#in her defense i was wearing a mask and mens jeans so i could very well be a short king

[abyssaldyke]

Adventures in gender with the TSA: instead of asking to hear my voice, the agent just confidently hit MAN and then sheepishly told me to get back in the machine when it screamed NO DICK at her. Joke's on you, I left it at home.

[scaryscarecrows]

Will Trade Soup for Intel

Potential Gotham Knights ‘verse. For those who did not see the trailer: Bruce is dead (pfft, suuuuure he is), Jim Gordon is dead (Jim, no!), the Court of Owls appears (this is gonna be bad), Batgirl and Robins 1-3 have guardianship of Gotham. For this piece: Penguin is also dead. Dove has his operation. And the flu. :p

***

Tim’s not sure where he thought Jason was going to take him. Honestly, because it’s Jason, he was sort of thinking, ‘seedy hole in the wall where retired hitmen go’. Or something. Or maybe an orphanage, or an under-the-bridge camp; the Alley Kids don’t throw bottles and needles at him, unlike the others. They demand rides.

(Yeah, it’s funny but also scary to see the Red Hood, known for his duffle bag of heads, giving a little girl a piggyback ride.)

This is not one of those places. This is some apartment building in midtown with a doorman and everything. And, y’know, it’s daytime, which...they don’t operate in the daytime that much unless they’re undercover, and they don’t appear to be. Jason told Tim to dress like a real boy and stick his domino on in the elevator, but he’s wearing what he always does; jeans, hoodie, heavy boots. And he’s carrying a brown bag that smells like soup. No helmet in sight, and Tim knows he won’t wear a domino now. They bug the scar*, he says.

“Where are we?”

“To see an old friend. I’m out of other ideas.”

“What, are they a conspiracy professor or something?”

“No.”

The doorman waves them through and they wait for an empty elevator. Jason presses the third-floor button and settles in, adjusting the bag in his arms. For all the crap they give...gave...Bruce about theatrics, Jason’s no better. He lives for building the suspense. Tim had nearly murdered him again for that stupid monk joke. Asshole. Ten minutes from his life, and for that? Humph.

A cotton face mask whaps him in the chest while he’s adjusting his domino and he frowns.

“What.”

“You’re fragile, and she’s got the flu, which is why we’re here in the daytime. I’m basically immune after my, um, upgrade points got cashed in, but you are a Victorian maiden who'll probably turn it into tuberculosis and die and I can’t deal with Dick after that.”

Huh.

…

Whatever. You lose one spleen…

He puts the mask on, too, making sure Jason sees his glower, just as the elevator dings to a halt.

Tim starts to suspect they’re not invited, exactly, when Jason shoves the bag at him and drops down to pick the lock. Though he does knock and call, “Don’t get up!”, so.

“There. Give me that before you spill something...hey, Miss Marquis! I brought soup!”

…

Jason couldn’t have just told him this, why?

There’s furious coughing in the other room, followed by movement, and a minute later Dove shuffles out, wrapped in a blanket and wearing what appear to be bunny slippers. She looks terrible.

“For the tenth time, I don’t care how immune you think you are, you’re going to get sick and I can take care of myself.”

“Haven’t gotten sick yet,” Jason says cheerfully. “‘Sides, it’s, like, partly a bribe.”

Dove doesn’t look convinced. Tim’s not convinced, either. Jason, when left to his own devices, can and will out-mother-hen Dick. He’s just usually scarier when he does it. More like Alfred.

Before any further argument can happen, Dove starts coughing again and winds up clutching the doorframe with one hand and holding the other up to keep Jason at bay.

“Thought you were gonna take Theraflu,” Jason says sulkily. Dove reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I will take it if I need it, Hood.” Tim sympathizes. Theraflu tastes like sadness. At least Robitussin is nice. “I promise this isn’t my first flu, I am fine. ” This is not a battle she’ll win. Tim knows. Tim has tried and failed. Jason had loomed at him and told him, oh-so-nicely, that he would take the Theraflu or that it would breach his defenses. “What do you want.”

Jason holds up the bag.

“Fridge or bowl?”

“Fridge, please.”

“Tea?”

“If I say yes, will you settle down?”

“For now.”

She sighs and totters over to an armchair.

“Fine.”

“What kind.”

“I’ve got some sort of zinger tea in there, that would be very nice.”

Jason vanishes into the kitchen. Dove sinks into her chair, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders, and waves at the couch.

“Siddown, Robin.”

“Sorry we broke in,” he says, because Jason won’t. Dove just shakes her head.

“This isn’t the first time or the last time,” she says. “At least you used the door...if you need a drink or somethin’, help yourself.”

Jason comes back, steaming mug in his hands.

“I’ll get it,” he says. “Bird boy here shouldn’t touch the kitchen.”

Slander.

“Nightwing’s worse.”

“Still. Here y’go.”

“Thanks, honey.” Dove leans up to take it before shooing him back. “Now. Why are you here.”

Jason settles onto the couch next to Tim and leans forward, worrying at his lower lip.

“This is going to sound crazy.”

“Well, that’s interesting.”

“Do you know anything about the Court of Owls?”

Dove snorts, coughs, and takes a sip of her tea.

“What?”

“You know…beware the court of owls that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word of them--”

“Or they’ll send the Talon for your head, I know the rhyme.” She takes another sip. “It’s a scary story to keep kids in line, you know that.”

“We thought so, but.” He shrugs. “”Had a run-in with...something...last night that, um. Looked a little dead. But not dead like me, dead like...I don’t know. It was like it wasn’t human anymore. Or ever. I don’t know.”

Well, that’s a surprise. Tim wonders if Jason just straight-up admitted what happened or if Dove got it out of him or from some other source.

“Croc’s not human, either, kid.”

“No. This thing...I didn’t...I broke its neck and it fucking twisted it back into place.”

Dove frowns.

“You’re sure?”

“Uh-huh. And before that I emptied literally twelve bullets into this thing and it didn’t even flinch. I’m telling you, something wasn’t right and it was wearing an owl mask.”

Tim nods.

“There have been four murders committed with daggers that have owl insignias on them,” he says. “We think these two things are related.”

“Owl daggers?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I see one?”

“I brought a picture. The daggers are police evidence.”

“Like you boys didn’t borrow one,” she says, but sits up when Jason comes over with the phone. “I’ve seen something like this before.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“When?”

“Years ago, now. Penguin had one that he got from who-knows-where. It went missing one night-we chalked it up to Catwoman and let it go-but we did have people offer to buy it a few times. Generous offers, too.”

“He wouldn’t sell?” Odd. Penguin loved money almost as much as his pet birds. “Can you remember who offered?”

“Rich men, you know the type. They like...oddities.”

Tim does know the type. During Dick’s stint as Batman, he’d stumbled upon an auction house that specialized in some nasty things, including a very particular crowbar.

(Jason, as far as Tim knows, has no idea about this.)

“Did he say anything about it?”

“No. He put it in his office, in a little case, and honestly, I sort of figured someone had tried to kill him with it. He was funny about things like that.”

That’s an understatement. Penguin had been very proud of the bottle in his eye, among other things.

Dove starts coughing again and ends up setting her tea on the end table. Jason’s halfway over there when the coughs turn to sputters and she manages to wheeze out a, “Fine. M’fine.”

“This is why you should take Theraflu.”

“Honey…”

“I can make--”

“Hon.” He shuts up. “I’m okay. It’s just the flu, give me another week and I’ll be back to normal.” She takes a shuddery breath and picks up her tea again. “I promise. Now. I don’t.” Another shuddery breath, but no coughing this time. “I don’t know anything else off the top of my head, but. Little fuzzy.” She tugs at her blanket until it’s closed around her neck, just under her chin. “If anything comes up, I’ll let you know-ow- shit --”

The coughs don’t stop this time and she winds up bent nearly double, arms curled up to, presumably, brace her ribs. Ouch. When they finally wane, she’s red-faced and wheezing and looking fairly well miserable. Tim’s just about to nudge Jason when she stands up, clutching her mug in white, shaky fingers, and says, “I am going back to bed. Lock up behind yourselves.”

“Can we do anything?”

“No, hon. But thanks. You boys.” A finger goes up and she sort of... hics ...but nothing happens. “You boys stay safe. Don’t do anything. Anything reckless.”

Reckless? Humph. They’re not reckless. Adventurous, is Tim’s preferred term. So one time he leapt off a building knowing his grappler wasn’t working. Dick caught him, like he knew he would. It was leap or be eaten, and being eaten was by far the uglier choice.

“Reckless? Us?” Jason mock-gasps. “Thanks. Soup’s in the fridge. Want me to make you a Thera--”

“ No. Thank you.”

THE END

*I’m debating on whether or not that scar is Joker-related (could be an aborted Glasgow?) OR Batarang-caused: maybe Bruce hit his face rather than his throat in this version of UtRH. Either way, ow.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya Chapter 5: The Masks We Wear

“You are, without a doubt, the most arrogant asshole I’ve ever met!” Nami screamed, her voice echoing down the steel hallway. Most of the crew had taken cover in any room they could find—things had been tense ever since the sunburn incident over a week ago, everyone walking on eggshells waiting for Law’s inevitable revenge. They all knew it wouldn’t be right away; the man liked to take his time, meticulously planning while his victim was lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he had forgiven and forgotten. There was already a large betting pool on what would happen and when, with theories ranging from her waking up to a room full of organs to being forced to wear a skimpy nurse uniform.

Most were silently praying for the latter.

Across from her, Law glared, arms crossed and knuckles white as a small vein popped in his neck out of frustration. They’d been arguing for nearly ten minutes, and for a man who was used to having his orders followed immediately and enthusiastically, it was quickly growing wearisome. “And you’re the most infuriating little witch I’ve ever encountered. I’m not even asking much; it’s completely within your skillset.”

“Like hell it is! You’d have more luck convincing me to wear your crew’s stupid jumpsuits!”

“And deprive my men of seeing you prance around in practically nothing? Morale would tank.”

She crossed her arms, scowling. “Then we agree; I’m not doing it.”

“Our agreement was that you work for me; that means you listen to my orders and carry them out, no arguments.”

“I absolutely never agreed to the ‘no arguments’ part.”

“All I’m asking is for you to pull your weight by using your skills as the Cat Thief to assist me in a little infiltration job. Or do you not know how to act like a lady?” he taunted.

She bristled at the insult but refused to take the bait. “I already pull my weight; I help Bepo with his maps, guide you through storms, and do my share of chores.”

“I’ll concede to the first two, but I know you’ve been conning the men into doing your cleaning.”

She didn’t even try to stop the pleased smirk from curving her lips. “I can’t help it if they feel like being gentlemen by taking on some extra mopping so I can dedicate my time to more important matters.”

“And you thank them by stealing their wallets.”

“It’s no secret I’m a thief; they should know better than to let their guards down around me. Consider it training; you said I shouldn’t let my skills degrade, and a pretty face like mine could be their downfall if they don’t smarten up.”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t removed your hands for it, Nami-ya,” Law replied sourly. “That being said, I’m ordering you to stop stealing from them. It’s not nice to take advantage of your crew.”

Infuriated, she jabbed him in the chest. “They’re not my crew! We’re in a temporary alliance, and I’m fine working with them, but I’m a Straw Hat! Get that through your pigheaded-skull!”

A hand shot forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close to Law’s tall, imposing form. “For all intents and purposes, until the year is up, you’re a Heart Pirate. I said when you first arrived, I intend on making the most of having you on my crew, and I meant it.” Arguing was getting him nowhere, so he quickly changed tactics. A shiver ran up Nami’s spine as he leaned close, hot breath ghosting over her sensitive ear and neck. “You’re stealthy, clever, beautiful, and one of the best burglars on the Grand Line. I can’t imagine a better partner. With our combined skillsets, a job like this should be both easy and extremely profitable. I just need your help searching the place for some classified documents once the party’s in full swing.”

A hint of pink dusted her cheeks at his flattery. “Documents?”

“Inside the main study is a safe full of Marine codes, reports on the various atrocities they’ve caused in the name of ‘justice,’ names of soldiers infiltrating pirate crews—all things that go for millions of belli on the black market. Besides that, our target is known for having expensive tastes. Bejeweled trinkets, high-end art, gold statuettes; the man’s loaded.”

Nami couldn’t help it; belli signs flashed in her eyes at the thought of getting her hands on that treasure. Law’d said he had a big job planned, and clearly, he wasn’t kidding.

It was clear that he had her attention, so the Dark Doctor pressed on, voice dropping an octave to seductively murmur, “And that’s just the study. Imagine all the rich pockets you could pick at the party. Far more profitable than my crew, and anything you manage to steal on your own is completely yours; I won’t even demand a cut.” Brushing his free hand across the sleeve of her borrowed shirt, he added, “I was even generous enough to buy you a new dress for the occasion, since you’ll need to look the part of a rich doctor’s lover.”

As much as she hated it, she was wavering. When he’d first proposed—or more specifically, ordered—she escort him to a party as his date, she’d refused on principle. But damn, after only a month, he was starting to figure out her weaknesses, and right now, money was a big one. She had very little to her name on the ship; most of her clothes were borrowed from Ikkaku, and while they’ve made port a couple times, she hadn’t been able to get much beyond the essentials. So the idea of having fresh, wealthy victims and an outfit of her own that she didn’t even have to pay for was tempting indeed.

Too bad she knew pirates like him didn’t do anything for free.

Ignoring the overwhelming heat of his proximity and her natural greed, hazelnut eyes met his hooded gaze suspiciously. “What’s your real game here, Law?”

To his credit, his lazy grin didn’t falter. “Maybe I just think it’ll be amusing to watch you force yourself to shower me with love and adoration all night.”

Nami didn’t buy it for a second. Beneath the sharp scent of soap and antiseptic, she could smell a con. “And who, exactly, owns the house we’ll be infiltrating?”

The confident expression finally slid off his face. “Baron Harpin Gerald, former Head of Intelligence for the Navy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“He’s over 70 years old—far past his prime.”

“Whitebeard was 72 and still considered the Strongest Man in the World! Garp’s even older and he can throw cannonballs like baseballs! And do you really think a couple of pirates won’t be recognized at a former Marine bigwig’s gala? Especially one of the fucking Supernova?!” she shouted, trying to pull away for the certified madman who’d managed to rope her into service.

Not budging or releasing his hold on the slippery thief, he stated, “Lucky that it’s a masquerade ball, then. A good mask, some temporary hair dye, and no one will suspect a thing. Besides, no pirate would be brazen enough to walk right into the lion’s den.”

“You mean stupid enough.”

“And here I thought you’d enjoy making a little extra cash.”

“I like staying out of jail more. Besides, I’ve seen what your powers can do; you don’t even need to attend the party!”

Gold eyes narrowed in annoyance, though she got the sense it wasn’t fully at her. “On that scale, everyone with eyes will notice a mysterious blue bubble springing up out of nowhere, and someone is sure to raise the alarm,” he countered. “The other problem is that the safe is made out of Seastone—that means my powers are useless, and even touching the damn thing weakens me. So, I need a more traditional thief by my side as back-up.”

Realization hit her like Luffy’s Gum-Gum Bazooka. “You’ve tried to rob him before, haven’t you?”

“Once, about six months ago. Far from a success, though at least the injuries were minimal and he never found out who got past his defenses.”

She frowned. Now it definitely made sense why he wanted to infiltrate the masquerade, but she was still skeptical. “How do you even plan to get us in? If this party’s as fancy as you say, there’ll be a guest list, invitations, at the very list some kind of ID check at the entrance to keep the riffraff out.”

Law reached into his jean pocket, drawing out a shiny, embossed invitation. “Then it’s a good thing Dr. Goodheart Adrian M.D. and his plus-one have already RSVP’d.”

“You really think they’ll fall for a fake invitation?”

“I sent Uni ahead to switch out the guest list with an updated version. Bribed a servant to let him take his place. He sent me a message this morning that he was successful, so we’re in.”

“Like anyone would believe you’re a real doctor.”

“I am a real doctor—I wouldn’t have been able to save Mugiwara’s life if I weren’t,” he said pointedly.

Nami winced. There was that painful reminder of exactly how much she owed this man and that, whether she liked it or not, she was obligated to follow his orders for the sake of their deal. The whole plan sounded absolutely insane, but it was still a plan—far more than she was used to on her own crew.

And she really needed the money. Not just for shopping; being so poor again brought back too many painful memories of her childhood, of being poor and watching Bellemere eat nothing but mikans so her kids would have enough to eat. Of putting aside the majority of her haul after every job, counting down the days until she’d have enough to buy back her village. Of watching those shady Marines destroy the mikan grove, hauling away her stash so Arlong could keep her forever. Treasure was more than just shiny coins and cute outfits to her—it was a safety net, something she clung to as tightly as a child might a security blanket.

