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cherrrydragon · 1 year ago

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOUR: WAY DOWN WE GO

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SUMMARY ↳ You make some major moves, risky major moves. “Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.” You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away. “I’m just better.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (attempted) bullying, you get a sword held at your neck (wonder whose fault that is), cursing wc: 6.5k

The next school day goes by in a blur of lectures you don’t pay attention to. The only thing on your mind is patrol and the looming task of getting back home.

Lunch is a brief respite from the busyness of the day. You sit alone to better hear your thoughts. You’ve long gotten used to your super hearing, but it’s still as loud as ever. The lunch is pretty good today, yet no match for your increased metabolism. You’re just grateful that your suit protects you from a lot. Super healing isn’t that useful when you’ve got no energy to heal with.

Your pencil moves in repeated strokes, steady. You’ve been putting your sketchbook to good use.

You hear footsteps approaching, and raise your head casually. You can’t help but widen your eyes when you see Damian walking to you.

He puts his tray down and sits, perfect posture and all. His eyes scan your drawings. “What is it?”

You blink, looking down at your drawings too. “It’s a… personal project.” You give your best winning smile. “I like to make things.”

You subtly turn the page so the one with all the formulas and equations is hidden away, only allowing Damian to see the sketches of what your new and improved nanite chamber would look like. “You’re hurting my feelings. What can I do to gain your trust?” It’s no subtle attempt to direct his attention from your drawings.

“Unnecessary. Forget about yesterday, it is in the past,” Damian says. Yeah, right. It’s obvious he’s playing nice in an attempt to lower your guard, but whatever. You can play along.

You pat his shoulder, smiling at his grimace. “You’re really bad at making friends. Don’t worry about it, first impressions aren’t everything.”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “So, now that we’re friends, tell me about yourself.”

“We are not friends.”

“We’re not enemies either.”

“That does not equate to us being friends,” he growls.

“But don’t you wanna know about me?” You lean in close. “Y’know, ‘cause you’re–” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Robin?”

He shoves you away, somehow in a gentlemanly manner. “Do not joke about that.”

You cackle. “I will tell you something about me in exchange for something about you.” At his glare you say, “it’s the fair thing to do.”

“I’ll go first.” You sit up straight. “I work part-time at Carrie’s Cafe, I live in East End and I occasionally dabble in photography.” Where you work and live is something he no doubt knows already, and photography is a useless fact. Still, he can’t admit that.

You gesture at him. “Your turn.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with animals. I have various pets.”

“What kind of pets?”

“The rules of our deal do not require me to elaborate further.”

You roll your eyes. “The rules of conversation do.”

“I hardly want to converse with you.” God, you forgot how much of a brat Damian is. It’s easier to find it funny when you’re not the subject of his brat-ness. He can tell you’re getting a bit irked, if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

You survey your surroundings. People are looking at the two of you. You figure you must be a sight. The elusive heir of Bruce Wayne and the new kid. There’s a group of girls staring at you spitefully.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you speak to Damian, not taking your eyes off the girls. “Me, awesome mysterious super hot new kid, and you.” You don’t gas up Damian, but you figure he’s better off without a bigger ego.

Damian looks to where you're staring, his lips turning in thinly veiled disgust. “We are not a pair.” The girls giggle behind their hands and flutter their eyelashes at him. He looks away. You gasp as you are hit with an idea.

“I just had the best idea ever.” Pointedly ignoring his hum of doubt, you continue, “we are in the perfect set-up for a fake-dating situation. You, the popular bad boy who wants nothing to do with girls, and me, the one person who will never fall in love with you. We agree to fake-date to get the girls off your back, but we end up falling in love and we kiss in the rain–” you pause, staring at his face. It’s full of disgust, and you burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you’re too easy, my friend.”

Your hearing picks up on stomping from across the cafeteria. The leader of the girl's little posse is making her way over to you. She’s real pretty, you’ll give her that. She’s forgone the vest of her uniform to show off her slightly unbuttoned top. You’re not ashamed to admit you are looking hard .

“Damian!” She squeals, rounding up to your table. She ignores the seats and sits on the table itself. “Are they bothering you? I can see that you’re uncomfortable.”

You lean back and cross your arms, waiting to see what Damian will do. You would’ve thought he would be more of a recluse, liked by nobody. Perhaps this older Damian has more charm than the ones you’ve read about. Or maybe only the girls of the school like him.

Damian sends you a look that says do not leave me to the vultures.

You raise your eyebrows as if to say not friends, remember? This has nothing to do with me.

“Victoria,” Damian greets. Victoria’s face lights up in satisfaction at the fact he knows her name. Oof, girl, have some standards. “I am fine. You need not concern yourself.”

“Oh, but I can see it on your face, Damian. You don’t have to save face for someone like them ,” Victoria looks you up and down. There’s no doubt she means to isolate you because you’re not a rich heir like the rest of them.

Damian’s about to speak up (in your defense? You doubt it) when you lean forward, discreetly pulling down your own collar. “Victoria, was it? Can I call you Vicky? Where’d you get your nails done?”

Victoria brings her hands to her chest, rubbing her fingers over her nails. “Oh– um. My… cousin. My cousin does nails as a hobby.” Her eyes are flickering from your face to your chest. You reach forward and grab her hand delicately, humming as you look at her nails. “These look really good. How much were they?”

Your eyes are boring into hers as you await her answer. Her mouth is slightly agape. Her hand twitches in your grasp as you let a breath fall onto it. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finds herself. “It-It surely costs more than you can afford.” She yanks her hand back and it falls to her side. She looks at Damian before looking back at you, and turns around and walks off without another word.

A grin graces your face, satisfied with your results. Looking at Damian, you raise your brow in question. “Well? How’d I do?”

Damian is staring at you, like he is truly seeing you for the first time. He blinks and shakes himself out of whatever revelry he’s in (you hope you haven’t given too much away…) and answers you. “It’s no easy feat repelling Victoria. I commend you.”

“Is that a compliment? Oh my God, have I thawed your frozen heart, Elsa?” The bell rings and he walks away before you can say more.

You find out Victoria's in your ballet class. You feel her eyes on you the whole period.

You practice figure drawing in art. You ignore Damian’s stare on you the whole period.

It’s a cool night in Gotham. You’ve defended some homeless people being harassed, helped someone's cat out of a tree (you didn’t know that could actually happen) and helped an old lady home safely. It’s a pretty quiet night for Gotham, all things considered. The city moves on in spite of you, a maze of crime and corruption, but also of people worth saving.

You can’t help yourself and snap a couple of photos, for your eyes only. Anything that’ll make you feel like back home is good in your books.

watching behind you

You stand, straightening your shoulders. You’re sure the Bats know about your existence. Whoever it is, you’ll give them a scare first.

You lift your foot, letting it dangle off the ledge of the building. Their footsteps hasten to get to you. Gravity pulls you down. They’re running to you now. You spread your arms and fall.

A figure clad in black and red grasps the ledge, looking over, grappling hook in hand. They’re met with you, casually standing on the side of the building, defying gravity. “Looking for me?”

Robin makes room for you as you climb back up, crouching on the ledge once more. You stick out your hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of you guys. Big fan.”

Robin takes out his sword and holds it to your neck in one swift movement. “Tough crowd,” you mutter, clicking your tongue.

“Who are you and what business do you have in Gotham.” Straight to the point as always, Damian.

“My name is Spinnerette, nice to meet you!” You grab his hand before he can tug it out of your reach, shaking it. “And I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I’m in the saving people business, like you guys! That’s my business.”

“Children should not run around pretending to fight crime because they think it’s cool.”\

You huff. “Okay, one , the first robin was like, five. Two , how old do you think I am? Three , dude, I’ve been doing this for years.”

He tuts. “Is that right? How come I’ve never heard of you?”

You shrug. “I’m not from around here.” You’re not lying, that’s for sure.

The sword doesn’t move from your neck, and you sigh. Grabbing the sword makes an audible clink as it meets the metal of your suit. You slowly move it away from your neck, taking note of how Robin tries to meet your strength head-on, and failing to do so. Languidly moving, you invade his personal space. You throw your arms over his shoulders, making him sway side to side with you.

“You’re hurting my feelings, Rob,” you hum. You see his eyes squint through his mask. Dragging a claw down his cheek, you’re aware that you are completely indulging yourself right now. You should’ve swung away as soon as your senses alerted you to his presence.

Pretender, your brain whispers to you.

You will the thought away. “You know, some species of spiders eat birds,” you flirt.

“You have abhorrent ideas of flirting.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m rusty.”

“Some species also eat their mates,” he flirts back. Oh?

You grin, feral and hidden. “Ohoh, considering yourself my mate already, birdie?” His hands grasp your hips, pulling you closer. Chest to chest with him, you lean in, whispering “you like the idea of me eating you? Perv.”

“You jump to conclusions.” His cheek is against yours.

“Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”

You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.”

You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away.

“I’m just better.”

“They call themselves Spinnerette,” is what Damian says as he enters the Batcave.

Bruce only sighs. He really shouldn’t be so surprised Damian went after the new meta. He turns around in his chair, facing Damian. He makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Their suit is made of some kind of metal. It is high-grade, something I’m not familiar with. The eyes of their suit react, like they mimic their expression. They can stick to walls and webs come out from a device on their wrist. They are intelligent and were able to divert my intentions to put a tracker on them,” Damian huffs.

He moves to stand next to his father. “They say they have been acting as a vigilante for years. They are also not native to Gotham.”

Bruce nods, “that narrows it down a little.”

“They were insulted by my insinuation that they were a child, so I assume they are at least in high school.”

Bruce types all the information in the Batcomputer, fingers flying across the keyboard. The results narrow down. Several databases appear on screen.

“If they are your age they could very well attend the Academy,” Bruce hums, hand over his mouth in thought.

“I have someone in mind already, but I will be sure to evaluate all my peers.”

Bruce smiles. “I’m surprised to hear you call them your peers.”

Damian’s lips twitch, walking out of the cave without further word.

You’ve decided to put plans for the nanite chamber on hold for now in exchange for a far, more efficient use of your time. The battery will last you, you’re just being paranoid.

You’re going to pull a Tony Stark and create a new element.

Technically you’re just going to use the blueprints Tony put in your suit (thank you tony, we all say in unison) and follow them, but in this universe badassium isn’t a thing.

A clean and powerful energy source, to power your way back home and for the world to use. You know what they say about leaving things better than when you found it.

You’ve changed your plans for one main reason; when Tony Stark made his new element, he also made a particle accelerator.

It starts in your engineering class. You swipe as much material as you can, stuffing it into your backpack. Tony’s makeshift build took up his whole lab, and the one you found that landed you here was huge, so you’ll grab as much as you can.

Next is finding a place to work. Your apartment is a no-go, so you spend time off patrol to look for places. An abandoned warehouse could work in theory, but how many times has a villain used one for their operations? You’ll go without bumping into the Joker, thank you.

The problem is that you don’t know this city, so you make an impulsive decision. During classes, you spend time building a mini robot that will infiltrate and access the Batcomputer. You know Wayne Manor is equipped with state-of-the-art security, from reinforced structures to advanced alarm systems. It is very likely your little buddy will not make it out, but Karen only needs enough time to upload to the computer.

You spend your programming class calibrating Karen into W.E.B.B.E.R. (Karen comes up with the acronym, it stands for Wireless Enabled Bionic Bot for Exploration and Reconnaissance) instead of doing the assignment. You can easily do it later. If Damian notices how in your mind you’ve been lately, he doesn’t say anything. WEBBER is finished in three days. Now it’s up to you to get it past Wayne Manor's defenses and into the batcave.

You sit pondering on a rooftop during patrol. Damian is a hesitant option. You’re are certain he’ll notice if you stick a little spider robot on him. Red Hood probably doesn’t visit very often, for obvious reasons. You might be able to sneak it past Nightwing, but there aren't many places on that skin-tight suit for WEB to hide. Orphan is a hard no, nothing gets past Cassandra Cain. You groan into your hands. WEB’s little feet pat your mask.

“Perhaps it would be easier to infiltrate myself,” Karen suggests.

“There’s no way to get into the cave without authorized access, and that's if WEB isn’t somehow destroyed as soon as it hits the property’s soil,” you sigh. “You could override its systems to get inside, but that’ll just put everyone on high alert.”

“Then perhaps we approach their civilian identities.” Karen pulls up security footage of a cafe that none other than Tim Drake likes to frequent. It’ll be risky, since Drake’s got a damn good keen eye. However, you’ll bank on the fact that that guy does not get as much sleep as he should, thus making him less aware.

“Thanks, K.” You hardly sleep that night.

You spend the weekend lingering at the mentioned cafe. After some hard thought, you’ve forgone a disguise. He’ll notice if you’re trying to hide your features, so you just have to hope and pray that you become another blurred face he sees.

“He’s walking your way, [Name].”

You take a deep breath as WEBBER crawls onto your shoulder. He’s wearing layers, so WEB will have an easier time staying hidden. The robot is light, you made sure. You walk towards him, keeping your gaze forward. If this doesn’t work, you’ll figure something out. You just… really hope it doesn’t come down to that.

As you get closer, you side-step out of his way and allow your shoulder to pass his, not touching, but almost. WEBBER hops onto him and scuttles into his breast pocket.

“I will make sure I am not seen.”

“I trust you, Karen.”

Tim Drake does not notice the little spider hidden in his clothes. He returns to Wayne Manor none the wiser. WEBBER clings to his back as he makes his way down to the Batcave. You watch through the little camera from your laptop. Your jaw drops.

Literally every Bat and Bird, former or current, is down there. Even Oracle herself is there. They’re all in civvies, so you suspect they’re just hanging out and chose the goddamn Batcave to do so.

“Just…” you sigh, already done with your spidey luck, “...keep going, K.”

WEBBER hops down from Tim’s back, scrambling across the floor. The mic you impulsively added picks up on conversation.

“I think you’re looking a little too hard into things, man.” It’s Duke Thomas.

“They just seem like the main character trying to find their way into the world. Rich dad sends his kid into adulthood all alone. They struggle to fit in under the guise that they have less money than their peers. ‘Woe is me’ type of stuff, y’know?” Stephanie Brown.

There’s a scoff. “They hold too much intelligence to have that kind of persona. They are able to direct less than welcome attention with careful words and persuasion. They do not pay attention in class, yet their grades are pristine. I’ve seen their drawings in their sketchbook when they are not looking, it’s filled with equations and ideas for ‘personal projects’.”

Is he talking about… you? That sneaky bastard, when did he peek at your notes!? Have you been that distracted at school?

“It says that their dad’s an inventor,” comes Barbara’s voice. She’s on the Batcomputer, WEBBER has been waiting for when she turns around or gets off to make its move. “They obviously get it from him, then. What, you think they’re building a world-ending weapon or something?”

“I think,” he grits out, “that they are a suspicious person, appearing at the same time our new spider friend did.”

Bruce hums. “It’s plausible.”

Goddammit.

Barbara turns around, and WEB scuttles around the back of the Batcomputer. “If they are Spinnerette, It’s not like they’re performing any unwelcome actions. They’re just doing what the rest of us do.”

“Yeah,” comes Dick Grayson, “Bruce is only irked ‘cause he hasn’t gotten the chance to adopt them yet.” A round of chuckles is heard.

WEBBER plugs into the Batcomputer, and an alert pops onto the screen immediately. Barbara whips around, fingers flying onto the keyboard.

“Someone’s hacking into the Batcomputer.” Her words put everyone in the room at attention.

“Trace it,” growls Bruce. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to switch into his Batman mode like that.

Barbara throws up countless defenses, but Karen is an AI made by Tony freakin’ Stark , and you are his protégé.

“They’re bypassing all my shields, they’re getting in!” Barbara growls.

Tim and Bruce race to begin helping her, but your superspeed allows you to type faster than all three geniuses.

They watch as files are opened and downloaded into Karen’s system as she uploads herself. Info about the city, criminals and heroes alike are getting into ‘enemy’ hands before they’re very eyes.

“I can’t track them,” grits Barbara.

The room is silent as Karen finishes her job. Gotham’s protectors are greeted with a single pop-up.

“THANK YOU.”

It taunts them. Bruce slams a hand onto the table. “They have everything .”

“Time to get the hell out of dodge, K.”

WEBBER unplugs from the Batcomputer and scuttles to a hiding spot.

“How is this possible? They were able to dodge and counter all of my firewalls like it was nothing. B, what do we do?” Barbara runs a hand through her hair, stressed. It seems like whenever she visits she can never catch a break.

“Keep trying to find their trace, we’ll find them eventually.” Bruce turns around to see his kiddos standing straight, ready for orders. He looks at Damian.

“Do you think they have the capacity to do this?” He’s talking about you.

“They have a computer programming class. I will observe them to see if it’s possible,” vows Damian. You’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I’ll ask Selina to keep an eye on them. I owe her a favor.” A few faces twist in disgust at what exactly Selina could have done for him to owe her.

“Suit up, be extra vigilant today. They may try to enact whatever plans they have.”

Nodding, they scurry to change into their suits. WEBBER hitches a ride on Tim again as he exits the cave. The robot hops off as soon as he leaves the manor's grounds. That’s your cue to suit up.

You quickly hop across rooftops and swing to WEBBERs location. Arriving at its location, you cradle the bot gently in your hands, running a finger across its back. “Good job, Karen.”

“There are many old tunnels from previous subways, they may lead to your new lab. I’ve also left a backdoor should we ever need to access their database again.”

You nod, webbing a nearby building to swing away. The city passes under you, bright lights from cars blurring together. You perform flips and twirls, you’re in a pretty good mood, all things considered. People point at you in recognition as you rush by. The people of Gotham are becoming familiar with their new friendly neighborhood spider.

You hop down into the old tunnel. It’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Looking around, you see that the station has not seen life in ages. Footsteps echo as you start down the tracks. The station you’re in right now is accessible through a hole, so hopefully you can find one that is completely caved in.

You hope the team doesn't miss you too terribly. You wonder if you’re even being looked for, and then immediately shake the thought away. You are being looked for. You’re certain that Tony and Miguel are butting heads right now about how to best find you.

The tracks end with a bunch of rocks collapsed onto them. It takes minimal effort to move them out of the way, you just hope you don’t accidentally cause a mini rockslide, or something. You side step the pile, entering the large area of the abandoned station. The walls are littered with aged graffiti. The stairs that normally would lead out are collapsed in. There’s vegetation growing about, so you’ll probably get them something to drink in order to not invoke Poison Ivy’s wrath.

“I believe this will make quite the suitable hideout,” chimes Karen.

She’s right. With some decorating this could be a real cozy place. “A little Spider Den,” you whisper. Your new lab.

When you got home after finding the Den, you got rid of the monstrosity of cables from your gritty suit charger. If Selina Kyle is going to be poking around your apartment (because she’ll definitely do it while you’re gone) you want to appear as a normal person. You leave sketches of throwaway inventions, notes for class and random homework around the place.

May pipes up when she sees you leaving for work, “you look happy.”

You pause, thinking of your answer. “I… found what I was looking for.” It’s vague, but true.

“Since you’ve come here, you’ve always looked troubled,” hums May. “But lately you seem to be finding stable ground.”

You smile and nod, saying nothing as you walk out.

Sam greets you as you walk in. “How was your first week, scholar?”

You groan dramatically, “it’s terrible, save me oh great Sam,” you exaggerate. Sam opens their arms and you fall into them. “There, there,” they coo. “Was it that bad for real?”

“No.” Your voice is muffled in their arms. “I’m just really… bored.”

Sam bursts out laughing. “The little genius baby is stuck with their less than genius peers!” Sam’s voice has drawn out Carrie and Gar.

“Look who’s back! Thank God, kid. This place was falling apart without you,” Carrie says, grinning.

Gar crosses his arms. “Find your ‘rich future spouse’ yet?”

You chuckle, “not yet.”

The pair go off to get the cafe ready for opening, and you're still in Sam’s arms.

“I ever tell you about my own Sam back home?” You’re not sure why you’ve spoken up.

Sam raises a brow. “Don’t think so. You trying to share with the class now?”

Inside the dimly lit workshop at the Tower, you tinker away at Redwing as Sam stands over your shoulder.

“You’re hurting him.”

“He is fine, you big baby. I know what I’m doing.”

It amuses you how much Sam sees Redwing as a living thing. You’re told not to encourage it, but what’s the harm?

“The chip is just a little fried,” you say, angling so that Sam can see. “It’s an easy fix.”

Sam lays a hand on his chest, sighing in relief. “Thought we were gonna have to put him down.” You snort at his dramatics.

The workshop falls into silence as you tinker away. “What made you come up with Redwing?” you say, never one for quiet.

Sam’s face lights up. “I needed something that could give me an edge in the field without being too bulky. A mix of coolness and necessity, you know?” He pokes Redwings’ ‘nose’. “Plus, there’s that winning personality.”

“Personality, huh?” You think of Karen.

“Yeah, Redwings not a tool, he’s a partner.” There’s fondness in Sam’s voice. “He scouts, gathers intel, and watches my back.”

You hum in thought, realizing how similar Redwing and Karen are. “Sounds like the two of you are really close.”

“I like to think so.” The workshop is filled with chatter as the two of you work away the hours.

“Maybe another time,” you mutter, face squished into Sam’s chest. Sam drops the subject.

It’s another slow day at the cafe. You get that inkling that someone is watching you, but you see nobody. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian is spying on you from the next building over. At least the cafe plays good music over the speakers. You hum the lyrics as you clean the countertops.

The door chimes as someone walks in “Welcome to Carrie’s, how can I help you?”

“Hey, you.”

You look up, meeting the very blue eyes of one Jonathan Kent. You can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. “Hey, you!” you echo, smiling.

Jon brightens up at your smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you hum. “I’m really good.” You are. Once night time hits, you’ll go to the Den and finally start on your plans to recreate Tony’s badassium.

“In fact, I feel so good that I’m gonna ask you this; wanna go hang out at my place after I get off?” One might say you’re indulging yourself. You say you’re trying to seems as un-suspicious to Jon as possible. When Damian finds out you have ties to him, he’ll ask Jon everything he knows about you, and possibly even ask him to survey you. Hopefully your front as a regular ole highschooler keeps him from figuring you out.

Jon blinks in surprise, stuttering, “w-well, sure. Yeah. Totally, why not? Just…” he pauses, “...I still don’t know your name.”

You smile. “Shoot, yeah. Sorry about that.” You straighten your posture, sticking out a hand. “I’m [Name]. [Name] Stark.”

