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#listen to me Shotgun King is really fucking good
nikkisticki · 1 year
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Hey if you like video games on steam there's a humble bundle up right now with Outer Wilds and Temtem of all things, but I gotta say the real winner in the group is Shotgun King, it's 13 USD for all the games in the pack.
Play Shotgun King
Do it
https://www.humblebundle.com/membership?refc=kDsfPi
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The Brothers and Side Characters Go on a Road Trip!
So, Diavolo, Lord of the Devildom, wants to go on a road trip for reasons unknown. You know what? Screw it, the reason is because Dia wants to do a fun human thing because MC brought it up during tea time. No one can defy the king, so TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP!
Shut Up! HE DOESN’T NEED DIRECTIONS! (Lucifer)
He was going to turn that car around. That’s it, he was going to leave. Someone else drive.
I hope your MC likes staticky traffic updates because that’s what Lucifer constantly had on the radio.
Obviously, some of the brothers complained, so Lucifer put on Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9. HELL YEAH TURN IT UP DJ!
Lol JK no one can car-dance to classical music. Just go back to the staticky traffic updates…
Lucifer would have preferred it if MC or Barbatos were riding shotgun next to him, but Diavolo ended up getting it. Dia is constantly asking Lucifer to stop so he can take pictures of the most mundane shit.
Lucifer stopped stopping after the first fifteen requests.
“I’m not stopping at McDonalds- hang on. Hi McDonald’s employee, one black coffee please.”
In true father fashion, Lucifer got lost and REFUSED to ask for directions. They were lost for five hours before Diavolo finally asked:
“Lucifer, you can turn on the GPS right?”
“Yes, but I don’t trust it.”
Everyone screamed in frustration and were all fully prepared to abandon Lucifer at the side of the road.
Please… can someone else drive? Anyone else…
Are We There Yeeeet..? (Mammon)
Okay, so, Mammon was one of two ways on that road trip. One: complete ADHD daydream zoned out. Or type Two: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEE WEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEERRRRRREEEE YEEEEEEET???!
He wanted to stop and go to all the tourist traps, by the end of the road trip Mammon wanted to open his own.
The Avatar of Greed loves driving, problem is, he’s used to driving off into the sunset as a lone bachelor, not with his friends and brothers in the car as well.
He only got to drive once, and it was awful. 0/10 would not recommend. Luke thought MC was driving and called shotgun…
Mammon just turns on the radio for music and hopes something good is on at least ONE channel.
STOP WEAVING BETWEEN LANES YOU MORON-
Not all of Mammon’s time driving was bad, the combined powers of Luke and Mammon meant that everyone stopped at a petting zoo at the side of the road. Everyone had a good time, even though when they got back into the car they all smelled like a farm.
Did anyone else hear that oinking in the car-
*Vibes to Music in the Backseat* (Levi)
After being cruelly dragged from his room and placed in this stupid van… he just climbed into the backseat and put on his headphones.
Maybe anime openings could drown out this problem…
Levi only drove for fifteen minutes, it was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of everyone’s lives.
Mario Kart is not a substitute for proper driving school!
Listen- Levi actually saved the entire trip, after stopping at a gas station everyone noticed that Levi never complained about what was on the radio because he was wearing headphones, so everyone bought their own pair and the car trip was so much more pleasant…
No matter how many times Lucifer told Levi to get his feet off the seat, he wouldn’t listen, he was GAMING and they took him away from his gaming chair! HE NEEDED TO SCRUNCH HIMSELF UP LIKE A GOBLIN TO FOCUS DAMMIT!
Whenever the car would stop so everyone could get out and take a picture or look at something, Levi had to be practically dragged out of the car and manually posed for the pictures.
“Is this one of those vans with TVs in them? I brought the first five volumes of TSL on DVD!”
While Satan was driving they stopped at a lake, and Levi burst out of the car and made friends with all the lake fish.
He was still soaking wet when they had to leave.
I’m a Responsible Driver- IS THAT AN OLD BOOKSTORE?! (Satan)
Satan, we believed in you…
Our favourite nerd wanted to stop at any and all historical spots or cool looking bookstores he saw.
When everyone went to buy headphones, he got a pair with cat-ears on them! Because obviously!
Satan’s a responsible driver, and he’s not as prone to road rage as one might think. He has patience, remember in the Jobs event when he worked in customer service? Those kinds of jobs take a godlike amount of self control to do.
Asmo called shotgun and Satan got to have the wonderful experience of having his ear chatted off by his dear brother.
Satan was not about to have fast food for the eighth time in four days, if everyone wanted food, he’d stop at a restaurant.
He was terribly sorry to anyone who needed to use the restroom, but they should have gone at the last rest stop.
When Satan stopped at the lake, he gave everyone a long lecture on the historical significance of the place, then noticed that Levi was being crowned king of the lake and decided he should cut his history lesson short before Levi abandoned his family to chill with the fish forever.
I wanted Satan to be the normal chill one with the radio… I really did… but deep in my subconscious I feel like Satan would put on one of those language learning DVDs so he can learn another language on the go like a total dork.
Road Rage (Asmodeus)
No one saw this coming but- Asmo gets some B A D road rage. Someone cuts him off? “Hi hello dear, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOVE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS?!” Someone doesn’t use a turn signal? “YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON! LEARN TO DRIVE!” Someone just pisses him off? “*prolonged horn sound*”
It’s just… the car trip was so taxing on the poor Avatar of Lust… he was crammed into the middle seat for the majority of the trip… he had to give his sleeping mask to Belphie… Beel was getting crumbs all over him and he couldn’t move over… just so tragic…
Solomon called shotgun and it was the greatest couple of hours of his life. He got a front row seat to Lucifer and Barbatos dragging Asmo back into the car because he tried to pick a fight with another driver.
Asmo wasn’t having a good time…
He didn’t want to stop for any gas station food or go through a drive-thru so it was another expensive restaurant trip. Rest In Peace to the gang’s wallets.
When he wasn’t driving, Asmo was loudly talking with MC or talking on the phone. It was a blessing in disguise when they went through an area with bad phone reception and Asmo finally had to shut up.
Oh well… at least he got a few nice pictures for Devilgram.
MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! (Beel)
We all know Beel is massive, right? His head is touching the ceiling and every speed-bump hurt.
He’s the one begging to stop at every gas station or fast food place they pass by.
Beel’s section in the car was covered in empty bags of Doritos by the end of the trip.
When Beel got to drive, Belphie got shotgun! Hell yeah dream team!
Poor Beel, he got distracted and ended up somehow popping a tire. He pulled over next to a farm, changed the tire, then got back in the car and kept driving.
Uh… there was an awful lack of snoring next to Beel- OH FUCK THEY LEFT BELPHIE!
Belphie was found sleeping next to the cows on the farm they had stopped at earlier.
The cows didn’t want to give their sleepy god up so easily…
After that… Beel didn’t want to drive anymore…
“Look, cows.” (Belphie)
I really need to stop with the cow jokes but I CAN’T
*snore*
Belphie’s crammed between Beel and MC for most of the trip and is probably drooling all over poor MC’s lap or shoulder.
Beware, he jolts up randomly and looks around in a panic before he realizes he’s in a car. This happens every three hours.
Belphie’s not allowed to drive, he’d fall asleep. But when Lucifer takes the wheel and puts on that fucking staticky radio, Belphie forms an idea.
“*ahem* four thousand bottles of beer on the wall, four thousand bottles of beer,”
Mission success, Lucifer wanted to tear his hair out.
Belphie ended up asking to stop when they get to a stretch of road with no streetlights, everyone got out of the and stared at the stars.
…listen, it’s a miracle no one got axe murdered but the stars were gorgeous.
Remember when I said Satan put on those language learning DVDs? Yeah uh…. Belphie woke up from his last nap of the trip almost fully fluent in Spanish. At least one person gained a new skill on this trip…
Oooo, Look at Thaaaaat! (Diavolo)
Even though the side characters were in a different car most of the time, sometimes people would switch to the other car if they met up at a gas station.
By the end of the road trip Dia looked like one of those tourist dads, Hawaiian shirt and all.
Dia can’t drive
He’s absorbing human culture… and human culture involves ordering everything at this random Wendy’s.
Diavolo’s camera roll is so unbelievably full by the end of the trip and he refuses to delete ANY of the pictures.
Most of the pictures are of really weird and boring stuff, like traffic signs and trees, but the picture he ends up printing out and putting in a picture frame is a picture of the whole group at the petting zoo having a grand old time.
He wanted to take home a baby goat but Barbatos said that wasn’t a good idea :(
Help. (Barbatos)
So, it could have been worse for Barbatos, he could have been stuck in the car with the brothers and MC.
Dia always had the seat up front, but when he left the car to go hang out with the dude-squad, Solomon got the passenger seat.
Solomon decided it would be a good idea to pester Barbatos to go faster and take weird shortcuts through (probably not legal) backroads and creepy forest paths.
Good thing Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon had functioning brain cells and knew that’s how horror movies began.
Barbatos stopped for fast food once and only once. It’s not healthy!
He’s the only driver to take suggestions for music, meaning that the side characters’ car was the best one of the two.
“SOMEONE GET THE BARF BAG!”(Simeon)
He’s just… he’s just trying his best not to vomit…
Simeon thought the car would be a good place to get some writing done while they drove down long stretches of road. Simeon was wrong in that assumption.
With his head down way too much while the car zoomed down the highway, Simeon felt himself getting *very* sick about four hours in.
He was worried he may have accidentally eaten something of Solomon’s… but nope. The angel was carsick.
Luke had the important job of patting Simeon on the back as he leaned over the barf-bag while Solomon dry heaved up front.
Hurry and open the windows before Solomon barfs too!!!!
Other than the car sickness, he had the job of making sure Luke was entertained, there was a good hour of eye-spy until they just got to a stretch of forest.
After that, Simeon realized that he could just give Luke free permission to ramble about whatever he wanted and that would keep the little guy entertained for HOURS.
What do You Mean I Can’t Legally Make This Turn?! (Solomon)
Shifty bastard can drive, problem is, he doesn’t care about the laws of the road.
He ended up getting pulled over after breaking approximately 11 traffic laws in less than ten minutes.
“License and registration.” “Yeah yeah yeah…” “…sir, this license expired in 1989.” “…shit.”
Solomon gunned it and managed to use his magic to hide the car and evade the very confused traffic cop.
Luke was completely aghast at the flagrant law breaking, but Solomon’s excuse was that the 80s were a lawless wasteland and he completely forgot he legally had to update his license.
He’s an equally obnoxious passenger as he is driver, but at least no one in the car is bored.
“You know, back in the day cars didn’t have seatbelts.” “Solomon put your seatbelt back on.”
…Can we keep it? (Luke)
He was against this from the start. A road trip? With those nasty demons? No! Never!
Okay fine… maybe he wanted to see some more of the human world… he agreed to go.
After helping Simeon through his car sickness, he misheard the other car say that MC would be driving, and Luke wanted to hang out with his third parent 🥺
That’s how he ended up riding shotgun next to Mammon. It started out rough, but when the two spotted the petting zoo it was all sunshine and rainbows.
Luke made friends with all the animals! He was like a little Disney Prince. He got especially attached to this one piglet, it was a surprise to Simeon that the goodbye wasn’t tearful.
Luke smuggled that piglet out of the petting zoo and they were all over fifty miles away before anyone noticed.
Of course, everyone was just shocked that Luke had stolen something, but he looked so cute holding the little piggy… awwww…
The bros obviously joked that Luke had gone to the dark side and was totally evil because he had taken the pig, much to the poor kid’s dismay.
Simeon tried to convince Luke that he needed to return the piglet but Luke was adamant that he could totally take good care of it.
Welp, time for Lucifer to fix this.
“Luke, you need to go put the pig back, it’s not yours.”
“No! I’ll take good care of it!”
“That doesn’t matter, you stole it. It’s not your property, do you want to end up a scummy thief like Mammon?”
“No not at all. Let’s go return the pig.”
“THAT’S ALL IT TOOK?!”
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titan-fodder · 3 years
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Prima Vista Part I
Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.
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God, you hate frat boys. 
Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 
So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 
Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 
Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 
The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 
Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 
Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 
"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 
More cheers, more hollers. 
"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 
You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 
When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 
Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 
To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 
There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 
You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 
Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 
You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 
"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 
"Hell no!" 
"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."
"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 
Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 
You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 
"Hey, what's your name again?"
Again. As if you've actually formally met before.
"Why do you care?" 
Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."
You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  
"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 
He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 
"So? Name?"
After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 
"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 
Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 
It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 
"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 
"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  
"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."
"Aw, flatterer." 
That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 
"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 
He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 
"Sophomore."
His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 
You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 
"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."
Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."
Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 
"Sure, let's go with that."
Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 
"Can't handle beer?"
"Can't handle shitty beer."
"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"
He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.
"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."
"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 
"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."
It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 
"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."
"We've been talking for literally two minutes."
"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."
"Not any good ones obviously."
Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 
"Take it however you want. I don't really care."
His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 
Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 
"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 
"Just go get another drink."
You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 
A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 
"Four's whores!"
"Categories! Different beers!"
"Seven heaven!" 
"Ayyy, waterfall!" 
You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 
"Wanna play?"
"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."
Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 
"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."
"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"
"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 
"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."
You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 
"Excellent."
You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.
Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 
It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 
Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 
"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 
"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."
As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 
You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.
His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 
*
The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 
God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 
Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 
Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 
Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 
Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 
You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…
Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 
Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 
You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 
Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 
Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”
“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 
*
Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 
A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.
“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.
Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”
Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 
“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.
Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 
His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 
He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.
“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”
You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 
“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”
“Whatever.”
Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 
“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.
You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”
“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”
“You need a list?”
Mike nods. “Would probably help.”
“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”
“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”
“Excuse me?”
Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 
“I—”
“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”
You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”
“Does that mean I can have it back?”
You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”
It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.
The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 
You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”
“Ah. Of course.”
He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 
After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.
Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”
“No you do not.”
“Definitely do.”
“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”
He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.
“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”
“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 
Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”
He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 
“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”
“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”
“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”
“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”
“Not good for the cool guy image?” 
“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.
“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”
He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”
“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”
You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 
It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 
You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 
Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 
Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 
Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.
“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”
Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”
You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 
He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 
You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 
When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 
“Too much?” He asks.
You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”
He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”
Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”
“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”
When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”
“Shut up.”
He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 
Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.
He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.
“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 
Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 
You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 
“God dam—”
Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”
“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 
Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.
You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—
He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 
“Holy—” 
Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 
“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”
He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 
You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”
Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 
A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 
This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”
He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 
Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”
He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 
You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.
And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 
With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 
“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 
He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 
Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”
Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.
Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.
*
You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 
This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 
You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 
Is still hot. 
Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 
You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 
While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 
He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 
Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 
His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 
"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 
"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 
God dammit, why is he so sexy? 
Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 
Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 
Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 
"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."
He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."
And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 
For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 
Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 
The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 
Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 
You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 
You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 
It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 
Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 
You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 
You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 
He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 
You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 
Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 
More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 
Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 
You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 
He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 
You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 
It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 
"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 
"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 
"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."
You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 
"Oh. Right."
You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 
He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 
"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 
He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."
You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.
*
"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 
"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."
"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."
You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 
"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."
"All the more reason not to go."
"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 
She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 
It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 
"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."
You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 
Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 
"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 
And, there's that point. 
"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."
Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."
You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 
Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 
To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 
But, it needs to stop. 
You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 
And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 
At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 
Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 
Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 
This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 
You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 
All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 
Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.
“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.
You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 
“Right. Did you watch the game today?”
Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.
He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.
“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.
“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”
“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”
“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”
You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 
“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”
He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."
Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."
"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."
He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 
Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 
"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."
He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 
"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."
Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 
"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."
You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 
"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."
You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.
"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 
Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."
"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."
"So, you were watching."
"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 
He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."
You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 
Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."
"So? I can get tired too."
He's got a point. 
"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 
"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."
"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."
Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 
"Fine, but I have some stipulations."
"Oh, do you?" 
"I do."
Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."
Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."
"Deal." 
You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 
"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."
You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 
He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 
"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."
"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 
"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."
"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."
"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."
"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 
"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 
"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."
Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 
"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 
"You have any classes?" You ask. 
"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."
You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 
"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 
"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."
"Probably?" 
"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."
You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 
"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 
Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 
"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."
Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 
You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 
"God dammit." 
"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 
"I said we weren't—"
He cuts you off, "But, you want to."
He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 
It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 
He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 
When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 
You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 
That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 
It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 
Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 
That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 
Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 
And, words like that scare you.
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[ n e x t ]
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
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Could you do a HC on how the Mayans men would react to a girl getting hit on at a bar and the guy not taking no for an answer, like they don't know her or anything. I feel like they all respect women enough to at least do something about it; ya know?
All of the Mayans men wake up every day and drink a full pitcher of Respect Women Juice. They will not tolerate disrespect in their house. HC’s under the cut!
(I couldn’t decide if i wanted to do third person or reader insert for these but I settled on reader insert. Hopefully it works alright)
Bishop:
-Senses the tension immediately 
-My man sits back and watches the entire clubhouse all night. He knows everything that’s going on. And when he notices that some guy is refusing to leave you alone, he instantly gets up and goes to intervene.
-He’s not hot-headed about it. He doesn’t have the time or the energy for that anymore. But he places himself between the two of you, looking back and forth, “Everything alright here?”
-The guy would try to brush it off and reassure him that yea, of course everything is okay you can leave now. But Bishop wouldn’t have any of that. He’d cut him off mid-sentence, “I wasn’t fucking asking you.”
-He’d turn to you and ask again if you’re alright. You’d give a slight shake of her head no, not wanting to stir up drama but also not wanting to deal with this dude anymore. And that’s all it would take.
-”I think you should leave,” he wouldn’t yell. Just state it as a fact. But when the guy would try to argue that’s when he would get a little more heated. He’d step in closer to the dude’s face, but not putting hands on him, “I said you should fucking leave.”
-Bishop only uses yelling and brute force as a last resort. Very rarely does it ever come to that. He would follow the guy all the way to the clubhouse door, making sure that he actually leaves before going back to check on the poor girl that he was harassing. He 100% lingers close for the rest of the night to make sure no one bothers you.
Angel:
-King of being the Fake Boyfriend.
-My tall boy might be emotionally illiterate sometimes but he can read a social situation. When he sees a girl scrambling to try and come up with excuses to make a guy leave her alone, he has no problem inserting himself into the situation. 
-Smooth as fuck walking up to you, greeting you while resting a protective hand on your shoulder. Instantly setting the tone to whoever is talking to you that this was a useless endeavor.
- "Hey, querida,” he’d wait for you to look at him, “Sorry, didn’t see you walk in. You get a drink already? Want me to get you something?”
-The look in his eyes would let you know that he’s offering you an out to the uncomfortable situation that you’re in. He’s not trying to flirt--he’s just trying to drive away whatever asshole wasn’t catching the hint that you didn’t want to talk.
- "Who the fuck are you?” this is a problem that the guy did not see coming.
-Angel would look at him, eyes narrow, “I’m her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”
- The question is rhetorical. It doesn’t matter who the guy is. Angel doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He steps closer to the guy, towering over him. He looks down at him and is practically begging the guy to say something stupid so he has an excuse to physically throw him out the front door.
- He doesn’t get the chance, though. The guy reads the cue, knows that it’s a fight that he will not win, and walks away.
- Angel would turn back to you, “You good? Sorry about that. Didn’t seem like he was getting the hint.”
- You’d shake your head, “He wasn’t. Thank you, I appreciate the assist.”
- “No problem,” he’d pause, “But forreal did you get a drink already? First round on me.”
Ezekiel:
- Y’all remember the casino scenes with the cops? That’s how he handles shit.
- Master of keeping his cool in frustrating situations. Completely follows your lead. He sees a lot of weird interactions being on the serving side of the bar, always clocking what’s happening in front of him in case he has to step in.
-He’d notice you rolling your eyes and giving short answers. He’d also notice that the guy either isn’t picking up the cues, or is willfully ignoring them. EZ catches your eyes a few times, silently asking if you want him to step in. You shake your head--the guy is annoying but harmless for the time being.
- Then he tries to touch you. Casually reaching for your shoulder, trying to rest his hand on your knee. You recoil, trying to create more space between the two of you. He doesn't care though.
- That’s when EZ can’t keep it to himself anymore. He’d sigh, not looking up from the glasses that he’s cleaning, “I don’t think she’s into you, man.”
- You and the man would both turn to look at him, each of you with a surprised expression on your faces. You’d stay quiet, wanting to see how the situation was going to play out. The man next to you would scoff, “I don’t remember you being part of this fucking conversation.”
- “I might as well be if I have to sit here and watch it. You’re the only one out of the three of us not suffering from how uncomfortable this is.”
- His commentary would ruffle some feathers. The man next to you would get defensive, “No one asked for your fucking opin--”
- Knowing that EZ had your back would give you a little extra confidence, “You should listen to him,” you nod, “He’s right. We’re suffering.”
- He’d be caught off-guard by the two of you teaming up on him. Realizing it wouldn't be worth the fight, he’d huff and walk away. EZ would watch him and chuckle, calling after him, “Least you could do is pay your fucking tab!”
- You’d laugh, glad to be done with the uncomfortable situation, “His drink and whatever you want are all on me tonight. As a thank you.”
- He’d give you that little smirk, “Don’t mention it.”
Coco:
- Zero tolerance policy.
- Not coy or polite about it at all.
-Instantly uses himself as a barrier between you and whatever guy it is that’s not leaving you alone. He might not be the biggest guy in the MC, but he sure as hell carries himself like he is when the situation calls for it.
-Will not hesitate to get nose-to-nose with whoever is bothering you. If someone wants to invade your space, he’ll invade theirs. Fair is fair.
- “You really can’t take a fuckin’ hint, huh?” he’d shake his head.
- “What’s your problem?” the man’s voice would sound confident but the look in his eyes would show that he really didn't want a problem with whoever this guy was getting in his face.
- “You. Fuckin’ beat it,” he’d jerk his head towards the door, “Don’t come back, either.”
- Coco carries himself with the confidence of a man that will make someone pay dearly for coming back uninvited. Confrontational situations usually resolve themselves quickly. People tend to not want to mess with him if they can avoid it.
-When the guy inevitably leaves not just you, but the clubhouse altogether, Coco finally turns back to you, “You good, ma?”
- You nod, watching him light up a cigarette, “Uh, yea. I’m good. Thanks for that.”
- He nods, blowing out a puff of smoke, “We’ll make sure that fucker never comes back.”
Hank:
- The only thing that Hank Loza drinks is Respect Women Juice. When he runs across someone that doesn’t, it gets out of hand really quickly.
-Bull in a china shop.
- The same man who is usually calm and cool and collected, physically removes whoever it is that is causing a problem. The guys have tried to teach him deescalation skills but it never sticks. It’s the only thing that Hank gets heated about so they all let it go at this point.
- Hank isn’t a small dude. When he steps toe-to-toe with someone he almost always out-sizes them. They get about 5 seconds to hear what he says and leave on their own before he removes them on his own.
- “You should leave her alone,” the friendly suggestion is really anything but.
- The guys are almost always cocky, not thinking that anything is actually going to happen to them, “Or what, tough guy?”