Money could keep monsters at bay, and now that she was stuck on a ship with the Surgeon of Death, that fact was more prominent than ever.

So as much as she wanted to refuse and wipe that smug glint from his eye, she knew he had her backed into a corner, where the most she could do was give in gracefully.

At long last, she sighed, “My dress better have pockets.”

XXX

Though she generally preferred casual clothes, Nami appreciated expensive things, and the gown Law had gotten her definitely screamed “money.” The gold satin overdress, embossed with darker gold leopard spots, draped over her curves magnificently, cinching tightly at the waist with a black and gold belt; the bottom had an under layer of stiff interfacing, allowing it to flare out like a ballgown without the need for tulle or petticoats while concealing a daring slit where she could slip her ill-gotten goods into the many hidden interior pockets or expose the pale flesh of her leg as a distraction. The plunging neckline was nearly to her sternum, and the long, billowing sleeves hid her signature tattoo. It was more like an extremely fancy robe in its design, and underneath was a skintight, black, spaghetti-strap bodysuit much better for sneaking around in, her Clima-Tact strapped to her thigh. A string of pearls and matching earrings completed the look—it wasn’t quite as fancy as what she was sure other women would be wearing, but it was what she had, and it was less conspicuous than going unadorned. If she were lucky, maybe she’d have the opportunity to swipe something better off a drunk heiress.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” the Cat Thief grumbled as she carefully applied eyeliner. A long, dark purple wig covered her orange hair, the loose, elegant curls pinned away from her face with a few barrettes inlaid with pearls, letting the rest cascade down her back like a midnight waterfall. Ikkaku had given her permission to use as much of her makeup as needed, and with a bit of contouring and highlighter, Nami could hardly recognize herself.

“I can,” the engineer chimed from her bed where she’d been studying the mansion’s blueprints. She and the rest of the crew were tasked with causing a number of diversions throughout the island that would draw away the guards and authorities, giving the pair inside the perfect opportunity to sneak away to the study. “He made you an offer you couldn’t refuse. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

“What, you want to be Law’s girlfriend for the night? Because I’m willing to trade.”

“Hell no—last time we tried that cover, I couldn’t keep a straight face. Nearly tanked the whole plan. But it’s cute how far he’s willing to go to get you on his side. It’s even funnier that you pretend you don’t like it.”

Nami snorted, brushing on some mascara, pleased with how sultry the fanned-out lashes made her almond eyes. “I don’t like it. He’s a creep, and Luffy’s rival, and I’m still waiting for the day I wake up on his operating table, heart and liver and kidneys on display and ready for sale. Or for him to sell me wholesale to the highest bidder.”

Shaking her head, Ikkaku replied matter-of-factly, “He wouldn’t do that to you unless you really tried to fuck us over. Like, there was one guy who joined up not long after me who tried to sell Bepo to some slavers—Minks go for a lot at auctions. Captain’s not usually one for cold-blooded torture, but he made that bastard suffer. Last we saw him, the guy was in pieces being shipped off to separate corners of the four Blues.”

She shuddered at the image, though she couldn’t bring herself to fault his reaction. The more she got to know Bepo, the more she wanted to protect him, too, and from what she’d gathered, the bear was one of Law’s oldest and closest friends. “Now that I believe, but are you seriously not afraid of him? You’ve seen what he can do, and while he’s not as bad as I thought, you can’t tell me all of his reputation’s government propaganda.”

“Why would I be? Even if he was as ruthless as the papers say, Captain Law takes care of his crew. Plus, I’m indispensable around here, and I grew up with four older brothers, so I know a thing or two about how many buttons I can push before I’m in any real trouble.” She smirked, as if she’d just discovered a big secret. “You’re not scared because you think he’ll actually slice you up—otherwise, you wouldn’t backtalk him so much. What you’re really afraid of is the fact that you’re not at the top of the food chain anymore.”

It gutted her that her friend wasn’t wrong. Though Luffy was captain, from the get-go Nami had basically been the one who ran the ship, bending the others to her will with either her feminine wiles or her fists. And while she certainly had most of the Heart Pirates wrapped around her finger, she didn’t like that Law had real power and authority over her while her usual threats and tactics had minimal effect on the cool captain. “It’s far from the only reason, but yeah, it doesn’t help. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve all been super nice and accommodating—but I’m not exactly a trusting person. And Law’s way more…I guess intimidating is the best word to use, than Luffy ever was. So I’m not going to be joining the guy’s fan club anytime soon.”

“Fair, but just give Captain a chance, yeah? He might surprise you.”

Before she could argue that she wanted absolutely no surprises from the Surgeon of Death, there was a knock at the door, the raps against the metal quick and precise.

“Seems someone’s here to pick you up for your date,” Ikkaku sing-songed.

Hazel eyes glared at her bunkmate as she got up to answer the door. “It’s not a date, and if you call it that again, you’re gonna find out why exactly why I’m Head Bitch in Charge on the Sunny.”

Steeling herself, Nami smoothed down the stiff fabric of her gown, determined to treat this night with the same level of professionalism Law used in the infirmary. A few hours of acting, looking pretty, and sneaking around, and then she could plan her next shopping spree. And despite his arrogance and innuendos, she was sure Law would take this just as seriously—after all, it was his plan, and the payout affected the whole crew. He knew what he was doing, and with the amount of thought and care he put into crafting this elaborate scheme, there was no way he’d risk it by pushing her buttons. Perhaps the night wouldn’t be a total disaster.

Those reassuring thoughts flew out the window into the ocean depths to probably be eaten by a sea king the moment she opened the door.

“Please tell me that’s not your disguise.”

Looking down at himself, the Dark Doctor’s brow furrowed. “I see nothing wrong with it.” Admittedly, he looked good; midnight blue hair, including his goatee and sideburns, was dyed black, and he’d put in grey contacts to cover the distinctive gold. His suit was sleek black satin, the knee-length, high-collared coat cutting a rather dashing figure. The vest was black and gold brocade, shiny gold buttons and matching watch chain adding a little extra flare. In his hand was a polished mahogany cane with a silver handle shaped like a bird’s skull, and Nami wondered if it was secretly a sword like Brook’s.

Yes, she could admit Law looked very handsome, but it was a shit disguise. For god’s sake, he was still wearing his hat!

“You think some colored contacts and dying your hair is enough to fool people?” she said, exasperated. “You’re a Supernova; your wanted poster’s one of the most recognizable this side of the Grand Line. You didn’t even bother to cover up your tattoos!” she shrieked, pointing at his hands.

He seemed genuinely surprised at her criticism. “You think I should wear gloves, then?”

Nami could have screamed. She’d expect that kind of answer from Zoro or Luffy, not a man who prided himself on his intelligence. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him into the room, pushing him down into the chair by the mirror and snatching off his hat, tossing it onto her pillow. His lanky figure looked almost comical in the too-small seat, long legs sticking out awkwardly. “Stay there. You’re going to wear gloves, but if you need to take them off for some reason, we want those things covered.” Squeezing out some foundation into her palm, she mixed it with some bronzer until the shade matched his skin tone. “Hold out your hands.”

“I don’t care for being ordered around, Nami-ya,” he growled in warning. “Keep it up, and you’ll regret it.”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of getting caught and thrown in jail because you didn’t think the Marines would be suspicious of a guy with DEATH tattooed on his fingers.”

Though he didn’t look happy, he conceded her point, hands steady and still as she applied the makeshift concealer. Definitely the hands of a surgeon, she thought, admiring his natural control. It was comparable to her own when she picked a lock or drew a map; not so much as a tremor, even when under intense scrutiny. Pleased that the black ink was sufficiently covered, she quickly spritzed on some setting spray and finishing powder, hoping the foundation wouldn’t rub off inside the gloves.

Inspecting his face, she then tilted the captain’s chin up, dabbing some concealer under his eyes.

“The fuck are you doing, woman?” he snapped, jerking his head back as if she’d slapped him.

“Covering up those massive bags under your eyes.”

“The hands were one thing, but I’m not letting you put makeup on my face. Besides, I like the world knowing that I’m tired of its shit and ready to kill at any moment.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s totally the mindset of a respectable, non-pirate doctor,” she sassed, jutting out her hip in annoyance. “It’s not like I’m turning you into a drag queen; just covering up some of your more recognizable flaws.”

His brow twitched at the insult. “I’ll be wearing a mask, so why does it matter?”

“You can still see under your eyes, and they might make you take off the mask at check-in. Are you really willing to risk your ‘perfect’ plan because your fragile male ego can’t handle a little cover-up?”

“Oh, just listen to her, Captain,” Ikkaku chimed from her bunk, the Cheshire cat grin on her face declaring to them both that she was mostly getting involved for her own amusement. “Nami’s the infiltration expert here, and you’re the one who insisted she come with you. Just suck it up.”

“You’re fired,” he snapped, pointing at her sternly as he once more dodged Nami’s attempt to dab him with the sponge.

“You’ve fired me six times since I joined, and I’ll tell you the same thing I always do—get rid of me, and Shachi’s the most qualified person to touch up your tattoos. You want that?”

Law shuddered. “Fine, you’re not fired, but you’re on kitchen duty for a month.”

“Eh, fair enough. Now be a good boy and let Nami tart you up.”

His glare could have melted steel, but he stopped resisting as the navigator carefully covered up the proof of his insomnia. Nami had to admit, she was impressed; Ikkaku hadn’t been kidding when she said she had no fear of the Surgeon of Death. It was also nice to see someone else backtalk him, as most of the time the Heart Pirates seemed to worship the very ground he walked on. It made her feel less like the enemy.

As the dark circles disappeared, she had to admit, she kind of missed them. Even though they could make her tired just by looking at them, they were distinctive and a major part of his normal appearance, and he just looked so different without them. Younger, maybe, and less mysterious.

Normal. Boring. Just…not Law.

Sensing her scrutiny, he raised a dark eyebrow. “Something on my face, Nami-ya? I mean, besides the makeup.”

Suppressing a blush at having been caught, she replied, “Just trying to figure out if you need any highlighter or lipstick. I’ve got a lovely flamingo pink—”

“Try it and Mugiwara-ya will have to find a new navigator,” he snarled, the hard look in his eye and the openness of the threat sending a shiver down the spines of both women.

Not willing to risk her life just to embarrass a man, Nami backed away, hands raised in surrender. Relieved that he wouldn’t be subjected to any more of her powders or creams, Law inspected himself in the mirror, lips twisted in a grimace as he studied the difference it made to his face. Nami couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed at the indignity of it all or the fact that she’d clearly been right, but grey eyes flicked to his messy black hair.

“I guess the hat did clash with my outfit, huh?”

“To say the least.”

Without a word, he grabbed her hairbrush and began combing it back into something a bit neater and more respectable, even as Nami groused, “Don’t use my things without asking.”

“Fine. May I use your brush?” he asked, not even glancing at her as he kept brushing.

“No, you may not,” she snapped petulantly.

“Oh, dear. Whatever shall I do, then?” he chuckled, tossing it back on the vanity, smirking at her grinding teeth. His mood was infinitely improved now that he was back in control, and while Nami appreciated not having to worry about being dismembered, a minute part of her wished he’d go back to sulking. “Best get that anger out now, Nami-ya. Once we’re on the island, it’s all smiles.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

Getting out of the chair, he smirked down at her, pleased to once more have the height advantage so he could both figuratively and literally look down on the Straw Hat thief. “No, I’m enjoying this. What I’ll love is watching you try to keep that cute little temper of yours in check while we’re in public.”

“Asshole.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

A small vein throbbed on her temple. “Call me sweetheart again and there won’t be enough makeup on the Grand Line to cover up the bruises I’ll give you.”

“What an abusive girlfriend I have. I hope you at least kiss them better.”

“You wish. And if you’re going to be this much of an absolute prick all night, I’m charging you ten million belli per hour.”

“You want me to pay you to be my date? I wasn’t aware prostitution was part of your repertoire.”

“Congratulations; it’s now fifteen million.”

Ikkaku eagerly watched their back-and-forth like a particularly intense tennis match, grinning the whole time.

She didn’t feel particularly sorry for her captain or her roommate; both knew what they were getting into, provoking the other like that. No, she pitied the poor party guests, who had no idea what kind of unholy terror they were about to face.

Ah, to be a fly on the wall.

XXX

Tokken Island was one of the lushest and most beautiful little islands on the Grand Line, but the majority of the land was owned by Baron Harpin, forcing the port town to desperately cling to a jagged shard of the coastline while his enormous mansion and manicured grounds dominated the rest. Luckily, there were plenty of rocky outcrops and sea caves ideal for hiding the Polar Tang, and after teleporting his crew into position, the well-dressed pair made their way through the town.

“And why couldn’t you have Shambled us there or whatever it is?” Nami groused as she nearly stumbled for the third time. She was an expert at maneuvering in high heels, but that didn’t mean she was immune to the inherent dangers of cobblestone streets, especially ones so torn up.

Law chuckled as she finally accepted his proffered arm for support. The stubborn woman had refused to endure and physical contact with him until absolutely necessary, but it seemed the threat of a broken ankle before they could even get to the mansion had finally won her over. “My abilities take a lot of energy, and I’d rather save it in case we need to make a quick escape. Besides, I don’t want people getting suspicious if we pop up out of nowhere.”

She grumbled under her breath that he was probably doing it just to annoy her, even if, logically, he had a point. Wrapping her arm around his bicep for balance, she was finally able to turn her attention from the uneven road to the state of the town itself. Only about half the lanterns were lit, and what illumination they did give didn’t paint a very pretty picture.

The houses were run-down, roofs thatched haphazardly and some windowpanes packed with paper or rags instead of glass. The shops weren’t much better off, the display windows showing off rough-looking fishing supplies, underripe fruit, and cheap clothing. Only a few people were out, most looking worn-out or underfed, and those that didn’t stare at the pair of well-dressed pirates with envy watched them with hunger.

“If the Baron’s so wealthy, why’s the town in such a sorry state?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, just setting up this gala should have brought plenty of business to the port. Docking fees, restocking supplies, even sailors picking up cheap souvenirs—”

“There’s a private dock on the mansions’ grounds that he uses for deliveries and the like,” Law answered, barely sparing a glance at a skinny woman hoarsely calling out to passersbys, a basket of small trinkets thrust out towards them. “None of his business comes to the town—plus, he owns most of the farmland, so any crops are considered his property. All that’s really left is fishing, and the guy’s notorious for hating seafood, meaning these folks are shit out of luck.”

Biting her lip, Nami looked towards the woman again, freezing as a small child, yellow hair tied in twin pigtails down her shoulders, poked her head out from behind her frayed skirts. The little girl looked marginally less skinny than her mother, and without even thinking, the thief broke away from Law to inspect the woman’s wares. It appeared to be mostly jewelry—nothing particularly fancy but in the warm light of a nearby streetlamp she could tell it had been carefully made with decent materials.

“What are you doing?” Law hissed, looking around to make sure they weren’t drawing too much attention—most of the Baron’s guests wouldn’t lower themselves to pass through the slums like this, but he’d didn’t want to take any chances. That, and he wasn’t entirely sure there weren’t villagers desperate enough to try and mug them. He’d rather avoid a fight this early in the evening, and he didn’t want to get his nice, new suit dirty.

Ignoring him, she picked up a simple gold chain with a pendant made of four gemstones. They were beautifully polished, the marquise-cut purple tourmaline the color of the sky at sunrise. Their arrangement was reminiscent of Polaris, or perhaps the compass on her maps. “This is lovely,” she commented. “Is it locally made, or imported?”

The woman hastily explained, “My husband was once the Baron’s personal jeweler. He made beautiful pieces, but they were too simple for the Baron’s tastes. He wanted to impress lady callers, and demanded gaudier jewelry without providing the proper materials,” she said sourly. “My husband got sacked, and I’ve been trying to sell these off for a while. The necklace is 6000 belli on its own, or you can make me an offer for the set?” she said hopefully, indicating the matching ring and earrings in the worn basket, their delicate star designs winking in the dim light.

Immediately Nami could tell this woman hadn’t had any luck for a long time. The quality of the gems alone showed she was drastically underpricing the pieces. It was doubtful anyone in town could afford luxuries like jewelry, and if the Baron monopolized all the outside business at his own port, she probably never even saw other potential clientele. She was probably only even trying her luck now out of desperation. After all, you can’t eat gold, and with a small child to care for, any amount of belli would do.

“It would look really pretty on you,” the little girl murmured politely, large, purple eyes watching her in wonderment. Nami was certain she was the closest thing to a princess the child had ever seen, dressed in finery and on her way to an exclusive party at the glorious mansion on the hill. A real-life Cinderella, something out of a fairy tale she’d use to comfort herself on cold, hungry nights.