You see the little twitch of his brow. Ah, so Damian has already told him about you.

“Nice to meet you, [Name]. I’m Jonathan Kent. Keep calling me Jon, though,” Jon says, shaking your hand.

You pull away. “So, a small vanilla latte for you, not-stranger?”

“You remember,” he chuckles. You nod. You feel his eyes on you as you make his drink.

“So,” you say as you hand him the cup. “I get off at five, see you then?” you feign shyness.

He nods rapidly. “See you at five.”

You count down the minutes until you get off from work. You swear you see some blue blurs rush by in the sky and wonder if it’s Superboy. Wonder if this Batman is more lenient to others operating in Gotham.

The sun has only just begun its descent into the Earth when you step outside. Your bag is thrown over your shoulder. You look around, Jon isn’t there. You doubt he’s the type to bail, so you lean against the front of the building. You busy yourself with some more Crossy Road to pass the time. Five minutes pass, when you sigh. Maybe you were too hasty.

“[Name]!”

You turn, seeing Jon running to you. His appearance is ruffled, his shirt is inside out and his hair is all over the place. He was definitely Superboying around.

“Did you run all the way here?” you offer as an explanation for his appearance.

He claims it. “Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in some stuff.”

You can’t help yourself, and reach up to tame some of his hair. “Looks like you ran through a high powered fan, or something.”

He mindlessly tilts his head to let you do as you please, looking at you. You don’t dare meet his gaze. “Ok,” you say when you’re satisfied with his hair. “Let’s go.”

He offers his arm and you take it. “I wouldn’t think a Gothamite would tell me where they live on our second meeting,” he says.

“They probably wouldn’t,” you hum. “I’m not originally from Gotham, though.”

He blinks. “You’re not? I thought you were.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” It means you’ve done a good job at fitting it. “But no, I’m actually from Queens. New York.”

He hums. “I thought the accent was a little different.”

May greets you as you walk in, widening her eyes when she sees Jon. You ignore her wiggling brows as the two of you make your way up. Entering your apartment, nothing looks out of place, but your trained eye can see the way your papers have shifted from their original position. So Selina Kyle did end up snooping while you were gone.

“This is me,” you say, arms gesturing to the apartment. Nari rounds the corner, meowing for your attention. “And this,” you lift Nari into your arms, “is Nari.”

Jon pets Nari between his ears. “Hi, Nari.”

You put Nari in his arms, ignoring his small protests. Nari looks very content in Jon’s big arms. You snap a picture for yourself.

“My friend is actually a big fan of animals,” hums Jon, looking down at Nari.

“Yeah?” He’s talking about Damian. “The one that goes to GA?”

He nods. “His name is Damian. Damian Wayne. Have you met him?” His eyes bear into yours, switching into that hero interrogation mode. You wonder just how much Damian has told him.

“Yeah, I got a couple of classes with him.” You sit down on your couch, leaning back. “He’s got a real unique persona.” Jon chuckles in agreement, sitting down next to you. “How’d you become friends with a guy like that?”

“Our dads know each other.” Right.

“Well, he’s pretty cute. That’s all I got to say about him,” you say, looking over and snorting at Jon’s expression. His eyes are widened, no doubt wondering if he should leave out the fact that you just said that when he relays the info to Damian later.

“Well, I got some popcorn and some movies on my laptop. You down?” Jon nods.

You spend a couple hours sitting and chatting as you watch a couple of horror movies. Jon acted brave, but you could tell he was just a tiny bit freaked out.

Now, you swing to your new hideout, now equipped with cute fairy lights and cobweb hammocks. It wasn’t hard to get power working in the place, just tedious. Seriously, the amount of rubble you had to clear was atrocious.

You pull up the blueprints on a digital interface via your suit. “Alright, Karen. Let’s get to work."

When Miguel got an alert that you had been requesting assistance, he straightened up immediately. He had been running regular people errands, so he had to quickly stop by the HQ to suit up and get ready. From there he found out you had also contacted Peni, he started rushing. The other Spiderlings had caught wind of this, and demanded to tag along. Miguel and the kids entered a portal to your universe, and were immediately met with the large, inactive particle accelerator.

He hears Miles take a deep breath. It’s just like the one from his universe. You’re nowhere to be seen.

Lyla pops up next to him. “There’s been recent activity here. It was activated two times.”

“Two?” Miguel mutters.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it much, when some of the goddamn Avengers come barreling in. Iron Man, The Hulk (it’s just Bruce Banner right now, though) and Black Widow stand at the ready, looking at Miguel and the gang in apprehension.

“Oh, you’re my kids' little spider friends, right?” Tony’s voice is dry, feigning friendliness as if he isn’t pointing at them, ready to blast.

“We got an alert signal from [Name]’s suit,” Bruce explains, ignoring Tony’s betrayed stare.

“So did we,” says Hobie, analyzing the three.

Lyla tuts. “I’m not picking up their watch's signal.”

“[Name]’s tracker went offline, too.”

Miguel’s eyes scan his surroundings, settling on a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Broken watch pieces. He hears Pav and Gwen gasp as he kneels by it. “It’s their watch,” he explains to the Avengers, “the thing that allows them to multiversal travel.”

“Why is it broken.” Black Widow doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Because someone must have broken it,” concludes Miguel. He straightens. “The watches are strong, it wasn’t an accident. Someone was here, with [Name].”

“Well now there’s nobody here, and [Name] is off the radar so where are they? ” growls Tony.

“The only plausible answer is that they’re in another universe.” Miguel looks at the particle accelerator. “Without a watch.”

The kids look sick to their stomachs. “Can’t we trace the signal from the accelerator?” questions Peni.

“Normally, I could,” chimes Lyla. “But… I can’t.”

“ Why not?” Miles questions.

“Okay, so you know that there are literally infinite universes out there. If each universe is a satellite and the watches, or the accelerator in this case, is a signal, then there’s only a certain ‘distance’ I can trace [Name]’s whereabouts.”

Gwen thinks she’s getting a headache. “So, what? She’s in a universe that’s ‘too far away’?”

Lyla nods. “In that sense, yes.”

“This is pointless,” huffs Tony, walking up to Miguel. “We are wasting time talking about technicalities, we should be looking for my kid.”

“Is there anyone you know who could’ve built this?” Miguel asks Tony.

“Nobody smart enough has it out that bad for [Name]. Unless it was another me or another [Name] there’s no one capable of doing this without someone noticing,” Tony pauses, looking at the spider variants before him.

Tony’s voice drops into a whisper, “could someone from another universe have done this?”

“If someone from another universe ended up in this one, why throw [Name] into a random one?” Bruce stresses. “They wouldn’t have any strife with Spinnerette.”

“Unless it’s a spidey villain.”

“What spidey villain is smart enough to do this? Doc Ock?”

“Maybe–”

Miguel interrupts, “it was activated twice, so one time was for [Name] entering it, and the other was for whoever broke their watch. They built this–” Miguel gestures to the giant machine, “–so they were obviously here for a while.”

“Only a fool would attempt a multiversal jump without certainty that they could get back home, so that means–”

“–they accidentally got stuck here,” finishes Tony, looking graver by the minute.

“For who knows how long,” hums Hobie, now in thought.

“Trying to get back home, they build a particle accelerator–”

“–clearly their work is cut out for them, otherwise they would have come up with a much smaller design–”

“–they meet [Name], who would see this and automatically assume they’re a threat.”

“[Name] would try to shut it down, and our mystery guy gets desperate, because [Name]’s the one thing standing between them and their way back home.”

“The particle accelerator is already activated. They see the watch, recognize it as a multiversal travel tool and smash it–”

“–so that [Name] can’t find them–”

“–because they throw [Name] into another universe.”

“They go back home to their universe scott-free.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure how Black Widow’s unhappy with the development.

“In other news, I’ve got the trace of the other person who used the accelerator!” Lyla sings.

Miguel’s face scrunches. “If we don’t know which universe [Name] is in, I really doubt they do.”

“I’d still like a word with them,” Black Widow crosses her arms.

“Maybe later, right now–” Miguel turns to the Spiderlings. “–we should head back to HQ. We’ll send out an alert, every spider will look for [Name] when they can. We’ll search every universe if we have to.”

“Great, what do we do?” Tony asks, gesturing to his comrades.

“Miguel turns back to them. “You said [Name]’s got a tracker in the suit, right?” Tony nods. “We’ll need something that can latch onto its signal as soon as a Spider enters an Earth, no matter how far away they are. Can you build something like that? You can use tech from other universes if you need to.”

Tony nods, resolute. “You better get my kid back.”

Miguel nods. “We will.” A portal opens, swallowing Miguel and the Spiderlings.

“FRI, get the workshop ready and notify the others of the situation,” says Tony, turning around and making his way out of the warehouse. Nat and Bruce follow. “I want Strange and Wanda on this immediately.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Tony mutters under his breath, “I’ll get my damn kid back, alright.”

notes: if you're female-identifying ur def vicky's gay awakening LOL

i'm not entirely sure is "badassium" is the canon name for tony's new element, i actually think i saw somewhere that it was the name fans gave it. either way "badassium" is what we rockin' with.

i hope my explanation as to why reader hasn't been found isn't too confusing. i didn't plan on having it kind of explained so soon but a group up spideys (who are all basically genius cuz they're SPIDERMAN) are bound to figure it out. also like that whole 'the spiders and the avenger' meeting scene was supposed to be in the last chapter but i forgot to add it LOL

also chatgpt came up with webbers acronym guys i am NOT smart enough for that.

damian: good job getting into their base of operations (apartment) now we can gather more info on them

jon, who just wanted to spend time w/ reader: oh yeah lol light work

#damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader #dc x reader

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imagineanime2022 · 8 months ago

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Hidden

Osamu Dazai X GN!Reader

Word Count: 1425

Requested: Anon

Request: Can you write dazai x reader who got injured but tries to hide it?

Dazai didn’t often care for other people. In fact they were often disposable pawns in his plans unless they were part of the ADA. You started off as the target of a mission, later becoming a member of the ADA due to your ability to track and follow people. Your ability allows you to mark up to 3 people to track and follow unnoticed, however you have to have seen the person before and marked them while they were in your sight.

Dazai didn’t think much of you at first, that is until you were ordered to track and follow him to make sure that he didn’t get into anything that he couldn’t handle. This led to you finding out about his previous profession.

You don’t know what tips Dazai off but he found out that you knew and you were minding your own business on your way home when he ambushed you “There you are.” He said as he fell into step next to you. “I’ve been in the same building as you all day Dazai.” You reminded him, rolling your eyes as you continued on your way home. “Mmm, never alone though.” He smirked as he watched you frown as if trying to figure something out. “Is there something that I can help you with?” You asked, turning off the main road towards your small apartment building. “Help me with?” Dazai repeated the question to himself before moving forward in a burst of speed pressing you to the wall behind you. “Actually there is something that you can help me with.” “What’s that?” You asked, he would have been confused by your ability to brush off his actions, if he wasn’t sure that you had been sent by someone worse than him. “Who sent you to watch me?” He asked. “The boss.” You answered. “He wanted me to make sure that you didn’t get into anything that you couldn’t handle, I assume he was worried about your past coming back to haunt you.” “You expect me to believe that?” He asked. “I don’t, honestly I’m surprised that it took you so long to accuse me of being an enemy.” Dazai had the physical edge, he was bigger and stronger than you were, he had more experience than you did in fighting and in extension killing people so your only option was to answer all of his questions. “You don’t seem worried about it.” He informed you and you shrugged. “I’m not worried, honestly I’ve never put much stock in living.” You answered “not in the sense that I don’t value my life but more in the sense that I know how fragile it is and how infinitely stupid it is of me to think that I can stop it from breaking.” Dazai stopped, almost like something had opened up to him, something you had opened up to him, he stepped back away face cast down as his shoulders began to shake. Then a real and rich laugh pulled from his lips, he waved at you before turning and walking away leaving you confused.

The next morning he greeted you like an old friend and was with you any time that he could be, leaning over you, ruffling your hair, whispering in your ear or initiating some form of contact. It became so normal in the following years that none of the other members questioned it or knew how to explain it to the new additions even when it settled into a relationship.

While Dazai was forever looking for a way to exit stage left in the play of life, he was very aware of your ability to find danger without really looking. He never liked when you were on missions alone (which meant he didn’t like you going on missions) but never said anything because that would be hypocritical and he had no time to argue with you.

The true trouble rose with the addition of Atsushi who brought with him the Mafia interference, you were given the task of following Atsushi and reporting back when someone made a move for the bounty. Unfortunately the first time that it happened, they sent Akutagawa and he did not waste time, you realised that you needed to buy more time for them to get there, so despite the fact that you had no fighting skill you jumped into the fray after Atsushi, Niaomi and Junichiro were both knocked out. “You are?” Akutagawa asked as he looked over to where you landed. “Me… I’m just a friend.” You answered. “Mm.” He hummed as he knocked you away from Junichiro, your head and back knocking against the wall of the alley. “Damn.” You groaned, pushing yourself up from the floor. “I would say it’s impressive the beating that you can take but it seems that’s all you're good for.” Now he was looking down at you. “I’m good for a distraction.” You muttered pushing up onto your hands and knees as he frowned. “What?” He asked. “That’s enough Akutagawa.” Dazai spoke, everything seemed to freeze for a second before Akutagawa turned to the man that had spoken. “You're just as useless as the day I left you.” “Shut up!” Akutagawa lashed out at Dazai who immediately nullified his ability. “Are you okay?” He asked. “Yeah.” You answered pushing to your feet, it only took a few more taunting words from Dazai to get Akutagawa to leave, you helped him get the others back to the office, slinking off to tend to yourself.

You leant against the sink rolling your shoulders and trying to become familiar with the pain that coursed through your shoulders when you moved them, finally deciding that you were ready to face the rest of the day you walked out of the bathroom, coming face to face with Dazai. “Were you waiting for the-” “Are you okay?” He asked. “Yeah I already told you I’m fine.” You answered. “You're sure?” He asked. “Yes.” You answered. “Mmm.” He hummed, you walked past him and back towards the office, he watched you carefully and while he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary he was sure that there was something.

It was later on that day that you had to admit to the injury, Ranpo had come back to the office and he, like many of the other members, liked to hang off of you like a child and have you catch anything that he can’t. Today was no different “(Y/N)!” Ranpo yelled as he dove at you, luckily you were sitting so the impact of the jump didn’t affect you too much, just started off a dull ache in your shoulder. “Hey Ranpo, how was the case you were assigned to?” You asked. “Easy… They keep saying that they don’t need me but I don’t know what they would do without me.” Ranpo muttered thoughtfully as he unwrapped one of his many sweets. “What about you? What did you do?” “Got in a fight.” You answered. “But you can’t fight.” A look of disapproval took over his face as you shrugged, flinching but that went unnoticed by everyone except for Dazai who had been watching you closely. “Mmm, someone had to distract the threat and save the day.” You joked, he giggled with you and easily moved on. Dazai came over the moment that Ranpo changed his attention to someone else, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. “Where are we going?” Dazai didn’t answer, instead he pulled you back to the restroom of the office, guiding you in and locking the door. “Show me.” He ordered. “Show you?” You repeated letting confusion slip into your tone. “He hurt your shoulder didn’t he?” He asked. “It’s nothing, just a bruise.” You answered. “Did Yasano tell you that?” He asked. “I can see a bruise, Dazai.” You grumbled and he gestured for you to turn, you did as you were told and Dazai helped you gently move your arm out of the sleeve and lifted your shirt to show him your shoulder. His fingers gently run over it watching your reaction before nodding to himself. “We’re still going to Yasano.” He informed you. “For what?” You asked, turning to look at him and shoving your arm through the sleeve and regretting the action immediately. “For something for the pain.” He answered, pressing a kiss to your temple “at least do that.” “Fine… Fine.” You agreed leaning into him, he gave you a second before unlocking the door and leading you to the doctor.

Request Here!!

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai oneshot #osamu dazai imagine #osamu dazai #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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liwysz · 9 months ago

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Lestappen Masterlist!

Just got diagnosed as your soulmate, and it's incurable. I hope you understand that now we're more than enemies or friends, we're lovers.

Imagine if protagonists just died in the first scene

Max wished could go back in time, to the moment when they were just two dreamers talking about planets. The moment when the only certainty he had was that he and Charles would be together. -- With his last breath in that cabin surrounded by roso corsa red, Charles wished he could have another chance.

2. War of Hearts? I only see Enemies to Lovers

“I do pay attention,” Charles replied, his voice wavering slightly, but he refused to back down. “And you should be careful who you step on.” Max raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into an ironic, humorless smile. “Is that a threat?” he asked, stepping forward, his taller frame making his presence almost suffocating. For a second, Charles felt the urge to step back, but something inside him ignited. It wasn’t fear, but a fierce determination. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let someone like this boy he didn’t even know intimidate him in a place he had dreamed of being for so long. “It’s a warning,” Charles responded, his words now firm, his gaze locking onto the other boy’s, challenging him in return.

3. Are you okay Charles, why are you looking at me and my sweaty body?

Max and Charles were intimate by the FIA to do community work after the Singapore GP, but Charles couldn't stop staring at Max's sweaty body. The feelings only grow up from that.

4. Charles Le-cat in the clutches of affection

The silly cat boy Charles Leclerc receives all the affection possible from his rival, the human Max Verstappen

5. The winner takes it all, even the pretty boy

For the past three years, Charles Leclerc had never failed to come. In the first year, it was in Abu Dhabi, still somewhat hesitant, with trembling hands and heavy breaths, full of anger and wanting to unleash it on something. In the second, in Monza, he arrived breathless and almost furious, as if he hated the desire he felt. In the third, in Suzuka, there wasn’t as much hatred anymore, but there was still that burning, almost violent need.

Now, in Las Vegas, Max knew the pattern would repeat.

And right on time, as if their minds were in sync, a knock echoed on the door.

6. 8 days to fall in love with your rival

The rivalry between Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was the fiercest in the world of sim racing. Each commanded their own virtual empire, with legions of fans ready to defend them at any cost. Streams were veritable battlefields, full of provocations and questionable moves during multiplayer events, fueling the drama between the two even more. The intensity of this rivalry was what kept the sim racing community alive. Between Twitter barbs, live taunts, and edited clips full of sharp commentary, everyone knew that Charles and Max couldn’t even “breathe the same air” in the virtual world. For viewers, watching their interactions whenever they had the chance to play against each other was like watching fire and gasoline meet over and over again — explosive, chaotic, and impossible to ignore. All of this changed after a certain announcement appeared. or: my Lestappen Christmas fic project

F1 Masterlist | Meet me

#formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 au #fanfic #formula one #f1 one shot #fórmula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #formula one rpf #f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #f1 fic

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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago

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Through My Window. Pt.2

Day 17 of celebration marathon.

-♡Book!older!Percy Jackson x Fem!reader.

-£ this fic was very popular and I have been asked uncountable times to make a part two, some people will be disappointed but I hope I can please some!

-£ Part one.

-£ words: 1.7k

-£ warnings: angst, seeing your ex, crying, reader being rightfully upset, college reader & percy, reconnecting from the past, I had a hard time writing this, so poor writing.

You’d like to say you got over him.

That everything was placed in a box and forgotten and never thought of again. Tragically you couldn’t seem to get percy out of your thoughts. Late at night you’d see him fighting monsters, saw him running for his life, or the past moments you shared. But they were only dreams, and he wasn’t going to come back for you. The college life treated you well enough and even if you couldn’t get him out of your mind the new friends you made helped keep him out from time to time.

You could lied to yourself that the boys you spent time with at parties or your dorm didn’t make you feel special. But they weren’t him and you hated that. Percy was somewhere with someone like him— better for him then you and he was happier. He had it all while you stayed the same girl who longed to feel his love again, to see his smile and brush his hair.

You missed him. Everything about him was stuck in your mind like a constant playing movie on repeat. It was years you both knew each other, he was a friend before anything so your heart wanted him close again. Even though you knew it would sting to glance upon him once more.

Today you had extra time to yourself in between classes so you went off campus to get yourself something to eat. Thankfully the small shop you loved was empty and not overflowing with business. And it was a perfect day to eat outside and review your notes, so you did just that. Sitting underneath a tree at a bench and eating your lunch. It was peaceful. You liked the light breeze on your skin and rustling of the leaves in your ears made you smile.

“You’ve got something in your hair,” he chuckled and pulled out a leaf from your hair making you role you eyes. He smirked at your attitude and leans to press his lips to yours. And you couldn’t stay mad at him after that.

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

Suddenly the breeze made it easier for your spine to feel a shiver as you remembered the feeling of his hand on your cheek. It was like remembering a ghost of your past, making you cold and icy. The last words he ever said to you were him apologizing. It made your skin crawl, he was sorry? Time couldn’t heal you when all he said was “I’m sorry” like it was a simple fix for you. You weren’t enough for him, and you came to terms with that but he lied to you all that time, only to dump you before prom.

Now percy wasn’t happy with himself. He never wanted to leave you, he swore to be by your side even when odds weren’t on his favor and that’s exactly what he didn’t do. He left your side and broke your heart with something that wasn’t true. It was no secret that you were everything to him and he worshipped the ground you walked on. And that’s exactly why he had to leave you, you were his greatest weakness to his enemies. And the lie about annabeth made his head turn with regret and guilt.

But you brought it up and at the time it was a good coverup to make you hate him— which he was right. You did hate him and rightfully so. Each night he went to sleep with you in his mind, and then when he woke he was never left with your voice in his head. Percy knew you probably wouldn’t want him back but he’d never want anyone else. That doesn’t mean he would blame you for moving on, you deserved to be loved and he wanted you happy.

but that was all forgotten when he saw you now. just a perfect as ever.

“Excuse me,” His throat went dry as he approached closer to you. he should have kept walking, leaving you alone because he hurt you.

“Do you had to know anywhere around here that takes golden drachmas?” All the breath in his chest went away when you turned your head to look at him. He knew he missed you but he could cry on his knees right now upon seeing you again but reality reminded him quickly. Your eyes were shocked and wide like he was a monster of some sort only here to hurt you.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss and grab ahold of your notebook to ground yourself. Glancing around the place for any sign of anyone else, her for example. But you saw no sign of the blonde beauty anywhere.

“Honestly, I heard you moved here for college and hoped to run into you,” he spilled and walked closer with his hands sweating. “Which I now believe sounds crazy.” he gives you awkward smile which you don’t return, instead you get up from your seat and pick up your things in a rush. your books starts to fall and papers flying while you groan and try to catch everything. He wanted to help you but you held up your hand to stop him from coming closer.

