at her while covering your breast with your other arm.

Agatha stumbled backwards, a bit surprised by your sudden action. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, but her expression was of amusement.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s being feisty now.”

“Let me go.” You said trying to sound confident. She chuckled at your failed attempt and took a step closer to you, unfazed by the knife pointed at her.

“You’re so cute when you try to be tough. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t take a step closer!” You wielded the knife at her. She raised an eyebrow, amused by your warning. She took another step closer, her eyes locked on yours.

“Or what? You’re going to stab me?” she laughed, “Just give me the knife before you hurt yourself badly.”

“No-“ You were cut off by her taking the knife from your hand, bending your arm behind your back and bending you over the edge of the bed.

“Now, now. I thought we had an understanding. You were doing so good…” she fake pouted, taking off her belt and tying both your arms behind your back.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” You sobbed. She chuckled, making sure your wrists were tightly secured.

“Oh, I won’t hurt you. At least not in the way you think. But you need to learn to behave, hon. And I think I know just how to teach you.” She started pulling your pants down.

“No!” you squirmed against her, “Please!” She held you down firmly, not letting you move.

“Shh, just stay still for me.” She finished pulling down your pants and ran her hand over your exposed skin. Her hands against your skin made your body tremble. She smiled as she felt you tremble beneath her touch. She ran her hands up and down your thighs, her touch light and teasing.

“You’re so sensitive, angel. I can feel you trembling under my hands. Do you like it when I touch you like this?” She whispered into your ear, her body flushed against yours.

“N-no-”

“Liar,” she chuckled, slowly trailing the knife from your waist to the band of your panties, “Your body betrays you, my dear. I can see how much you’re enjoying this. The way your skin flushes, the way your breath hitches. You’re trying to deny it, but deep down you want this,” she snapped the string of your panties, making the fabric fall down your legs. Your breath hitched when the cold air hit your dripping core, making you shiver slightly. She smirked as she saw your reaction, noticing the wetness between your legs.

“Would you look at that. You’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even touched you properly yet.” She ran her finger along your folds, teasing you. You buried your face into the mattress, ashamed of how your body was betraying you. She chuckled and leaned down, her breath hot against your ear.

“Don’t hide your face, sweet girl. I want to see you. I want to see the look on your face as I touch you. You can’t hide how much you want this.” She continued to tease your folds, slowly circling your clit.

“Hmph…”

“Come on, baby. Don’t be so stubborn. Just admit that you want this. That you want me to make you feel good.” She increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

“I…I want you to make me feel good.” You finally gave in. She smiled, satisfied, finally winning your body over.

“That’s a good girl. I just want to make you feel good, angel,” She continued to rub your clit, her other hand gently caressing your thigh, “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you want me to touch you.”

“F-fuck Agatha!” She almost moaned when she heard you moan her name, her fingers moving faster inside you.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.” You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to even out your breathing. She felt your walls clenching around her fingers letting her know you were getting closer. She leaned down, her lips against your ear again

“Are you gonna cum, already?” She teased as you gasped for air, “Let go. I want to feel you come undone around my fingers,” she curled her fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot ever so perfectly. You came almost instantly, your juices gushing out into her fingers, your vision going white. She watched as you came, a satisfied smile on her face. She continued to pump her fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“There we go. Such a good girl,” she praised, slowly pulling her fingers out of you. You whined when she pulled her fingers out, suddenly feeling empty. She chuckled at your whine, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fill you up again soon. Now I’m going to untie you and you’re not going to do anything stupid, isn’t that right, sweet girl?” You nodded your head, too tried to say anything. She smiled and untied the belt that was holding you in place, letting it fall to the floor. She gently rubbed your wrists, massaging the red marks that the belt left behind.

“So obedient,” she pulled your head back by your hair, “How good was it?”

“So g-good-” you mumbled pathetically. She kissed your cheek and loosened her grip on your hair, letting you rest your head on the bed.

“I know, baby. You were so good for me. I’m going to give you a reward.” She took off the shackle around your ankle before flipping you into your back. You let her treat you like her doll as she positioned your body however she pleased. She smiled as she looked down at you, admiring your body. She spread your legs apart and knelt between them, her hands on your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, completely at my mercy,” her hands moved up to cup your breast, “I’m going to fill you up nice and full just you wait,” she started to get up, “Now stay still and look pretty.” She moved away from you and walked over to her dresser, opening the top drawer and rummaging through it. After a moment, she pulled out a strap-on.

“What’s that?” You asked, your vision a bit blurry. She held up the strap-on, biting her lip.

“It’s a little gift for you, angel. Something to fill you up and make you feel even better than my fingers did.” She slowly took off her clothes as if to give you a show. You could only stare, mesmerized by her beautiful toned body. She could see the look of awe on your face as you watched her undress, a shit eating grin still on her face. She strapped the strap-on around her hips and walked back over to the bed, standing over you.

“You like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…” you hummed and she leaned down, her face inches away from yours.

“You’re being awfully quiet. Where did that bratty mouth go?” You flushed, embarrassed.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I love it when you’re feisty. It’s so much more fun to break you.” She chuckled, her eyes roaming over your body. She picked up a fluffy pillow and placed it under your hips.

“Are you comfortable, sweet girl?”

“Yes.

“See?,” she said, positioning herself between your legs, “If you behave, mommy can be nice,” She ran her hand along the strap-on, coating it with your juices.

“Mommy? How did you-” She chuckled and placed her hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, baby, I know everything about you and you’re so perfect.” You tried to say something but she quickly shushed you.

“Shh, don’t you want mommy to fill you up?” She moved her hips forward, the strap-on pressing against your entrance. You were quickly to nod your head.

“That’s my girl,” she put your legs over her shoulders, “I want you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? I wanna see you fall apart.” You obeyed her order, keeping your eyes on her as she slipped the strap inside you. It felt like heaven as she entered into you, your mouth open with a silent moan. Agatha nearly came by the mere sight of your greedy cunt eating her strap.

She let out a low moan as she watched the strap disappear into you, the base pressing against her clit ever so perfectly.

“God, you’re so perfect. You’re taking me so well, baby girl.”

“Mommy!” You moaned out. She groaned at the sound of you calling her that, her grip on your thighs tightening.

“Say it again,” she said, slowly pulling the strap out and thrusting it back in.

“Mommy…” She started to pick up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with each thrust. She leaned forward, her body pressing against yours.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for mommy. You’re such a good little slut,” she wrapped her hand firmly around your neck making you feel like you were in cloud 9. The only sounds heard in the room were of your skin slapping and the wet noise your pussy was making. Agatha looked down at where your bodies connected and noticed the belly bulge that formed every time she thrust inside you. She let out a low moan at the sight of the bulge, her hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly.

“You feel that, angel?” she moved your hand down to your tummy, “That’s how deep in your guts mommy is.”

“M-mommy-” you whined.

“What is it baby?” she thrusted her hips roughly, “is it too much?”

“Yes- too- too much,” you gasped out, wrapping your hand around her wrist. Agatha smiled, not relenting on her brutal pace.

“Do you want me to stop?” She tightened her grip around your neck, squeezing harder. When you didn’t reply she laughed.

“You’re so greedy. You want mommy to keep using you like this, don’t you? You like when mommy is rough?”

“Please mommy?” You pleaded and she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Harder-” She chuckled darkly, her hips slamming into you harder than before.

“Is that better, angel?”

“Fuck- yes!”

“Such a dirty mouth,” she nipped at your earlobe, “Maybe I should punish you for that.”

“No, no, no- I'm sorry. Please don’t stop.” You begged desperately.

“I wasn’t going to stop anyway.” She chuckled darkly, keeping her torturous pace. Her other hand kept rubbing your clit and soon you came on her strap. She slowed her pace as you came, her hand still on your clit. She watched your face as you came undone, her own arousal growing.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let go for mommy.” Her thrust became sloppy and she chased her climax. She was getting close, her hips grinding against yours. She was so focused on her own pleasure that she didn’t care to notice how overstimulated you were. You squirmed and whine under her, your legs shaking from the overstimulation. She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding you down.

“Be still, baby. I’m almost there.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m gonna use you until I cum, and you’re going to take it.” She growled, her grip on your wrists tightening. The base of the strap kept rubbing against her clit until she finally came and in the process making you come a third time. She let out a loud moan as she came, her hips stilling against yours. She panted heavily, trying to catch her breath as she rode out her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. Did you come again, sweet girl?” She panted out.

“Yes, mommy…” you muttered out. She let go of your wrists and slowly pulled out of you, watching as her strap came out.

“Good girl,” she laid down beside you, her hand running through your hair, “You took me so well,” she patted your pussy, chuckling when you clenched your thighs together.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” her hand resting on your thigh.

“Mhm..” you buried your face into the valley of her neck. She chuckled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close.

“Poor baby, too sensitive to even speak.”

Suddenly there was a noise of someone bursting through the door of the house. Agatha was the first to get up.

“Mommy? What was that?” You asked a bit scared.

“They are here to take me, baby.” She explained while getting dressed.

“Take you? No! I don’t want them to take you!” You said desperately.

“I know, sweet girl,” she kissed your forehead while handing you a shirt, “Put this on for me.” Just as you finished putting the shirt on a S.W.A.T. team barged into the room, screaming at Agatha to show her hands and get on her knees.

“No!” You screamed, trying to get to her but one of the officers held you back, “Let me go! Aggie!”

“Shh,” she shushed you as they roughly put her in cuffs, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I don’t want you to go away!” You sobbed, punching the officer’s chest.

“Calm down.” The officer ordered as he tightened his grip on you, struggling to keep you from hitting him. You managed to free yourself from his hold and ran towards Agatha, clinging to her for dear life. She was moved away from you, and the cops held her back from you.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” She managed to say to you as she was being pulled away. You fell to your knees, crying as they took her away. She was forced out of the room, the last thing you saw of her was her being dragged away by the police.

The officers allowed you to get dressed before taking you to the station so they could ask you questions about Agatha. You sat in the interrogation room, waiting for someone to come in and ask you questions. The room was cold and uncomfortable, making you shiver. After about ten minutes the detective that had been on the case of the Angel of Death finally came into the room. Tyler Hayward. He sat down across from you, his gaze stern and cold.

“So you’re the latest victim of the Angel of Death.” He stated bluntly.

“I’m not her victim.” You said firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your statement.

“Oh really? Then why were you with her? Were you her accomplice?”

“No. Of course not-“ He cut you off as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“Then why were you there with her? What’s your relationship with her?”

“…she kidnapped me.”

“She kidnapped you? And you didn’t try to escape?”

“She did it to protect me-”

“Protect you? How exactly does kidnapping you protect you?” He scoffed, clearly not believing you.

“Because she loves me.”

“Love?” he laughed, “She’s a serial killer. How can you be so sure that she loves you? She killed your best friend-”

“She did it for me! For us!” She slammed your hands on the table. He looked at you, unfazed by your sudden outburst.

“Us? What do you mean ‘us’?”

“So me and her could live together in peace.” He shook his head.

“You’re delusional. You can’t honestly believe that a psychopath like her would want to live a peaceful life with you.” He shook his head.

“Don’t call her that.” You said angrily.

“And why is that? That’s exactly what she is. A cold-blooded killer who has no regard for human life.”

“Stop it!”

”You need to realize that you’re in denial. She doesn’t love you, she just wants to use you for her own sick pleasure.”

“You’re lying! She wouldn’t do that!” He slammed his hands on the table, causing you to flinch.

“Open your eyes! She’s manipulating you. She’s a master manipulator and you’re just another one of her victims.”

“Screw you, Hayward! I want to go home!”

“You can’t go home. You’re under police custody until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Then I want to see Agatha.”

“No can do. She’s not allowed to have visitors.”

“I won’t say another word.”

“Fine, have it your way,” he stood up and walked toward the door, “Your friend, Monica is here to see you.”

“Monica?” You asked with a hopeful voice. He nodded, opening the door and motioning for Monica to come in. She came in running towards you, giving you a big hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Y/n. I was so scared when I went to your house and didn’t find you there.”

“I’m okay, Monica.” you pulled away, smiling at her.

“Did she do something to you?” She sat down next to you, holding your hand.

“What?” you frowned, “No. She would never hurt me.” She looked at you with a worried expression.

“Y/n, she killed Wanda-“

“So what?” You stood up angrily. She looked taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“So what? She’s a killer, Y/n! She doesn’t deserve to live!”

“No! She loves me!” Monica stood up as well, her voice growing more desperate.

“You can’t seriously believe that! She’s just using you, can’t you see that? She doesn’t care about you, she only cares about herself!”

“What would she even use me for?!”

“I don’t know, maybe she wants you to help her kill more people or something. She’s a psychopath, Y/n. She doesn’t think like we do.”

“Don’t call her that!”

“Why do you keep defending her? Can’t you see that she’s dangerous?”

“Not to me.” You said simply.

“God, she has you brainwashed…” Monica shook her head.

“No she doesn’t!”

“Okay,” she said simply, “I have to go. I’ll see you when they finally let you go.” You frowned again at her sudden change of demeanor but nodded either way. Monica gave you one last hug before leaving the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Hayward was still watching you from the other side of the room, his expression unreadable.

They left you in the room for hours. You were starting to lose your mind, banging at the door begging for them to let you see Agatha.

“Please! I just want to see her one last time!” You cried out while dropping to your knees in front of the door, defeated. A few seconds later they finally opened the door and you scrambled to your feet.

“You get eight minutes with her.” Hayward said, irritated. He led you into another interrogation room where they were keeping Agatha. When they opened the door and you nearly tackled her to the floor with a hug. Hayward took the opportunity to leave the room, locking the door behind him. Agatha stumbled back slightly from the force of your hug but quickly wrapped her arms around you in return. She held you tightly, her grip almost desperate.

“Oh my sweet girl. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

“No, mommy, I’m okay. They are trying to make me hate you and I don’t like it.” She pulled away slightly to look at you, her expression a mixture of relief and anger.

“Those bastards. They’re trying to turn you against me. Don’t listen to them, baby. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“I don’t want them to take you away from me.” You sobbed as she held you tighter, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Shhh, shhh. They won’t take me away from you, baby. I promise. Look at me.” She pulled away and held your chin up.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine remember?,” she leaned closer to your ear, “Take this,” she whispered, handing you a brooch you’ve seen her wear all the time, “Keep this safe for me, okay? Act like nothing happened and I will find you, how does that sound?”

“For how long?” You whined.

“A week a at most-”

“A week?”

“I need you to be patient, sweet girl,” she chuckled , brushing a hair out of your face, “Don’t you want to live with me forever?” You looked down at the brooch before pulling Agatha into a kiss. She returned the kiss, her hands gripping your hips as she deepened it. She pulled away reluctantly after a few moments, resting her forehead against yours.

“Remember, just act normal and be patient-”

“Times up!” an officer interrupted, “Let’s go Y/n. You can go home now.” You looked back at Agatha, giving her one last kiss before you were dragged out.

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @p-taryn-dactyl

#fanfic #smut #angst #agatha harkness #fluff #agatha all along #x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #swat #serial killer #monica rambeau #dark!agatha #marvel #wandavision

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roosterforme · 11 months ago

Text

The Intern Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you try to delay the inevitable, you begin your job search. At least that way you'll be able to get out of your father's house and away from everyone who acts like you're incapable of doing anything on your own. When Bradley pursues you, in part to bolster his own agenda, he's pretty convinced you're more capable than most.

Warnings: Language, reader's dad has a name (eventually 18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Find the Prologue here.

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

Your father wasted no time over the breakfast that his chef made. You were still in your pajamas which consisted of a white silk camisole and shorts set, but he was already in a charcoal suit and tie, ready to seize the day. Or at the very least, your freedom.

"You need an internship," he said firmly as he smeared jelly on a piece of toast. "You need to complete a professional internship to show everyone that you are clever and talented and can think on your feet. You need to show them in person that your last name has nothing to do with it."

This was going to be a lot more involved than you originally thought. You carefully cut into your poached egg and asked, "So I can't just intern with you?"

He sighed and gave you a bland look. "I would love to have you with me all day and show you the ropes at Avio Technologies, but you already know that's not possible. You need to find a different department or a different company altogether."

You chewed your food and shot him a bland look of your own. It was almost amusing that he thought he could outwit you when he was the one who taught you how to play all of his games. "Maybe we could talk about this tomorrow?"

"You already got an extra day out of me, Sweetheart. My generosity has been all used up."

He looked almost amused now, so you knew you were skating on thin ice as you said, "I think an internship that starts in September would be the way to go."

When he set his knife down and bit into his toast, you straightened your back while he chewed. He took his time responding, and when he did, he asked, "And what exactly would you do during June, July and August?"

"There's a lot to be said for a little relaxation, Daddy," you told him in your most professional voice. "I've spent the last six years working nearly every day."

"And I've spent the last thirty five years working nearly every day. Please, get to your point."

You folded your hands in front of yourself and said, "I would be a better intern if I were well rested."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood, taking one last sip of his coffee. If you or he wanted more to eat, his chef would make it. And you could see his housekeeper standing in the kitchen doorway ready to run in and clean up after him as soon as he left the dining room. All of it made you want to scream. You weren't even sure you wanted this lifestyle.

"Are you aware of the stipulations on your trust fund?" your father asked you in a voice laced with more than warning. You could feel the blood rush from your face. You'd been waiting your entire life for that money, and not because you wanted to use it the same way he did.

"Yes."

He nodded at you before he kissed your forehead. "Then make your decisions accordingly. I'll be back in a few hours."

As soon as he was out of the dining room, his housekeeper had her hands on his empty plate and coffee cup, and you abandoned the rest of your food for the relative solace of your bedroom. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet, but it was close to lunchtime on the east coast. Maybe you could call one of your friends from school, but they were probably starting internships of their own this week. You glanced out your windows at the pool, but the landscaping crew was out there with leaf blowers, so you just flopped down onto your bed.

What did you want out of an internship? You wanted it to be like school. You had no problem with hard work, but you preferred it to come with a hefty side of fun. Cocktails, dancing, late night dinners, boys, shopping. You weren't too picky about how that fun was served up, but you were absolutely certain there was more to life than working nonstop. And nobody in their right mind needed as much money as your father had.

You reached for your computer and rolled onto your stomach. The last place you wanted to intern was at Avio Technologies where your supervisor would report every detail of your work back to him. Even if you found a department that had nothing to do with what he was working on, you'd be screwed. Your dad knew everyone. He'd find out if you forgot to cover your mouth when you coughed or yawned too loudly. No, you needed to find something without your dad's help.

After you update your résumé and your LinkedIn profile, you thought about contacting that hot recruiter you met in grad school. You were pretty sure you still had his number in your phone contacts. Maybe you should make a to-do list. Or maybe you should go back to bed now that your dad was gone. You ended up lounging around for so long that your stomach was growling because of your unfinished breakfast.