Nami had certainly been in those shoes, long ago, and she’d never been able to turn her back on a child in need. Her eyes were even the same color as the tourmaline in the basket.

Well, damn, she thought with a rueful smile. Poor kid could use a fairy godmother. Or at least a Cat Thief.

Pulling a black leather wallet out of her cleavage, she said, “I’ll take the set. How does 30,000 belli sound?”

Law’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened in recognition, immediately patting his pockets to confirm his suspicions. Coming up empty, he glared bitterly when the saleswoman replied, “Tha-that’d be perfectly fine!”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Law grumbled as Nami pulled out some bills, handing them over with all the care of a woman who was fine spending money that wasn’t hers.

The thief matched his glare, tossing him the wallet. “What kind of boyfriend wouldn’t lavish his lover with jewelry?” she huffed, giving the child staring at her with blatant adoration a conspiratorial wink.

“What kind of girlfriend pickpockets her lover’s wallet?” he countered, checking the contents to make sure he was only out 30,000 belli. Satisfied that the rest of his cash was safely in place, he glanced at the little girl, his scowl faltering as his eyes fell on the awestruck face of the little girl. Quickly, his gaze darted back up to the woman who wronged him, glaring like a basilisk.

Fluttering her eyelashes, Nami replied, “The kind who knows just how generous her lover is,” she quipped before turning back to the jewelry seller to collect her purchase. For a moment, a pair of gold barrettes inlaid with clear stones—possibly diamonds, again in the marquise cut—caught her eye, but she knew better than to swipe Law’s wallet twice in one night. So, reluctantly, she only took her purchase, patting the little girl on the head in farewell. When the kid bobbed a curtsy in response, Nami couldn’t hold back her giggle, returning the gesture.

That kid’s going to have one hell of a story to tell her friends tomorrow, she thought cheerfully, jogging slightly to catch up with Law, who’d been less than the image of a handsome prince by storming off up the road without her.

Joining her date, she rolled her eyes in exasperation at the dark scowl on his face. Even without his hat, his black bangs cast ominous shadows over his eyes. He was walking even faster now, and she had to work to keep up with his long strides. It was petty, petulant revenge against the woman who had dared to get the better of him. “Are you mad that I took your wallet, or that you didn’t even notice?” she taunted lightly.

Even from the corner of his eye, his hawk-like glare made goosebumps rise across her shoulders. “I’m mad because you wasted our time and my money,” he snapped. “I already bought you your dress, mask, and wig. My ‘generosity,’ as you put it, has its limits.”

“I’ll pay you back,” she ground out, refusing to feel guilty for her actions. That little girl’s smile had been well worth the price of Law’s irritation, but she also knew she had to appease his anger if they were going to pull off their grand scheme. When he scoffed, she added reluctantly, “With interest.”

“Why’d you even bother?” he asked, indicating the jewels in her hand.

Pulling him to a stop under one of the streetlights, Nami switched her original earrings out for the bejeweled ones. “It’s for the cover. I’m supposed to be a rich doctor’s arm-candy, and my boring pearls would have looked way too simple, especially with this dress. With these, I’ll blend in better.”

“You could have just stolen them.”

She frowned at him, genuinely offended. “I steal from pirates and rich idiots who can afford it. Did you see that woman? I’d bet all the treasure on the Sunny that any money she got went to feeding her kid. I’m not going to even haggle with someone in that kind of situation.” A soft, sad smile graced her lips. “My mother did that. Claimed she was on a diet when she really couldn’t afford to feed all three of us.”

There was a moment of silence as she turned away from him, hoping to collect herself before she started bawling at the memory of Bellemere’s sacrifices. Silently, she thanked her adopted mother, willing back the stinging sensation of tears forming behind her eyes. Ruining her makeup before they even arrived at the gala would do them no good. Besides, Law would probably have some kind of smart-ass comment about it.

The refusal to let her temporary captain see her so weak, she brushed away her sadness to focus on her new jewelry. Slipping on the ring, she admired how it gleamed under the warm lamplight. It was a tad too big, fitting most comfortably on her middle finger, but she found the style suited her. She might even wear the set on a night out sometime; maybe to celebrate tonight’s success. Assuming the plan didn’t go to shit, that is.

She jumped when he finally responded, “I hate to say it, but that does look good on you.” When she turned her head, she couldn’t fight the sudden blush that spread across her cheeks. Worryingly, she couldn’t tell if it was due to his sudden, intimate proximity or the small, appreciative smile lifting his lips. Such an expression seemed too gentle for the famed Supernova, and yet she found she rather liked the way it softened and relaxed his features. “You’re surprisingly soft-hearted for a pirate, though.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, struggling to maneuver the tiny clasp through her thick wig. Suddenly having so much hair was a real pain, and she wondered how she’d ever manage if she grew her own hair out. Short was more practical, after all, and looked cute on her to boot.

“Here, let me help,” his smooth voice whispered in her ear, and she felt her curls carefully gathered to rest over her shoulder. Nimbly, he took the necklace and fastened it securely around her neck. Tingles ran down her spine as the smooth leather of his black gloves brushed her bare skin, and the whole thing felt strangely intimate. Turning her around, Law studied his date. The pendant rested just above the dip of her bountiful cleavage, sparkling invitingly. “I’m pretty sure it’s still too simple for this crowd, but it works better than the pearls.”

Her reply was cut off by the curls she’d pinned up tumbling into her face, only to be swept back into place, secured by his deft fingers. He cupped her chin, appraising his work before nodding. Suspicious, because Trafalgar Law’s approval was never a good thing in her mind, she reached up to touch her hair, russet eyes widening when she felt gemstones instead of pearls. Head snapping back to look at the mother and daughter, her jaw dropped when she saw the little girl holding a wad of bills, beaming even more brilliantly than before while the saleswoman looked close to tears.

Turning to her partner in crime for the night, Law responded with a nonchalant shrug, though she could see his grey eyes soften as they lingered on the child excitedly waving back at them. “The pearl clips didn’t match the rest, and if we’re going to pull this off, we’d best go all-out. Plus, that cash’ll ensure their silence should they be questioned by the authorities later. I’d rather your kindness not get us identified.”

It was all very logical and well-thought-out and total bullshit. Nami had to smile as she once again took his arm, matching his easy gait as they made their way up towards the mansion. “Right. Because I’m the soft-hearted one.”

“You’re paying me back for those, too, by the way,” he quipped, smirking at her annoyed growl.

Before she could argue, he halted; the brilliant lights of the mansion were in sight, and small groups of well-dressed guests were gathering at the ornate front gate. It was time to stop being Cat Thief Nami and the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law, bickering pirates, and become a loving couple. Gently as a forest stream, Nami adjusted her body language, leaning comfortably against her partner, hand clutching his bicep possessively, face switching from a seething scowl to the deliriously happy grin of a woman pathetically enamored with her companion.

For his part, Law seemed to morph into his role just as fluidly, posture straightening into something more refined, his smile relaxed and charming; perfectly playing the part of a man who knew he was smart, good-looking, successful, and could easily use all that to get a woman as beautiful as the one on his arm.

Inside, Nami groused that he had the way easier acting job.

As they made their way up the mansion’s long, winding front path, crushing artfully sprinkled rose petals beneath their feet, Law slipped on a raven mask, the sharp beak curving over his nose and the shiny black feathers fanning out like little spikes over his cheeks and forehead. Nami was grateful she’d covered up his dark circles—the eye holes were definitely wide enough where they would have been distinctly visible.

In contrast, her mask was modeled after a cat, the color and leopard spots mimicking her gown perfectly. It flawlessly concealed the upper half of her face, while the large eyeholes showed off her beautiful eyes and wouldn’t block her sightline too badly.

Approaching the doorman, Law handed over their invitation, smirking when the servant checked it against the guest list before nodding, ushering them both inside. Another servant led them down an extravagantly decorated front hallway. The doctor hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the Baron was an art collector with expensive tastes; masterpieces in gold frames hung along the walls, marble statues and painted porcelain vases were displayed on opulent pedestals, and even the crimson rug beneath their feet was luxuriously soft.

Nami had to briefly bury her head against Law’s shoulder to hide the belli signs that sparkled in her eyes.

Eventually, they reached the ballroom, and as they waited to be announced, Law affectionately brushed his lips across her hair. “Ready for some fun?” he murmured, his tone affectionate but the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips screamed of devilish intentions.

She mirrored his smile and tone, eager to line her pockets and relish in luxury for a while before the real job began. “Absolutely.”

As the ballroom doors opened, the servant next to them announced them to their fellow guests.

“Presenting Dr. Goodheart Adrian and his escort, Ms. Chaton Bellemere!”

[thewritewolf]

Inseparable Chapter 10: Disguises

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@ladynoirjuly2019

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien opened the package that had arrived for him, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the clothes he had ordered. The online store had cut it about as close as possible; if this outfit hadn’t arrived today, he’d have to meet Ladybug in something from his usual wardrobe. While the Agreste line is (generally) good, it is not inconspicuous.

“Hey, kid. You still freaking out about this date or what?” Adrien looked up to where Plagg was sitting on the upper level of his bedroom, gnawing at his camembert in what was a leisurely pace for the kwami.

“It’s not a date, Plagg.” Although he wished it was. “We’re just spending some time together outside of our superhero duties. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” His voice got closer as he flew over to Adrien. “Looks like a lot of fussing and fidgeting for something that’s ‘just spending time together’, kid.” He shoved the remainder of his cheese wedge in his mouth. “If you want my advice-”

“I really don’t.”

“-then I’d say you should just relax. It’s not like Ladybug can think of you as any bigger a dork.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien drily commented. “But I need this to go well if she’ll ever agree to do it again. This might be my one chance to just have a relaxing day with her - no patrols, no superheroics, no villains. Just me and her, eating ice cream and talking.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’ll be fine, kid.” When Adrien continued to pace and wring his hands, Plagg flew in front of him. “Hey. Listen to me: You don’t need to worry. You and Ladybug are already friends - you’re closer than you think you are.” Plagg smirked, as if there was a joke only he knew about. “Now just calm down. It’s still a few hours before your date or whatever you want to call it.

Taking deep breaths, Adrien reigned himself in. “You’re right. I bet Ladybug isn’t freaking out like I am.”

“That’s the spirit, kid. Now onto more important matters - like my camembert.”

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

“Tikki!” Marinette whined. “What am going to wear when I meet up with Chat?”

Traditionally, Marinette could send pictures to Alya and get feedback about her outfit, but how would she explain what it was for this time? She didn’t want to lie to her best friend any more than she had to, and this definitely didn’t fall into the necessary category. But that still left her without any moral support from her friends. Support which she was surprised she needed. And why did she?! It was Chat Noir! The person she trusted more than anyone, her best friend besides Alya! Why should she be so nervous for something so casual?

Tikki finally appeared in front of the mountain of clothing, tiny forehead creased in concentration. “You don’t intend to wear all of this… do you?”

The idea was almost appealing, if it at least meant she could decide on something. But no matter how chilly the autumn evenings were getting, arriving in seventeen layers, including four scarves and three hats, would be out of place.

“I’m just teasing, Marinette. Let’s make a few outfits out of this and see which one we like best, okay? We’ll take it one step at a time.” With Tikki patiently helping Marinette decide on what she wanted, they ended up with three complete outfits. “Okay, now - which of these speaks the most to you?”

Marinette ran her eyes over all of them, but it was the middle one that she kept turning back to. She placed a hand on the black fabric of the hoodie - she remembered fruitlessly searching for a good Chat Noir themed hoodie months ago, but none of them really did her partner justice. So she’d bought a black hoodie and made her own, with the cat ears sewn on the hood, and the word, ‘Meowvelous’ embroidered onto the chest. It made her smile to look at, since she knew how much he would love to see it.

The rest of the outfit was just as good, even if she didn’t have a hand in making it - a long skirt, a baseball cap, and the Chat Noir sunglasses. The lime green scarf she did make, a sister piece to the one she had given Adrien.

“Looks like we have a winner,” Tikki said from beside her.

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

“You look radiate as usual, my lady.”

Marinette turned around to see Chat Noir standing at the other end of their meeting place, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Great minds think alike, chaton.”

Just like how Marinette was wearing a Chat Noir-themed outfit, Chat Noir was wearing a Ladybug-themed outfit. The red hoodie with spots was a given, but the little antennae on the hood were just adorable. Combined with baggy jeans - which she noted was held up by his leather tail - and a red beanie concealing his ears, he looked exactly like what Chat Noir would be like outside the mask. Just a relaxed, sweet boy.

Just as she had that thought, he pulled out a pair of sunglasses adored with cartoon ladybugs and waggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, very cute, Chat.” She tapped his chest where his bell would be, satisfied at the muffled ring. “Where are we going?”

“I know this amazing little ice cream shop - and no, it’s not Andre’s. No magic except good ice cream with this place.”

“Mmm, the best kind of magic. Lead on.”

They landed in an alley not far from the shop and blended into the crowd. Although Marinette was constantly worried that someone would see right through their disguises, the ruse was working so far. Sure, they could have gone without their suits, but then there was the chance they’d have preemptively revealed themselves. The only risk here was causing a scene or having to sign autographs.

The bell over the door rang as they entered the shop and the first thing Marinette noticed was how few people were here. Besides the shopkeeper, there were a handful of customers spread across the store, leaving plenty of tables and booths open. Despite the emptiness of the room, there was an umbrella rack with a single old umbrella by the door. While Chat Noir was busy scanning the menu, Marinette stepped forward, already certain of what she wanted.

“Strawberry, please.”

Bowl in hand, she paid and found a booth to sit down at. Not long after, Chat Noir had dived into the bench opposite her and practically thrust his bowl under her nose.

“Look! They put chocolate chips in the MINT ICE CREAM!" He grinned with excitement.

She raised an eyebrow at him, even as she fought down a smile. "I see. You're one of those people."

“What?” He said defensively. “I don’t get to enjoy ice cream a lot, so I like to experiment when I get the chance.”

“If you say so.” She took a bite of her delicious strawberry ice cream. “Meanwhile, I’ve got it figured out. I’ve already found the best there is.”

Chat Noir chuckled as he ate. “Whatever you say.”

A few minutes of quiet descended on them as they became absorbed with the ice cream. No wonder Chat had been so insistent upon coming here - it was some of the best she’d had. The silence didn’t last forever, and soon enough they were back into bantering, dancing around any serious topic of conversation. A pun of his landed just right, and she shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous, Chat.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said proudly. “Until we’re old and grey.”

She poked at her ice cream, frowning. “Do you think we’ll be at this for that long?”

“I… honestly don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it.”

“We’re no closer to beating him now than we were a year ago. And what happens when he’s gone? Will that be it, or will someone - heck, something - just pop up to replace him?”

Nodding sagely, Chat replied, “Superheroes invite a challenge, naturally creating more supervillains.”

“That would sound more profound if I didn’t know you took it from either the Avengers or the Incredibles.”

“Ooo, my lady! I didn’t know you were such a movie fan. How do you feel about…” he leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows, “...Romance?”

She pushed him away by his nose. “Not a big fan. I mostly like Disney and Pixar. I play them in the background while I… work.” Design work, specifically, but Chat already got his hint for the night. It wouldn’t be good to make it too easy for him.

They launch into a new conversation about movie preferences and quickly discover that they can add that to the list of things they have in common. Excluding Chat Noir’s love of romantic comedies.

“Then maybe the next time we hang out, we could make it a movie night?” Chat poked at his half melted ice cream while he said it, furtively glancing up at her. The implication was clear - if they had a next time.

While she thought about it, she noticed that two men had entered the store. They were hovering near the counter, the bulk of their bodies concealing what was happening from view. All she could see was the shopkeeper, looking very pale and eyes fixed on something that Marinette couldn’t see. Chat Noir followed where she was looking and his bashfulness faded away, replaced by a cold glare.

“After you, my lady.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

No Fear Within Me

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader

As requested by anonymous:  I could ask for a request where the reader has never had a love relation or only broken hearts. She begins to feel seriously lonly (It's me, lol). One evening she decides to go to buy to herself some candy and meeting on Eddie. Loves at first sight (for her) but when Venom appears, she is not afraid and they decide to return her at her home and they eventually spend everything them three the night together discussed (I know not so it is very clear and I apologize for my English X)

A/N: please note, I still haven’t seen Venom soooo this just might be so inaccurate and I’m not too familiar with Eddie...also I changed the prompt a bit.

You were in a particularly poor mood. You were feeling a lot lonely than usual and watching Rom-Coms definitely wasn’t helping. You didn’t know what else to do. After noticing that you were running low on snacks, you decided to go to the convenient store across the street from your apartment building. 

