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taekookielove0130 · 2 years ago

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Marry me? | JJK x Reader Ch 1

"You made me question every damn thing I've been taught to believe from the very beginning. Doesn't that make you special enough?"

_____________________________________________________

Yn POV

The breeze brushes past me as I gently inhale the scent of invigorating coffee lingering in the shop. I sigh and tuck the strands of hair as I stare out through the window.

A typical day in my life. Wake up at 6. Workout for a while. Eat breakfast. Study. Work at the coffee shop from 5 to 7 pm. Go home. Eat, sleep, and repeat. Well, the sleep part isn't too prominent. But that isn't the point.

Oh, and did I mention college? Yeah, I'm working to earn the money I need alongside doing my PGs. Today, in particular, has been quite stressful.

With the new month approaching, the house owner has been pestering me about the rent. Today, he decided to drop a bomb on me by saying I have to move out.

Apparently, his daughter, who was living in the US, is now returning to spend a few days here. I only have a month to find a new place to live. And since it's the last semester of my last year at college, I have a LOT going on at the moment.

A voice calling out my name breaks me out of my reverie, and I turn to see my best friend waving at me. I wave back and wait for her to join me at my table.

Ha-Joon and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. Born to parents who are good friends, going to the same school and growing up in the same neighborhood, she has always been the sister I never had.

As both of us had the same passion when it came to fashion, we both followed our dreams and pursued a degree in our field of interest. Since I wanted to do a PG course and get a professional degree and she didn't, I am studying while she is working.

"Yah! Where were you? You told me you'd come at 7 and see the time now." I ask her with a glare as she sets her bag down on the table and sits.

Sighing, she says, "I know. I promised to be here at 7 and now it's 7:30. I was late because my ex just bumped into me as I was coming here."

Frowning, I decide to...

"Okay. So before you even think of scolding me..." she says, giving me a look.

See what i said? She knows me far too well.

"I didn't let him charm his way back into my life. He let me go once, and that's it. " she continues staring into my eyes.

"That's right. He doesn't deserve you." I agree giving a satisfied smile.

"Exactly what I thought. Now, what do you have to say about not getting ready?" She cocks her brows at me as I frown in confusion.

"Oh My Fucking God! You forgot again didn't you?"she asks and places her fist above her chest, gasping.

Drama queen. But yeah, I did forget that we have a party to attend tonight. One of our friends from college has gotten a job at Flowers and Seasons after months of applications and rejections.

He has decided to throw a party and since it's on a Friday night, I wouldn't say no to starting the weekend with a drink and he basically threatened our friendship if I didn't go, I agreed to it.

The party starts at 9, and we need to go and get ready now unless we plan on being late and having our heads bitten off.

"I did forget. I'm sorry, today was just way too stressful than usual." I say wincing, rubbing my temples.

"Aw. My baby is tired."she coos at me and hugs me sideways as I sigh and hug her back.

"Okay. Let's go now." I say, standing up.

This day can only get better from here, right?

_______________________________________________

Jungkook POV:

Leaning against the railing, I run my hands through my hair as I scroll through the texts and the calls I haven't answered.

More than 20 missed calls, mostly from my mother and a few of my friends. I texted my friends that I'm already here before i opened the chat with my mother. She's asking me where I am and berating me for leaving without even listening to what they had to say.

Seriously? My dad just decided to step down and hand his title and all the responsibilities that come with it to me without even asking me if I was ready. Typical of my parents to make decisions for me without considering my thoughts or my emotions...

In all of the 30 years I've lived so far, not once have I had my parents ask me what I would like. Not like I expect them to. Being the only son of the best mob boss of South Korea does teach you not to expect good things in life.

All this time, I've been taught that emotions are weaknesses. Love can only make you weak. I do understand the truth in that statement. My cousin, who got married last week to the live of his life, got killed because he couldn't afford to maintain his position in our empire.

Only a marriage like my parents' can survive in our world. A marriage of convenience. One without love. A facade. A symbiosis where both gain something by living together. I do know all of this. I understand it, too.

But why did my heart skip a beat when my eyes met hers for the first time? Why did I feel like I wanted to see the world through her brown orbs instead of the dark, expressionless black that mine are? And most importantly, why did I think she was the one I was meant to meet? I need answers to all these questions, and that's exactly what drew me to her.

___________________________________________________

Yn POV

I'm shaken out of my shocked state by Ha-Joon who looks at me with a questioning look and follows my line of vision to see the object of my desire and looks back at me with understanding in her eyes. She rolls her eyes and fans her face in a dramatic show of "hot" and smirks at my giggle before turning back to face the table.

I can totally relate to her. The guy that's sat across from us at the bar looks like he just jumped right out from one of my fictional novels.

With perfectly-gelled jet black hair and a casual look on with the black jacket thrown over his white tee and blue jeans, he looks so hot that I would jump his bones right now if I weren't so scared of the others' reactions.

Shit. No. No, no, no. I did totally not think about that right now. I take a deep breath and am sure that my face just turned so red that it would give tomatoes a run for their money and try to forget about him and tune in to the conversation about the model that has asked one of our friends to design her dress.

A few minutes pass, and I know I can't concentrate anymore. Understanding that what I need right now is a drink, I excuse myself from the table and pad across the room to the bar.

Sitting down, I wait for the bartender and am shocked again as a figure makes its way to me and maneuvers into the seat next to me.

Settling down, he turns to face me and flashes me a smirk before extending his hand.

"Jeon Jungkook." he says in his deep baritone that has wetness gushing between my legs that makes me want to rub my thighs together. Clearing my throat, I try to control my reaction and regulate my breathing.