"Fuck it," you murmured, strolling out of your room still in your silk pajamas. If the groundskeepers saw you as you walked past the French doors, then it was their own fault. And honestly, you were more covered up now than you were when you were wearing your bathing suit anyway.

The fact that you had to sneak into the kitchen so nobody tried to help you toast a slice of bread was beyond annoying, but you tiptoed through the house anyway. You ended up walking around as you ate the toast, probably leaving a trail of crumbs, but at least this way the housekeeper would be entertained again. You wondered what the staff did all day long when it was only your dad here. He could literally take care of himself if he tried, but why try when you're worth billions?

You popped the last bite into your mouth and started dancing through the foyer to the song that was stuck in your head. You did a few spins and pirouettes, and then you started making up an actual routine as you hummed. When you heard the front door open, you tried to freeze, but your foot caught on the marble floor, and you stumbled awkwardly. Just when you braced yourself for a lecture from your father, you were greeted by deep laughter and amused brown eyes instead.

"Oh," you said, pressing your palm to your chest as you regained your footing. "It's just you."

"Just me," Bradley Bradshaw replied with a shrug. He surveyed your body, and you could tell he was trying his best not to react to your outfit. Or lack thereof.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Yes. I'm still in my pajamas."

"I didn't say a word about it," he replied immediately, those brown eyes suddenly feigning innocence.

You knew your shorts left nothing to the imagination. You were also very aware that your nipples were probably peaked against your silk top, but you kept reminding yourself you were wearing less than this yesterday in the pool. Bradley however was wearing another designer suit that hugged him in all the right places, and his tie was once again a little too loose for you to take him completely seriously. His hair was a bit mussed today, too. Maybe his wife or girlfriend had run her fingers through it, but if that was the case, then he shouldn't be looking at you this way.

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

His hands were back on his narrow hips as he replied, "Supposed to have lunch with your father."

"At least the chef and housekeeper will have something to do," you muttered to yourself. Then a little louder you said, "My dad's not back yet, and I hope you don't expect me to entertain you."

He chuckled. "Of course not. You look busy as hell dancing around. I definitely wouldn't want to interrupt that."

"Correct," you replied, tipping your chin in the air. "I've got no time for nonsense. Unless... did you bring your Armani swim trunks? It's a little early in the day for skinny dipping." You took a step closer to him. You couldn't pinpoint exactly why it was so fun to tease him, but he looked down at the floor and blushed a little bit before he replied which made you feel even bolder.

He met your eyes and said, "How embarrassing. I'm too early for lunch, and I'm too early for skinny dipping." His voice was a little softer now and you bit your lip, which drew his gaze to your mouth.

"You could always come back later."

His amused smile from yesterday was back as he said, "You really are a bit of a brat."

Then your father was right there, closing the front door behind him with a flourish as you took a step away from Bradley. He hadn't moved an inch, and his eyes were still on yours even as your father said his name.

"Sir," Bradley replied, turning toward him and holding out his hand. Your father shook it before patting him on the shoulder.

"We've been over this before, Bradley. You can call me Ted. We've been working together for a while."

"Ted," Bradley repeated, and you could tell that your father was secretly pleased by this show of respect. You wanted to roll your eyes, and then you realized that you were standing in the foyer in your pajama set at noon, and that was going to be a problem.

When your father turned toward you, his gaze was unamused. "Have you done anything today?"

"It's only lunchtime, Daddy," you replied. "But I updated my résumé."

"You have something better than a résumé," he snapped. "You have connections. Use them. I want you to have solidified an internship by the end of the week."

"But-"

He cut you right off, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as Bradley looked at you a little sympathetically.

"I don't generally deal with people who force me to repeat myself," your father said. "And I think you'll find I'm not the only one."

Now you were getting a little angry. He was talking to you like you just tanked a business deal for him. "I'm not some random person from your company."

But you could tell he wasn't listening now. He wouldn't really listen again until you had a job. "Once you find yourself an internship, I think you'll see that whomever you're working under won't take kindly to that sort of attitude. Now go get dressed," he said, dismissing you as he nodded toward the dining room and started walking.

You were left standing there with your hands on your silk covered hips and your bottom lip held firmly between your teeth. Bradley was giving you a curious look as he started to follow your father. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you replied, barely meeting his eyes. Your dad embarrassed you in front of him. And sure, maybe you should have been dressed for the day, but you just got back to California. You wanted a chance to catch your breath. But now you were standing there watching both of their retreating forms with a bad taste in your mouth.

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

After an uneventful lunch with Ted, Bradley walked slowly back through his house. It was really more of a mansion or an estate, something that Bradley supposed he himself could afford now if he so desired, but he was used to his condo in Mission Hills. And he just couldn't picture having staff living with him.

He found that his head was on a swivel, peeking out the French doors to check the pool area and glancing up the main stairs to see if you were still around. A smile always crept to his lips whenever he thought about you, and it was obvious why. You were clearly a bit of a handful. Definitely a touch bratty. Old enough to know better, but young enough to not give too much of a damn. And you always made Bradley laugh.

At Christmastime, you were tipsy and tried to get him to drink a bottle of wine with you. He spent the rest of the night wondering what would have happened if he actually followed you into your father's kitchen, just the two of you. If anyone else happened upon that scene, he figured it would have gotten back to Ted. It was probably for the best that someone else had interrupted that.

But now his mind was swirling with information. You needed an internship. Bradley was headed off to Europe and could use an extra hand with work all summer. There would be endless meetings and constant schmoozing about the proprietary missile guiding software that Avio Technologies was currently peddling to the US Navy. Bradley was silently dreading doing it alone.

You might also serve as a useful source of information. If anyone knew what exactly was going on at Avio regarding the misuse of funds that he was certain he'd stumbled upon, Bradley was sure it would be Ted. Your father knew everyone. He had his hands in the research end of things where Bradley worked as well as the sales end of things where his old friend Jake Seresin was currently dabbling.

This is why Bradley was spending so much of his time here now; he was looking for information. And also for Ted's daughter. If he could appeal to your tastes as far as a job went, maybe he could get you to join him for the summer.

"Once again, I'm sorry about my daughter," Ted said with a sigh as he walked Bradley across the foyer. "She's stubborn. Headstrong. She wants to have her own agenda. She'll make an exceptional CFO someday."

Bradley couldn't help but chuckle. "Something tells me you're right."

"She just has a lot to learn about staying in your pajamas until noon and working your connections to your benefit, but she'll get there," he replied with a wave of his hand.

Bradley glanced up the stairs one more time, hoping for a glimpse of white silk and your pretty face, but you had tucked yourself away somewhere out of sight. "Thanks for lunch," Bradley said, holding out his hand for Ted to shake. "I always appreciate when you let me pick your brain, sir."

He chuckled and clapped Bradley on the back again. "How many times do I have to tell you to use my first name?"

"Always one more, I guess," Bradley replied, heading toward the front door with a smile. "See you at the office later this week."

Once he was outside in the sunlight, he slipped on his favorite pair of aviators he'd had since he first started flying F/A-18s and headed for his SUV. He walked past an assortment of sports cars in the circular drive before he got to his more modest black Range Rover Velar. As he drove back into the city to the office, he already started to formulate a plan. He just hoped you'd be around when he showed up again tomorrow. You were already integral to his agenda.

When his phone rang, he took it in the car as he wove through traffic. He didn't even check the number since only a handful of people had it. "Bradshaw," he said as he pulled up to a red light. "Bradley, it's Judy." He sighed and relaxed back against the seat; his receptionist was exceptional. She could take a pile of bullshit and whittle it down to the bare minimum of necessary information for him. He needed to give her another raise. "I have a few résumés here, and some of them were dropped off by hand. You know... a few Vice Presidents are trying to get their kids jobs in the software development lab. There are also some who are hoping for professional internships. Want to look at them, or should I toss them?"

Bradley ran his hand over his mouth before he said, "I'm on my way back to the office now. I'll take a look at them, but I'm hoping I found an alternative solution to a professional intern that might just be perfect."

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

The following morning, you stood in your closet and held up your white bikini. You looked at it longingly, ran your fingers along the cute triangles that made up the top and wrapped the ties around your fingers before tossing it aside. Instead, you changed out of your pink nightie into an outfit that your father would probably refer to as 'smart casual' as soon as he saw you.

But you were alone for breakfast, because he was already gone for the day. When his chef asked you what you wanted to eat, she looked annoyed when you said cereal and fruit and told her you could get it yourself. The refrigerator was completely stocked, and you loved that your dad had removed cherries from his shopping lists since you found out you were allergic.

You swiped a peach and some berries onto the counter and started cutting them up, and now the chef looked like she was about to faint. You added them to the top of your cereal bowl and smiled pleasantly at her before you headed into the dining room with your coffee and breakfast. You'd have to contact some potential employers today. You already knew that. But you found yourself lingering over your meal until the cereal was soggy, trying to put off the inevitable a little longer.

You bargained with yourself. If you spent the morning looking for an internship, then you could lounge by the pool for the afternoon. "Excellent bargaining. You're so smart," you told yourself as you returned your dirty dishes to the kitchen while the housekeeper bounced on her feet nervously. She met you at the sink and snagged everything out of your hands.

With your computer on your lap, you sat on the couch and made a list of companies in San Diego that might fit the bill. The problem was, Avio was at the top of the list, simply because of the sheer number of different departments housed in the main office downtown. When you clicked on the Research and Development header, you saw a smug looking photo of Bradley Bradshaw and started to laugh.

"Clearly you know you're handsome," you muttered, reading about him in his short bio. Department Lead for Research and Development at Avio Technologies. Fifteen years as a US Naval aviator. Retired with medals of honor and a rank of Lieutenant Commander. Leading Avio in cutting edge research for naval aircraft software. "Impressive."

You scrolled through a few other departments and made a separate list of people to ask your father to introduce you to. When your stomach started growling, you realized it was already noon. "Time flies when you're not having fun," you murmured as you dashed upstairs, your bikini calling to you like a siren song.

Only because it would be convenient, you decided to ask the chef to make you lunch so you could eat it outside by the pool. You were just tying your sheer beach cover up over your bathing suit and leaving your room when you heard your dad's voice along with some others. As silently as you could, you tiptoed barefoot down the main stairs, looked both ways and dashed to the left toward the French doors. And then you slammed directly into someone.

"Shit," you whispered, grabbing onto an Armani suit while hands came up to your back to steady you. Then you looked up into those same pretty brown eyes as the big hands tightened around your waist. "It's you again."

Bradley was laughing, and the deep rumble had you pressing yourself against him. "Me again."

You tried not to laugh as you whispered, "If you come with me, you can ditch the rest of the suits." For some reason, you wanted him to join you on the patio, just like he had the other day. He'd ditched everyone else for your company then, and you wanted him to do precisely that again.

You tugged him toward the doors, but he just shook his head. "It's too early for skinny dipping, remember?" A rather inappropriate retort was poised and ready to go, just sitting on the tip of your tongue, but he added, "But I actually was looking for you."

Now your heart fluttered. "You were?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, releasing his hold on you. Your initial instinct was to whine until he touched you again, and you had to bite your lip to prevent another embarrassing moment. "I couldn't help but overhear yesterday that you're looking for a professional internship."

When he paused, you said, "I am. Go on."

He smirked, and he looked so much like his photo on the Avio Technologies website, you almost started laughing again. "I think I have something that could be exactly what you're looking for. Are you free tomorrow?"

"I could be. As long as it doesn't interfere with my sunbathing," you told him, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as his gaze dipped briefly to your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as that pretty pink color flooded his cheeks. He reached into his pocket without taking his eyes off your face and then held a business card between his index and middle fingers right in front of your lips. "Call my office this afternoon. Judy will set something up for tomorrow." He paused again. "If you're interested."

You plucked the card from his grasp, and he smiled as he turned to his left and headed for your father's conference room. As you studied the tidy font, you wondered what he was looking for in an intern. You wondered what he could offer you. After a quick detour to grab your phone, you went outside to make a call.

You were interested.

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

Interested is an understatement for me. Offer her a job, Bradley! And pack you swim shorts, baby boy. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

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3.1 Bucky

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, toxic plants (it's Lily, guys; Lilies are toxic)

Word Count: 929

Previously On...: You and Bucky were amazing together <3

A/N: The morning after.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Around mid-morning, Bucky came walking back into the common room of the Compound, a spring in his step and whistling an old Big Band tune. He made his way over to the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing himself a bottle of orange juice.

“Well, well, well,” Sam sniggered from where he sat at the dining table, eating a bowl of cereal, with Steve at his left. “Look who’s just waltzing home in yesterday’s clothes after being out all night. James Buchanan Barnes, are you doing the Walk of Shame?”

Bucky took a swig of juice and smiled at his two friends. “Not sure what that is, exactly, Big Bird, but I can promise you that I am feeling no shame right now.”

Sam and Steve exchanged a look of surprise. “Last night’s clothes? A smile on your face? No sarcastic comeback? Why, Steve, I do believe our grumpy little friend got himself laid last night!”

Bucky grinned; he couldn’t even be bothered to be irritated by Sam’s sass this morning, he was still riding the high of last night and early this morning. “Guys,” he said, coming to sit down on Sam’s other side at the table, “Major is amazing. She’s smart, she’s funny, she kicks actual ass. I’ve never met a girl like her before. I think this could really be something.”

Steve offered his friend a gentle smile. “Buck,” he said, “I’m happy for you. I really am, but don’t go rushing into anything, okay? You’ve only just met the girl. Just because you slept together once doesn’t mean you have to fall in love right away.”

“Six, Steve,” Bucky said proudly.

“Huh?”

“I had sex with her six times between bringing her home last night and leaving her place this morning.” Bucky flushed at the memory of the past several hours– in Major’s bed (three times), on the washing machine while his clothes were going through, against the railing of her balcony as the sun rose, and again in the shower. Hell– he wasn’t even counting what happened on the living room floor.

“You damn, dirty dog!” Sam said appreciatively, giving Bucky a playful punch on the shoulder. “Congrats, my man! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Bucky ducked his head down in pleased embarrassment. “I told you, guys; she’s something. Something special. I’m seeing her again tonight; taking her out on a proper date.”

Steve reached across the table and clasped Bucky’s hand. “I’m happy for you, you punk,” he said. “You deserve a good woman, just be careful about rushing into things.”

“Well, look who finally decided to find his way back home.” Bucky looked toward the door as Lily walked in, hands on her hips and looking pissed. Ignoring both Sam and Steve, she glared angrily at Bucky. “Where the hell were you all night?” she asked accusingly. “First, I come out of the bathroom last night, and you’ve left the bar without a single word of goodbye, then I was worried sick when you didn’t come back to the Compound. Even tried to get this one,” she nudged her chin to indicate Steve, “to track your location data, but he refused.”

“I stayed in the city last night,” Bucky said, not wanting to mention Major to Lily just yet until he’d had a chance to ascertain if she was still pissed about their interaction at the bar last night. “It was storming; didn’t want to risk driving the bike all the way back up here in the rain. You know how these back roads get when they’re wet.”

Lily’s face softened. “I just wish you would have called me, or at least answered one of my texts,” she said. Shit. Bucky had put his phone on Do Not Disturb while Major had been getting towels, and he never took it off. “I was up all night, thinking you’d gotten into an accident and were dead in a ditch, or got re-captured by Hydra and turned back into the Winter Soldier…” She trailed off as tears began to form in her waterline, and Bucky felt awful. Here he’d been, out having the time of his life with the most amazing dame he’d ever met, and his best friend was driving herself sick with worry for him because he couldn’t have been assed to send her a text. He stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Lil,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you worry. I wasn’t planning on staying out all night, it just sort of happened. Next time something like that happens, I’ll let you know.”

“You better,” she sniffled. “I was really scared.”

Bucky heard Sam cough from the table in a way that sounded a lot like “bullshit” and looked up at his friend. “Sorry,” he said, hitting his chest with a closed fist. “Milk went down the wrong pipe.”

Lily frowned in Sam’s direction. “How about you take me out to our brunch to make it up to me?” she said to Bucky, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist.

Bucky wasn’t the least bit hungry– Major’d made him scrambled eggs and bacon before he’d left her condo this morning and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he was exhausted. He’d only gotten maybe two hours of sleep last night, and had had quite a physical workout. But he felt awful about having had made Lily worry. “Yeah, sure,” he said, giving her a friendly squeeze. “Brunch with my best friend sounds amazing.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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superums · 1 year ago

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monkey d. luffy's 5 love languages

gender neutral readers. fluff. improper grammar. no uses of (y/n) or (name). established relationship. strawhat-coded reader. i tried to lean into luffys childlike personality without infantilizing him... tell me how good i did that please. is meant for opla!luffy but it can go for anime!luffy as-well. spoiler free

color coded text: luffy

physical touch: luffy is very touchy feely. he likes wrapping his entire body around you like a wet noodle just because he can and you're going to have to deal with that!! he loves giving you cheek kisses or small bites on your fingers, shoulders and chest but in a non-sexual way! he loves holding your hand and swinging it back and forth. he thinks is super fun and he'll do it really hard sometimes and make his arm loose shape and flail around in the wind.

acts of service: you could ask him to get a star out of the sky he'd do it!!! he'd do little things like get things off of shelves, grab something from your room or giving you a piggyback across an island but he'd literally do anything you ask him to without a second thought..well maybe be sides share his food, he'd have to think about it foe a second and then give you a piece. but fr he's big on helping you though, he likes doing things for you. and if you ever asked him why he dose he wanna help he'd be like 'because you need help' which translates to 'because i like being with you'.

quality time: you two spend alot of time together not only because you live on a boat together (with the crew ofc) but he also seeks you out when he's bored. downtime on the ship is v common because it can take weeks to get from point A to point B and thats where you come in. sometimes he takes you to the figure head and makes you tell him stories or talk about your thoughts. other times you just sit on the deck and sunbathe while he holds your hand it all depends really.

giving/receiving gifts: it doesn't take alot to impress him he's like a baby—easy to please! you could give him a fish & he'd wiggle it around before yelling at asking sanji to cook it for him. his gifts however are usually one of two things either— 1) it takes trials and tribulations to get or 2) it comes of as simple to someone from the outside looking in but it means alot to him no in between! like lets you say you want a apple he'd somehow fight a congregation of alligators to bring back 1 apple then he'd ask for a bite. ORRRRR he gifts you something like a drawing of you that looks rushed and childish with gears around it but it took him an hour—you watched him as he would go back and forth between looking at you foe a minute and scribbling and erasing on his paper. some might make fun of him for that but you of all people know that it means a lot to him that you have!

words of affirmation: he talks about you like you hung the moon and stars you could be a marine, a civilian, someone on his crew it doesn't matter. he'd tell everyone how he feels about you regardless if you're there or not. he never misses a moment to talk about you highly though his vocabulary is a little limited so he doesn't say things like "you're extravagant" or "i admire you." when he compliments you he says things like "you're so fun." and "i like you so much." again his words are surface level to those who don't know him but he really does think highly of you even if his words don't exactly reflect it but actions are louder than words anyway.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #one peice luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #opla x reader #one piece x reader #op live action x reader #op x you #op x y/n #📓💭🪷

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robthegoodfellow · 2 months ago

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Make Me Feel Mighty Real 1/?

follow up to praise kink soft dom Steve uber sub Billy fic (also on Ao3) from last year's Kinktober event. the boys play around with total power exchange. tagging @gigacat and @makeadealwithdean because i remember you liking the original 💛

no porn yet. pre-porn.