You threw on some jeans, tshirt, and hoodie, and walked out with your comfy slides on your feet. You crossed the street and greeted the old Chinese woman that ran the store, “Good evening, Mrs. Chen!” she gave you a smile and waved.

You went up and down the aisle, filling your basket with a variety of candies and snacks. You then looked in the cold drink section to see what cheap bottles of wine you should get. 

“That one’s the best for a convenience store wine.” you look up to see a tall man, wearing a grey hoodie. You must’ve had a confused look on his face because he clarified himself, “I’ve tried all these bottles at least once for as long as I’ve been here and that,” he pointed to the bottle again, “is the best I’ve tasted out of all of them.”

You chuckled and opened the door, plucking the bottle from the shelf, “This one it is then.”

The man offered his hand out to you, “I’m Eddie. I’m a journalist.”

“I’m Y/N, a boring IT at Life Foundation.”

That sparked an interest in him, “Life Foundation, huh? You meet Dr. Carlton Drake?”

You shrugged, “Only once in passing. He probably doesn’t even remember me. He’s a bit of a dick if I’m honest.”

Eddie chuckled, “Yes, he is.” He followed you to the counter, but not before grabbing himself pack of beer, “Tried interviewing him once about testing pharmaceuticals. Never got to finish the interview. Touchy subject for him. Know about any of that stuff?”

You cocked a brow at him, “You trying to get some intel, Eddie?”

“Yes, and no. Quite frankly I was already thinking about asking you out for a drink before you even told me you work for Life Foundation.”

You chuckled, “Alright. Well, unfortunately, I have no information that’ll help you. However, the night is young. I have a bunch of free time and a lot of snacks. Maybe you’d like to come over to help me out with all this?” you gestured down to your basket.

He smiled at you, “I’d be happy to help out a person in need.”

After meeting Eddie that fateful night, you fell fast and hard. He was a very determined guy, wanting to spread truth through his work. He was persistent on convincing people that Dr. Carlton Drake was up to no good. You believed him. 

You two had been dating for two months now and you started to notice strange things about Eddie. You often found him talking to himself then moments later a crash can be heard. Eddie brushed off your concern saying that he was clumsy sometimes and would often talk to himself to get his thoughts together. 

You’d later come to find out the real reason for this behavior. 

You were relaxing in Eddie’s apartment when a SWAT team had come barging in. A man, not suited in SWAT gear approached, with his gun pointed at Eddie, “Dr. Drake would like his property back.”

“I-I-” his arm then transformed into something like a black vine, picking up one man and throwing him across the room, “Y/N, get behind me!” Eddie yelled as his limbs started uncontrollably picking up and slamming different men. You cowered behind Eddie, wondering how the hell he was doing all of this, thinking what the Hell he was.

After all the men were incapacitated, he cautiously turned to you, noticing your startled gaze, “Y/N, are you okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, but-but what the fuck, Eddie?! What the hell was that?!”

She’s being aggressive towards us. “No, stop! She’s not being aggressive! She’s in shock!”

“Eddie...what’s going on?”

Eddie’s ears perked when he heard the echoing of sirens, “We have to leave. We’ll go to your place and I’ll explain everything there.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re back home on your couch watching Eddie pace back and forth, “So, I got mixed in with Carlton Drake’s crazy bullshit and now I have this-this parasite in me and he’s,” he blew out from his mouth, “He’s crazy and violent and intense,” Am not, “Yes, yes you are!” he sighed, “Sorry, he’s being a bit defensive.”

“So this..parasite, it’s like another species or something inside you?”

Eddie nodded, “Yeah, basically. He talks to me. When I need him or call him, he’ll sorta take over.”

“Like the Hulk?” you asked teasingly.

He sat beside you chuckling, “Yeah, like the Hulk but less green, more black, and a helluva lot scarier.”

You reached over, your fingers grazing over his neck and collarbone, “Can I meet him?”

“Are you sure? He can be a bit..frightening.”

You cupped his face, “Eddie, he’s a part of you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide anything from me, especially something big like this.”

He nodded, “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Um,” he stood up, standing in a more open space in your living room, “Ready?” you nodded and he gave a deep breath before saying, “Mask!” 

Your eyes widened when his body transformed into a black, bulky alien looking thing, “Woah. Uh, hi? I’m Y/N. Do you-Do you have a name?”

“We are Venom.”

“Well, hi, Venom. You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” there was a beat of silence before Venom replied.

“No.”

“Do you like to hurt people, Venom?”

“Only those with malice intent.”

“Do you protect, Eddie?”

“...Yes.”

“If it were to ever come to it, will you protect me?”

“...Yes.”

You softly smiled up at him, “Is it alright if I have Eddie back now?” Venom nodded and started to invert itself back into Eddie.

He staggered a bit, trying to regain his balance, “So are we okay?”

You pecked his lips, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

[lalainajanes]

47 Not A Date + 100 Accidentally Saving The Day for @mashka-mashka. This turned into a superpowers thing.

Send me two (2) tropes from this list and I’ll combine them in the same story

The new guy is late.

Caroline had been pretty sure she was going to hate him – she’d been patrolling his assigned territory for weeks while the Bureau sifted through candidates and she wasn’t great at letting go – but his lateness has sealed the deal.

She has better things to do. A pack of medium competent bad guys was set to meet up at a warehouse smack dab in the center of her grid and she’d planned to eavesdrop, see just how far along their plans had come in the last week.

She jumps when a whoosh of air blows up the alley, bringing her bionic arm up defensively when a body drops next to her. His costume has no hood though his mask covers most of his face. The black leather is cut in such a way that it emphasizes just how nice his lips are.

Said lips curl at the corner and damn it, he must have noticed where her eyes are focused. She snaps her gaze to his face, nodding curtly. “Hurricane Hybrid? Nice of you to show up.”

His expression twitches to annoyance, “I’ve never been fond of my assigned code name. You can call me Klaus.”

Caroline gets that, has no love for ‘Beauty Machine’ but she’s not about to offer her actual name. Not to a Super she’s just met who she probably doesn’t like.

“I doubt I’ll have much cause to call you anything,” she tells him coolly. She pulls out her phone, angles it do he can see it. “I’m sure you’ve already studied the map but we’ll go through it quick.” He doesn’t seem offended by her brusqueness, if anything he’s grown amused. He edges closer to her, seemingly unafraid of her metal limb.

Which is odd. Most people shy away.

Caroline turns away from him, gesturing towards the mouth of the alley. “Here’s the Cliff Notes version, because I’ve got places to be. Your patrol area begins one block north. That’s where it bleeds in to mine. There’s a set of fairly skeezy clubs between us so I’ll holler on the off chance I need an assist. You can do the same. You’ll have to patrol south until you get to the river. Don’t go in it unless you’ve asked permission and offered something sparkly or you will get eaten.”

“Noted.”

“I’ve never met the guy who works the streets east of us. At least as far and I know. He does something wonky with time but I’ve never had much trouble come from that way so he must be good.”

To Klaus’ credit he seems to be listening, eyes trained on the map, his fingers zooming and scrolling as she speaks. “And to the west?”

“Stiletto Siren. I do not recommend pissing her off.”

“Mmm, her I’ve met.”

That must mean he’s as pretty as his lips promise under the mask. Katherine has very high standards. She huffs, exasperated. “Seriously? Then why am I doing the orientation? Or can you not keep it in your pants in her presence?”

Kat’s powers involved sending out heavy doses of pheromones, her special training had made her deadly accurate with blades. She could make anyone stupid with lust if she tried and even when she wasn’t sending out lust bombs plenty of people fell all over themselves in hopes of kissing her very expensive boots. Her relationships often end bloodily.

“I didn’t say our association was cordial,” Klaus says.

Huh. There’s no way Caroline will be able to leave that statement alone. She makes a mental note to grill Kat when they get brunch on Sunday.

He reaches out, his hand cupping hers, tipping the phone towards him a bit more. “My grid meets Katerina’s here?” he asks, pointing to the map. The censors in her hand note his temperature, that he’s warmer than average. Caroline wonders if she should warn him to stock up on soup, just in case he was about to come down with something.

But no, that would be weird.

Checking to see that he’s got the right street, Caroline nods. “Yup. Exactly. Think you’ve got it down?”

“It seems straightforward. Thank you for the introduction the neighborhood, love.”

Well, maybe he was better at being polite than the initial lateness had led her to believe. She offers him a small smile, “You’re welcome. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

She turns from him, launching herself up and catching a ladder embedded several feet up into the wall of the building. Her left leg’s enhanced too, and she might be showing off a little but taking the roofs to the little warehouse plotting session she needs to crash is the most efficient thing to do.

Caroline’s nearly on top of the building when his reply drifts up to her, barely a mutter. “I sincerely hope so.”

She sees him again a few days later. It’s daytime and some lazy jerk had thought taking an old lady’s purse was a smart idea. Caroline had been on her way into the grocery store when she’d heard the shrieking. She’d given chase, taking care to maintain a reasonable speed (using one's abilities in front of humans is generally frowned upon). Her target’s moving too fast for her to throw an illusion at him but Caroline’s beginning to gain. He takes a corner quickly and she hears a shout, a scuffle, just before she rounds the same bend.

Two men are on the ground, a tangle of furious limbs. The man she’d been chasing is on the bottom, a knife in his hand. The other man has a small cut on his arm, blood staining his grey t-shirt. Caroline darts towards them, gripping the robber’s wrist with her bionic hand. He howls as his bones crunch together, going still with the pain.

His eyes land on her, wide and fearful. “We’re going to let this nice man stand up and then you’re coming with me.”

“Bitch,” he hisses out.

She takes her first proper look at the Good Samaritan when he speaks, “Now that’s a bit uncalled for, isn’t it?”

Recognition hits her, the crisp inflection familiar, but Caroline double checks the lips that have shown up in her dreams lately, just to be sure. “Beauty,” he greets her warmly. “You’re just as lovely out of costume as you are in it.”

Caroline scoffs, “Wow, is now really the time for pickup lines?”

His head dips, dimples that she hadn’t been able to see last time appearing when he smirks, “I don’t suppose my timely assist might earn me your name?”

He reaches out when the creep they’d apprehended starts to struggle anew, his fingertips touching the man’s temple. She sees a faint spark and then he’s out cold, head lolling on the pavement. Caroline drops the wrist she’s been gripping, “I had him. Didn’t actually need you’re assistance.”

Klaus climbs to his feet, brushing dirt off his jeans, “I thought you might say that.”

She remembers his bloody arm when he winces, stretching it out and trying to look. The angle isn’t great and Caroline steps closer, steering him so she can have a look.

Because it’s the right thing to do, not because she’s concerned.

She doesn’t think it’ll need stitches but she can’t be sure until the bleeding slows. Caroline fishes a pack of Kleenex out of her bag, rips the plastic away with her teeth and presses it to her wound. “I’m going to squeeze,” she warns him. “It’ll hurt a bit.”

He nods tightly, jaw clenching. “I’m ready.”

He grunts slightly when her hand wraps around his bicep and Caroline applies pressure. She rips the rest of his sleeve away, setting her thumb to the pulse at his elbow, takes a second to sift through the info her sensors send her. “Your vitals seem fine. Elevated temperature though.”

“It always is.”

“Probably a benefit,” Caroline jokes. “Chicago winters are cold. I spend a fortune on fluffy socks.”

“I’d gladly offer my services once the temperature drops,” he teases.

She throws him an unimpressed look, though she has to make an effort not to smile. “So selfless,” she mutters.

“I’m not. At all. I’ve actually been hoping you’d turn up. I could use a little help with something. Bit of an issue down at those skeezy clubs.”

She eyes him for a moment, trying to judge his sincerity. He doesn’t squirm under her eyes, bears her scrutiny patiently. “I guess I can be neighborly. Tonight?”

He eases a little closer, his boots brushing her toes. “It’s a date,” he says.

“Not a date,” Caroline counters immediately. “But you can call me Caroline.”

It’s 100% not a date. Still, Caroline believes in being prepared. She’s totally going to wear good underwear under her suit though.

[kimjongdaely]

Gambling [Chapter 2]

Mafia!AU

Pairing: Xiumin x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual situations

Summary: After his ruined wedding, Kim Minseok puts all his time into his mafia to distract from the heartache. That’s when he finds himself in a deal with you. The deal is simple: whoever falls in love first, loses.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Epilogue

The sun makes you scrunch up your face as you burry yourself deeper into the sanctuary of the blankets. You can hear birds chirping outside.

There’s shuffling beside you.

Cracking an eye open, you almost scream, falling backwards and you would’ve been on the floor if not for Xiumin holding you steady.

“Whoah there,” he says with a sly grin. “Sorry I scared you, princess.”

You can’t help but shiver at his husky voice, fresh from sleep. His hair is messy, his suit jacket discarded and the white dress shirt underneath is half-unbuttoned. God why does he have to look so good—

You dismiss the thought immediately as you glare at him. “I can’t believe I spent the night here.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I can’t believe you just went to sleep like that.”

“What?” You tease as you stand, stretch, before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. “Did you honestly think I would have sex with you? I don’t do sex on the first date, baby.”

“Honestly,” you can hear his voice from behind the door, muted slightly. “I wasn’t expecting you to. That would’ve been way too easy.”

You almost snap the plastic hotel toothbrush in half with his mocking voice. He is so annoying.

“By the way,” he starts. “Your phone rang at least seven times this morning. I bet it’s Sehun.”

You gasp, spitting out the foaming toothpaste into the sink, rinse, before sprinting back out, pushing past a laughing Xiumin to get to your phone. You scroll through all the missed calls, groaning. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Most likely.” Xiumin is still laughing. “But tell him we need to finish this game first.”

You scowl, dialing Sehun’s number in hopes he’s not too angry.  “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?”

So much for hoping he’s not too angry.

“I’m fine, Sehun.” You try to use your calm, authoritative voice to reassure him. “We just spent a night in a hotel—”

“You slept with him?” Sehun’s voice is incredulous through the phone.

“No!” You exclaim, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course not, Sehun. You know I would never do that.”

There’s a pause, and when he speaks, it’s considerably more calm. “…Good. I was actually scared for a second.”

You sigh. “I’ll be home soon, okay? See you soon.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?” Sehun asks, but before you could answer, Xiumin plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it against his ear.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’ll take her back.” He swiftly hangs up on Sehun.

Your jaw is touching the ground. “Y-You…You can’t just—”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He reassures gently, but his infuriating smirk is still on his face. “He can come kill me if I don’t deliver you home in one piece.”

You groan, imaging a car ride alone with him. You’ve had enough alone time with him for one day. “Hurry up then. I want to get home.”

“Alright, alright.” He picks up his suit jacket, slipping it back on. He leaves his dress shirt halfway unbuttoned, though, running a hand through his dark hair, knowing it drives you crazy.

God, just please let this be over soon.

“Hey, lighten up.” Xiumin says when the two of you are waiting for his car in the hotel’s lobby. You wonder why you agreed to this so easily. “I’m not going to eat you.”

“Haha.” You say sarcastically. “Men are wolves.”

“Right.” Xiumin tilts his head at you and smiles. “Then I suppose that makes women sheep?”

You growl, glaring at him. “I’m no sheep.”

“Of course not.” Xiumin chuckles lightly to himself, as if he just told a joke that only he understood. “You’re Raven.”

You can’t explain why he unsettles you so much. The churning in your stomach, the uneasiness you feel when you’re with him. Standing so close to him, shoulders barely touching, it brings back so many childhood memories. Holding hands and running through grassy fields, climbing trees together, laughing and giggling like best friends.

Shouts and screams.

Someone closing your eyes.

The smell of blood.

“Are you okay?” You jump, feeling his hand on your arm gently. You feel your heart pounding, suddenly feeling as if you can’t breathe.

His dark eyes are beautiful.

They suddenly make you want to cry.

“I’m fine.” You choke.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” Sehun does not look pleased as he scowls at you, arms crossed.

“Yes,” you start slowly, pushing past him. “But let me change first, please? Sleeping in this dress was not comfortable.”

You head to your room, slipping out of the dress you wore the night before and immediately grab some casual clothes consisting of a black tank-top and black jeans. “You can come in now.”

Sehun opens the door, taking the spot next to you on your bed. “He didn’t…do anything to you, right?”

“Yes, Sehun.” You roll your eyes sarcastically. “I’m a leader of the second biggest mafia in the country armed with guns and knives while dealing with drugs and casinos and I let a man take advantage of me. I thought you were smarter than that, Sehun.”

“I was just making sure!” He says defensively, his eyes suddenly wide. “I mean, you never know when you fall in love—”

“Me?” You cut in off incredulously. “With him? Please, you must be joking.”

“You can never be too sure, Raven.” The look he gives you makes you gulp.

“Never, Sehun.” You hiss, eyes narrowing as a wave of anger suddenly fills you, making your hands clench.