"Lee Y/n. " I say, flashing him a nervous smile, proud of the fact that my voice doesn't break.

"A bone dry martini for me and.." he pauses, turning to me.

"I'll have the same, please," I say, turning and flashing a smile to the bartender before he leaves.

I turn to face the model-like man next to me and notice him cocking his eyebrow at me.

"You sure you wanna try that drink? It's a bit too strong." he questions as I smirk at him before saying

"I'm tougher than you may think, mister."

Smirking back he asks,

"So y/n. What brings a lovely lady like you to the bar on a Friday night?"

"Can't a girl just enjoy her youth in a bar with her friend?" I shoot back and see that amused expression on his face at my response.

Letting out a tiny giggle I say, "We're actually here for a friend's party. I couldn't concentrate on the conversation at the table, so I just wanted to take a break." I answer genuinely.

A few minutes later, we've both had plenty of drinks, and I've loosened up gradually. I'm pretty comfortable around him now. And he is actually an interesting person.

He's been filling me in with a lot of funny memories from his childhood, along with pieces of information about who he really is.

I now know that he's the son of Mr. Jeon, who is currently South Korea's most dangerous mob boss.

To be honest, I was quite surprised at the information. Scared? Not really. Being friends to one of the top mob bosses' daughters does that to you. Before you ask, yes. Ha-joon's dad is a mob boss. It's a very dangerous one at that.

I'm broken out of my musings as a hand appears in my peripheral. Following it, I stare transfixed as Jungkook stands there looking at me with a charming smirk.

"Care for a dance?" he asks.

Glancing back, I can see Ha-Joon talking to one of our friends. Understanding by her animated way of talking, I see she is quite comfortable.

Making my decision, I turn back to Jungkook and slip my hand into his after giving him a smile. The warmth in his soft hands amaze and somehow shock me at the same time.

"Sure," I say. Clasping my hand tightly in his hand, he starts to make his way to the dance floor.

The song is one for a slow dance. He turns back to me with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes sparkling due to the lights of the dance floor.

Looking into my eyes for permission, I understood what he was asking when he slipped his hands around me, hovering over my waist but not touching.

Suppressing the smile and hiding the happiness such a sweet gesture caused in me, I answer him by thread both my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer.

Once again, I am impressed by his build. This man definitely works out. Suppressing the shiver that passes through me at his body, I understand that admiring such a man from a distance was fine but feeling it this close to me and having the privilege of running my hands over it was a whole different thing.

I don't have much time to dwell, though. He immediately wraps his arms around my waist, bringing me closer.

The warmth from his hands seeps past the thin fabric of my dress and makes me shiver with anticipation.

Looking up, I can already see him staring into my eyes. As we slowly begin to sway along with the music, I am starting to get mesmerised by his eyes.

His gaze darkens further as I move even closer, pushing my body up against his as someone pushes me into him.

When I clear myself of the drunk state his gaze causes and start to move away, he locks his hands around me, caging my body with his in an almost - protective cocoon.

The look in his eyes is overpowering, and I find myself submitting to his will against the nagging voice in my head.

We sway with the music for what seems like eternity, but in actuality, it is nothing but a few minutes.

As the song ends, I still can not find it in me to look away and have to wait for a few minutes until the inebriated state clears.

Just as I think the night was over, along with the dance and the amazing time I spent with this man, he shocked me with his words.

Lowering his head to my height and placing his lips next to my ear, he presses an open-mouthed kiss against my skin there.

As I shiver, I can feel him smiling or rather smirking (since I haven't seen this guy full-flown smiling yet) against my skin.

A few more minutes pass before I hear the deep timbre of his voice whisper against my head,

"YN, will you marry me?”

Author note:

Hey!

Was the first chap was good enough that you want to read the story? And what do you think will happen next? Was Jungkook serious? Will Yn agree? What do you think? Let me know!

And, I'm taking requests! Just message me privately or drop a comment.

Hope you have a great day!

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cinemassance-oneshots · 2 years ago

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Recalcitrant - Paul Dano’s Riddler (Chapter 3)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: brief mentions of past trauma, obsessive and posessive behavior, and male masturbation

I kept looking at the clock. It felt that time was going by slower than usual. No matter how exhausted I was, the thrill of my first date in a really long time kept my mind awake. Well, actually, I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a date or not. Should I have asked him if it was? Maybe he just wanted me as a friend. Before I continued down my spiral, Bonnie broke me out of my thoughts.

“What’s got you in a rush today?”

I glanced over at Bonnie. I looked away and continued to refill the condiments. I tried my best to keep busy to keep my nerves at bay.

“I have a date tonight—well, I think I do.” I did my best to suppress my smile.

Without a doubt, I was super excited. I am nervous, though. I don't have an off feeling about Edward or anything like that, but it’s because I haven’t had a good history when it comes to dating. If anything, I'm more self-conscious about the whole thing.

“Oh, hun, that’s exciting,” Bonnie exclaimed. “Did Martinez finally ask you out?”

I knew Bonnie meant well, but I did get tired of her speculation that Martinez and I would be something more despite me constantly telling her we were just friends. He’s a very nice man, and I respect him for being on the force. I knew he was in it for the right reasons, unlike Smith. I knew Smith was in it for power and control; I wouldn’t be surprised if he were corrupted either, in all honesty.

“No, it’s with Edward.”

I looked up at her as her mind contorted to place a face with the name. Then the realization set in, and it clicked.

“Oh, that shy boy with the glasses?” I nodded before she continued. “That's not surprising at all. He only really talks to you when he comes in. Dorky looking but cute.”