- They ignored their first and only warning. What happens next is all on them. Hank grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the ground. His voice is quiet, which is way more terrifying than yelling, “Let’s find out.”
- Hank lifts and carries the guy out, on the brink of dragging him like a caveman. The guy is yelling in protest, trying to swing, but Hank is unfazed.
- He throws the guy down the steps of the clubhouse, giving a final warning not to come back. No longer in an agumentative mood, the man takes off in a desperate attempt to avoid getting further tossed around.
- When he goes back into the clubhouse, the rest of the guys have moved on from the situaiton--to them it was business as usual for Hank. You, on the other hand, didn't see the situation unfolding that way at all. He walked back up to you, the anger gone from his face, a gentle smile there instead.
- “Are you alright?” he looks you over as if to make sure you didn't get hurt in the midst of it all.
- “Yea,” you nod, “I’m...I’m fine. Thanks. You...you didn’t have to do all that.”
- He’d chuckle, knowing that for him it was the only course of action, “Of course I did,” he’d gently rest his hand on the outside of your arm, “Let me know if anyone else gives you any trouble.”
Creeper:
- The smaller version of Hank, tbh. Constantly out here Respecting Women.
- Remember that scene where he catches a shotgun that’s tossed to him and immediately starts shooting on the highway?? That’s the energy he has when dealing with men who disrespect women.
- Cannot easily lift and remove men the same way Hank does, but he will throw hands without hesitation.
- The guys told him no more threatening with guns in the clubhouse. So fists will have to suffice.
- Does not offer a warning to the guy. If someone is being pushy or rude, they don’t deserve a heads-up. He will try to get your attention in some way first, to make sure that you want him to intervene. If he thinks that it’s going to get out of hand, or if you let him know with a pleading look that you could use the assist, he is instantly throwing himself into the middle of it.
- He’d catch your eye, motioning back and forth between you and the man in front of you to ask if you need an out. You’d give him a slight nod and that’s all it would take.
- Walking up, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and turns him around, “Hey, motherfucker,” he’d shove him towards the door of the clubhouse, “Leave.”
- Caught off-guard, the man would shove him back. Fully-bruised ego shining through, “Keep your hands off me.”
- That’s when you’d hear the first crack of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw. Your eyes would go wide, not ever having seen Creeper get like this. His focus would be completely on the man stumbling towards the ground in front of him, “I said get the fuck out.”
- It usually doesn’t take more than one punch to get his point across. HIs muscles aren’t just for show--getting clocked by him fucking hurts. They’re lucky that he’s not big on wearing rings.
- Once the threat is neutralized, he instantly shifts back into his quiet, gentler self to check in with you. He sees the surprise in your face at how things unfolded and he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m done, promise.”
- It’d get you to laugh. You can see it in his expression that it’s almost like a switch he can flip on and off. “Um. Thank you. That...isn’t what I was expecting. But thank you.”
- “Are you alright?” he’d sit down next to you, mindful to give you some space.
- “Yea, I’m good. How’s your hand?”
- He’d chuckle, “All good. Nothing new.”
Okay this was a lot of fun. I love all these dorks. Hope you enjoyed! xo
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Text
Part 1 of ?????
Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.
COME OUT TONIGHT
NO
You don't have to fucking shout?
Said the pot to the kettle?
Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone
You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.
HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.
Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!
https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea
Hah (indifferent)
Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates
You don't HAVE to go.
Have to/want to Semantics
I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.
I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!
I read that as expensive nipples.
Those too!
Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.
Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave
URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!
You don't have to dress up!
FINE!
*
take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you
Nah mate
siriusssssssss pleeeeeease
Nah
PLEASE
Nah
PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL
I don't see what the problem is.
EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!
Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh
that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!
If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.
MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?
My dick is bewitching.
DIE
*
She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.
What greets her is really quite ordinary.
Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.
Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.
It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.
And that's sort of embarrassing, really.
Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.
She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?
There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.
*
James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?
It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.
He knows that he should cheer up.
It is his birthday. There is cake.
Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.
The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.
Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?
No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.
Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.
They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!
The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.
To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk
(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)
(*who can't remember your name)
Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.
I'll be around. Not that you'll know.
LE
James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.
Obviously, he needs to meet this person.
A mystery! At his birthday party!
He perks right up after that.
*
She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.
"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"
"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.
"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.
"Is it?" Kingsley asks.
"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."
That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.
Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.
"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.
"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.
"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"
It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.
"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.
"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.
"Very much, thanks."
"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"
He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.
"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.
"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"
"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."
"But—"
"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"
"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"
"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.
Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.
The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.
Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.
"Alright, Sirius?" says King.
"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"
"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."
Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.
It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.
"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.
"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."
Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"
"Well—"
"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."
Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."
"Funny?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"
"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."
Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.
"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"
The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"
Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"
Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."
"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.
"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."
"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."
"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."
*
James's friends are useless.
And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.
"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."
"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"
"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.
James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"
"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.
"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"
"Exactly, like—"
"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"
"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."
"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"
They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.
"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.
Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"
"Yeah!"
"Really?"
"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"
"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"
"Yes, always," says Saffy.
"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.
James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"
"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."
Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.
"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.
James's love of puns is tragically well known.
"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"
"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"
"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"
James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……
……goddess.
An actual. Like. Goddess.
A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.
She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.
"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.
"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.
"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"
"D'you think—"
"No, I—"
"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."
"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"
"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"
"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"
"It's in the bloody post!"
"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"
"Stop throwing that in my face!"
"—four blissful years—"
"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"
"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"
"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"
"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"
"Which you never gave me!"
"Because you forged the bloody signature!"
"And now she's bloody married!"
"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"
"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.
156 notes · View notes
binniesthighs · 4 years
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call me babydoll | reader x chan
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a/n: ahhhhh holy holy heck this chapter is SO DAMN EXCITING hehehe I had sosososo much writing and doing all the research!! please let me know if there is anything factual/cultural that I need to fix! I tried the best I could although I most def am not an expert in Egyptian culture so I appreciate it a lot :) hehe i hope ya have fun reading this chapter teehee oh! also I love hearing what you thought of it too! :D 
Four 
Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 
Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 
Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, several mentions of food and alcohol as well as getting tipsy/drunk that good, good making out, suggestive themes
CWs: mentions of guns, mentions of knives, themes of jealousy (expressed by the reader) 
Word count: 7.5k
Parts 
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 
“Well, we’re in Cairo alright.” 
Two tugged the amazed young stow-away-student, Seungmin, by the hand of his backpack to keep him from running into one of the palm tree planters decorating the terminal. The young man had nearly slept the whole flight due to the length as well as the exasperation that he had just been through. While his eyes were still darkened from his nap, his glossy pupils still wondered all around him. 
“I take it back. I’m so glad that I almost died so I could end up here with you guys.” 
Jeongin slapped him from the backside of his head. “Never be thankful for almost dying. Life is a lot more fucking fragile than you think. This isn’t just some joyride--” 
“--Ease up F.” You interrupted your partner as you shouldered your bag. The kid had already been through enough already: he didn’t need accosting on top of it all. 
The dashing prince sighed out and stretched his arms. “Ahhhh Cairo. It’s been a while; too long actually.” 
The airport was humid: the kind of sticky warmth that dripped down your neck in a matter of seconds to then get caught above your lip. It wasn’t much help to the anxiety that already had seeped into your veins. The closer you got to a gun the more comfortable you would be. You and the other two guards created a formation around the prince with two in the front and the other in the flank. While each of you were dressed in regular street clothes, your responsibility of his detail still hung over your head with a severe air. 
Chan threw his arm over the young student with an obscene grin. His hair had become a little disheveled from the plane seat and his hoodie, but he didn’t appear to mind. Seeing him so normal was somewhat of an odd change to your previous unbreakable impression of him. 
“Seungmin my friend, you’ve never lived until you’ve been to Cairo. I’ve never seen another place so enriched in history in my whole life...it puts my kingdom to shame. It’s almost like...you can just feel the time here: hundreds of thousands of years...beauty, art, food, industry...I’ve got a thing or two to learn.” 
Seungmin nodded at the prince’s grandiose gestures in the terminal with an enamored smile. “I can’t wait to see it!” 
Your partner put a firm hand on the prince’s back to guide him to the baggage claim. “We won’t be here for long, so, don’t get too excited. We’ve come here for one reason and we shouldn’t dally otherwise.” 
The young boy appeared to frown, and Two bit his lip with a little chuckle. “Way to crush the kids dreams F.” 
“You know the mission, J.” Jeongin gritted his teeth with the words. “Everything is set, there will be a car waiting for us in the garage, and at the hotel we’ll have anything we need.” 
Prince Chan lulled his head back with heels clicking on the flooring. Rogue strands of his hair hung over his sunglasses where he threw a look back at you while pulling them down. 
“Don’t forget our little deal Bee? We’ll have time for a little pleasure.” 
The white haired agent rolled his eyes with gusto then adjusted the royal’s glasses over his face. “We’ve still got to be careful, you Highness. We never know where they could have eyes.” 
“I know where I’ve got mine...” He turned back once more to throw his cockiness in your general direction. 
“Listen to F, your Highness...if you want to live.” 
“Oooo. Feisty as ever, Bee. I love it when you bite back.” Chan turned to his new pet, Seungmin, “She’s really something isn’t she?”
The young man nodded, but not necessarily because he agreed, but it just seemed like it better to agree with a prince than to disagree with him. 
The air appeared to turn even thicker in the summery and arid city and your group approached the parking lot half shaded. Outside of the cement lot, iridescent waves of heat wiggled on the horizon, and further, the astonishing urban sprawl of Cairo, and just over it, the stretch of the Nile and Giza. Palms and other varieties of plants spotted the landscape and above it all, a perfectly crystal blue sky streaked with thin clouds. Had the circumstances been different, you really would have wished to have been there for pleasure. 
“This one. Right here.” Jeongin announced upon spotting the black armored sedan. It wasn’t the most inconspicuous vehicle, but you were prioritizing safety over aesthetics. Your partner touched his index fingerprint to the car door’s invisible panel, and it flashed blue just as the lock had at the safehouse with the ticking clock insignia. 
Two whipped his head around to make one last check of the surroundings before taking off his sunglasses and reddened eye. “Get in. Both of you.” He urged the prince and the student. He popped the drivers side open to find a different pair of glasses in the storage compartment: gold framed aviators. 
“Huh,” He said happily while putting them on. “This is more my style.” He rummaged around a bit more to find a new pair of black framed glasses there too. “Fox! Think fast!” He threw them over to your partner who sighed out with relief. 
“Thank god.” 
The trunk opened with a mechanical sounding creek, and you lifted up the trunk bed to find your whole arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP5′s submachines, Remington 870 shotguns, and Glocks complete with thigh holsters. Among the pile of metal, various knives and other weapons were held in foam holders. 
“They’ve got knives back there?” Two asked while pulling the rearview mirror to see. 
“Oh yeah. What? You more of a knife guy?” You teased while looping your thigh holster over your cargo pants. It fit just right. 
The illusive man popped his gum with a shiny smile. “‘Don’t ever have to reload them...that’s what I’m saying.” 
“Thank you Carroll.” Jeongin sighed upon seeing the thick laptop among the weapons. “Finally I can do some real work. That kid’s damn Chromebook was killing me. I nearly short circuited it trying to connect to our network.” 
“You what?!” Seungmin was suddenly much more interested. 
“Dont worry yourself too much, its still fine.” 
“Are there cameras in here?” You quickly asked your partner. 
“Agency should’ve fried them a long time ago. Why?” 
From the trunk bed you sized up the Glock to feel its weight and how cool it settled into your sweating hand. You unloaded the magazine to see that it had already been filled. 
“Carroll. She really is too kind to us.” You slid the magazine back in then, pulled back the slider to lock it once more, catching Chan’s adoring glance. 
“Something interesting pretty boy?” 
The prince appeared to shiver a little, but brushed it off sighing, “Oh, nothing.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
Either it was Carroll or the King, but someone had spared no expense on the young prince. The sun set upon the sparking Nile where you had arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza. 
Anything for His Royal Highness The Prince. 
The towering and gleaming building was a sight to behold in and of itself. It was nestled right into the riverside anchored with several leisurely sailboats bopping in the evening breeze. As day crept into night, the city grew with a swell of lights washing as far as you could see. Extensive bridges and roadways glowed with headlights and every building appeared to be illuminated along with more boats strolling down the river in a rainbow of colors and music. 
The prince craned his head as close to the window as he could and rubbed together his hands excitedly. He looked from you to your partners, finally making a disapproving scoff. 
“Come on. You’re not just a little excited to be here?” 
“We’re here on business, how many times do we have to explain?” Jeongin typed away at his computer from the front seat. 
“Bee?” He looked back to you with a hopeful little glint to his eye. 
“Like Fox said...tomorrow is our appointment with White Rabbit, then we’re on the first flight back home for you.” 
The young prince frowned, but this quickly faded once he had seen the golden brass doors to the magnificent hotel. Seeing the state that the four of you were in, it was a bit comical that you had rolled up to a place such as this. Immediately a valet and bellhop jogged up to the car wearing perfectly pressed uniforms and spotless shined shoes. Little did they know you had no belongings to your name...the rest was waiting in your suite: the royal kind. 
Seungmin cranked his neck to take in the scale of the building in all of it’s regal glory and let out an airy laugh his with his backpack straps snapped tight. 
“Holy shit.” He exclaimed with a giant smile 
Two rose a “no thank you” hand to the valet, and asked him where the garage was in perfect Arabic. The gesture surprised you...as many things did with that man. Jeongin gave a little nod in appreciation to the bellhop and expressed with his own broken version of Arabic that you group had no luggage. The young man was confused, but still gladly took the bills that Jeongin had slipped into his hand for the inconvenience. 
“We’re staying here?” Seungmin wondered while he followed you in. 
“When you travel with The Prince, it comes with some perks.” Chan tore off his glasses with a particularly prideful grin. 
“I feel like I need to pay for just...breathing in here.” 
Indeed, it was a luxurious and grand place. The atrium was patterned with various plush lounge chairs and benches and the path was made of emerald green marble tiles with swirling designs of beige loops. Thick, round columns also supported the ceilings in the lobby, and crystal glass chandeliers sparkled. On several tables, massive floral arrangements had been freshly placed, and you wondered how much the hotel must've paid for them to look that good just to have them replaced the next day. 
A couple formalities were exchanged with the worker at the front desk, and soon the keycards to the royal suite were placed into your hands. Seungmin held his piece of plastic as if it were a gold bar in his hands whereas Chan shoved it right into his front pocket. 
“Everything that we should need should be up in the room.” You told the group who were too distracted to hear what you had just said. 
Just before you had entered the elevator, a tug at your sleeve stopped you in your tracks. Jeongin pulled you back, nodding at Two to go with the others up first. 
“Remember what we talked about before?” He muttered in the hollow and stone corridor. “About the prince?” 
“I need to stay beside him?” 
Your partner nodded with a furrowing brow. “We’re out in the open here, it’s a big city...anyone could be watching us. No distractions, no messing around, no anything. We see White Rabbit and we leave. Hell, I’m even inclined to make sure he doesn’t leave the room...” 
“Jeongin...” You squeezed your partner’s shoulder which felt stringy and tense under your fingertips. “I got it. Trust me. He won’t leave my sight. I promise.” 
“..Okay.” He said with a nervous brush to his hair, then he pressed the elevator button with his knuckle. 
“You...okay?” 
The young man appeared to snap out of a trance. “What? ...Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m keeping it together fine. It’s just...there’s a lot riding on this mission. I don’t...” 
The gold and reflective elevator dinged to the ground floor. 
“We can’t disappoint Carroll with this one. There’s too much riding on it...I can’t disappoint Carroll.”      
You invited your partner into the marbled and mirrored interior of the small space. 
“Don’t worry, we won’t.”
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━ 
 Even without the help of his royal helpers, Chan managed to clean himself up nice...provided, only the finest clothes had been sent for him to wear. While they weren’t the usual designer labels that he was used to, it was clear that they had been picked out from the finest markets and boutiques in the area. Chan, as he always was, was a prince to the full extent of the word. After a shower and some perfume to his chest, he was the same man that you had been introduced to. 
A loose linen shirt swayed from his frame with little regard for the usage of buttons. He wore slacks that had been pressed made of a kind of fabric that you had never seen before, but looked airy and comfortable. As always, there was a small assortment of shoes for him to choose from as well. He picked brown leather loafers, then tucked up his sleeves to reveal his arms; scratched as they were, but still strong and spiderwebbed with thick veins. 
Arrangements had been made for you to share one of the bedrooms with him--as much as you had fought it at first. Chan was thrilled with the idea, and gladly let you settle into his room with your small assortment of sidepieces and modest set of clothes by regulation of The Agency. While it had mostly been denim button downs and several kinds of functional trousers, they had sent an evening gown. 
The silky white fabric was not unlike the dress that had worn for the gala, but it appeared to be even more sultry once you held it to your frame. The thin spaghetti straps barely held to your shoulders and the back dipped nearly halfway down your back. 
Knowing the man that you had an appointment with, you figured the dress would make it just a little bit easier to talk to him. Along with it, there was a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace that glinted with the same sheen of the sea. 
“You’ll look gorgeous in that.” Chan said while slipping on a wristwatch. “I’m sure that it will suit you perfectly.” 
The wooden bedside nightstand creaked when you put your holster and Glock in with a matching matte black knife. You had to be careful with that one, as it had nearly cut your finger upon inspection earlier.         
“Hm. I think the both of us know that you’d prefer it on these lovely marble floors rather than on me. Correct?” 
The confident prince strode across the room in the dim lighting of a couple lamps with stained glass shades. Outside of the balcony attached to your room, the sheer curtains blew in the night air and distorted the city lights across the river. Further, Cairo Tower surged with a pink light wrapping around the length were the cylinder pierced the sky. 
“Maybe.” He tutted, then crinkled the king-sized bed where he sat. The prince’s disposition was alluring, there was no denying. He tiled his head to inspect you further, jaw clenching with a sharp angle and a testing glare to his brown pupils. The man smiled slightly while rubbing his index and ring finger down the sleeve of your considerably less scratchy blouse. 
“I hope that during our time here Bee, I’ll get to know you a little better. I’m...really looking forward to our drink later. I made reservations for us.” 
“Reservations? When did you do that?” 
“Oh. When you were showering.” He smirked at his sneaky plans unbeknownst to you. 
“If you think that I’m letting you go anywhere else besides this hotel--” 
“--Bee?” The young royal grew quieter, softer, careful even. His hand cascaded from your arm down to your waist where he tentatively went to grab at your hip and squeeze lightly there. 
While your first reaction was to swat him away, your second crept up on you unexpectedly, and swelled with a kind of confused euphoria feeling the pressure of him on your body. You let his hand linger there, thumb pressed into your hipbone. 
“You don’t need that dress to be beautiful.” 
His words snapped you back; sickly sweet, and sticky in your chest. You cast his hand off of you. 
“You’re crossing the line, your Highness. Don’t...don’t touch me again.” 
The royal sighed as he rose, then inspected his face in the sizeable mirror. Each of his cuts and scars had been skillfully covered with makeup the best he could manage.  
“Bee, I’d cross multiple lines for you. I thought you knew?”    
“THIS BED IS FUCKIN’ AMAZING!!” Seungmin called from the opposite of the suite. 
The prince smiled, then followed you to the door. 
“I’ve already got enough on my hands, your Highness. I ask that you not distract me.” 
“Distract you?” 
As soon as you had said it, regret bit at the tips of your ears. You couldn’t meet his teasing glances, but rather slid one of your more discrete sidepieces into your crossbody bag--as if guns as such could be such a thing. 
“I-I...I’ll sleep on the couch.” You then resolved out loud, however the prince chuckled at your sudden break. 
“As you wish Bee.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
“I think that this is the best meal that I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!!” 
Seungmin kicked his legs under the table to the embarrassed glances of both Jeongin and Chan. Before you, the prince had ordered a variety of both cold and hot mezzah dishes with a couple main entrees for you to share. While he was the only one to drink, he indulged in the most expensive wine that the hotel had to offer. Granted, everything would be paid for in cash from The Agency, however the Prince swore up and down that anyone could order anything that they wanted and that The Agency would be paid back in full. You and your partners ate modestly, however the young student didn’t hold back. As the boy shoved his face, it appeared to make the prince happy to see him eating so well. 
You were still an odd group, and garnered curious glances from other restaurant guests. While they were only glances in passing, they still didn’t make you feel any better. You had already drawn enough attention to yourself with you being an odd mix of foreigners who each held themselves differently. You could sense that you partner felt it too while he sipped at his seasonal soup with eyes up to scan the room as he did so. 
Chan threw his arm behind your chair to take in the rest of the room: perfectly decorated with jade green chandeliers and perfectly symmetrical wallpaper and furnishings. It was as if he felt somehow content with your strange little group; like he was the ringleader of it all or some king of the round table. For a moment, he paused to watch the way that the boats passed by on the river from the window nearest to him and sighed. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying running for his life in this way. 
Two cleared his throat and unbuttoned his fashionable suit jacket as the waiters came to clear the table for dessert. 
“So. What are the specs for tomorrow?” 
Jeongin fiddled with his glasses, then dabbed away at the corners of his mouth. “He’s invited us to come around 11pm. He wants us to dress up too--as I’m sure you’ve all seen the clothes that have been provided for us. He apparently loves his formalities, but, anything to make him feel more comfortable I suppose. His men will meet us in the front and take us to him, then we try our best not to fuck it up.”
“--Which we won’t.” You soothed your partner. 
Seungmin perked up, “I’m coming too?” 
“How else are we going to look after ya, kid?” Two ruffled up the young man’s hair. 
“W-wait. Didn’t you say that it’s a club? Will they even let me in? I’m not like, 21 yet? I mean, I will be in a couple months--” 
“--Ahhh you’re so cute.” Chan beamed. “If you’re rolling with us that doesn’t matter.” 
Seungmin blushed and played with the condensation of his water glass. “Oh.” 
Your partner shifted in his seat. “Speaking of. Considering that you’re “one of us” now. We need to discuss something important with you. Your identity.” He looked over to you to finish the rest of the speech that had been pushed off for just a bit too long. 
“Your name...is your most valuable asset. It’s the only thing about yourself that you can keep for yourself. No one else should know it besides you...and, well, us. If they know your name, they know your family, they know where you live, where you go to school, even that girl that you had a crush on in the fourth grade. Got it?” 
Seungmin gulped dry with blown out eyes. “I-I think that I understand.” 
“What do you want us to call you from now on?” 
He paused, considering towards the ceiling. ”Well...if you’re B, and he’s F...and he’s J...I could be S? Simple enough right?” 
“S it is then.” 
The waiters arrived with every dessert possible: chocolate cake, Crème Brule, fruit cheesecake garnished with mint, as well as traditional desserts like Om Ali and Mehalabiya--a type of milk pudding dressed with delicate, pink, edible flowers. 
Seungmin--now dubbed S--made happy little eating sounds while he tried a little bit of everything. 
“Thank you.” You finally spoke to the prince, who now smelled strongly of Lotus and Jasmine. 