You can still smell the blood.

“Never.” You whisper again, just for good measure. You stand to leave, Sehun following you close behind. You make your way to the lobby of your base, watching your men bustle about busily like bees.

“Sehun.” You call and he leans in, listening intently. “Let’s host a party.”

“You spent a night with Raven and your head is still intact, I’m impressed.” Jongin says over sarcastically when Minseok arrives home.

“Nothing happened, Jongin.” Minseok groans as he heads to his room, his brother bounding behind him, unrelenting. “Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Jongin doesn’t move even when Minseok slips his clothes off. “I’m worried about you getting killed, hyung. Playing with her is dangerous. Fuck, everyone knows that!”

“And I told you I know. But that’s not going to stop me.” Minseok answers sternly when he changes into fresh new clothes. “I’m going to get that money no matter what.”

“I don’t think it’s worth it.” Jongin continues stubbornly, crossing his arms and scowling. “No, definitely not worth it.”

“It’s worth it to me.” Minseok says, ruffling Jongin’s hair like he used to when they were younger. “I want to do this for dad.”

Jongin looks almost shocked with the mention of their dad. Minseok hardly talks about him since he died when they were still very young, twenty years ago. The tenderness in Minseok’s eyes make it hard for Jongin to argue against. So he nods, giving in. If Minseok decides it’s worth it, who is he to argue with his calm, intelligent older brother?

“Besides,” Minseok flashes Jongin a grin. “Don’t you have something else to worry about?”

Jongin flushes, “I-I’m working on it.”

“I’d offer to help,” Minseok scrunches is nose, “but that might not be the best.”

Jongin laughs then, the most genuine laugh he’s had in a while. Ever since coming back, he hasn’t truly been happy. Minseok is glad that Jongin is slowly starting to loosen up, feeling as if things are finally slowly starting to click back into place.

There’s a knock at the door, which Minseok acknowledges with a firm, “Come in.”

“Sorry to bother you, Xiumin, Kai.” The man walks in, a black envelope in hand. “I found this at the door and it’s for you.”

He hands the envelope to Minseok. He nods, “Thank you, Chen.”

Chen smiles, bowing his head before leaving to go back to work. Minseok flips the envelope in his hands, finding his name in beautiful, gold cursive. The stamp that seals the contents makes his stomach flutter.

Lotteria.

He exchanges a look with Jongin who looks at the envelope curiously, waiting for Minseok to open it. He takes out the letter within, finding an invitation to a masquerade party that will be hosted the following night at Lotteria’s biggest casino.

Our second date, the letter writes in your handwriting.

Minseok finds himself grinning, amused.

A smart girl playing a smart game.

The air is thick with mingled breathes.

Minseok shows the bouncer his invitation, slipping inside the party easily. He wears all black today, not unusual—but he knows you will be wearing black, and he wanted to match you. The mask that covers his face is midnight blue, gold and azure patterns swirling around it elegantly.

The casino is filled with people. Happy shouts come when someone wins, groans when someone loses. Always someone winning, always someone losing. Life is but a game of risk.

In the darker corners he can hear content sighs and moans of loving strangers that are drowned out from the booming music that blasts into the enclosed place. Faces he will never remember are hidden under masks and pass by like ghosts.

His eyes search for you.

It’s not hard to find you, and perhaps you allow yourself to be found. He knows this, of course.

This is your game—you decide when he finds you and when he doesn’t.

When he touches your arm, you smile at him. Your mask hides all your features other than your eyes and your lips. His mask hides him well too—no one here can tell it’s the great Kim Minseok, EXO’s Xiumin standing right there in front of him.

But when you turn to meet his eyes, you can see him. You can tell right away it’s him without even a doubt.

You wonder why that is.

The game is starting to shift.

“Blackjack, I see.” His eyes are trained on the cards. You hum in reply.

“He’s going to lose.” You turn to resume watching a man play, years of working in a casino already telling you the outcome.

His cards are over 21. He loses.

“Amateur.” Minseok scoffs, his breath hits your exposed shoulder and you shiver. His arms wrap around your waist, his hot lips touching the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Let’s go somewhere else?”

You allow yourself to be pulled away. Minseok stops at the bar, his lips curled up into a smirk as he orders a drink for you and himself. “Let’s play a game.”

“Okay,” you rest your chin on your palm as you watch him carefully. “What game?”

“I guess one thing about you. If I’m right, you drink. If I’m wrong, I drink.”

You manage a laugh. “Fine.” You gesture towards him. “Go.”

He scrunches up his nose, pretending to think. Your heart is pounding along with the beat of the music, wondering what he could possibly say about you. You know he’s going to lose, yet you still find it exhilarating to play.

“You,” he leans in, his voice low and hot and velvety, “you’re going to let me kiss you.”

You blink, almost laughing, your mouth forming the word ‘what?’

But his lips are already on yours.

His lips move slowly at first, as if testing the waters and wondering if you might slap him. It’s sweet and innocent, like a high school boy kissing a girl for the first time and you almost sigh into it, but then it changes when his hands cup your cheeks and suddenly he’s everywhere and he’s kissing you so hard you can’t think. He’s hard and soft and rough and gentle and it’s making you want to cry. He tastes of wine and champagne and it’s so delicious and oh gosh.

He was right.

You let him.

The game has started to shift.

Previous Chapter│Next Chapter

Gambling Mini Masterlist

A/N: Yo this was fun to write! I hope you enjoyed it as much as me 😊 Why is it so hard to get notes these days? Please give me and my fics lots of love and tell me what you thought! Contact me if you want to be tagged!

Tags: @loser-dot-com @lis-redfox @momoxcy92 @xius-exos

Tell me if you want to be tagged!

©kimjongdaely

Talk to me!

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Clans: Chapter 1

Relationships: Mckirk

Characters: Jim Kirk, Leonard “bones” Mccoy, Sulu, Uhora, Spock, Christopher Pike, maybe more.

warning: there will be smut.

A/N: so this is my newest fic, and im super excited about it! Its sort of a mix of lore from Supernatural, cuz i love that show, crossed with the Star Trek characters. Basically Jim goes out on a hunting trip and gets himself into more then he can handle all too quickly. its going to be so much fun! So if you want give it a read and let me know what you think!! i would also love to give a super huge thank-you to @medicatemedrmccoy since this story was inspired by her and her amazing writing! BTW if y’all havent read her new “Bite Me” fic, you should, cuz y’all are missing out! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter one:

    Central Park. Dark, quiet, secluded, it was Jim's favourite place to hunt. At night he would lay in wait, taking cover in the even darker shadows of the trees, the thick coverage of the bushes, and stalk his pray in the night.     This night started no different then any other. As Jim silently glided across the damp grass, not a sound under his feet, he followed a young couple thorough the park. They couldn’t have been any older then twenty-five, the dark haired girl clinging tightly to her blond boyfriend as they laughed their way down the trail. Then Jim saw him, the haggard drunk stumbling through the park, emerging from the trees across from him.

    The man stumbled across the grass, cutting in front of the couple who had narrowly escaped an early death that night as Jim set his sights on a new prize. The young couple sidestepped the drunk and hurried out of the park, no longer in sight, but Jim's eyes remained on the plump man now so close to him. “Drunk,” he thought to himself, “always did taste sweeter.”

    He scanned the area with one quick glance, making sure it was just him and his prey left in the park, and slowly began emerging from his hiding place in the bushes. He could smell the man, he could smell the sickly sweet dripping off of him from the booze, and he couldn’t wait to get that taste in his mouth, it was all he could focus on. Then his moment came, the man turned his back to Jim, completely unsuspecting as Jim hunched readying to strike.     Before he could lunge and take what he so desperately wanted he was wrapped in several pairs of arms and a mask thrown over his face. He didn’t panic and calmly tried to remove himself from the arms encircling him, but found that for the first time in his existence his strength was useless, as every time he tried to move their hold tightened and his strength was failing him. Now he was beginning to panic, what creature had strength measurable to his, able to keep him easily at bay? Nothing he had ever encountered before.

    With no thoughts on what to do, he was dragged backwards and out of the park and roughly thrown into a car. They drove for what Jim felt was ages while they held him down with ease in the back seat, still masked. When they finally stopped and pulled him from the car he could smell the water, he could smell the rusting decay of old boats, the metallic tang of gutted fish, and before he knew what was happening he was thrown into a boat and being taken away from land.     Eventually they stopped, the boat docked, and Jim was once again being manhandled. He heard doors creaking open and when they passed through them Jim's senses went off the charts. Every smell was new, every corner they turned seemed to provide a new scent, and he was finding it extremely difficult to manage to even walk straight. But amongst all the smells that this place was holding around him, there was one scent in particular that Jim found himself completely attaching to. This one scent that he wanted more of, and more, it was almost addicting. In the back of his mind he registered another set of doors opening and he was pushed through, then forced to the ground and made to sit on his knees. The addicting scent had left Jim's nose, leaving him slightly impatient for more.

    His mask was finally ripped from his face and Jim found himself surrounded by men, ordinary men as far as he could tell, but their smell. It was something Jim had never come across, something that had him both confused and scared, and the strength they held was enough to drop his stomach to his knees. No man had ever been able to restrain him at all, let alone as easily as these ones had.

    The panic was starting to grow wild in his chest as he turned his head in all directions at the men surrounding him. While he found himself unmasked and unbound he took his chance to lunge at the closest man to him, letting out a gut wrenching snarl as he did, only to be effortlessly pushed back to his knees.

    “Wait here,” the gravelly voice of the man before him spoke, “our Lordship wishes to speak with you.”

    “Lordship…” he whispered to himself, then watched the man leave.

    Jim remained on his knees in the room, still surrounded by the odd smelling men. He wanted so bad to just bolt, use his speed and book it out of this place, but the strength in these men was something he found himself not wanting to mess with. If what he had seen already was as effortless as it seemed, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what they were capable of if they actually tried.     Finally the double doors opened again and Jim turned slightly back to see who was coming in this time. It was a tall man, dark hair, slightly tanned skin. He entered the room flanked by two more guys, one the man from before, and the second someone new. Jim noticed that he was wearing clothes that seemed a little old fashioned for modern day New York. Compared to Jim's ripped blue jeans and worn leather jacket, this guy’s dark suit pants and black puffed out top and tie made Jim look like he was homeless.     The very dapper man sauntered past Jim and sat in front of him in the chair that had been placed there by one of the men. Jim wanted to rip him open, he wanted to rip every person in this place open, no one ever dared touch him and this had already gone too far. He shifted, getting closer to the man with a snarl, but when he inhaled every muscle in Jim's body froze. That smell, it was the exact smell in the hallway that had Jim's senses in all kinds of trouble. It must be this man, he was the one who smelled so intoxicating to Jim, so much so that he had to hold his breath while in the mans presence.

    The man tilted his head at Jim's now frozen form, giving him a quick once over before crossing his legs and saying, “My men tell me you're having a hard time sitting still.”

    Jim quickly regained his composure and brought back his spiteful manor, though still held his breath, as he spat back, “Hard to comply when you’ve been kidnapped and held against your will.”

    “Don’t worry,” the man folded his hands in his lap, “we will set you free, I just wanted to talk.”

    Jim said nothing, just stared at the man, hard and cold before the man spoke again. “You’re a vampire, correct?”

    Jim merely flashed his fangs, wishing that he could sink his teeth into someone right now.

    The man chuckled, “Good, and in that case I have a request to ask of you.”

    “First you can tell me what you are!” Jim took one long smell of the room, the mans scent still taking hold of him as he wavered on his knees, trying to gather himself, “You can’t be human, you don’t smell human, in fact… I’ve never smelled anything like you before.”

    The man simply smiled, a dashing and effortless smile that had an almost instant effect on Jim. First his scent and now this. He then leaned forwards slightly and whispered, “We are werewolves.”

    “You’re… wolves?” Jim all but whispered, “That’s impossible, wolves have been extinct for centuries!”     “And yet here I sit,” he sat back with a smirk.     “Then why, all this time, have I been told otherwise?!”     The man took a breath before answering, ignoring Jim's seething glare, “Because as far as you or any other supernatural being is concerned we are extinct, wiped out. But on the contrary, we just made it seem that way. We have been here, on this island, thriving for centuries unnoticed by any other family or clan. It was the best way to keep our family safe after our quarrels with the shifters in the 1800’s”

    “So you’ve been here all these years and never left the island?” the man nodded and Jim scoffed, “Well that explains your dumb ass clothes.”

    One of the men to Jim's left took a step towards him and Jim immediately went on the defense, ready to attack. But the man merely held up a hand and the wolf backed off immediately.     The man looked back to Jim as he continued, “I personally have never left the island, but some of the other werewolves have. The only time we leave the island is to obtain food and nothing more, that is until last week when our cover became compromised.”

    “How?”

    The man ignored Jim yet again, leaning fully back in his chair and resting a hand on his chin, “Go now, return to your clan and tell your blood father I wish to speak with him, tomorrow night. My men will leave you unmasked this time so you will know your way back to my house. Inform him that this is a civil meeting, I only wish to discuss some matters that have recently arisen and see if we can come to an arrangement that will suit both of our families.”     “What matters?” Jim looked around the room confused, “What are you talking about?!     The man waved his hand at the wolves again and this time two came to grab each of Jim's arms, hoisting him off the ground and to his feet. The man spoke to the two men now holding Jim, “Take him back to the docks and let him go, and hopefully,” he shifted his eyes to make contact with Jim’s, “I will see you tomorrow.”

    Before Jim could say anything else he was being dragged, yet again, through the hallways of the house. He didn’t even bother to struggle this time, it was clearly useless. Instead he thought about everything that had happened to him that night. Wolves, actual wolves had kidnapped him, creatures he had been told, since his turning, were extinct. As far as Jim knew his family was the only supernatural clan in New York, and this opened up a whole new playing field, one in which he wasn’t sure where he stood and that scared him. For the first time in his vampire life he was actually scared.

    Quicker then his first time around Jim found himself at the docks. The wolves stopped their boat and tied off, two of them stepping onto the docks then turning back to Jim. “You’re free to go,” one of them said, and faster then they could blink an eye Jim was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ok, so just a short little intro...what does everyone think? more action to come i promise lol and if anyone wants to be tagged for future updates just let me know :)

Tags: @bi-e-ne

and @medicatemedrmccoy i already tagged you at the top of this one, but i didn’t know if you wanted to be tagged for the rest, so if not just let me know ;P

[rebootrevolution]

X-Men Novelization Ch. 45

Chapter Forty-Five

Kitty tried to remind herself that she wasn’t Kitty. Standing on the front lawn of the Institute in her blue and yellow uniform, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail that flowed from the back of her mask, she was Shadowcat.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t scared out of her mind. That thing, that Juggernaut, had torn through half of upstate New York and the first line of defense that the X-Men had: Jean, Scott, Logan--even Ororo. When Charles came out of Cerebro he told them that the others, the real X-Men, were lying in a field somewhere. Their first line of defense was gone, and the students would be the last.

Charles was ready to give himself up to that monster, but the students would have none of it. Scott told them before he left that any of them who wanted to hide in their rooms could and they wouldn’t be judged, but if they wanted to protect everything that Charles had given them this was the time to prove it. None of them were in their rooms now, although Bobby seemed like he couldn’t believe he was about to go into another fight so soon. His ribs were still wrapped up from the fight with the Brotherhood, but his ego couldn’t take it if everyone else jumped into the fight while he pissed himself in his room.

Kitty wouldn’t have judged him, though, and she questioned her decision to stand on the front lawn even as she stood alongside the others and heard the thundering steps of Juggernaut’s approach. They all stood shoulder to shoulder with Beast out in front of them ready to be the first to meet Juggernaut’s attack with an intensity Kitty had never seen in her professor. No. Shadowcat, damnit. She reminded herself of that yet again, and wondered if the Professor could hear her doubts from behind the students in his chair on the front steps.

“He’s coming,” Beast announced. They watched the front gate and saw the trees in the woods beyond rustle and fall. “Just remember the plan Cyclops and the others gave us time to formulate. Finding his weakness is an experiment. That’s all this is.” Beast lost some of his determination and spoke in a softer growl, as if to himself. “Just an experiment.”

Juggernaut erupted from the woods, chunks of pavement flying up from beneath him as he passed from the foliage onto the driveway. He crashed through the front gate as if it was not there at all. Shadowcat could hear the collective inhalation of herself and the other students, with Colossus’ upraised fists trembling next to her.

Beast went first, pouncing forward on all fours at breakneck speed to meet the threat. When he came upon Juggernaut he leapt onto the monster’s head and raked his claws along the back of his maroon armor. Juggernaut stopped and tried to snatch at Beast who became a blur of blue as he swung from Juggernaut’s tree trunk arms and around his waist, unleashing attacks all the while. Juggernaut screamed out in rage until finally catching an elbow in Beast’s head. Shadowcat’s professor soared through the air and through a statue that crumbled in his wake. He didn’t get up.