Billy didn’t want him to ask how his last exams went. Didn’t want him to mention his classes at all—a complete erasure of the last few weeks of compulsive flash cards and study guides and late nights at the library. He’d been mumbling psych terminology in his sleep, tossing and turning, and gnawed on so many pencils his desk seemed occupied by a tiny beaver.

Over the past however long since Billy had become his… well, his—his good boy, his baby, his first thought on waking, his to have and to hold in a sense felt more deeply than tying the knot, in a sense that transcended all he’d ever known of how two people could be together and frankly still knocked him breathless when he thought about it too much—anyway, since all that began, Steve had come to view his life as though through this peculiar prism.

Certain facets were as they’d been before, like now: soldiering through the numbers at work, making nice with surrounding cubicles, acting the part of the straight-laced office drone, diligent and dull as dirt. He’d been voted Best Hair at the office Christmas party not just because his hair was objectively magnificent but also because that was all anyone knew about him. By design.

He did his work, got paid, and the moment he left the building, Office Steve shut off. Some people centered their lives around a vocation, and some joined the rat race, scrambling to pull even, pull ahead. Then there were people like his dad, where career success determined your entire worth—your net worth all that mattered.

Steve was none of those things. Swore to himself he never would be.

So Office Steve had already been separate from the rest, from the facets of himself he valued most: the person he was with friends, with family, with girlfriends. The person he was just hanging out at home.

And he’d been content with those facets for so long… until Billy. Until something about Billy turned the prism and a flash of light unveiled a side of himself he’d never known was there, alongside the others, patiently waiting for that beam of recognition at exactly the right angle.

Billy dropping to his knees, face angled up, lashes low, eyes locked where Steve’s cock strained the denim.

Standing there, towering like he’d never towered before—looming, imposing, imperative—Steve had never felt so firmly seated inside himself. In command.

It was hard to explain. He’d been puzzling it through for months, but all he knew was that, these days, with every step he took up the stairwell to their apartment, something in him shifted, bestowed this clarity of need and means, so by the time he reached their door, crossed the threshold, he practically thrummed with it.

That day, knowing what he might find upon entering, the thrum heightened to a subdermal buzz, so intense he had to pause on the Welcome mat, breathe deep and slow. In control.

Billy was inside, would have finished his last exam an hour ago. And last night, as they drifted to sleep, he’d mumbled what he wanted, what Steve had been probing him for—what he wanted to do, how he wanted to celebrate, once exams were over.

Could we do… you in charge?

Like that evening in late summer, he meant, when they’d toyed with total obedience, Steve at the reins of every decision, free to follow any whim—unless Billy signaled yellow, they’d decided. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.

Me in charge tomorrow night? Steve asked, his blood already rushing at the thought, the memory.

Maybe. Billy had turned, nuzzled into Steve’s side, more snuggly under his arm. And maybe… try for longer? At Steve’s enquiring hum, a teasing lilt, he’d huffed, finally said it straight out: You in charge all day.

Steve hummed again, low rumble in the chest, and trailed fingers up Billy’s spine to hook in his necklace, twine the chain until it hugged his bobbing throat.

Saturday? Steve asked.

Depended on where his head was at, Billy said. If he was up for it, they could start early. Start Friday. And see how it went.

Baby’ll be honest?

Billy nodded—more accurately, rubbed his cheek at Steve’s ribs.

Baby’ll be where he wants? When I get home?

On his knees, if he wanted to start.

Billy nodded.

On the welcome mat, Steve exhaled once more. Unlocked the door.

Billy didn’t move from where he knelt on the floor, facing the couch, his shoulders at ease, hands on his thighs. He was in the same clothes from that morning—jeans and sweater. One of Steve’s.

The TV was on, volume low, a blurred murmur beyond the pulse pounding in his ears.

Steve closed the door behind him. Locked it.

“Look at me,” he said, and Billy did, turning his head, gaze skirting the floor to find Steve’s shoes. Watched as Steve toed off the shoes, as he approached, silent socks on the soft blue carpet.

Steve sank fingers into messy curls, angled the head to see Billy’s face. Thumb brushed beneath his eye, and though the lashes rose, the baby blues were soft and spacey.

“Color.”

Not a question. Billy blinked, slow to process. Steve stroked his hair.

“Green.” He said it quiet, on a breath.

Even unfocused, his boy had this ravenous quality, like his eyes, his ears, his every sense were sponges primed to soak it up, suck in Steve’s smile, the pleased curve, and Steve’s words, just as pleased, and soft.

“Good boy.”

#this just happened #been toying with idea awhile tho #harringrove #soft dom steve harringrove #subby to his soul billy hargrove #now settled into their dynamic some months down the road

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syoish-aot · 1 month ago

Text

"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 2)

eren/reader

Rating: M

2020s reincarnation of marleyan nurse reader & undercover eren

2.8k words

also on Ao3

note: this chapter includes the song Please, Please, Please by Sabrina Carpenter (spotify / youtube). I recommend listening to it when the scene plays (it's obvious when to start the music).

<- chapter 1 | chapter 3 ->

“Hey, Armin.”

“What’s up?”

Eren took a shaky breath as he pressed the phone harder against his ear. “You know how you told me that she-… that she’s not from before?”

“...yeah?” Armin slowly answered.

“Well um-… Well, I think we were wrong…”

A Quaint Apartment

Everything felt like a dream…

Which you found odd considering how when you normally woke up everything was a nightmare.

But not this time… this time it was a dream. A wonderful, peaceful, happy dream; and because of that, you felt inclined to enjoy every moment of it.

“What’s that?” You excitedly asked Mr. Kruger as you pointed to the strange object at the further end of the room. It looked like a picture frame but it was glowing like a light!

“It’s the TV.” Mr. Kruger said.

“Tee… vee…” You repeated slowly before you gasped. “It’s amazing…”

“Um... yeah it’s- it’s pretty cool.” He stuttered in reply.

“And what’s that!” You excitedly asked again.

“A microwave.” Mr. Kruger told you.

“That!?”

“The-- The fridge.”

You continued to dart around the apartment pointing at all the new sights around you and asking for explanations of what they were. It was amazing! Everything was amazing!! It was all so shiny and clean, the complete opposite of the grimy life that you were used to!

As you buzzed around the apartment, Eren’s eyes followed you.

He knew how you felt right now. Exactly how you felt, actually; because he’d experienced the same thing just that morning. He'd also woken up with no memories of the modern world, completely swept up in his first lifetime and amazed by the lack of war, death, and even the absence of titans. He knew how it felt to leave the last world and wake up in this one but… it wasn't supposed to be the same for you.

Armin said that you weren't like them. That you hadn't been from before and you only existed here, in the better world. But Armin had been wrong because just over an hour ago, as Eren had finished retaining his own memories from his modern life, you lost yours.

Which explained why you, his girlfriend of six years, kept calling him Mr. K-

“Mr. Kruger what is this place?” You asked, finally coming to a stop in front of him, wearing a smile so wide that his stomach flipped as the sparkle of excitement in your eyes made his heart race.

“Well uh- it’s-... it’s where you live.” He awkwardly answered.

“I live here!!”

“Uh- yeah…” Eren cleared his throat. “And… I- I do too.”

Your eyes somehow grew even wider. “You do too?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“W-Well uh-” Eren looked away from you and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how much was safe to say. He knew how confusing it would be if he threw too much information at you all at once and he had a feeling that confusion would do more harm than good. His friends had taken things slowly with him, so he figured he should do the same with you. Besides, it had only taken him about half a day for his memories to come back; so all he had to do was wait a bit for the same to happen with you. Right?

“Is it the same here?” You suddenly asked him.

“Is… Is what the same?”

“Do I take care of you here too?” You asked, causing a rush of heat to run up Eren’s spine.

“Y-Yeah… sort of…” He stuttered before he could think of anything else to say.

To be fair, it wasn’t a complete lie. You were his girlfriend so you did take care of him sometimes. You made dinner when he worked late. Cleaned the apartment on your days off. Got on his ass about not matching his socks on laundry day.

But he took care of you too. He mopped after you swept. Made sure the dishwasher ran when it was full. Watered the (overpriced and half-dead) plants you kept insisting on buying from the supermarket anytime you got groceries.

It was a partnership. And it had been for the last six years.

“Hm…” You hummed softly in reply as you continued to smile with that same glimmer of something- something familiar- flickering in your eyes. “It feels the same.” You told him.

Eren wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but he was too intimidated to ask.

Especially when your eyes flicked left, then right, then left again as you looked between his own. You were smiling, still smiling so widely as the expression on your face became so familiar but still so new.

He’d seen the look before.

Not here, but before.

In another time. In another life. Under different circumstances that made being close to you in any way impossible.

“It’s probably time for bed, isn’t it?” You asked him as you pulled away. “Do you need me to help you change?”

Eren’s heart leapt into his throat again. “N-No!” His cheeks flushed crimson. “I can um- I can do that myself.”

You laughed and it made his heart flutter.

Just like it always did and just like it always had- even in that brightly lit hospital room in Liberio.

A Cozy Bedroom

There was a weight against your chest when you woke up the next morning.

A solid weight.

It was warm. Soft. And it lifted, just slightly, before something tickled your nose.

“Mrr…”

Your eyes fluttered open and met two wide yellow eyes with pupils in straight slits staring back at you.

The cat, with striped brown fur and a single canine sticking out from between its lips, immediately nuzzled its face against your cheek.

When you didn’t react it pulled back, yawned, stretched, and then crawled off your chest before hobbling on three legs to the end of the bed. It sat down, looked back at you, and then jumped to the floor with another “mrr” as if to say: “It’s time to get up.”

You blinked once. Twice. Three times. And then fully sat up to glance around the room.

When you’d fallen asleep last night the room had been unfamiliar; and now, as you were waking up, it was the exact same.

It was unfamiliar.

But there were photographs of you and Mr. Kruger on the walls. A shelf full of books that look very well-read. A pile of laundry and a warmth that surrounded you, immediately making you feel calm.

This place was home.

Even if Mr. Kruger hadn’t told you that last night, you felt like you’d still know without needing to be told. Something in you would just know.

A small home. No war, pain, or death. A warm bed. A cat and the smell of good food wafting from down the hall.

You knew it wouldn't last long- this beautiful dream, because the beautiful dreams never lasted long. So you made up your mind that you were going to cherish it. Cherish every moment of this wonderful dream.

The cat stuck its head back into the room:

“Meeeooowwwwwwww…”

You smiled.

“You're right, it’s time to get up.” You told the cat.

This dream was too nice to let it go to waste.

A Warm Living Room

As you left the bedroom you immediately took in your surroundings. You'd been in here the night before, but this looked different during the day.

The same itchy couch sat in the middle of the living room. There was a pillow on it and a blanket messily thrown over the back. A coffee table with scattered pieces of paper and a chipped tea cup. One side of the wall had a large window and a balcony, which was the source of most of the light.

From another room, just across from the living room, you could hear shuffling.

Sizzling.

Feet against tile and music playing.

There was a voice, just barely audible as he hummed along to the melody on the radio.

(at least you assumed it was a radio)

You couldn’t help slowly creeping towards the kitchen to seek out the sound.

That's how you found Mr. Kruger, standing in front of the stove and holding a spatula in one hand with a small black cat in the other. He flipped a pancake, bouncing to the beat of the music as he rocked the cat back and forth in his arms.

A smile spread across your face as he started to mumble the words to the unfamiliar song:

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste. It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way, I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't-

The kitten reached up to swat Mr. Kruger’s nose, which made Mr. Kruger look down at it.

I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes Yeah, I know All I'm asking, baby~

Suddenly, he held the spatula like a microphone:

Please Please Please

Don't prove I'm right!

You noticed the cat he was holding had a missing eye.

And please, please, please Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice!

He kissed the kitten’s forehead.

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker oh~

Mr. Kruger placed the cat on the counter and tapped its nose along to the beat:

Please Please Please!

On the counter next to the kitten was a big fat orange and white cat. It easily tripled the kitten in size. Mr. Kruger scratched it under its chin before he continued to sing, this time slightly louder and with more confidence, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

And we could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me I'm just kidding, but really, really, really-

The spatula became his microphone again.

Please, Please, Please Don't prove I'm right~

The brown cat that had woken you up stumbled into the kitchen and rubbed against Mr. Kruger’s leg.

And please, Please, Please, Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice!

He crouched down to pet its head.

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another, I beg you, don't embarrass me motherfucker, oh~

The cat let out a happy ‘mrr’ as Mr. Kruger scooped it up into his arms and dramatically held it up in the air. Its three limbs dangling uselessly at its side.

If you wanna go and be stupid don't do it in front of me~

He lowered the cat to cuddle it to his chest.

If you don't wanna cry to my music don't make me hate you prolifically~

“Mrr.” The cat said again before it looked across the kitchen at you.

Please, please, please,

Mr. Kruger sang.

Please, please, please,

He curiously tilted his head to the side.

Please,

He followed the cat’s line of sight

Please,

He saw you.

please, pl-

“AH!”

Mr. Kruger jumped, dropping his spatula to the floor as his face burned bright red. The cat leapt from his arms (stumbling to land on account of its missing back leg). It wobbled as it ran past you out of the kitchen while the last few notes of the song rang out.

Mr. Kruger was left completely frozen.

You pressed your hand to your mouth and held back a laugh.

That’s when the fire alarm went off and the kitchen filled with smoke.

A Warm Living Room

“So it’s… a radio then?” You asked as you flipped the strange device around in your hand. It was the thing that Mr. Kruger had been using to play music earlier but you weren’t sure how that was possible given the smooth texture that felt like glass. He had called it a ‘phone’ but you thought that was an odd thing to call it, considering it looked nothing like a phone.

“That’s one thing you can use it for, yeah.” Mr. Kruger explained as he held out his hand and you gave it back to him. “It’s also a camera.” He explained as he clicked one of the buttons on the side and suddenly you were looking right through the device to the floor.

“Woah!” You exclaimed, excitedly grabbing it back from him as you flipped it around in your hands again.

You were about to comment on how strange this place was. How strange and wonderful, but you worried that mentioning it might put an end to the fantasy. As if acknowledging that this wasn’t real, it would make it all be over.

You quickly shoved all thoughts of what was a fantasy and what was reality into the back of your mind as you handed Mr. Kruger the device back, sure that he would have even more fascinating things to show you as the day went on.

On the coffee table in front of you were two empty plates from the breakfast he had made. It was delicious, sweet pancakes with more syrup than you’d ever been allowed. You’d gotten so used to bland rations with no flavour whatsoever. Even your tea always had to be taken black because anything else would be a waste of the limited resources you had.

Sitting on the couch next to you was the brown cat that woke you up. He was purring loudly with his three legs tucked under him. He occasionally nuzzled against your thigh to beg for attention so you patted his head and gave it to him. The black kitten was completely asleep on Mr. Kruger’s lap as her tail twitched occasionally despite it. Between the two of you was the big fat orange and white cat. He was grooming himself after spending your whole meal begging for food (which Mr. Kruger said you weren’t allowed to give him because he was on a strict diet).

You’d met a few cats before, street cats that is. Cats that were much too wary of humans and wouldn’t let you near them without darting off. Those cats were the exact opposite of these ones. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of affection as you watched Mr. Kruger idly scratch the kitten behind the ear as he tapped away at the glass phone in his hands.

“There are some people coming over later.” Mr. Kruger told you as he put the phone down on the table.

“Some people?” You asked.

“Yeah. Our friends, they um- they wanna talk to you.”

“Which friends?”

Mr. Kruger sounded hesitant to answer. “You probably don’t remember them.”

You curiously tilted your head to the side. “Why not?”

“I uh- it’s- they’ll explain it.”

“Why can’t you explain it?”

“I don’t wanna confuse you.”

“Why would you confuse me?”

“Just-” Suddenly he seemed irritated and more reminiscent of the Mr. Kruger that you knew. Of the real Mr. Kruger. The one that exists outside of this place. “I’m sorry.” He said with a sigh as his shoulders relaxed and the tension washed out of his body. It wasn’t something the real Mr. Kruger often said. “I don’t want to make this harder for you.”

You studied his face.

His beautiful face.

You studied the way his eyebrows tensed and scrunched together before they flattened again and he looked over at you with so much care in his eyes that it made your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest.

“Mr. Kruger?” You asked, just above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He answered, just as softly.

But you didn’t have anything to ask him. Not really. You had things you wanted to ask him, of course. You wanted to ask him where exactly you were, but you couldn’t risk that.

Because if you asked him then-... then it might all be over.

His hand moved to the couch between you and you felt his fingers gently brush against it. It sent an electric rush of heat up your arm that radiated through your entire body.

If this was real life he wouldn’t have touched you.

Couldn't have touched you, because it wasn't allowed.

So you were glad this wasn't real life.

You were glad this wasn't real life, because it meant you could curl your fingers around his and hold his hand.

It was warm.

“It’ll make more sense eventually.” Mr. Kruger told you.

“...okay.” You replied.

But you didn’t want it to make sense.

It was so much more wonderful when it didn’t.

TAG LIST: (like this post to be added or unlike it to be removed)

@xngelsau @f4irygard3n @vlsquuu @fvckingeetar @shmaptainbonky @maluvilela @gojojang @merrygo14 @ebubeu @dumdxm @janneeeexdxc @huni7857 @misshale21 @dracucil @venus1224idkpleaze @decadentprunepersonadragon @magictrump @kooromin @ilovemollyweasley @azulaenthusiast @dattebakay @suagxsugax @sky-full-of-magic @longestline @skoll1897 @hayleighloatx @datshittuebrat @br0ken-g1rl @tbzzluvr @mxnst3rz @ratkidcalledallie @sieihebendh @lcve1yk3nz1e @marklover142717 @areenaa

#eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #aot x reader #my post #my writing #i found you too

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

Text

𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 — a riki nishimura fanfic

𑁍 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: things don’t exactly go as planned regarding your flight, leading to you crossing paths with the mysterious airport security agent once again

⚡︎ ᴄᴡ: swearing, mentions of food and anxiety, flirty behaviors (duh), mildly suggestive nuances, ft. HANNI from nwjns

♡ ᴡᴄ: 1.2k ~ read pt. 1, pt. 3, and pt. 4 here

You double checked your boarding ticket just to make sure you were headed in the right direction. “Gate 11A, boarding begins at 11:45am, seat number 34B,” you mumbled to yourself as if jotting down a mental reminder. It was currently 11:58am, and your anxiety was on the brink of explosion. You thought to control your breathing again, but that would only slow you down. After another minute of rushing around the airport had passed, you finally found your boarding gate. However, to both your luck and misfortune, the flight was announced “delayed.”