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my friends.” 
The word hung in the air, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. 
Friends. 
“Where is this reservation that you mentioned?” 
He took a swing from his crystal glass with finesse. “Hm. That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 
“Jeongin told me that I need to keep an eye on you, you know that? It would be best if we didn’t leave the hotel at all--” 
“--But what would be the fun in that?” The prince nearly pouted. 
From the others side of the table, Two in his aviators brushed off his lap before standing. “I’m going to get some sleep, if that’s alright with you? I’m feeling pretty jetlagged and I want to be prepared for tomorrow. Excuse me.” 
The slender man bowed to you at the table, then even deeper to the prince. 
“What was that about?” Jeongin muttered while he poked at the thin caramel layer of his French dessert. 
“Actually, I think I want to head to bed too, I’m stuffed.” Seungmin rubbed his belly in his contentment. ��Also...I think I might have homework due...heh. I don’t know...I’ve got to figure out all these all these time differences and stuff.” He pushed in his chair then gave the prince a deep bow. “Thank you, your Highness.” 
“My pleasure.” Chan said with a tiny bow back. “Rest up, kid.” 
With the empty holes at the table, the silence was deafening. 
“And then there were three.” Jeongin yawned. “Bee? Wanna do some laps in the morning? I saw that they had a pool? Wanna see if you can beat my record...again?” 
“Psh. I was coming off that biochemical cocktail the last time we tired. You had an advantage.” 
“Then you’ll beat me? Hm! I look forward to that.” Your adorable partner flashed the first smile that you’d seen in a couple days. You missed it, you realized. 
“Sleep tight Bee. Goodnight your Highness.” 
“Thank you Fox.” The prince mirrored his warm smile. 
Knives and forks clinked on china in the dining room, and music softly payed the soundtrack of the evening. A low hum filled the space where the tourists and patrons chatted among themselves. It was peaceful and normal amidst everything that had been pricking your skin and plaguing worry over your mind. The prince merely sighed, sparking eyes reflecting the candles dying out on the table. 
“And now it’s just the two of us.” 
“Seems like it.” 
“Can I whisk you away now?” 
“Whisk? Who said that I would allow any whisking?” 
“Come on...Bee. Just this one time? I promise to be on my best behavior.” 
You laughed out incredulously at the comment. “You out of all people can’t promise something like that.” 
“I guess you’re right about that. But...still, I won’t try to make a scene or anything.” 
The royal placed his napkin on the table with his knife and fork respectfully tilted off the edge of his plate. 
“Follow me?” 
Chan held out his hand. It was pink with heat and scraped a little from the glass that had pierced the fragile flesh. In some way, you had felt a twinge of guilt seeing the small injury knowing that you couldn’t have protected him well enough then. You allowed him to lace your fingers with yours, and felt the rough cuts of his scars in your palm. 
You had promised to yourself that he would never know such pain again. 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
“Annnd...this is it!” 
You had taken all of twenty paces outside of the hotel when Chan gestured with open arms to the riverfront. Just at the riverbank, a steamboat was anchored with open doors for hotel guests to enter. The massive, multideck, white steamboat shone like the moon peaking at the ocean’s horizon. Each of the semi-circle windows were lined with white lights and from the inside, the delightful sound of laugher and live music spilled out to the glossy water of the Nile. 
“W-what is this?” 
“Well…it’s a dinner cruise but I just signed us up for the bar part. Are you...surprised? I thought that it must be pretty safe considering that we’re on the water and no one can drive up and shoot at us.” 
“I mean...it’s a bit closed off, but nothing that I can’t handle.” 
The prince held out his arm for you to lead the way, then took your hand to help you watch your step down the stairs. Chan provided his name to the conductor in elegant sounding Arabic, leaving you shocked. 
“Y-you speak Arabic too?” 
Chan chuckled once more, taking your hand in his to bring you down the creaking wood deck with swinging with lanterns above your heads. 
“As a royal and diplomat, it’s best for me to know how to communicate if I might need to.” 
“I must say your Highness, I am definitely impressed.” 
“What? You thought I was just another pretty face?” The charming prince escorted you to a room within the steamboat that was lined with red velvet carpets and small bar tables with tea candles and water lilies floating in a shallow dish. He pulled out your chair before his own, then settled with hands folded in his lap. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand too, although I could use a refresher; that was so long ago, back when I went to school.” 
“Hand-to-hand? Well! You really are full of surprises.” 
The prince appeared smug and faintly amused by the compliment as he crossed his legs under the table and leaned in with his dizzying floral scent. 
The waitress appeared and Chan flexed his language skills once more while he ordered a Hemmingway Daiquiri for himself and a French 75 for you. Somewhere off in the distance or perhaps a different part of the boat, louder and more excitable music played along with the echoing claps of those who listened along. Here, it was much quieter, and the loud sound was replaced with a jazz song that you had heard before--likely from your more formative years. 
“It’s a beautiful night.” Chan began, “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me. I know that I’ve been a bit forward, but, I appreciate you entertaining me.” 
“If I had said no, what would’ve happened then?” 
“Well, maybe I would’ve dropped it, but...knowing you...I don’t think that I would’ve given up easily.” 
The waitress returned with the drinks on a silver platter: his grapefruit pink and yours the color of a lemon drop. 
The royal rose his glass for you to clink with yours, “To...adventures.” 
“To adventures.” 
With a resounding sound, the glasses met, and you watched the way that the shimmering liquid ripped across the prince’s nose. 
The two of you sat for several moments more, saying nothing, but sipping and soaking in the night breeze and the humidity that made your whole body feel blanketed with a sense of calm. You had felt this way before back at the safe house, and it snuck up on you once more. Simply exisiting with the prince provided you with a sense of solace that had long since faded from your life. The sense of responsibility that you felt for the man was noticeable, but you couldn’t help but notice how he provided for you the same sense of safety that you did for him. 
Perhaps it was the loneliness of the job and the solitude that came along with it. Was that you craved to be touched? Listened to? Admired? You had distanced yourself from irrational things such as love and other feelings of attachment. In your line of work, people died often, and you had to move on just as fast as their lives had been taken from them. You supposed that you had become unfeeling at this point...but this prince, so full of himself and focused on the material...there was something about him that reminded you how to feel. 
“Bee? What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully. 
“Oh...nothing.” 
“You looked kind of lost here.” 
“Was I?” 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. Maybe the drink is just...getting to me.” 
“Just one drink?” Chan giggled a bit, “I didn’t take you for being a lightweight Bee. I thought that they gave you like, drinking lessons or something back at that agency of yours.” 
“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have more than one drink anyway.” 
The prince nodded, understanding. “So, what will you tell me about yourself? Is there anything that you’re allowed to tell me? Or...will you always be this mysterious, beautiful, enigma?” 
“Me? Enigmatic? Ha! Hardly.” 
“Well? What then?” The prince sucked at the lime garnishing his glass. “Since I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your real name, I’d love it if you could tell me something.” 
Over the stereo, the muted trumpet played along with the twang of thick upright bass strings,
“I suppose I could tell you how...” Chan leaned in, “I didn’t want to join The Agency. At first.” 
“Oh? Why’s that?” 
“It felt like a bit of a last resort and anything that is a last resort is something that can’t come easy.” 
Chan titled his head as if to say, I’m listening. 
“Life...fucking sucks sometimes. Sometimes...you’re left...living with your sleazy uncle with a letter addressed to you post mortem telling you to carry on the family name if you want to feel some connection to the parents that you never knew.” 
The royal cast his eyes down, “I-I’m so sorry.” 
“The Agency has been everything I’ve known since I was a teenager. This life...it’s everything. I think in a way I feel obligated to it...since it was what took my parents from me...I owe it to them to do a job that they spent so much energy on so that it wasn’t in vain.” 
You stopped, realizing the weight of your words in the air and how they cut like the blade of the knife that you kept tucked in your waistband sheathed in a leather cover. Once the sharp metal was taken from it’s confines, there was nothing to protect those from the damage it could do. 
“Bee...I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine what it must be like to loose your parents and have been thrown into this life...no one deserves that.” 
“Its okay.” You sighed. “I did it to myself. Now, it’s of no concern. I can take care of my own, and I have a new family. I try not to look back.” 
As he had done numerous times before that night, Chan’s hand reached out for yours under the table, brushing up against the white cloth. 
“I can’t say how much I appreciate you enough for what you do; risking your life for me...I owe you everything Bee.” The prince softened, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. 
The chug of the steamboat hissed softly behind you in that back bar room, and just through the windows, you could see the stars dotting the sky just as they did in any corner of the world. They were a reminder that while some things changed, others didn’t. 
The echo of footsteps on the deck clicked, causing you to turn a careful glance back to the direction of the sound. The man who entered was dressed in a casual cotton button up and navy slacks. On the white of his breast, he wore a pin holding the symbol of a crest.
“Lee Minho?” Chan gasped. 
“Your Highness!” The handsome man bowed immediately with a startled little smile. 
The friendly prince stood immediately upon seeing the other royal to shake his hand. “What a coincidence that we meet again!” 
Lee Minho shied with a polite smile while fiddling with his hair that looked to be masterfully styled. “Must be...fated. Or something like that.” 
“Are you alright? Last I saw you was at the shooting at the gala. I’m so glad to see that you’re safe. You didn’t get injured I hope?” 
This close, Lee Minho had oddly cat-like eyes that were as intense as they were alluring. He was just as you had remembered him to be--put together and polished like a true royal, dastardly handsome with all the right curves to his body, and just enough mystery to him to pique the interest of anyone who had sensed his air--just as the prince had. 
“What are you doing in Cairo?” Chan asked, gesturing for the stranger to pull up a chair. 
Lee Minho swatted away the question with an annoyed cringe. “Royal stuff, you know how it goes. Everyone is always trying to poke their noses in places where they shouldn’t be...unless they’re looking to get themselves killed. That's why they send me. I’m dispensable.” 
“Oh, I’d hardly say that.” 
In seconds the prince’s entire body had shifted towards the direction of the other man, and hung onto each of his words as if they were a siren song. 
“When you’re not as high up in the ranks as you are your Highness, royalty starts to feel more like servitude than a legitimate position.” 
“So, where are you poking your nose?” 
Lee Minho’s eyes nervously flicked to you, and Chan realized that he had skipped right over introductions. 
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce the two of you. Minho, this is Bee, my--” 
“--I’m a member of his detail.” You spoke for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally Lee Minho. I recall seeing you at the gala.” 
Minho bowed slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” 
It was obvious that you had made the man uncomfortable, just as you had liked it to be. While you could see what the prince had seen in him, you had the disposition to be much less trusting than his Highness. 
“Which royals are employing you? I’d love to know! It’s always exciting for me to learn about who is plotting what. The royal drama keeps me really entertained.” 
Minho sat up straighter, then waved a hand for the waitress to come scuttling over. 
“Some of my family members. You wouldn’t know them, we’re all dreadfully insignificant to be honest. They heard all this business about those men with the red crests and they’re starting to get scared. After they targeted...you, they’re wondering which royal family might be next...if any. I’m here to find out who they are, their whereabouts, anything else.” 
“Wow! That’s actually what we--”
“--And where are you planning on getting this information if I may ask?” You hushed the prince’s loose lips as quickly as you could. 
Minho leaned in over the flickering candle to lower his tone, “I heard that there’s an informant here in the city who might now something about this group. They’ve been popping up on national news too as of late. I’m looking to talk to him tomorrow evening. Luckily, I was able to make an appointment but it was no small feat. I had to bribe him to high hell to get him to speak with me.” 
“Hm. Sounds familiar.” You mumbled. 
Chan’s eyes widened, then he looked back to you to ask for permission. You gave him a nod.
“It seems like we’re here for a common purpose my friend.” The prince leaned in to bridge the gap between them, his hand notably reaching to rest on the other man’s thigh below the table’s surface. “We’re seeking similar information and I think we might be speaking of the same informant.” 
“But your Highness, isn’t it dangerous it you to do something like this?” 
“Not when I’ve got her around.” Chan threw a sly grin to you across the table. “I’m well protected. And you? Where’s your detail?” 
“I’m afraid that I’m out here alone. Like I said, when you’re as low in the ranks as I am...” 
“What? That’s terrible!! They aren’t even protecting their own? Bee!!” 
“Yes, your Highness?” You already knew where this was going. 
“Let’s bring Minho along with us tomorrow! We know that there’s safety in numbers--” 
“Your Highness, in case you haven’t noticed, our hands are already a bit full...”
“I can fend for myself.” Lee Minho suddenly piped. “Travelling alone, I’ve picked up a few things about protecting myself. You don’t have to protect me, but, I appreciate the offer.” 
“Nonsense! You should come with us! I would feel more comfortable if you did rather than went by yourself.” 
Lee Minho gave the royal a smile in his thanks, it was pure and a little adorable you had considered...but that was likely the champagne going to your head. 
“Really? I appreciate it, your Highness.” 
While you were distanced, you nearly could’ve sworn that the prince had squeezed the other’s leg reassuringly, and you were willing to bet he had rubbed it with his thumb too just as he had done to you. 
After long, the waitress returned with Lee Minho’s drink, and the two men chatted like old college buddies while you slipped away at your drink in an attempt to make it last as long as you could. While Chan did try to engage you in conversation, it would never last for long until he would become puppy-eyed over the stranger again. In the end, you wondered if the tipsy prince would’ve also confessed to this man if he had one too many drinks. 
The table bumped with their jovial and restless legs, and you could only imagine what wandering hands sought to discover. 
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The hotel was quiet save for the click of heels on the marble floors from ladies who had just gotten off the steamboat and clung to their husbands in their drunken stupor. They cackled in the empty and golden lobby, then pressed hasty kisses into the stuttering mouths of their husbands who’s mouths then smeared with hot pick lipstick. Chan giggled at the sight while he tripped over his own feet too. 
“Ahhhh. Being in love is so cute.” He adored them once you had entered the elevator. 
“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” 
The prince hiccupped, then shook his head. “Unlike you I know how to hold my liquor. I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy I think. Must be the jet lag.” 
The tones for each floor beeped in the compartment, and Chan lulled his head back and forth. 
“So. Lee Minho huh?” You said, not even able to help yourself. The alcohol had brought you a bit of an edge...so you thought. 
“Lee. Minho.” He sighed out dreamily. “What do you think of him?” 
“I think I can’t trust anyone as long as I haven’t ran at least three background checks on them.” 
“Awww, Bee, you’re so thoughtful of me.” 
In the empty hallway, the prince with squinting eyes leaned against the doorframe to the royal suite, reaching out to brush up against your blouse once more. You let him, excusing his drunken state. After he did so, his eyes hazed over with something much different, while he looked exhausted, it was laced with something else: something much more longing. 
“Bee...fuck, I really want to kiss you again.” 
“Hm. That’s ripe coming from you who was just viciously flirting with Lee Minho.” 
You could see his head spinning in his dilated pupils. “What?” 
The door clicked open and you less than gracefully lead the prince through the dark to your shared bedroom. 
“B-Bee, what are you talking about?” 
You scoffed, “I’m not blind, you know.” 
“A-are you...jealous?” 
“W-what? Fuck no. I’m just...you can’t just...toss people around thinking that they’ll all bend to you.” 
Chan sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at his temples when you turned one of the lamps on. 
“I-I was doing that?” 
You tore a pillow from the bed as well as the throw blanket at the end. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Good evening, your Highness.” 
“Wait! Bee!” The young prince stumbled after you, stubbing his toe against the bedpost in the process. “Ah-FUCK!” He grunted. 
“What?” You growled back to him, half shrouded in the darkness of the suite living room. 
The royal stumbled out, eyes blank and backlit from the bedroom. While you couldn’t see him fully, you later could assume that there was something in him terribly torn and ripped in that moment that made little sense to him, as it did to you to. 
Arms reached out, bodies softly illuminated by the lights of the city, and the prince leaned himself fully into you, pressing bitter tasting lips to yours with a heat and desire that only seemed amplified the breather he had gotten. While he tasted of lime and grapefruits, with a twinge of alcohol. He was just as addictive as any vice. You wanted to feel him. As infuriating as he was, and oblivious, your abhorrence to him was just as strong as your attraction. 
“Mm, Bee--” He moaned directly into your mouth while shuffling both of you back to the bedroom. 
The prince’s trembling breath floated from his mouth to yours where he used both of his large hands to pull your face closer to his. You knew that in some way, there must have been something ingenuine about the whole scenario, but you didn’t care too much, not when kissing him felt like something. Maybe he had kissed you out of pity, or because he really had wanted to kiss you. You broke for seconds before both of your tangled limbs hit the bed. 
“Before...you said that you wouldn’t kiss me.” 
“I didn’t make any promises...but, how come...you said that you wouldn’t hesitate...? But you kissed ba--” 
You silenced the prince’s words with your own heated kisses that made little sense, only that kissing him as such felt good. You straddled the man while his hungry fingers traced all the way down your back. The prince’s hips sunk into the cushiony mattress, and you screwed him down even harder into it with your own heated hips grinding into him with as much pressure as you could muster. 
“This is what you want, right?” You pulled at his lip with your teeth to hear him groan from it. 
“Is it...what you want?” Chan got out between more kisses. 
You could blame it on loneliness or lack of touch all that you wanted, but it wasn’t even close. 
“Wait. Wait.” Chan suddenly interjected. 
“What? What is it?” 
The prince looked up at you, that haze in his eyes now fading to something much different that wasn’t covered in the lust that he held before. 
“Bee...I-I don’t know if I want it to happen this way. It feels...it’s not...” 
“Not what?” 
He brushed his hand upward now to caress your face, lingering on the side of the peach fuzz on your cheek. “You deserve better than whatever the hell this is.” 
“Oh, so when I finally want to fuck you, you’re saying it isn’t right?” 
“I’m saying, I’m drunk, it’s late, clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you, and I want to know what it is before we do anything else. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
It might’ve been Lee fucking Minho, or it might’ve been something else much stickier for you to admit, but seeing the prince like this, it was too much. He was gorgeous under you, practically angelic looking. 
“I-I’m...complicating things.” You whispered out, and the prince softened even further. 
“That’s what it is? Bee, I told that you don’t have to worry about--” 
“--Yes. Yes I do...your Highness. I-I can’t feel...” 
“Bee--let’s just talk about--” 
The prince might’ve said more, but his words faded into murmurs once you closed his door behind you, then crawled onto the couch in Jeongin and Seungmin’s room, locking their door too. 
~🌹~
Bunch of (Ro)ses!
@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz
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tanzaniiite · 4 years
Text
ROAD TRIP • SEIJOH THIRD YEARS
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requests: OPEN
warnings: cursing & stupid high school antics
word count: 2.2k
a/n: this idea has been on my noggin for so long omg, enjoy!
please reblog and reply, engagement is both fun & important ✨
[not edited]
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this was fun, should i do more fics like this?
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“Ugh, are we there yet?”
Oikawa whined looking out the window with a forlorn look as if he was in a music video. You glanced at Iwaizumi, who was at the wheel, snickering slightly as you saw his eye twitch in annoyance. The five of you decided to take a road trip, sort of like a last hurrah, for your last year of high school.
This originally started as a small trip that was planned on senior ditch day but Matsun and Makki wanted to do a road trip. And so, senior ditch day morphed into senior ditch weekend. Of course, none of your parents approved this, so you guys were in for an earful when you returned. But as Hanamaki stated, when you got a screaming voicemail from your guardian, “Live in the moment, worry about that later”. And despite that being terrible advice, you listened anyway.
The destination of your little road trip is Tokyo which was a five to six hour drive. Some might say that’s not too long but traveling with Oikawa it feels like an eternity. He was already complaining. That was mainly because he was upset that you got shotgun and he didn’t. Originally you planned on sitting in the back with the disaster duo but Hajime insisted you sit in the front with him. Something about you being the most tolerable. Iwaizumi was obviously the driver because he’s the most responsible out of you five. It’s weird to think you guys just planned this trip just a week prior.
“So what are we doing for senior ditch day?”
You asked setting your tray down and sitting in between Matsukawa and Hanamaki. Issei just scoffed lightly, “I dunno what you’re doing but I’m sleeping” He answered. Takahiro laughed in agreement. “Probably practicing” Tooru replied. You pouted at their lame responses, “Hajime please tell me you have better plans than these losers” You pleaded. Iwaizumi looked up from his notes, “Uh, I don’t know, I’m probably going to come to school” He shrugged ignoring your disgusted face.
“I know y’all are not serious. This is the last year we’re going to be together like this, we should do something memorable”
You declared crossing your arms over your chest glaring at your friends. “Ew, you sound like Oikawa, getting all sentimental and shit” Makki quipped popping a french fry in his mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Oikawa hummed, “I mean they do have a point, let’s do something we’ll remember for years to come”. “Whatever, I guess I’m down” Matsukawa added rolling his eyes. The four of you looked at Iwaizumi, who mentally checked out of the conservation a while ago, waiting for his answer. “Count me out, my parents will kill me if I skipped school” He responded, causing the lot of you to groan. “Ugh, can you not be an upstanding student for like two seconds” You huffed leaning your head in your hand. Now the brunette looked up, “You guys know how my parents are, especially you Shittykawa” He stated, pointing his pencil at the setter. “Yeah yeah, we know how your parents are. Y/n’s parents are just as bad” Issei voiced.
You couldn’t help but internally groan, you remember how your guardians reacted when you brought the four boys to your house. “Don’t remind me. Senior Ditch Day is on a Friday, we barely do anything as is since it’s the end of the year” You said, “plus, you’re the only one of us that drives decently” You stated mustering up your best puppy dog eyes. Hajime looked at you before answering, “Fine, but if I get in trouble. You guys will be the ones talking to my parents”. And from there, the planning commenced.
Currently, you guys were only an hour out of Miyagi. Issei was already knocked out, Hanamaki was on his phone and Oikawa was sulking as per usual. “If you ask me if we’re there yet, one more time, I’ll have Makki push you out the car” He threatened his eyes never leaving the road. “Makki wouldn’t do that to me” Tooru claimed which caused ‘Hiro to snort. “Shut up, you know I will” He stated not even bothering to look up from his phone. Oikawa let out a dramatic gasp, “But we’re going 85 miles an hour on a highway!” He exclaimed. “Did I stutter?” Takahiro mumbled, still not paying any attention to his captain’s dramatics.
This was going to be a long four hours.
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You woke up leaning against something super warm, you opened your eyes taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in the front anymore, from what you could see, it looked like Oikawa got his wish of riding shotgun. You sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty” Oikawa teased. You were too sleepy and disoriented to come up with a witty comeback.
“Why.. why is Issei driving?”