It was up to the students, and so far they were sticking to the plan. It was Kitty herself who asked Beast why they would not attack all at once and try to overwhelm Juggernaut with numbers.

“There’s no overwhelming this man,” Beast had explained. “Charles has a history with him, and he assures me that it’s only with our minds that we will stop him.”

So it was that they were to go one at a time, and Colossus was the first up. She saw his hesitation and put her hand on his back. “Go get him, big guy,” she said with as reassuring of a smile as she could muster.

“Da,” he said. “Da.”

The two goliaths ran straight into eachother, the resulting sound something like two semis colliding without either breaking. Colossus pummelled Juggernaut’s sides and Juggernaut returned the favor. Colossus was more defensive, blocking and throwing blows when he could. Juggernaut gave no mind to blocking, his swipes knocking Colossus from one side to the other. Colossus managed to duck a swing and stood up to give a full force uppercut that crunched into Juggernaut’s helmet, a dent forming where the punch landed as Juggernaut was lifted into the air and thrown back. Colossus heaved for breath and spat off to the side, a glob of blood spiraling from his mouth.

“Did he do it? Did our big Ruskie stop him?” Iceman asked from Shadowcat’s other side. The blueish ice armor that coated him gleamed in the sunlight, but Shadowcat could see the hope in his face.

The hope faded away as Juggernaut stood up and growled before shouting “Try it again! Just try that one more time!”

Colossus shouted something back in Russian that Shadowcat thought she could decipher as “What? I-I don’t speak English very well yet, I’m sorry!”

Juggernaut ran forward once more, only this time Colossus could do little to stop him. The monster wrapped a hand around Colossus’ punch and swung the metal mutant into the air, smashing him into the ground repeatedly as he unleashed screams of pure rage. Shadowcat was worried for her friend, but she found herself fixated on something else that she could not take her mind off of. Why did--

Iceman said “Oh, shit,” in recognition that he was next as Juggernaut dropped Colossus’ unconscious form. He took a few steps toward his target and pushed his hands forward to form a beam of blue that coated the monster in layers of ice. The ice just crumbled as Juggernaut continued forward, even as Iceman increased the amount he through at him. Through the slits in his dented helmet Shadowcat could see Juggernaut’s eyes turn toward Iceman, who said “Oh, shit,” once again upon seeing the gaze.

Wait a minute, Kitty thought. That dented helmet--why was he wearing a helmet at all?

“I think that’s it, Kitty.” She heard Charles’ voice in her head, following up on her line of reasoning. “I think you’re completely right. His helmet must be stopping my telepathic efforts. We have to get it off him.”

Iceman was changing his tactics, throwing the ice at Juggernaut’s feet instead of directly at him. The monster soon could not get a foothold, slipping on the ice and falling forward. Iceman laughed. “Oopsie!” he called out at Juggernaut.

That really pissed him off. When he arose, Juggernaut sprinted at Iceman with heavy steps that tore into the ground beneath him, shards of ice thrown up with each one. Rogue, Shadowcat, and Nightcrawler broke off into a circle around the two as Iceman tried to evade Juggernaut’s pummeling.

“It’s his helmet!” Charles announced into his student’s heads. “We have to remove his helmet!”

Iceman barely managed to form a barrier around himself as Juggernaut smashed down, breaking through it and crushing him into the ground. Rogue jumped onto the monster from behind, seizing on the moment of distraction to grab the exposed parts of his arm with her bare hands. Juggernaut flailed around trying to reach her on his back, and for a moment it looked as though Rogue may be able to stop him all on her own. He dropped to one kneed and elbowed Rogue off of him and it was the first sign of fatigue he had shown.

Rogue stood up and dusted herself off. Charles connected her thoughts to the others. “It is the helmet. If we can get that off he’s done for, and I think I can loosen the bolts.” Rogue ran at Juggernaut, who already seemed to have recovered from his moment of fatigue, and started to trade blows with him just as Colossus had. This time, however, the punches were focused at the seam of Juggernaut’s helmet and Shadowcat could see the bolts bouncing out of place as the helmet malformed.

Shadowcat and Nightcrawler locked eyes and nodded, both of them charging simultaneously. As Juggernaut was distracted trading blows with Rogue, Shadowcat and Nightcrawler tried to pull out the bolts that they could. The smell of brimstone filled the air as Nightcrawler teleported on every side of the monster tugging at the bolts as best he could with hands, feet, and tail alike. Shadowcat jumped onto the monster’s back and became intangible whenever he tried to grasp her. She found that she could phase the bolts right out of place when she grabbed at them. One, two, and then...three! Everything became a blur, a flurry of attacks and shouting, and the clouds of smoke that Nightcrawler left in his wake were filling the air around Juggernaut as the three mutants attacked him from every side. Charles urged them on, his words of encouragement ringing through their heads as they attacked. “You almost have him! By God, you’re almost there!”

It only took three seconds before Juggernaut had them all beat. He managed to snag Nightcrawler’s tail and threw him through a second story window of the mansion. His other hand curled around Rogue’s head and flung her into the air, her body making an arc out miles away into the distant woods. Unnerved by the disappearance of her teammates, Shadowcat lost her focus and felt Juggernaut grab her next by her leg and pitch her straight up into the sky.

Her stomach pressed into her diaphragm and she could feel her ponytail whipping at her shoulders as she rose higher and higher into the sky, the Institute grounds below disappearing beneath the blanket of clouds. She screamed every shred of profanity that she knew into the sky as she rose into it. She reached the top of her momentum and it was as though she hung there for an eternity, the cloudscape around her breaking the sunlight into a spectrum of every color. She felt herself dropping again and the beauty disappeared as she commenced to scream.

Everything below swelled in size and the grass below barreled toward her like a train at full steam. Some shred of training wiggled its way into her mind at just the right moment and she phased, the earth passing through her as all the light in her world disappeared.

[keywestlou]

WHERE'S ANGELICA'S KIDNEY?

Angelica needs a kidney!

I first became aware of Angelica Harris last November. I dedicated the title and opening topic of my 11/24/20 blog to Angelica’s problem. I also spent about 10 minutes discussing it on an afternoon talk show I was doing at the time.

I have 70,000 subscribers. Angelica has been beating the keys on Facebook and Instagram.

No kidney yet!

Her need was discovered in August. Doctors told her it could take up to 5 years for a match. Angela lucked out. Within one month a match was found in a California woman. Unfortunately, the donor had a history of kidney infections and the kidney turned out not to be usable.

Angelica is on the United Network for Organ Sharing. I believe the first match was discovered via the organization.

My message today. Lets move our asses! How I don’t know. Keep your eyes and ears open. Speak of Angelica’s problem with your friends.

We must find Angelica a kidney!

The Great Curfew Rebellion crumbled. I worried Key West was neither trained nor equipped to handle any curfew altercation that might occur New Year’s eve.

I was wrong. We all should be proud. The City also in backing what was obviously an unpopular restriction. Between the passing of the ordinance and its enforcement, the City seems to have accepted their responsibility. Good for them! We all live and learn. I congratulate the City on a job well done.

Curfew was 10 pm. Everyone off the streets by 10:30. Thousands of tourists out and about.

I didn’t think the police and other officials could do the job. It took till 11:10 for Duval to be empty. No problem. It got done. The time frame in enforcing the ordinance still slight.

The active protesters were young white men. One called a police officer a “Communist” while standing in front of Sloppy Joe’s at 10:30. He persisted in violating the ordinance. The police found him out and about again at 2:06 am and arrested him.

Arrests estimated at 6. Joe Walsh one of them. Joe Walsh a prominent person in Key West. Owner of several restaurants.

Restaurants were to close at 10. Walsh kept Fogarty’s open. Open in clear defiance. His outdoor restaurant was packed. Walsh was finally arrested following several requests that he comply.

Fogarty’s was the only restaurant that defied the 10 o’clock curfew.

Those arrested were taken to the Stock Island jail where they were fingerprinted and mugged. Violation of the curfew ordinance is a crime. A misdemeanor.

Some have way out concepts of what Key West actually is. Perhaps our fault in the way we advertise and the way we have conducted ourselves in the past.

One young man told a passerby that he came to “Key West because there is no rules.”

The protesters had a degree of organization when they wanted to openly defy the law. Unfortunately for them, so also did the police.

A group of young mainly white men created a human barrier at Sloppy Joe’s. They stood in the street at the corner of Duval and Greene facing down Duval.

The police came down Duval towards them on motorcycles. They in a straight line and close to each other also. Every 20 feet, the police stopped for a few minutes. Then continued for another 20 feet and stopped again. So they continued down Duval towards the protesters.

When the police and protesters were 10 feet apart, three mounted police officers entered upon the scene. They maneuvered the horses between the two and approached the protesters.

The protesters moved swiftly away from the horses. Then 2 City street cleaners entered Duval at Sloppy Joe’s and moved down Duval together. They are huge, throw up dust, and then water to clean the streets. No one was going to fool with the street cleaning machines.

At which point the rebellion was over. The protesters never formed again.

Very few of those enjoying the evening before and after the curfew were wearing masks. Forget about social distancing. An impossibility.

During the protest portion, the protesters were chanting “USA, USA, USA” and “We’re not going to take it.”

Pru Sowers in the Key West Citizen described the evening best. The evening was “more whimper than a riot.”

I obviously was not out. Day #331 of my self-quarantine. My information regarding Duval and New Year’s eve comes from 3 excellent sources. The 2 front page columns of today’s Citizen and Jean Thornton.

Jean and Joe are still self-quarantines in Birmingham. They watched the action in front of Sloppy Joe’s via Sloppy’s webcam. Even saw Joe Walsh’s arrest via another webcam.

Trump’s complaining fashion is consistent. He continues to decry the Presidential election. Fraud everywhere. Yesterday, he went after the run off elections taking place in Georgia tuesday. Described them as “illegal and invalid.”

When you are on top and in control, few will dispute you. When the end is near, supporters fall along the wayside in increasing numbers.

Trump is close to being out. His power ends January 20. His ass kissers and followers will be significantly diminished.

The loudest example so far. The Senate this week overriding Trump’s veto of the defense bill. Significantly: 81-13. First override of a Trump veto in 4 years.

Trump’s days sowing chaos and undermining national security will not be possible in any significant fashion. He will have become yesterday’s news.

When you’e out, your’re out!

Another Trump inspired lawsuit has been thrown out of court. Representative Gohmert’s suit against Vice President Pence re overriding the electoral vote.

The Federal Judge ruled the plaintiffs had suffered no specific damage, Congress did not have the legal right (standing) to sue, and plaintiffs’ lawsuit presupposed what the Vice President would do.

Another victory for the good guys! Sixty one lawsuits. Trump or his people won only one.

History will recognize Trump as responsible for COVID-19 being as bad as it has become in the U.S. Trump should be proud. He has blood on his hands.

There are now 20 million confirmed cases. Close to 350,000 dead. One model suggests an additional 115,000 will die in the next 4 weeks.

Thank you, Donald!

Enjoy your day!

  WHERE’S ANGELICA’S KIDNEY? was originally published on Key West Lou

[golddaggers]

chemistry // part two

pairings: teacher!dylan o'brien x student!reader.

warnings: besides cursing? none.

a/n: look finally decided to realease chapter number two? hahaha :) plus, I’d like to announce that I will be uploading every Saturday. well, the ones I can because university is a bitch. nonetheless, proceed to your reading.

word count: 2,6k+

part one

For some weird reason I was yet to figure out, because it was a lot unlike me, I woke up in an incredible good mood. Which could totally be related to the fact that today was the first sunny morning after weeks enduring grey skies, rain, thick coats and freezing temperatures. Not that I hated all of that, except I did; it made me feel depressed. Plus my hair looked awful.

Yawning tiredly, I stretched out, sitting on my bed. While doing so, my eyes fell to Karen’s sleeping figure all curled up like a ball underneath three sets of sheets on a mattress carefully placed on my carpeted floor. She had decided to stay over the night because we still needed to go over some flash cards to our Algebra exam, that happened to be today, after my mother’s delicious dinner. I wouldn’t be the one to blame her, Louisa Smith was definitely a good cook, which means her belly was probably too full for her to find the strength to leave.

A small laugh slipped past my lips as I got back to my feet, muscles still numb for the amount of hours I stayed in the same position. Either way, I was refreshed to have had, at least once and in a long while, a decent night of sleep; also, the recently made coffee scent alongside the, very likely, scrambled eggs, homemade buns and everything a hungry person could dream about got my stomach complaining, setting my destination to the kitchen room.

The lovely forty year old woman I called mum was humming happily to a song whilst, by smell, squeezing oranges to make my favourite juice. I understood she used cooking as a self defense mechanism to keep herself together; we were still struggling with our father’s departure. It was complicated to even bring up in conversations, so, eventually, we just sort of stopped. I was pretty sure she would get over it. She was the strongest person I had ever known, of course she would.

“Good morning.” I mumbled, hugging her tightly, feeling her tummy shake as the woman laughed. “And this smells great, by the way.”

“Good morning too, sweetheart. What got you up so early?” My mum quizzed, directing me one of her best soothing smiles. “Are you nervous about the test?”

“Yes, obviously.” Rolling my eyes, a tiny smirk curled my lips as I took place at the table. “But it’s not why I’m up. I actually have no idea, but I have this feeling today is going to be great.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy, baby girl.”

“I am too, mum, these past weeks haven’t been easy, exactly…”

“Yes, I am aware of that, but you know what? We’re in a much better place now.”

“I think so too.” Supporting my elbows on the table, I watched my mother’s tired traits. “I want you to be happy too, ma.”

“I’m going to be fine!” The older woman looked away, prohibiting me from spotting her probably glassy eyes. “Now eat, before-”

A pale seventeen year old walked inside wearing a ridiculous bright red nightshirt and a sleeping mask controlling the brown mess that her hair was. She smiled kindly to both of us.

“Mrs. Smith, if you were going to say ‘eat before the eating monster arrive’, that would have been a great advice.”

The three of us shared a laugh before reuniting at the already set kitchen table, everything in place so we could eat together; Karen stole to her plate two muffins, three little breads, a couple of bacon’s slices and eggs, obviously. My mum and I just gazed at her, trying to hold our chuckles back. For someone so small, my friend definitely had a huge appetite.

Once the fun moment was over, we conducted a rather great breakfast, discussing light matters and gossiping like three old friends would do. To be honest, while we chatted, I was in awe to see that my mother was indeed improving; you could tell she had no masks on this time. No pretending nor disguising to be okay. It was purely and merely her.

Yes, this surely was a sign that a great day was ahead of me.

About twenty minutes later, Karen and I went upstairs to get ourselves ready to go to school. Because it was still a lot early, each one of us took our time to enjoy a warm bath, to pick a nice outfit, fix our hairs, etc, etc. Standard girl stuff, I guess.

“So,” The brown haired girl questioned, brushing her hair and locking it up in a tight pony tail. “You haven’t mentioned your date with Mr. McHottie a single time. Aren’t you going to go?”

“It’s not a date!” I whined, putting on a colourful sundress that fell to the mid of my thighs. Her green eyes glanced at me in disbelief, a smug grin taking over her heart shaped face. “It’s not! This is a class. Strictly professional.”

“Yeah… I just don’t buy it.” Scoffing, she stood and straightened her grey skirt, which matched perfectly her white buttoned blouse, the blue cardigan and also her heels. “You wouldn’t be dressing so nicely if the inner you didn’t think this is more than a casual lecture.”

“You are crazy, Karen.” Shaking my head, I slipped in my normal tennis shoes and put on a jeans jacket, grabbing my already fixed backpack that was placed near my closet’s door. “Can I just be in a good mood for once? Not everything has to be about men, you know.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, I’m just mentioning I’m happy. That’s all. And that it has nothing to do with Mr. O'Brien.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it.” Karen sighed, collecting her bag as well. “But, seriously, who are you denying this for? Me or you?”

The girl left without giving me time to even come up with a proper answer. Of course she had point; Karen knew very well I had had a crush on him a while back, in the tenth grade. But it was over, I was just kid. Furthermore, I highly doubted Mr. O'Brien would even think about the possibility of being with student; he was way too professional for that to happen. Like, friends, I guess, but dating? Not in million years.

A final exhale escaped as I made my way downstairs; I sure as hell needn’t to convince anyone, nor myself, that nothing was happening, because, well, nothing was happening. He was just being nice. That’s all.

“What took you so long, darling?” My mother questioned as soon as I took my place on the front seat, putting my bag on my lap as I fastened my seat belt. “You look pale too.”