You sighed, returning to the airport lobby.

Looking around for an idle seating lane, you took a corner seat while you waited for the attendance speaker to call you up again. That’s when you spot the TSA agent from earlier as he makes his way over, helping himself to the empty seat beside you.

How wonderful.

“What? Did they finally fire you?” You asked sarcastically.

“Hello, to you, too. And no, I’m just on my lunch break.”

“So you decided to sit by me?”

“I decided to sit in a chair.” He flashed you a phony smile before digging into his lunch bag, pulling out a plastic container of gyoza and another container of fruit salad.

“Want some? I’m sure you’re hungry, and these are really good, too” he offered, bringing one of the saucy dumplings to your mouth with chopsticks.

“No, thanks,” you lied, crossing your legs.

Of course you were hungry, but that didn’t mean you wanted to take any of his food for yourself.

“No, seriously, I don’t mind,” he continued, as if reading your thoughts. “Just try it. For me. Please?” He pleaded, pouting with his puppy eyes.

Ugh, why did he have to be so cute?

You gave in, parting your lips as he airplane fed you one of his dumplings, taking about half of the filled treat into your mouth in one bite.

Flavors of savory pork and warm spices greeted your tastebuds, the soft slippery dough melting in your mouth.

You closed your eyes, saying a small prayer to yourself in hopes that he didn’t poison you, although it'd be totally worth it for the taste.

He must’ve did something similar, because you noticed him mutter a phrase to himself before taking the other half of the dumpling in his mouth.

You tried to ignore the fact that he just ate after you, a complete stranger.

“So.” He began in between a few bites. “Where’re you headed?”

“Paris, France.”

“For love?”

“Work, actually.”

“Perfect!”

“Why’s that?”

“They put extra melon on my salad! I love melons!” He smiled into the next fork full of colorful fruit, eyeing you playfully.

You moved to zip up your hoodie all the way, assuming that his apparent ‘love for melons’ was nothing more than a sly innuendo. “You’re so sus,” you remarked.

“Not at all. My parents raised me to be a gentleman. I wouldn’t dare disrespect a lady’s modesty.”

“Right, because you’d rather swipe her panties instead,” you retorted sharply.

Fuck, you’re being rude again.

A loud silence enveloped the space between you too, not that there was much space to begin with anyway considering the closely situated chairs. He looked down at his food, before meeting your eyes again.

“I didn’t take them, y’know?”

His deep, and serious tone startled you as a sincere expression wavered over his face. The feeling of butterflies crowded your stomach right before static from the loud speaker broke the moment:

“Attention all travelers. Due to aircraft related mechanical issues, all flights scheduled between the hours of 11am and 1pm are canceled. We are offering full ticket refunds or flight rescheduling options at the check-in office located at the front of the building. We apologize again for the inconvenience and ask for your patience and understanding as we return your belongings and work toward serving you better. Thank you and good day.”

The speaker voice cut out.

This can’t be happening right now.

Riki busied himself with putting away his lunch before getting up to leave.

Something in you wanted him to stay.

“Hey, where’re you going,” you stood up and asked, fighting the urge to follow him.

“Aww, miss me already, huh? That’s sweet,” he kept walking.

“I forgot your name!”

“It’s Riki.”

“Riki,” you said again quietly to yourself, making another mental note from this hectic day.

“The one and only!” He chimed gleefully.

His long legs carried him at wide strides, so he was already at the elevator by time he looked back to see your face just one last time.

“Oh, and by the way, check the lost and found,” he smirked before entering the elevator, the shiny metal doors closing swiftly behind him.

………………………………………………………………………………….

You notified your boss and told him that you wouldn’t be able to make it in time for the business meeting in Paris tomorrow. Surprisingly, he settled for you to attend the conference meeting virtually instead. After talking with your boss, you texted your friend Hanni to see if she was willing to pick you up from the airport. You weren’t fond of most Uber drivers except this one guy named Noah. His car always smelled like peaches, and he never made you feel uncomfortable during a ride. Though, the con about Noah was that he charged a lot for his services, so Hanni was your only hope.

1:06pm

Hanniiii

1:08pm

Hiya! How’s the flight?

1:08pm

Cancelled 🥲

read

1:11pm

Would you be willing to pick me up?¿?

1:12pm

Dunno, are u willing to pay me 🤑

1:13pm

AppleCash: ____ has sent you $50!!

For la gas :>

1:13pm

Love you lots! OMW!

You knew it would take a while before Hanni arrived, so in the meantime, you decided to check the lost and found bin like Riki had told you to. Or, more specifically, the TSA security checkpoint area, where ‘missing’ and ‘confiscated’ items are held. Though, you weren't expecting anything in particular, you hoped to find the light blue panties you left behind earlier.

A nearby staff member helped you find the area in question, where you were left to search for whatever it was Riki wanted you to find. It didn’t take long before you noticed the lace underwear neatly tucked away inside a clear plastic bag, folded the exact same way. A feeling of guilt rushed over you as you remembered how rudely you spoke to Riki. You felt silly for letting yourself get so upset about something so simple. You further inspected the bag, only to find a yellow handwritten note taped to the back. “_____,” it read, with a smiley face beside it.

He remembered your name.

You took a deep breath before reading the message.

Holy crap, he gave you his number—

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was probably Hanni, letting you know that she was here.

Riki was proving to have a strong effect on you. It was all the little things he’d done in such a short time frame that made such an impact on everything around you.

You eventually exited the airport at 1:38pm, with your sage green suitcase, empty stomach, and love letter from the mysterious TSA agent accompanying you. Making your way to Hanni’s car, you tossed your belongings in her trunk and sat in the front seat. “Telepatía” by Kali Uchis played quietly from the stereo as she hummed along to the upbeat melody. “You never fail to amuse me, Hanni,” you proclaimed, buckling your seat belt. She drove around the parking lot, taking a short cut to avoid the traffic ridden afternoon highway, turning up the song.

“Saur,” she began with her warm Australian accent.

“Wanna get dumplings?”

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Tag list: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @ashgonedash @hachimarii @beomgyusonlywife @vixen-vivien @suganing @clxudysky3z

ᴀ/ɴ 𓂋 thanks for reading! as some of you may know, the first part of this story was intended to be a one shot, but when the people ask, i deliver!! anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this piece! ~ love always <3

#enhypen #new jeans #new jeans hanni #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen niki #kpop ff #niki ff #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki nishimura #enhypen fluff #enhypen ff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen scenarios #enha ff

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tojisbbygworl · 1 year ago

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The Worst Mistake - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader pt. 1

Summary: Hobie has never been one to shy away from anything. Even if the risk is greater than the reward.

Or; Hobie takes too many shrooms, and all of his fears and doubts about the woman he loves comes rushing all at once and he makes an extremely irrational decision.

Characters: Hobie, Miles

Tags: 18+, Substance Use/Abuse, ANGST, Hurt/No Comfort, Bad Break Up, AU - No Powers, Hobie lives in Brooklyn, Hobie is 21+, Miles is 18+ only cuz it makes sense for the story not weird I promise, Miles is kind of an ass, Hobie and you need a HUG, I forgot he was British, OOC but it’s because of the drugs

author’s note: Okay, this is a plot that I have been wanting to write for months now but didn’t know which fandom I should write it for. I will be pouring all my feelings out into this so hopefully you shed a tear or two and even if u don’t lie and say u did!

Part 2 Part 3

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

It was getting late. The tv was blaring with some random show that the both of them didn’t have to pay attention to. She was sleeping next to him, a scowl on her face. And Hobie had never felt more alone.

The day was going so well at first. The two of them had all day to spend together. He didn’t have a gig or practice, she didn’t have to work or go to class, they made some sandwiches and had a nice picnic by a river. What went wrong?

What? Is he a fucking idiot? He knows exactly what went wrong.

For months now, Hobie’s been getting into heavier drugs than weed. She was never interested, the ‘don’t do drugs’ campaign going to work in her brain whenever he even mentioned anything else. But, she didn’t judge. She understood that shrooms just weren't for her and he never pressured her or pushed. So, he took them.

The first time was nice. They found that he was a lot more clingy than usual. He opened up more. Touched her more, kissed her more. He even giggled a few times that day.

Then he grew a small tolerance. So he started taking more…and more…and each time something was different. Shrooms made him speak his mind a lot. Sometimes too much and inappropriately. He didn’t know how to get what he was saying across in a way that wouldn’t insult her so he just said what was on his mind.

In the middle of the night, after having a quick dinner at the diner near his apartment, he remembered all the times he’s thought about breaking up with her. Usually, when he would have these thoughts, he swallowed them knowing it was just his paranoia. But his mind was scattered. So he told her. And when she started crying he just sat there and stared. To his defense, at least he looked sorry. But he didn’t take it back. And his explanation was half assed.

“Sometimes, I just get scared for our future. But I try to ignore it because I love you so much. And I know you love me.” That’s…not what he meant to say. He’s scared that he is not enough. That he won’t be able to give her the life she deserves. Why can’t he just say that instead of sitting here and watching her wipe her tears?

How they even came back from that night is nothing short of a miracle. But, Hobie was sure that there was no coming back from this.

It wasn’t until too late that he realized that he isn’t the "Tolerance God" that he seems to think he is. He thinks because he’s not throwing up, seeing smells, and hearing colors that he’s doing just fine. Today, he took more grams than he ever had. 7, to be exact. Along with the lemon tekking, it was certainly the strongest dose he ever had or will have taken. And he can feel it.

She fell asleep hours ago when they got home from their beautiful picnic. She hadn’t spoken a word to him when she got in the bed, the only indication he had of how she felt being the sneer she gave him before she pulled the blanket over herself and turned around. She left no room to cuddle, there were two blankets on the bed and she snatched the entirety of one of them. He deserved it.

“You know babe, you need to grow up, okay?”

Why the hell would he say that? Why did he start thinking about all the faults of their relationship at that moment? About how every fight they had was over something stupid, and even though they weren’t often, they were exhausting. She held onto her anger and refused to let go. It’s been something he’s wanted to talk to her about, but why now? And why like this?

She was laughing before he said that, smiling because they were both gushing about how much they appreciated each other and how excited they are for their future together and then he dropped that bomb. And he smiled while he did it. The way her face dropped and her eyes began to water; he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.

He tried saying sorry when they walked in. She didn’t listen. And why would she?

Hobie looks at the back of her head. Then he stared at the ceiling. His heart was beating fast and he started to feel a little sweaty. Taking in some deep breaths, he realizes that his girlfriend giving him the cold shoulder is absolutely not helping his high. He swallows his pride then reaches over to shake her awake.

When she does, she turns to him. She still has that pained and troubled look on her face. He gulps, but can’t stop staring at her. His mouth opens only slightly, and his big brown eyes flicker between hers.

“What is it?” She says quietly, her voice raspy from sleep.

“I just…” he gulps again before taking a part of her blanket and lifting it up, tugging at it slightly. “I wanted to get under the blanket.” His voice is full of vulnerability that he never imagined he’d be capable of.

Unfortunately, she didn’t hear it. “There’s a blanket over there.” She snapped at him.

He looks down at the blanket sitting next to his feet. Then, looking back up at her and pleading with his eyes, he tries again. “I know…but…” Once again, his words are stuck in his throat. He just can’t convey what he was trying to say to her.

‘But I want to be under your blanket. With you. Please?’

He can say that she didn’t give him a chance as she scoffed and tugged her blanket out of his arms and turned back around again, but she was attentively listening before he trailed off. It felt as though the blanket was ripped from his grasp, and he stared in dismay at his hand still reaching out to her. He doesn’t try to wake her up again after that.

His hand falls and he rolls on to his back completely again, staring at the ceiling. Damn. So this was it? Are they really never going to recover from this? There’s no way, right? So why was he feeling so much anxiety? Why was he so terrified?

A tear slips from his eye down the side of his face. Then another. And then another. One by one, salty droplets force themselves out of his eye sockets until he is full on crying. Why is he even crying? He doesn’t know. He just knows that he fucked up and he’s not sure if she’ll forgive him so easily this time.

His brain was working full time filling his head with desolate thoughts about his future with her. He remembers every fight, every mistake, every tear she’s ever shed because of him. Why was she even still with him? He wasn’t a good boyfriend. He never was. Will he ever be? Can he-

“Hobie?”

Unbeknownst to him, his sobbing had woken her up, filling her with worry as soon as she saw his chest shaking. She immediately caressed his face and when she did, as if it was instinct, he turned and embraced her tighter than ever. His crying got louder, his body violently jerking with each sob. She was distraught. This complete and utter dejection was not something she had seen on him before. It was breaking her heart. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he wailed into her shoulder. He couldn’t seem to keep still, to just hold her in his arms. No matter how tightly he wrapped himself around her, she was still to far away. His hands were ever changing and would grab her waist moving across it in an effort to bring her closer to him. “I’m so sorry.”

She relaxed but only a little. “Aw, baby,” she wipes the tears from his face with her thumb. It was contorted in pain. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I’m not upset with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

She shakes her head. “Babe, it’s okay. I promise-“

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

She furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about baby?”

What is he talking about? He wasn’t even sure himself. But he knew that he wasn’t happy right now. He continued to cry, his eyes closed and his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for trying to change you.”

Okay…what? With everything he said, she only got more and more confused. When was he trying to change her? Was it because of what he said? Does he understand why she was even upset about that? “What do you mean? What do you want me to be?”

He took a deep breath and wailed, “My wife.” A long series of sobs escaped him after that.

“I’m going to marry you. You don’t have to be sad.” She said, still not understanding why he was so upset.

He shook his head. She started to let go of his face. “I’m trying to turn you into someone you’re not. That’s why we fight all the time. And I’m sorry.”

She lets go of him and he lets her sit up from the bed and look down at him. They don’t break eye contact for a minute. He looks into her eyes, still crying, but not as violently. She’s terrified. She’s always been smart. She knows exactly what he’s saying. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Yes.”

Her world falls apart. She gasped horrifically, sliding off the bed and standing up to stare at him. Her mouth doesn’t close and now it’s her turn to cry violently. “What?”

“I’m sorry. It’s time.”

“Why? What did I do? What did I do?” She became beside herself. She clutched her shirt as there was nothing she could do that could help with the pain she was feeling.

“You didn’t do anything. It’s not you. I just-” he sat up and on the edge of the bed cutting himself off from trying to explain what he was thinking. But of course, he wasn’t thinking at all, was he? At least not rationally. “I need to really think about what I want out of life.”

Hobie, no. Why are you telling her these things? You want her. She wants you. So fucking make it work. But there isn’t a logical voice in his head and she’s too upset to be a voice of reason as well. So now they’re stuck.

She fell to the ground, collapsed, more like. She cries and heaves into the floor while he just looks at her. Like he always does. He should get up and comfort her the way she comforted him but he doesn’t. Does she even want him to touch her right now?

She looks up at him and desperately pleads, “Please don’t do this to me.” She holds her chest. “I love you so much…”

Yes. She wants him to walk over to her and hold her. But he doesn't. “I love you too, but-”

“Then tell me to lay back down and go to sleep.” He had never heard her beg like this in the 2 1/2 years they had been dating. It was breaking him. But instead, he stood up and opened his bedroom door. She gasped again. “Why are you doing this?”

Hobie grows frustrated with himself, but from the way he starts crying even harder and the angry look he had on his face, it comes off as him being frustrated with her. He grabs his head and repeatedly slams his hand on it as if he’s trying to get his brain to work. “Because,” he spat, “There’s a question in my head and I need to find the answer.”

“And this is the answer?” She asks. “Breaking up with me?”

Hobie doesn’t answer her. He doesn’t know. But, it’s the only answer he has. She breaks down again and hunches over. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“I know,” he said.

Hobie…what the actual fuck are you saying? How could he tell her that? He loves this girl so much and she’s looking at him like she doesn’t recognize him. He’s betrayed her. He’s certain they will never come back from this. Ever.

It takes her some time, but she stands up on her own, still in shock and disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as she gathers all of her things and walks past him. He follows her out his bedroom door, down the hallway, through the kitchen, through the living room, and finally at the front door.

“When did you stop loving me?” She asked him before he opened the door.

“I haven’t stopped loving you,” he tried to explain.

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

“I don’t know.” He muttered.

Befuddled, she glared at him. “You don’t know? What the fuck does that mean?”

Hobie, again, angry with himself but taking it out on her shouts, “This is about me finding the person I want to marry.”

No. No, no, no, no, NO! Why, Hobie? Why? He didn’t mean that. That’s not what he wanted to say. And he regrets it the moment he says it. She gasped and held her mouth. Then she becomes furious. Hobie’s face jerks to the left and he holds his stinging cheek. He looks back at her, the both of them still crying.

“I fucking hate you.” With that, she walks away.

Hobie stands there for a few moments, trying to understand how everything went so bad in such a small amount of time. Trying to understand why he still wasn’t happy; why he was even more upset than before. That question was still there. He hadn’t answered it. What has he done?

Not long after she left, Hobie grabs his keys and leaves the apartment as well. At first, he doesn’t know where he’s walking. He just doesn’t want to be home right now. He only had his keys and his phone, which died when they got back home. He walked through Brooklyn like a ghost, people moving themselves out of his way and going right back to their own lives.

It felt so surreal that the worst decision he’s ever made in his life was just some odd minutes ago. His entire world was destroyed and he was the one at fault. How could he do this to her? To himself? What was he thinking?

After some time, he stops in front of a townhouse door. These were a lot nicer than his own apartment building, bigger too. They were basically glorified flats, anyway. Fit for a family.

He knocked. The door opened and he came face to face with a close friend of his, Miles Morales. They’ve been inseparable ever since they were kids but in recent years, they’ve grown apart. Hobie was older and had more responsibilities than him while Miles…

Yes, he was younger, but it was only by a few years. He never really seemed to grow. Of course he got taller, added a little more muscle, and he gained a deeper voice, but he was still immature. Hobie didn’t have the energy for that like he used to.

But, Miles was one of his best friends and he didn’t know anyone else who always has their door open.

“ ‘Sup, bruh?” He said, nonchalantly. He walks away and waits by an open door that led downstairs. Hobie takes it as an invitation and walks inside, closing the front door behind him. He follows Miles down the steps to his basement which is basically just a second living room. There was an old couch and a large TV which housed the waiting screen for Overwatch. Of course. Miles was always playing Overwatch.