I chuckled at her brief description of him. He had a “dorky” quality, but I didn't mind. It made him more adorable, in my opinion.

“Just know if he tries anything he shouldn't, he’ll have me to deal with.” I smiled at her protectiveness. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend how well my relationship is with Bonnie. She's never completely judged me, but she doesn't hold back on stating her opinion.

“I appreciate that, Bonnie. But, like I said, I don’t know if it’s a date or not, so we’ll call it a friendly hangout until further notice.”

She gave me a bright smile before walking away to do something. I looked back at the counter as my thoughts wandered. I had no expectations for tonight. Growing up, I realized it was better to have no expectations for anything; that way you won't be disappointed if it doesn't go according to plan.

Usually, life never went according to plan. I would be an expert in that field. If life went perfectly for me, I wouldn’t have to work two jobs, barely scraping by in this hell hole city struggling to get my degree. No. If it were perfect, I’d be successful, and cover stories people needed to know about.

The rest of my shift dragged. The business was steady; it wasn't anything too chaotic nor too dull. It felt tedious. I mainly just hoped to make a decent amount of tips that day. Bonnie told me I usually did since I was still young and had a pretty face. Then she went on a ramble explaining that she didn’t mean that as if I wasn’t a good worker. I never took anything she said negatively. She’s one of the best influences I have had in my life.

When I walked home, I rushed. It wasn't because I wanted enough time to get ready for my date, which I did, but you never wanted to take your time walking alone, especially at night in Gotham and more so as a woman. I hated that this was a reality for me and many others. Crime rates were rampant in this city.

I've seen some of the reports on the news. Even though the city now has the Batman, a masked vigilante, for about a year, Gotham’s crime rates remain high. He may instill some fear, but it isn't enough to keep the criminals silent.

The Batman was an interesting topic for people here. We've had a fair amount of debates in my journalism classes discussing him. There are a lot of people who think he's amazing and others who think he's a psycho hiding behind a mask. As for me, I think he's the small shed of hope people like me need.

Without some form of order, chaos continues to spread like wildfire. A never ending cycle that only brings destruction and an inevitable end to civility.

I let out a deep breath as I entered my apartment and locked the door behind me. I dropped my keys and bag onto my small kitchen table. It's not like I ever had people over, so it was suitable enough for one other person and me, if necessary.

I organized my place a little–more like as best as I could. It wasn't messy since I didn't have many belongings, but I gradually felt more aware of the possibility that Edward could come into my place after our hangout.

As I got ready, I realized I didn't know what to wear. What if I dressed too casually? What if I dressed too formally? I knew if I overthought it, I wouldn't settle on anything.

Sirens filled the streets when my phone started to ring. I picked it up before smiling once I heard the voice on the other end. It was Edward.

“I'm, um, here. Downstairs,” he nervously spoke. Somehow it was reassuring to know he was equally anxious. I felt less alone.

“I'll be out in a moment,” I replied. Butterflies filled my stomach. I clutched my purse in my hand as I headed downstairs, inching closer to him by the second. With each step, my heart beat faster.

I didn’t know what to expect once I saw him. He dressed relatively similarly to how he looked coming into the diner. His hair looked like it was cleaned and brushed more than usual.

“Hi,” I greeted with a smile as I closed the building door. I opened my bag to put my keys in it before looking back at him. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” he softly replied. “You—you do too.”

“What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked him as we started to walk. A small part of me wanted him to reach out and hold my hand. Logically I knew it was too soon and made no sense, but my heart still desired it.

“Do you like the movies?”

I lightly chuckled at his question. He looked at me as if he had made a huge mistake, and worry filled his eyes. I looked at him reassuringly with a smile.

“I love the movies. I haven’t gone to see one in a really long time.”

“How come?” he questions, genuinely curious.

“I barely have the time,” I started to explain. “Plus, I’m behind on what movies are even out right now. I mainly remember the theater always having horror movies as options. Is that still true?”

“Yes.” He looked over and saw me slightly disappointed. Honestly, I wasn’t a big horror movie person. They never appealed to me and made me uncomfortable, especially when I watched them alone. But I’m not alone this time.

“We can do something else if you don’t like the idea of a movie,” Edward added.

“No, I like the idea of seeing a movie again. I’m just not a big horror movie person.”

“Oh…”

“But since it’s both of us, it’s fine,” I reassured him with a small smile. That seemed to put him at ease again. I didn’t realize how nervous I was since all my focus was on him.

Once we arrived at the cinema, we went to the box office to see what our options were. Unfortunately, the only options we had were two horror movies. I still don’t get Gotham’s obsession with horror when we lived in a highly criminal city where horrors were constantly around us everywhere.

Edward asked if I had a preference, but I shook my head. I told him I was content with any of the options. Sure, I wasn’t a huge horror film person, but I could manage.

He paid for both of our tickets, which was very sweet of him. I told him I could pay for my own, but he insisted. I thanked him again while we walked inside.

We didn’t get any concessions. He did ask if I wanted anything, but I figured I wouldn’t be able to stomach anything once the movie started. I couldn’t handle very gory themes in movies, and it looked like it might be one of those. So, to be safe, I decided not to fill my stomach up with contents that might fight their way back up.

Once we sat down, he looked at me. He seemed nervous again and uncertain.

“Are you sure you’re okay seeing this? We can watch something else.”

I looked into his eyes and shook my head. It is endearing he wanted to ensure I was fine with the movie choice.

“It’s okay.”