“I’m fine, I swear.” Gazing through the corner of my eye to the back row, I saw Karen shake her head, frowning at my response. “By the way, I might be running late today.”

“Why so?”

“Uh, my chemistry teacher, Mr. O'Brien, offered to help me catch up on the subject. He said I have been off lately.”

“Isn’t Mr. O'Brien the hot one?”

My cheeks quickly reached a scarlet tone as my eyes grew wide to her last sentence. Since when does my mother notice if people are hot or not? I was clearly shocked, yet, Williams broke the tension with a laugh, getting mum to do the same.

“Mum!”

“Just commenting, silly girl. You should see your face.” She stopped under a red sign, looking at me tenderly. “If he says so, I’m okay. Just don’t be so late, alright?”

“Got it.”

Connecting the white earbuds to my phone, I opened the Spotify app and swiftly drowned myself on Sofia Karlberg’s version of the song ‘Toxic’, wishing nothing but to distract myself of all the things that could lead me into thinking of my encounter later with a certain chemistry teacher.

As it turns out, the whole putting out of my mind my own human personification of a Greek God was incredibly hard. I mean, I tried, I really did, but his sinful honey eyes kept haunting me the entire course of my classes. Seriously, why couldn’t him be like my AP Calculus teacher: bald, pudgy and not at all attractive? It would make things a lot easier for me.

Biting my bottom lip to contain a frustrated sigh, I glared at Mrs. Ziemann, trying to focus on her interesting lecture about the end of World War I. She excitedly explained how wrecked both Italy and Germany were once it was over, especially the latter, with the cruel Treaty of Versailles. Oh, well, at least paying attention to that could allow me to forget I was only five minutes away from my meeting.

As the woman finished her presentation, I wrote down a few topics to look upon later when studying the subject, which I needed to do, because this good looking lady was known for her killer exams. On a side note? I may have cried myself after a couple of them.

“And this wraps up our class today.” She smiled solemnly, her pretty blue eyes locked on the back of the class where the lacrosse team was based. “Oh, wait, before you all go, I would like to inform I want, for next week, a paper on the tragic events at the end of World War I.”

This time I didn’t hold back a sigh, taking notes on my journal to do this assignment soon, for next week I also had, oh darn, a chemistry exam. Fate must really think my life is a big fat joke. That’s ought to be it.

I swiftly packed my stuff, placing a handle on my right shoulder and moving away from the class, only to find Karen leant against a wall outside, trying to look casual while chewing gum. Oh, yes, I had to solve this too.

“Please tell me you forgot about our little misunderstanding from earlier today.”

“I didn’t.” Her eyebrows were knitted together, her mouth forming a straight line. “But I’m willing to move past it if you promise to tell me the details of your “class” with Mr.McHottie.”

“You are such a gossiper!” I laughed, stopping at my locker to get my Chemistry book volume two. “I have been trying all day long to not think about it.”

“Let me guess: useless.”

“Damn right it was.”

“Well, he won’t bite you, at least.” The green eyed girl patted my back, a smirk plastered on her face. “Not unless you want to, I guess.”

“You are such a mean whore.” We both chuckled, our next stop being in front of Mr. O'Brien’s office, me knocking at the door twice. “And this is where I leave you, K.”

“Tell me the details!” She whispered, winking at me playfully. “I mean it!”

“Get out! Now!”

Williams raised her thumbs up to me, winking one last time then disappearing in the halls just before the brown haired man, also known as Greek God, also known as my chemistry teacher, opened the door. I certainly wasn’t ready to see him so loose, if that’s the correct term.

His hair was more disheveled than usual, the scruff still framing the beautiful pink lips, his white casual shirt had a button open, revealing an adorable puddle of chest hair, and his red tie was lying over his desk from what I could see. O'Brien directed me a comforting smirk, placing his rather large hand on my back, pulling me to get inside the room. One small comment so we can proceed: did he have a heater on or was it me that just suddenly grew warmer under his touch?

Gripping tighter on my hard covered book, I went forward to take seat on one of the first row’s places whilst he stayed behind to close the door. Okay, first minutes, still not weird. Maybe just a little bit. Why am I so tense?

“Are you okay, Smith?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m just a little bit nervous…”

“You don’t have to be.” He smirked tenderly, pulling a chair to sit in front of me. “It’s just you and me, plus I won’t do anything to you.”

“Uh, people already think you-”

“Well, I seriously don’t mind what people think. You’re amazing, you know?” His eyes connected with mine for a while until he gazed down at his feet. “I meant as a student. That’s why I picked you to tutor.”

“Thank you, Mr. O'Brien, you are a wonderful teacher as well. I love your lectures so much!”

“That’s relieving, it would be pretty bad if my favourite student didn’t like them.” A small laugh slipped and, suddenly, all the nervousness was gone. “Should we start?”

“Yes, definitely.”

The following hour was simply incredible!

If him teaching to a whole class was good, having him as a mentor was even better. It was like he didn’t have to hold back nor maintain a straight face all the time. Plus the jokes? Damn, I could never have imagined he had such a great sense of humour. I mean, the man had gift on finding the right words to make me laugh like there was no tomorrow.

By the end of our time, I had not only gotten more confident on physical chemistry, but also met a side of my teacher I didn’t know previously. Mr. O'Brien, or Dylan, as he asked me to call him, was a sweet, caring guy. If the fifteen year old version of me had known this, she would be dead and buried now. God, I was a lame kid.

“It was nice being being with today.” He mumbled, nudging my shoulder with his and wearing the best smile in the whole wide world. “I’m glad we’ll be doing this for a few more weeks.”

“I’m glad too.” The watch on my wrist told me it was over six pm, which strictly meant my mum would be all over the place once I got home. “I should get going.”

“Wait, I-I…”

“Yes?”

“Oh, fuck it.”

Not thinking twice, he cupped my cheeks, pressing his perfectly shaped lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. At first I was surprised, however, as his tongue slowly licked stripe at my bottom lip, I melted away, surrendering to his touch. It was definitely nothing I could have ever dreamt about. The way his hands found the crook of my waist, how we moved in perfect sync… Everything felt like this was meant to be.

When air became necessary, we merely glued our foreheads together, gazes boring into one another. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t ideal, but, hell, I enjoyed this.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we shouldn’t-”

I didn’t want to hear the rest, he wouldn’t pop my bubble so soon, therefore, I kissed him again, this time with much more passion and hunger. So strong we were left a heaving mess afterwards.

“You’re an amazing kisser too.” O'Brien whispered, making me giggle. “I mean it.”

“You are one crazy person, O'Brien.”

“I told you should call me Dylan.”

“As you wish, Mr. O'Brien.” Playfully winking at him, I stole another peck, earning a small smile from him. “This is crazy… I mean, someone could have seen us! Oh, fuck, what if one of the cleaning ladies saw us? You could lose your job! Shit!”

“Relax, nobody saw us.” His thumbs massaged my cheekbones, trying to sooth me. “But you can’t tell this to anyone, okay? Not even Miss Williams. Even though I don’t regret one bit, I could really lose my job if this comes out.”

“Of course I won’t tell anyone, it will be our little secret.”

“Deal.”

I hid my face on the crook of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating musk of his cologne. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me; I mean, it was too surreal. If it was a rumour about Briannah, I would have believed more, because, well, she did want to do it, but me? Nah, it was messed up. Nonetheless, it wasn’t less real. I was indeed within his arms. And, in that particular moment, I decided to not care about the consequences any longer.

[lubdubsworld]

Under my skin (Namjoon/Oc)

Chapter 5

"What do you wear to a non date? You know where you go out with a guy but you don't want him to think it's a date? Because you're not into him that way… " I say casually, watching my roommate as she digs through her closet , wrapped in a fluffy white towel .

 She's got an interview in a few hours and she gives me a look of long-suffering, eyes hooded and mouth twisting downwards in displeasure.

 "Ae Rin-ah, you know how I feel about your stunted emotions , your lack of a love life and your fashion sense, why would you put all three of those things in one sentence, it makes me nauseous.." She mutters.

 "Don't be a bitch. Come on, toss me a bone here."

 "Is this the back up dancer you've been sleeping with?" She says with a frown, laying out her own outfit and then going back in to dig through her clothes. As a fashion major she usually had an excess of dresses and t shirts and pants lying around. 

"Uh…" I hesitate just a bit. " Not exactly. "

“Then?”

“it’s his friend.” I mutter under my breath. Jiah frowns deeper and pulls out three dresses, decent calf length gowns with stitched hems and puffy, flowy sleeves. They look decidedly feminine and i wrinkle my nose. 

“How close of a friend are we talking here? Your fuck buddy is okay with you going around with his friend?” 

“It’s not that serious. Remember that cafe I told you about? The one in Gangnam? He’s got tickets for the weekly exhibit and I just want to see it!” I say briskly, grabbing a periwinkle blue dress and holding it up against my body. i’m not fashinably thin, but not exactly voluptuous either. The wide neckline would be wasted on me. 

“Wait, is this the same exhibition you’ve been salivating over for  years ? The one where you can’t get tickets unless you’re super rich or super connected or something?” 

“Yup..” i hum, reaching for the next gown. It’s a soft pink, not garish or overdone and i like it. There’s some lacy white overlay near the neck and pink bows on the sleeves and Jesus, is that a satin bowtie? It’s definitely girly though, and I feel like a little feminity never hurts, you know? 

Except when I hold it up, it falls a few inches short of my knee. Too much skin. 

Rejected. 

Jiah let out a low whistle.

“He got you tickets to a show like that? That sounds very.. romantic and date-y? Okay, does  he  know you’re not into him.??”

I make a noise of impatience. 

“Of course, I told him that.” 

“then why do you feel the need to convey it through oyour clothes as well? if you guys already talked about it, and he knows you’re not interested him, then wear whatever you feel like.” She sounds perfectly sensible, of course , but I still feel a cloying sense of guilt in the pit of my stomach. i don’t know what it is that’s triggering all these negative emoitons in me. 

“I just...Wanna be safe i guess. I don’t know ... i don’t want to hurt either of them.” I say, feeling silly. there’s nothing to be hurt here, i think firmly. there’s no prospect of a serious relationship with either of them anyway. it’s absolutely foolish to even think of something like that. 

they’re superstars. 

I’m a struggling photographer who takes pictures of them. Yoongi just.. well, he likes me for a quick lay, possibly because I could hold a conversation with him when he wanted me to. 

And Namjoon... Namjoon was...

“Ae Rin? Rin.. You listening?!”

I startle, blinking back to focus on her. 

“Uh.. yeah?”

“I said, don’t be the reason their friendship gets shot to hell. it’s a shitty thing to do. “ She says firmly and I nod absently, reaching for the burgundy gown with the lace lining. it looked classy, perfect for a photo exhibit. 

“I’m not getting involved with either of them.” I say firmly, testing the soft silk of the gown. it looks expensive too, texture like flowing water over my fingers. 

“So you say. But honestly, you know that these sex only relationships are never that, right? You end up catching feelings in the end and then it all gets shot to hell. You don’t want that distraction...” 

You see , over the years, I’v realized something. 

Jiah is smart. 

And I’m a reckless fool. 

I ignore her warning and get dressed slowly, texting my location to Namjoon. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He picks me up in a blue Porsche Cayenne. I fidget uncontrollably as he comes around to open the car door for me, dressed in fitting blue jeans and a plain white button down, face hidden by a mask and hair swept up underneath his fedora. He looks like an idol, even without the fanfare, body taut and firm: all 181 cm of him. 

He greets me normally, because he’s a normal human being, while I try not to feel like an bull in a china shop, fumbling over my syllables like an idiot. 

“You’re late.” I blurt out stupidly and his eyes crinkle like he’s smiling. It’s a shame i can’t catching sight of the dimples that are no doubt underneath that mask.  

He’s incredibly tall, up close and i struggle to feel less like a bug as he helps me into the seat, the musky scent of expensive perfume and clean male skin hitting me in all the right places . Or should I say , wrong places.

“I’m sorry, I was held up a bit by traffic. I hope you’ll forgive me. ” He whispers, eyes fixing on mine with alarming force. It’s almost physically restrictive,. his gaze. Like arms gripping my waist and pinning me to the seat.

Breathing has never been harder.

It’s new and terrifying, this foreign feeling of nervousness and guilt. And it confuses me completely. Namjoon isn’t the sort of person I usually admire. 

Not to say he isn’t attractive.

 He’s intensely masculine, unforgivingly male and there’s just this something in him that would make any girl want to... get down on her knees .

For not-so innocent reasons. 

And that scares me. 

Attarction is one thing : but something about Namjoon tells me he’s dangerous.All consuming. The sort of person who would demand too much. Demand it all. He would probably want to  own  the girl he got together with. 

Well, if you had to belong to someone, he’s not a bad choice  a voice snickers in the back of my mind.

 i know that voice. It’s the same voice that makes me follow idols to five star hotels and let them take naked photos of me. That voice is not to be trusted.

When he slips behind the car wheel, I can’t help but stare at his veiny forearms, the quiet strength of his fingers as he grips the wheel. He’s a confident driver but not cautious like Yoongi. There’s a bit of a rashness in the way he drives, not wild per se but just a little out of the comfort zone. 

 You know what they say about the way a man drives and the way he is in bed,  the voice is back, this time too loud.  Namjoon looks like he could be into some freaky stuff. 

My face is flaming red and I already wish I’d just refused him. 

“The Photographer this week is In Sook Kim... You like her right? I read that she’s your favorite photographer” He says casually and I pull myself together. 

“Read?”

“Your thesis on Florence. It was published in that magazine... i read it.” 

“ She talks about a lot of things : abstarct stuff that people ususlaly tend to ignore. i love that about her. She makes me feel like, ... even if i’m not someone famous or well-known...i’m still special. I want to recreate that sometimes.... ” I say softly, momentarily forgetting my nervousness. 

“She’s done a lot of projects...” 

“I studied one of them. Muses... it came out in 2004. “ I smile brightly. 

“The one with the women from the S and M club?” He smiles faintly, reaching out to take his mask off and it’s a bit like getting a floodlight shoved into my face, the sharp features and the bright gaze.

“uh.. yeah.. That one.. You know it?” i’m surprised. 

“Of course. it’s one of her famous works. I have two copies of it on my bedroom wall.” 

I try not to think of him on his bed , staring up at photos of submissive women in a Sado-Masochism club. 

But i can’t control my face and he laughs. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a conservative woman? “

“I.. no .. of course not. To each their own.” I say swiftly. 

“Hmm... Personally , i think everyone should try BDSM , once .” He shakes his head. 

I struggle to draw in my next breath. 

“I.. uh.. yeah, sure.” 

He must’ve caught the way my voice stuttered. 

“Am i making you uncomfortable?” He looks very unapologetic, almost amused. 

 Very much.

“Not at all. But then, not everyone is like that” I say almost defensively. The very phrase brings out a visceral reaction in me. I’ve seen woman hand over control to men. i’ve seen men take that control, take that power and break that woman down till she stops existing. 

“Like what?” He sais gently.

I bite my lips. 

“Weak and submissive.” i say finally. 

Namjoon laughs out loud

“Weak Submissives? There’s no such thing as a weak submissive, Ae Rin ssi... Submissives are usually very strong people. People who are strong enough to trust their Dom with themselves.” He turned slightly, something challenging in his gaze. 

I swallow. 

“Well, I wouldn’t know.” I snap. “ I’m not one!” 

He makes a soft , soothing sound that oddly comforts me. 

“I’m sorry if that ruffles your feathers,  aegi , I just made a general observation.”

Aegi? did he just call me aegi? I'm not his baby!! . I should be mad, I thought trying to summon up some irritation at the phrase. But all i can feel is warmth spreading out to my toes. 

“I... I’m sorry too. I just.. I shouldn’t have snapped.” I say feeling oddly scolded. 

“Let’s talk something fun, where would you like to have dinner tonight? I have reservation for a Chinese, A Thai and a Continental Place. You pick.” He smiles brightly. 

We talk a bit about our favorites and decide on the Thai place, by which time we’ve reached the cafe. 

As we pull up to the entrance. i glance at the board set up on front. The place is oddly empty and uncrowded which was surprising because the cafe is usually bustling with people. 

 Private Viewing Scheduled. Visitors Prohibited. 

“What?” I say confused when he comes around and helps me out. 

“I’m sorry...I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.. i hope you’ll enjoy this.” He says almost apologetically and i fellt my heart leap into my throat as I follow him into the loungue. The staff greet Namjoon with familiarity, even hugging him. 

“Is she here?” He says brightly and my heart stops. 

“No.. No!1 Kim Namjoon, No!!” I hiss, stunned. 

“You said you like her! You can tell her that in person. She’s in the last room. “

“You.. You’re not..?”