That’s when you noticed Iwaizumi was the warm surface you were leaning against moments before. “I got tired of driving, we stopped at a gas station and switched places” Hajime explained noticing your confused face, “and you were sleeping so we moved you to the back”. You realized that not only were you leaning against Iwa but your legs were propped up on Makki’s lap. You nodded slightly, still tired despite waking up from a nap. “We spoil them rotten, don’t we?” ‘Hiro commented pinching your thigh causing you to whine slightly. “Shut up” You mumbled leaning into Iwaizumi’s side once again making him chuckle. Matsukawa looked at you through the rearview mirror,
“That’s right, Y/n gets all grumpy when they’re tired”
“Issei… focus on not crashing the car, not on me”
Oikawa let out a low whistle, “Woah, catty much?” He asked rhetorically laughing slightly. You rolled your eyes, “Whatever, how much farther?” You asked closing your eyes. Hajime glanced at his phone, “Two more hours” He replied. Tooru made a choked noise before turning around to face his childhood best friend. “Uh! They ask you if we’re there and get an answer, but when I ask, I get threatened?!” The brunette cried his eyebrows furrowing. The ace rolled his eyes, “Yeah, cause they’re not fucking annoying about it” He retorted. You pointed at Oikawa while laughing at his shocked face causing him to pout and crossed his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Uh oh, I think it’s Oikawa’s turn for a nap” Makki joked. Matsun hummed in agreement, “Yup, Y/n gets grumpy and Oikawa gets bratty” He laughed.
“Ugh whatever, at least I don’t snore like a chainsaw”
“Says the man who can’t sleep in any other position besides fetal”
“Dude shut up! It’s comfortable!”
Iwaizumi sighed, already knowing this petty argument wouldn’t end anytime soon. He looked down at you, “Who are you messaging?” Hajime inquired, peering at your phone. “No one, just some first years in my DMs” You hummed noncommittally. “You still leading those poor kids on?” Hanamaki asked. Glancing at Makki you pursed your lips, “I’m not leading them on… I’m just entertaining the antics” You replied smiling innocently and batting your eyelashes. “Yo, remember when that one first year confessed to you in the middle of lunch?” Issei asked slowing at a red light. You sat up suddenly, “Oh my god yes! That was so embarrassing!” You exclaimed. “You were embarrassed? Imagine the kid when you rejected him” Iwaizumi countered raising an eyebrow. “The second-hand embarrassment was strong on that one” Takahiro agreed, “Y/n’s a heartbreaker,” He said shaking his head.
You gasped, “I’m not! I’m just not interested in people like three years younger than me” You explained defending yourself. “Well, your choices are limited, since all the people in our grade are scared of us for whatever reason” Tooru stated with his eyes closed and head leaning on the window, looking like he would clonk out soon. “Yeah cause y’all are intimidating as fuck” You claimed. Issei chuckled, “Mm, yeah we kinda are” He admitted. “If they really liked you, they wouldn’t be scared to confess” Hajime shrugged. You smiled widely, “Ok king! My fault” You laughed giving him a high five. “Wait but if we’re so intimidating how come girls are always throwing their panties at Oikawa” Hanamaki questioned.
“Cause he’s not the intimidating one, it’s mainly Iwa and Matsun”
“Matsun is not intimidating, he looks out of it half of the time”
“Not out of it, more like zooted”
You quipped, laughing when Issei playfully glared at you through the rearview mirror. “Bro, remember when Kindaichi found out we were going on this trip and asked to come?” Takahiro laughed. “Stop! Y’all are so mean to him” You said kicking Makki slightly with your foot. Matsukawa snorted, “No cause what did he expect us to say, “Sure buddy you can come!” Like dude nooo,” He mocked laughing loudly. You bit your lip in an effort to not laugh, “Stop this Kindaichi slander at once” You demanded holding back your own giggles. “Okay Y/n, are you saying that you would’ve said yes if he asked you?” The wing spiker inquired giving you a look. “Well.. no—” You started. “Exactly! You’re just as bad as us” Issei interjected.
“No, I am not! You two literally looked at each other and busted out laughing, you didn’t even answer the poor boy”
“Sorry… it was funny”
“That shit was hilarious”
Hajime cleared his throat, “Is Trashykawa sleeping? Haven’t heard him talk in a while” He asked drawing shapes into your shoulder absentmindedly. Matsun glanced at his friend who was definitely passed out against the window. “Yeah, he’s gone” The middle blocker responded.
“Should we draw on his face?”
“Oh absolutely”
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The car was fairly silent now, you guys were nearing the end of your road trip and it was later in the day. The sky was littered with reds and oranges as the sun started its daily routine. The sunset was bold, radiant, and just plain mesmerizing, you couldn’t help but stare in awe. You sighed inwardly, “I’m gonna miss you guys” You uttered looking out the window. Your four guy friends looked at each other before looking at you. Iwaizumi spoke up first, “What’s there to miss? We’re not going anywhere” He asked. “I know that but who knows when the next time we’ll do something like this?” You whispered refusing to look at them because you knew you would start crying if you did. Hanamaki nudged your foot with his hand, “Y/n stop being such a baby, we’ll still see each other—” He started before you interrupted.
“That’s not the point stupid. We’re all going our own separate ways. Iwaizumi’s going to school in America, Oikawa’s going to fucking Argentina, and we’re all going to different colleges. This sucks ass, I finally have a group of friends I love and now I have to leave them—”
“Hey, what did we just say? We’re not going anywhere. So what if we’re going down different paths? Holidays exist Y/n, you think Iwaizumi and Oikawa are gonna stay in America and Argentina all year round? Plus me and Makki’s colleges are not that far from yours, I could probably walk if I wanted to. Now stop sulking, you’re bringing down the mood”
Issei stated his eyes never once drifting from the road. You sniffed and leaned into Hajime’s side more, “Jeez, sorry” You mumbled playing with your fingers. If the car wasn’t quiet before, it sure was now. No one knew what to say, it seemed too early to make a joke about it and it was a conversation none of you were ready to have. But despite not being ready, Oikawa still voiced his opinion nevertheless,
“Well would you look at that, Y/n really does love us. And I thought you hated me”
You snorted, “I do hate you” You teased making a face at him which he gladly returned. But his demeanor suddenly became serious,
“Adding on to what Mattsun said, we’re not leaving forever Y/n. Graduation is like three months away, we still have time to hang out plus we have the summer so there’s that. I know you love us and can’t possibly live without us but I think you’ll manage”
You blinked in response to Oikawa’s little spiel, “You are so corny” You huffed looking down so he wouldn’t notice the small tears in your eyes.
“Ah! So when I do it it’s corny, what about that whole pitch Matsun did?!”
“Hey, I wasn’t corny. I was being real”
“Please, as if, you were just being mean”
“It’s called tough love, it isn’t made for softies”
Watching the two of them go back and forth once again was entertaining. And when Makki and Iwaizumi joined in, it was just one hundred times better. But seeing your best friends interact with one another just made you realize how much you love them. And although this may be your guy’s last high school adventure, it wasn’t going to your last endeavor with this crazy bunch. You smiled slightly to yourself,
“Man, I really do love you guys”
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tanzaniiite © 2021 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.
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urimaginespimp · 4 years
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His Hidden Gem pt 2
Alfie Solomons x Reader – to the rest of the world, well excluding Thomas of course, he was dead. That was until Tommy had an unexpected visitor who claims to be his wife.
Read part 1 here
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“Margate? I bet he hates it there.” You commented, riding shotgun next to a driving Mr. Shelby.
He didn’t comment, but a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He had to admit, at first, he didn’t quite see how you and Alfie managed to be married for seven years, but after listening to your ramblings while on your drive, he could see it now.
Your demeanor screamed dainty and rich. And yes, you are rich, but also near as crazy as Alfie.
“How long have you known that he’s alive?” You asked.
“When he sent me a letter asking me how Cyril was, though I doubt he remembers doing so.” He recalled. “And come to think of it now, he did also ask if the talks about his death was all the news people of Camden had about him. I think he was trying to know if people had discovered about your marriage.”
“Please enlighten me Mrs. Solomons, on how you both met.” Curiosity got the best of him.
You couldn’t stop your smile at the memory.
“Well if you must know, I was set to be betrothed to a man whose bare bottom only touched the finest of fabrics…” Thomas snorted at this. “I refused, saying I didn’t want to spend my life papmered next to a grown baby’s powdered bum all my life, got cut off and was left with practically nothing.”  You both chuckled.
“I ended up in Camden town, and intended to steal some bread in this poorly lit bakery, but ended up in a bargain with this weirdly attractive man, that he’d find me a place to stay if I go out for dinner with him. Three months later we got married. But because we chose to keep it secret, it was always just secret visits in each other’s places.”
“I rarely give compliments, Y/N. But I admire you for taking matters into your own hands in finding the truth. Even though seven months is a long time.”
“We all crave certainty.” You simply answered. There was a reason why it took you that long. And they were left in Camden under the care of a good friend who had no clue who their father was.
And If you had to be honest, you were trying to calm your nerves. You thank the universe that your husband is alive, but given how he’s gone so long without even trying to reach out, the question whether he’d still want you lingered.
“Should I just have settled with the information that he is alive?” You whispered to yourself.
“You’ll never know unless you actually go talk to him.” Thomas answered, having heard what you’ve said. “And you should, because I’m a stubborn gypsy man who rarely does favors, but I did this for the wife of a man who’s been a dick to me once or twice. Consider this opportunity lucky.”
“Why are you helping me then?”
“Well I’m not as heartless as I may seem. I once had a wife I dearly love before she took a bullet for me.” You offered your sympathy, and he continued. “Plus, I’m curious about seeing the Alfie Solomons possibly getting hit from a woman as small as you are.” He smirked at the thought, and you smiled in return.
“We never laid a hand on each other, Mr. Shelby. Not unless one asked to.” Thomas coughed at what you insinuated, but was clearly amused. “Though I might just need to slap this one out later.”
You didn’t know at which part of the long drive you fell asleep, but the next thing you know, Thomas Shelby was trying to wake you up.
“Oi lady.” He was waving a hand in front of your face for who knows how long. “I believe you have a husband to confront.”
Composing yourself, you slowly got out of the car. You were in the driveway of his house. From outside it was decent. Might even be a lot better than where Alfie was living in Camden.
Once you were both by the front door, you were starting to panic.
“You do think I’m making the right decisions, right?”
“I think a man who has chosen to be presumed dead without telling his wife owes her an explanation.” He nodded.
Mr. Shelby took to initiative to knock. Followed by another. And another one.
“Who are you and what the fuck do you want?” you heard your husband’s voice and his footsteps approaching.
“It’s Thomas. I brought you one of your treasures left in Camden.” He didn’t give you away, not risking not even getting the door opened.
Alfie swung the door open. “What the hell are you ta-…”  he faltered once he saw you standing next to Thomas.
You were also frozen in place.
Tommy was looking back and forth the both of you, probably waiting for the said slap to happen. You were too shocked, looking at your husbands face. Half of it now sits with scars, and an eye that was now missing the blue you love staring into.
“Y/N?” Mr. Shelby asked. This thankfully brought you back to your senses.
“Well how the hell am I to slap him if his face looks like that?!” You yelled, still looking at Alfie.
“Well he was the one who shot me on the face you admire so much, luv.” Alfie answered, still intensely staring at you. You snapped your head at Thomas, who brought his arms up in defense and started backing away.
“He asked me to.” He defended. “I think I’ll wait in the car. You two sort your marital stuff.”
Now left alone with each other, he gestured for you to come in and you obliged. But as soon as he closed the door behind him, you have thrown your shoe at the wall at his side.
“Luv, I-“
“What the fuck, Alfie?!” You yelled at him, your voice trembling. “You have the audacity to fucking call me that after not even reaching out? What, did you like your new house here so much, you forgot you had a wife?!”
Like a treacherous bitch, hot tears started spilling on your face. Alfie still stood by the closed door, looking at anywhere but you.
“If you didn’t want me anymore, the least you could’ve done was tell me.” No, out of all the scenarios you could’ve imagined, you never imagined yourself to be the first one to break upon seeing him again. But here you were. A mess.
“Of course, I still love you.” That was all he could barely whisper.
“You have a minute to tell me everything, Alfie Solomons, or you’d be dead to me forever.” You were still crying angry tears, but the determination on your face scared Alfie to the core. He knew you were dead serious.  
He started pacing back and forth while your eyes followed. He wasn’t trying to come up with an excuse, but was rather trying to figure out where to start.
A moment had passed and you took it as your cue to leave. Sighing in defeat, you shook your head and was about to head out the door forever when he caught your arm.
“I didn’t want to burden you, okay? I- I was feeling a little funny and one day I went to the doctor and he said I had this fucker called cancer.” You were frozen on your spot, looking at him, bewildered at the revelation.
“Now how could I be a good husband when I couldn’t even take care of my fucking self.” He looked away when a tear started to fall.
It was rare for your beast of a husband to shed a tear - he dreaded showing that side of him. So you knew that news of his illness really took a toll on him.
“Oh,  Alfie…” You whispered, softly cupped his scarred face.
“I didn’t marry you to become what I refused to marry into years ago. You know how much I love you. You were never and will never be a burden to us.” He finally took you in his arms.
“Us?” He caught on what you said, a glimmer on his face.
“Don’t worry my love, I tell the twins about you all the time.” You smiled at the thought of how Alfie would be a mush of a father to them.
“You were pregnant?” He pulled away and started to wiped away your tears with his thumb.
“I was three months long when you disappeared. I was hoping to find you sooner, but I just gave birth a month ago.”
“No, Y/N , I’m the one that’s sorry.” He insisted, showering your face with pecks.
“You’re going to be a great father, love.” You smiled at him.
“But half of the face you love so much is all gone now too. Hell, how am I even supposed to look after twins when I only have one seeing eye?” He stated, making you chuckle.
“Well lucky for you, I actually think the scar makes you even more attractive.” You smiled, touching them. “As for the eye, you have me. I never said you have to take care of them both at once.” You both chuckled.
“I'd hate to admit it, but I owe Thomas Shelby.” He answered and you nodded in agreement.
“We should probably invite him in, luv. We’re starting to seem rude leaving the king of Birmingham outside.” You chuckled.
“You know..." He started, tucking loose har beehind your ear. "I once said that hell would look like Margate, but I think it would actually be lovely if we finally settle here and have a place to call our own. No more sneaking around, no secret visits.”
“I'd love that.” You answered pulling him down for a kiss.
“Life is so much easier to deal with when you are dead.” He whispered.
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tokugou · 3 years
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do you have your favourite tdbk fanfics? (share pls i'm out of things to readdd) ♡
Finn!!! I gonna try my best to share something and hope you gonna like at least one of them. Also I didn't have time to read anything for a past month (?) so I am not very up to date with new ones.
okokok I need to share this one first because it was written for me (well i requested it but it still counts!!)
the right kind of home by @dabibones​
“comfort food”
I will start with on-going I really liked so far (I need to catch up with them too)
love lies bleeding by twopinchesofcinnamon - the best setting I could ever ask for - Zombie Apocalypse AU
“We could. Y’know,” Red-eyes sucks his teeth hard, as if his own words physically pain him. “Compromise.” Shouto lets himself slip down the railing until he’s propped against it. “What do you propose?” “Easy,” he zeroes in, contemplating, and Shouto can’t quite decipher him anymore. “Split the food and go our separate ways. We never need to speak again. Deal?” Shouto tips his chin up at the clouds. He blows out a breath, counting to seven. “Can I get two thirds?” Or: a loner, a wanderer, and flowers that glow in the dark.
20:04 by redonthemoon - it is finished already but I still didn't finish it
He’s now lying on his floor, naked, listening on repeat to the same song trying to come up with an idea of what he is supposed to do. He has watched all the movies that are out there about the topic. He has even taken the car and drove as far as he could. He has even taken a plane to another country and landed there but the second the clock hit midnight, he woke up on his bed, alarm pounding and the same date: Friday, October 28th. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t repeat the same day over and over.
let's ignore my 200 tabs opened on my phone - to read later - cos I am lazy, so I went through my bookmarks to pick the ones I think are good (and not embarassing to share) - under read more because yeah there is a few
better late than never 
Bakugou and todoroki get hit by a body swap quirk, and physical contact seems to be the only answer to their predicament
My Hero Love Story 
After the two of them are spotted at a Valentine's Day hero convention while on a mission, Shouto gets the brilliant (and extremely bad) idea to pretend he and Bakugou are there on a date together. It's brilliant because it's the perfect cover story. It's bad because he's desperately in love with Bakugou, and Bakugou has no idea.
Whatever It Takes 
That one where Bakugou agrees to pretend to date Todoroki just to piss off Endeavor, and ends up falling in love instead.
Bam Went My Heart 
Bakugou Katsuki is 100% not on a date with Todoroki Shouto
A fishy deal
Bakugou Katsuki, a rebel spy, attends an auction and leaves with more than just intel.
better than myth
Amidst domestic disasters, the infernal water bill and the armchair in the shower, there was a comfortable rapport between them. Bakugou was falling disgustingly in love with it.  
The Energy Between Us Blossoms Colors In My Heart
Todoroki Shouto has always been a bit curious about his punk roommate with red hair tips, but he never had the opportunity to get to know him better. That's until they get assigned as partners for their university projects.
Teenage Rebellion
Shouto dye his hair
Can I Get A Name For Your Order?
Coffee Shop AU
i like you so much (what do i do?)
Katsuki is really good at what he does, except when Shouto's there. another coffee shop au
i wanna ruin our friendship
Todoroki and Bakugou make out, become friends, and fall in love, all in that order.
You Set My Soul Alight
When enrolling into college, Shouto thought he’ll be freed from under his father’s thumb, but that’s not true. Never was true. Even here his father is controlling his life. To be more specific, his dating life out of all things. After witnessing his roommate, Bakugou, arguing on the phone with his mother about significant others, Shouto gets an idea. They form a compromise. Shouto is tired of his father orchestrating dates for him and Bakugou wants his mother to leave him alone. Nothing could go wrong.
Sweeter than Victory
In which Katsuki sets out to slay a chimera, ends up hunting down an elusive, mystical flower, and encounters a nymph known for being beautiful and unattainable. He really needs to have a damn talk with the Fates. Or Aphrodite. Because seriously, what kind of bullshit quest is this?
Sorry (Not Sorry) For The Distraction
Bakugou Katsuki may have made a mistake. Not that he'd call it that, of course, but he probably should've thought more about what he chose to wear when he allowed Todoroki into his home to work on their shared case.
He just hadn't exactly anticipated that Todoroki would notice his piercings. Or more importantly, not shut the fuck up about them.
hope you think of me high, hope you think of me highly
Shotgunning
Raising the Steaks
Inasa serves dishes, Bakugou serves food, Camie serves customers and Shouto serves looks.
threadache
Todoroki asks Bakugou to make his outfit for the Met Gala - nothing is what it seams.
love you sideways
Katsuki is the undisputed King of the arcade until some asshole comes in and starts beating all his high scores.
Synergy
Katsuki, a top pro gamer, encounters a worthy and very irritating rival—who may also be about to become his teammate.
Bloom
In recent years, it's been assumed that the appearance of soul bonds has disappeared. Katsuki, a cocky pro hero, and Shouto, the barista at Katsuki's favorite coffee shop, are about to discover that's not quite true.
Upon My Back
the soulmate au where every time your soulmate cries a flower tattoo appears on your skin
Vampirism wasn't in the roommate contract
“You’re a vampire?!” “And you’re a werewolf. You don’t see me complaining even though-“ Todoroki’s nose scrunched, and Bakugou could feel the vein in his head about to pop. “If you say I smell, I’m going to kick you out right now, dead blood.”
The best kept secrets aren't secrets at all
In which, Todoroki dates the edgy chemical engineering student who keeps stealing his friends parking spaces and is only just learning how to get along with others.
i want you (to want me)
invisibilia (or voyeur, of the unwilling kind)
Hagakure Tooru is invisible, and that is sometimes a lot more trouble than it's worth.
Just One Bite
This particular fuckup begins when he saves a cat from a demon in a sketchy alley.
How To Lose A Costume Contest But Still Win At Life
Bakugou Katsuki was determined to win a costume competition with the most realistic werewolf costume he could feasibly put together.
Without Hesitation
The first time Bakugou told Todoroki he was in love with him, he thought he’d die.
did i say a few? i overdid it I AM SORRY but i do hope you gonna like/read a few of these, I liked them. Also thank you so so so much for the ask! It made me so happy no one ever ask about my favorite things it was such a nice thing to do!
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spnfanficpond · 4 years
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September Angel Fish Awards
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(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)
WELCOME TO THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS
Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.
The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. Everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that this fun, thoughtful award will do just that. 
Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE SEPTEMBER’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!
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Nominated by @impalaimagining
From Far Away by @plaid-lover-bay25
This fic is all kinds of sweet. We all know Jensen is perfect and will probably never need glasses to see, no matter what time does to his eyes, but HOO the thought of that man looking over the brim of his glasses when he looks up from his book to meet your eyes? Even if it’s through a screen? Count me ALL the way in.
Silver Lining  by @luci-in-trenchcoats
All I want for the rest of my life is to be right in the moment that exists within this fic. It’s so warm and cozy, even if it does get a bit overheated at times with all that shared body heat. I will gladly accept a few uncomfortably sweaty moments if it means having the two of them just like this.
Pit Stop by @stusbunker
This made me feel so many things. Honestly, it’s thrilling to think about hiding in plain sight like this. 10/10 would recommend public sex with Dean, even if it does mean the occasional scrape from the tree bark.
Nominated by @emilyshurley
Beautiful Ghosts by  @herstarburststories 
Okay picture this, me holding my cup of tea in the morning, crying my eyes out as I’m reading this. Because that’s exactly what happened. 
( Ahh… the angst in this one. This fic left me in tears. Can’t wait to read more parts.) ((submitted twice))
Calm after the storm by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters
An adorable Dean fluff. There is something so comforting about how Dean interacts with the reader.
How not to kill someone by @myinconnelly1
A short but chaotic fic and is totally worth the read.
What a wonderful world by @wingedcatninja
The imagery is so great, you can almost feel everything  Sam must be feeling.
A little trip by @mariekoukie6661
Though I have never been inside an Ikea I had a constant smile on my face reading this. And now my face hurts…
Nominated by @waywardnerd67
Mr Pretty Face by @carryonmywaywardcaptain
I want to nominate @carryonmywaywardcaptain Mr. Pretty Face. This was the most adorable fic in the world. Jordan aka Cap is getting her groove back and the world should be graced by her talents! Plus she’s just an awesome person.
Nominated by @sorenmarie87
No More Living A Lie by @fictionalabyss
I know it’s an older fic but the idea of Cas and reader being in a fake relationship (I’d say more but it gives away the story) is fantastic.  
The Real Deal by @firefly-in-darkness
I’m no stranger to reading smut but holy crap!  After a hunt, all you wanna do is sleep but your friend sends you something… and you can’t help yourself.  I don’t know what else to say besides that you should check it out.  
Flesh - January Jingle by @myinconnelly1
I still need to listen to the song this fic is based off of but damn.  This one is great~~ Definitely leaves you wanting more.  
Nominated by @mariekoukie6661
Know How It Feels by @supernatural-jackles
I love that one because then the boys would understand what cramps feel like for real!
Some Kind of Sadness by @supernatural-jackles
I love this one because Jen just writes all the emotion so well!!
That’s Alpha or Sir To You, Baby Girl by @sorenmarie87
Dawn worked so hard on this one!! It’s so good!! I just love the fluff and the domestic!!