During the movie, a scene came on that terrified me. Without thinking, my hand grabbed his on instinct. Before I realized and could pull it away in case it freaked him out, he gave my hand a comforting squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“It’s only a movie. It’s not real.” His breath is on my skin, sending a warm feeling throughout my body. “They can't hurt you.”

He didn’t let go of my hand. I leaned in closer to him and pressed my head against my arm. I knew he was there due to him holding my hand, but pressing closer to him gave me more comfort that I wasn’t alone.

After the movie, he walked me home. We talked some on the way. It didn't feel uncomfortable when it was silent between us, which was nice. Most silences between another person and me are usually very uncomfortable.

When we reached the entrance of my apartment complex, I turned to face him.

“Would you like to come up? I can make us some coffee, or I have tea.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” I replied, referencing the night he walked me home after my late shift. Edward gave a small nod.

We walked up a few flights of stairs to my floor and then to my apartment. I admit I was a bit anxious for him to see my place. I didn’t have many people over, so I hoped it looked at least decent. My textbooks, assignments, and notes were splayed all across my table.

“Sorry, it’s a little disorganized,” I apologized as I walked over to my table to tidy it up a bit.

“It’s more organized than mine,” Edward softly reassured. I stacked my belongings up and grabbed some of them to move to the side. Without hesitation, he followed and grabbed the rest of the stack for me.

“Oh, thank you. You can just set it on top of the others.”

“Do you like your classes?” He asked me as we walked back into the kitchen area. It was a small apartment, so the kitchen halved as the living room.

“My journalism classes are interesting, but they’re all a lot of work. It’s honestly a struggle to manage everything. Anyways, I can brew some coffee, or I have some teas.”

“Tea is fine.”

I put the kettle on the stove. We sat at the table as we waited for it to boil. I’ll admit it was peculiar to see Edward outside the diner, much less in my own home. I’ve been so used to seeing him sit in the same spot at the diner for weeks that I never pictured him in other environments.

“How do you manage?” I pushed some of my hair behind my ear as I took a deep breath and shrugged.

“I just do what I can and hope for the best,” I candidly responded. “I don’t get much sleep, but I want to finish this degree as soon as I can. This place is small, but it isn’t the cheapest and neither is the tuition. I use what I make at the diner for bills and what I make at the Iceberg Lounge for tuition. It’s a lot, but it’s ok.”

“It’s not okay if you’re exhausting yourself.” There was a slight edge to his voice. It sounded like he was mad. I don’t think he was mad at me but more so about the situation. “You shouldn’t have to do all of that.”

“It’s just for the time being.”

“Do you not have any family that could help?” I didn’t expect the topic of family to be a discussion possibility for the night.

“I, uh, don’t really have a family,” I cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry.” I could tell he regretted asking. He didn’t know my family was estranged. The water started to boil, so I stood up to pull some mugs out of the cabinets.

“You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t something you were aware of,” I said. Before I continued, I turned to him and held up the teas I had, which were Earl Grey, green tea, and Oolong. “Which tea would you like?”

“Earl Grey.” I nodded as I put the others up and opened two tea packets for us.

“I don’t discuss my family with anyone,” I started to explain. I poured the hot water over the tea bags in the cups, allowing the water to change color. “My dad left when I was young. I barely remember him. My mom didn’t handle it well, so I removed her from the picture when I was old enough. I haven’t talked to her since.”

I placed one of the mugs in front of him before sitting down with my own. I finally looked up at him to see him looking back.

“Sorry,” I looked away.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You had every right to cut her out of your life.” His understanding and validation felt comforting. Sometimes I would wonder if I did the right thing, and now I have consolation.

“Do you have any family?” I asked, trying to get the focus off of me. I raised my tea to my lips and blew on it to cool it down slightly before taking a small sip.

“No,” he shook his head. His hands were clasped around the cup, soaking up the heat. “My parents died when I was young.”

“I’m so sorry.” I felt horrible for him. I didn’t want to imagine a younger Edward growing up in a horrible orphanage. I wanted to console him.

“Don’t be.” We sat there in silence for a few moments, drinking our teas and trying to think of something we could discuss.

“Why did you become a forensic accountant?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Numbers make sense to me. I like puzzles.” I smiled. He liked puzzles. That’s good information to know. “Do you like riddles?”

“Riddles? I’ve never given them much thought. I’ll admit I haven’t done a lot of puzzles or anything related to those in my life.”

“I can introduce you to them,” he said. “I-if you want.”

“That sounds fun.” I could tell that made him happy. I looked down at the table with a smile on his face. We talked for a while until he noticed how late it was getting. He would have liked to stay longer but said he wanted me to get a decent amount of rest. It was nice how much he cared.

I leaned against the door as he stood in the doorway to leave. I said I didn’t have expectations for tonight, and I agree I still don’t, even though this night would surpass the expectations I theoretically would’ve had.

“Thanks for a great evening, Edward,” I told him. “It was nice taking a break from everything with you.”

“Me too.” It felt like he wanted to say more, but he was still too nervous.

“Be safe getting home.” He smiled at that and nodded. I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek like I did last time. “Good night.”

“Night,” he barely got out before I closed the door. A smile stayed on my face as I went to clean up. The way he held my hand during the movie. He’s so awkwardly adorable.

I sat on the couch after setting my alarm for the morning. I usually fell asleep on the couch doing assignments, so I’ve made it a habit to set my alarm before I sit down. My eyes felt heavy. I don’t remember getting much work accomplished before I went unconscious. All I remember is thinking of Edward before I fell asleep.

< ? >

Finally getting alone time with her was more than pleasurable. I gradually got closer to having her myself. Being patient was hard, but it would pay off.