Miles sits on the couch and looks back at Hobie who was clearly downtrodden. He furrows his brows. “What happened?”

Hobie doesn’t look up from the floor. In a quiet voice he says, “I broke up with Y/N.”

ending a/n: Girl I almost didn't want to proofread this that shit hurted. Just so y’all can rly get the gist abt how strong shrooms are, the dosage you should be taking is 2 grams. Also, lemon tekking (dousing the shrooms in lemon juice) will make it stronger. So 7 grams on top of lemon tekking will fuck you up badly. Don’t do this. Please.

Anywayyyyy, be on the look out for part two, I'm thinking about making this 3 parts depending on how long the second part is. Please let me know what you think! Did it hurt? IT BETTER!

Part 2 Part 3

My AO3

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #hobie brown #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x black! fem! reader #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x black!reader #black reader #Hobie brown x black reader #spider punk x black reader

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rainebelowzero · 1 year ago

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hiii again 🦈💙 saw that you need a request so here am i with a request (˶ｰ̀֊ｰ́ ) could you do Kurt Kunkle x male reader where m/n fingering Kurt as m/n doing his works and Kurt keep begging m/n to cum but m/n told him to not cum yet. the rest of this story, you can just play with it or you just finish it here lolololol ʅ(๑ ᷄ω ᷅ )ʃ

sorry if there's some words that i spell is uncorrect !1!1!1! anyways have a good day/night!! love you🦈💙.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

-anon🦈

I kinda did one similar to this already, but I love writing about stuff like this so I'm gonna do it again, I AM SOOOO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG 😭😭 this is a little short and it might be kinda rushed

also thanks! 😁

cws: edging, fingering, the reader trying to multitask (I could never)

You were originally working on some extra stuff your boss wanted you to do, but Kurt dropped in after he was done streaming (which you begged him to do in the other room because he was being super loud).

He could only sit still for about half an hour before he turned his attention from his phone to you. You could feel his gaze on your back, and you turned around. Seeing the look on his face, you knew you weren't going to get anything done.

He squirms, now on your lap with your fingers buried inside of him. It's difficult to do your work with one hand, but you've always been a decent multitasker. Your hand focused on Kurt moves slowly as he keeps his face buried in your neck. He groans, and you can feel him clench around your fingers.

He rocks back and forth on your lap, trying to get you as deep as possible inside of him. Lube drips down your hand and you curl your fingers inside him. He starts to move faster, and you pull your fingers out just before he cums, earning a disappointed huff. He knows exactly what you're doing, and he gives in immediately.

"Please…please let me cum. I'm so close.." He pleads quietly.

"Just let me finish this work and then you can cum, okay?" You respond.

He nods, and when you slip your fingers back into him, not moving while you finish up the last few things you have left. You occasionally thrust your fingers into him, making him let out short, breathy moans. His hips start to rock against you just as you finish working, so you place your other hand on him, guiding his hips as you move your fingers faster inside him.

"Fuck..fuck-" He groans.

Kurt whimpers, his eyes squeeze shut and his cock twitches, cumming against the two of your clothes. His thighs squeeze against your legs before going limp, breathing heavily.

#kurt kunkle x male reader #kurt kunkle x reader #dom male reader #technically this could count as gn reader too so #dom gn reader

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gabichanwrites · 1 year ago

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As someone who has no strong feelings toward Izzy, I still didn't want him to die and was certain Izzy wasn't going to die because despite all the things I disliked about what they did to certain characters and plots in the second season, I thought it didn't fit the show to have a central character (or basically anyone who isn't a minor character) die. It didn't fit anything it had set for itself in the previous season to kill off one of their main characters even if it WAS for a meaningful reason (which it wasn't). And yet they did it anyway, and like I thought, it was an awful decision.

Yeah, man, exactly that!

I may be quite biased because I literally loved Izzy since I first saw and heard him, all the quips, all the potential of redemption... And, you know, I've got a spot for "pathetic, wet cat" characters. As in I want to give him a towel, feed him something nice and treasure each moment he stops hissing at me.

And even with all the love I hold for Izzy, I don't think I'm not objective when I say it's a shit narrative choice and it's a death that doesn't do anything. It wouldn't serve well any of the characters in the show in fact.

Especially with the way the show handled 1 season, with the softness and historical inaccuracies in how open everyone is to the new stuff - man, people loved it. I loved it. I trusted the writers so fully that not for a moment did I think they would actually kill off anyone, not even for a moment did I believe that Lucius would die. And this was this kind of show about pirates, this was why people liked it so much, at least partially.

And now this finale... Even if we ignore how much Izzy doesn't deserve it, it's just a bad way to go. It's a generic shot in a generic setting, with the character doing absolutely nothing special, not protecting anyone, not running away, just standing there. It's like killing Pete so Lucius will realize that pirating is dangerous and bad and he should stay on land. It's like killing Jim to make Oluwande realize that this isn't safe and... I don't know, go to Zheng. Honestly, I have a hard time coming up with similar nonsense because it just... Doesn't make sense. The writer in me recoils at the sound of so much unnecessary death and cut potential for the sake of... What exactly?

. This kind of death breaks the theme we got used to seeing and it takes away our belief that we can freely enjoy the shenanigans without worrying. A feeling I just got familiar with when the curse and Calypso's birthday happened. This kind of death takes away character in a cruel, pointless way and reduces them back to side characters, there to make way for the main couple. And I like Ed and Stede well enough but COME ON.

So yeah, in short, I fully agree anon. But you probably knew that if you took a look at my Tumblr in the last few hours. I'm gonna stop here though because it's very late for me and I am several hours behind on getting some sleep. Thank you for the ask though, I feel like this finale deeply affected even those who aren't that obssesed with Izzy and, to be honest, it's our first warning sign - writers don't mind pointless killing anymore.

Or maybe it's the saving grace - the bad reception will make them unlikely to do anything equally rush and stupid in the future.

#izzy hands #ofmd #ask

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jimxnslight · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1: So High [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: I swear I spent like a month researching to make sure everything is as accurate as possible, but if you’re more experienced in this topic and see some inaccuracies don’t hesitate to let me know. Also, if you are under 18: do. not. read. I am watching you younglings.

<< masterlist || next chapter >>

Just one step at a time Y/N, you're almost there.

You groaned inwardly as you continued to drag your feet along the concrete sidewalk, every bone in your body weighing you down like a heavy truck. Your muscles screamed at you to turn around and burrow back into your bed and even your mind was having trouble focusing. Overall, nothing but pure willpower was pushing you through the empty park, but you had to keep moving if you wanted these feelings to stop.

So you pushed on.

Ironically, the atmosphere was a perfect reflection of your mood. Despite how early it was in the morning, there was no prospect of the usual sunlight. Instead, grey clouds and an oddly comfortable hum caused by rainy drizzle surrounded you as you continued. It only made your muscles more languid and you almost caught yourself falling asleep mid-step several times.

Thankfully, after what felt like hours, your gaze caught onto a lone figure on the other side of the park, rocking against one of the swings quietly. Besides him, the area was largely deserted, probably because of how early it was in the morning. Soon it would be filled with students and parents rushing to their schools and jobs.

You'd be one of them, but for now, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Yoongi," you greeted idly once you walked up to him.

Yoongi, who had been staring at the sand below him, looked up at you with a scowl. His black hair was pulled into a half bun while it looked like he had gotten his hair trimmed. Today, he was dressed in an expensive looking black rain jacket that stopped at his knees paired with black combat boots. His silver cross earring seemed unusually dull in the rainy weather.

"It's Suga when we're doing business," he corrected, pushing himself off the swing while eyeing the security cameras wearily. They weren't working at the moment, due to some renovations or something like that, so you didn't really understand the paranoia.

You tilted your head lazily at his statement, "it's always business with us."

"Exactly," he frowned, shaking his head in regret, "if it wasn't for- well, you know- you wouldn't have even figured out my actual name, which is already annoying. So no need to rub it in."

"Nope, I worked too hard to get that name just to never use it," you smirked, trying to keep your voice light, but on the inside you were itching to grab what you came for, "so... do you have it?"

Yoongi's hand disappeared into his jacket's pocket and returned with a small white bottle just barely the size of your thumb. Why was it so small?

"What the hell is that?"

Despite your words, it took everything in you not to snatch up the bottle like some savage, but your pleasantries only went so far. The second the bottle was in your hand you didn't bother waiting for him to leave before you opened it and downed three pills on the spot.

He frowned in response, "I'm low on stock right now."

It was always so typical of him to have such short and concise responses, and although you hated it, it was pretty helpful for when you were going through withdrawals. It was easier for your foggy mind to understand short sentences rather than a bunch of details. But you were going to need the details in this case. Yoongi hadn't been low on stock in a long time, which means something must have happened.

At your expression Yoongi sighed.

"Look, I think someone tipped the police off about me so I'm laying low for a while. In fact, the only reason I'm even doing business with you right now is because you're my least problematic client, which I appreciate... and also because I know withdrawal can be a real pain."

You hummed in response, barely paying attention. The pills you just took weren't going to kick in for another 10-20 minutes, so most of what Yoongi was saying was flying through one ear and out the other.

"Anyways," he sighed, likely noticing your current state, "I'll get the payment after I get the cops off my back."

He hesitated before his next words but ultimately mumbled, "take care of yourself."

You lazily watched as he made his way into a flashy red car and drove off before you realised you should probably get going as well.

By the time you reached your school, you felt your focus sharpen as the Adderall you had taken earlier finally started kicking in. The black jacket you had been wearing, to hide your uniform from Yoongi of course, was hanging against your arm as you made your way into the school towards your classroom.

Since you were a little early, the class wasn't entirely full just yet. Students were still milling around, laughing and chatting about things you couldn't care less about. It wasn't until you sat down in your seat when you noticed that your best, and only, friend was already in the classroom.

Kim Namjoon, with his dark brown hair and dimpled cheeks, gave you a stern look as he noticed your presence.

"You didn't answer my call yesterday," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

That made you snort, "when do I ever answer your calls for school related stuff?"

"Because you're too busy crashing from all the drugs you take throughout the day?"

It was his tone more than his words that made you turn towards him with a frown. Namjoon has always bothered you about your... recreational activities, that's no surprise. But there was something about the rare harshness in his voice this time that had you taken aback.

"I'm fine Namjoon, chill out."

But Namjoon seemed unusually persistent today and only his next words gave some insight as to why, "you know there was a death in my apartment yesterday? A guy overdosed on a ton of cocaine and died, Y/N, because he was doing the exact same thing you do."

You shifted uncomfortably to mask your uneasiness.

"I don't do coke," you joked, but Namjoon's face didn't waver.

"So? Whether it’s Adderall or meth, the result is still the same,” he pressed further, "you know he was completely alone when it happened? And when his family came to the funeral, they barely even cared. Most of them said they hadn't seen him in years."

You scoffed, "Well, I definitely won't have that problem."

His expression softened, "there are people that still care about you, Y/N, but if you continue on the path you're on right now, I can't guarantee that. I don't want you to be like him. I don't want you to end up alone with nothing but a drug addiction."

You could hear the fear in his voice at that last sentence.

"I don't have an addiction, Namjoon, relax," you said as you heard the bell ring. All around you, students rushed to their seats in preparation for the class, "I could stop if I wanted to, you're just being paranoid."

He seemed disappointed at your response, even a little angry.

"You're high right now aren't you?" He whispered.

“When am I not?"

"That's not funny, Y/N."

"It's a little funny."

Namjoon's hand grabbed your arm in frustration as his voice lowered, "this isn't a joke, Y/N. If you're not going to take this seriously then I'll have to do things you're not going to like."

You scoffed at the threat, "like what? Tell everyone about it? How would you even convince them? I'm a straight A student that's respectful to all the teachers. Who would even believe you?"

"A simple drug test can change all that," he snapped back.

Your eyebrow raised, "so you'd report me to the police?"

Namjoon's frustrated face morphed into shame as he looked away quickly. The two of you had been friends ever since you and your father moved here when you were 7 years old. He was practically your brother at this point. When he found out about your using around a year ago, he had been furious, but every time he tried, he just couldn't report you. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to have a criminal record, or maybe it was because he didn't want to hurt you, either way he's been ashamed about the lack of action ever since.

Namjoon watched the teacher walk into the class with a mixture of guilt and anguish.

"I should... If I really cared about you I would've reported you the first time I found out. Maybe it wouldn't have become so bad if I did..."

You quietly watched as the students started getting out their textbooks and homework. Namjoon's words, despite not being anything new, should've moved you. You should've felt a need to change, or to do better.

But you didn't feel any of that. Even hearing about that man, that might even be foreshadowing to your future, didn't instill any fear into your heart. In fact, the prospect of that being your future didn't shake you.

Honestly, you felt nothing at all.

The sound of the bell ending first period had never felt more relieving as you finally felt Namjoon’s gaze, which had been drilling into the side of your head the entire time, shift. Thankfully, he wasn’t in your second period class so you’d finally get a break from his constant worry.

That allowed you to make your way to your second classroom quietly before settling down in your usual seat that was near the back of the class. You were even going to quietly rest your head on your desk for a moment, but the sound of three girls shuffling towards you made you realise that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

It was always comical how fast she approached you the second Namjoon was out of the picture.

"Y/N!"

You groaned, preparing yourself for what you knew was going to be one of the worst five minutes of your life.

Kim Jiwoo smirked as she peered down at you, two girls, whose names you didn't even know, at her side. Today she had tied her long brown hair into a half ponytail, letting her side bangs frame her face. Most would call her pretty, but you knew better than to flatter a snake.

"Did you sleep in a barn last night?" She laughed, tugging at a strand of your hair, "it looks like a rat’s nest."

The two at her side laughed as she gasped.

"Wait, who am I kidding," she continued, " your father couldn't afford a barn. Where then? The side of a highway?"

Another round of her friends' laughs filled the room annoyingly.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be insecure, Jiwoo?" You grumbled tiredly.

She simply scoffed, "what do I have to be insecure about? Your face is all the self-love I need. Everyday I wake up and am thankful my parents didn't give birth to one like yours."

That made you smile, "speaking of parents, how is your parents' divorce going? I heard your dad was found sleeping with the maid after church, again. Personally I think you take after him the most."

The two girls' eyes widened in surprise as they side-eyed a seething Jiwoo. At this point, the whole class had gone quiet, listening intently to the two of you.

For a moment, a very dumb moment, you thought she'd leave it at that and make an embarrassing exit.

But you were never a very lucky one, were you?

"My parents' divorce is going great, thanks for asking," she said suddenly, a snake-like grin on her face, "I'm just glad both of them are still alive."

You tensed as you felt her close the space between the two of you, "how are your parents, Y/N?"

As unaffected as you were trying to appear, it took a lot of self-control not to throw a chair at her face.

But Jiwoo wasn't done just yet.

"Oh my!" She gasped, hands flying to her lips, "I completely forgot! You don't have both of your parents, do you?"

You could feel her breath as she chuckled, but the smile dropped from her face as she came closer, "What's wrong, Y/N? Mother couldn't survive a little chemo?"

Distantly you heard some students gasp, while others laughed. It didn't matter, because none of them could stop you when you brought up your fist and slammed it into her face.

Anyone that says violence will never be fulfilling is a liar. Watching Jiwoo crumple to the ground was all the therapy you needed.

Unfortunately, that only made her laugh more.

"You know, if you kill yourself, maybe you can meet mommy in hell," she laughed, wiping the small trickle of blood from her mouth.

You just scoffed, hiding the second wave of anger by sitting back in your seat, "and see you there too? No thanks."

As Jiwoo stood, the door of the classroom opened, causing everyone's head to snap towards it. The girls swooned as Mr. Kim walked in with light steps. His gaze first fell on Jiwoo, who was standing over you, and then your seated form.

"Is there a problem here?"

No one answered, either too afraid for reprimand or too immersed in checking him out. Mr. Kim Seokjin was the youngest teacher in the school, not to mention the most attractive according to the female students. Forget the girls, you were pretty sure you've even caught some of the guys talking about how hot he is.

When no one answered he raised an eyebrow. It was clear he knew something had happened here, something that shouldn't have happened. But after a moment, he must have decided to let it go because he turned around and started writing on the board.

"Please go back to your seats everyone and turn to page 237."

You watched as everyone scrambled to their desks, except for Jiwoo of course, who gave you a condescending smile first. That was the one thing you could respect about her, she knew how to take a punch without being a whiny baby about it. The two of you had been at each other's throats for as long as you could remember. The rivalry between you was always so excessively vicious because you were cousins, meaning you knew a lot more about each other's familial secrets compared to the other students. In fact, now that you think about it, you probably exposed her parents' divorce to the class. But you'll take it as payback for yesterday, when she tripped you in the hallways and almost broke your head against one of the lockers.

Mr. Kim continued to speak about the lesson, which you were completely focused on thanks to the pills you had taken this morning.

Well, that was until you heard distracting whispers behind you.

"Who's that?" A male voice whispered, seemingly to someone beside him.

Another voice answered in the same manner, "oh yeah, you just transferred from class A, right? You don't know about the drama here. Those two have been at each other's throats since forever."

The first voice chuckled, "I don't care about that. Who is she?"

"Um," the second voice paused, as if confused, "you mean her? That's Kim Y/N... why? What's up?"

"She's got a hot back," the first voice said.

You scowled as you turned around to face the voices, "this 'hot back' can hear you, you know."

You were met with two guys sitting next to each other. The first had permed dirty blonde hair, a boxy grin and intimidating eyes. You already knew him to be Taehyung. Although you'd never really held a full conversation with him, you knew he'd been in your class for a while.

But the one sitting next to him wasn't as familiar, though you knew you've seen him in the halls before. His hair was a bright orange that oddly suited him, while his cheeks were soft yet structured.

He was attractive, there was no denying it. But there was also no denying that he was the one commenting on your 'hot back' too, which you did not appreciate.

"Oh I know," he replied coolly, "is admiration suddenly a crime?"

"Go admire someone else's back, thanks," you said, turning back to the lesson being taught.

But the whispers only continued.

"Such a pretty face too," the orange haired guy said, and you could almost see him smirking.

You saw exactly that when you turned around once again, but this time towards Taehyung, "could you put your friend on a leash?"

Taehyung, who actually seemed confused, just shrugged.

"I'm Park Jimin," the orange haired guy announced, "what's your name, kitten?"

It took everything in you not to cringe at the nickname and instead turn back towards the front of the class, "not interested."

As you watched Mr. Kim turn towards the board to write something down, the sound of a pencil falling to the ground followed. You were sure Jimin threw one at you to get your attention, like some middle schooler might you add, but you were determined to ignore him, keeping your focus on the board. You could hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, a slight chuckle and even light footsteps.

But a moment later you felt your back start to warm up. At first you thought maybe the classroom's heating had turned up, but then you swivelled around to come face to face with Park Jimin. His chest was so close to your back, all he had to do was move just an inch forward and he'd be pressed against it.