“I told you,” once you had everything in your bag again you stomped your feet and glare at him, “I never want to see you again.”

Percy remembered those words like they had happened only moments ago. He also remembers the tears rolling down your eyes when you shouted at him to leave. He was haunted each day. What hurt him worse was how you stormed away from him leaving him like a sad puppy…exactly like he left you. But he wasn’t going to leave you thinking any longer that he would choose anyone over you.

“Wait,” he jogged behind you. he knew you heard him when you started to speed up to get away from him. “Please, Baby—” it’s been forever since he called you that and he knew his mistake as soon as he let them slip. You turned quickly with a fire in your eyes that could burn him down to ash with your hatred.

“You have no right to call me that!” Your voice echoes through the air as you point your finger at him. He stopped in his tracks just a few inches before you and his head hung in shame. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

“That’s what I’m here to see you, I never-”

“I don’t care for your reasons or apology— I want you to leave me alone.” And that was the one thing he couldn’t do. Not yet.

“Just give me a chance to explain why I left.” He pleads with begging eyes. You shake your head with no more control over your emotions to say no to him. Tears pool up in your eyes while trying to wave him away from you.

“You left me—even when you promised.” For the first time in a long time he got to feel you but not in the way he dreamed about, but by you hitting his chest. “You said you’d stay by my side no matter what. You said that I was enough.” Even after you continued to hit his chest you sobbed while he watched with tears of his own.

“You promised.” His arms wrapped around your trembling figure and pulled you close and you gave out in the fight and let him. You cried into his chest while he rubbed your back with no care for anything else but you.

“I never stopped loving you. I lied and I am forever sorry to be the cause of your pain but I had to, I’d rather you hate me then watch you die.” you breathe out and pull away from his chest and look at him. he could see the puzzled look at your face. “I lied about being in love with annabeth. I needed you to hate me so you wouldn’t be targeted and-”

“So you’re saying all of it— the constant feeling like I wasn’t enough…was all a lie?” he wanted to deny it but he couldn’t get anything out of his mouth.

Stepping back and throwing his arms off of you, “really? Now that,” you began to laugh and lean over with your hands wrapping around yourself. “is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard. I pictured her kiss you, you telling her that you love her- when it wasn’t happening?” it was a mix of crying and laughing now at yourself, even a hint of anger.

“Hunny..” he reached out for you again but you moved out of the way. you whip you eyes of tears and your cheeks with your smile still on your face. It was all too much for you to handle, seeing him again and the him telling you the truth. So your outburst may have seemed crazy but it was natural for your body to be overwhelmed.

“That’s why you came? Go get it off your conscience,” you tilt your head.

“No, I came to tell you the truth…to see you again, make sure you’re happy.” you could tell by his eyes that he meant all the words. A frown on his face and he looked over you like you’d change in seconds again.

“How could I have been happy without you? You’re a idiot,” you confess. again, there was not a day that has gone by without thinking of him. “Massive.” He agreed with you with his own smile creeping on his face. You missed him after everything he did.

“But if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you.” His hand grabbed yours slowly incase you wanted to pull away from him but you didn’t. you wrap your fingers around his, moving closer to him.

“You have a lot of making up to do.” it was a peaceful moment between you both as you smile together.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him back. Maybe you should have forgive him on the spot. But you knew that he was met to be in your life or he wouldn’t be here now. Slipping through your window with a wide smile into your dorm room and waiting for a hello kiss from you. And he would continue to come to your window until college was over.

“Someones going to catch you coming through my window.”

taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs

#percy jackson x you #older percy jackson #older percy Jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader #book percy jackson #book percy jackson x reader #percy jackson angst #angst

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vampwritesstuff · 11 months ago

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Forgotten Melodies

Chapter 5 - I Fucking Hate Stairs

Pairing - Kim Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Genre - smau, post college au, non idol au, fluff, angst, ex friends to friends, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, slowburn

Moving back to Seoul after studying abroad in the States, Y/n couldn’t decide if fate wanted to punch her in the gut or give her a warm hug after she finds herself reconnecting with an old group of friends by pure chance. The only thing is, she didn’t leave on good terms with one of them.

a/n Idk how I’ve had the motivation to be writing so much lately but hey, it’s a good thing for you guys because that means more updates, also I was playing Oasis by EXO on repeat while making this chapter, i don’t even stan them but I need that song injected into my veins 😩 also this chapter isn’t proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy the chapter!!

Hongjoong had stared at the group chat for at least an hour the previous night. Meticulously studying the photo of you and Wooyoung that San had sent of the two of you pillow fighting. You looked a lot more different than he remembered, hell you even acted differently from the way San had described the interaction, but of course he only remembered the eighteen year old version of you. A quiet and soft spoken girl who somehow was unfortunate enough to befriend Wooyoung and be dragged into his crazy antics, and that consequently led to you making friends with San, and eventually the other boys and Hongjoong himself.

Hongjoong dragged a hand over his face while groaning, tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator took him to the floor that Wooyoung and San’s apartment was on. Hongjoong was tired, not only had his recent clients been a total nightmare to deal with but he’d been in a creative slump for any of his personal projects, and the knowledge that you were back in Seoul and had already reconnected with his friends was not helping soothe his already exhausted and anxious mind. Hongjoong knew you hated him, and it made him nervous to think about how you’d react to seeing him again. He felt guilty for how he handled things back in high school, and when he had finally built the courage to apologize to you, he learned that you had packed up and left for America, which stung if he was being honest. But he couldn’t blame you, he knew that you had always wanted to go to an American university.

The ding of the elevator arriving on the 6th floor broke Hongjoong from his thoughts and slowly he began towards his friends’ apartment. He knocked a few times on the door, slightly confused when the door swung open and a frantic Wooyoung cowered behind him and used him as a human shield. “Wooyoung what are you-” Hongjoong’s question was drowned out by the sound of a feminine voice yelling his friend’s name from inside the apartment. “Jung Wooyoung get your ass back here!” Hongjoong looked forward just in time to see you turn the corner of the entryway looking absolutely pissed as you held a hoodie in your hands.

Hongjoong stood frozen, just as you stopped in your tracks when you realized who Wooyoung was hiding behind. Hongjoong was taken aback by how much you truly did change, the picture San had sent in the group chat didn’t do you any justice. Just as he went to speak, you beat him to it, “I’ve gotta go, I have important shit to do.” You announced, which caused Wooyoung to release his death grip on Hongjoong and whine, “But you just got here.”

“I only came by for my hoodie, you already knew I wasn’t staying for long.” You chided him, completely ignoring Hongjoong’s presence. He could tell though that it was taking a lot of self restraint to do so, if the tension in your jaw, crossed arms and balled fists were any indication to your displeasure of Hongjoong being within feet of you. Hongjoong wanted to say something, anything to have you acknowledge him but once he broke himself from his stupor, you were already walking down the hallway, forgoing the convenience of the elevator and taking the stairs.

“Well that was weird, anyway, come on in hyung. You’re here for those packages right? San showed me where they were before he left this morning.” Wooyoung spoke as he pulled Hongjoong into the apartment.

You were pissed. Pissed because how the hell had you forgotten that Hongjoong was still their friend and at some point you would have been face to face with him? Pissed because of the way you couldn’t look him in the eyes, especially when there was so much you wanted to say to him. Years of pent up anger towards him resurfaced the moment you saw him in the doorway of Wooyoung’s apartment.

You stopped in the stairwell for a moment, taking a moment to catch your breath as you had practically sprinted down the stairs in order to get away from Hongjoong as quickly as possible, “I fucking hate stairs,” you grumbled to yourself, as you exited onto a random floor and took the elevator the rest of the way down. You took the time to calm down and refocus, seeing Hongjoong again felt like having a bucket of ice water poured all over you.

Was it childish to have reacted like that and run off? Possibly, but for the time being you could care less. He wasn’t your priority at the moment, and you could simmer in your anger towards him at a later time. You just wanted to go visit your mom and finally get some groceries in your apartment. As much as you loved take out, your wallet and stomach were begging for something else. Grocery shopping and a visit to the hospital would be a great way to get your mind off of things.

Back in Wooyoung’s apartment, Hongjoong was being interrogated by his younger friend. “So you and Y/n seriously never made up?” The black haired male asked, a deadpan expression on his face. “No, Wooyoung, like I said, I never got the chance to set things straight with her.” Hongjoong groaned as he massaged his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Well damn, I mean, I know everything that happened was all just a huge misunderstanding between the two of you, but I didn’t think it had affected her so much that she would give you the cold shoulder as soon as she saw you.” Wooyoung said, and Hongjoong just closed his eyes and sighed.

“I get why she’s upset though, from her perspective you didn’t try to salvage your friendship at all and when you did you were too late.” Wooyoung empathized with you, knowing that if he were in the same situation, he’d probably react the same way. Hongjoong hated how his friend was right, Hongjoong’s priorities in high school were skewed and it cost him a valuable friendship with you. He thought he would’ve had more time to apologize.

“Oh! You know what, now that she’s back, you can start trying to mend things with her!” Wooyoung suggested excitedly, “I don’t know if you saw how she reacted to seeing me, Wooyoung, since you were busy cowering behind me, but there is no way in hell she’s going to let me get that close to her again.” Hongjoong rationalized, or maybe he was making excuses. Yeah, he was making excuses because seeing you and how much you changed had thrown him for a loop. He hadn’t seen you since high school and seeing you in Wooyoung and San’s apartment, the polar opposite of what you were like back then, gave him cold feet.

Hongjoong watched as Wooyoung rolled his eyes and pointed at him, “It’s not like you won’t have the rest of us around to support you, hyung. In fact, I’ve now decided that I’m not going to rest until both of you make up and become friends again!” Wooyoung smiled triumphantly, as if he had just come up with the most brilliant idea.

Somehow, Hongjoong felt like this entire thing was going to backfire terribly.

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at1nys-blog · 7 months ago

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Promises and Future awaits

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x Uchiha!Reader

Summary: and when life brings enemies together you either play along or risk everything.

If there is something that Tobirama Senju can’t stand is how comfortable his brother is around Madara Uchiha, or any Uchiha for that metter.

He doesn’t understand why Ashirama has to constantly meet up with the leader of the Uchiha clan and mostly he doesn’t understand why she has to tag along. Maybe is a younger sibling thing he thinks.

Madara Uchiha and Ashirama Senju are sitting next to the river talking about only they knew what. He was sitting next to her, at the top of a tree not so far away. He had to keep an eye on his older brother.

“You know, if you keep at looking at them without blinking even once your eyes are going to kill you one day” she comments and he turns around with a confusing expression. “Just saying. I have some eye drops if you were to be in need” Tobirama scoffs, rolling his eyes because his nerves were running thin at the moment. One Uchiha was enough but two? Too many for his liking.

He goes back at checking at his brother, making sure Madara doesn’t do something stupid, or worse, his brother does something stupid. He jumps off the tree and doesn’t stop when he hears you asking him to wait for you. He doesn’t care if she stays behind or not.

“Ohy Tobirama” she is now next to him, her stealth going unnoticed by the shinobi regardless his ability.

“Is Senju for you.” He simply says, his attention still on the older of the family. She clears her throat and corrects herself calling him by his family name. Tobirama didn’t expect her to do so.

“What do you think they are talking about?” He doesn’t know and to be honest he doesn’t care what is so important for his brother to talk with an Uchiha, again, he is there just to keep an eye on them. “I think is to keep the peace between the clans.”

“And still I don’t know why is so necessary to talk walks outside the grounds of Konoha” he says, this time he take a quick look at her. She has long black jaded hair, just like her eyes, the Uchiha signature color. He doesn’t look far down than her face. He doesn’t care.

“They used to be best friends before they found out about each other families. Maybe they just want to spend some time together while keeping peace between our clans”

“Still, useless” he comments, turning back around and following his brother from a distance. “The only way to keep peace between the two clans is…” he gets cut off when he hears his brother calling his name.

“You need to tell me later your opinion on how to keep peace between our clans. Ash… Senju” the older looks at her confused and so her brother, why is she so formal?

“Ah YN don’t need to be so formal with me” he comments, and she only shakes her head. The older one understands it has something to do with his brother and whatever he had told you.

“Not my fault, I told her that she should address me as Senju. That’s it.” He says before Ashirama could scold him. “She is probably being nice by calling you Senju in front of me.” He adds. And he is so sure about that because he knows you are somewhat the nicer Uchiha that he had to interact with.

She agreed, clearing up his suspicions and he almost smiles. Almost. Feeling the sides of his lips turning up he stops before it is too late, before his brother, Madara, or worse, you could see the expression on his face.

Ashirama says something, but the youngest Senju can’t hear. He doesn’t hear it, his mind everywhere else than there. Tobirama asks to repeat and Madara is the one that teases him for his lack of attention.

“So… I was wondering…” she starts, jumping on the side of her brother. “What were you and Ashirama talking about?”

“Nothing too serious just two friends…” but Tobirama cuts him off. Scoffing he lets a soft “enemies” out his mouth. Everyone is looking at him now. His brother is sadden about Tobirama’s feelings towards the rival clan; Madara isn’t that surprised and she was upset.

“We aren’t enemies. Not anymore” he doesn’t answer, his silence speaking louder than anything he could say. He wasn’t going to forgive the Uchiha’s not today, not tomorrow, not never. “You won’t forgive us, will you?”

He expression hardens, and his voice becomes stern as he answers her that he will never forgive them, not when they have been at war with each other for decades.

“Do you really think i would ever forgive the Uchiha, just because we talk every day?”

“Not because we talk to each other but because my clan is sticking to their side of the deal. And besides would it be nice for all of use to be friends?” He is getting annoyed the more she speaks and the word friends is like punch in the face, turning to face her better he narrow his eyes and takes long steps towards her.

“You think…” One step closer. “That I, a Senju…” another step closer “would ever be friend…” and another one “with the people…” and again. At this point Madara steps in, moving her behind him. “That killed my brother?” He looks at you from Madara’s shoulders and he can see she doesn’t seem intimated by him. He doesn’t like it.

“You killed my brother too.” She says and he doesn’t move, he doesn’t add anything, not that he could. “And look at me, here trying to be a decent human being.” She pushes Madara on the side and Ashirama has to help him to not fall. “Respecting your boundaries because I wasn’t raised by a pa… you know what? I don’t need to give you explanations at all.”

Tobirama is at a lost for words, he knows she is right how could he think otherwise? But the pain is too much for him to forgive them. “It was war. It was for self-defense. It is different.” He comments and he wishes he didn’t say such words because now she is fuming with rage but she has self control, he would give her that.

Taking deep breathes she pinches the bridge of her nose, keeping calm she takes some seconds before speaking. “Is the same thing Tobirama. The war was just an official statement of what was going on. So stop with excuses.”

Expleining how he doesn’t need excuse for his actions he reminds her, and Madara who is there too, how they couldn’t expect him to forgive the Uchihas for what they did so easily, so soon. “Never said you have to forgive us now, but maybe one day? Can you think about it at least?”

“I don’t know. I have to see how things evolve from here” he says after a moment of deep thought. And she is happy, Tobirama can tell. Her face light up a little and she gives him a smile.

Is when the four of them sat down, close the river bed that Tobirama took a seat next to her, eyes filled with something that shouldn't be there, at least in his mind shouldn't be there at all. How can she be happy and all smiley when he had been so rude and cold to her just minutes ago? He didn't understand her optimism.

"Why are you trying so hard to get me to not hate your family anymore?" she turned to look at him, her expression serious this time. He is about to tell her to let it go, the question was stupid for him to ask. That he didn't know why he did that but she stopped him and answered him. Telling the youngest Senju it was because she is doing the same with his family too. That some Uchihas still hate the Senjus but she is trying to change their minds and dropp the hate. "Why? Why would you go out of your ways to do it?"

"Because I want peace, Tobirama. I don't want to risk it just because people can't move on. What is in the past should stay in the past. People change and we should give them a second chance." He scoffs, he doesn't think people can actually change, once a murderer always a murderer.

Looking at her Tobirama is sure that he never met an Unchiha like her before, not everyone else of her clan would bring up such topics, nor they would try to make people change their minds. She was different and still he couldn't bring himself to trust her. She is engoulfed in a conversation with Madara, something makes her laugh but he can't understand what it is. Is a joke the older Uchiha said? Or is the way she like to tease her brother?

"What do you think of her?" asks his brother, out of nowhere taking him off guard. "Do you like spending time with her?" Tobirama gives him a death glance and Ashirama raises his arms in surrender reminding him he was just asking, nothing too serious. "But for real, if you had to spend an intery day with her how would you feel?"

"I think I wouldn't mind it that much. She seems okay" the other Senju starts to think to himself, blabbering nonsenses under his breath. "what is going on in that mind of yours?"

"OHY YOU TWO..." she cuts off the two brothers, getting their attention they notice she had found a nice place where to take a seat and probably have lunch. And so it is, because when the two Senjus are finally there she handles the younger one two sandwiches first. "I remember you aren't very fond of tomatoes in your sandwich" and then let the other two men get theirs. "I swear I didn't poison it, I can prove it if you want"

"Is okay. I was just surprised you took the time to make mine without tomatoes, that's all" his voice is stoic but more of a whisper, as if he doesn't want the older two ninjas to hear him. But they do, they can hear his words but keep to themselfes because is not the right time to tease him, not when they have a little something to reveal.

Something is wrong, Tobirama can sense it. The air is heavier and his brother is weirder than usual. He would like to ask, to have the answers to why Ashirama is looking between him and her so much but knowing his brother maybe is nothing.

Madara is weird too, and this doesn’t sit right with the younger Senju, not when the older Uchiha is looking between him and her so much.

“Stop looking at us"

"Stop looking at us" he and her say in unison, and he is surprised she even noticed the looks they were given. Tobirama Senju didn't take her as a good observer, not when she seemed so caught up in her own, all rainbow and sunshines, world to notice what was happening around her.

"we are not looking at you two" starts Madara, obviously lying.

"yeah, why would we?" keeps going Ashirama. "you aren't that interesting" he adds, scoffing and crossing his arms faking disinterest.

Tobirama is ready to talk back to his brother but she does it first, commenting on how the youngest siblings are always more interesting than the older ones. He finds himself scoffing at the comment, mostly because of how his brother reacted. With teary eyes and a shivering lips he leans against the older Uchiha and tells him how his sister is being mean to him for free.

"You are prooving her point by being annoying" Madara states, pushing him slightly away but Ashirama is back clingy at him once again and Madara doesn't seems to mind too much. Something is going on between those two, Tobirama thinks.

Madara Uchiha has a lot of problems, Tobirama is sure about that but his sister? Even more. How is it that she does NOT flin....

"I'm sorry I have to marry who now?" Okay no, she still has some common sense. "just because I want to be his friend doesn't mean I am fine with marry this thing here" she adds.

"EHY" yes, he fells offended at how she had just called him "I have a name"

"Now you care? Didn't you heard what our brothers just said?"

"I did, and brother this is a crazy idea, but I don't like being called 'a thing' you know?"

"Once in your life can you please, for my well being, be focused on the right thing?" she is annoyed and he can't blame her. He is annoyed too.

"Look, if is for you I will keep focusing on the wrong thing." he can see her trying her best to not choke him in that instant. “But, going back to the main problem here…” he hears her let out a soft ‘thank you’ and smirks. “Who got this idea?”

Ashirama points at Madara and the older Uchiha looks at his friend offended.

“Not my idea.” He protests.

“You didn’t disagree either.”

“I’m sorry, you didn’t disagree? What kind of an older brother are you?” Madara wants to explain but Tobirama can imagine the Uchiha doesn’t have a strong enough explanation to why he didn’t reject the idea of a forced marriage. “There is no escape, am I right?”

Madara and Ashirama look at her desolated, she was right, Tobirama could tell that no matter how much they fought and rejected the idea the wedding wasn’t going to be called off. Either by his or her family.

“I guess we can’t say no to this.” He comments taking everyone off guard. “What? Is not like I enjoy this situation but I know I can’t say no.” Ashirama jumpes at him, happy that his younger brother is trying to make the best out of it.

The day leading to the wedding Tobirama never meet her. Not by accident, nor when he asked to see her. She was avoiding him like the plague.

“I don’t know what’s her problem” he says at his brother, but he doesn’t really wanna know the answer. He needs to vent. “She is all friendly and wants to make me change my mind and the moment we found out about the wedding she avoids me.”

Ashirama wants to tell him the reason, he knows it, but his brother doesn’t let him.

“Am I that hard to be around?”

“I mean…” the younger Senju gives him a death glance. “It is true. You are a pain in the ass when is about the Uchihas.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And besides she is avoiding you so you two won’t be mad at each other tomorrow.”

“Is tomorrow?” He almost forgot about it, key word: almost. Ashirama rolls his eyes not believing his brother could almost forget such a day.

“This is why she is avoiding you. You really forgot the day of your own wedding?”

“Is not like I wanted to get married in the first place.” He comments, and Ashirama knows is true, he knows that if his brother wanted to get married he wouldn’t have almost forgot about it.

“Okay, fair enough. But promise me one thing. Tomorrow do NOT, I’m begging you, do not get on her nerves. At least not in front of the guests.”

“I can promise you to be on my best behavior” Tobirama laughs, teasing his brother like that was his favorite part of the day and he needed some fun time before being caged into a marriage he didn’t want.

Avoiding Tobirama wasn’t easy, not when he seemed to be looking for her from time to time. The only way she had to not see him was to never leave the Uchiha’s territory, or so she thought because why is she seeing him at the entrance of her house the day before the wedding, late in the evening?

Looking around she notices she is alone outside. Everyone already home or still at work. She wondered why the police force wasn’t patrolling that area at the moment. Just her luck, she thought.

“Got lost?” She approaches him, and Tobirama almost jumps out of his skin hearing her voice. She notices “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting…”

“You weren’t expecting me to come back to my house? That’s hilarious.” He wants to explain but what could be a good enough excuse? Nothing.

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. I am sorry you felt like you needed to avoid me those last weeks.” She gave him a shy smile. “But you could have told me” he seems genuine, she thinks and is weird. Sure not weirder than having to marry a guy you barely know. “I wished we could have talked a little, just to get to know each other before tomorrow”

“We can talk now. If you don’t mind of course, I am sure you wish to be anywhere but inside an Uchiha’s home” she mentally palm faces herself, why did she needed to be this passive-aggressive with him?