What’s The Little Guys Name by @sorenmarie87
The Weechester, the little banter between everyone! My heart!! I love this so much!
Nominated by @fictionalabyss
The Way You Lie by @cockslut-padalecki 
 this one hit the nail on the head. How you can know with ever fiber of your being that you need to leave, run, but you find yourself right back there.
Wanna Help A Girl Out? by @sorenmarie87
“Now, will you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?  I believe you owe me something…” that last line had me demanding, nay screaming, for more.
Bikini Inspector  by sorenmarie87 
because sometimes it’s just fun to mess with a guy.
Pineapple and Pizza  by @cloverhighfive 
STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THAT CLIFFHANGER lol. Seriously, though. I don’t dive too deep into ships usually, but I LOVED this little series.
All The Good Girls Go To Hell. (Prologue - chapter 9)  by @cockslut-padalecki 
This fucking series. Holy shit. The smut = perfection and the jealousy and need are on fucking point. Hell yes. this is a must read. a filthy, dirty, must read.
Nominated by @ellewritesfix05​
Don't Test Your Luck  by @downanddirtydean
All the smutty goodness that you could possibly need. The attention to detail, the way it flows seamlessly, the heart-stopping fluff. It’s a total hit and literally one of my favorite fics I’ve ever read! I adore everything Lydia writes and this is simply a must-read.
Homework Help  by @downanddirtydean
Lydia is an amazing writer and talented creator. College-me had a heart attack reading this! It’s so delicious and naughty! 100/10 would recommend!
Life For Rent Chapter 27 by @winchest09
The entirety of Life For Rent is absolutely amazing. Tabby is extremely talented and creative, but this particular chapter is just so wonderfully written, I think it deserves a spotlight. The whole time, you can see yourself in the moment. The way she captures and conveys emotion is nothing short of genius.
Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis
His Property by @negans-lucille-tblr
I’m nominating this whole dang series, plus both of the sequels!! Yeah, it’s smutty, but it also gets into the psychological issues, especially in the third series, Her Property. There is some possibly triggering content in the first series, which is discussed throughout the second and third, so if that could be a problem, then you might want to skip it. If you’re not easily triggered, though, this is a great story. And the smut is primo, too!!
The Last Visit by @laxe-from-outer-space 
Well, crap, guys. This one just hurts. Talk about taking my heart out back and beating the crap out of it. If you’ve got the tissues handy, definitely give this one a read!
Nominated by @manawhaat
About Bar Fights and Moobs by @cajunquandary
This is a perfect example of the ridiculousness that seems to follow the Winchesters everywhere. This is totally believable and gave me a good laugh.
Keep Me Company by @butiaintgonnaloveem
I’ll never get over how spot on this is for Ketch. It not only shows us a side we don’t get enough of on the show, but it also just shows a whole other side of him that feels so incredibly real and part of his layered persona. 
Calm by @winchesterswoonathon
This is a seriously lovely series about John and all those feelings he has the power to evoke in the people around him. It’s everything I love about him all mashed into a fucking delightful story. 
You Ever by @luci-in-trenchcoats
One of the things I love about Dean is his willingness to be there and help others when they’re having a hard time. He’s the ultimate comfort buddy and this fic is a prime example of his loyalty and sincerity. It’s a little sad but it’s sweet and comforting even in the angst. 
Nominated by @myinconnelly1
The Baby In The Impala by @a-fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun
 DADDY!DEAN!!!! to the max. This was so sweet, I can't even word properly!
One Room Left by @luci-in-trenchcoats
The amount of fluff present in the fic overwhelmed me
Imagine Getting A Sunburn by luci-in-trenchcoats​
Some cute fluff right here and nothing else needs said, read it
Dirty Little Secret by @hardcoresupernatural
 This had the trinity! Hot as fuck, adorable as all get out, and funny as shit. Read it!
Love Me Or Leave Me by @princessmisery666​
 This hurt so much and i wanted to cry. It had that feeling of being real.
Daddy’s A Superhero by @msmarvelouswinchester
Being a parent is hard and hearing a child of any age say they hate you is so hurtful. This was written so well.
Loving You by @emilyshurley​
I will never have enough good things to say about @emilyshurley but this fic was so hurtful and i'm still mad at her.
Finding Dean Masturbating In Your Room by @carryonmywaywardwriters​
 Very dirty and very hot!
Because Of Mistletoe by @idreamofplaid​
Happy half christmas drabble!
Halfway by @holylulusworld​
Dude i was crying so hard.  I just can't even talk about it.
The Frog Prince - or How To Kiss the Impala by holylulusworld
SO CUTE!!!! Absolutely adorable and i love protective!dean
Enough Both Of You by @fictionalabyss​
HOLY FUCKING SHIT this was so dirty and wrong and i love it!
Fatherless Son by fictionalabyss
I really like this series it was exactly what i think of for step!dad Dean!! chef's kiss 
You’re Home Early by fictionalabyss
This was just fun.  They both knew it was bad but they both loved it!
Risky by fictionalabyss
Alright look, if you ever post anything like this again, i want to be tagged.  I will make the fucking time for this every goddamn day!  So wrong, i love it
Finally by @there-must-be-a-lock​
super well written.  it felt so real to the characters and it was incredibly hot
A Huntress In The King of Hell’s Court by @crashdevlin​
I love when time travel is incorporated well in a fic, and this is exactly what i'm talking about!
Fan Mail by @waywardnerd67​
I can't not deal with my emotions on this fic.  It is so fluffy and i'm here for all of it 
One Night Changes Everything by @a-winchester-fairytale​
This ride was so hard i couldn't even comment on ever part.  I just had to rush through the whole thing so i could find out what would happen. 
Mated In The Darkness by @mummybear​
There are not enough words in the world to explain why i loved this fic so much!
Caught In The Act by mummybear
It's smut people.  Its dirty and fucking amazing smut!
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Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!
These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D
THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!
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glowinggator · 4 years
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Doom Eternal: April O’Neil
Pairing: April O’Neil
Content Warnings: Swearing? References to Doom Eternal? It’s honestly just a lot of fluff, I love April so much <3 
Word Count: 1105
Your feet slap against the pavement as you sprint towards April’s apartment, and you’ve never been so thankful for the impromptu late-night cardio that comes with befriending mutants. Out of all the benefits to receive from making friends with giant mutant turtles, stamina wasn’t one that you were expecting. Then again...you weren’t really expecting the situation to begin with. Nevertheless, you find yourself thankful for the late-night battles in the streets, tearing through the sidewalks of New York with a speed you would have never expected yourself to meet 5 years ago. You breathe steadily as you run, taking in the smell of freshly-ground coffee beans and pumpkin spice as you do so. It’s so distinctly Autumn, and quite frankly, a wonderful step away from the usual scent of New York City. Your feet take you along the bustling streets at a breakneck pace, blending in as just another body in a sea of people. Had you been anywhere else in the world, it may have been a concerning sight. But not here. You leap up her apartment stairs two at a time, weighted backpack slapping against your lower back with a vengeance. Will you be sore tomorrow? Maybe. Do you care? Absolutely not. You take a moment to breathe as you reach her door, composing yourself and regulating your breathing before knocking. Best not to look like an idiot in front of her mom, assuming she answers the door. Once you catch your breath, you raise your fist to the door, knocking gently. 
The door whips open quickly and before you know it, you’re brought into a crushing hug. You laugh, returning the hug quickly. “Good to see you too,” you giggle. 
She pulls away from the embrace, instead choosing to hold your hands to drag you inside. “Happy Halloween month, Sunshine” she chirps, “Did you bring it? Please tell me you brought it, if you forgot it at home we’re marching right back to your place and getting it, deadass.” 
You laugh, taking one hand away from her to slip your backpack off: “Double, triple, quadruple checked to make sure I had it.” You smile even brighter as she pumps a single fist, hissing out a quiet “yes!” She pulls you quickly to her room, flopping on the bed as soon as you both enter. You kick the door shut with your foot before dashing over to her PS4 to slide in your copy of Doom Eternal. You turn to look back at her momentary, only to see her smiling straight back at you. Your heart melts as your girlfriend quietly chants “rip and tear” from her spot on the bed. Her excitement is so contagious, that you can’t help but join in with her. 
 Halloween is truly the best time of year. 
You unhook a controller from the charging stand, tossing it to her before finding your own spot on the bed. You rest your head against her headboard, opening up your arms as a mock-offering. She quickly adjusts her position, finding a spot in your arms as the game loads. Thank god you both installed it last week. You couldn’t take the disappointment, or stand seeing hers. She drops the controller in her lap momentarily, wrapping an arm around your neck to pull you into a quick kiss. You smile, leaning into it happily. Her hands and lips are warm like sunshine in midmorning: a perfect contrast to the chilly, Autumn air outside. Heaven is a place on Earth with her, you muse to yourself. Cheesy, yes, but how else could you describe it? You pull away slowly as the haunting whine of the loading screen claws its way out of the speakers. “Happy?” you ask. 
She hums affirmatively, leaning her head on your chest. “How mad do you think Donnie would be if he knew we were playing Doom without him?” she chuckles. She quickly selects a new campaign slot, setting on the medium-difficulty “Hurt Me Plenty” mode. The TV casts a dark blue glow upon her room as it begins loading all of the necessary assets for the game. Her thumbs nervously caress and tap the buttons of the controller, eager to play. 
“I’m willing to bet, like, 50 cents that he found the cracked copy the day it released and played it without us.” 
“Oh god, yeah,” she laughs, “I completely forgot about that whole DRM situation. Imagine letting that get out, as a multimillion-dollar company with like, one of the most hyped games ever... Couldn’t be me, honestly.” 
King Novic’s voice slithers its way out of the speakers, drawing your attention to the TV. 
"Against all the evil that hell can conjure, all the wickedness that mankind can produce. We’ll send unto them... only you. Rip and Tear until it is done.”
“Holy fucking shit,” she whispers, leaning forward in her excitement. She grips the controller even tighter as the first cutscene loads, never moving her eyes away from the screen. You smile at her excitement, watching her amber eyes dart around the screen. Her eyes trace the outline of the sigil that’s been burned into the Earth, breathing a quiet sigh of awe: “Babe, “ she breathes, “look at the graphics, this is crazy! This probably looks better than like, actual satellite photos of Earth.” 
You chuckle, “You’re adorable, April.” 
She laughs, “Babe, I don’t think that’s the thing to say when I’m playing a game about murdering demons.” The screams of Earth’s last survivors ring out through her speakers, and you silently pray to the universe that her mom isn’t home right now. The introductory riff to Rip and Tear crescendos as The Slayer moves around the ship. April watches with bated breath, occasionally breathing out little sighs of amazement. You can practically see the stars twinkling in her eyes as she watches the cutscene, and her excitement warms your heart. The full force of Rip and Tear hits as The Slayer cocks his shotgun, and April’s eyes shine with unbridled enthusiasm. At this point she leans back into you, gripping the controller tightly. She swings her feet back and forth slightly, too excited to sit still. “Oh my god, this is so fucking badass,” she chimes, “I think that was the best intro scene I’ve ever seen for a game.” 
“What about Skyrim?” You jest. 
“I said best, not most memorable slash memeable,” she returns, waving one hand for emphasis, “Besides, Skyrim didn’t have the awesome metal intro, now did it?” 
 “Alright, fair enough,” you giggle, “I can’t wait to watch you Glory Kill some Revenants.” 
“You better not have played this without me!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(A/N: Look, do I have like 50 requests? Yes. Do I have like 10 different WIPS that I need to finish? Yes. Did I write this as a spur of the moment thing after listening to Doom Crossing: Eternal Horizons too many times and subsequently getting back into the Doom fandom? Yes <3 In this house we play video games and fall head over heels in love with Rise! April.) (For those of you who don't share my undying love for April...I've got a whole bunch of stuff from the turtles to post soon, dw <3 )
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fleetwoodmactshirt · 4 years
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roadtrip headcanons (requested)
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i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.
frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.
max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.
based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery. 
marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.
roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.
whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in. 
ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.
maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.
din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.
SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE
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Angel with a shotgun part 2
Part 1 | Final
Wordcount: 7325
    “Oi, Bakugo! Wake up!” Bakugo groaned, rolling over and covering his head with a pillow.
He was regretting giving Kirishima a key to his apartment. “Fuck off, Shitty Hair.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Kirishima sighed, dropping bags on the floor. “Get him!” Bakugo jolted as Kirishima body slammed him, followed by another small thud, adding more weight to the pile. 
The wind was knocked out of his lungs; Bakugo had not been expecting 300 pounds of muscle to be dropped on him. “Motherfucker, get off me.” Bakugo’s voice came out in grunts as he tried to throw Kirishima off his back.
“Nah bro, this is what you get for not answering my calls.” Kirishima relaxed his large body on top of Bakugo. There was a small jostle on the bed.
A face suddenly appeared in front of Bakugo’s, laying with him under his pillow. “Good morning, Uncle Suki!” Bakugo winced at the loudness of the Fujio’s voice.
“Why are you and shit stain here?” Bakugo let out a sigh of relief as Kirishima sat up, no longer squeezing the air out of his lungs.
Bakugo sat up to look at Kirishima as Fujio got up to sit in Bakugo’s lap and play with his bed head. “I’m going on a mission for a few days to help out another agency with a villain that has been on the run from us. Remember? You texted me last night that Fujio could stay with you 'til my wife gets back from her shift at the station.”
“I don’t remember saying that shit.” Kirishima raised an eyebrow at Bakugo as he grumbled.
Looking over at the nightstand, Kirishima picked up Bakugo’s phone. “Fine, I’ll show you proof. It’s in your phone.” Kirishima froze when he saw an unread message. “Who’s Smiley Angel?”
Bakugo’s eyes went wide as he reached over to snatch his phone out of Kirishima’s hand. “No one! Now give me my phone!” His attempt fell flat as Kirishima dodged him and held the phone up.
“Doesn’t seem like no one.” Kirishima smirked as he stepped away from the bed and unlocked Bakugo’s phone.
“Oi, don’t-”
“Angel is what Uncle Suki calls Miss ___.” Bakugo glared at the child sitting on his leg, who had an innocent smile on his face.
The look of horror on Bakugo’s face as Kirishima started looking through the texts between you and Bakugo was priceless. Bakugo quickly tried to scramble over to Kirishima but fell to the floor from being tangled in his sheets. Fujio leaned over the bed to ask if he was okay. “Oh, so Bakugo is chatting up a lady now is he? Wait…are you guys flirting? Bakugo Katsuki, flirting? Ah, and you guys had coffee together yesterday and you paid? Bakubro, I’m so proud of you.”
“Shut up! Don’t read my texts, fuck face!” Bakugo stood up and stormed over to the redhead. He tried to grab his phone again but Kirishima pivoted out of the way and ran across the room. Bakugo was panting, his face completely red.
“Bro, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about—”
Bakugo ran full force at Kirishima. “I ain’t embarrassed; now give me my phone Shark Week!”
“She asked when you guys were going to have another play date with Fujio…are you using my son to pick up girls now?” Kirishima easily dodged him and Bakugo slammed into the wall. Kirishima then hopped onto the bed, standing as he read the last few texts “Brooooo, you asked her if she was free for dinner sometime next week. Dude! And she said yes! Bro, when were you going to tell me?!”
“Kirishiiiimmmmmaaaa!” Bakugo tackled him from behind and they fell to the floor with a loud thud. The phone slid against the hardwood, away from the two men. Bakugo and Kirishima wrestled each other to be the first one to grab the phone. Bakugo was a few centimeters away from it when someone else picked up the phone. “Fujio, give me the phone!”
“No, give Daddy the phone Fujio!” Kirishima and Bakugo had their hands outstretched to the small child, who looked back and forth between the two men, trying to decide what he wanted to do.
He then looked at the phone and smiled. “I want to talk to Miss ___!” Fujio ran out of the room, holding the phone to his ear.
“Shit! Get back here you, little brat!” Bakugo scrambled to his feet as Kirishima just let out a big laugh, tears rolling down his cheeks. In the living room, Bakugo looked for the little bugger, who was nowhere in sight. He grumbled to himself as he wondered where the kid could have gone. He looked in the bathroom. Nothing. Under the dining table. Nope. Bakugo crossed his arms, fuming with rage. Where the hell did the kid go? His ears perked up when he heard something coming from the kitchen.
“I want to play with you, will you come?”
Bakugo spun around and ran over to the kitchen sink. He opened the cabinet under the sink and found Fujio with the phone pressed to his ear. “Hah! Found you, you little shit!” Bakugo grabbed the child and snatched the phone from his hand as he held him under his arm.
“Mommy said you can’t call me that!”
“Well Mommy ain’t here!” Bakugo shouted back at the child, who crossed his arms in a pout.
“Um…Hello? Bakugo?”    Your voice came nervously out of the phone.
Bakugo glared at Fujio as he placed him on the floor. “You called her!?” He hissed. Fujio just kept his arms crossed as he stuck his tongue out at Bakugo. He groaned as he placed the phone to his ear. “What did the little shit say?”
“Well good morning, Bakugo, it seems like you are having a fun morning.”    He could feel his bad mood beginning to melt away as he listened to you giggle. “Fujio invited me to come out and play at the park today. I won’t be available 'til after 12:30, but I’m free the rest of the day. I don’t have to work tonight.”  
“What she say?” Fujio tugged at Bakugo’s sweatpants.
Kirishima picked up Fujio, now fully recovered from his laughing fit. “Yeah, what she saying, lover boy?” The redhead wiggled his eyebrows.
Bakugo pushed Kirishima’s face away with an open palm as he made his way back into the living room, sitting on the couch. “Really? Didn’t even ask me if I had any plans.”
“What, you have plans? Don’t you want to come see me? We had a lot of fun the last time all three of us played.”    You teased him over the phone; he could picture you smiling, a small glow on your skin.
“I’d rather not be blinded by your brightness, Angel.” He smirked to himself. “Do you really want to hang out with that brat?”
“Well, I like Fujio, and you’ll be there too.”    Bakugo’s smile widened as his heart did a small flip like it usually does when you say shit like that. Do you even realize what you are saying?
Bakugo let out a sigh. “Okay, okay, but I swear to God, if you start singing Disney songs again, I will throw up.”
“What? That’s how I express my joy. I can’t help but sing! Don’t shit on my parade, asshole.”  
“Oooh, keep talking like that. I love it when you talk dirty to me.” You became a giggling mess, unable to keep talking. “I’ll see you later at the park by my house.”
“Heheh, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can!”    You hang up and Bakugo put his phone in his pocket, feeling relaxed and content after hearing your voice. He’s only known you for a month, but he feels like it has been forever. He sighed happily as he leaned back on his couch with his eyes closed.
He jumped when he heard someone clear their throat. “Wow, I’ve never seen you like that before, bro. I’m amazed, and slightly concerned?”
“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE!?!? JUST LEAVE ALREADY!”
~
You swayed your head to the beat of the song in your head. The most recent one was “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”. You can’t help it; when you are this happy, the songs just come out. You continued to hum as you made your way into the park; kids were running around already. Right as you opened your mouth, someone cut you off. “Seriously, don’t sing.” You jumped around to see Bakugo standing beside you with his hands in his pockets.
“Am I that bad of a singer?” You chuckled at the look of disgust on his face.
“No, you just do it all the damn time. It’s annoying. Oi! Brat! She’s here!” Bakugo shouted and you saw a familiar, black-haired child poke his head out from the top of the slide.
The child slid down and ran straight into you; you were prepared for it this time. “Miss ___! Hi!”
You couldn’t help bursting into laughter. “Well hello Fujio!”
More kids came running over, surrounding you and Bakugo. “Everyone is here now! We can play Heroes!” All the kids cheered. “We are the heroes, Uncle Suki is the Evil Dragon King, and Miss ___ is the princess we have to rescue!”
Before you could even process what was happening, you were lifted into the air and thrown over Bakugo’s shoulder. “Bwahahahahah! You stupid heroes think you can win against me! I’m the king!” Bakugo laughed evilly as he carried you, his voice totally in character.
“Give us the princess villain!” A child shouted.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands! Bwahahahahah!” Bakugo, without warning, took off running.
“Woah!” You clutched onto Bakugo’s sweater. Looking up, you could see a small mob of children running after Bakugo, wielding toy weapons and shouting to give back the princess. You couldn’t contain yourself and let out uncontrollable laughter.
Bakugo would slow down enough to let the children catch up, but just as they thought that they had him cornered, he would leap out of their reach. He made his way with you to the top of the playground equipment. “He took her to his castle!”
Bakugo slowly lowered you down, your body sliding down his 'til your feet were firmly on the ground. He kept his arm around your waist and your body pressed close to his. He leaned over and whispered in your ear. “You’re glowing again; what’s making you so happy, I wonder?” His tone was teasing and it sent a shiver down your back you are sure he felt.  
“The princess is now my prisoner forever! I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me!” He gave you a wink before releasing you. He is really into character, playing his part as the villain perfectly. “Stay here.” Bakugo turned back around to face off the heroes as they tried to charge the ‘castle’.
You sat down and leaned back on the plastic wall, heart pounding. What was that? Oh God, he’s so…muscular…you try not to squeal into your hands.You could still feel the heat of his touch on your body; everything tingled and you were desperately trying to keep your quirk under wraps. “Psst, princess.” Your head swung to the side; you saw Fujio whispering to you from the slide. “Come with me. The heroes are here!”
You giggle quietly. Ah, the kids were smart, sending all the older ones with quirks to distract the ‘villain’, while the small one snuck in to steal the princess. You crawl over to Fujio to slide down the slide with him. “Oh, my hero~.” But before you could get your feet on the slide, a strong hand grabbed your shoulder.
“And where do you think you’re going, Angel Princess?” You and Fujio looked up to the Evil Dragon King, a mischievous grin on his face. He pulled you back and picked up Fujio by his shirt. “You think you could fool me? I am the King!!”
“He’s got Unbreakable Fuji! Get him!” All the kids shouted and jumped onto Bakugo at once.
He took a step back. “Oi, that’s dangerous, you brats. Hey!” The kids latched onto him and his balance faltered.
“Ah, Bakugo!” You reached out to help, but it was too late. Bakugo, with the kids, fell back and went sliding down the slide head first. You flinched as he hit the sand. The kids seemed fine, laughing and chanting that they’d defeated the villain. They all stepped off of him, celebrating, as you ran off the equipment to Bakugo’s side. You got on your knees and leaned over him. “Are you okay!?”
“Of course I fucking ain’t, those damn kids just killed me.” He squinted at you.
You chuckled at him. “If you are cursing, then I assume you’re not dead and are just fine.”
You jumped a little when his hand caressed your cheek and he sat up, looking into your eyes, just inches away. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. “Then explain why there is an angel in front of me if I’m not in heaven.” He smirked at you as you momentarily forgot how to breathe.
You quickly pushed him away and leaned back on your knees. “Oh my God, Bakugo! Stop that!”
He let out a loud laugh. “Yo princess, you’re glowing again.”
“Shut up.”