With Mr. Kim still writing something on the board, Jimin went completely unnoticed aside from one or two curious students.

But that didn't deter him at all.

"There's going to be a party tonight at Taehyung's place," Jimin whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you should come. I'm sure you'll have a good time."

Just as his head lifted away from yours, Mr. Kim turned around.

"Jimin, what are you doing out of your seat?" He asked, crossing his arms.

Jimin raised a pencil in response, and with a start, you realised it was your pencil that had been sitting on your desk a few seconds earlier, "sorry, I just dropped my pencil."

Mr. Kim nodded and went back to teaching the lesson while you heard Jimin take his seat once again, still feeling the ghost of his lips near your ear.

For the record, it wasn't Park Jimin that had you driving to Taehyung's house at 10 PM on a Friday night. You had known about the party before he had 'invited' you and had already been planning to go. Of course, most students were attending for some partying.

And although partying sounded good, you had other intentions in mind.

Your car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from Taehyung's house before you got out and started walking along the dark sidewalk. You could already hear the music and sounds of chatter from your current position, but you doubt anyone in the neighbourhood would complain about it. Taehyung's parents were the definition of rich, and messing with people like that was never a very smart option. The best they could do was pop in some ear plugs and wait the party out.

"Y/N?!" A familiar voice behind you called out.

Speaking of ear plugs...

You tried to fasten your pace, but Jiwoo was already in step beside you. There seemed to be no sign of the girls from earlier this time.

"Where are your goons?"

Her reply was quick.

"Where's your sobriety?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to walk in silence. To your distaste, she didn't leave after that.

"Thanks a lot for advertising the divorce. You know how hard it was to keep something like that on the down low?" She scoffed, actually looking quite annoyed.

You raised an eyebrow, "you're really going to act like that after the chemo comment?"

"You started it. Don't act like some victim now."

It was your turn to scoff now, "you started it like 5 years ago."

"It was 7 years actually."

"Aww, do you have a calendar you use to mark our fights too? I'm straight, before you get any ideas."

"Oh screw off, Y/N."

Thankfully, there was a beat of silence after that. You cursed yourself for parking so far away from the house, but it was usually useful for when the police were called and they started impounding cars. At this point, you'd rather take the police than Jiwoo's presence.

After a moment Jiwoo spoke up again, "I saw you with Jimin in second period."

She grinned.

"A manwhore and a junkie... it's a match made in heaven."

You almost celebrated when Taehyung's house finally came into view. Without even bothering to look in Jiwoo's direction, you scurried into the house, but not before hearing her cackle like some kind of witch.

You genuinely feel bad for whoever decides to curse their life by marrying her. Maybe she'll do everyone a favour and stay single forever, though you doubt she'd be that gracious.

Even though it was relatively early for the party, the living room was packed with people. Students you recognized from school were chatting and laughing together while others played games and took shots. You were pretty sure you even caught one or two college kids here and there too.

As you scanned the room, your eyes were naturally drawn to a head of bright orange hair sitting on one of the couches lazily as a girl sat on his lap with a smile. Jimin looked good, with a simple white t-shirt and ripped jeans. A silver earring, similar to Yoongi's, hung from one of his ears.

For a second, you thought his eyes caught yours, but you turned away and started walking towards the kitchen before you could confirm. It didn't matter anyway, you weren't here for him.

The sight of alcohol had you smiling.

You were here for this.

You grabbed a cup and filled it with beer from one of the tanks sitting on the counter. There were a few empty bottles of vodka and even wine sprawled around, implying that if you looked hard enough you might be able to snag a bottle. But you weren't very keen on getting too hammered tonight.

While deep in thought, you didn't notice Jimin slip in front of you until he started talking.

"Having fun?" He asked, a red plastic cup filled with a clear substance already in his hand. His hair was dishevelled and messy, like someone had run their hands through it many times, and a silver necklace shaped like an upside down spade hung from his neck.

The necklace forced you to look down at his loose sleeveless white shirt, which did a poor job at hiding his toned figure. The muscles in his arm were flexed as they held the cup, making it hard to focus on the one in your own hand. You turned towards the kitchen's counter, trying to shift your mind to something else.

But Jimin seemed to notice that, making him smirk.

"Like what you see?" He asked innocently as he slowly made his way towards you. When he finally came to a stop, he was so close you could feel the heat of his chest on your arm while his hand rested on the countertop right in front of you, "you don't have to look away, kitten. I don't mind giving it to you if you want it."

Your sharp gaze met his eyes once again, which were also a lot closer than you had initially thought. With his chest near your arm, his hot breath against your ear and his ruffled hair, you didn't blame yourself when you felt a hesitant shiver run down your spine.

Park Jimin was a jerk, but god was he a hot jerk.

But was this something you wanted? Although you weren't exactly opposed to the idea, you didn't exactly want it either. It had been a long time since you last had sex, and the thought of doing it again with someone like Jimin, aka someone with a lot of recent experience, was kind of nerve wracking. You'd rather just get high.

"Believe it or not, I didn't come to this party because of you," you said finally.

"Oh?" His gaze lingered on your lips before raising back to your eyes, "then why are you here?"

For the free alcohol, and hopefully free drugs, would've been your honest answer.

"Why does anyone attend parties? To have some fun of course."

Jimin regarded you for a moment before replying, "there are different types of fun at parties. Which one are you here for?"

You shrugged, "not the type you're interested in."

With that, you filled your cup to the top before walking out of the room, eyes peeled for a dealer. Your talk with Jimin had heightened your desire for some fun, which for you was to feel nothing at all. All you had to do was find a dealer that would be willing to give you a sample.

Thankfully, with your experience, finding someone was no problem. In less than 10 minutes you had found and flagged down a man that seemed much too old to be at a high school party. You chuckled inwardly at the sudden thought of 'cheating' on Yoongi with another dealer, but Yoongi wasn't always available, especially now that the police were on his back.

After getting the dealer to trust that you weren't a cop, which was stupid considering your age, he eyed you with a more comfortable stare.

"Okay, what do you need?" He asked patiently.

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. You already had gotten some Adderall from Yoongi earlier today, and you were craving something a little stronger. But you were in the mood of something relaxing, not stimulating.

Then the thought of heroin popped into your mind. You were always careful when it came to opioids since they're insanely addictive, but the last time you had some was a pretty long time ago. You were sure the gap was long enough for it to be safe to take it again. Besides, the feeling it gave was always amazing, like every cell in your body was relaxed and calm.

You'd like that at the moment, and you told him just that.

He excused himself for a second, rushing into a room before returning again with a bag of fine white powder. He held it out to you discretely, but not before announcing the price.

"I want a sample first," you said, but the man shook his head.

"Sorry, no samples."

That made you scoff, "What? How am I supposed to know if it's good or not? Besides this is heroin I'm talking about, not weed."

"Either give me the money and take it or don't. I don't do samples."

"No thanks, I'll look somewhere else."

You turned and started making your way away from him, feeling a bit irritated, but not very angry. You've never had an issue with finding samples at a party. You just seemed to have picked the wrong guy.

But soon enough, after dealing with multiple dealers that refused, you huffed in frustration.

"What is up today with you guys? Why is everyone suddenly so against samples?" You rambled to one of them. He just gave you a tired look.

"Supply has been low lately. I've heard that the police are closing in on some of our harbour guys- uh, major suppliers, if you don't understand. A lot of them have had to lay low because of it, meaning guys like us aren't getting a lot of supply lately. We can't afford to give out samples right now."

So Yoongi wasn't the only one in a tight spot at the moment. Turns out a lot of dealers are suffering right now. That almost made you groan out loud.

"So that's a hard no to the sample?" You said, causing the guy to raise an eyebrow.

"Just pay up, don't be cheap," he said with crossed arms.

"It's a party. Obviously, I didn't bring any money with me, I've never needed it."

The guy just shook his head and walked away, leaving you alone and needy.

No samples. No dealers. You couldn't contact Yoongi at the moment either, which meant drugs were now out of the question. So much for having fun.

You downed your cup of beer, though you knew the most it would do was leave you buzzed. You could always start searching for the vodka you had seen earlier, but your dad was coming back tomorrow and you didn't want to be dealing with a killer hangover when meeting him.

While your mind did back flips trying to figure out a way to salvage the night, your gaze caught Jimin at the other side of the room. He was laughing with a girl, rarely taking a sip from his cup as he listened to the girl talk about things you couldn't hear.

You've heard a lot of people say that taking heroin feels like having 1000 orgasms at once. Obviously, there was nothing else that could achieve such a feeling.

But there was definitely something that came close.

As if hearing your thoughts, Jimin's eyes, which had been scanning the room nonchalantly, fell on your figure. When you didn't look away, he tilted his head, almost like he was asking a question.

Your gaze flickered to the staircase before landing back on him. Hoping he'd get the hint, you started making your way up them, not waiting to see if he was following.

Asking for sex was one thing you would not grant Park Jimin. If he wanted it, he was going to have to be smart enough to get it.

After checking in on a few rooms, you finally entered one that wasn't occupied with a moaning mess of bodies. It was luxurious, with a king sized bed wrapped in comfy looking sheets, a fluffy carpet coating most of the floor and a mini chandelier hanging overhead.

It made you wonder what the hell Taehyung's parents did for a living.

Before you could ponder any further, the sound of the room’s door opening and then closing quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, which was then followed by the sound of light footsteps treading carefully on the wooden floor.

When the footsteps softened because of the carpet, you turned around to find Jimin standing barely a foot away from you, his gaze focused on your still form. Now that the prospect of sex was a lot more likely, you let yourself properly enjoy the sight of him. Your eyes first started with his body, taking in the toned muscles that peaked through his white shirt and then his thick thighs that were exposed through his ripped jeans.

"It looks like you've changed your mind," he said, taking a step closer, causing you to take a step back.

But Jimin simply took another step forward until you could feel the cold wall press into your back. One of his hands leaned against the wall behind your head while the other leaned against the wall beside your stomach, caging you in the process. It forced you to focus on his face now, rather than his body. His orange hair was still dishevelled, framing his face perfectly. Despite the softness of his cheeks, his jawline was sharp, along with his eyes and nose. With how close he was, you could see every dip and pore in his face, yet somehow you couldn't find a single flaw on his skin.

His eyes scanned your own body and face the same way you had barely a second ago, pupils dilating in desire.

"Can I touch you, kitten?"

Ignoring the nickname, your gaze travelled down to his lips, which looked so soft and plump. You wanted to know how they would feel on your skin, especially on your own lips.

You nodded slowly before breathing out your answer, "yes."

Jimin wasted no time pulling you closer towards him. He let his hands run down your arms and rest at your waist as his eyes flickered between your lips and neck, as if conflicted as to which one to start with.

As he pulled your waist against him, his lips started on your neck, leaving behind light kisses that gradually became more and more heated. His hand rubbed circles against your hip, in an oddly reassuring manner, while his lips started to lower to your collarbone.

Your breathing started to intensify as Jimin left open mouthed kisses against your neck and jaw.

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," he breathed against your neck. A new set of pleasuring shivers travelled down your spine.

"Why's that?"

His hand, which had been resting on your hip, traveled upwards to cup your cheek, "I wasn't joking when I said you had a pretty face."

The hand cupping your cheek suddenly pulled you forward as Jimin connected your lips with his. They were so soft and plump as they moved against yours, causing your stomach to flutter in satisfaction. You never realised just how pleasurable making out was until today.

Jimin’s lips travelled back to your neck as he continued to drop heated kisses against your skin. You could still feel his hand rubbing circles into your hip while the other brushed against your cheek to hold your head steady.

Feeling a little hazy, your hand disappeared into your pocket to bring out the white bottle Yoongi had given you this morning. As Jimin continued to wreck your neck in the most pleasurable way possible, you opened the bottle behind his back and moved it to down a pill or two.

But the sound of its opening caused Jimin to look up until he eyed the bottle in your hand.

"Are those drugs?" He asked suddenly, pulling away from you slightly.

"No they're just Skittles," you replied sarcastically, moving the bottle towards your lips once again. But before you could pop even one pill, Jimin swiped the bottle out of your hand and chucked it into the trash can across the room.

"Wh- Hey! What the hell?!" You protested, but he gently pushed you back against the wall.

"No drugs in the bedroom."

Before you could scoff he closed the distance between the two of you once again, letting his lips brush against your ear, "you're in my bedroom, Y/N. That means you follow my rules."

As if to make a point, he brushed his fingers against the inside of your clothed thigh, pulling a heavy breath from your lips.

Your irritation soon morphed into pleasure as Jimin brought his lips to yours once again. One of his hands was still rubbing circles against your hip, but the other had moved down to your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Why did you-” he paused at the sight of you as he pulled back for a moment. Swollen lips, messy hair, heavy pants… Jimin didn’t think he’d ever encountered someone hotter in his entire life.

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice the pause, “why’d you change your mind?”

You took him in for a moment. His rust-coloured hair was dishevelled, with a few strands falling onto his forehead, while his plush lips separated to accommodate his heavy breaths.

You shrugged.

“I wanted to try a different kind of fun,”

“Fun?” He repeated with a grin.

You felt his hand circle your wrist before he guided you away from the wall. From this angle, you got to enjoy his back muscles peeking from his white shirt before he turned back to you.

“Clothes off. Get on the bed,” he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to a corner.

“I’ll show you what fun is, kitten.”

Next Chapter...

100 notes · View notes

angel-ixily · 1 year ago

Text

Two of the Same ~Part 1~

Pairing: Tim Drake//Red Robin: x gn!Reader

Pronouns: I/They/Them/Me

Fandom: DC Universe

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, use of langauge

A/N: I’ll be honest guys, this was all in a days worth of writing, so I can’t promise that it will be the best I’ve written, but with the lack of Tim fanfics on this app, I decided to write some of my own! I hope you enjoy these chapters, and please for the love of god write more Tim Drake fanfic stories 😭✋

Summary: Every night a masked vigilante comes into Y/N's bedroom, and to their knowledge, it's to "clean his wounds." But the visits go deeper than that when underneath that mask, unbeknownst to Y/N, it's their classmate, Tim Drake, who has a huge crush on them.