“coming with? Of course not! This is your present. Enjoy it to the fullest.” He smiles brightly. “ I’ll be right here. You can take as long as you want. Our reservation isn’t till eight. That gives you..” He glances at his watch “ Four hours at least.” 

I stare at him, fighting the overwhelming urge to fling myself into his arms . 

“I .. Thank you...I...”

“You can thank me by buying me ice cream the next time we go out.” He smiles and the casual way he tells me he wants to meet me again isn’t entirely lost on me. 

I try to ignore my pounding , breathless heart and move to the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take me four hours. I spend an hour and twenty minutes with the lady, a bright middle aged woman with a pleasant smile. She’s very humble and answers my question with a lot of patience. 

“I don’t usually meet fans or attend private schedulings. But Namjoon’s mother is an old friend and he’s never called me in for a favor before.” She smiles, when I finally shake hands with her to bid her farewell. 

“I.. Thank you. I had such a great time.” My find feels like a well soaked sponge with all the information I’ve crammed into it. She had been kind enough to let me record some of her more complicated ideas, the ones I was afraid I would forget once i got home. 

“He told me you’re interested in an internship, now that you’ve finished your Degree. My studio does take interns... You’re welcome to apply with your portfolio.” She smiles then and i know my jaw has hit the floor. 

“I... really? Are you serious? I mean.. i’m not that good!! ” I’m too stunned to respond properly. 

“Of course. And don’t be so hard on yourself. You got that scholarship didn’t you? The same scholarship, I myself failed to get .” She winks. 

I nod , feeling lost and overwhelmed. 

“I’ll send it in...I will. Thank you so much.” I say softly. 

“Namjoon’s a nice kid. Bit old fashioned , but a nice kid. I hope you treat him well.” She says gently, her eyes warm and soft and it scares me momentarily, the sincerity in her tone. My throat goes try and i quickly shake my head. 

“Oh, no... No! We’re not together. I.. i have a boyfriend!” I say stupidly. She looks surprised.

“Oh.. really? I assumed... When namjoon said... Oh well,” She looks very confused but smiles. “ I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.” She finishes awkwardly. 

When I leave the room, my mind is still running in circles. I’m not an idiot. I know that Namjoon isn’t one either. What he’s done today... it goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. Far beyond it. 

And it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever felt. Fingers trembling, I make my way to the loungue where I know he’s waiting. He catches sight of me and if i needed anymore proof , it’s there in the way his face lights up when he sees me, twin dimples lighting up on his face. 

i can’t summon up the smile that I ought to give him. In it’s place is liquid terror, spreading through my veins. 

 What are you seeing, when you see me? A pretty young girl with a bright dream? That’s not who i am! There are so many demons inside my skull... they’ll destroy you if you come anywhere near me , Namjoon -ah...

“Hey! Did you have fun....” His smile fades when he sees me and I stop trying to hide it. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He says nervously and i swallow. 

“I.. I’m fine. I was just wondering how Yoongi would have enjoyed the exhibit too ” I lie blatantly and it’s funny, how he wears his heart on his sleeve, how his mile gets wiped off his lips and hie eyes lose that sparkle. 

“Thank you for today. I learned so much from her . She even told me I could apply to be an intern and..” I babble mindlessly . 

Namjoon stares at me for a long moment. 

“I'm happy that you’re happy.”  He says softly and I feel out of my depth. 

Later as we sit down to dinner, he tells me about his family, his dog and his little sister. 

“What about your family?” He says casually reaching across the table to refill my wine glass. 

“Uh.. My parents died when I was six.” I say softly. “ I grew up with my stepfather , till I got the scholarship to study in Seoul univ.”

“Is he still around?”

“Uh...I wish he wasn’t.” I say before I can put a stopper on my thoughts. Namjoon glances up sharply and his dimples peek out.

“Ah... that explains a lot.”

“Sorry?”

“the distrust... the way you always keep glancing at the door ... the way you steer the conversation away from amything personal. I bet you’re one of those rare girls who think that a dinner date is far more intimate that a night of hot and heavy sex...” He smiles thoughtfully. I’m momentarily stunned into silence. 

“That’s not... I’m not like that...” I say sharply. 

“It’s not a flaw. Plenty of girls out there have daddy issues. Most of them, in fact. “ He shrugs. 

i feel suddenly affronted.

“I do not have Daddy issues, what the fuck...” The words are out before I can stop myself and he grins. 

“That’s more like it.” He whispers.

“What?” I snap.

“This is more like you. the swearing, The blazing eyes. The heaving breasts. you look like a goddess when you’re angry. You’ve been wearing a mask this evening and I really wish you’d be yourself with me. ” He leans forward and I resist the urge to toss the wine on his face.

“You’re insufferable...i want to leave.” I almost stand but his hand shoots out and grips my wrist, so tight that I whimper, the sound strangled out of me. 

“Don’t be scared, baby. I'm just being honest He whispers. 

“This isn’t a date. Stop calling me that.” I grit out. He lets my wrist go and I wipe at the skin moodily. 

“I know it isn’t a date. I never said it was. “ He shrugs. And then he looks up and there’s a flash of something in his gaze.

“But I hope the next one will be.” He says softly. 

I stare at him and suddenly it strikes me how foolish I’ve been. Of course he’s going to be just like the rest of them.

“You want to have sex with me?” I say blankly. 

“I want to get to know you. To date you... “ He corrects me, leaning forward. 

“You don’t have to splurge for another date. I could blow you in the rest room if you like.” I say it just to shock him but it angers him instead.

“Shut up. Yell back at me if you want... don’t fucking degrade yourself like that. You’re worth far more than a blowjob in a rest room, you silly fool.” He snarls. The words momentarily frighten me. 

“Well, that’s where you’re fucking wrong. I’m not worth ‘ more’. And I’m going to pass on the date. i already have a fuck buddy.” I say softly , leaning back. 

“Yoongi hyung? I know you don’t feel anything for him... You’re using him .You think he’s a safe bet because he’ll never ask for more than what you give. But me...I scare you” He smiles softly and it’s frightening how accurate he is. 

I laugh in disbelief. 

“You think you’re better than him? He took me to the Park Hyatt on our first date..He booked the honeymoon suite for 5000 dollars that night.....i’ve already slept with him a dozen times. i don’t even know you that well.  “ I sound snobbish but the urge to wipe that smirk off his face is overwhelming.

Namjoon smiles.

“Yoongi hyung has a scar on his shoulder. Which one? Left or right?” He smiles.

“What?” I blink. 

“The scar on his shoulder.... which shoulder...?

“I..” I stop drawing a complete blank. did he have a scar? 

“The curtains in your honeymoon suite... do you remember what color they were? “ He smiles , “ the bedsheets.. were they satin or silk...? Do you remeber the conversation you had with him during dinner? Do you remeber what he was wearing that night?” 

It feels a bit like I’ve been sucker punched. i don’t remember any of those stuff. Had never felt the need to ..

“i.. That’s.. Those are physical things.. they don’t mean anything...”

“Oh they would. If Yoongi means anything... those things would mean something too.... But we both know he doesn’t...” 

“Stop.. Namjoon...”

“Give me a chance, Ae Rin.” He says firmly, leaning forward. 

“Take me home.”

“Ae Rin.”

“We’re done. Take me home. Now!!”.

He doesn’t protest. But when he drops me off, his face is somber. 

“I’m not going to back off.” He whispers. 

“Good night Kim namjoon ssi.” 

[rad-is-unavailable]

The Paradox: Chapter One: This’ll Be Fun...

Hey! I'm Link and here's the first chapter to a new book that I'm writing. It's originally uploaded on my WattPad if you were interested that's in my Info thingy... Anyways! I hope that you like it!

~

"Hey Blake! Can you head inside and grab some food?" My friend Archer had asked, I replied with a groan. We've been up all night working on our plans and went out to eat, but it turns out that the drive through was broken, so now we're sitting in the parking lot. Archer and I run a company and I'm the main inventor. But we're working on a new side business.

"Please! I'm the one who drove here!" Archer whined. I threw my head back in annoyance, "Fine, but next time we pull an all-nighter, you're the one getting me food!"

He smiled, "Don't worry, next one's on me," I opened my car door, before I closed it, I hear Archer mutter, "Not." One day I may snap and kill this man. I walk into the fast food place and quickly place my order. I step over to the side to keep out of everybody's way and pull out my phone to scroll through social media. I usually have a lot on there since I help run the company. Most of them are trolls saying that our technology sucks, and the other people are asking me how many retweets for a new phone. I usually ignore them because the last time I did that, the person had 100 thousand more than the asked number and Archer ended up punching me.

I guess I'm the nerd stereotype. I have an above average IQ score and not exactly tough. That's another thing Archer and I were doing last night. He was training me to fight. I would've looked more on my phone, but my name was called to pick up my food. After I grabbed the bag and turned around, one girl was staring at me. She was at the door and quickly walked out. She had long light brown hair that was pulled into a pony tail. She was wearing a grey hoodie with black jeans and black shoes. It was odd, but in New York, you see a lot of odd people. As I took another look at her, it looked like her pocket was bunched up, struggling to hold what she had. That is a little more suspicious, but I'm just going to ignore it again.

I walk out of the fast food restaurant and I see the car. I was going to walk over there until I was pulled into an alleyway by my arm. I was greeted by the girl, but this time she was wearing a black bandanna. She doesn't know that I saw her before, that gives me an upper hand. She pinned me up to a concrete wall and pulled a knife to my neck.

"Wallet, now," She said sternly. I nodded and reached into my back pocket. The food I bought was on the ground so my other hand was up as a defense. Before I could give her my wallet, I put a small tracking device on it so she couldn't get away. I knew she was smirking when I gave her my wallet because of her eyes. She pulled the knife away and put my wallet into her hoodie pocket. This girl interests me a lot. I think she would be perfect for the side business, now to get Archer on board. Speak of the Devil, I see him walk around the corner and his face be consumed with shock.

"Blake, are you over he-Wait, what the hell? Who are you?" He stormed over to where the girl and I was. Before he could say another word, the girl pinned him to the wall with the knife to his neck. I mentally face-palm myself for him getting in the same position I was.

"Give me your wallet before I slice your neck," The girl hissed. Archer hesitantly obeyed and gave her his wallet. The girl snickered, "Well, thank you boys! You guys just got me my meals for the rest of the week!" She then ran off into the alley. I was a little confused, but once she got to the wall, she stood on the dumpsters and climbed onto the roof of a four-story building. My mouth was hanging open until Archer pulled me out of my thoughts, "Hey lover-boy! What are you doing? Call the damn cops already!"

I look back to him, "Nope, get in the car. It's time for the side business to get its employees!" I say with joy as I walk to the car. Archer looked taken aback, but soon caught up with me, "Are you mental! She's a criminal! She literally just mugged us!" I roll my eyes as I step into the car and pull out my phone for a GPS. Archer gets in on the driver's side and stares at me. "She's gonna get us killed out there."

"Not if we give her a good payroll!" I say as I show him where to go. He starts up the car with a growl and follows the girl.

Once the red dot stopped, we arrived at an abandoned warehouse. I reach to the back seat and hand Archer his suit. He presses the button and the suit puts itself into place on the buff man over his clothes. I do the same with my suit and I look to Archer, "Ready?" He huffs, "Sure, but she's not gonna do it," I roll my eyes again and get out of the car, so does Archer. We run into the front of the ware house only to find a bunch of blood. We glance at each other before we heard a woman scream.

I run through the ware house, following the blood trail with Archer behind me. We reach a room where the screams were coming from. I burst through the door to find the girl on the floor holding her side. Once she saw us she pulled out a gun and aimed it at the two of us. "Who the fuck are you and how'd you find me?" She growled in pain. Archer and I put up our hands. I look at her side and see the blood pouring out of her.

"Look, questions later, I need to stitch up your wound," I say sternly. I see her face scrunch together as she thinks, but she hesitantly nods her head and puts down the gun. "I don't have a first aid though," She says as she pulls off her hoodie. I blush a little when she takes off her shirt to reveal her bra, but luckily my face was hidden by my mask. "That's fine, I have supplies in my suit," I kneel beside her as I open up a compartment in my chest to take out medical supplies. "This is gonna hurt a lot," I point out as I prepare to clean the wound. "No shit Sherlock!" She growls bitterly. Once I pour the alcohol on the wound, she flinched and bit down on her lip. "Okay, I have something that'll numb your side so it won't hurt as bad, would you like that?" I look up at her for permission and see that a couple tears have fallen down her cheeks. She nodded and I injected the medicine. I got out the supplies for stitches as I let the medicine work.

"Well, the good news is the bullet just scraped your side so we don't have to dig it out!" I say trying to cheer her up. She only needed about six stitches, and once I was done she sat up and quickly wiped her face. "Thanks, but why did you help me?" She asks with suspicion all over her face. Before I could answer her, I realized that Archer wasn't by my side. I turned around to see him glaring at the girl. I roll my eyes and bring my attention back to her. "I want you to join our team."

She laughed bitterly, "What the hell kind of team are you?" I glance at Archer and he walks over to her other side, "We're gonna be heroes," He answered. She laughed harder, but stopped and grabbed her side, probably feeling a lot of pain.

"If you guys didn't know, I'm kind of a well known criminal in New York. I think you got the wrong person," She stated with a look of sorrow. I pull off my mask and I can see Archer glaring at me, "I know who you are, that's why I want you to join us."

She just stared at me in shock, I bet she didn't plan on having the men she mugged saving her life. "B-but-" I cut her off, "How about, I don't turn you into the police and you join us."

She smirked, "Okay, but I'm telling you this right now, I'm gonna do a lot of killing," Archer pointed his glare towards her, "We're only killing bad guys," "Deal!" The girl said while standing up. "Okay, so I know that your name is Blake, and assuming that you're the guy from earlier, are you Archer Washington?" She asks while pointing to Archer who hesitantly nodded. It's not a surprise that she knows us because we're kind of famous and kind of billionaires, so we're in the news quite a bit even though we keep our lives very private.

Archer walked over next to me and took off his mask. "We'll show you where you can stay and fill you in more about the team," Archer stated. He put his mask back on and started to walk out the door. I copy his actions, but as we got to the door leading outside, the girl came out in a new grey hoodie and yelled to us, "Wait! Before we go, my name is Alex," She said shyly, I smiled, "Thanks for joining the team, Alex!"

The three of us walk to the car and Alex gets into the backseat. We were going to ride in silence until Alex reached into the front and turned on the radio. She turned it up really loud and said, "I love this song!" Once she sat back down in the seat, Archer turned off the radio, "Hey! What the hell!" Archer smirked, "I hate that damn song!"

After Archer parked in the private garage, the two of us pressed the buttons on the suits which turned them back into the one button that you can stick on your chest. Since that was the first time we put on our suits non-manually, they should stay like this from now on.

Alex stared at the two of us, "I want one too!" She playfully whined. I laughed and the three of us got out of the car and walked to the elevator. "Once we get up there, I'll show you our rooms, the room you'll be staying in, the training room, and the lab," Archer stated as he crossed his arms.

"Wait, you guys live together?" We both nod our heads and give her confused looks. "So I guess the media was right then," She said while putting her arms behind her back looking innocent. I look at her again, "Right about what?" She looked me in the eyes, "That you two are gay lovers and that's why you guys started the business."

I stare at her with my mouth wide open as I see Archer get extremely angry. Before he could say anything, the elevator dinged and opened to reveal the pent house. She stared behind me in surprise and ran inside. Archer and I looked in each other's direction without eye contact and walked inside. We saw her walk around in amazement.

"Okay, first of all, we are not gay lovers, we are both straight and just friends!" I say as I make my way towards her. "Whatever you say, Blake!" She teased and stuck her tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes before I showed her around. I showed her my room, then Archer's room, and finally the room she'll be staying in. "We can order some clothes online so you don't get caught," She nodded. I then showed her down the hall where the training room is and my lab. When we stepped into my lab, she stared at my inventions with amazement, "D-did you make all of this?" She asked while looking back to me, I nodded and gave her a warm smile.

"Oh! Can I have one of those suits too?" She asked, her face looked like a child on Christmas morning. She had such an innocent look that I keep forgetting that she is a criminal. I didn't realize that I was staring until she gave me weird look and waved her hand in front of my face, breaking me from my thoughts. "Hello! Earth to Blake?" She said while stretching out the word 'hello'.

"Uh y-yeah. S-sorry, just was thinking, I'll start on your suit right now!" I say, making her smile. "Could I watch?" I give her a confused look, "Excuse me?"

"I just wanna see how you make it," She said while putting her hands up in defense.

"Well I would let you any other time, but I think Archer wanted to see how you fight, so he's gonna meet you in the training room," I say. She rolled her eyes, "Fine, but tell me when you're done!" She said while walking out of my lab and closing the door behind her.

This'll be fun.