~
The three of you stayed in the park 'til the sun began to set. Fujio had invited you to come with them back to Bakugo’s house to watch a movie and eat pizza. It was fun; you and Fujio would sing along with the songs as Bakugo would fake puking. By the end of the movie, Fujio was out cold on the couch. “Awe, he’s so cute.” You watch as he snuggled his plush toy.
Bakugo put his arms in the air, stretching. He had taken off his sweater and wore a black tank top. His arms were now bare, showing the many scars that scattered around his forearms. “Just wait until he wakes up in the morning. You would think he’d eaten a shit ton of sugar in his sleep.” He rested one arm on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch behind you.
You giggle quietly, brushing a few strands of Fujio’s hair from his face. “Lucky for him he’ll be with his Uncle Suki who will play with him.”
He hummed beside you, leaning his head against an open palm on the arm resting on the back of the couch. “I’d rather play with him with you here too. You can read to him again and he’ll pass the fuck out.”
“Ah, you just want to use my storytelling skills to your advantage, I see.” You looked back at Bakugo, only to find him closer to you than he was before.
His ruby eyes bore into yours, his stare intense. “Something like that.” He mumbled, his hand reaching out and he grabbing a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it. “I should put him to bed…”
“Oh-oh, I-I’ll put away our plates.” You stood up quickly and grabbed the plates with discarded pizza crusts. Practically running, you made it into the kitchen and were finally be able to breathe normally again. Washing the dishes helped calm your nerves. You were feeling like yourself again and started to hum one of the songs from the movie as you were drying your hands.
“Please, stop it. I just had to sit through an hour of that shit, no more.” Bakugo came into the kitchen with a frown on his face.
You smirked at him before turning back around to fold the towel you’d just used. “I guess I should go home then; I can sing as much as I want there. Plus, it’s getting late.”
Turning around, you took a step to leave but a hand slammed in front of you, blocking your way. “Don’t…” You turn to face him completely, your back pressed against the cabinets and counter.
Swallowing, your voice came out as a whisper. “Is the king holding me captive again?”
His other arm came up on the other side of you, closing you in as he stepped closer. “If that’s what it takes for you to stay…” You stared at him as he reached up, his thumb rubbing against your lower lip. You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch and hoping for more. You felt his breath on you before his lips; he kissed you slowly, almost hesitantly, 'til you leaned in, pressing your lips harder against his.
You pulled away slightly, allowing just enough room to speak but not for your lips to stop touching his. “I guess the evil king captured the princess again…” Your hands slid up his chest 'til your arms were wrapped around his neck, pressing him against your body.
“Fuuuck…” He let out a pant before wrapping his arms around you tightly. One around your waist, the other around your back, his hand in your hair and pressing your mouth against his again. He kissed you without anymore hesitation, only hunger.
~
Bakugo was watching an action movie as he mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair. Both of you were laying on his couch and you were sound asleep on his chest. Apparently you’d had a busy week as you hadn’t even made it ten minutes into the movie. He didn’t mind though; just having you here instantly relaxed him. As soon as you were gone, he would feel anxious and irritated. It was like he needed you to stay in a good mood. It was so odd.
There isn’t a thing he could name that he didn’t like about you… okay, he could live without the constant singing of children’s songs. But other than that, you were perfect. He’s never taken to anyone like this or this fast. Bakugo had spoken to Kirishima about it (this had been an alcohol-induced conversation) and he said it sounded like Bakugo had experienced love at first sight. Guess that would explain why everything had been so smooth between the two of you.
He held you close to him, burying his face in your hair as he took in your scent. You smiled in your sleep, glowing slightly as you snuggled deeper into his body. He felt a rush of happiness go through him. “I hope this feeling never goes away…” He mumbled into your hair. Since being with you, the last few weeks had gone by fast.. Bakugo isn’t even upset that he still has four more weeks of physical therapy before he can go back to hero work, but doing the shitty office grunt work was getting on his nerves. You keep reminding him that it gave you guys plenty of time to bond before he becomes busy again. Lazing around the house isn't so bad, if it means he can hold you.
“Bakugo… what are you doing?” Your eyes opened to see him staring at you.
“Sorry, I was just so awe-struck. I thought I saw an angel.” You buried your face into his chest as you laughed at his corny joke.
You raised yourself to give him a quick peck on the lips. “You are so weird Bakugo.”
“Katsuki.”
Bakugo squinted his eyes as your glow grew brighter. “You are so weird…Katsuki.”
He grinned at you and pulled your face back to his. “That peck was bullshit, I need more.”
~
“Katsuki… you need to hurry up, I’m going to be late.” You laughed tugging the stubborn ash-blonde to try and make him walk faster. Someone had to call in sick and they’d called you in to help out, which means the time you guys had together was cut short.
Now Bakugo was pouting and trying to do anything to make the walk last longer. “Can’t they just call someone else… you are working tonight too.” He groaned.
“Katsuuukkkkiiiiiiiii!” You tried to think of something to get him to move. “If you don’t pick it up, I’ll start singing ‘It’s a Small World’.”
Katsuki tightened his hold on your hand and instantly started speed walking, now pulling you. “Fuck that.” You laughed at the look of disgust on his face. He really hated that song, even more so now since it had been stuck in your head for a week. You were able to get to work earlier than expected.
The daycare was chaotic. Kids were screaming and running around. The caregivers looked so relieved the moment they saw you. “Oh thank God, ___, please work your magic on them. We had to put different age groups together so that way one person could look after the infants and with just two of us dealing with all of them, it’s been a nightmare.”
“Yes yes, I’ll calm everyone down and then go to the infant room to relieve the person there.” You took off your jacket and placed on your apron, waving Bakugo goodbye. “I’ll call you later.” Bakugo smiled at you before you took a step inside. And oh man, it was a disaster.
Activating your quirk, your glowing light gave you a relaxing aura that you sent throughout the room. You clap your hands to get everyone’s attention. The screaming and chaos from the little ones almost instantly stopped. Your quirk always made it easier when talking to children and trying to convince them to do tasks.  
“Alright everyone, can you all cleanup for me? We’ll have snack time after everything has been put away.” You smile as the children began to clean; well the older ones did. You went in and started to help the little ones clean, encouraging them as they needed it.
~
The screaming instantly stopped the moment you went into the room. Bakugo was impressed. “Man, I would kill to have her quirk. It’s so useful, making people like you.”
What did that woman say? “Literally just walk into a room and everyone loves you.”
“What are you talking about?” Bakugo spoke up; he was honestly lost.
The women jumped at his voice. They looked at each other before one of them stepped over and began to whisper. “You don’t know? Her quirk manipulates emotions, like the chemicals in your brain. So, like, it feels like you are making the choice when really she can manipulate you with your emotions.” They looked back to make sure you weren’t coming as your voice trailed out into the hall.
“You could be stressing out and when she walks in the room, instant relaxation. But, when she leaves, all the anxiety comes back. She, like, gives off some kind of feel good hormone that makes everyone trust her. That’s how she gets the kids to calm down like that. We’ve even had some parents confess to her after being exposed to her quirk.” The other woman whispered. What the fuck?
The women crossed their arms and nodded at each other. “How do you even know if your relationship is even real when your partner has a quirk like that? The possibility of my emotions not really being mine but something induced by the object of my affection...that freaks me out. Who knows what she may have done? Especially since she has a registration that allows her to use her quirk for her job.” Bakugo’s eyes went wide at what he was hearing. You? Manipulate people? No way.
Bakugo glared at the gossiping women. “Shut your mouths before you say something you’ll regret.” He turned away and left in a hurry. It freaked him out at how similar the things they’d been saying were to how he’s been feeling. All day at work, his leg shook as the thoughts spun in his head. If you’d used your quirk on him, that would explain why he’d opened up to you so fast, why he’d trusted you, and why he’d even fallen for you. That’s when he did something he shouldn’t have: he looked up your quirk registration license.
Quirk   : Radiant  
Abilities   : Able to influence the brain's production of different variations of a neurochemical, endorphins. User glows when producing a high amount of the chemical or when using the quirk, and people can be influenced by touch or even being within a five foot radius. Effects vary based on strand of endorphin, method of exposure, and the user’s emotional state.  
“Okay, so she can change your brain on a chemical level…” Bakugo mumbled to himself. That’s kind of cool. Hold on, within five feet of her? You’d said only by touch when he’d asked. And you glow all the time around him, but that could mean you are just a happy person…or were you using your quirk on him to make him feel happy around you and cause him to like you? Like some crazy girl trying to lock down on a hero for money and status? That nerd and Half-and-Half had told him about people trying to seduce them. No one has been bold enough to try with Bakugo before…
And everything had gone so smoothly. There was no bump in the road, no real build; it all just kind of happened. Bakugo hasn’t had many relationships, but he has watched others stumble and struggle with theirs in the beginning, even if the feelings were mutual. Things had just been way too comfy… The more he thought about it, the more nervous Bakugo got.
“Hey, Fish Breath.” Bakugo turned to the cat-like sidekick sitting next to him. The sidekick faced him with an annoyed look. “If someone had a quirk that could manipulate your emotions without you noticing, would you still date them?”
“Hmm,” their eyes narrowed as they scooted closer to him and read what was on Bakugo’s screen. “If it’s something like that, probably not. Aren’t endorphins the ones that make you happy and like stuff? Pretty sure it makes you fall in love too, I think. I’d be afraid that my feelings weren’t really mine, to be honest. Why, is someone you know dating this person?”
“Something like that, but it’s really none of your fucking business.” Bakugo huffed, exiting the database.
The sidekick rolled their eyes before getting back to work. “Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Bakugo tried to continue his paperwork, but he couldn’t seem to focus.
~
You’ve been trying to call Katsuki, but he wasn’t answering. Usually he’d come to walk you home, but the last kid had just left and there was no hero in sight. Maybe he had gotten caught up at work…you shrug and walk home on your own. Knowing him, he’ll call you later to make sure you got home.
But he didn’t.
For the next few days, Katsuki was completely silent. You asked Fujio if he’d seen his uncle or if he was back to doing hero work, but Fujio shook his head and said that he’d had a sleepover with Katsuki the night before. In fact, he was the one that had brought him to daycare this morning.
What the hell?
Fujio’s father picked him up that night and you cornered the six foot man. “What’s going on with Katsuki?”
Kirishima looked panicked for a moment before flashing you a well-trained smile; you narrowed your eyes. “W-Well, he seemed the same to me. You know, the same old grumpy Bakubro. Why, is something going on?” He was avoiding your eyes…
Oh, he knows what’s going on; he’s such a bad liar. You crossed your arms and glared; thankfully Fujio was asleep in his father’s arms, so he wouldn’t witness this. “Well, I thought we were something, but now I’m starting to feel like we were nothing. He’s been avoiding me. It’s been a week and he hasn’t been answering my calls or texts.”
You watched as the tall hero began to sweat, shifting his feet, and glancing at the door. Uh huh, you could see right through him. He slowly side-stepped you, shuffling to the exit. “I, um,…need to get home. My wife is making dinner and it’s been so long since we’ve been able to eat together. You know, civil servants and all that.” He tried to act nonchalant, but he practically ran out the door with his tail between his legs.
What the hell?!
~
Bakugo groaned on the couch, an arm over his eyes as his head spun from all the beers he’d had. “I told you not to drink so much.” He was too drunk to glare at the woman cleaning in the kitchen.
“Shhud uppa.”
“I can talk back at you all I want, you are the one who’s been getting drunk and crashing on my couch for the last few days. Go home.” So what? He needed to get away, somewhere you couldn’t find him so that he could assess himself. He was going to respond when the front door opened and a tired Kirishima called out.
“Hello, Mrs. Kirishima.” Bakugo groaned as he listened to Kirishima and his wife get all flirty and kiss each other, burying his head in a pillow. “He’s still here?”
“And drunk. I’ll put Fujio to bed and then I’ll meet you in our bed, Mr. Kirishima.” Ugh, the flirting was getting worse and sobering him up. Bakugo gagged when he heard more kissing and a smack, followed by a giggle. Gross…
Bakugo could sense Kirishima coming over to him. “Dude, you need to go home already.” Lifting the pillow, he peered at the red-head, who was holding a glass out to him.
“Why? So you can bang your wife? The fuck, you two been married for years but are still in the fucking honeymoon stage.” Bakugo sat up and took the glass of water from him and chugged it down. “You’re like horny kids; keep your hands to yourselves for five fucking minutes, will ya?”
Kirishima crossed his arms and glared down at his friend. “Yeah, I would love to fuck my wife, whom I love, but I got to deal with your ass. Dude, you can’t just ghost this girl. Not manly. Plus, you have an easier time avoiding her;, I can’t since she works at my kid’s daycare and she’s scary, dude.”
The ash-blonde pouted. “I just need to think…” Kirishima sighed and reached over to promptly smack Bakugo upside the head. “What the fuck?!”
“You can’t stay here moping about something that you don’t know anything about. Be a man and go talk to her; ask her up front if you’re really worried about this. Though, I honestly don’t think she would use her quirk on you.” Kirishima pushed Bakugo back to lie on the couch, tucking the grown man in with a blanket as he lectured him. “Don’t argue with me. I went through shit like this too; you were there for me and kicked my ass into gear. Now it’s my turn. You are going to stay here tonight, then go home and shower, and then call her. Or, I got a better idea.”
Bakugo couldn’t find any room to argue back; Kirishima really had that dad voice down. “There. I texted her that you’re going over to her house tomorrow to talk this out. I have the day off, so I can make sure you go.” He tossed Bakugo’s cell onto his chest and walked out of the room, turning off the lights and ending the conversation.
“Oi, when the fuck you get my phone?” The angry blonde stared at his phone to see your response. You better have a good explanation.    He groaned, throwing the phone, not caring what happened to it, and hid his face in his pillow.
Bakugo didn’t know what to do with himself. He was completely lost on how he was supposed to feel or if he is feeling were even his own feelings.
~
You were anxious all morning; you started to pace the house and pick up everything. The apartment was organized and reorganized. Laundry in the wash or put away. Pillows fluffed, three times. Books alphabetized, by title and then by author. Sheets changed and bed made. You were in the middle of washing dishes that really didn’t need washing again when you heard keys and the front door opening.
Katsuki entered your apartment; he looked exhausted with bags under his eyes. Walking over, he didn’t greet you like he normally did; instead he just said, “Hey.”
You swallowed, turning back to the dishes as he sat down at the table. “Hi?”
“Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush here. Things have been going really well. Like, really well. And that doesn’t usually happen with me. Nothing ever is this smooth sailing. I thought about it and it kept bugging me. I looked up your files and I know about your quirk and how it can alter people’s emotions. Even if it was by accident, I don’t appreciate getting my emotions fucked with.” He kept talking about something but the room had gone silent. You blinked at him; everything he was saying was falling on deaf ears.
Did he think…you’d used your quirk on him to make him…fall for you? Really? And he’d looked at your quirk files instead of asking you? That’s it? He avoided you because he thought you were doing something to him that your quirk can’t even do? “I think I just need time away from you, just to make sure it isn’t—”
“Get out.” Your hands gripped the plate tightly; you can see your skin darkening but you don’t care.  
“What?”
“I said, get out!” You threw whatever was in your hand blindly; if it shattered near him on the wall, it went unnoticed by you. You can feel yourself getting swept up by your emotions but you didn’t care. You just felt so hurt. “You…you idiot! Jerk! I can’t believe you—you, ugh! You are just so stupid!”
Something else shattered and Katsu—Bakugo was suddenly closer to you. “What the fuck?!”
You were hyperventilating, in full panic mode as you realized how he saw you. He was just like everyone else who had made baseless assumptions. It didn’t hurt anymore to hear those rumors; you weren’t stupid and could hear people whispering about you. But Bakugo had never even mentioned…he seemed to understand…but he didn’t. “Yes my quirk affects people…chemically, only one, but it’s not even…I was glowing because you were making me happy; the light has a minor to zero effect on people. I don’t make others feel…love is not…there is more than one chemical that we produce when we feel love. Endorphins are like happy feelings, like when you eat your favorite candy!”
Bakugo was standing there silently as you threw pillows at him. You couldn’t read his expression; everything was becoming blurry from the tears running down your face. “That’s what my quirk is; it makes you feel like you are eating candy, but only if you are already happy! All I do is make people feel happier than they already are and relax! That’s why it works so well on kids; that candy feeling means the world to them, but adults need a lot more because they have a whole lot going on and I can’t really help them…”
“___, calm down…” He was just like everyone else growing up.  
___ why did you do make him like you when you knew I liked him? ___ only gets good grades because of her quirk. Teachers only love her because she makes them. He’s only with her because of her quirk; how sad it must be to have to use you quirk to make someone love you.  
You fell to the floor as a sob wracked through your body, your stupid quirk making you feel how upset you were times ten. You weren’t sure if he was stepping closer to hug you or to calm down a wild animal; probably both. “I can’t…I just…any moron can look up what endorphins do to you, but you just assumed…and you think I’d be okay with waiting for you and go on like nothing happened. You thought I was brainwashing you to like me!! Fuck you!” A hand touched your shoulder but you flinched back, slapping his hand away from you. “Get out! Leave! I’m done.”
And just like that, he was gone. He hadn’t even been here five minutes and you’d already lost the person you loved most.
~
“Endorphins and You. Also known as the happy hormone, endorphins are chemicals that help relieve pain or stress and boost your happiness. There are many ways that your body can release endorphins. In response to pain or stress, exercising, listening to music, eating food or… um, sex…are some examples.” Kirishima read out loud on some free medical website on a page about endorphins as the rest of the Bakusquad boys sat with him.
Kaminari snickered as he threw a few pretzel bites into his mouth. “Oh yeah, Bakugo needs that in his life. Dude has to learn how to chill.”
“Shuddupp.” Bakugo grumbled, face down on the table and a hand gripping tightly to his empty beer mug.
Sero poured more beer into Bakugo’s cup and everyone watched as Bakugo instantly started chugging half of it. “So this a ‘I got dumped’ party for Bakugo, and not Kaminari?”
“Hey!” Kaminari slammed a hand on the table, offended. “I get why Bakugo gets kicked to the curb, but how did you two get girls while I’m over here still painfully single?” Kirishima and Sero looked at each other and shrugged as Kaminari threw his head back in frustration.
Bakugo slammed his mug down, gaining everyone’s attention as he swayed slightly. “Everything was going so well; too well. But it only took me two months to fuck it all up. I let a couple of extras’ words get to me and now I lost her.”
“Is he already drunk?” Sero leaned over to whisper in Kirishima’s ear.
Kirishima shook his head, bringing his own drink up to his lips. “Hmm, not quite. He’s emotional enough that tipsy him will spill his guts.”
After signaling for another pitcher of beer, Kaminari opened his mouth, “Was she really that great if she was throwing plates at you?” And instantly regretted it.
Bakugo glared at the other blonde and pulled him by his collar to yell in his face. “She’s a fucking angel!” Kaminari grimaced from the intense smell of alcohol on his breath.
“Who’s just as scary and trigger happy as he is.” Kirishima thought about how you’d cornered him a few times at the daycare when Bakugo had been avoiding you. Now you refused to even look Kirishima in the eye, only smiling at his son when he was looking and turning cold when it was just Kirishima.
“Fuck you, and fuck you for making me pick up your son that night! I wouldn’t be feeling any of this bullshit if it wasn’t for you.” Despite being furious and making accusations, Bakugo leaned against his friend for support to keep his body steady.
Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him before shaking him off and continuing to finish his beer. Honestly, he couldn’t wait to go home. “Hey, you’re the one who used playdates with Fujio to see her. You’re the manipulative one.”
The table went silent for a moment as Bakugo thought about it for a sec. It’s true; for the longest time, he would use Fujio as an excuse to go see you. “Fuuuck, you’re right…”
“Oooh, cute little kid to lure in the babes. Hey Kirishima could I—”
“No, you cannot use my son to pick up girls.”
“Oh, come on!”
Food and drinks were placed on the table; the men went silent as they ate the bar food. For once, Bakugo wasn’t complaining about the amount of grease. Sero held up a wing, pulling the meat apart. “So did you apologize?”
“I tried, but she won’t answer her phone. She’s blocked me.” Bakugo threw his phone on the table to show a long string of text messages that he had sent to you. He’d sent message after message about how he was sorry for jumping to conclusions and wanted to talk it out. You didn’t respond once and, after two days, you’d blocked him.
“I say move on dude and take this as a lesson on what not to do.” As Kaminari took a sip from his drink, Kirishima reached up and tipped the drink up more so it would spill over the moron’s shirt. “Or not, fuck me, got it.” Kaminari grumbled about going to the restroom to clean up.
Sero looked through Bakugo’s phone, seeing how desperate his friend actually was. Originally he thought this was going to be a gathering to celebrate Bakugo coming back to hero work in a couple of days. But Bakugo didn’t even mention hero work once. Which showed how invested he was in you. Sero tried to think of ideas for his friend. “Maybe try some romantic gestures? Like flowers with a sorry note? Surprise invites to dinner?”
“Try to do something that will soften her up so that you can have a heart-to-heart talk? Did you even tell her why you were getting anxious? The whole love-at-first-sight-thing?” Kirishima questioned Bakugo; they’d talked about how fast he’d become attached to you and your quirk may have made it easier for him to talk to you.
Bakugo groaned. Of course he didn’t tell you that shit. Too vulnerable and embarrassing to admit. Sero raised an eyebrow at him as Kaminari came back. Bakugo sighed even more realizing that the other two idiots hadn’t heard the story. “When I went to pick up Fujio that time, I saw her sitting with some brat in her lap as she read a story to them. She was just so…and her voice was…I just stood there in the doorway, completely fucking zoned out on her. I don’t even know what she was saying but I didn’t want her to stop talking. If the other worker there hadn’t come, I would have stayed there all night if it meant listening to her. And I was much further away than five feet so her quirk had nothing to do with how I felt. Every time I was with her, it was like my quirk was going off all over my body. And I just…had never felt anything like it…” At the end of his story, he could feel his cheeks on fire for reasons other than alcohol and he slammed his head down on the table.
“Say that, that right there. It’s perfect.” Sero nodded, writing down a list of ideas for sober Bakugo to look over tomorrow; he’s got his bro’s back. They all steadily added to the list, shooting out ideas and shutting down Kaminari’s ideas, making it apparent why he was still single.
But Bakugo hadn’t said anything; he never even lifted his head back up as the conversation continued. Kirishima looked over at him and realized why. “And he’s out. So maybe he wasn’t just tipsy.”
Quickly standing and placing his coat on, Sero smacked Kaminari on the back, making the blonde choke on his drink. “Kaminari, you should take him home.”
“Huh? Why me?!” Kaminari slammed his cup down in protest and wiped his mouth clean.
“I have an early morning and my girlfriend is coming over later tonight.” Sero just chuckled as he walked away.
Kirishima patted Kaminari on the shoulder as goodbye, leaving as well. “I got a wife and a kid that wants me to read him a bedtime story.”
Kaminari glared at his friends that had betrayed and left him with a wasted Bakugo. “Screw you guys, I get it. You are all going to get some. There is no need to lie, assholes.” Begrudgingly, Kaminari helped Bakugo to his feet.