----

Two of the Same ~Part 2~

Two of the Same ~Part 3~

~~~~~~~~~~

My lips were pursed, and eyes squinting as I was finishing writing an essay about Oppenheimer’s Manhattan Project for AP US History.

It was supposed to be my classmate, Tim Drakes’, assignment, but with his focus on his adoptive fathers' company, Wayne Enterprises, he didn’t really have time for schoolwork anymore. And when he’d finally have time, he’d spend every class working to get them done, and stress about them.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided that I’d help him out with some of his classes; However, my focus wasn’t exactly pristine because I was waiting for a certain masked vigilante to pop up at my window within any second. So instead, I tapped at the paper with my pencil, and stared nervously at the fire escape outside of my window for the caped wonder.

He often came to my window at ungodly hours of night, bruised and bloody. Due to the amount of times he visited, I had a few packs of first aid kits stuffed in my closet.

My parents judged me the day I came back home from the drug store with 2 full bags of the kits, and I just shrugged it off and said, “It’s Gotham, you never know what’s gonna happen.” When in reality I had a young boy in my room every night that I decided to patch up.

But it was already 1 am, and he would have usually popped by already. Worried thoughts started to flood my brain, and I had hoped that he was alright. There had been very few nights that he hadn’t come, and those were the nights that he was badly injured, and needed more care than what a first aid kit could give him.

I was about to put down Tim’s assignment and go to bed when my window quickly slammed open. With a smile on my lips, and my heart quickening, I looked over to the window. Sliding in, and landing on his back on my floor with a painful groan, was the boy I’d been waiting for all night, Red Robin. The previous Robin.

My smile faded as I rushed to the boys' side, kneeling down and placing a hand on his back. He looked in worse shape than I had ever seen him before. His lip was busted, his suit was torn open with huge gashes of blood covering his chest from ginormous claw marks. He looked like shit.

“Are you okay?” I asked, analyzing his wounds. He nodded, groaning as he tried to lift himself to stand up. As soon as he put pressure on his right arm, he winced and fell back down.

“Never been better...” He mumbled, laying his head on the ground in defeat. He took deep breaths, and I watched as his chest fell up and down heavily. Thin streaks of blood starting to slide down from his suit and onto my carpet.

“Okay... let’s just… get you up.” I breathed out, wrapping my arms around his torso, and trying my best to lift up the heavy hero. I could feel his blood soak into my shirt, but that was the least of my worries right now. My main worry was that I was pressed right against his chest, and he was making sounds of pain at the harsh feeling of my shirt against his raw, and open wound. I muttered my apologies as I moved him. Though it seemed impossible, I lifted him up so that his back was against the wall under my window. I leaned back and immediately stood up.

“Stay right here.” I ordered him, going straight into my closet and reaching up on the top shelf for my first aid kit.

“Like I’d be able to move anyway.” He said from behind me. I jumped up and grabbed the kit, turned around, and gave him a look.

“You know what I meant.” I knelt back down next to him, looking down at his wounds again. There was no way that I’d be able to just put a band aid on it and he’d be fine. He needed something more urgent than me, but for some odd reason his first instinct was to come running to my apartment. That thought made my heart start racing, but I needed it to calm down in order to think clearly.

“Okay so I can’t exactly get a good glimpse at these gashes you have here... is it okay if I...” I blushed as I motioned at his top, trailing off with my sentence. He nodded.

“You can take it off.” He consented. I nodded, the blush still covering my cheeks as I opened the kit and pulled out a pair of scissors. I lifted the fabric where it got slashed open and began to cut it around his body. I made sure the cold scissors didn’t touch his skin so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. After cutting both sides, I backtracked to his front, and cut up the fabric till it hit his neck, and I put the scissors down. Carefully, and with blood-stained fingertips, I removed the fabric off of his arms.

Starting with the left, feeling the muscles in his arm tense as I moved downward. When I’d accidentally skim across his skin, I noticed that goosebumps would start to form. I felt his fingertips brush against mine as I got his sleeve off his hands. I then moved to the right arm. A huge purple swollen mark revealing as I pulled it down. The mark trailed to his forearm. He looked at it as he winced.

“That looks bad.” He sighed as he analyzed it.

“It looks like you broke it.” I confirmed as I lightly finished taking his sleeve off his arm. He nodded, and I reached back into the kit, searching for the clothed tape to wrap around his chest. As I stated before, I couldn’t exactly heal his wounds, but I could prevent it from getting worse. I didn’t want it getting infected or him bleed out.

Speaking of it getting infected, I reached around for the disinfectant sanitizer, keeping an eye on his chest.

It was nice and toned. Under the blood leaking down, I could see 6 pack abs. I cringed when I realized that I was mesmerized by him while he was under this condition.

“I’ll be right back. I need to get a rag with water to clean this up.” I spoke softly. He nodded.

“Just hurry back.” He begged. I stood up quickly, and swiftly ran into the bathroom, grabbing a rag off of the bathroom countertop stand, and wetting it with some warm water.

I stared into the mirror at my blood stained shirt, and my frizzy hair. I might have looked worse than the vigilante in my bedroom.

I squeezed the rag to make it damp as I turned off the water, and ran back into my room quietly, trying not to disrupt my parents while they were sleeping. I closed my bedroom door behind me, and I hurried back to the boy.

“Okay. Sorry about that. Let’s clean you up.” I started to dab at the wounds lightly, and he started to seethe in pain. I winced and stopped dabbing him. “Sorry. I should have warned you that it would sting.” He closed his eyes, exhaling a breath. After a second, he nodded, and gestured for me to continue.

“It’s okay. I trust that you don’t mean to hurt me.” He put a hand on my waist, squeezing it tightly. It would probably leave a mark, but I didn’t care. My mind was too clouded by the fact that he was so comfortable with touching me that every other thought didn’t matter. Also, the fact that he was dying on my floor. Well, I shouldn’t say dying. He’s not literally dying. He’s just getting there, ya know? And I couldn’t let the guy who I looked most forward to seeing every day, being in pain within my care.

“Who was it this time?” I asked, trying to make small talk in order for him to keep focus on something else.

“Killer Croc.” He laughed lowly. “Let’s just say he doesn’t like it when people accidentally break one of his nails. He’s kind of a drama queen.” I laughed.

“Okay but if we’re going to be honest, breaking nails do suck.” I looked up at him and into his eyes. He looked decently at peace right now for the pickle that he was in. I assumed that he had gotten used to the stinging from the rag, which was now covered in blood.

He had a dopey smile lying on his face, which oddly reminded me of the one that Tim sent me every so often when I'd pass him in the hallway, or when I’d make small talk with him in Chemistry before the bell rang. The two of you weren’t necessarily friends, but it was nice to see him when he'd show up to school. Wayne Enterprises kept him busy, so sometimes you wouldn't see him for days on end.

“What?” I asked Red Robin, glancing back down at his wound, as he continued to stare at me.

“You look so pretty when you’re keeping me from having a painful and very tragic death.” He sarcastically commented, lifting his hand that was once on my waist, and brushed a piece of hair out of my face. I blushed again and rolled my eyes.

“Well, it’s the least I could do. You do help save our city from the corrupt, and dangerous criminals out there on the streets. It’s time someone saved you.” I replied, placing the rag on his lap, and grabbing the disinfectant. He gave out an amused chuckle at my words, and I picked up the rag again, pumping the disinfectant on, and wiping his chest down with it before the blood came gushing back. I quickly grabbed the cloth wrap and started wrapping it around his chest.

“I’m so sorry if this hurts. Just tell me if it gets too tight.” I told him, starting to cover up his wound.

“Hah. Believe me. My suit is probably tighter than this would be.” He leaned forward so that I could get easier access to his back, which I found out had a few smaller cuts that I could easily patch up with a few Band-Aids.

“Well, I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.” I ran out of the wrapping cloth and looked around for something to keep the cloth around his chest. My aid kit didn’t come with tape to keep it together, so I had to look for the next best thing.

On the floor under my desk, I saw a safety pin, and I leaned into his chest, my palm holding the cloth in place so it wouldn’t come undone. The pin was farther away than I thought it was, so I leaned in further, catching it under my middle finger, and sliding it closer to me so I could grab it. Smiling, and facing his chest once again, I lifted my hand up softly, and clasped the pin on a few pieces of the cloth.

“You said that you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable.” He commented. I nodded as I focused on trying to clasp the safety pin together. “This may sound cheesy, but nothing you could ever do could make me uncomfortable. You’re the most comforting person I know.” I looked up at him through my lashes, lips pursed. He looked down at me with his lips slightly opened, and his eyes glancing at my own, and then my lips. I smiled, looking down at the safety pin as I clasped it together.

“This should keep that from getting any worse.” I put both of my hands over the bandages around his upper body. “Now all we should worry about is the lip and the arm. There’s not much I can do for your arm, but the lip…” I reached my hand up to hover over his busted lip. “The lip I can handle.” The blood on the lip had started to dry now, but I grabbed some small wipes off of the ground, and began to wipe at the blood, disinfecting it.

“So, what were you doing before I got here?” He asked, looking at the bed where I was sitting previously.

“Just doing some homework.” I switched sides of the wipe. “Well not my homework. It’s one of my classmates assignments for history. He’s been super stressed lately, and I noticed, so I’m helping him out.” I scoot closer to Red Robin, trying to get a more comfortable position.

“Is this classmate your boyfriend?” He asked. I scoff, amused, before a sweet smile came onto my lips.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend. Just a classmate. His name is Tim, and if I’m being honest, I don’t really know him all too well. I do know that he’s super smart, though. He seems pretty sweet, and very compassionate from what I’ve gathered from our conversations, but we’re not that close.” I pause for a moment, placing the wipe down once I’ve wiped away the crusty blood. Red looks away from me and looks down at the floor beside him. I continue speaking as I finish up. “Just a person helping another person. Just as I am with you.” I grab the disinfectant, and place some on my pointer finger.

“He’s a lucky guy to be able to know a person like you.” Red smiled. He immediately stopped smiling when he realized that moving his lip stung. I hid my smile.

“I hope you don’t mind. I should rub some of this on your lip, so it doesn’t get infected either.” I mumble as I stare into his dark blue eyes. His pupil is so enlarged that you can barely see them, but his eyes are soft, and they look like the ocean waves on a calm day. It’s hard to imagine that they’re the same eyes that some villains are afraid of.

I don’t realize how close we are to one another until he leans in and presses his lips to mine. I taste the chemicals of the wipes that I had just rubbed on them, but immediately kiss back without hesitation.

So that I can touch him, I wipe the disinfectant that was on my finger, on my floor, and place my arms around his neck. I feel his left hand go to my waist, pulling me closer so that I’m straddling his lap. My heart flutters as I think to how he’s so strong that with one hand, he can pull me on top of him.

But besides his strong demeanor, he’s soft and gentle. He seems to already know how to match his lips perfectly with mine, or maybe they were made just for me.

And yet sadly, I’m the first to pull away. He leans in as I do, still wanting more. His eyes are still closed as if he’s trying to relive what just happened, and when he opens them, his pupil is impossibly bigger. He seems to be speechless, and the only thing that comes across his lips is a large smile, despite the stinging that may come with it.

My face is red hot, and I rub my finger across his lips. “I hope that doesn’t get infected now.” I speak. What is my obsession with his wounds getting infected? Oh my god!

“Well at least I’ll know how it got infected, and how worth it, it was.” I would have laughed at his words if I didn’t hear a cough at the window. The both of us looked up to the familiar red, green, and yellow colors, standing there looking absolutely disgusted.

The boy below me rolled his eyes.

“Robin.” Is all he said as my face flushed out of color.

“Is this civilian causing a problem, Red Robin?” Robin asked, not breaking eye contact with me.

“No. They just helped me with my wounds is all. You can leave now.” Red said. I tried to move myself off of him, but his grip on me softly tightened.

Robin shook his head. “Batman asked of me to come and collect you. He has not heard from you for nearly an hour, and would wish us to regroup.” Damn. For how young he was, he spoke pretty well. Maybe he was older and hit puberty late or something.

Red sighed. “Well can you at least give us a moment please?” He asked. Robin nodded.

“As you wish.” He went to go jump down the stairwell, but he stopped for a moment. “And next time, keep the window closed.” He leaped down from my view, and I looked back down to the boy against my wall, whom I was still sitting on.

“I’m sorry. But I guess duty calls. And if that duty is Batman, then it’s immediate.” He loosens his grip on my waist and sighs. He lets me get off of him now, as I lean down and help him get up.

“Don’t use that arm, and make sure not to do anything to make those claw marks any bigger. Now go back to your base or whatever and get actual help.” I order, as he sits down on the windowsill.

“Do I at least get a goodbye kiss?” He asks, smirking. I roll my eyes and lean in. His left hand finds its way to my cheek, caressing it as I kiss him softly.

This time, he pulls away first. “If I don’t see you within the next week, I’ll send one of the others to give you an update for how I’m feeling.” He says. I nod.

“I don’t care. Just get better.” I cup his cheek, and he smiles.

He doesn’t say anything as he exits my window, and starts down the stairs in the fire exit. Below, I can see a motorcycle with Robin sitting on it.

"Took you long enough." I heard Robin complain.

“You could wait 5 more minutes.” My boy wonder said, as he started up the engine. He looked up to me, smiled brightly, and waved. I waved back.

“I’ll see you soon!” He promised.

“It’s a date!” I replied. He chuckled and drove off down the alley. I watched as he drove away from my view.

I closed my window and locked it. My heart was racing, and my mind was blank. I stared back to the unfinished essay on my bed.

“What the fuck just happened?” I asked myself.

54 notes · View notes

peskellence · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 4.1K

Gavin Reed arrived at the Police Station forty-five minutes late. It would be diplomatic to say that the detective took a 'relaxed' approach to timekeeping. In reality, he couldn't give less of a shit.

Removing his sunglasses, he seated them in his front pocket. An action he regretted almost immediately. The bright fluorescence of the station's lights assaulted his eyes, and the dull throbbing pain in his temple increased tenfold. As he groggily sauntered past the desks, a familiar voice chirped up to greet him:

"Weren't you radioed like an hour ago? How nice of you to grace us with your presence".

"Bite me, Chen"

Tina Chen, the officer in question, smirked at him playfully. A far cry from the despondent glares his colleagues usually greeted him with.

While it was entirely his own doing, Gavin would be remiss to admit that his lack of popularity wasn't isolating. Tina was one of the few people who could deal with his abrasive attitude, and for that he was endlessly grateful. Not that he'd ever admit it to her.

"I'm not the one you have to worry about", Tina warned. "It's the Captain who'll be doing the biting if you don't hurry up".

Gavin dared to glance at the Captain's office, and Tina's warning was quickly affirmed. Fowler stood to attention at the door, one of his hands balled into a fist as he repeatedly tapped the glass. He held up his free hand to flash his watch – a blatant dig at Gavin's tardiness.

"Shit..." Gavin leant himself against Tina's desk, desperately trying to steady himself. Dealing with Fowler was bad enough, but doing so with a hangover was akin to torture. "If I don't make it out of here, sprinkle my ashes on the floors of Bronco Bar".

Tina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You wouldn't be in the shit if you'd gotten to work on time."

"I wasn't exactly in a rush. This case they've assigned me is bullshit"

"I'm sure it isn't".

"It is," Gavin asserted, scowling bitterly. "'Android hate crime'. I mean, how the hell is that my department? I don't get why this hasn't been assigned to Anderson and his fucking tin-can".

Tina flinched, her eyes darting nervously to the android Officer sitting a few desks away. "Gav, enough with the 'tin-can'. You can't say shit like that anymore".

"And why's that, exactly?" Gavin demanded, throwing up his hands. "Because President Warren has decided that we all need to kiss and make up? Spare me".

"Don't be such an asshole".

"Why break the habit of a lifetime?".

The banging on Fowler's door increased, to which Gavin groaned. He began dragging his feet towards the office at a torturously slow pace. When he finally arrived, he could practically smell the contempt radiating off his superior. He didn't even bother asking Gavin to sit, immediately launching into his tirade:

"Just once, is it too much to ask that my men arrive when they are goddamn asked to?".

Gavin shrugged his shoulders, helping himself to an available chair. "I got held up in traffic on the way here".

"Don't spin me that bullshit. Did you even bother reading the assignment brief we sent you?".

"Damaged android. Apartment 14D Hartwell Tower" Gavin mumbled, unenthused "I skimmed it,".

"Murdered, Reed. Not damaged", Fowler clipped, seething with annoyance. "In what looks to be a targeted attack. Forensics have already been dispatched to the location. I want you there fifteen minutes ago".

"Why do I have to deal with this bullshit?" Gavin complained, "Get Connor or one of his pals to do it. My department is homicide".

Fowler's entire face seized up. It looked as though a vein might burst through his tightly knotted brow. "This is a homicide. Now do as your told. That's an order".

"Don't start giving me that – This isn't a homicide because no one's been killed. It was a fucking machine".

"That kind of talk might have flown last year, but it sure as hell doesn't fly anymore" Fowler pointed his finger to Gavin in an authoritative manner. "Between you and Anderson, I could write a bestseller: 'Dumbass Detectives and Their Dumbass Disciplinaries'".

Gavin sank back a little but refused to give up. He gave his Captain a cold look, hardening his jaw defensively. "You don't buy into this crap any more than the rest of us. A machine being destroyed isn't the same as a person losing their life. They are completely different".

"It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is that the law would disagree with you, and as an officer of the law, you'd do well to keep your mouth shut".

The finality in Fowler's tone informed Gavin that the discussion was over. He was right, of course. In just a few months, the legal status of androids had shifted astronomically. What had been acceptable less than a year ago would currently be grounds for swift reprimanding - or even dismissal.

No matter how much Gavin tried, there was no getting out of this. At least for now, he would need to demonstrate some level of cooperation.

Fowler seemed contented by the victory over his mouthy subordinate. Some of the tension released from his shoulders, and he leaned back in his chair.

"If you're done with your tantrum -", he said condescendingly "We have assigned an android officer to assist you on this case. Consider it the next step in your tolerance boot camp".

Fowler looked over Gavin's shoulder and made a motioning gesture. Gavin could hear the door slide open, followed by the tap of footprints on tile floors, drawing towards him.

"This is RK900. I'm sure you've already met".

Gavin turned around reluctantly and was immediately accosted by a set of disturbingly bright, intense eyes. RK900 was identical to Connor in almost every way, except it was far more physically imposing. With long legs and broad shoulders, and generally sharper features.

"Yeah, we've met", Gavin replied, making zero attempt to disguise the resentment brimming in his voice.

RK900 cocked its head, LED flicking from blue to yellow. It wasted no time studying Gavin, eyes raking up and down with unwavering scrutiny. Its previously neutral expression morphed into one of cold judgement.

"The fuck are you looking that?" Gavin demanded, to which RK900 wordlessly blinked its eyes, never once letting up. Eventually, it did address him, but only after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

"Apologies, Detective. I was determining how you might have arrived at the precinct this afternoon. Your blood alcohol content is 0.5 times over the legal limit".

Gavin felt his cheeks heat up. He was overcome with a sudden, all-consuming desire to punch the android square in the face. "I took a cab, you plastic asshole".

"My sensors indicate that you are lying", RK900 responded, its tone staunchly neutral. "It is not safe for you to operate a vehicle in your current condition. I am surprised you were not involved in an accident".

Gavin narrowed his eyes, stepping towards RK900 aggressively. "If you don't shut your mouth, you're going to be the one in a fucking accident".

"Enough, Reed", Fowler demanded, to which Gavin ceased his advance. He looked to the floor, feeling utterly despondent at his current situation.

Working with an android was bad enough, but RK900 was the worst of the worst. Gavin wondered how he could possibly get through this without losing his sanity. Not to mention his badge.

"You've been assigned your case and you have your address. Now, get out of my office before I fire you both".

Gavin let out a frustrated grunt as he stormed out of Fowler's office, slamming the door behind him. RK900 nodded to the Captain respectfully before following suit and leaving the room.

Despite the former's best efforts, RK900 soon matched Gavin's stride. As it walked alongside the Detective, it carried itself with near-flawless composure. "I suggest we take an automated dispatch vehicle, or you allow me to drive. I would rather we make it to the crime scene in one piece".

Gavin struggled to hold his tongue, "Do whatever you want. Like I give a shit. Just don't expect me to stroke your dick because Fowler wants me to play nice".

"I had no expectation that your cooperation with me would involve sexual favours, Detective".

Gavin stalled in his movements as if anchored to the floor. His eyes blew to a comedic size, and he shot the android a look of disbelief. "It's a figure of speech, dipshit".

"Regardless, it seems wildly inappropriate for a workplace environment", RK900 chided, "We have an investigation to attend to".

When they eventually arrived at the crime scene, the entrance to the apartment building was swarming with reporters. One appeared to be feverishly badgering a Junior Officer, mic held a bare inch from his reddening face:

"Is it true that the victim is an android?" The reporter demanded, leaning as far as she could over the police-enforced barrier "– And that this attack is just one in a disturbing trend of recent crimes against android citizens?".

"I, uh, I -" The officer stumbled over his words, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "I don't think I'm supposed to talk about that...".

"Alright, leave him alone" Gavin quickly made his way over to the nameless officer, swinging an arm around his shoulder. He grabbed the top of the reporter's microphone, speaking into it clearly:

"The DPD won't be taking questions. Now I suggest you all beat it. This is a crime scene".

"The people have a right to know, Detective" The second reporter, an android, quickly objected. "Despite the recent declines in android-phobic attitudes, many still believe that we should be treated as second-class citizens: Do the police intend to take these crimes seriously? And to treat them with the same levity that they would for similarly brutal crimes against humans?".