I loved the way she grabbed my hand during the movie. A gruesome scene came onto the screen, followed by a jumpscare when she did it. I wouldn’t have minded staying in that moment forever with her needing me.

“It’s only a movie,” I told her. “It’s not real. They can’t hurt you.”

I wanted to tell her nothing, and no one would ever hurt her. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d kill anyone who ever tried to hurt her.

Rage filled me when I found out about her family. What kind of father leaves his daughter at such a young age, especially to an abusive mother? She didn’t explicitly say her mother abused her, but I could tell. I’d make her mother pay for her crimes.

She wasn’t as innocent as I originally believed, which made me want her more. Her trauma tainted her. I wanted to alleviate her trauma. She deserved a better life. I can give her that.

I preserved moments with her in my mind. She should be admired like art, but she needed to be my personal art. No other man deserved to look at her.

Introducing her to riddles and puzzles was something I was extremely looking forward to doing. Open up her mind to new possibilities. Introduce her to my first love.

I couldn’t wait for her to see the world as I did. I couldn’t wait for her to see how I was going to change the city for her and me. Gotham was a filthy place full of corrupted people. People who even corrupted her when she didn’t deserve it.

When I returned to my place, all I could think about was her. Her hands felt calloused yet soft in my own at the movies. Her body felt warm pressed against mine. I couldn’t deny the sensation the thoughts sent down to my cock.

Images filled my mind. The thought of her hand wrapped around me, stroking me. I couldn’t contain myself anymore. I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out with pre-cum coming out of the tip.

My hand wrapped around it. As I closed my eyes, I imagined it was her’s instead of mine. Her soft lips pressed against mine as she gave me a handjob. Her hands working skillfully, drawing me closer to the edge by the moment.

I’d imagine her saying filthy things to me about my size and asking if it felt good. I’d wrap my hand around her throat, feeling her pulse intensify underneath it as I asked her who gave her the right to have a flighty mouth like that. She would tell me no one before I told her to get down on her knees.

She’d look up at me with those gorgeous eyes of her’s as I told her to give me a blowjob. She’d be eager to please me. Her mouth would wrap around my cock, taking it as far as she could. Gurgles escaping her mouth as I hit the back of her throat. Her hands would wrap around the rest of me that her mouth could reach.

My head fell back as the euphoric thoughts and feelings took over me. I moved my hand faster as I imagined fucking her throat. My hands would pull her hair back as I got ready to throat fuck her. I buck my hips faster into her mouth, reaching the back with each thrust and making her gag.

I let out one more moan before cumming in my hand. I gave a few more strokes to drag out the high. I reached up with my other arm and wiped the sweat that formed on my forehead.

I went to wash myself up. I couldn’t wait for my fantasies to become my reality.

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dollslayer · 4 years ago

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Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

#sugary4kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!Steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!steve rogers #sugar daddy au #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #fluff #smut

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moonlight-frittata · 3 years ago

Text

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil.

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??”

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days.

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.”

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said.

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems.

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign.

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand.

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed.

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor.

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand.

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day.

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.”

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips.

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement.

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon.

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor.

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again.

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior.

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you.

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to.

Remember this!

Oh how is so and so?

Damn, that was 5 years ago already?

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself.

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding.

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar.

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm.

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.”

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove.

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair.

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners.

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar.

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone.

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it.

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment.

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software.

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?”

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.”

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence.

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused.

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known?

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?”

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips.

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It’s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone.

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am.

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean.

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

#overwatch #mekamechanic #dva #brigitte lindholm #laura writes #man I've been poking at this for ever finally time to just put it out in the world so I can think about something new ahaha #hope you like!#hana song #(also there was no 300 page onboarding manual until Pharah wrote it)

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alrightberries · 4 years ago

Text

honey, honey (how you thrill me)

request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!

request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack. ❈ word count: 4.6k

❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex

a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)

Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.

Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.

Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.

His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.

The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.

But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.

So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.

“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”

“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”

“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”

“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”

“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.

“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“

“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”

Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”

“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.

“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”

Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“

“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.

“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”

“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”

“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”

Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.

“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.

The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.

“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”

Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.

It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.

He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”

Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“

“They’re not!”

“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.

He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?

Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.

“Deal me in.”

The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.

Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.

You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”

Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”

That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.

You smile. “Thanks.”

The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)

Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.

Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.

But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.

Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.

“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.

“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly.

He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.

“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.

Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”

You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”

“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”

“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”

Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.

They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.

“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”

Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.

You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”

“I know.”

Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.

“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”

You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”

The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.

Something was up.

It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.

“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.

Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”

“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.

Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.

“Use this for now.”

You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.

Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.

“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“

“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.

“How long have you and Y/N been dating?��

Ah. So that’s what it was about.

Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”

“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“

“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.

“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”

She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.

“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.

Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”

Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”

“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”

“Where I caught you having sex?”

“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”

“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”

“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”

“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“Damn it, Levi!”

Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.

You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.

“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”

He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.

You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.

“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.

“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.

“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.

Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—

“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”

“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.

“They curse more than I do.”

“Still.”

He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.

“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.

“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”

As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—

“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”

“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Gladly.”

The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.

Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.

“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”

You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?

You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”

“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.

As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“

“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.

You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”

He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.

“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”

The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—

“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.

Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”

The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.

A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.

“Hey.” Levi greets.

“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”

“...yeah.”

He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.

From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.

“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.

Something was wrong.

If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.

It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.

The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.

Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.

“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.

“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”

Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”

Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.”

She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”

“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”

“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.