(any ideas on how bakugo could win her back? Honestly, I been stuck on this for awhile.)
559 notes · View notes
the-mic-drop · 4 years
Audio
Shonen Jump Rap Cypher by Rustage
Lyrics below the cut
If anyone wants to break down some lines that you think not everyone will get, please feel free!
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Monkey D. Luffy- One Piece (Performed by Rustage)
Starting with the number one, hey
How’d a pirate get this long, hey
‘Cause I eat the gum-gum, see them run run
when I hit that gun, hey
Sailin’ I’m taking no breaks when my crew’s on the move as we pillage the grand line
Looting the treasure we can find
I’m blowing up like a landmine
Going gear second, I reckon that I’m a weapon
I’m wrecking up those who threaten in messing with my own brethren
Stay reppin’ look where I’m headin’
No question the Yonkos sweatin’
I’m bettin’ in words I’m yellin’
I’m the king and there’s no forgettin’, UH
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Gon Freecss- Hunter x Hunter (Performed by Fabvl)
I’ll jump the competition, really there’s no contest
Channeled future Nen and most of y’all ain’t even bomb yet
It’s nonsense
Pro exams completed as a child
Hisoka, I think these clowns are living in denial
So don’t make me power up, I’ll call the thunder at my right hand
If you want the strongest Shonen, then you called the right man
They might stan
Treat you all like Pitou, it won’t take long
Name is Gon and this time, I’mma make sure that you stay gone
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Naruto Uzumaki- Naruto (Performed by None Like Joshua)
Oh, better believe it’s Naruto
Who’s the best hero? All of you know
My legacy is happening, I got a type of running named after me
while you’re slow
Can’t keep up with my chakra flow
Except Hinata, I’m her Ho
Kage
All I did was call her and I told her to come over ‘cause my parents are not home
Out of these ninjas, you can watch my dub
Even all my filler is so far above
When it comes to Boruto, why y’all givin’ up
like I did with simpin’ on Sakura?
Killer B’s rapping, but I get the encore
With the power that I bring, I don’t really want yours
‘Cause I came from the swing, everybody shunned more
Now you’re looking at the king of this Jump Force
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Yami Yugi- Yu-Gi-Oh! (Performed by Connor Quest!)
I’mma master, you be
practice newbies
That’s a doozy
for Yami Yugi
Puzzle did something like a hadron tunnel
‘cause now I got Atem through me
Champ of the match see fans fawn, no matter what hand’s drawn
I’m kicking up dust, metal tanks in land form
When we d-d-d-d-duel there’s sandstorms
Cards are flippin’ I need an answer quick
and I might find my Dark Magician
If I wish, and believe hard enough in the heart that’s in ‘em
(Heart of the cards)
I see Seto’s fear
Pull the fifth part of Exodia
Guess it’s all came to a head, so clear
that your deck’s gonna get X’d, oh dear!
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Asta- Black Clover (Performed by Eddie Rath)
Welcome to the magic
It’s a tale that’s tragic
Filled with a pain that’s harder than plastic
especially when you discover you don’t have it
When I started I was less than amazing
But now that I’ve been chosen by the Grimoir, I’m rising to the occasion in a blazing flame of
Magic
Ain’t no Hocus Pocus and Abracadabra
Not a wizard you joke with
This is not Gandalf the Grey, but you shall not pass hopeless
Better be ferocious
Was the poorest orphan living in darkness
but now that I’m focused, I be thanking all my hardships
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Ichigo Kurosaki- Bleach (Performed by IBDL)
Uh, hittin’ back with that Bankai
Got that power like I came out of the Dangai
Pops passed the torch; now I’m the fam’s Don guy
Think you Aizen, but you lookin’ like that Don guy
Y’all like Soifon, your raps barely sting
My bars are Getsuga Tensho, got that masterful swing
They say, it ain’t over til the fat lady sings
But you’ll know it’s really over when that black lady sings
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Koro-sensei- Assassination Classrom (Performed by CDawgVA)
Mach speed
Blow up the moon and now I’m making these children write essays
Comin with tentacles teach you a lesson in why you don’t mess with the sensei
I amaze
Used to be the Reaper, now I run this class
I can turn a loser to assassin, do it real fast
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Light Yagami- Death Note (Performed by Zach Boucher)
I think I’ve been out of my head
Gift was given, made some poor decisions, that I wish I didn’t, but I’d do it again
Feeling different, I was on a mission to achieve my vision with a page and a pen
Sit and listen to the words I’ve written
I ain’t even finished ‘til I see that they’re dead
Don’t even try to pretend
There’s no malicious intent
Stay in my thoughts, stick to the morals I’ve got,
and kill everyone who is not
Just never get caught, ‘til every criminal rots
They’ll consider me as a god
At whatever cost, that’s how I excel
Cannot be stopped, even if I fell
I’m taking them off if you couldn’t tell
I gave up a lot to give you this L
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Shoyo Hinata- Haikyuu!! (Performed by Shwabadi)
Yah, here comes Hinata
When I’m on the court the enemy has got their guard up
Never gonna fall off, bet I’m gonna pop off
Way short, but I’m packing punches like a sawnoff
Hot like a sauna, this ball of fire don’t know nada
but I’m gonna chase desire to go farther
every jump will take me higher
They put walls up, so I had to learn to fly
Putting up points, spiking it, or clearing the way
Best decoy, got a little something to say
to anyone that doubts that I’m here to stay
Only got one goal, that’s to play the game
Underestimated, I’m the ace, you just wait
when I spike it past the net, you might take it to the face
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Izuku “Deku” Midoriya- My Hero Academia (Performed by Divide Music)
Coming in with 100% of me
I got you all trembling
Oh just with a flick of a finger
put you back where you’re supposed to be
I’m not, holding back
I got you so calculated. I’m
one step ahead, One for All gon’ be demonstrated
Get it? Got it? Good.
Nothing better and you should know
Started at the bottom
but I made it to the top so
Step aside, I’m climbing to great heights
with All-Might by my side
Reppin’ U.A. with pride, oh
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Yusuke Urameshi- Yu Yu Hakusho (Performed by GameBoyJones)
Giving you the finger, Spirit Gun
Send you off with Botan, then you done
Hit you with the stick, and I didn’t need a grip when I’m pulling from the hip, then click!
Because I’m, locked loaded, the clip is ready to go
Got a, shotgun in my hand that’s ‘bout to blow
Cause I’m hittin’ you quick fast
givin’ you whiplash
wearing these Spirit Cuffs
You could be human or demon, cause honestly, I just don’t give a fuck
If you’re looking for the best, just know there’s no other
‘cause I’m flexing out here like I’m the youngest Toguro brother
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Gintoki Sakata- Gintama (Perfomed by Shao Dao)
They call me, Gintoki, slim not stocky
Lemme Shonen Jump on your leg and your body
Odd Job Gin, don’t mess with my possee
If you touch my hair, then you will be sorry
Ne, boge (Hey, bloke)
Nanikore, uruseena (what is this? Not good.)
Cause you’re way too sloppy
Got a silver soul, Shiroyasha
Swing my sword and Amanto scatter
Gintama, not Kintama
Tell Shinpachi we need money
If Kagura or Katsura bring more trouble, we keep running
Pay rent? That’s a waste of time
That weather girl, I will make her mine
You can beat me up and that’s fair and fine
But if you hurt my friends, then prepare to die
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Tanjiro Kamado- Demon Slayer (Performed by DizzyEight)
Look, slayin’ demons that’s what we do
If you filled with evil, then my blade is highly lethal
If you comin’ at my people, pray to god I never meet you
Ever mess with Nez, you KO’d when I see you
I’ve grown stronger from that fateful day they found me
I trained hard to hone the skill, the progression so astounding
My style like breathing water, that mean you can never drown me
Whirlpool, that mean I’m slicin’ everything around me
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Emma- The Promised Neverland (Performed by FrivolousShara)
E-M-M-A 63194
Listen to what I’ve gotta say
The others walked, seems now we’ve gotta run away
Don’t you talk, adults are the enemy
You can break every bone in my body, I won’t falter
and if the plan fails, the idea simply alters
Ah, these demons scheming, but they ain’t the only monsters
Our combined IQ breaks the safe, strength in numbers
Now we’ve woken from the slumber
Never ending perfect Summers
Across the farm, you can’t help but wonder
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Soma Yukihira- Food Wars! (Performed by DiggzDaProphecy)
See I’m the anime Raekwon
The chef baby, stay calm
You can’t stand the heat
Stay out the kitchen, get a day job
Word, and the finale’s superb
I take a sec, put on my band, an’ I’ll be happy to serve, uh
So ma, tell me what you like and I can hook it up
Ya boy’s got them recipes the best couldn’t cook it up
And she gon’ bust from the taste of my meat
Chef, boy are these boys always cookin’ up heat
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Jotaro Kujo- Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure (Performed by Dreaded Yasuke)
It’s my go, they call me Jotaro
Don’t get me mad, I’mma go fat only with jabs you go through silos
Got that drip from Cairo, girls will simp my silhouette
I know think it’s a typo fighting with a platinum psycho
None of y’all is a threat
What you gotta say in your breath
Better speak with a bigger chest
Now you lyin’ down with my pet,
while Iggy piss on your neck
All types of disrespect, what you expect?
Go against a vet, better get your techs
wanna get swept through the complex,
now who is next?
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Bobobo- Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo (Performed by BassedOlaf w/ ThighHighSenpai)
Bobobo making the foes stare
Call me the master of nose hair
Look at the hair on the heads of these anime characters,
brother, it’s no fair
But I’m better than these guys, don’t you understand?
I came second place at screaming face-to-face with desk fans
Afro is full of surprises, look at my power’s immense
Leaving beauty screaming-
(Bobobo, that makes no sense!)
Hunting hair hunters, Saitama, I’m coming for you
Don Patch a better Super Saiyan God than Goku
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Son Goku- Dragon Ball (Performed by DaddyPhatSnaps)
Oh they went and called Kakarot
had to be danger
Leave em flat-footed like they in the gravity chamber
I’m just looking for a challenge, can you battle me stranger?
Shonen legend in the saddle and the power is major
Level up on the track, flow Ultra Instinct
Bye bye bye fusion dance is always in sync
Wink
And they wonder why I’m last on the song
‘Cause when all of y’all were talking
I just formed a Spirit Bomb
14 notes · View notes
snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years
Note
FFT: I Wrote Myself Back in the Narrative
AHHH. First of all, without YOU, bb.. This idea would’ve never really full on clicked like it has. So.. Thank you so so so much and ILY. Second. This is written first person, split between our mystery guy from part 1 and the female’s pov as they... continue to deal with things. I triiiied things here. 
It’s still angsty as hell, smh. It��s gonna be angsty as hell for a hot minute. Idek if I can promise that it’ll end on a good note. Because now there are two more parts to this. Thank you again, so so much because you heavily inspired me and without the input you gave, ugh. I would’ve fucked this up so bad.
Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Or my /attempt/ at angst. Maybe the next part will be happier, who knows. Are we ready to find out who this man in part 1 was? I have a feeling ya’ll are gonna murder me. OH OH... This whole part of everything takes place over the course of a few weeks in between each section. If that makes sense.
Tag Squad:
@kyleoreillysknee
@rampagewriting
@writertoo18
@thatnerdwriter
@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@unabashedwrestlefics
@adampage
@cabotcoves
@dietwrestling
@heelsamizayn
@missjenniferb
@cowboyshit
[ tag list ] [ masterlist ] [ about ] [ part 1 ] 
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A D A M
“You did the right thing, man. I told ya, you were rushing headfirst into something. You were sparing her, man. We both know where it was heading. Now I know you’ve been missin her lately, but you gotta stay the course… Trust me.” Matt’s voice broke through my thoughts and I forced myself to at least shrug my shoulders and pretend to be listening to him going on and on and on.
It’s nights like tonight I really wish the guy would shut the hell up sometimes. It’s like he thinks it’s his place to tell me exactly what to do. Or when I’m doin’ something and he thinks I ought to be doing it different.
“Matt, man.. C’mon, knock it off. He’s hurting right now.” That was Nick. Probably the only real voice of reason at the moment. I could feel him glare at Matty over my head and I didn’t bother looking up from the lukewarm beer sitting in front of me. Instead, I raised the glass to my lips and did my level best to ignore both. I told them I’d be fine coming out by myself tonight, whether I wanted them tagging along or not, here they were.
In my ear, like usual.
“I’m fine.” the words left my mouth in a harsh tone, the dull ache in my teeth makin me realize just how tight I was clenching my jaw right now. I rubbed my face and tried to get some relief as I looked around the bar.
Beside me on either side, they kept at it, almost as if I hadn’t said a word. Arguin over whether Matt was pushin too hard.
“Besides, man.. When I saw her last week, she looked totally fine.” Matt shrugged, smirking just a little. “In a little bit of a hurry, but she seemed like it didn’t bother her at all. I think she even said something about a date, I don’t know, man. But it’s like I said… You did the right thing. It wasn’t working, so you ended things before someone got hurt and things got real messy.” 
Every part of me tensed up when Matt said he’d seen her and my head snapped around as I looked at him, trying not to lose my temper. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me… Matt was entirely too adamant about me staying away.
And we all know how he is when he wants something. 
,, you’re the one who let her go. Did you think she’d just sit around waitin?” the thought came and man was I bitter about it. 
“You look mad, Adam.”
“Well I’m not thrilled right now, Matt.” the words came out before I could stop them. And when they did, I realized just how much the thought of Matt Jackson anywhere near her really bothered me. How much it had all along. Because he thinks I’m stupid but I knew every single time he flirted with her. I know he’s the one who told her about my last relationship and how messed up I was when it ended.
How my ex was the love of my life, to quote him. While true, I didn’t want or need him speaking for me and telling her that. I didn’t ask him to butt in.
,, you never do, to be honest.” 
My hand curled around the bottle sitting in front of me and I shotgunned it. If I didn’t so something, I was going to wind up havin it out with Matt Jackson once and for all. Not that it hasn’t been a long time comin.. Between him and Kenny, as of late, I’m startin to lose my damn mind.
I stay angry.
They’re supposed to be my best friends, damn it. I don’t wanna hate my best friends. I try not to. I do everything but bend over backwards to avoid rocking the boat. But Matt seein her and just throwing it up in conversation just now, with that fucking smirk. Like he’s trying to rub it in. I’m dangerously close to no longer caring.
I had to get outta there. Away from the two of them. I needed to be alone. I needed to think. To have time to hurt and feel like I was free to do it. 
“Where are you going, huh? We’ve got food coming, man. C’mon. Stay out with us. You can’t keep going to your room and hiding.” Nick was trying desperately to keep the peace but honestly, I didn’t want to. I snatched up the remainder of the six pack I bought from the bartender earlier in the night, slammed badly wadded money down on the counter and I stood, shoving the stool back beneath the bar.
Nick caught up to me outside the bar, reaching out for my arm, trying to stop me, but I shoved his hand off. 
“Can’t either of ya take a damn hint? I don’t wanna talk about how I did the right thing. I don’t wanna hear about Matt runnin into her. I just wanna go five goddamn minutes without feelin, okay? Can either of ya just let me have that?”
Nick flinched and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Nick’s done nothin to me. Not like his brother and Kenny, always in my ear, always tryin to make me fall back in line and ignore my own gut. Or my own desires.
“Sorry, Nick. Look. I appreciate what you’re tryin to do but I ain’t exactly in the mood tonight, man. And I might not be in the mood for a while. And ya’ll have to be okay with that. Stop trying to make me snap out of it.”
“This is because Matt pulled that shit in there, right? I’ll talk to him later. Just take your time, man.” Nick managed a smile and I nodded, agreeing.
After he went back inside the bar to finish whatever food they ordered while watching the tail end of the game they’d dragged me out to watch with them tonight, I called an Uber and as I waited, I found myself doing it yet again.
Hovering over ❤ in my contacts, I was torn between finally doing it, finally deleting the last trace of her I had, from my life and just hitting call, just to see if she’d answer. Frustration made me shove the phone back into the pocket of my jeans without doing either and I went back to leaning up against the wall of the sports bar as I finished the open beer in my hand. I took the last sip, feeling the warmth slide down my throat and settle in my stomach, grimacing at the hangover already in progress. The Uber I’d called for pulled to a stop beside me and I got in, giving directions to the hotel and going silent after.
All the way across town and back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about that last night I saw her. Or the way it hurt like hell when Matt told me she seemed fine. 
,, do you really want it to hurt her, though?”
I didn’t, but I couldn’t deny that maybe a part of me wanted her to miss me just a little. To hear Matt tell it, she’s fine and dandy. And this lead me to circle right back to how calmly she handled the whole thing that night.
And those doubts crept right back in again.
Maybe the guys were right. Maybe I did the right thing.
,, and Matt having a thing for flirting with her when you were together, right under your nose at that, that has absolutely nothing to do with why he thought it was a good idea.” 
All I could honestly do was just sit in the backseat of the Uber and knock ‘em back, one behind the other. Anything else is out of the question right now. I am not goin’ down this road while I’m drunk and missin her.
If I did go down any road as far as all this is concerned, I wanna be one hundred percent sure I feel what I feel. I need to think. I need time outta the situation, without people in my ear.
This is something I have to do on my own.
VERONICA
Like most other nights, I tossed and turned on the king sized bed before finally calling it and getting up, grumbling to myself as I made my way down the hallway and into my kitchen. I started myself a pot of coffee and as I did that, I found myself scrolling Instagram.
Naturally, I found myself doing it, even though I unfollowed him on literally everything after things ended between us because it just hurt too damn much.
It’s been almost 5 months now and it still hurts. The pain still cuts like a knife when I actually give myself a little time to let it linger.
Kind of why I’ve thrown myself into work. I even made a Tinder profile, even though I’m absolutely loathe to use the damn thing.
Before I realized what I’d done, I’d typed his instagram handle into the search bar and I found myself scrolling his timeline while I sipped a steamy mug of coffee. “At least he looks okay.” I muttered to myself, shattering the heavy silence around me.
Despite myself, I wound up spending entirely too much time watching one of his random post match videos. Fingertip against the screen. It hurt so goddamn much and yet, it had to happen because all I could think about was how much he loved someone else and just kind of… settled for me.
Running into his friend Matt earlier this week hadn’t helped all this recent re-stirring. Because even now, actively not trying to think back and hurt and miss Adam knowing what happened between us was for the best… I kept going back to Matt reassuring me that Adam was perfectly fine and that he hadn’t been bothered by breaking up with me at all. And I kept getting more and more bitter over it.
When I felt a tear trek down my cheek, I tossed the phone onto the counter and scowled at my reflection in the microwave. 
I told myself I was not settling for being silver. I wanna be someone’s gold.
,, but he made it so fucking easy to fall hard and fast. Get so wrapped up in him that for a little while, you didn’t think about that.” I blatantly shoved the thought down as soon as it crossed my mind and with a sigh, I sat the cup of coffee in the sink half drank.
I’ve got work. Other things to focus on. And I’m trying to look at the bright side here. One day, I’ll be someone’s gold.
VERONICA
→ You know you’re coming out with us tonight, right girl?
I got the text at 4:30, just as I walked out of the building I work in and stopped to dig around in my purse for my car keys. Once I read it, I laughed to myself and managed a smile. Normally, I’d have begged off. It’s what I’ve been doing a lot since things ended between Adam and I.
But I remembered what Matt told me two weeks ago when I bumped into him. Adam hasn’t wasted a single second caught up in what might have been. Why should I?
← Sure. 8, right? The usual spot?
→ Holy shit, is this a Christmas miracle coming early? You’re finally going to take a break from being Little Ms. Moneymaker?
I laughed to myself and opened the door to my car, getting in. As soon as I had, I dialed Marti’s  number.
“Little Ms. Moneymaker, my ass. I’d like to see one shred of this money you think I’m making.” I responded to her last text seconds before, she hadn’t even said hello yet.
Marti laughed.
I turned into traffic, promptly getting stuck at a long red. “Fuck me alive.. It had to be the longest light in town.” I grumbled to myself, listening to Marti telling me about a soccer player she met at our usual bar a few weeks ago and how he’s supposed to be back from the road tonight and meeting her.
“Oh? Well, guess who made a Tinder and hasn’t bothered looking at it since.”
“You.. Wait…” Marti was laughing, I know she didn’t believe me, “You made a Tinder.”
“Yes.” I almost wanted to laugh at myself, shaking my head as I admitted it. 
“Well? Have you met anybody?” she grilled.
“I made the profile and haven’t bothered looking at it since.” I admitted sheepishly, foot on the gas as the light changed from red to green. 
“That’s it. Tonight, so help me. You’re swiping right on at least one guy.”
“Teenie..”
“Don’t Teenie me. This is happening. Not to mention, I have to see if you actually made your profile worth looking at twice. Especially if you want hookups. And trust me girl, you need a hookup.”
“Like I need a goddamn hole in my head.” I snorted in laughter as I pulled my car to a stop at the curb in front of my house. “But fine.. Since you insist. You can look over my Tinder profile and see if it looks like I’m worth risking a swipe on.”
“You are, don’t say that. You just… try to hide the real you under all that boring shit.”
I bit my lip as I let her words sink in.
Maybe she had a point. I hadn’t truly let Adam in until I thought it was safe to do so and look how that one turned out. I sighed quietly, nodding to myself as I shut the door to my car with my hip. “Okay. Hint taken. But maybe I need to change all that.”
“So maybe you’ll pull the stick out of your ass tonight and have just a little fun? You know I hate seeing you hurting like this.”
“It doesn’t hurt. It was for the best… That whole thing ended.”
As much as I hate admitting it, given what Matt told me when we ran into each other, things ending with Adam and I had to be the right choice.
,, but what if you’re totally wrong?”
ADAM
I’m not even sure what possessed me to look her up when we got a little break between shows and the road. I don’t know what the hell I thought it’d accomplish, casually bumpin into her again, other than ripping the band-aid off a healing wound.
But here I was. Standing in the parking lot of her office building. Hidden out of sight, of course. Not that I was going to stay hidden. No, I’d come all this way to do exactly one thing… To fix the mess I now know full well I made that night.
I’ve had time out of it all and I realized one thing.
Somewhere in everything, I really had fallen for her. Hard.
I just had to hope it wasn’t too late. But prepare myself because lately, my luck’s been absolute shit.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched her walking out. I bit my lip, eyes roaming slowly, just taking her in. Because I hadn’t done that nearly enough when she was mine. I was an idiot.
Seeing her again felt like a suckerpunch to the stomach. The wind got knocked right out of me. I stood there, trying to will myself to step out. To say or do anything. Even if it was simple as a hey.
She walked right past me, towards her Camaro a few rows back and she leaned against the Camaro, laughing and talking. I had to get closer but at the same time, I knew that all I was doing was torturing myself, especially if I came all this way and said nothing.
I watched her smile light up the world around me as a car pulled to a stop next to her car. The guy got out and she smiled even brighter, her cheeks tinting pink, her eyes lighting up, the streetlight above bathing her in a cool white glow as the sun sank lower.
The guy didn’t strike me as her type. Dark haired, wearin a suit. He held out a bouquet of roses and my stomach sank to the ground. I raised a hand, tugging at my hair as it hit me.