“I won’t mind, and besides I don’t think this is going to be my last time here”

"My, oh my, is the Tobirama Senju being soft with an Uchiha?" she comments and he smiles, a soft and tiny little smile, but a smile regardless and she notice but doesn't comment. The fear of annoying him too big to do something about it.

Entering Tobirama is surprised to not see anyone, not Madara (lucky him) not her father nor her mother. He asks where everyone is and she looks at him surprised. Didn't he heard the music? Didn't he met anyone on his way here?

"So they partying without the bride?”

“Soon-to-be bride”

“Very soon-to-be bride. The wedding is in…” he checks the clock “seven hours”

“That’s not very soon. Very soon is in like an hour, or two max” she jokes and he finds himself smiling again. Was she always that nice to be around? Probably and he curses at himself for not noticing this sooner. Well he has a life to make it up to her, he thinks. “You want something to eat? Drink?”

“No, I’m…” but she was already filling up a glass with water for him. He is sure. He is also sure it out of habit. “Water is fine.”

They had the worst idea ever, who even left them talking all night long when they had to get ready early in the morning for the wedding?

Tobirama curses himself, he is too tired that morning, but he was happy that Madara didn’t stop them from talking.

She is too nervous, she doesn’t want to get married anymore. Sure Tobirama seemed very nice the night before but he is known to hate the Uchiha and this wasn’t going to stop just because he was marrying one, right?

She doesn’t want Tobirama to get in the room, she doesn’t want to let her family down neither. She doesn’t know what to do.

Someone knocks at the door, is Madara. He wants to know what the hell what was the problem.

“Tobirama is the fucking problem.” She confesses.

Madara sights, she can picture him pitching the bridge of his nose, a habit of his when annoyed with her.

“Madara Uchiha don’t sight at me. I swear, is… ugh. Fucking Senju making me second guess if this is actually a good thing.”

“What do you mean I make you nervous?”

“I mean… I’m nervous about how our life will be like.” Tobirama is surprised at her words. More because just some hours ago they were talking like civiliazed humans being and now she was worried about their marriage life?

“Can you open this door?” He says. He sounds exasperated.

“Why? So you can make fun of me to my face? No thank you”

“Just…” silence. “Open this door so we can talk.” Another round of silence from both sides. She doesn’t want to open the door, this is a fact and Tobirama had to take a deep breath. “Please open the door.”

She opens the door, a little bit. Perking her head out she doesn’t look at him at all.

He thinks to himself that her make up and hair look nice, he wonders how she looks in a kimono. In his defense he never saw her in one (like he ever cared to know before the news) and was curios. Yes, he is just curios. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tobirama looks at her with a judging look, was she for real? He scoffs before asking her to let him inside. She makes him promise to not be his usual self and the soon-to-be-husband just nods his head.

“Okay, what is that makes you, oh so nervous?” He did start with the wrong foot “sorry, force of habit.” She rolls her eyes.

“I enjoyed talking with you yesterday, I really did and I appreciated that you came to my place but…” she doesn’t know how to tell him, how is she supposed to without making him mad? Will he even care enough to get mad?

“But? But what?” Tobirama had too a seat on the couch of the room, and he noticed that she looks nice with the kimono on.

“But I don’t want to live in a house that feels cold.” She confesses and the younger Senju understands, she doesn’t need to explain what she means by that, he knows. He knows too well and he feels bad that she thinks that.

The younger Senju also knows he isn’t the right brother when it comes to comforting people, but he needs to, at least in this situation for now. So he tries his best.

“Listen, I know I am not the perfect husband material guy out there but we are in this situation, together, for the well being of Konoha. Which both of us care, am I right?” She nods her head, she doesn’t need to say anything at the moment. “So…” he sits up and takes her hands in his, they feel nice he thinks “…I promise to not be a stranger in our own house, and if you need anything, emotionally or physically wise, just tell me, I have a hard time reading people especially you Uchihas considering you are always moving in the shadows” she laughs, a short snort actually but she is smiling now.

A thank you is all that matters, Tobirama knows she doesn’t need to make promises now. She had always been the nice one between the two of them. Both during and after the war that took place between the two clans.

Tobirama is the one that needs to smooth out the edges when it comes to his rivals because now, that he likes it or not, he has to marry one of them.

He is still holding her hands, squeezing them lightly to silently ask her if she is better now, if she is ready to walk out that room with him on her side. She is. She doesn’t know what the future has in store for her, for them. She knows Tobirama will try his best and so is she.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto anime #naruto shippuden anime #naruto manga #naruto fanfiction #naruto shippuden fanfiction #naruto fanfic #naruto shippuden fanfic #naruto ff #naruto shippuden ff #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden imagines

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elaez · 6 months ago

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Yo! Never thought I'll drop an, uhm, essay about Tank Grunt on my main blog. But I got kinda tired, and now you'll have to read my thoughts on him.

WARNING: yeah, I'll mention my OC x canon stuff somewhere in the end, but it's not crucial, it's just my way of dealing with the main problem.

Tank Grunt: can you fix him and does he want you to?

First things first. Tank is an asshole. I love Tank. I hadn't play DS or GBA games yet, so I'm judging from the perspective of my own experience, observations and PC & PSP games.

Gotta say, I like the thought that Buzz resembles a default conservative american man from Texas who votes for Trump. I think it suits him pretty much. But why am I starting to talk about Buzz now?

Though I'm not american, I'm still from a very conservative country myself, and I see people like this pretty often. Yeah, they're supporting everything we don't like and everything we call toxic, but they don't really care and they're succeeding in it often. Of course, sometimes you can escape their influence, when you're growing up in this "culture", but usually it takes some, y'know, friends from the other side. The problem is that Tank doesn't have any friends at all.

Yes, I don't think Tank can just go and start questioning his life suddenly just by himself. He never had a different life, and people around him, living not like him, weren't approved by his (father's) worldview and some are his personal enemies. His ego is extremely fragile, and the only person to support it is Buzz. Even if Tank had some thoughts about try living differently, these were suppressed long ago.

So if he knows only one way to live and is taught to basically hate people, who don't fit in, can he just suddenly deny his only (unmutual) friend just because? Especially when it's your own dad. Y'know, judging from my own experience, it's hard to hate your parents. Even if they hurt you, deep inside you still hope they only want the best wishes for you. Or you're clinging to some nice memories, because it's hard to just admit that your own PARENTS can be just bad and abusive, because admitting it feels kinda desperate. And so I can't imagine Tank just denying his father by himself. But got to admit, I LOVED personally one headcanon (?), where Tank tried to rebel against Buzz in university, but ended up craving his approval and came back after graduating. Sad but true, I often see people like this in reality.

Okay, so we bleached Tank once more, because he's poor little flower, who broke down under the pressure of his upbringing, ego and abusive daddy. But the problem is that he isn't actually.

Yeah, he didn't choose his dad and people around him, but he chose how to act in this situation. At least punching Ripp from time to time is HIS OWN decision. Yeah, Ripp is a loser, a slacker and a disgrace. But what about just ignoring him or trying to make a worthy Grunt of him (what if it'll impress daddy even more?)? No, Tank is just beating the weaker one just because... because what?

Not sure if it fits into the term of "discipline", so I think it's just a common story, when people just take out their frustration on others. Especially the ones who can't fight back. ESPECIALLY when even your dad doesn't care about you hurting your own brother, so you don't have to hold responsibility for it. Yeah, not cute at all, not apologizable, it's just what real assholes do. Sad but true again, in some families it's just a common thing to punch the weaker because you had a bad day. And yeah, I'll repeat that word for a fourth time: ESPECIALLY when you're growing up in a culture of toxic masculinity, where the law of brute power is supreme.

To sum up another thesis: even if you have sad background, you still can choose to be or not to be an asshole. At least sometimes. And I HATE seeing fandom bleaching Tank (and it's actually the reason why I'm writing that, uhm, essay). But I'm not sure if "bleaching a character" means what I want to say actually, so let me put some definition in it. "Bleaching" in that context means apologizing and justifying a character with obvious flaws to make a lovable and non-problematic poor flower out of them.

And maybe "bleaching" is a pretty strong word for it, but often I see something like people kinda understanding the problematic of Tank's background, like, "yeah, toxic masculinity & family abuse is very bad", but then just making Tank a sad poor victim of his upbringing who did nothing wrong and is actually a cutie, who knows actually just what he is and dreams of being free of his daddy. So the main question comes.

Can you fix him and does he want you to?

To sum up what comes next: you probably can’t fix the PSP one, but you can give it a try with the PC one.

What do we have here? A kid, who’ve grown up in a military and toxic masculinity culture and got kinda brainwashed already. Conservative, xenophobic and conformist, but with a slightest touch of questioning “if anyone really knows who he is” somewhere very deep inside. When he is still a teenager (like he is in PC TS2), it’s… not too late yet, but very soon it will be. It’s no joke, when you’re living like this for many years already. First of all, he definitely needs a friend or two, I’ve already told why. But I think it’s… not really easy to just get along with him. Especially when he’s taught to dislike people who don’t fit in his worldview. And yeah, sometimes people get along even though their insights don’t match, but I’m not sure someone that someone like Tank would compromise that easily (or compromise at all – especially when it may lead to Buzz’s disapproval, which Tank is definitely afraid of). I think it’s a tough quest to 1) appear like fitting in; 2) actually have some “nice” insights to influence Tank with; 3) succeed in influencing; 4) survive talking to him for a pretty much time.

But does Tank want to be saved? I think he’d be extremely stubborn about it. At least because toxic masculinity isn’t about gladly admitting you would use some help.

And does Tank think his lifestyle is bad? Yeah, his childhood dreams and some creativity might have been suppressed by his father long ago, but he has a beaten path in life – a career he was preparing for, some helpful connections in military (not just a person, but his beloved father) and APPROVAL that is crucial for his ego. Maybe you can offer him something that would appear to be more worthy for him, but it takes too much hard work on it. Hard and very intricate work – to not trigger his stubbornness.

Got to say, there’s also an option of trying some kind of shock treatment on Tank. Of showing him something that would just shatter his ideals, his idol. But if he still loves and admires his father, how bad should that “something” be? Will he actually deny Buzz even after it? Or he’ll still crave someone to approve him and order him? And probably the same ambiguous situation if Buzz will die, I think.

And now, if you suddenly appear to know me or my sideblog, you might remember that I have an OC x Tank MLM ship. It might sound pretty funny after me saying that I see Tank as a conservative (that also means “homophobic”, of course) and kinda insufferable in interacting with. How is it possible? Well, meet Danny – he is our lab rat now. Hi there, Danny!

I won’t dig deep in the plots and other stuff of mine. I’ll just tell the basics.

So, Danny got along with Tank for some reasons beside just being neighbors with him: 1) interests (yeah, you can call Danny a jock) 2) dislike towards other Strangetown inhabitants (especially aliens – Danny can’t help but kinda fear them because of their, uhm, way of reproducing and the very fact they are a mysterious futuristic civilization from far away, so yeah, they’re both xenophobic towards them) 3) Danny being not “strange” and resembling a default tough guy pretty much 4) competitive dynamic in their interactions. Yeah, Danny is better with words, he can and he WILL tell Tank that he’s awesome and he'll succeed and be appreciated by his dad (because Danny honestly thinks so), but he can also punch Tank’s face into the sand in another spontaneous sparring. A little ego boost mixed with a good punch to not let Tank relax.

But even if that kid of mine is such a good friend to Tank, can he fix him? I’m not sure, maybe if he didn’t disappear traceless after three years of friendship (to come back seven years later, but it doesn’t matter now). But he just left Tank with some new things to think about, and it’s enough for me. Let’s be real: if the person doesn’t want to be saved, you can’t really help them. But you can give them something to think about and maybe they’ll change their mind… someday.

About PSP Tank… y’know, he’s already an adult now and a colonel. I think it’s too late for fixing him already.

And to finish this spontaneous “essay”, I want to ask: do we actually need to fix Tank, to bleach him once more? I’ll say it again: that’s the reason why I’m writing all of this stuff. I’ve seen many stuff under Tank’s tag, but I think it’s kinda too safe, soft and apologizing for me. Yeah, Tank is an asshole. It doesn’t stop me from loving him. I even think that’s why I do love him, actually, think that’s what makes him himself. We don’t need to make characters apologizable and cute to love them.

#tank grunt #sims 2 premades #sims 2 strangetown #buzz grunt mentioned #ripp grunt mentioned too #strangetown #sims 2 oc mentioned #danny duster mentioned #sorry for this

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straw-beri-jam · 1 year ago

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Drrr-kuramerukagari post ketsu swap au

Basically iseya/eiwajima switching places with izaya/shizuo

I’ve never really posted abt things before and this is the first time I’m attempting to write abt something in such detail, so please bear with me🥲

I want to emphasize that this is all post ketsu but prob before sh and sunset novels bc I’m literally ignoring some characters.

Iseya is shocked to find himself in a wheelchair, looks for the one person he knows and trusts, eiwajima, only to find someone slightly different, in appearance and also behavior. When they meet he looks at him like he’s grown a second head, the wheelchair shocks him too but he also wasn’t expecting izaya to just appear in front of him with no purpose. Iseya just looks at him, comments on the hair that while he does look good blonde he prefers his natural brown.

Shizuo thinks he’s playing games so he shouts and takes a step closer and they’re both shocked to see izayas body tremble. Iseya gets glimpses of the battle in his head, his mind repeating the events over and over again and he understands. They’re not together, they’re hardly even friends. They’re enemies. How he can’t even begin to understand, how he could come to hate this man? He’s so much like eiwajima, just with sharper edges.

He takes a look around people are staring and whispering, some recognize them both and think they’re gonna get into a fight. He doesn’t like hearing them talk, despite his love for people he doesn’t really want to be seen right now, not in front of him like this when everything’s so complicated but also not. He doesn’t really know what to do now. He wanted to confine in the one person he knew he could talk to, but that person doesn’t exist the way he does in his memories.

Shizuo doesn’t understand what’s going through the fleas head but he can see him thinking. He almost looks sad, which is weird because izaya would never show emotion, especially not to him.

Iseya understands their rivalry more or less because despite everything it’s still them, so he tells him that he remembers him differently but he doesnt want to hurt him. He wants to learn more about him. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay here or even how he came here, but he knew from the start that something was different. And so if he’s gonna have to stay here it’ll be with this alternate version of eiwajima, whatever their past may have been.

Shizuo is dumbfounded but agrees bc this guy, whoever he is, seems much easier to get along w than izaya, or maybe it’s just a side of izaya he never got the chance to see. (Or maybe in the very back of his mind he’s actually still playing games w him)

After talking (he realizes that this being a lie is too much of a stretch even for izaya) he feels sad to find out that they exists somewhere and they’re together, they’re friends they talk and laugh and are happy. Iseya, he calls himself, tells him about eiwajima and how he is, what his life is like and he is so jealous of his alternate self because he really is living the life he’s wanted since he found out he had this cursed strength.

He feels this loss, that he could have had that if he tried hard enough. The voice in his head telling him that eiwajima makes iseya feel good while he put izaya in a wheelchair. Eiwajima has wooed iseya while he scared izaya away. He really wonders if he has anything in common with the guy, but he must because iseya is staring at him like he’s holding the sun.

Iseya kisses him at some point and shizuo finds he doesn’t know what he’ll do when this guy leaves because he’s really enjoying their time together.

Alternatively if it’s eiwajima switching places, he’s rather confused at the hair and doesn’t like hearing people talk abt him while he walks, it seems they have nothing nice to say and they all avoid him like he’d crush them with his glance.

Of course he seeks out iseya only find a wheelchair bound man who feels like iseya but has a very unsettling vibe. He is obviously wounded if the wheelchair wasn’t enough to go by but apart from that the man freezes at his appearance and is trembling.

He immediately realizes that they don’t share the same relationship and past he knows to be true. What’s more they not only don’t get along but things have escalated between them so far that he’s managed to traumatize the man before him.

He doesn’t know what the best course of action here is, he doesn’t want to speak for alternate him because he doesn’t quite understand the extent of their situation, but “iseya” looks at him with such hatred and demands answers that he quite frankly doesn’t have.

He decides to come clean bc he couldn’t pretend to hate him even if he tried. He explains who he is and what he actually wanted by coming here and alternate iseya is so confused. He starts ridiculing him and it does kinda piss him off but when he accidentally punches a hole through the wall in frustration and “iseya” freezes again all his anger goes away.

He tells him that he cares about him. That despite what they’ve been through here he misses iseya and wants to see him. He tells him that they’re alike in some ways and he finds them endearing and wouldn’t trade what he has w iseya for anything. That they’re happy.

Izaya looks so bitter and hates that what this fake Shizu-chan is saying actually makes him want it, he realizes that he might be jealous and gets pisses bc as if he’d be jealous. He tells fake shizu that fake him is prob just lying to him and actually hates him but he’s hiding it to use him for his own advantage, bc that’s what kind of person he is really and if they’re anything alike then that’s what’s gonna happen.

Eiwajima just gives him a sad smile (which pisses izaya off even more). He knows what the words mean, that the world he’s describing, his home, is making the other man emotional. He strongly and confidently says that iseya loves him and he knows it. It’s not possible to fake their kind of love, and he doesn’t mind being used by that man, they love eachother and that’s all that really matters.

Izaya has never hated anyone more than this man before. He’s so much worse than shizu-chan bc he doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t react to anything he just sits there, spouts all this nonsense and looks at him like he’s actually in love w him and he really doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, he doesn’t want to be here but he’s so incredibly curious abt their life. He knows this guy is telling the truth but he refuses to believe it bc it seems so dreamlike and unreal, he can’t fathom being happy as described, much less with this man.

Eiwajima wants to stay with him, despite the fact that he didn’t actually do anything to bring this man such pain he still sees the emotions swimming around in his eyes and he wants to help him. Despite the fact that it’s not his iseya, it’s still this worlds version of him and that’s enough for him to try and fix whatever they have going on, or at least help in some way. He tries to get close, as close as he’s allowed and talks about whatever he remembers from his home, all things almost always leading to iseya of course. He tries various topics hoping the other will come in at some point and they’ll have a normal conversation, as normal as it can get anyways.

Izaya eventually does, they talk like they’re friends. Izaya can’t comprehend what’s happening but he’s trying not to think about, fake Shizu-chan is interesting, he likes hearing about this world of theirs and his life there, he realizes that he’s having a casual conversation and it’s easy too he’s easy to talk to and listen to. He’s enjoying this more than he originally thought he would. He wonders if his Shizu-chan is this nice to be around when he’s not throwing things at him, which he knows is probably true, he just has never been on the receiving end of shizuo’s kindness. However this “eiwajima” he’s very charming, and he can’t seem to look away from those eyes.

Idk where this is going but yeah I just want them to find out abt their alternate lives separately and cry abt how miserable they are. Maybe they would try to find each other and start over (in a sense) after this happens so they can actually make a happy ending for themselves (or a happy new beginning)

them actually swapping places makes it hurt more since they’re inserted into this foreign world. They would both be shocked to find their supposed enemy sleeping next to them and the ppl around them liking them, I don’t think they’d ruin anything, well maybe izaya would try depending on what would happen but I don’t think he’d would want to make these ppl hate alternate him even just to spite him bc they prob wouldn’t, I mean they know what he’s like and they like him so…

shizu would be so shocked to see ppl liking him random ppl not afraid of him but wanting him around, he’d be afraid to talk to them so as not to hurt them. And then as far as their relationship goes they’d be happy but also sad that they can’t have it.

Overall it would mostly be sad (bc as it seems I love angst), heartbreaking really, to see what they could have had but weren’t as lucky as the other two. There’s a lot of reasons as to why the two of them never really got the chance to get along (which I’m not gonna get into now bc that’s a whole other story and lots of ppl have already made theories on it) but I think that seeing versions of themselves happy and well is like a slap in the face bc had their circumstances been different they could have had that, had they tried to do things differently they could have had something similar.

This has been in my head for a while (post ketsu usually is on repeat) and I really had to get it out bc it’s too much, and it turned into a whole ass essay🥲 this is the first time I’m attempting this tho so pls don’t look into it too much, it’s a mess of thoughts that I can’t quite put together. I apologize if there’s any mistakes or holes in it, it’s def ooc so yeah…

Thank u to anyone who decided to read it and made it this far! If theres anything anyone wants to add pls go right ahead I’m starving for these boys. Thanks again for reading! 🥰

#durarara #kuramerukagari #shizaya #eiwaseya #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #iseya #eiwajima #eiwazima #idk which one is correct for his name so I’m tagging both #I’m sorry this is so long #but I had to GET IT OUT #it’s been in my head nonstop since I saw the movie #i might have forgotten to add some things but this is all I can think of rn #I’m so in love with them it’s not even funny

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 years ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you'd write a Marilyn x bad girl student reader? Bad girl like motorcycle riding, ripped jeans, don't adhere to the dress code or turn in assignments on time, most of the other students scared of her, all around bad ass reader. When Marilyn finds out reader is in her class she dreads it because reader has always made it hard on the other teachers but she's pleasantly surprised when reader does well and never disrupts class. In fact reader has helped her out from time to time, just quietly moving heavy stuff for Marilyn and picking up things Marilyn dropped for her. The only time reader causes a disruption is when another student harasses Marilyn for being a normi and reader punches his lights out. They get into a relationship where Marilyn is all mommy dom with spanking and choking tied up reader smut. Not sure how to end this request lol

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))))))

A very, very bad girl

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: Smut, strap on, bad girl reader, fluff?, spanking, kinks, dom! marilyn

Word count: 5,715

Summary: You were a very bad girl at Nevermore, but when you met her, you changed a bit… just for her…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Ms. (Y/N), for the last time, please take your feet off the table,” your math teacher said. You smiled and shook your head.

“I don't feel like it,” you said, looking at your nails with indifference.

You were that way, you had no remedy. When your parents sent you to Nevermore, they thought you would finally become a good girl. They were wrong. That school had too many rules and these were your worst enemies. You had no intention of obeying, of dressing in that hideous uniform and of stopping terrorizing others with your haughty and almost violent attitude.

“Don't make me have to repeat it to you…” Your teacher said, tired of you.

“Does anyone mind if I put my feet on the table?” You asked the rest of your classmates out loud. Logically they all shook their heads. “You see it? You can continue.”

“I’m sick of you, (Y/N)…” The old woman hissed, crossing her arms.

You laughed out loud and held a defiant look.

“Please, shut up, I’m sick of your annoying voice,” you said whispering. Obviously the teacher heard you and banged her fist on the table.