“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”

“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all.

“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.

“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”

The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”

You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”

“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness.

“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”

“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”

The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands.

Finally, he has enough.

“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.”

He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”

“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.

“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”

Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.

“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”

At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.

“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”

If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”

“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”

You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”

“Dogs.” Levi corrects.

“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”

“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”

Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”

“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”

The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.

“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.

“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.”

He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.

“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”

Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”

“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.

“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”

He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#tis cute tis cute #ngl i hope i didn't make it too long like last time #i have a bad habit of writing innner monologues too long lmao #writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot imagine #attack on titan imagine

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tendermiasma · 4 years ago

Note

i’m not even into overwatch anymore but i just wanted to say I ADORE your art style and hope to develop my own into a similar semi-realism leaning...have you made a post about your art journey? I’m assuming I just need to buckle down and do anatomy studies but any tips are very welcome!! Ty for your time <3

Oh man thank you! I’ve never made a comprehensive post about how I got to *gestures* whatever this point in my art this is, and I definitely sat here wondering what “art journey” means for me since I always feel like I’m stumbling around so I’ll answer as completely as I can. But a great way to develop a realism-minded eye is to draw from photos and life. Everyone in the world has said it over and over but it really gets it done, it’s not any more complicated than that. It’s how I started when I was little and it’s not something I planned, but the Legolas posters were right there so how could I not? Your own non-realism “stylistic” touch will bubble up whether you want it to or not and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s not something you need to look for because it happens on its own, whether it’s you seeing something another artist is doing that you like and assimilating it into your work, or it’s your own unique way that you absorb information from the world and use it to solve problems in the drawing in front of you. Some new artists also still have the idea that using references is cheating-- I’m not blaming them, sometimes this weird thing is circulated by more established people as well-- but this is a very small minority. Please use references. I’d be lost without them. The Castlevania team has a giant collection of references for faces of every character from every angle, props, etc. and I always have a second screen up with 10 different sheets of whoever I’m drawing. Feeding yourself info is essential to getting better. Look at how other artists handle something you’re having a problem with too. If they’re doing a similar pose or something, study their drawing and ask yourself what specifically, extremely technically about that drawing is convincing-- what marks are where, and what is the quality or direction of the strokes? Try it out on your own drawing. If you’re stuck, become aware of if you’re holding on too tightly to what you think something should look like. I have to remind myself this as well. Really try to let go of the idea you have in your head about how something works and simply try instead to draw what you see, even if it feels weird. The results are often pleasantly surprising.

I have a funny relationship with studies. You seem to be looking at them like a chore and I feel the same way. It’s impossible for me to sit down and just draw something over and over, disconnected from emotion or a larger narrative. I think a wonderful way to “study” is to incorporate those studies into a project that you wanted to do anyway. I’ve used my minicomics to get better at background painting or specific figure poses that I needed for the story but wasn’t sure how to do. I’m a very “oops I need it now better learn TODAY” kind of artist, if that suits you better than buckling down and doing anatomy studies for hours. Both are great ways to improve, but you have options for how to get there.

In terms of how much time I spend drawing.. well lol it’s a lot. I almost typed “but I don’t do it every day” but yes, my jobs have made sure that I do (I tend to separate personal drawing and job drawing). But the truth is, to get better, a lot of very focused drawing time is important; how much of it is up to you and your schedule. You can sit down for 6 hours and doodle or you can sit down for 3 with an extremely critical eye. It’s about the volume of time as well as focus and I don’t have a clear answer for it, but I can point to one specific year in my life where I made artistic progress like I’ve never seen from myself since. I drew a comic with regular updates during that time and, looking back, the art was not good. But the point was, I was drawing for 7 hours a day after work, at least 5 days a week, and actively looking to draw things that I hadn’t done before or knew that I wasn’t good at, and the result was that every single update was almost like it was drawn by a different person-- readers noticed and commented on the progress as well. It was very much an art bootcamp and I wouldn’t have the skills I do at this point if I hadn’t done it. It’s important that you’re loving what you do if you do it for yourself! That’s how you get through big projects and continue to be excited with where you are. Love is one of the most important motivators and discipline-keepers in art, in my experience. Draw what sets your brain on fire and attack it wholeheartedly even if it’s really weird or niche, not what you think you should be drawing, and you’ll improve a million times faster.

Art journey in terms of what I’ve done with my life (if this is what you meant from the beginning I’M SORRY I’m just trying everything you might have meant) uhhh I haven’t been to art school. I have no idea what my relationship with art would be like now if I’d had any formal training and I don’t really dwell on it. I could either be a testament to being able to get by without it or an example of someone who has no idea what she’s doing at all and lacks many basic foundational art skills. I have an architecture degree. I love architecture, I love the language of space we build for ourselves, and I’m truly, deeply glad for that eye-opening and often grueling experience, but I think my current field is a much better fit. Before animation I worked as a graphic designer mainly drawing storyboards for commercials and internal-industry stuff-- lots and lots of quick colored sketches (one of our main clients was a big glass company and my god I never thought I’d draw so much glass in my life). I was able to do that job due to the skills I developed through personal work. Maybe I’d be a hundred times more powerful if I went to art school! Maybe I’d be completely burned out and bitter and not drawing anymore at all! I just don’t know. I have friends who have had both experiences. Whether you choose art school or not it’s best to keep tabs on if the art you’re currently making brings you joy. Joy and struggle aren’t mutually exclusive. Oftentimes I’m drawing something I care deeply about but it’s VERY FUCKING HARD and I’m frustrated but it’s worth it.