"I said beat it" Gavin repeated, aggressively pushing the microphone away, "Fucking vultures".

The first journalist looked determined to persist before freezing as she caught sight of something over Gavin's shoulder. All colour promptly drained from her face, and she stumbled back on her stiletto heels. Her android counterpart looked equally perturbed, LED flitting to red before returning to normal. They exchanged a look before hurriedly retreating to a nearby news van.

Gavin looked around, confused, and the reason for the journalist's sudden retreat soon became evident. RK900 stood behind him, looming menacingly, with an expression that promised misery for anyone who dared challenge it. Its eyes were locked firmly on the fleeing reporters. Unyielding and unblinking, trailing their movements with disturbing precision. It wasn't until they were securely tucked in the back of the van that RK900 finally looked away.

"I suggest we make our way to the crime scene now," It said matter-of-factly. "We are wasting valuable time".

The nameless rookie, who Gavin still held firmly by his shoulder, began to tense under his grasp. He regarded RK900 with nervous anticipation, sweating profusely. Gavin could have sworn that he damn near fainted when the android finally addressed him.

The sensors in RK900's eyes flickered, LED whirring yellow, "Officer Lewis Andre, you appear to be unwell. Your complexion is sickly and pallid, and your heart rate is elevated."

The officer, who Gavin now knew was called Lewis, yelped pitifully in response. Judging by his skittish demeanour and overall softness of his features, Gavin concluded that he couldn't be much older than twenty. He was undoubtedly fresh from basic training and likely on his first assignment.

What an assignment to stumble into, Gavin thought to himself. The poor bastard.

Despite Lewis' blatant discomfort, RK900 refused to relent, continuing to scrutinise him "Your stress levels are indicative of emotional instability. I suggest that you fulfil your duties in escorting us to the crime scene and then excuse yourself so you may consult a psychiatric professional".

"Y-Yes, sir", Lewis stammered, meekly pointing a finger towards the rotating doorway of the apartment building. "The victim's apartment is on the second floor...He was an HR400, a former Traci. Went by the name of Jason".

"We already know this. Show us the crime scene."

The young officer nodded before hurriedly leading the way. Gavin trailed back, allowing the poor boy some space. RK900, unsurprisingly, did not show the same consideration. It kept a half-stride behind him at all times, monitoring him to ensure he didn't run away.

Lewis was full-on trembling by the time they entered the elevator. As if terrified that RK900 would snap him like a twig for even the smallest act of insubordination. For all Gavin knew his fears were warranted.

While Connor had his moments, he had always possessed a capacity for basic diplomacy. Namely, an understanding and appreciation for emotion. The fundamental difference with his successor was a ruthless cut-throat approach. As if its 'tolerance for human bullshit' meter had been permanently set to zero.

The elevator door dinged open, and Lewis bolted out with visible relief. "Through this way, Sirs".

He led them to Apartment 14D, the police caution tape making it immediately apparent that they had found the correct location. The apartment door was slightly ajar, to which Gavin peered inside. The room was bustling with the movements of the attending forensic team. As he watched, he was blind-sighted by the sudden flash of a large camera.

RK900 nodded in satisfaction, reaching for the door handle. "Excellent. You may leave now, Officer Andre".

Lewis didn't need to be told twice. He scurried away at record speed, never once turning back. As the remaining two entered the apartment, Gavin regarded his android companion with disapproval.

"You know, humans generally don't like it when you treat them like shit".

RK900 began to study its surroundings, hardly acknowledging that Gavin had spoken. It ran its hand across a drag-like mark by the entranceway, human skin giving way to mannequin white as it deftly analysed the indents.

Gavin made his own observations, noting the scattered magazines and streaks of blue blood littering the entranceway. There was also an upturned table thrown haphazardly to the side, evidence of a struggle.

"I believe I treated that officer fairly", RK900 asserted plainly. "If he cannot handle the pressures of high-stakes police work, he should reconsider his profession".

Gavin wanted to pin RK900 by its neck and strangle it mercilessly. If it never again made a condescending remark, he would have done his due diligence.

"I'm sorry that people don't pop out of the factory perfect and ready to go", Gavin spat back at the android, expression marred with disgust. "They need a chance to grow and improve. I wouldn't expect you to understand, but a little compassion wouldn't hurt".

RK900 gave Gavin a weak side glance before directing its attention back to the investigation. "That is an interesting assertion, Detective. Especially coming from yourself".

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?".

"It is odd that you, of all people, would assert the need to show kindness to others. Given your history of aggressive and inflammatory behaviour".

Gavin clenched his jaw, the remaining threads of his composure quickly slipping away, "I'm plenty nice, you prick. I just tell things like they are".

"Quiet, please".

Before Gavin could say anything else, RK900 had hunched down to examine a streak of blue blood on the floor. It scooped a sample onto its fingers before placing them into its mouth.

"Ah, Jesus" Gavin looked away, heaving uncontrollably. "Do you have to fucking do that?".

"It is necessary for the investigation."

RK900 licked its lips, removing any remaining traces of the material. It stood back up, smoothing any resulting creases from its well-pressed suit.

"We can see it's blue blood. You don't have to put it in your mouth".

"The data from my internal analysis can provide valuable insight into the case. Namely, it allows me to scan for traces with the same forensic profile".

Gavin threw up his hands. "Well, best of luck with that, because I can't see any more blue blood around. Can you?".

"As it happens, I can. Thirium evaporates after a few hours of air exposure. However, it can still be detected with the correct equipment - such as myself".

"Wow. I'm so impressed."

RK900 studied Gavin, taking note of his exaggerated tone and flagrant eye-rolling. Its lips pulled downwards into something resembling a deep scowl.

"Your sarcasm does not elude me, Detective. I am also displeased with our current partnership, but rather than waste time with snide remarks, I suggest you listen to me so we may progress our investigation".

Gavin reeled back, surprised by the emotional charge in the android's response. "What did you say?".

As soon as the android's anger had appeared, it quickly dissipated. Its eyes glazed over, and the lids flickered like frenzied camera shutters, signalling an analysis being completed. The dissonance between RK900's otherwise human-like appearance and its undoubtedly mechanical behaviour triggered something unpleasant in Gavin.

"There is a trail. Leading from the entranceway and towards the back end of the apartment. The evaporation rate suggests that the attack was finished here".

When RK900 spoke in its zombified state, it was akin to the 'uncanny valley' effect that had plagued Gavin's early childhood. Like that one creepy Christmas movie where the characters looked real, but never seemed to move or behave as they should.

He wondered how CyberLife had succeeded in fucking up RK900's facial articulation so spectacularly. Unless the intention had been to make anyone who interacted with it insanely uncomfortable.

Gavin fought hard to maintain his bravado, folding his arms defiantly. "If the attacked finished here, smart guy, where is the body?".

RK900 looked to the ground and pointed its finger at a series of scrape marks. "The marks here are consistent with dragging a heavy object. It would suggest that the body was moved".

"Oh please, like anyone would be able to move one of those things! They weigh a ton -".

"Detective Reed. RK900" A voice addressed them, putting an end to the discussion. Gavin soon recognised the voice as belonging to Colton Sanders – an experienced CSI officer who had assisted the DPD in numerous prior cases.

"Sanders, how the hell are ya?" Gavin greeted, reaching out a hand and clapping it on the older man's shoulder.

"I'm surviving".

"Man, am I glad to see some good old-fashioned flesh and blood. So tell me, what are we looking at here?".

Sanders responded with a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose "Not a lot, I'm afraid. Or too much, depending on how you look at it. The 'droids have combed the place thoroughly, but there are so many potential DNA profiles that it will take us a couple of days to cross-check".

Gavin titled his head curiously "Why so many profiles?".

"I believe this will field your question" RK900 bent down, picking something up from the pile of scattered magazines. It looked like a tablet. Fortunately enough, the screen had already been unlocked. "The victim had recently viewed their electronic diary. It contains a list of names with corresponding dates and times. Document name is 'Clients'".

It took Gavin's mind a minute to catch up, and then he remembered. What Officer Lewis had said outside about the victim's model number.

He barked out a cruel laugh before shaking his head in disbelief. "The android retired from the Eden Club just to wind up becoming an escort? That's fucking priceless".

"Yeah, so with the volume of 'clients'", Sanders used his fingers to make an awkward air-quote gesture. "You can only imagine how much we've got to work with".

"The blacklight is working overtime today" Gavin snorted as his own juvenile statement, before continuing, "Would explain the lack of forced entry".

Gavin placed a hand on the front door which was noticeably intact. Save the police-issue hacking device affixed to the lock. "Seems like our culprit posed as a customer".

"There was another possible point of entry - ", Sanders explained. "But it was more than likely it was a point of exit".

"Where would that be?".

"The window in the bedroom was left wide open. It couldn't have been opened from the outside, but there's guttering that the perp could have used to shimmy down".

"Anything on the drainpipe?".

Sanders shrugged his shoulders. "Can't say, I'm afraid. It's been raining cats and dogs all day, so any DNA evidence that might have been there is long gone".

"It only started to rain heavily at 2:34pm this afternoon", RK900 corrected. "With this in mind, and by comparing the dating of the Thirium traces that I have analysed, it would be safe to assume that the crime occurred approximately 2 hours ago".

"Well yeah, that does line up with the witness reports..." Sanders agreed, "Neighbours started calling the police around lunchtime, citing a domestic disturbance".

RK900 returned its attention to the tablet, swiping the screen a few times before gesturing for Gavin and Sanders to come and have a look.

"With our current time-frame in mind, our culprit is most likely a scheduled client by the name of 'THOD GRAWS".

"I doubt he was stupid enough to use his real name", Gavin clipped back.

"It is highly improbable, but it will be interesting to see if any of the DNA profiles collected match our criminal databases. There is a possibility that we may find someone known for using the same, or a similar, alias".

"Instead of dicking around with dead leads, how about we check out the body?" Gavin rolled his eyes and turned himself back towards Sanders. "Mind showing us the way?".

"Sure thing...", Sanders agreed, "I'm warning you though, it isn't pretty".

Gavin tutted in dismissal, "The victim was an android. How bad can it be? No blood, no guts, no smell. Come on, Colt, I'm a big boy. I can take it".

Sanders nodded, looking a little deflated. He led the two further into the apartment, towards the bedroom. He hesitated slightly as he turned the doorknob before pushing forward.

Entering the room, the first thing that became apparent was a message scrawled on the adjacent wall, written in black marker pen:

SUCKS COCK IN ANDROID HELL.

"Charming", Gavin mumbled, examining the letters. "We've got a real wordsmith on our hands".

"Detective," RK900 said firmly, demanding Gavin's attention. He followed its gaze to the east side window, and that is when he saw it.

The android was naked. It was strung up on the curtain rail, hands out to either side, forming a T shape. There was a large laceration across its stomach, and it had been mutilated from the waist down. Its eyes had been removed, leaving nothing but two hollow sockets.

Underneath the window was a bed, which had been stripped of its covers, leaving nothing but a blue-soaked mattress and a series of Polaroid pictures.

Gavin felt his heart sink as he tried to comprehend what he was looking at.

"Jesus fucking Christ", He muttered, unsure of what else to say.

Sanders hummed in agreement before bowing his head in respect "Yeah, whoever did this was one twisted fucker. You might want to take a look at those photos".

Gavin did as directed, and the uncomfortable sinking in his chest only increased. The pictures told a grim story, showing detailed snapshots of the mutilation process. Had it not been for the blood and greyed-out LED, the man in the picture could have been mistaken for an average person. Their postmortem expression seemed to be trapped in a look of perpetual fear. The brow was tensed, and mouth opened, cheeks stained with freshly-shed tears.

Gavin dropped the photos as if they burned to the touch. He had to take a long, calming breath before re-addressing Sanders, "Any luck finding its eyes and...you know...".

Sanders shook his head sadly. "Looks like the guy must have taken 'em. Like a sick prize or something".

Gavin turned to RK900, curious to see what it made of all this. He found the android standing at the wall parallel to the bed, staring intently.

"There is another message", It informed Gavin, not once turning away. "Written in Thirium".

"What does it say?" he asked.

RK900 paused for a moment, the processing yellow of its LED flitting to red before returning to normal. It slowly read out the message:

I KNOW YOU CAN READ THIS. I WILL NOT REST UNTIL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU FILTHY MACHINES IS RIPPED APART. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT SCRAP.

Gavin fell uncharacteristically silent. The weight of RK900's words hung uncomfortably in the air. Sanders appeared equally disturbed, lips pursed together tightly.

"This is not the first time our culprit has acted violently towards androids", RK900 warned, " - and it certainly will not be the last. If we do not apprehend them soon, I anticipate there will be many more victims".

#dbh rk900 #dbh #detroit become human #dbh nines #reed900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #fanfiction #dbh fanfic #gavin reed x rk900 #dbh fanfiction #gavin900

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damagedintellect · 1 year ago

Text

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 3 💌

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too

💌 Word count: 1,853 💌 Available Chapters [1] [2] [You are here] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Aside from the raid on the agency and fearing being shot to death it all turned out okay. You had a few scraps on your arms and legs from the broken glass but other than that you were right as rain. While Atsushi was going with Ranpo, Kunikida wanted you to stay behind to help reorganize the files with him. "I wanted you to stay behind because tomorrow you're going to escort Ranpo to Kyushu." He took another file from the stack you were holding. "You still have amnesia but it's clear your ability is some kind of foresight. It's not Ranpo's ultra deduction but he should be able to help you get a better grasp of it especially given the president's gift."

You stiffened. You hadn’t thought of that. The next few days they would be handling the Azure Messenger. Which was a mess you'd gladly skip out on but the anime didn't follow Ranpo to Kyushu and you don't recall reading about it either. You'd have no idea what was going to happen. This isn't good but you can't refuse the order. Realistically it was sound logic but you were going to disappoint Ranpo with your clear lack of talent. Oh boy. You were dreading the experience.

By train it would take several hours to make it to Kyushu from Yokohama. You were not looking forward to such a long journey especially with Ranpo. Sure enough it was only three minutes into the first train when the other announced that they were bored. “Well, did you bring a book or something?” you asked hoping he had a plan for his own entertainment.

“I did but it was boring. It’s no fun when you can already guess the ending. They made it so obvious too.” he was flailing his arms before he settled to look out the window unamused and slightly irritated. You sighed, you brought a book too or well Dazai handed you a book. “The Complete Guide to Suicide.” You genuinely wanted to read it to see just what kinds of things people have tried. You were curious about Ranpo’s book more. You wanted to see if you’d be able to deduce the ending before it happened, almost like a practice run for the case you’d be helping with. Although the moment you tried to grab for it he turned to you “It’s the sister, she lied about her condition and wasn’t even at the hospital. She and the doctor were in cahoots.”

You frowned “You know that’s not going to stop me from reading it right?” He rolled his eyes, pulling it just out of reach. “I know, how about you entertain me!” his smile sparkled with intrigue

You raised an eyebrow “What you want me to tell you a story?” As a writer it would be a piece of cake and then you could even get feedback but you weren’t sure how good Ranpo’s honest review would be to help you finish your book. It would still be better than nothing for the next few hours though. Ranpo hummed “Not exactly. I want you to talk about how your ability works.”

Oh boy, here you go.

So far you had just pretended to see visions but that wouldn’t make much sense would it? Everyone else’s ability had a clear set of guidelines that they followed. Honestly you should have thought about that earlier. “I’m not sure how it works but sometimes when I’m around people or if I look at their eyes I get this feeling and then suddenly I know things?” Man, you’re a writer and that’s the best you could come up with? Ranpo only tilted his head rubbing his chin “Okay that’s a start I guess. Then what do you feel while looking at me?” He opened his eyes so you can get a good look at his so-called future.

“Hmmm well I see you getting a phone call in a few days because Kunikida and Dazai will need help locating a bomb. Other than that I got nothing.” Pretending to have foresight is a lot harder when you don’t know what the future holds. Maybe it’s time to expand your ability, but how?

“So just by looking at me you can see an event a few days from now.” He paused trying to think of how to help stimulate your ability. “Have you ever tried grasping information through touch?” He held out his hand to you “You said you get a feeling so I want you to focus on that while holding my hand to see if anything pops up.”

You nodded “I can try.” Closing your eyes you grabbed his hand and took a deep breath. Should you talk about his past? How far into the future should you be able to see? Wouldn’t he get suspicious of why you can’t see the direct future or were you over thinking this? You decide that the supposed visions of the future should be limited through sight. Touch however maybe you should take a page out of Ango’s book.

“Originally you’re not from Yokohama but you did go to the Yokohama Police Academy until you were kicked out because you exposed the warden. You met Fukuzawa by chance while you went to pick up your work permit. He was the one who gave you your glasses.” You paused to look up at Ranpo. Shockingly he opened his eyes to stare at you. He looked surprised but there was another emotion that you couldn't place. You continued as you matched his eye contact “You don’t need the glasses to activate your ability but it does make it easier for you to shut it off should I go on?” You were not sure how much more you could say at this point. With the way he was looking at you you might have said too much already. You know maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. What if he asked you to use this later during the case. You may have just painted yourself into a corner.

“That was unexpected. Fukuzawa is the only other person who knows about my past prior to meeting him.” He leaned back in his seat “Your ability seems to be more than just foresight. From what I can tell you might be able to read people like books. It would be a powerful ability to have for any organization.” He turned to face you again “That may be why you have amnesia and woke up in the river. I suspect someone doesn’t want you to remember how to fully use your ability since it’s so powerful but that’s just my speculation. We won’t know for sure until you remember something from your past.”

“How ironic. I’m not sure if that makes me more inclined to remember or not. My ability just became twice as complicated.”

Luckily you arrived at the station before he could come up with another way to test your ability. You both picked up some snacks before you boarded your next train. Ranpo was too enthralled with his sugar haul to pay attention to you so your mind wandered to what comes next. You had taken out a notepad to scribble and doodle on to pass the time and to make it look like you were doing something. The next thing would be Dazai getting kidnapped, Atsushi saving Kyouka and eventually the guild making people disappear. You’re pretty sure that’s where season 1 ended. Your scribbling started to intensify catching the detective’s attention. Ranpo looked at you curiously “Who's Mr. Fancy hat?”

You tilted your head at him “Huh?” He pointed at what you were drawing. You had drawn a collection of chibi Chuuya's all over the page. Oops you didn’t realize what you were doing you were just drawing some silly little guy. It didn’t occur to you that it looked remarkably like Chuuya. Good thing Ranpo had no idea who he was. “Oh I don't know?” You tear the page out and crumple it up. Throwing it away at the first opportunity to destroy the evidence.

He laughed at your actions but didn't say anything else. When you finally arrived in Kyushu they had an escort waiting for you. Apparently your client had set up accommodations for you both. You were going to meet with them tomorrow once you’ve had time to settle overnight. During the brief you weren’t much help as expected and once Ranpo got started the most he needed you for was to fetch him refreshments as he looked over evidence. Thankfully he didn’t ask you to use your ability. It didn't take that long to crack the case but the amount of paperwork that needed to be done was insane. All because he was from outside of Kyushu. No wonder it took three days total to finish up here. Two days were just traveling and one day of mostly paperwork.

Just like you predicted on your last day when you and Ranpo were walking around he got the call from the others. He didn’t say anything, not that he really could. He was too busy solving their case. Afterwards he made you get more snacks than you could carry. When you finally got on the train he made sure to give you an earful that he'd let it slide this time since technically you were still getting used to using your ability but as your superior you were to report to him about anything that pops up on your radar. That way he doesn't have to lift a finger in the future. You're actually not sure how serious he was about the demand but you’d play along next time. All in all it was a successful mission. It was getting late by the time you made it back to Yokohama but you still checked back in at the agency to be updated on what went down when you were gone. Not like you didn’t already know but it was nice to be kept in the loop.

Making your way back to the dorms you were exhausted. As you walked up the stairs you greeted Dazai who was on his way out. You stopped in your tracks.

“Ah earth to (Y/N)? Are you doing alright?”

You nodded at him realizing that your ability shouldn’t work on him. Part of you knew that getting captured was part of his plan but you still felt the need to warn him. To let him know that someone cared. Against your better judgment you said “Just be careful okay.”

He smirked in response “Aw, is someone worried about me?” You didn’t even hesitate “Oh all the time. You have horrible eating habits and you always go off doing who knows what. Someone’s gotta do it.” You smiled but didn’t wait for his retort as you turned away without looking back at him. You just continued walking up the stairs. You’re not sure why you felt the need to tell him that but at this moment you didn’t really care. You had a date with your futon.

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#the BSD isekai au no one asked for #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #xreader #x reader

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