“It's over, (Y/N), to the director's office, now.”

You raised your eyebrows, lowering your feet and dragging the chair so that it made an excruciating creak.

You were used to visits to Weems's office. You could almost say you lived there.

“Principal Weems…” You crooned as you knocked on the door. Immediately Larissa opened it and peeked in, puffing at the sight of you.

“You again? What have you done this time?” She asked listlessly. You shrugged.

“Nothing, it seems that Mrs. Redfield doesn't want my back to stop hurting,” you said going into the office.

“What am I going to do with you…”Weems sighed. “Sit down.”

You slumped back in the chair while Larissa searched for what looked like a file bigger than the entire Harry Potter books saga.

“Let's see... Misconduct, swearing in class, flagrant violation of the Nevermore’s dress code...” She said that last sentence looking you up and down. There was no sign of the regulation uniform. Just a black top and a too-ripped jeans. “Fights with classmates, reckless driving on the grounds, destruction of gardens and school property... My God, (Y/N), I assure you that I have never seen someone with a file like yours.”

“What prize will I get?” You asked amused. Weems rolled her eyes and sighed in despair.

“You're playing with fire, (Y/N), if your parents weren't my friends you were out of Nevermore a long time ago.”

“Oh, I love privileges,” you said laughing, with a cocky and defiant posture.

“I'm glad to hear it, because as a privileged girl that you are, you're going to serve a privileged punishment…” Larissa told you, smiling with satisfaction, looking for a stack of papers. “I've seen your handwriting and it's pretty decent. You are going to transcribe all these documents to make them readable.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

“But I have to clean the bike and…” You said, starting to regret it.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, (Y/N),” Larissa said wryly, putting all that stack of papers in front of you.

Naturally you already had in mind to duck, but when you raised a hand she grabbed your wrist.

“Do you think I'm dumb enough to let you go? You underestimate me, (Y/N). This time you are going to fulfill your punishment here, with me,” she told you with a gentle smile. You pursed your lips and grunted, carrying the stack of papers to the table the principal pointed out to you.

“Shit…” You whispered, sitting down at the small desk.

“What have you said? I'm afraid I didn't hear you correctly...” Larissa said, blinking rapidly.

“Nothing…” You said, picking up a pen, ready to carry out your punishment.

The seconds seemed like minutes, and the minutes seemed like hours. You've never had the opportunity to fully serve a punishment. Of course, you would make the time unbearable for the principal too.

“I'm boooooored,” you crooned.

“Poor thing,” Larissa said without looking at you, while she leafed through some papers.

Someone knocked on the door, interrupting the tedious punishment.

“Can I come in?” A voice you didn't know said.

“Oh, Marilyn, of course, come in, please,” Larissa said, smiling and getting up.

An unknown woman entered the office. The first impression for you was very important, and that red-haired woman impressed you. She seemed shy, putting on her glasses in an amusing move. You followed her with your eyes, without saying a word. Curiosity invaded you.

“I'm glad you've arrived, let me be the first to welcome you to Nevermore,” Weems said, shaking her hand.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Larissa. I know it must have been difficult to be admitted,” the woman said, sitting in front of the director, who made a gesture to play it down.

“Oh, it's nothing. You have the honor of being the first normi to teach at Nevermore, and I sincerely want you not to be the last one.”

The redhead nodded and looked at you curiously.

“Who is she?” She asked. You remained silent, noticing how your cheeks blushed. You were unable to utter a word, to make a joke. That woman had caught your eye and no matter how hard you tried to give an explanation to that reaction, you couldn't.

“Oh, she's (Y/N), she has the great achievement of being the most troublemaker student in Nevermore,” Larissa said, getting up and walking towards you. “Be careful with her, she's a time bomb, but they forgot to put a timer on her,” she said amused, placing a hand on your shoulder, which you pulled away with a grunt.

“Eh, I can introduce by myself,” you said, looking at the redhead, who kept looking at you curiously. “I am (Y/N), the most beautiful, nicest and coolest student of Nevermore, and you? Who are you?” You said, extending a hand towards the woman.

She laughed softly, shaking your hand.

“I'm Marilyn Thornhill, the new botany teacher,” she told you. You nodded amused.

“Plants, how funny,” you said sarcastically. She kept smiling, apparently she had not understood the meaning of your words.

“Be very careful with her, Marilyn, she is the terror of the teachers. And you, (Y/N), could you do me a big favor and be nice to Marilyn?”

You ignored the director's comment and looked back at Marilyn, winking at her.

“If you behave well, I'll be good…” You said with a suggestive voice. She laughed, as if she didn't get the point of everything you were saying. She seemed very innocent, and you liked that, you liked her a lot.

Larissa's hand went directly to the back of your neck, giving you a soft smack. Surely she had understood what you meant.

“Keep writing, (Y/N)…”

Two days later, your first botany class finally arrived. You were expecting to see that woman in action. She naturally attracted you, she was the type of woman you liked. She's innocent, without malice, the kind of woman your brusque and rebellious personality could corrupt.

You sat at your desk and to your own surprise, you didn't put your feet up on the table, you sat down right. You took out what little was left of your books and put them on the table, under the strange look of your classmate.

“What are you looking at?” You asked rudely. The boy shook his head and looked away.

“Good morning guys, my name is Marilyn Thornhill, and I'm your new botany teacher,” the redhead said enthusiastically. You could see how her eyes were looking sideways at you. Surely Larissa had filled her in on all your antics.

“They say that she is normi, that she has no ability,” the girl next to you whispered. You looked at her, annoyed at listening to her more than to Marilyn.

“Oh, really? Weems must have gone crazy,” another girl answered.

In a few seconds the murmur became more present. You couldn't hear the class, you were surrounded by sarcastic comments and various gossip from your classmates.

“I would appreciate a bit of silence, please,” the teacher said, sighing.

You glared around you. It was her first class and your classmates did nothing but annoy you. Unlike you, who was silent, behaving like an exemplary student.

“Please…” Marilyn insisted, starting to get desperate.

“Shut up, damm it!” You yelled, getting up from your chair. They all looked at you stunned. “Shut up or I'll shut up you.”

Silence fell. The redhead looked at you with wide eyes. She wouldn't expect the Nevermore trouble factory to have silenced her classmates.

“Please, continue,” you said with a wide smile, while all your classmates lowered their heads.

Marilyn shook her head and pretended nothing had happened, giving you a strange look.

When the class ended and all your classmates left the conservatory, you smugly approached the redhead, who seemed to be organizing some boxes.

“Aren't you going to thank me?” You asked, tapping her shoulder. Marilyn jumped and smiled at you nervously.

“Oh, (Y / N), I… Well, thanks I guess,” she said shyly, as she placed a box on her desk and emptied its contents.

“I guess? Come on, redhead, I've done you a favor,” you said, pretending to be offended. She glanced at you briefly, but then she turned away. It was obvious that your presence made her nervous. You began to wonder what Larissa had told her about you. “Are you afraid of me?” You asked mockingly.

“Well, I…” Marilyn said, looking for a way to dodge your question. “Honestly, I don't know what to tell you. Larissa has told me a lot of disturbing things about you.”

“Yeah, Larissa, of course,” you said, leaning against her desk and picking up a very small pot and looking at it curiously. “What is this?”

“Be careful with that, please, it's a rare specimen of a miniature carnivorous plant,” Marilyn told you with fear in her eyes.

You smiled and began to play with the pot, carelessly passing it from one hand to the other.

“How funny,” you said, seeing the horrified expression of the redhead. “Surely now you expect me to set it on fire, or break it, that's what Larissa told you, right?”

“Please, (Y/N), give it back to me, it's a very delicate plant,” she told you nervously, reaching out her arm to take the pot. You stepped away and took advantage of the fact that you were taller than her, raising your arm as high as you could.

“No way. First I want you to thank me for having shut those pesky ones’ mouth,” you said amused, seeing how the redhead tried to reach the small plant, without success.

Marilyn snorted and shook her head, crossing her arms.

“Okay, (Y/N), I appreciate you letting me teach the class in peace, are you happy?”

You smiled widely and returned the plant, which the redhead quickly took, looking at you over her glasses.

“Have you ever been told that you shouldn't judge someone before you meet them?” You said ironically. She closed her eyes and nodded.

“You're right, (Y/N), I'm sorry. Larissa warned me that I should be careful with you. I'm having a bit of a hard time getting used to this place and I wouldn't want you to give me trouble.”

You laughed out loud.

“Calm down, Marilyn, I don't give trouble to attractive women like you…” You whispered in her ear. She looked at you surprised, but she didn't say anything, she just continued with her boxes, glancing at you from time to time.

“Don't you have class right now?” She asked, obviously uncomfortable with your presence.

“I'm not going. I hate maths,” you said indifferently, while you watched how the redhead seemed to suffer when picking up a box that seemed heavy. “Hey, don't try too hard, redhead,” you said, helping her to catch it.

“Don't call me redhead, (Y/N), I'm your teacher. I'm assuming you're not going to call me Miss Thornhill, but I'd appreciate it if you would at least call me Marilyn.”

You rolled your eyes, placing that box where she indicated.

“Fine, Marilyn…” You sighed.

The teacher's attitude towards you was abrupt, fearful, nervous. Larissa should have told her you were little short of the devil. You didn't want to have that fame, at least with her.

The days passed like this. You were the terror of the teachers, but not of all. With Marilyn you were an angel. Even your fights and punishments had lessened. Your attraction to the redhead increased so much that it was impossible for you not to say suggestive phrases about her while you helped her after class. She was skilled at dodging hints. It was already impossible for her to be as innocent as you thought. Her smile and the slight blush on her cheeks told you that she perfectly understood what you wanted to say.

Little by little, that absurd fear that she had of you disappeared and her attitude towards you was much calmer. You weren't sure, but somehow you sensed that she had some interest in the naughty bad girl you were. For some strange reason, she was always there when you got into trouble.

One afternoon, you were going for a motorcycle ride to loosen up a bit. You had class works to do, but you didn't care, you never did.

“Hello, precious,” you said tenderly to your motorcycle, which you loved above all things.

You were going to start the engine, when you heard some desperate screams.

“Start damn it!”

It was Marilyn, who seemed to be having trouble starting the little beetle. You were going to ignore it, but the situation seemed too funny to you. You got off the motorcycle and approached the car, leaning mockingly out the window.

“Any problem?” You asked with a wide smile. Marilyn looked at you and, resigned she nodded.

“Well, yes, many problems, (Y/N). The car won't start and I have to go to Jericho to look for the seeds I need for... Well, for my classes...” She told you, turning the key over and over again.

“Well, well, let me take a look,” you said with the same mocking tone. “Open the engine, redhead.”

“Marilyn!” The redhead yelled, opening the engine door.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say…” You whispered, taking a look. “Oh oh…”

“What's happening?”

“I'm afraid someone has had a little fun,” you said, reaching into the engine and pulling out what looked like a broken belt. “This should be there, see?”

Marilyn got out of the car and was horrified to see that you were right.

“It is difficult for the car to start without this. I'm afraid you'll have to call the tow truck, redhead,” you said with a pitying face, handing her the broken leash.

“Oh, shit…” Marilyn sighed. “I'll ask Larissa to take me to the town and…”

It was the best opportunity of your life. You weren't going to waste it.

“No way, redhead... Marilyn. I'll take you,” you said, pointing to the motorcycle.

Marilyn looked over your shoulder with raised eyebrows.

“Are you going to take me... In that thing?” She asked you. “No way, there's no way I'm going to get on that thing with you.”

You shrugged and walked away.

“As you wish, but I think Larissa is not here…” You crooned. “Surely those seeds can wait until tomorrow…” You looked at her, smiling, while you got on the motorcycle. She rolled her eyes and cautiously approached.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “But be careful, please. I never liked these things,” she said with a voice of having given up.

“Calm down…” You said, taking another helmet out of the small compartment and tossing it to her.

“Oh, God…” She sighed as she got on the bike with you.

“Hold on, redhead,” you said, tying her arms around your waist.

“Please, (Y/N), I only ask you not to ruuuuuun,” she said, too late. You had already started, and you used to go fast. “Please, (Y/N), stop!”

You laughed while she, scared, clung to you with all her strength.

It seemed unlikely, but from that day on, the strange relationship you had got closer and closer.

Little by little, the redhead responded to your advances. Never in the way you expected, but it seemed to amuse her that you flirted with her in such a shameless way. Sometimes you got the impression that Marilyn dropped things on the floor for you to pick up, you'd soon find out why.

You were there as always, helping Marilyn with her plants. Not that you were a good girl now, quite the opposite. But with her you were, you were the kindest girl, but also the cheekiest girl of Nevermore. As you put down a large pot in the ground, you looked at Marilyn. You didn't believe what she was seeing. She was looking at you, but not at you, she was looking at your butt. You were wearing a very short skirt, and surely it wasn't exactly your skirt that she was looking at.

“What? Do you like what you see?” You asked, getting up. She looked away quickly.

“I don't know what you mean…” She said, pretending to take care of one of the plants. You bit your lip and ran to get behind her and lean into her ear.

“Yes, you know, redhead, you were looking at my panties…” You said humming, brushing the hair away from her ear. She jerked around, pushing you back a bit.

“Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N). If you have already finished with the pots you can leave,” she said, pretending, very badly, by the way.

“Okay,” she said, making an unexpected move. You grabbed Marilyn by the head and pulled her up, planting a kiss on her lips. She didn't resist, but she did stay wide-eyed. It was your first time taking that step and to your delight, she didn't seem to mind at all. “See you tomorrow,” you crooned, walking out of the conservatory and leaving Marilyn gaping.

After stealing that kiss from the redhead, you got used to doing it all the time. She never complained, but she never kissed you back either. It was weird, she seemed blocked whenever you zoomed in. It was as if he really liked you, as if the little suspicion you had ceased to be, to become evidence. Soon the occasion would come that would make everything clear.

“And for this reason, these little wonders can survive weeks without a drop of water…” Marilyn explained, under your watchful eye. You heard murmurs next to you. As much as you ordered them to shut up, your classmates ignored it.

“Look at her, she tries to be cool but she can't, deep down I feel sorry for her,” a boy behind you said. You concentrated to listen better.

“It's pathetic. I can't wait for her to get out of Nevermore. The normies have no right to be here,” his classmate said.

You had a serious face, you stopped listening to Marilyn a long time ago.

“Just wait and see, I have prepared a little surprise.”

“What have you done this time?”

“Watch and learn. This is how normies are treated in Nevermore,” one of the boys said, moving his hand towards the redhead's desk.

From the wall, what looked like a tarp was unfurled, with some horrible words written on it. Marilyn froze as she read the message.

The best normi is the dead normi

The entire class erupted in laughter, as Marilyn struggled to maintain her composure. You had heard the conversation, you knew who was to blame.

“Damned bastard!” You said, getting up from the table and turning around. “Hey, it was him!” You said, grabbing the collar of her shirt. Marilyn didn't say anything, she just stared at you.

“Let me go, I'm just saying what we all think,” The boy told you. Your blood boiled

“Apologize right now, Fred…” You hissed, grabbing his shirt tightly.

“I'm not even going to do it, that damn normi has to get out of Nevermore…” He said you in a mocking tone.

That was too much for you. With all your might, you pushed the boy, making him fall to the ground, knocking over several chairs and tables along the way.

“Stupid!” He yelled. No one seemed to care that you were in class.

“You're the stupid one, you're going to find out!” You yelled, throwing yourself on top of him and starting a fight in the middle of the conservatory.

“Stop it!” Marilyn yelled, approaching you with fear. You looked at her, causing your partner to punch you several times.

“Damn imbecile,” you said, putting your hand on your nose, which soon began to bleed. “I'm going to destroy you!” You said hitting her with all your might.

“For God's sake, (Y/N), stop it, stop it!” The redhead said, trying to separate you from him, who already had his hands in a surrender position. You kicked, but you let yourself be dragged by Marilyn.

“Everyone out, class's over!” She yelled, checking that, despite the beating, the boy could get up. You stayed there, held by Marilyn on the ground.

“You'll see when I catch you,” you said, passing a hand across your nose, pointing threateningly at your partner.

“Why did you do it, (Y/N)?” Marilyn asked you, while she healed your wounds. “If I tell Weems what happened, she won't hesitate to expel you.”

“What did you want me to do? You don't deserve that,” you said, hissing when the cotton touched one of your wounds.

“I don't need you to defend me, (Y/N). I just overlook that kind of things, I'm used to it,” she told you, caressing your cheek. You smiled mischievously.

“Did you like to see me give that idiot the beating of his life? Confess it, redhead...” You sighed and rolled her eyes. She looked like she was going to deny it, but quite the opposite. She came up to you and kissed you on the lips. A slow, tender kiss, that had nothing to do with the ones you stole from her.

It might seem like a simple gesture, but it was something else, it was the beginning of a real relationship, one in which words were not needed.

“You're a bad girl, (Y/N),” she whispered after kissing you. You widened your eyes and bit your lip. “I like bad girls...”

“I won't be so bad when I've defended you,” you murmured, grabbing her waist. She laughed, putting both hands on your chest.

“We all have defects…”

You were kissing the redhead with passion, with desire, as you entered her room. It had been a while now, and it seemed like the right time to turn up the heat a bit.

“You should be in class, (Y/N)…” Marilyn gasped, between kisses. You laughed, attacking her neck unceremoniously.

“I don't care about classes…” You said. Unexpectedly, she grabbed your hair.

“No, no, no (Y/N), I can't allow you to continue being a bad girl…” She whispered in your ear. “If you don't go to class, I'll have to punish you...”

You opened your eyes. Of all the people you knew, she was the least likely to behave that way. You didn't like to feel dominated, but you already made several exceptions with her, it was okay to make another one.

“Are you going to punish me?” You asked pouting. “Look how I’m shaking.”

The moment you said those words, you received a slap on the cheek. It was not a soft one, it stung.

“Shut up, bitch…” The redhead said, grabbing her hair. “Don't try to be cool with me, I think you don't know me well...”

You shook your head and bit your lip. You wanted to keep teasing her, you wanted to see what she was capable of.

“I do what I want, redhead…” You said, earning another slap. Marilyn sighed and shook her head, shoving you roughly onto the bed.

“You have to learn manners, (Y/N). Maybe I have to teach you a lesson…” She said, sitting next to you. “Come here,” she told you, patting her lap.

You looked at her with a frown.

“Have I not spoken clearly enough, (Y/N)? I told you to get on my lap. Mommy is going to teach you to be a good girl...”

You backed away smiling, surprised by your lover's domineering attitude. Seeing that her gaze became more and more dangerous, you decided to obey, lying on her lap.

“That's how I like it, an obedient girl…” Marilyn said mockingly. “Now mommy is going to teach you to treat her with respect… To behave properly.”

“You like that I’m a bad girl. You can't help it, "mommy,"” you said joking. Her hand fell on your buttocks with a painfully pleasurable force.

“Mmm…” She murmured. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either. “I like to teach good manners to bad girls like you, (Y/N). Stupid girls who think they are the coolest in school for wearing ripped pants, riding motorbikes and talking back to the teachers...”

Saying those words with a lusty hiss, she pulled down your pants and underwear, exposing your butt.

“You have a beautiful ass, (Y/N), it's a shame that I have to punish it…” She told you between laughs. You just nodded. You couldn't see what was happening, but her touch was tense, you knew what was coming, and it turned you on. “Come on honey, be a good girl... Count with me...”

“One!” You yelled as you received the first spank. It itched, it stung, but you had to fight back a moan. “Fuck…Two!”

“That's it... What a good girl...” The redhead whispered, relieving your injured area a little. “Come on, come on, we're not done yet. You have to be punished for everything you've done. I'm sure the rest of your teachers would really like to see you like that... So submissive, so... obedient.”

“I thought you were a sweet and innocent spinster and it turns out that you're vicious woman... I like it,” you said, earning another strong spanking.

“Shut up!” She yelled at you, grabbing your hair and pulling it hard. “Haven't they taught you not to judge people without knowing them?” She repeated mockingly, just like you did in her first class. “I just want you to open your dirty mouth to count…”

You nodded and closed your eyes. The heat that was building between your legs was already almost unbearable, and it hadn't even started.

“Five! Six!” You counted, following the frantic rhythm of her whipping. Your butt hurt, surely it was completely red. She laughed with every hit, she surely was enjoying on almost as many levels as you.

“Twenty!” You counted. Marilyn chuckled.

“Okay, (Y/N), we're done with this. Now I want you to undress and lie down on the bed,” she said, moving away from her lap. You looked at her with a smile camouflaged in a grimace of pain.

“Why don't you undress yourself?” You asked, grabbing her blouse and undoing its buttons. She looked at you, blinking repeatedly, before giving you another slap.

“You may be the queen at school, (Y/N), but in my bed I'm in charge, and you're going to do what I tell you…” She told you with a natural smile.

“Very, very good,” you said, getting rid of your already half-down pants. She looked at you with desire, while she searched for something in her drawer. It looked like a rope.

“Lie down,” she told you, once you were naked. “Mommy hasn't finished with you yet...”

You nodded, obeying.

Marilyn got up and undressed little by little. You tried to touch her body several times, but you always received a slap.

“You are so desperate, (Y/N), so anxious for mommy to fuck you…” She said to you, climbing on top of you and grabbing your wrists.

“What are you doing?” You asked when the rope was tied to your hands and the redhead took them to the headboard. “Hey, untie me.”

“No, my love... I'm not going to untie you...” She told you, giving you a tender kiss on your lips. “You're not so brave anymore, are you? Now you are at my mercy, (Y/N)… But don't worry, mommy will be good to you, as long as you obey.”

“I think I can get used to being tied up…” You whispered, fixing your gaze on her breasts, salivating from having them in your mouth.

“I'm glad you think so…” She said, caressing your cheek. “Look at you, you're so wet,” she said while with her other hand, she caressed your between the legs, slipping between your folds.

“Yes…” You said, gasping at her touch. “Please, mommy… I liked that spanking a lot, I want, I want you to fuck me.”

She laughed outrageously, as two of her fingers played at your entrance.

“My bad girl… Look what you've ended up with. In a silly girl, begging me to fuck her... How cute... It's a shame...”

“A shame?” You asked, panting and shifting, struggling against your restraints.

“Honey, you don't want to get away with it, do you?” She asked, removing her hand. You protested.

“What? Oh, come on…” You said, moving your hips, fighting for the contact you had before.