I also do everything while being very scared of the thing. I have a lot of deep-seated anxiety that I’m constantly trying to root out and my brain compulsively twists things around into why I can’t do something, why people secretly know I’m below-par and are just too nice to tell me, how I’m “tricking” people into thinking I’m better than I am, etc. It’s so bad that my first thought when I was initially offered the art test for my current job was to say no; not because I didn’t want it so badly it hurt, but because I thought I’d be too much of a disappointment. After completing the test I spent an hour figuring out the most gracious way to apologize for not being enough. It’s common, but not something to accept and we’re all working on it. I just thought it was important to mention because art is also a mental journey and forces you to do all this navel-gazey shit in order to advance, and feeling like you are Not Enough is rife in the creative community. The work feels entangled with my value as a person because art is a massive part of my life. Something I’m learning is that I don’t have to be confident or sure of myself all the time. This ensures that the process is usually painful and frightening. Often there’s no way to make it less painful or frightening, and I just have to hold my breath and do it. An oddly comforting thing to me the past couple years is to remind myself that the scary thing I’m about to do won’t be the scariest thing I’ll ever do. I implies both that this isn’t the pinnacle of my progress and also that I will inevitably get over it. If you continue with art you’re going to run into things like this and I guess if it was me it would’ve been helpful to know I’m not alone in it.

I hope that maybe answered some of your questions, maybe? If you have some specific questions feel free and I’ll try my best. Hope you have a good day/night!

#anon #asks

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artisqueer · 4 years ago

Text

RetroBangBoy AU - The Hangover (ao3)

Notes:

hang·o·ver /ˈhaNGˌōvər/ noun 1. a thing that has survived from the past. Example: "a hangover from the fifties" 2. a severe headache or other after-effects caused by an excessive intake of alcohol or drugs

Characters: OT7

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol.

Jungkook wakes up parched, hungry, and with a pounding in his head. He pushes the covers off his face and down his chest. His long fluffy hair standing from the static of the sheets. He stretches out his arms above his head, dragging out a groggy yawn. It feels like he’s just woken up from a century-long nap. He looks up past his hands outstretched in the air. The posters above his bed are the same. He looks down, past his bare feet at the bottom of the bed. His drum set, books, and gadgets are all in their place too.

Huh…what year is it?

A heavy thump on the other side of the wall startles him out of bed. The crash is immediately followed by a low moan. Jungkook dashes out to the hall where Yoongi is already standing at the entrance of the bedroom next door. His eldest roommate chuckles behind a mug of coffee, head tilted 90 degrees to the side. Jungkook peers inside the room to see the source of the ruckus, his round head naturally tilts to the side as well. They both stand in the doorway, observing their housemate, Namjoon.

On the floor, upside down, legs folded over his shoulders.

“Where are we?” he asks as he looks up at them from between his thighs.

Yoongi shuffles back to the kitchen, holding his head in pain. “It looks like we’re not in Jeju anymore…” His voice is raspy and deep.

***

Jungkook’s round eyes bounce back and forth across their house, looking for clues to explain their current predicament. His head is throbbing with pain too. He suddenly remembers his thirst and runs to the kitchen for water.

Once Namjoon has restored himself to a perpendicular position, he joins them in the kitchen too.

“Why does my head hurt? Did we get shit-faced last night?” Jungkook groans into the kitchen counter.

“I can’t remember,” Yoongi grimaces between gulps of coffee.

“Is it a week-day? We have never gone out on a school night… I would never go out on a school night!” Namjoon folds his thick arms across his chest and blinks. “I’m so hungry.”

Jungkook turns away from the sink and his eyes pop at the sight. A whole ass meal, complaining about the lack of a meal...in the kitchen of all places. pls.

“Me too. We better go out for food. There’s nothing to eat here.” Yoongi says with very little energy.

“How can that be? I always stock up on groceries!” Namjoon frantically checks the cabinets and cupboards, finding them all bare.

“What the hell did we do?” The two eldest housemates look at one another, dumbfounded. Jungkook leans into the kitchen wall, aggressively chewing on his thumb. He's nervous, eyes big and wide. He opens his mouth to speak when the phone rings.

Ring ring ring.

Namjoon answers it, rather desperately. “Hello?”

“Good, you’re home.” The voice on the other end breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s me. Taehyung. Emergency meeting. Your place. Now!”

***

“So, we’re all blacked out from yesterday. We have the worst hangover of our lives. And Bighead and Jin are missing…” Jungkook repeats as he paces back and forth the living room.

Hoseok enters the breakfast nook and sets down an extra-large pan of sunny side eggs and sausage. He steps back before the starved men wipe it clean.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re all so hungry today,” Hoseok scorns them as a smile grows on his lips. He’s thrilled that he finally gets to cook for them. Jin normally does all the cooking.

“You’re not going to eat?” Jimin asks him from behind a mouth full of food.

“I just don’t feel hungry,” Hoseok shrugs. He wipes his hands on his apron. “I brought us enough groceries to last through the week, so eat well.” Oddly, Hoseok has more energy than everyone in the room put together.

Taehyung speaks from the head of the table. “Guys, we’re not all blacked out—which is why I called everyone here..."

They look up at him from their plates, still eating like the food will be taken away if they stop.

"I remember everything.”

Jungkook interrupts. “Wait. Has anyone checked the date?!” He wiggles out of his chair and nearly trips running to the front porch, where the Sunday paper should be.