Everything I realized recently was too little, too late.
I turned and started to walk away, I think I wandered about two blocks before I stopped at a little bar and went in, ordering myself a few rounds. Almost the instant my ass met stool, my cell phone was buzzing in my pocket. I rolled my eyes when I realized that it was Kenny calling.
Kenny who suggested I come here. Seeing her might prove things one way or another. I shouldn’t have fucking listened to him, but naturally.. He insisted, so I finally gave in to get him off my ass.
“Well?”
“I think it’s really over, man. I saw her, alright. And she’s happy. Too happy to do what I came to do.”
“So you’re good now. You can let this go. You can stop all this pushing you’ve been doing lately?”
“Oh, I’m not stoppin that. We all know I deserve a shot. I just know better than to mess up her happiness. I love her too much for that.”
“Damn it, Adam, we’ve all went over this with you. Your time is coming. Just not right now. Besides, “ Kenny paused, taking a few deep breaths. I could feel his annoyance over the conversation through the phone.
That’s not a surprise. Lately, I’ve started to see that unless it’s about them? They’re not interested. And maybe I’m tired of letting everybody else dictate what direction I take. Hell, that’s the whole reason I ended things with her to begin with. 
I let my insecurities get in the way. Kept thinking one day she’d leave too.
Now I just want her back.
So if I can’t have her back? I’m at least going to do something about everything else I want that stays just outside my grasp.
“Besides what, huh?” I snapped, chewing on a toothpick I’d taken from the little dispenser full sitting in front of me, scowling at the phone in my hands.
“You’re not in your best form right now, buddy and you haven’t been in weeks.”
I hung up before he could say anything else.
And as I sat there, nursing round after round, I found myself doing it for the millionth time… Going to her instagram and going through every single thing she’s posted. Hovering over her name in my contacts list and nearly calling five, six, almost seven times before I finally sighed and made myself delete her number.
I really fucked it up this time.
And honestly? Knowing that hurts more than the end ever did in the first place...
13 notes · View notes
steveusesfaberge · 5 years
Text
Better Parent (pt. ii)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Summary: The kids have their loving mother and...uhh...other mother...take them to the Wheelers’ house; an advice filled car ride later - and some quality time with his favorite girl.... and it ends with a shifty scheme crafted by only the best intentions, and two teens not doing the babysitting they were assigned to do...wonderful. Sounds just like another day for Harrington!
Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns
Warning(s): Fluff~, momma Steve, heed all warnings… Oh, and a bit of cursing! >.<
Word Count: +4,100
a/n: The is part two to Better Parent and with that being said, I hope you all enjoy!
Part 1 - Part 2 (you are here) - Part 3
Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! <3
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
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“Hey--”
“Move over, your ass is in my lap!”
“Hello?”
“What?! You're practically in my seat!”
“Is anyone even listening to--”
“Stop it guys - don’t push!”
“Hey! Dickheads! Would you all quit it? Goddamn, why didn’t one of you go with Y/N like she suggested?” Steve growled while trying not to crash the car. The boys had all decided they’d tumble into his car...leaving a party of three merrily skipping to the other teenager’s car...it wasn’t like there was anything wrong with it! - Y/N’s car was actually quite nice; she took care of it and even had a better radio than Steve...
“Because then we’d be alone with all that estrogen...not happening, Harrington,” Lucas spoke up while giving Mike a hard shove to his side. Will was groaning in annoyance as his friends jostled him to be pressed harshly to the car door. While Dustin happily was messing with the stereo (when he’d called shotgun - and Steve allowed it, Y/N had claimed it was ‘favoritism amongst their six babies who she, as the better parent, loved equally. Thus, no one would be sitting passenger in her car. Steve figured that’s why none of the boys wanted to go, being squeezed between El and Max might not be ideal...though Harrington knew better. Y/N liked playing her own music, and with a grubby hand like Dustin’s all over the radio - her rule had been set long before she became a mom).
“Mhm, sure,” Steve grumbled while rubbing his temple, already regretting agreeing to this. It wasn’t like it was a long ride back to Mike’s house - but goddamn did these knuckleheads make it feel like it... “Tell me that again when you’re not off sucking faces with Max,” the older boy was praised with ohs and ahs as he snapped the remark at Sinclair.
“At least I have a girlfriend,” Lucas defended, earning his own audience of noise.
“A-hahhhh, and what the hell is that supposed to mean, asshole?” Steve jabbed while resting his elbow on the rim of his window, it had been rolled down because all the movement in the car had it feel like a damn sauna. Dustin was still messing with his radio, flipping channels and making the music louder when Steve had specifically told him to turn it down. He slapped the said boy’s hand away and scolded him briefly,” Hands off, Henderson - how many times do I have to say it? It’s distracting me - do you want to die?” He exhaled slowly, trying not to pull the car over and kick each out to the side of the road. Either having to walk the rest of the way or ask Y/N.
“I mean - I have the balls to even kiss a girl - or are you and girly Henderson dating without us knowing?” Lucas drilled, earning a head nod from Mike, and an eye-roll from Will who just wanted to get to the house (he was more interested in DnD than how poorly Steve’s love life was going).
Steve abruptly stopped the car. He heard Y/N slamming on the breaks, a honk of her horn and the muffled sound of her cursing him off for such a dangerous stunt. He ignored it though, deciding to deal with the consequences later. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone behind Y/N to backend her (he wasn’t dumb enough to do such a thing with precious cargo...).
“What? You know how many girls I’ve kissed? How many I’ve made out with? Huh? Do you forget who I am?” He wiped his chin and shook his head with a defensive blush finding his face. He took a breath in and exhaled with a more composed manner. He tried to ignore the way the boys in the back held their laughter in, and definitely, decided to ignore the way Dustin watched them all in confusion (dumbass didn’t even see the way Steve looked at his sister).
“Me and Y/N...are not a thing. We’re not together, we’re not a couple, we’re not an item,” he drawled while shaking his head. After a few moments of silence, the boys clearly conflicted on to continue laughing or feel bad for the way Steve’s tone dropped off at the end of his sentence.
He started down the road again, both hands gripping the wheel tightly; his eyes never leaving the windshield. His ears painted pink.
“You...you guys know this,” he mumbled while shaking his head once more, flipping Y/N off in his rearview mirror.
“I know but--,” Mike was cut off with a soft sigh from Harrington.
“I-I can’t. Okay? Is that what you wanna hear from me? That...that I know I’m not good enough for her? That...I’m scared if I told her, she’d swallow me whole and I’d never be able to look her in the eyes?” The desperate drag of his tone was obvious (maybe Y/N was right; he’d stooped to King Steve level of desperation...not for other girls...but...to just get a chance with her...anything...anything...he’d do anything).
The rest of the ride was filled with the boys in the back, coming up with love advice for Steve. Ask her out, just do it - be confident! Write her a letter. Tell her she looks nice. Ask her if she wants a boyfriend. Tell her she’s hot. Oh, what about showing her-- they’d reached the Wheeler estate and as they began unbuckling and getting ready to leave the car (thank the Lord, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take), and Dustin - who had been silent the majority of the ride finally spoke.
“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” He sputtered while his eyebrows furrowed in utter shock and confusion.
Steve rolled his eyes, and pushed his door open, calling over his shoulder,” I like your sister, dude. We’ve established this like....thirty-six times. Catch up, dipshit.” All embarrassment he had earlier had washed away, being replaced with a bubbling feeling of nerves and doubt. The boys were trying to be nice, do their best...but...they were all awkward preteens...their advice was as good as Steve consulting a Magic 8-Ball.
Inside the house, before trucking to Mike’s basement - Dustin dragged Steve to the kitchen, his mind still trying to figure out what had been revealed (or more so, finally brought up as Steve’s feelings for Y/N had always been the weird, pink-polka-dotted elephant in the room).
“What’re you doing? - They’ll start without you--,” Steve was hushed as Dustin slapped his hand to his mouth.
“My sister?” Dustin whisper-shouted. Steve rolled his eyes for the nth time and tugged Henderson’s grip from his face.
“Yeah, dingus - we’ve been over this--,”
“But my sister...Steve...why?” Dustin wasn’t sure how he felt about it clearly, and it only made Steve more nervous. That feeling that sunk into his bones, not a good one. Of course, if he were going to date Y/N...he’d need his best friend’s (and favorite child’s) permission.
“Whaddya want me to say! She’s like...the only girl I hang out with that’s my age, besides Robin, that I don’t mind,” Steve paused,” Might I remind you - Robin’s not into dudes.” It was almost sad how his social life had crumbled along with his desire to capture anyone else’s attention but Y/N’s (and of course, he’d tried to push those feelings aside for the sake of your friendship...but...it never worked).
Dustin was quiet; longer than Steve would’ve liked, as sitting in the soft silence was nervewracking. The curly-haired sibling stood, arms crossed, eyes clouded with thought as he rubbed his chin. Steve tapped his foot, leaning on the kitchen countertop as he waited, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, this kid’s such a headache...
“Dusty - Will told me, to tell you, that if you don’t go down now, you’ll be left out,” Y/N was just turning the corner when she spotted the pair in the kitchen, seeming as if they were in quite the predicament. 
“Is this a private moment...or?” she spoke slowly, a tease to her words.
“N-No! I was...just...telling Steve that...um...,” his attention now on the older boy who had a hand ruffling through his hair for any imperfections (though who was he kidding? Harrington had the best head of hair in Hawkins).
“I was telling him if he doesn’t do it...I’ll...be disappointed...guy stuff,” Dustin gave Harrington a sincere half-grin and there was obviously a conversation to be held later (but Y/N’s appearance lead Dustin to keep his mouth shut for now).
“Really?” Steve asked, his brows raised as he took the boy’s words in.
“Yeah...yeah...just...don’t do something weird in front of me,” Dustin lowered his voice as he spoke the last bit.
“Alright, enough bro-talk, Dusty - get going and leave the adults to talk.” Y/N rolled her eyes; ruffling his hair as he passed by.
It was just the two of them, and Steve was trying not to do something stupid. Walking forward, he felt his body involuntarily tense up as she moved to stand a few feet from him - though a few feet was more than enough to render his mind as blank as all hell. His body completely useless now...
Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid. Don’t do something stupid....
“Did you want to do something while they messed around? Like catch a movie or--,” Y/N was interrupted by the blubbering fool before her.
“Your letter - uh, looks nice -- I mean, it looks hot! No - wait...that...that didn’t come out right.” Steve’s outburst granted an unsure look from her. Please just kill me now...did...did I say that? Well...all logic had found its way out the nearest fucking window...
“What?” Was all Y/N said while waiting for Steve with furrowed brows.
He covered his eyes, his free hand waving around for a dazed second as he tried to get the proper words out. Breathe...be natural...be confident....don’t fuck it up like that again, Harrington.
“I meant to say - you look nice,” he paused,” And to answer your question, why don’t we just go down and um...finally settle the score?” That...was...better.
Y/N shrugged, nodding as she reached for his hand. At that moment, Steve’s heart flatlined and he was sure he was now staring at an angel as she dragged him across the house, to the basement. “Sounds good - be prepared because momma ain’t leavin’ without her babies’ approval,” Steve could only nod to the back of her head as she spoke such fighting words.
If you asked Steve Harrington at the beginning of high school - what he thought about spending his free-time with six underaged dweebs who all were too smart-assy for their own good, and got themselves in trouble with hell (literally)...he’d have laughed and told you, you were as delusional as Byers.
If you asked the Steve Harrington the same question now - he’d look around at the six underaged dweebs shouting and arguing around a table laid out with character sheets, figurines, and dice... He’d laugh at their quick remarks and their tendency to use foul language, and he’d smile. Steve would’ve congratulated Byers’ brother for being the best Dungeon Master, the world had to offer.
If you told him, roughly five years after high school - he’d be seated on a busted sofa, in his ex’s basement, coke loosely held in one hand, the other pushing a pretty girl’s head away from him in a teasing manner...he’d...well..he’d not believe you. Because you’d describe the girl as someone so...amazing, so incomparable, that he’d think you’d made her up. You’d say that she was so breathtaking, that if you were in the same space as her for too long - you’d die from a lack of oxygen. That she had the most stunning y/c/e eyes he’d ever have the perquisite of seeing, and they’d have him chasing her for ages...having him choke on his own spit when she looked at him. Not to mention, the heartstopping laugh she’d have...the kind of laugh that had any guy (not just dorky Harrington) fall harder than he thought possible. Finding himself in an endless fall that put even Alice’s rabbit hole tumble to shame. She’d have a melody that had him trip over his words and stumble to find his footing. Yeah...Steve would not have believed you.
And yet, here he was...watching six dweebs play Dungeons and Dragons; with a girl he was madly in love with - more perfect than words could offer, sitting on a busted sofa, in his ex’s basement, no more than a foot between them...
“I’m tellin’ you, Steves - I’m the better parent, because the girls love me, and the boys worship me,” Y/N explained while pulling an L up to her forehead. Steve scoffed and waved her off.
“Actually - I don’t worship you, I worship Steve for giving me his hair secre--,”
Steve began snapping with his left hand, shaking his head and glaring. “Hey, hey, hey! Shithead - you swore on your life, you’d never say jackshit about that!” Dustin threw his hands out in silent defense.
“Sorry, I was just standing up for y--,” Steve shook his head once more, blowing him off with a puff of his cheeks. “Remember what I said? One peep - and your ass, yeah the one you’re sitting on now, is grass, Henderson. Grass.”
The gang began laughing at Steve’s overprotective outburst of his “best feature”. The brunette only tsked, mumbling obscenities.
“That wasn’t very better parent material, Steve,” Max snickered while El whispered something in her ear.
“Aye! No whispering under my watch - if you have a secret, you can say it aloud in front of the family,” he stressed with fake authority.
“But you just told Dustin--,” “Eleven - I don’t need a smartass.” Steve pursed his lips.
The kids eventually settled back down, getting sucked into their fantasy world once more without a second glance to the pair on the sofa. Y/N was clamping a hand to her mouth, trying not to let the amusement slip from her lips. She loved seeing Steve with the kids - he was so....dorky and sweet in his own way...saying so, she could almost admit she loved h--
“What’re you laughing at, Ms. Not-the-best-parent-because-you-suck-and-don’t-have-great-ass-hair?” Steve hissed in a low tone. His eyes watching the way Y/N’s flickered with happiness and one emotion he couldn’t quite place.
“You’re wrong for two reasons, Harrington,” she mused.
“Enlighten me,” he replied, leaning to have only a few inches between the two of you. It had been on a fleeting moment of confidence, leaving Y/N with a bright red glow - and Steve with a dumb grin. He wasn’t sure if he was proud of it, or extremely embarrassed...he settled to let her finish instead.
“Well, one: you’re not the better parent. I am,” Y/N pinched his cheek, to which he tried to back out of, but she only squeezed harder, leaving Steve to let out a grievance of annoyance as she tugged him back to listen.
“And two: your hair isn’t that great. I mean--” Steve gasped in a dramatic hurt. Falling from her grip and bending over her lap like a speared body. “Stop! Right there, don’t finish that sentence...you’ll ruin everything I’ve worked for.” he pleaded. His tongue sticking out his mouth as if he’d ‘died’.
Y/N giggled watching his childish act and rolling her eyes, a good-natured smile on her lips. She brushed a hand through his hair and spoke in an exaggerated tone,” I’m so sorry, Steves, please forgive--,” in the time of her talking, Steve had lifted a hand and silenced her with the odd hand-motion that looked like a duck, then grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his scalp.
“You don’t get the privilege to touch my great ass hair, even if I’m dead.” He mumbled, stifled by her lap. Even though in actuality, he loved the feeling and knew if she didn’t stop he’d fall asleep.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Y/N proclaimed while attempting to shove the limp body of Steve Harrington from her own. “Nuhu,” he murmured.
Watching the two teenagers fall all over one another, the six children held back their gags.
“It’s so sad,” Max mumbled.
“Yeah, so sad I can’t focus on this raid,” Lucas agreed while knocking his head against the table.
“It’s like watching two blind...like very blind bats try, and make love.” Mike spewed.
“Thanks for the visual,” Will snorted.
“I think it’s sweet.” Everyone looked to El as she shrugged with a sheepish look.
“What? Steve...he likes her. Why is that bad?” She grabbed Mike’s hand. “I like Mike. Mike likes me - why is Steve and Y/N any different?”
The idea hit them like a ton of bricks...or, maybe it was the obnoxious laughter of their favorite Henderson (to Dustin’s protest) being tickled by Harrington, that snapped them into realization.
Steve was basically, on top of her. His hands running down her sides as she squirmed, refusing to apologize for saying she was better than him, and that his hair wasn’t anything special... While it was cringe-worthy on every level (according to a sulking brother), it was...sweet.
Y/N had a smile on her lips that they’d never really seen before - save for when Harrington entered the room. It was like he said the funniest thing without really having to say anything at all...like Steve brought out the best in her without having to lift a finger. Stomach in knots when he called her name...it was that kind of smile that Steve was able to bring out.
As for Harrington himself? His smile remained even after she left. Having spent a whole day with her - the party would catch him grinning to himself like a madman while helping them put away their game set-up. They’d catch him repeating things he’d said that happened to make Y/N smile the way he loved... It was the kind of look that you couldn’t replicate, even if you tried...only if you knew the feeling - could you do so.
Realizing this, Dustin yelled and groaned silently in his head (half disgust and half reluctant understanding). Steve, you owe me big time for this...
“Fine,” he whispered, catching everyone’s gaze but the two still messing bout on the sofa. “What’s the plan?”
“You’re s-such a l-loserrrr!” Y/N slurred while trying to struggle free of the handsome boy before her. Steve knew she had a soft spot for being so sensitive - he’d figured it out one time when she almost knocked him out on accident...(it ended with a lot of apologizing on your part, while also laughing as he held a bag of frozen peas to his face to avoid any swelling...)
“Admit it, and I’ll stop,” Steve tried to sound as serious as possible, failing utterly as Y/N’s y/c/h was splayed out like a crooked halo. Truly an angel...if anything, he wasn’t sure what he’d done in his (not so great) lifetime to earn the graces of such a human as you...good God...
Catching his gaze, Y/N shook her head (her halo only following her as any good angels’ would). “I-I...haha...will...n-never...a-admit...a-a lie!”
Steve only clicked his tongue. Sighing with a shake of his head. “I guess you’ll suffer until the end of time then, huh?”
After a few more minutes of torture (which Steve called, making sure Y/N had gotten her daily dose of laughter - as it was the best medicine and he didn’t need her falling ill any time soon, because...well...he didn’t have any apples on deck), he stopped, finally allowing her a breath of stability. He scooted down so he could cross his arms over her stomach, half his face buried there as he watched her collect herself.
It was moments like these that Steve truly cherished the most...he wondered if Y/N had the same mindset.
Because he’d honestly, never felt so good with anyone - not even with Nancy, who admittedly, was someone he’d actually held some feelings for (of course, the emotions Y/N threw at him had always overshadowed them, but Wheeler breaking his heart didn’t hurt any less). Steve had never wanted to give someone the world - mainly because it was impossible - but he knew that if Y/N simply suggested that such an action would, make her even smile for a few seconds...he’d figure out a way to do it within the next twenty-four hours.
You know, you’re like really pretty. Do you know what you do to me, Y/N? Is what Steve so hopelessly wanted to say, but he didn’t, instead, settling for a much simpler version.
“You wouldn’t be able to pull off this hair like I do...which is why...if you really wanted me to, I’d teach you my ways,” it came out as a harsh whisper of sorts - his jaw not having much movement as it was pressed to the crook of his elbow, both arms still rested on Y/N’s abdomen.
She laughed, and it sent a vibration through his body as he was rested atop her - only resulting in a chuckle of his own. The same wave taking ahold of Y/N, as Harrington’s chest rose and fell with each quick, shortened breath.
It was like they were in their own little world...too bad Dustin throwing a pillow at Steve’s head had to ruin it.
“So, we’ve come to a conclusion...,” Dustin explained, watching Harrington awkwardly try and sit up off his sister - Steve’s face burning up. Though, Y/N was in no better condition...her hands found her neck and her cheeks were a lovely shade of sunset.
“Oh, yeah?” Steve hummed while glancing at a nearby digital clock. “It better not be something crazy - ‘cause it’s almost ten o’clock and I think some of you need to get home.” Y/N nodded in agreement, leaning over and using her hand as a terrible shield,” Nice one...trying to act all momma bear like...I think they’ll definitely say you’re the better parent now.” “Har, har. Your sarcasm wasn’t necessary, Henderson,” Steve noted while flicking her forehead.
“We all need to go upstairs,” El suddenly directed. A hand raising to point, as if proving her sentence true.
Steve froze, unsure of where this was exactly going...but seeing as El usually had only good things to say...and a good intention...he nodded, words slow as he spoke,” Okay...okay...we’ll go upstairs then.”
They all marched up, like eight odd ants in a line - and when Mike suggested they watch a movie before Steve and Y/N drove them all home; it was quickly unanimous (which was a hard deal, as both teenagers knew getting six hardheaded children to agree on something was worse than trying to get Billy Hargrove to turn down a pretty face and a tight dress).
“Uh, ‘kay then...I guess we’re watching...a movie now,” Steve mumbled, trying to figure out the sudden change in pace. He was sure they hadn’t even finished their round, or match...or whatever they called it (he had only tried to play DnD once and...well...that’s a story for another time).
“I’ll see if there are any blankets, Mike, would you mind seeing if there’s any popcor--,” “Oh....you’re not watching the movie...did you think you’d be watching it with us?” Was Wheeler’s response.
Six shit-eating grins and twelve hands shoving a Scoops Ahoy employee and a caring older sister out the front door later...and Steve found himself standing on the porch of Mike Wheeler’s house - the kids he and Y/N were supposed to be watching having locked them out, without their wallets or keys...or even a hint at what they were doing outside in the, now cool summer night...
“Great going Steve,” was all she said while staring at the closed door.
He whipped around on her and glared while crossing his arms.
“Wha-- me?! I don’t remember you helping with, I dunno...six dipshits shoving us out the damn house!”
“I didn’t think I needed to...Mr. Better Than Me...I was clearly wrong.” Y/N smirked.
Steve couldn’t even be fake mad for long. It ended with the pair laughing and shaking their heads, clutching their stomachs and asking for the kids to let them back in. Without an answer...Steve questioned what this was all about; remembering the boys giving him (crappy) advice on how to ask Y/N out. I mean...this is one way to force a guy between a rock and a hard place...
“Screw it, screw them, screw babysitting - screw this,” Harrington lamented. “No cars, but we got legs...wanna just go for a walk until our meddling kids decide to let their old folk back in?” He was going out on a limb, but...he couldn’t help it. Her presence was just so damn addicting...he wanted as much as he could get without having to pay the price of embarrassment just yet.
“Sure, Steve, sure.” with a gentle smile and a giggle...that was all the hype he needed to take her hand and pull her from the stoop.
“Well, m’lady - then let me lead the way.”
---
Hm...I can’t help but want more to this....partttttt 3 anyone? >.<
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