“Shhh, shhh,” the redhead whispered, moving a little above you. “Use your mouth for something else than to complain, (Y/N)… Now you have to please mommy… Then we'll talk…”

You nodded unable to speak, because she sat on top of you. You couldn't breathe, you didn't feel the air entering your lungs, you could only feel her.

Your arms moved as she moaned and rubbed against your mouth.

“Can't you breathe, my love? Oh, poor thing,” Marilyn said petulantly, letting you catch some air. “That's enough, (Y/N), stick out your tongue and make mommy happy…”

You obeyed, taking in all the air you could. You ran your tongue up and down, when and licking everything you found in your path. You were short of breath, but you were full of passion, of involuntary movements of your hips.

“My bad girl... I hope, ahh, I hope that's how you learn to... Oh... To behave well...” Marilyn moaned, moving faster against your face.

You moaned too. You were desperate, unable to move your arms, barely breathing, but the heat you felt between your legs managed to hide those inconveniences. Little by little, the redhead's movements intensified, becoming abrupt and disorderly, until finally, with a heartbreaking and very indiscreet moan, her entire body tensed, and you could feel how her humidity began to run your face.

“That was good, honey… Your filthy mouth is so good with mommy…”

You caught your breath.

“Yeah, I've done it, mommy... Now, please, I need you,” you said shaking your body. That didn't seem to matter to her, as she got up from the bed, reaching for something in a drawer of her dresser.

“Oh, fuck,” you said as you watched her putting a rather sizable strap on to her waist. Spreading a slippery liquid on her dildo, she approached you, with a tender smile, but also disturbing. “Hey, hey, that's really, really big, isn't it?”

She shook her head, saying nothing as she climbed back onto the bed. Your eyes lit up when her hands went to your restraints. When you felt released from the headboard, you sighed and smiled.

“Why are you smiling, bad girl?” She asked you, pouting.

“Because you've come to your senses, and you're going to untie me…” You said. Her face told you that this was not her intention at all.

“You're so sweet… Of course not, honey. You have to be tied down like the bad girl you are. I just want you to suffer your punishment from behind... Until you're a good girl I won't give you the pleasure of watching me fucking you.”

Saying that, she grabbed your waist roughly, turning you on the bed and tying you back to the headboard despite your resistance.

“Shhh…. Don't worry… Mommy will take care of you, honey,” she told you, lifting your abdomen, exposing you completely. “Mmm, how I like your body… I would be looking at you all day… So exposed, so defenseless.”

“Oh, fuck, Marilyn, do it once and for all,” you said, when you felt the tip of that huge object against your slippery folds.

“Careful what you wish for, honey…” She said, thrusting herself inside of you. You opened your eyes, noticing how your walls narrowed with difficulty, accommodating to size.

“Ah, damn, don't be so abrupt… It's… It's big… It hurts me…” You said hissing. Deep down, that little pain you felt only made you more aroused.

“What’s wrong, dear? Can't your little pussy handle mommy's dick? Oh what a lying girl... You're very brave on the outside, (Y/N), but you can't even stand me...”

“Shut up, I'm not used to something so... So...” You said, running out of voice when the pleasure began to run through your body. “Okay, okay, don't stop, keep going…”

She laughed, picking up her pace, gripping your hair tight as she moved with ease. The moans became more and more frequent.

You were completely at her mercy. Marilyn enjoyed, moving her hips gracefully against yours, guiding your body with her hands, digging her nails into your thighs.

You couldn't take it anymore. After a few thrusts and a few reminders about who you belonged to, you snapped, twitching and eyes squeezed shut.

“Damn… Marilyn, you're incredible,” you said, while the redhead untied you. She leaned over you and kissed you tenderly. Her expression was no longer that of the crazy domineering woman who took you mercilessly, it was the one she always had, the one you fell in love with.

“You know, (Y/N)? I don't want you to ever change…”She told you, bringing your head closer to her chest, letting you rest on it.

“Change what?”

“The way you are... I don't care how rebellious you are, I only care that you have a good heart... And I know you have it...”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #ms thornhill #oneshot #smut

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bleue-flora · 1 year ago

Note

I'm pretty sure c!Dream wanting c!Tommys trust was just to get the disk from him. Dreams tweet about it "help him with his goals"

I'm sure he didn't anticipate for c!tommys mental health to break down that much in exile so there would be a little bit of empathy thinking about his talk with c!punz. But majority of exile was him pretending to be c!tommys friend specifically to get c!tommy to hand him the disk. He didn't want c!tommy as an ally. The way he treated c!tubbo during the arc was very similar, pretending to be his friend until c!tubbo gave him that disk. It wouldn't make sense for c!dream to want to be allies with either of the two because he knew that without the separation of the two and him watching over, they would revert back to harming him again. c!dream wouldn't try to make allies with one of his enemies out of thin air knowing that they have different goals. His exile plan stopped when c!tubbo gave him the disk, and the disks allowed him to continue with the staged finale plan. And for the anon that brought up that early era truce, c!dream has no reason to trust c!tommy, they were constantly scamming each other back in the day theres an hour long vod of the two making fake disks and armors out of thinking the other will scam. I had to correct some of your past anons because some of them do not understand the motivation of exile.

For sure, I really don't think he thought or intended for Tommy's mental health to take such a dive. I think he was manipulating him obviously, but I don't think he was trying to break him. (I mean for starters because breaking people is not a good way to get what you want and Dream seems to know this, and plus Tommy spirals a whole lot without Dream's help so it doesn't seem intended...)

Anyways... I don't think Tommy has a disc, does he? I'm pretty sure Tubbo has one and Skeppy or Badboyhalo has one or something. So I don't that reasoning works. I do think he was probably trying to get the disc from Tubbo, but also I think his actions can be multifaceted. If his long term goal is a peaceful server and a big happy family, which we know is true because he damn well repeats it enough til the very end. Then forming a peaceful relations with Tubbo and L'manberg makes sense. Becoming Tommy's friend so he stops terrorizing the server, specifically his friends, makes sense. Tommy doesn't need Tubbo to get up to shenigans, he causes a lot of problems without Tubbo's involvement. Sure, Tubbo enables his behavior by usually having his back in the aftermath of those, where consequences of his actions come into play. But Tommy hurts Dream a whole even during Exile, no Tubbo needed and I don't think Tubbo ever seeks out to hurt Dream without it being apart of one of Tommy's schemes. In fact, Tubbo is actually the smart one usually trying to tell Tommy not to provoke Dream or do bad things. Tubbo is actually a very reasonable character, one I feel like without Tommy (and Wilbur by extension) and then later Quackity, he and Dream probably would have been allys or at least friends, more so than even Sapnap. Tubbo just wants to build things and be friends, he's not one to start conflict. In fact, despite Tubbo actually being the one to kill Dream in the cave in the beginning of the disc saga, he says in Daedalus that Tubbo might be one of the people who hasn't really done anything. And I think he kinda believes that, that Tubbo's actions have usually been lead by others or were reactions to things. I also think there is a difference especially in Dream's mind of ally and friend, I think later he still thinks Sapnap is his friend even is Sapnap is not longer his ally, so it doesn't seen unreasonable to me for him to try and become Tubbo's and Tommy's friend to get them to stop going after him all the time. Not that he actually expected them to become his allies and help him. There is a lot neutral ground between friend, ally and enemy, where he was perhaps trying to get Tommy and Tubbo similar to how he did with Sam later in Daedalus. So, it's perhaps less of trying to turn his enemy into ally out of thin air and more of how 'bout y'all just stop coming after me, which obviously didn't work since L'manberg started plotting to kill him.

Regardless, I think Dream's Exile plan ended the moment he planned to put himself in the prison, a good bit before Tubbo gave him the discs. At which time, he says this and I think it's pretty telling that perhaps his relations with L'manberg was not all disingenuous.

I don't know, it just sounds real to me. It sounds raw and betrayed and we know he was part of the plan in exploding the community house, so it's not about that like he frames it for the rest of the server. I think it more so has to do with the Green Festival, where they were quite literally about to backstab him. Making me think that the discs were a piece, but they weren't perhaps the whole focus during this time. That they didn't become the main focus until after he felt it necessary to get imprisoned and planned the staged finale.

I mean, is it so unreasonable to think that layered within his manipulation of Tommy and Tubbo, there was genuine yearning for friendship there? Can he not be logical and emotional? Strategic but also hopelessly optimistic? Just because Tommy doesn't think before he does, doesn't mean that characters can't have multiple plans and variables at play. It is so truly so unreasonable that what ended up happening wasn't Plan A, but Plan B, C, D... that he didn't start out with bad intentions, but was forced to constantly adjust based off circumstances.

#I mean I think we can all agree during this time he's falling apart why is the assumption that his plans were always malicious and always #what ended up happening... I mean if anything even just the dethronement is a great example of something not being his plan #but Sapnap and George walking out works to a plan anyways... sure it wasn't intended but he adapted and it was for the best in his mind...#c!discduo #c!tommy #c!tommyinnit #c!dream and c!tommy #dreblr #dream smp #c!dream #dsmp #did someone order an essay?#dsmpblr #dsmp analysis #no one does it like c!dream #hello there #anyways... lets just say agree to disagree on exile i guess. I think I've laid out my reasonings on exile and #you are welcome to disagree but I'm not sure what else I can say to convince you so um yea lets leave exile alone before i get canceled lol

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gretavangroupie · 2 years ago

Text

Valor (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Actions, Crying, Heavy Angst, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

“I want details.” You demanded, determined to understand at least why they were keeping you so involved.

They both gave you almost the exact same look, half-agitated and half-understanding they had to at least give you something. Jake cleared his throat first.

“My dad…passed away seven years ago, and when he did, he left behind more than this shop.” Jake drew on his cigarette, readjusting in his seat as he talked. “Ace had a bad gambling problem, so bad that it put him in more debt and more depression than I really ever knew about. He used to hold these poker games for fun, until he started losin’ money, and started making more enemies than he did friends. Shit started to go south really quick. Honestly, it was a lot worse then, than it is now. The law was involved, dirty cops were playin’ cards one night and harassing my dad the next, drifters started to come around and threaten him while he was working…it was an overall unsafe environment for me and Danny.” He went on.

“Wait.” You interrupted, trying to grasp everything. “Danny, you were always here?”

He nodded. “Yup, I uh, I started off in foster care, but…no one ever wanted to keep me. I was always getting into trouble and fightin’ in school… Jake was my best friend. I stayed here more than I stayed at home…most of the time my foster parents never even knew where I was. But Ace took care of me, when he could hardly even take care of Jake. So one day, it was Thanksgiving, I think. I just…never left. I was still just a kid. Started watching every move Ace made mechanicin’. Taught myself how to fix shit.” He ended the story with a harsh swallow. You knew that was something he didn’t share often.

You couldn’t help but smile, realizing a little bit more how close these two actually really were. Raised as brothers.

“So anyway, after my dad died, I was left with all this shit…all the money he owed to people fell into my lap. Not to mention all the other bullshit…the bills, the overdue payments, taxes…he was drowning then, and we’re drowning now.”

“And Teddy, he’s been playing cards here since I can remember.” Danny explained.

“Teddy…” you repeated.

“Yeah. He’s the one that called yesterday, he arranges the games. My dad owed him so much money, we’re still paying it back. We have to listen to him when he calls, we don’t have a choice. Every time we have a game and either of us wins, we give him the money. Right off the bat. It’s fuckin' horrible.”

“Well how long until he’s paid off?” You asked.

“We’ve barely even made a dent, unfortunately.” Jake said, tamping his cigarette out on the floor between his boots. “It’s rare that either of us win.”

“Okay, well things are making a little more sense, I guess…” you could tell they were holding back on all the details, probably sparing you from knowing too much at one time. “So where do I come in, why are you hiding me?”

Jake took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows down on his knees, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re collateral. You’re fresh meat. They know that if…they can get to you, they can use you.”

You felt your stomach drop to the floor. “Use me for what?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “To get to me.”

You looked back at Jake, staring each other down as you let it sink in. To get to me… You shook your head. “But that…doesn’t make any sense. Why would they think I mattered to you, at all?”

You watched a tiny grin form on both of their faces. “They know we’re protective. They know you’ve been hanging around us…and honestly, I bet they know you have money.” Danny chimed in. “Y/N, how much are you payin’ for your motel room?”

“Uh, thirty-five a night, why?” You answered.

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Jake sat back in his seat as he and Danny exchanged knowing looks of ‘thought so.’

“Wanda.” Danny said, his voice seething.

“I thought it was steep, but she didn’t give me a choice in the room, said it was all she had—”

“I bet she watched you pull your cold hard cash from your wallet, too, didn’t she?” Danny asked. “Watched you count it out?”

“Y-yeah…so?”

“So,” Jake tried to explain. “Wanda is friends with Teddy’s crew. Christ…She fuckin' told them you had money…they sent Tanya down here to get concrete evidence you were with us…that’s why he called the poker game. They want your money, Y/N. On top of our money. And they know that they can get paid a whole lot quicker if they get a hold of you…they know we would pay up if it was you on the line…”

Your eyes were stuck open at all of the information, trying to soak everything in as it was fed to you.

“Me on the line…so, so you’re saying they might try to…to kidnap me? Hold me for ransom or something?” You could hardly get the words out.

Danny nodded slowly while Jake massaged his palms. “Or worse.”

“Worse? What the fuck could be worse?!” You yelled, leaning off of the countertop. Danny stood from the chair, walking over to calm the storm he knew was brewing inside you. You felt him wrap his arms slowly around your neck, in a completely non-sexual way, knowing that if you needed to feel anything right now, it was comfort.

“We don’t intend on letting you find out. And we don’t intend on giving them the satisfaction of winning like that.” He said, his voice laced with promise. You opened your eyes and peered over Danny’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jake as he nodded his head in agreement.

“I’ve only been here for like two days, guys…you don’t owe me anything, I just want to get the hell out of here, I never wanted to bring all this trouble…” you felt like you were on the verge of tears, feeling guilty that you inadvertently made their situation worse.

“You didn’t bring any trouble, Y/N. They’re bad men with bad reputations and shit lives. Teddy’s going to die wanting to bring me strife. It’s like he gets off on the shit…” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the wall behind you. Danny let go of your shoulders.

“What, Jake? What is it?” His eyes were glued to the calendar that hung on the wall behind you.

“Nothing. Today Saturday?” His face had gone completely white, stark as the smoke that bellowed from his cigarette.

“Yeah, it is…” Danny took your hands in his. “I know it’s fucked, Y/N. It’s so fucked. And I’m so sorry you got dragged into this mess. I know you want to leave, but don’t you agree that the best place for you right now is with us? We can protect you…we know how their minds work…I’d feel so much better if you just, didn’t go back to the motel…”

He was pleading with you, and honestly at this point, you’d be terrified to be alone in that motel after learning everything you learned tonight, especially that Wanda had been snitching on your every fucking move. Bitch.

You nodded, agreeing with Danny. As pissed off, insulted, and sick as it made you, you felt like you had no choice but to agree. “Alright. If it’s for my safety…I’ll stay here. But I’m not going to like it.” You were going to love it, as fucked as it was. “But honestly, how long? You’ve already been paying him off for 7 years…”

“Just until we figure something out. Until we fix your car, then you can disappear and let the wind carry you away, straight to Atlanta.” Danny answered with a true and genuine frown. He didn’t want you to leave.

“Okay. But I have a couple conditions.”

They both looked at you with puzzled expressions. “You clean your disgusting, repulsive bathroom, and you both wash your sheets. Please. For the love of god.”

Sweet, sexy laughs escaped them both as they conceded, relaxing back in their chairs. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Danny said, holding his hand out to shake yours. “It’s a deal, Miss Thing.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll even make dinner tonight, for your troubles.” You offered, knowing there wasn’t much in the cabinets, but you were confident you could whip something up.

Jake stood from his chair, still looking a little pekid from whatever he noticed about the calendar earlier. He held his hand out to shake yours, too. “One clean bathroom, coming up.”

You began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, finding a few potatoes and some bologna. Hmm, when all else fails, fry it.

You pulled some oil from the cabinet, and laid out six pieces of the almost-expired bread hidden away on the counter. This will have to do.

You’d come into this shop two and a half days ago, feeling uneasy, anxious, and unsure…and now you sat here with two of your oldest classmates as they transformed their home and business into a fortress for you to stay in, using themselves as a protective shield from the bad guys who were vying for you.

But it didn’t feel wrong staying with Danny…you liked him. You liked him a lot. And with Jake…you felt…drawn to him. Both of them. But there was something about Danny’s touch that made you crave him; him leaving you hanging in the motel room earlier was enough to make you so sexually frustrated that you resented him for a second.

The image of him lying on top of you under the covers was all you could think about, and you were absolutely dying to get him back in bed. The way his long, dark locks laid across his shoulders and reached all the way down to past the middle of his back, his defined features and strong jawline…the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled… all of it was stuck in your brain, burning little images that replayed over and over.

He felt different than Peter, that much you could tell even after just the brief encounter you’d had. Like he would let you be in charge instead of only trying to appease his every little fantasy.

And his lips on yours? Like the buzzing end of an electric wire, you could physically feel them still when he parted from you. The way his tongue felt in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips… yeah. It was decided. You wouldn’t be joining Jake in his bed again tonight.

—

JAKE POV

The smell was familiar. One you recognized deep down in your bones. A smell that transported you back in time. You pulled your sheets from the washing machine, the lid black and dirty which was kind of ironic. You tossed them into the dryer, starting it up as the smell lured you into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time someone that wasn’t you made a meal in this kitchen.

You wiped your bleach-scented hands across your pants, the smell of lemon bathroom cleaner and Comet stuck in your nose. You realized your hands were cleaner than they’d been in probably years, after scrubbing away at the black ring in the bathtub. You could actually see the whiteness of your fingernails.

As you rested your hands on a kitchen chair, you peered over to the stove watching Y/N finish frying up a pan of diced potatoes. Your stomach growled and your mouth watered as you watched her, completely unknowing you were standing behind her.

Danny steps out of the hallway and into the kitchen, his voice startling both of you. “Damn, it smells good in here. I’m starving.” He walks up behind Y/N, peeking over her shoulder as his hand squeezes her hip. He turns to grab a few paper plates, placing them on the counter for her before taking a seat in the old wooden chair.

You swung around and sat yourself in your own chair, once again letting your eyes drift over to the calendar on the wall. Seven years today. Seven years, Ace. You lean on your fist, twirling the worn metal zippo between your fingers. Rubbing your thumb over the engravings, hand carved by the man himself. It was all you really had left of him, taking it from his pocket that day, giving it a home in yours ever since. Your heart sank the more you thought about it, which is why you didn’t ever let yourself. You always did everything in your power to forget this day, never give it the chance to crush you like this, but this year, lucky number seven… It got you.

“Alright, it’s ready!” she said, spinning around with two paper plates filled with fried potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches. That was it. That was the smell. Fried bologna. Your dad’s fucking favorite. Of course, today of all days.

“Shit this looks good, haven't had fried bologna in forever!” Danny says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. She grabs her own plate and sits between the two of you, stabbing her fork into a potato as you just stare down at the plate in front of you. You’re stuck. Frozen. Your stomach telling you to eat but your mind suddenly rushing with memories you’d pushed down for years. It hurt. They hurt.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself you picked up the sandwich, and held it to your mouth, slowly taking a bite as Y/N and Danny chatted about nothing. You wished you could turn off the instant replay in your mind of the last time you sat at this table eating with your dad. It hit you like a ton of bricks that now felt as if they settled in the pit of your stomach.

The thing about Ace though, was that he never really told you how to live your life. He just let you live it watching him, and hoping you’d learn from his mistakes. What you didn’t expect, was that his mistakes would in turn become your own burden. You hated him for what he did. You hated that he left you to clean up his mess. You hated that you no longer had a family of your own. Just Daniel, and Daniel, you. That was okay though, the two of you had each other and that was better than nothing. You weren’t sure you’d ever forgive Ace, not for leaving you, but for letting your mother leave you before you ever even got a chance to know her. That was unforgivable.

You finished the last bite of your sandwich, completely spaced out as you stared off at the wall, just letting the memories ravage your consciousness, when suddenly it all just felt like too much. You started to feel suffocated by the thoughts, the room you were in suddenly feeling too hot, and too small. Your chest started to tighten and your throat felt small. You pushed your chair back and snatched your plate from the table, tossing it in the trash can as you offered a quick ‘thank you’ to Y/N. Your feet carried you out into the garage, as your hands found the light switch.

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights calmed you a bit. Your eyes caught sight of Valor, and huff of air left your chest. A pristine 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Hardtop, Tuxedo Black with a standard 396 Horsepower engine, all hidden under a dusty beige colored canvas tarp.

Just keep your mind busy. Do what you know. You walked over to the covered car, letting your hand hover over the cover, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and yanking it off with a scream. Your eyes took her in, she was pretty, you’d give her that, but hell, maybe you would be too if someone spent all their time fixing you up. Ace sure did. Throw the football? ‘No son, we have to get Valor running. Don’t you want to hear her purr?’ You can still hear his voice perfectly, as he says it.

You slip your hand into the polished chrome handle, pulling the door open and sliding into the white vinyl bucket seat. It hugged you in just the right way, making the driver feel like they were part of the car. One with it. You grabbed the keys from the center console, sticking them into the ignition and twisting. The engine roared to life. He’d at least gotten that far, and he was right, she sure did sound pretty when she purred. But the problem is that she wouldn’t stay running. She’d run for a little while, and out of nowhere, she’d die. And that’s where he left her, sitting right here in the middle of this garage, covered and ashamed. You could barely look at it most days, leaving the cover on for months at a time until the feeling struck, and you needed to get your anger out. You’d completely tear apart the front end, combing through every single piece searching for something, anything that could be wrong, but every time you came up empty.

Like clockwork, she died. The smell of the carpet and old vinyl filling your senses the way it always had. A suffocating blend of raw gasoline and rich exhaust, with overtones of hot Castrol. You lived for it, in fact it was all you ever really knew. It brought you to life most days, the process of working on cars satisfying your need to fix. To tinker. To solve. You ripped the keys from the ignition and slammed the door shut behind you. The black paint was so perfectly shiny you could see your own reflection. You tossed the keys into your pocket and let your legs carry you up the metal steps to your desk, opening the till, and fingering through the stacks of cash.

You instinctively grab for a twenty, knowing it’s more than enough to cover your usual selection but shit, tonight was a celebration right? You’re getting the good shit tonight. Just for you Ace. Just like you’d do, right? You snatch a fifty from the register, slamming it shut with a ding as your feet stomp down the metal stairs and back through the house. As you cross through the kitchen you grab your keys from the counter, with the fifty still in hand, receiving puzzled looks from Y/N and Daniel.

You meet her eyes as you watch hers drift down to the cash in your hand, an instant look of confusion crossing her face. You crumpled it up in your hand as soon as you knew she saw it, stuffing the bill in your jeans pocket.

You know what Daniel wants to say, but you know he’s not stupid enough to say it. Her though, she has no idea, and you know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Your eyes meet hers again for the briefest second and you wonder if she can see the pain in your eyes before you look away and head for the front door.

—

It’s not long until you’re pulling up at the QuikStop, pulling the barred door open as the bell chimes overhead. “Well then, what’ve we got here Jacob?” old man Johnson says, taking in your appearance. “Need you a top off tonight, son?” he snickers. You tip your chin in acknowledgement as you make your way to the back wall lined with a small assortment of different liquors. Your eyes scan over the offerings, stopping short when you catch sight of the good stuff. You grab the red waxed neck of the Maker’s Mark, and make your way to the counter to purchase your poison of the evening. You were typically a Seagram’s 7 man, but tonight you were pretty much feeling like a Maker’s man, considering your body was about to filled to the brim with it. fucking anything to stop the noise in your head.

“My my, this’s not ‘chur usual, son.” he grins, knowing you’re about to fork out a pretty penny.

“Should get the job done, you think?” you remark, pulling the fifty from your jeans pocket.

“Mighty fine this one is. Quell yer troubles, it sure will.” he says, taking it from your fingers. He gives you back a few small bills and loose coins that you shove into your pants pocket, snatching the bottle from the counter before he even has a chance to place it in a paper bag. “You have yeh’s a good night Jacob.” he calls out as your foot steps out the door into the thick humid air.

—

HER POV

“Thank you for dinner.” You felt Danny’s breath on the back of your neck as you scrubbed the frying pan. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a cooked meal in this place?”

His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder, making your neck crane sideways. “S’hardly a meal, Danny. Just thought you might’ve wanted somethin’ hot for a change.”

You turned to face him, scratching your nails up his pecs before wrapping your arms around his neck, hands still wet from the sink. “Mmm, I do want somethin’ hot.” His hands were under your thighs, fingertips burying in before lifting you up to sit on the countertop. He was just the right height to pull you forward a little, pressing himself directly against your core. Just that feeling alone made you weak, and hearing his harsh inhale from the contact spurred you on even more.

You kissed him, hard, feeling that want from earlier come crashing back into you again. His hands stayed on your thighs, his finger span covering almost the entirety of your skin. You both allowed yourselves time to explore again, letting things heat up like they had before. His hand moved up to grip your hair, pulling it backwards as he trailed his mouth down your throat, nipping and biting tiny marks as he did so.

Suddenly the temperature of the room increased tenfold and you felt your body begging you to do something, make another move. You maneuvered your hips to press yourself against him, his length feeling hard and stiff against you now. The guttural moan that escaped him sounded so carnal you could’ve taken him right then and there, but the risk of being caught was still heavy in your mind.

“Wait… Jake could be back any minute…” you choked out, glancing to the metal door.

“Guess we better fuckin' get to it, then.” He buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the counter, carrying you through the kitchen and to his bedroom with ease. He kicked the door closed behind him as he drifted slowly to his bed, your mouths and hands still ripping at each other.

His knee hit the mattress and he lowered you down with a bounce, immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. Without disconnecting your mouths, your hands anxiously fumbled around at his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans. It was like all shyness had left your body as you felt no shame in letting your hand grip his shaft, your hands burning to know what he felt like without the barrier of his boxers.

“Fuck Y/N…I want you so bad…” he almost laughed at himself, pushing your shoulder back into the pillows.

“Mmm, I can tell.” You grinned as your hand moved up and down his length, growing harder by the second. He rolled over and pulled his jeans off before towering over you again, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra in one swift motion. Your hand found him again, and this time you noticed just how much you were about to be dealing with. You weren’t sure your ever had someone his size before, and it made you fuckin' excited.

Your mouths were connected in such a way that you felt like you’d never separate; both of you completely taken with the way the other tasted. Your hands came up to grip his face, running your fingers over his cheeks. “Can you please take that fuckin' ring off your finger? If I’m gonna fuck you I don’t want to be thinkin’ about you and another man.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten you even had it on. You hesitated a second, knowing that it didn’t mean shit to you anymore, but something told you not to throw it away. You slid it off and placed it on the nightstand, out of sight and definitely out of mind.

“Thank you. Now…let me see your body again, baby…” he mumbled, sitting back on his knees to pull your jeans and panties off. “You’re fuckin' stacked, you know that?”

Your mouth contorted into a devious grin, having never heard a man talk about you like this before. Peter never praised you, never complimented you or your looks, only took what he could get then fell asleep.

Danny made you feel beautiful, made you feel empowered…his eyes stayed bewitched as he scanned from your thighs to your tits, all the way to your face again before leaning his mouth down, licking directly over your mound and up your stomach.

His hands gripped around your hips, his fingertips gripping your asscheeks while his thumbs reached all the way to your groin…his hands were massive. He tilted his hands so that you were forced to arch, inadvertently spreading your legs apart a little as he did so. Just that movement alone made you feel used and in charge at the same time; just the sight of your body was sending him over the edge with want for you, and you liked it.

His eyes met yours again, rushed and frenzied as he silently asked permission. You nodded a little, halfway unsure of what he was asking.

“You taste as good as you look, baby?” He began to lay his body flat on his stomach between your legs, his hands pressing your muscles in that special way again, to make the display all the more visual for him. “You’re fuckin' soaked, god I bet you’re so sweet…” he muttered, running his tongue up and down the insides of your legs.

You held back a little. You were absolutely dying for him to bury his face in you, but again, this was something that Peter had only done once or twice for you, and that was only because you’d asked him to. Essentially, this was new territory. A brand new experience, really. Coming from someone who actually wanted to do it.

His tongue was traveling around still, teasing…exploring. “Can I taste you?” He asked, his deep brown eyes flickering up to yours as you anxiously let a hand down to grip in his hair. You nodded quickly, a barely audible ‘yes’ slipping from your lips. “Please.”

When his tongue finally buried in between your folds, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life…obviously Peter had been doing it all wrong. His tongue buried, his lips enclosed around you…hitting all the right spots with such precision you felt like you were in the clouds. The burning, fiery, thunder-storming clouds. Your hand gripped his hair tighter as he pushed inside you, lapping his tongue side to side and up and down and pulling out again, then working tiny circles around your clit.

You realized you’d been holding your breath the second Danny popped up, laughing a little bit. “Breathe, baby.” You could feel the peach fuzz around his mouth scratching against you as he smiled through his words, but it felt good. An added bonus, the slightly painful irritation making it feel even better as he glided side to side.

You listened to his instruction as you let yourself inhale, his low growl giggle vibrating through your body. “God damnit, Danny…what the…” your knees came up around his ears, your thighs squeezing him together as you neared that sweet feeling beginning to take over your entire body. His hands were still gripped tightly around your hips and ass, holding you steadily exactly where he wanted you.

Fuck, you loved feeling out of control.

But then, suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more. He began to bring his hand around to add his fingers, lightly toying at your entrance with his fingertips.

“No, no.” You commanded, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’s wrong, you okay?” He perked up.

You pulled him up by his hair, urging him to kiss you again. “Yes I’m fine. Didn’t want you to do that, yet. I wanna feel you. It ruins the surprise.” You muttered through exhausted pants, kissing away the wetness that covered his face.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed look of intrigue flowing over him. “Oh, fuck…alright then.”

You pushed him off you to lie flat on his back, completely caught off guard by the switch. “Take them off.” You demanded, but also reaching for the hem of his boxers yourself, to speed up the process.

Once they were in a pile beside you, you hopped to all fours and placed one hand on either side of his head as his hands drifted from your back to your hips again. He was fighting himself, bucking his hips up into you as he tried to make contact.

“Let me do it. Wanna feel every inch.” You spoke again, letting him know you were on top, you were calling the shots. His facial expression was already fucked out, still shining with the wetness from your arousal…you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. You reached between you, gripping his considerable length in your hand again as he tossed his head back with a groan. Your eyes caught the way the ink danced across his neck as it pulled tight. The spider web that stretched across his throat was so intricate, you felt caught in the web yourself. He clenched his jaw together when he finally looked at you, reaching a hand up to grip your hair back away from falling in his face.

“Wanna see your face, baby. Do it, please, fuck…” he was writhing beneath you, and you could already tell he was going to be the lay of a lifetime. You teased your own entrance with his tip, tracing your wetness all around. When you finally lined up, you prepared yourself to take him in, knowing it had been a while, and this was going to be a stretch.

You went slowly, feeling every centimeter enter you, the pain so sweet and so engulfing. When you finally bottomed out, he choked out a huffed sound so beautiful you wished you had it on film, the feeling of him all the way inside you so snug, he felt like he belonged there.

“Jesus Christ Y/N…my god…” he purred, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips as you sat back up, slowly beginning a pace that you knew was going to absolutely kill you. He was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the perfect size, attached to the perfect body…his eyes finally looked up at you long enough to share a moment. His abdomen crunched in on itself when you bottomed out again, the top of his head resting on your shoulder as his hands guided you up and down.

You finally let yourself find a rhythm, leaning into him and flicking your hips back as you sped up. You let your cries fill the room; suddenly you couldn’t care less if Jake walked in on you right now. It was heavenly, perfect in every sense of the word, and your insides were swirling and begging you to never let yourself stop.

“God, please don’t stop, Y/N…right there…” he purred again, gripping your hair back as you rode him into oblivion. You leaned back a little, resting one hand on his thigh behind you while the other one balanced on his sternum. Your fingers danced dangerously close to another tattoo, one you hadn’t seen before. A scattering of words in German sat delicately over his heart. You wanted to ask him what it said, but you were scared to know, based on the location.

You felt him deep inside, simply rolling your hips forward and back as you let him take a look at the show. You felt him hitting you deeper this way, eliciting a whine from you that you were borderline embarrassed about. His hand shot to your core, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he bucked up again. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N…I swear…”

His praises tightened the knot that was already building inside you, the sound of him coming apart beneath you was enough to get you off by itself. Just as you were about to let it all go, you leaned down over him again, your mouth burying in his neck, biting into him as your sounds became more and more strangled, the overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure ripping through your body.

The buildup was insane, it felt like it lasted for hours. You guessed he could tell that you were close as he began thrusting up into you, too. “Yeah baby…go for it…let me have it…”

The white light that encompassed your entire being came flashing before your eyes, your teeth clenching into the skin of his pec as you came undone, shaking with what had to have been the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to say his name, scream it into the air, let him know how good he felt inside you, but you couldn’t form a coherent word even if you wanted to. Everything went numb and dull for a split second as you came down, panting and crying out choked sounds as you relaxed. You continued riding him, though…wanting to bring him to his delicious climax too.

“I’m close baby please, please don’t stop…” he begged, and suddenly his stomach was clenching, his dick twitching deep inside you still as he pulled you up off of him, grabbing himself in his hand to let his release flow over his hand and onto your stomach. You watched as his hand worked over his length, his eyes fixed on you as he came down, and slowed his hand.

His eyebrows shot together as his facial expression showed you how good it felt, how pretty you looked with his cum on you… it wasn’t something you had ever let a man do before, but you swore in that second that if he made you feel that way for the rest of forever, you’d let him do just about whatever he damn well pleased.

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at one another, laughing and completely out of breath.

“Christ, you were even better than I imagined, baby…” he huffed, letting his hands fly to either side of his body, careful not to drop the mess that was in his right hand. You laughed as you plopped down beside him, grinning from ear to ear as you left the afterglow set in.

“I’ve never had a man make me feel so good in my life, Danny. I swear.” You admitted.

“Really? Even when you did that to them?” He perked up in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yeah, really. There were a couple of firsts in there.”

His eyebrows raised up. “Fuck… Well, I’m telling you, I never would’ve guessed that, baby. You are spectacular. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you like that.” He brought his face close to yours to lay a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips.

You smiled sweetly back as he pulled away, looking back at you with the sweetest smirk as he made his way to the bathroom, and you suddenly found yourself completely unable to pull your lust filled eyes away from the perfect roundness of his ass.

——

“This one okay?” You asked Danny, pulling an oversized t-shirt from his drawer. It was a dingy white and filled with holes and rips, but the fabric felt soft and comfortable.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He smirked, laid out across his bed in nothing but his loose-fitting gray boxers, strumming away on a black acoustic guitar. His eyes had been transfixed on the wall across from you before you interrupted him…his fingers mindlessly crawling across the 6-string, plucking out a solemn little tune that wasn’t familiar.

You crawled back up next to him on the bed, reaching across him to his nightstand to grab his box of smokes. “What are these, anyway?” You asked, opening the top flap.

“…Not what the box says they are.” He let out a sweet laugh. “I roll my own. I blend together a few different types of tobacco to get the flavor I want.”

“Hm. That’s why yours always smell so much better than Jake’s, then?” You asked, pulling one out and running it underneath your nose. “They smell sweet…”

“Mmhm. Taste good too. Try it.” He let go of the neck of the guitar for a second, reaching to his table to grab his lighter. He flicked the ignitor and produced a flame for you, watching you intently as you brought the end of the cigarette to it, inhaling the sweet aroma into your lungs. Damn, he was right.

“That’s really tasty…” you licked your lips together. “Even the paper is kinda sweet.” You hit it again before passing it back to him.

“Yeah. Took me a while to get it just right. Came from stealin’ Ace’s half empty bags mostly.” He laughed at the memory.

You tucked a pillow up under your arm as he began to play again, the cigarette hanging from his lips as the ash grew longer. His inked hands looked sinful dancing across the strings, and he was so natural at it. You caught a glimpse of the red and black triple’s 7’s tattooed on the inside of his pointer finger, and for some reason, you were sure you’d not seen it before.

“Triple 7’s, huh?” You thought you had a pretty good idea of what it symbolized, but you wanted to see what his reasoning was.

“Yeah, symbolizes good fortune and luck.” He pulled the smoke from his lips, tamping it out on the ashtray on the table. “Doesn’t really seem to be doin’ the job too well, does it?” He ended his sentence with a wink. “Not til’ you waltzed through the door at least.”

You began fingering with a loose string on his boxers. “I thought it meant the Holy Trinity...”

“Means that too, I guess. But I stopped bein’ religious a long time ago.”

The two of you were quiet a while, just the occasional sound of Jake banging around in the shop mixed with Danny’s tune to fill the air.

“How long you been playin’?” You asked.

His voice was getting groggy, sleep threatening him as the minutes ticked by. “Since I was 5 or 6 I guess, one of my foster families had one and I remember realizing it made a really pretty noise… I’d pick it up and run to my room and strum away on it to drown out the sound of them fighting. Seemed to help me not hear it. Then I started to actually like the way it felt in my hands…”

You were quiet for a second. “That why you play your music so loud now?”

His fingers stopped altogether as his eyes met yours. His face slowly contorted into a million different emotions at once before he looked back to the wall again, gently picking up where he left off.

“Fuck, yeah…I guess it is…”

“Jake play guitar too?” You tried to change the subject once you realized you had maybe hit a little too close to home with your question.

He shook his head. “No, he plays harmonica like the damned devil, though. Only does it every once in a while, but shit…he’s good at it. Every now and then we’ll get on a good drunk and play together to a big audience of ourselves.” He smiled sideways as he turned to look at you.

“Maybe y'all can play for me sometime.” Your fingertips were sliding along the hem of his boxers.

He sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “We’d love to play for you…” his eyes had started bouncing around each feature on your face, taking you in again as he moved himself closer. He pressed his lips into yours again, sweet and soft and mellow. “You know I’m gonna be thinking of you on top of me all the time now…gonna want it all the time…” he groaned through broken kisses. “Fuck… I don’t think you even know how gorgeous you looked…”

You pressed your tongue between his lips again, the sudden new movements hitting the strings of the guitar causing them to make a crazy scratching noise. “I’ll ride you whenever the hell you want, Danny…” you breathed, huffing a breath into his mouth. And you meant it, too.

Just as things started to get heated again, you heard Danny’s radio in the bay shoot up to 11. It was followed by a loud metallic bang, and the sound of a loud engine starting up. It startled you, and you sat up to look at the door.

“Fuck.” Danny said shortly, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“What was that? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, no. No, he’s not. But, we’ve just gotta—” he sputtered. You slid yourself across the bed, moving toward the door as you heard another loud thud echo through the bay.

“What is he doing?!” you urge.

“He’s drunk. He’s trying to fix Valor.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Valor? The fuck is Valor?” you ask.

“The fuckin' car his dad left em.” he answers. “Only touches it when he's wasted.”

“How do you know, does he do this often?” You stood at the foot of Danny’s bed, throwing your hip out as you crossed your arms. Suddenly you heard Jake’s loud voice yelling along to the first verse of ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger. “My god, is he singing?!”

Danny sat up and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “Y/N, listen. Every so often, Jake will go on a bender, and when he does it, he does it right. It was Ace’s dying wish for Jake to fix that car, and the only way he can bring himself to touch it, is if he’s out of his mind intoxicated. So, we just gotta let him do it. He’ll be fine, just gotta get it out of his system.”

Wait. “So he has to be fucked up before he can even pop the hood?” This wasn’t making sense.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, this is just how he works through it.”

“Danny, that is an extremely unhealthy way for him to be dealin’ with this…” you said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and huffed out a breath, his expressions saying nothing more than it is what it is.

Another bang and more loud sing-shouting bellowed off the walls again, and you decided you’d had it. You yanked the door open, and made your way out into the shop, seeing Jake looking a complete and total mess as he dipped his head low inside the belly of Valor. A cigarette rested between his lips as both of his hands disappeared deep down in the engine.

“Ain’t it unsafe to have an open flame that close to motor oil?!” You yelled, grabbing his attention. He perked up, his eyes a deep dark black that you hadn’t seen before. There was a scowl on his face and his nostrils flared when he looked at you, absolutely absorbed in the hatred and madness he must be currently full of. “Why are you out here makin’ all this racket?” You yelled over the music.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and stomping it out as the smoke drifted from his lips. “None of your fuckin' business.” You watched as his eyes glanced toward Danny’s room. “Get back in there and let your boyfriend serenade you to sleep.” He slurred, pulling a socket wrench from his kit.

“Agh!” You had a knee-jerk reaction to his words. “He’s not my boyfriend…” you crossed your arms across your chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake raised his hands into the air. “Whatever! Don’t care!” He shoo’d you away with a flick of his wrist, and buried his face back into the engine, screaming the words loudly again. “Here I gooooo, on the road again!”

You decided that seeing him like this, for the reason he was like this, wasn’t going to fly if you had anything to do with it. You stomped over to the other side of the hood, standing until he felt you watching.

“God damnit!” He yelled, dropping the tool to the floor beneath the car. When he stood back up he met your eyes again. He reached down beside his foot, pulling up a large glass bottle of liquor, taking it straight to the head.

A handle of Maker’s. He had gone to the liquor store earlier…but where did he get the cash for something like that…?

Oh, fuck. The fifty you saw him shove in his pocket. With the red X over Grant.

“You used my goddamn money to buy that, didn’t you?” You spat as he swallowed, wiping the excess drips from his chin with the back of his dirty hand. “The fifty you had earlier, you took it and spent it on this?!” You were enraged. He was supposed to be using that to buy your parts.

“Again, it’s none of your fuckin' business, Y/N!” He was spitting and slurring his words, his face red with anger and drunkenness.

“No, it is my business! That’s my money you’re drinking away right now! That’s so fucked, Jake!” You were yelling at him now. “What do you think, I’m just gonna slide you an extra fifty for your trouble?!”

He snarled his nose up, taking another swig. “Screw you, Y/N. Get the fuck out of my face.”

You stepped toward him now, your entire body raging with madness that you just couldn’t qualm. “Why don’t you yell at me, Jake. Huh? Yell at me. Take it out on me, instead of the void. You want something to be mad at? Try me…” you hit yourself in the chest a couple times, trying to get him to have the reaction you were hoping for, probably looking mighty intimidating standing there barefoot in nothing but Danny’s t-shirt.

He stepped back away from you. “What? Why…”

“Jake, almost half of the bottle is gone. Did you go somewhere and drink before you came back? Why are you—“

“Y/N, nobody fuckin' asked for the twenty questions. Can you go the fuck back to Daniel and let me do this?! Please.” He ignored you again, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he had tears welling in his eyes. There was a long pause in the conversation. He just needed to talk…

“What if I don’t want to?” You said, your voice as meek as possible over the volume of the radio.

That confused him. “What if I want to stay here and help you?”

“You can’t help me, Y/N.” His face fell as he slammed a wrench back into the top drawer of the kit. “Nobody can.”

“Can you let me try?” You pleaded.

He looked directly at you, and you watched as his face softened a bit. He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall again before taking another big swig of the liquor. You leaned in, yanking the bottle from his hand, tilting it back and taking a long shot, yourself. You winced as the hot liquor went down your throat before leaning your elbows down on the panel of the car, looking down inside it at what he was working on. Thankfully a slower, quieter song had come across the radio.

“Now, what are we dealing with, here?” You asked, hoping he’d catch the double entendre. “Tell me all about it…”

He replaced his dirty hands back down into the front end, twisting something loose as he cleared his scratchy throat.

“It’s been seven years. Seven years today.” He said quietly as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Seven years since…?”

“Since my dad…died.” He was biting his cheeks in over and over.

“What happened, Jake?” You leaned in a little closer, brushing some dust off the top of the engine.

Jake leaned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sheets of folded up notebook paper, dirty and torn from being in the hands and pocket of a mechanic. You took it gently from his hand, and slowly opened it.

‘April 22, 1975’. You read to yourself before scanning the rest of the hand-written note. You felt your heart sink as the words clicked in your mind.

“Jake, is this?”

“My dad’s suicide note. Yeah. Wrote it seven years ago today.” He replied, turning a socket wrench over and over as he avoided eye contact with you. “Left it for me on my nightstand while I was asleep.”

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Fuck. You hadn’t realized that was how he passed. You swallowed hard before even trying to speak again. “So you…you found him?”

Jake brought the bottle to his lips again, swallowing it down before passing it to you. You tilted it up, and did the same. He nodded, barely any movement in his body now. “Yeah.” His eyes were blank as they stared at the block in front of him.

You took a chopped breath. Maybe…maybe he just needs to get it out…hell. You were no psychologist.

Finally you spoke barely above a whisper. “Where was he?”

Jake was biting the sides of his cheeks in hard, his gaunt face pulled into itself as the dark circles shadowed even more in the dim light. His eyes looked dead into yours, deep and blank, before flicking up to the ceiling behind you, then back to yours.

You turned around slowly following his line of vision, seeing the high exposed rafter in the lofted ceiling.

Fucking hell.

You turned back, your eyes closed as your hands found your face, tears fighting to spring out as the image of the rafter sat burned in your brain. Jesus.

“Jake, I-I’m so…I didn’t mean for you to have to think about that again, that must have been…” you could hardly find the words to apologize, to empathize with him, with what he must have gone through that day, finding his dad like that. Gone through every day since. There were no words. There never would be any words. “I’m so sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“S’okay. In the past, now. What’s done is done.” He shrugged, nipping the bottle again.

“But you were just a kid, Jake…”

“Yeah, I was. Not a damn clue in the world. Had to do the growin’ up a man does in twenty years that very day.” You watched as a tiny tear escaped the outside corner of his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “Left me with absolutely fuckin' nothin except a couple thousand dollars, that note, this fuckin' shit hole building, and every bad debt he ever had. But I had Danny with me. And Bubba. Danny was only…only fourteen.”

You felt your heart physically breaking into a million pieces for him, for both of them, thinking back to them being young teenagers and having to deal with that basically on their own…

“I’m glad you had them with you.” You agreed.

He nodded, his eyes turning red. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if Danny wasn’t here. Hell, his voice had barely even changed and he was helping me plan our dad’s funeral after he got home from school. But you know, he never even faltered. Kid took care of me better than I took care of myself those few weeks after. Forced me to eat, kept my mind busy…” you watched as he replayed the memories, probably running through them all in his head like watching them on an old projector screen.

“He basically kept the shop running while I stayed away from the world in my bedroom. I don’t even…” he shook his head as he collected himself. “People brought us food, Bubba was here every single day making sure we were okay…but Danny did it all. I don’t even know how he did it, he was a baby. Fuckin' workhorse…always has been.”

He took a second to rub his dirty hands over his tired eyes. “I don’t…we don’t have anybody, Y/N. No family at all.”

You reached out and cupped your hand over his, squeezing it hard as you let him talk. “Danny’s your brother.”

“In everything but blood.” He licked his lips, turning his hand over to hold yours back. You smiled, letting him know you were still here to listen, if he wanted to continue…even if it was just the whiskey giving him confidence.

“So you basically raised Danny, after that…” you relented.

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Yeah, I guess, kinda. I dropped out of school right before graduation, but. Made sure he made it through senior year and all that. Honestly he raised me more than I did him, if I think about it.” He smirked a little. “We learned it all together.”

His eyes completely closed and he leaned his entire body weight down on his elbows. “Teddy…Teddy was uh, in love with my mom…before I was born.” His eyebrows raised and he laid more information out on the table for you.

“What?!”

He swigged the bottle again. “Yup. S’why he hated my dad so much. They were both vying for her at the same time…guess Ace swept her off her feet somehow.”

“Is that why he hates you so badly?” You were starting to put the pieces together. “He sees your mom in you?”

He nodded again. “Exactly. He’s still punishing me for what my dad did to him. Or my mom, whatever. I never asked for details. That’s why he’s still after me for my dad’s money. Still heartbroken and fucked up over somethin’ that went down before I was even born. The son of a bitch.”

“That’s not fuckin' fair, Jake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe.” He clicked his tongue and sent you a wink.

He squeezed your hand a few times before releasing it, and walked over to plop himself down in one of the dirty lawn chairs against the wall of the shop. You followed suit, sitting beside him in the other chair as you curled your legs up and pulled Danny’s shirt over your knees.

“Tell me about Ace. Was he a funny guy?” You asked, trying to get him through his anguish. He grinned a little, hastily wiping his eyes again.

“Yeah, when he wanted to be. He was always full of dumb jokes and one-liners. But he stayed quiet most of the time, buried himself in his work. Till things went south with my mom, they got into drugs for a little bit. Nothing too serious but enough to count. My dad stepped away from it but mom didn’t. Then she just…disappeared. Before I was even out of diapers. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“What’s her name?”

“Stella.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to sit out here and talk to me, ya know. I’m a fuckin' drunk mess. And I ain’t real sorry about it.”

You smirked. “Hey, just keepin’ you company.” You tilted the bottle back again, almost choking on it when it hit you. “Oh my god, Jake…the other day you said Ace died the day before your eighteenth birthday, that means…tomorrow is your birthday…?”

He nodded. “Yep. The big 2-6, I guess.”

Fuck. Now you understand why. His rage makes sense…

“Well that means we gotta have you a party!” You squealed, standing from the chair.

“No no no, it’s just another day. I don’t need no party.” You grabbed his filthy hands, standing to your feet and bringing him with you.

“Birthdays are the most important day of the year, silly!” You started dancing around to ’Cinnamon Girl’ as it blared from Danny’s speaker high on the shelf, holding Jake’s hands as you spun yourself around. “I saw your Neil Young poster on the wall, I know you love him. Come on, dance with me, birthday boy!” You couldn’t help but to try and act and candidly as you could, anything to try and make him feel just a little bit better on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. Even if it was just making him smile for a second.

“You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girlllllll.” You sang out loud.

Which you did, kind of. He grinned a bit and rolled his eyes at you, his sticky hands gripping just the very ends of your fingertips. You didn’t know if Danny knew what you were doing out here, but you didn’t really care if he did. It was his best friend’s birthday, for Christ sake. And no one even cared.

Jake was stumbling around, his eyes heavily hooded and red. You realized maybe the alcohol had hit him when you stood him up so fast. He stepped his feet around a little bit, hardly much of a dance at all while you swung his arms around. It did manage to bring a little bit of a smile to his face, though.

“I do love Neil Young, you’re right. And I’m impressed you know this song.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m fuckin' drunk though, too. Sleepy.” He said as you dropped his hands back to his sides. “Think I’m gonna go crash out.” He looked at you through one eye, and you realized how drunk he really was.

“Shit, are you gonna be sick?” You asked.

“No no, just sleep. Wan’ ma bed.” He mumbled, walking over to the shop sink to wash his dirty hands.

“Okay, let me walk you.” You offered as he finished, walking backwards as you pulled him along toward his bedroom.

When you got inside you flicked the light on, watching as Jake kicked his coveralls, jeans, and boots off as he waddled through the room. My god, his thigh tattoo, you hadn’t seen it up close, fuck…it was a dragon. Big and black and blue with fire coming from its mouth leading directly to…

He threw himself onto the mattress, his pile of freshly-washed sheets still laying a mess on top.

“Mmm, they smell so good I just wanna…” he curled his arms and legs up in them, wrapping up like a cocoon as he buried himself in them.

You laughed. “Is this what having clean sheets does to a man?!”

“They’re still kinda warm from the dryer, Y/N! Come feel, come here…” he reached his hand out, pulling you down into the bed with him. You bounced a couple times from the force, but you landed directly in his arms, face to face as you ended up tangled in the sheets with him.

“See? Still warm, aren’t they?!” He was like a giddy school kid, but what he didn’t notice was how close your faces were. You could smell the heavy liquor emanating through his pores, on his breath, and swirling through the air, but his hand that pulled you down never let go. It gripped hard on yours as you laid beside him, both of you staring at each other, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall as your heart rate skyrocketed.

Suddenly you felt the light touch of his other hand barely grazing across your back. “Are you still scared of me?” He asked, his voice hollow and needy.

You thought a second, realizing that if you were truly scared of him, you wouldn’t have faced the monster he was, head-on earlier. By yourself in your panties, at that.

“No.” You said simply, and that was the truth.

The corners of his lips tilted up just slightly as he whispered. “Good.”

You got ahold of yourself, turning your face away as you fought the demons that began circling in your mind, being this close to him.

“I know what I want for my birthday.” He slurred, rolling his head into his pillow.

“What’s that?”

“You ta’ read me more Maya poems.” His eyes were already closing as his words barely slipped out. You knew it wouldn’t be long. You were getting tired, yourself. You reached to his nightstand where your book still sat, opening to a passage of one of your favorites.

You began reading out loud, just louder than a whisper, watching as his eyes drifted closed, his pink lips mouthing the words right along with you.

And without even knowing it you fell asleep there, curled up in his pile of sheets, one hand on your book, and the other wrapped up in Jake’s.

—

JAKE POV

Even through your drunken slumber you could hear the pounding on the door. Your eyes blinked open, trying to register if it was really happening or if you were dreaming. Surely you had to be as you looked over and saw Y/N asleep next to you. She was here, in your bed, with you. Your hand rested on the skin of her stomach and you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you took in the way she felt beneath your hand. You wanted to pull her close, smell her hair, let your fingers glide over her skin, but instead you heard the knocking on the front door continue. She began to stir from the noise, rolling to face you as you realized you needed to get up.

You pulled the blankets off of your body, your eyes searching furiously for where your gun ended up, finally catching sight of it on the dresser. You grabbed it, and bolted through your bedroom door to find out who the fuck was knocking on your door at four in the morning. You cocked your gun, and held it behind your back as you unlocked the front door, pulling it open slightly to see who it was. Bubba? The fuck?

You pulled the door open more, “What’s wrong?” you asked in a panic. This was unlike him. He never showed up like this unless something was wrong. Your eyes glanced behind him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

“You got that girl here, son?” he asks, raising a brow.

You furrow your brows and shift your weight into your hip, “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good. Keep ‘er here. Don’t let ‘er outta your sight. Ain’t safe for ‘er.” he warns, quietly.

“Joey was sniffin’ around up here earlier today, askin’ questions and shit. Asked where she was, so we went and got her from the motel. She’s not goin’ back. I knew he was up to some shit.” you answer, setting your gun down on the table by the door.

“I don’t know what exactly is goin’ down over at Teddy’s but, might be best for her to just lay low here for a while. You boys don’t let them snatch that girl, whatever you do, you hear?” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s not why I’m here though.”

“Alright, why are you here…” you ask, wondering what couldn’t wait until the morning.

“Got a meeting set up for you two, ‘round 3 o’clock tomorrow. Down at the old sawmill.” he answers with a gleam in his eye.

“A meeting? The fuck kind of meeting Bubba?” you ask defensively. “Three’s in the middle of the work day, I don–”

“Yer gonna wanna take this meeting, son, promise yeh.” he nods. “Just trust me. You and Daniel better go. Don’t make me look bad, boy.”

“What should we expect?” You asked.

Bubba stepped forward, placing his hand directly on your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

“Shit, alright.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Thanks.”

“Get you some rest.” he says, tipping his chin and heading back to his car.

The hell…

You shut the door and lock it behind you, grabbing your gun from the table, and heading towards Daniel’s room. You rap your knuckles against the door, before twisting the handle, but as you push the door, he pulls it open. “Who the fuck was that?” he asks, a slight panic in his voice.

“Bubba.”

“The fuck does he want at four in the morning?” he questions, resting his hands on the door frame.

“He set up a meeting for us tomorrow out behind the old Willits Sawmill. No fuckin' idea what for, but said we need to be there. 3 o’clock.” you answer.

“A meeting?”

“S’what he said. I don’t fuckin' know…” you quip.

“Whatever, we can deal with it in the morning. Where’s Y/N?” he asks, looking down the hallway.

You run your tongue over your teeth as you huff out an answer, “My bed.”

He raises his eyebrows, “In your bed…” he pauses, hardening his jaw, “Why’s that…”

You shake your head, and look past him for a second, before letting your eyes meet his, “Why don’t you let her tell you in the morning. Get some sleep, sounds like we’ve got a long day tomorrow.” you say, clapping your hand against his back with a smug grin.

He narrows his eyes at you, and shuts his door as you step across the hallway to your room. As you open the door you see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picks the skin on her thumb. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asks nervously.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your gun on your nightstand. She just stares at you waiting for you to answer as you let out a deep sigh. You motion for her to get back into the bed, watching as she scoots back over to the other side, letting you slide back in where you were. You pull the clean smelling blankets back up around your shoulders before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you. You settle your head on your pillow, finally able to breathe in the scent of her hair as the words fall out of your lips in a quiet whisper, “Nothing you need to worry about tonight…”

Her body relaxes beneath your arm, and you let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

—

DANNY POV

You rolled the creeper from beneath the old GMC as you heard the garage door shut and two pairs of feet shuffling across the bay. “Well, here we are again…Like deja vu.” you quip, cutting your eyes to Y/N, as she approaches.

You pull yourself up to meet her as Jake opens his tool kit across the bay. You let your eyes linger on him for a minute before flicking them back to Y/N. “Thought you’d be back last night…”

She drops her shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh, “I know. I know, I was trying, I swear, but…” she pauses, looking over her shoulder at Jake, who was now in his own little world beneath the hood of the Chevy. “I went out to talk to him last night, right? Well he kinda…opened up to me a little bit, told me about his dad… about his mom…” she says, a slight lilt in her voice. “He was so drunk Danny, he even cried a little bit.” she said, almost a whisper.

“I know. I peeked out and saw the two of you talking. Talking more than he’s talked in years. Figured I'd let him get it out. Think he needed it.” you answer truthfully.

“You saw?” she asks, and you nod your head in response.

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure he made it to his bed, that’s all. Asked me to just stay and talk a little more and I fell asleep. I had no idea it was the anniversary of his dad’s death. No wonder he was so messed up. Oh– and it’s his birthday today. Did you know that?” she asks.

Oh shit, you forgot. “Oh, um, yeah I guess you’re right it is. Usually we don’t do anything. Kinda just another day around here.”

“Just another day?” she asks, face painted with shock. “Danny that’s so…That’s so sad. I wish there was something I could do…” she says with sad eyes.

Your eyes flicked over to Jake and you caught him, seeing him flick his head up in acknowledgement, a small smile on his face. You look back at her, resting your hand on her small shoulder, “Baby, I think you did...” both of you turning to see him gently singing along with the music playing through the speakers.

—

“So this meeting…” you start, leaning on the frame of the Chevy. Jake turns to you, setting down his tools. “Yeah, at three.”

“I was thinking, we can’t leave her here, right? Like, what if this is just a set up to get her alone?” you ask, picking the dirt from under your nails.

“Yeah I considered that. Think we’ll have to bring her with just to be safe. She can wait in the truck.” he says, pushing off the frame of the car. You follow him through the bay as he rifles through his kit in search of another tool.

“I can take the bike, you two take the truck. Do we even know what this meeting is about?” you ask.

“Nah, Bubba didn’t say, but I trust ‘em. S’only got our best interest, ya know.” he replies, snatching the tool from the box and walking back over to the truck.

“I think we need to be prepared for any scenario…” you say with the raise of your eyebrows.

“Well fuckin' obviously. No clue what we’re gonna tell Y/N though.”

“Shit, hopefully this isn’t some stupid fuckin' setup. What we got like an hour?” you ask.

“Yeah. About. Think we should clean up, or…” he asks, turning to you.

“I mean, we could, but s’not really us, huh?” you laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, happy birthday brother.”

He tightens his lips and nods his head as he looks to the floor, “Ahh, thanks man. Twenty-six. Seems old.” he laughs.

“Nah, not really, we still got a lot of livin’ left to do.” you smile, watching as he nods his head and his eyes flick over to Y/N who is lounging in a folding chair out front.

“She was worried ‘bout you last night.” you press, hoping to hear his thoughts.

“Yeah, came out here guns a-blazin’ and didn’t falter for a second. Talked for a bit, drank too fuckin’ much. Woke up and she was in my bed.” he says, and you feel a little relieved.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow, “She’s a sweet lil thing.”

He scoffs a laugh at you. “Guess you got to find that out for sure when I left last night, huh? Had yourselves a good ol’ time in my absence…saw your shirt must’ve been the closest thing she could grab when I got home.”

You bit your lips in, nodding as you went. “She’s fuckin’ phenomenal, man. Like, I didn’t expect that…”

He laughed again, blushing a little. “No, she seems like a good girl. Feel like shit for all the hell we’re puttin’ her through.” he admits, wiping his hand on the rag in his back pocket.

“You order those parts?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, should be here in a week or two.” he nods, leaning on the frame of the truck.

“Make any headway with Val?” you wonder, seeing it still sitting uncovered. He shakes his head, “Nah, the old bitch still givin’ me a run for my money.”

“One of these days we’ll crack ‘er.” you say, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before returning to your side of the garage.

—

You stand in the doorway of the truck, watching her buckle her seatbelt as Jake slides into the driver’s seat. “Listen, we aren’t really sure what’s about to go down, but just stay in the truck, lay low, and if shit goes south, get on the floorboard. Alright?” you ask, letting your thumb swipe over her cheek. She nods her head and you tip your chin, turning to head towards your bike.

The door shuts behind you and Jake pulls out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. You quickly jump on your bike, starting it with a roar, before following closely behind them. Your heart is pounding a little extra hard as you make your way to the old abandoned sawmill, completely unsure of what or who will be waiting there for you.

His truck slows as he pulls into the cracked and pot hot riddled lot, seeing a single car parked at the far end. It’s not a car you recognize from around here and that puts you on high alert. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall as Jake parks the truck, letting you pull up next to him.

Y/N slinks down in the seat, trying her best to stay out of sight, as Jake steps out of his truck, slamming his door shut. You lean your bike on the kickstand and walk towards him, both of you sending each other a concerned look. “Recognize it?” you murmur under your breath.

“Nah.” he says, reaching back into his belt to cock his gun. You do the same, hoping it won’t come to that, but around here it wouldn’t be unheard of.

The two of you walk through the crunching pavement over towards the dark green GMC Sprint, seeing a man resting against the driver’s door. He hears you approaching and pushes off the car turning to face you. The sun is in your eyes as you catch sight of his face, distorting his features until you get a little closer. You notice the car is still running, despite him not occupying it, and that too, makes you uneasy.

“Was at the poker game.” you whisper.

“Sure was.” Jake replies, stepping up to the man.

“Hello fellas.” the man says with a smirk. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yep, what uh– what can we do for ya?” Jake asks, with his hands on his hips.

“Well boys, to be frank with you, I’d like to make a proposition to you.”

“You were at the game the other night. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” You say, crossing your arms against your chest.

“You’re right, I was. Names Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” he says, extending his hand to shake. You stare at it for a minute in contemplation before reaching towards him and shaking his hand. Jake follows, introducing himself.

“Oh I know who you boys are. Heard all about yehs.” he smiles.

“Heard about what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Heard you two were some fighters.” he says, tipping his head.

“Fighters?” Jake asks, shaking his head.

“S’what word on the street is. Figured I’d stop in to see for myself. Talked to some folks ‘round town, told me ‘bout your little poker games, and wouldn’t you know I got what I asked for. Saw the two of yeh’s on the side of the house.” he says, tightening his lips.

“So what, doesn’t mean we’re fighters or whatever the fuck.” Jake quips, standing firm.

“No son, I think that’s exactly what you are.” he retorts. “That’s why I asked your friend Bubba to arrange this little meetin’. Thought this could be beneficial for both of us.”

“You gonna get to the point?” you ask, trying to hurry things along.

He laughs a little under his breath, “I want you two come fight for me. You win, you get a portion of the winnins’.” he says, placing his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a stack of cash, easily five-hundred bucks. “Pay off that debt of yers real quick like.”

“Fight for you? The fuck does that mean?” Jake asks, staring at the money in his hand.

“You ever heard of Vale Tudo?” he asks, both of you shaking your heads, a little unsure of this man's motives.

“Alright, how ‘bout… No Holds Barred fightin’?”

“Yeah.” you answer quickly, earning you a nod from him. Of course you’d heard of it, you were practically raised on it.

“Well, somethin’ like that. Real private, underground type of settin’. Think up in those there bigger cities the folks call it ‘MMA’. Got people buyin’ in, bettin’ on these fights. We ain’t talkin’ no small buy in’s neither. This is big cash. Life changin’ money.” he says, raising a brow.

“Been lookin’ for myself a few boys to travel ‘round.” he pauses. “I think you two got the grit, and the need.”

“The need…” Jake presses.

“I know that Teddy character, he ain’t never gonna let you get ahead. But son, this is yer chance.”

“So, you want me and Jake to come…fight, and if we win said fights we get paid?” you ask, genuinely trying to piece this together.

“Exactly. We can work out the details, but roughly, you travel ‘round to these hosted fights, you fight favorably, we both walk home with our pockets lined.” he says.

“And how do we know, you’re trustworthy?” Jake asks. “I’ve got a life and a livin’ to make here. Bills lined up till kingdom come and they don’t pay themselves.”

“It’d be a fight here and there, every week or two with a rest period to recover yer health and bodies. Yeh’d have time at yer shop, so it’d be unsuspectin’. That’s the point son. Don’t want the heat findin’ out ‘bout it.” he says, and you start to feel uneasy.

“Seems…I don’t know. Why us? There’s gotta be people better suited than us…” you barter.

“Well truthfully Daniel, I’ve had my eye on you since you was ‘bout 17. Heard ‘bout the fightin’ from some folks, kept an eye on yeh. And Jacob, I know you learned from ‘em. Watched yeh myself just the other night. Ye’ve got somethin’, and I’m willin’ to take a chance on you boys if you’re willin’ to take a chance on me. If it doesn’t work out, well, hell we tried, still let you two walk away with a few hundred each for yer troubles.”

You see Jake’s brow furrow, and you know he’s considering it. You know this debt is crippling the shop, the two of you barely scraping by every week. You know this could be your chance. The only other thing you’ve ever been good at. “We gotta decide right now?” you ask, sending him a questioning look.

“No’sir. I’ll be in town ‘nother few days, got some outstanding business. First fight ain't for another week ‘er so over in Kirksville.” he says, reaching into his pocket again, pulling out a paper business card. Jake takes it from his fingers, reading over it before handing it to you.

“Now, you fellas think this over, give me a call once you’ve come to a decision.” he says, tipping his head. “Oh, and, for what it’s worth…” he pauses, “These buy in’s… is in the thousands range. My last fighter took home 4 grand in one night, for 5 minutes effort. Just somethin’ to consider.” and with that he slides into his idling car.

As the car pulls off in a cloud of exhaust Jake turns to you, his jaw slack and his face riddled with shock and question. “What the fuck…What was that? Wh–What do we do?”

You turn to look at him, shoving your hands in your pockets, and sucking your teeth, “Sounds like we fight.”

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