Having just eaten to the brim, Yoongi yawns and casually turns on the TV set, out of habit. The display does something completely new. Huh, TVs don't have color? Jimin and Hoseok are most mesmerized by this, moving to sit at the foot of the screen as a Coca-Cola commercial plays:

It's more than taste,

Bigger than a name,

As big as your best times,

As good as your best friends,

As real as the way you feel…

Jungkook runs back with the newspaper all spread out into disarray like his long dark hair. “Um…guys?”

There’s a long pause in the room.

“We’re not in the fifties anymore…”

What—

Their wide eyes look from him to the television and back. There’s only one thing that could mean coming from Jungkook…and it’s not good.

“We, uh, must’ve jumped twenty-seven years into the future,” he scratches the back of his round head. “It’s...1985.”

Taehyung clears his throat. “You guys will need to sit down for this. I can explain.”

***

They gather in the living room. Namjoon and Yoongi take up the couch, Jungkook sits on the floor between them, and Hoseok and Jimin share the love seat.

Taehyung’s knack for taking pictures and love for journalism make him a natural storyteller. His fine hands sway in the air as he talks. “You all have varying degrees of memory loss. For some very strange reason, I can remember everything that’s happened to us in the last 48 hours.”

Tae recounts their field trip and the events leading up to the portal inside the Manjjanggul Lava tube. How Jin wanted to hide the portal from the lab, Heaven Inc., but Jungkook wanted to destroy it. How Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi stormed the cave clearing as Jungkook was opening the portal gate. How Namjoon and Jin fought each other as the cave collapsed. And most importantly, how they were all unexpectedly pulled into the warp after Jungkook. All, except Jin and their beloved Bighead.

Their memories start coming back to them, piece by piece. Oddly, it’s as though only Taehyung could trigger their recollections.

“I don’t understand.” Namjoon finds his glasses and puts them on. Suddenly, he looks more like a professor than a biker. Big-tiddied mathematician. “Why is Taehyung the only one who remembers what happened?”

Taehyung thinks for a moment before an unusual blush forms at his cheeks. “Probably ‘cause I appreciate art. So, I remembered.”

“Uhm, ok. And why doesn’t Hoseok have hangover symptoms like the rest of us?” Yoongi crosses his arms, which seemingly grew thicker in the micro-span of the jump.

Hoseok vibrates from his place next to Jimin. His bright smile radiating through the room. “Ooh, I know I know. ‘Cause I’m your hope! Everyone was totally beat, but I could give you my energy. Like sunshine to a dying plant or light at the end of a dark tunnel or a—”

“—mOtH tO a FlAmE,” the rest mock. Apparently, no one forgot Hoseok’s notorious house party pick-up lines. They all laugh.

Could this be? Do some of the jocks have certain abilities now? What about the bikers?

“We have another problem: where is Sweetcheeks, and Seokjin?” Taehyung seems frustrated.

“And another problem: why did we all get warped with Jungkook in the first place?” Jimin pouts. “What about our families, and my—”

“—Cat! Your cat! Cats have nine lives. For three they play, for three they stray and for the last three, they stay. Why...did I just say that? It feels so familiar, so stran—” Yoongi stops talking out loud, resorting to mumbling to himself instead. He quickly grabs the paper from Jungkook and begins searching it for something.

The others continue to talk over each other, flooded with their worries and bits of things they’re starting to remember. The upcoming homecoming game, the unattended house parties, mourning parents, exams, etc.

“Quiet!” Namjoon’s clear and booming voice silences the room.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook fiddles with his tattooed fingers. “I-I don’t know why I dragged you all here with me. That’s what I have to figure out. I will figure it out. I promise. I’m worried too. If Bighead and Jin didn’t get warped here with us, maybe they, they ended up in a different d—” they sit in silence, thinking the worst.

“No no, that can’t be,” Namjoon reassures. “Given everyone’s memory lapse and their expert recklessness, they may have just wandered off.”

“We have to go back,” Jungkook says. “We have to go back to 1958.”

“How? We’re stuck here,” Yoongi deadpans, his nose still in the paper.

“Actually,” Jimin recalls, “on my way over here I stopped by the coffee shop…and um…well my boss didn’t recognize me at all. He didn’t even know my name.” Jimin’s worries grow. It’s unlike Jimin to walk down the street without a single greeting. He is—was—very popular.

“It's starting to make sense...” Jungkook says under his breath.

“What does, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s jaw does the thing.

“People don’t recognize us in this place because,” he pauses, “because we’re not from here. I don’t mean this town, I mean, this dimension.”

Namjoon presses a finger to his lips, thinking.

“We should pick new names and find temporary jobs. To blend in. We can't go back to school, we don't have identification. We need the money anyway,” Yoongi advises, “to support ourselves while Jungkook figures out a way back.” Yoongi seems to have become incredibly wiser after the jump. He peels the paper apart, pen in hand, circling jobs from the employment section. He looks up from the paper again. “How did I know to say that?”

“Whoa, are you like, a genius now?” Jimin sasses, as much to tease him as to distract from the impending doom that is being stuck in the future.

“No.” Yoongi scoffs, withholding a severe blush. “It’s like I’ve read all the books at the library, and lived nine lives since we left 1958. I just, know things.”

Namjoon nods in agreement. “It’s the best plan we’ve got. If twenty-seven years have passed since our “disappearance”, then our sudden re-emergence could bring unwanted attention, or worse…”

“Could someone still be looking for us after all years?” Jimin asks Tae. Hoseok instantly understands and wraps him in a comforting embrace.

“We need to sort this out as quietly as possible. Let’s keep low profiles until we figure out a way to get back to 1958. I don’t want us to get tangled in loose ends.” Namjoon sighs somberly. Being the leader of the biker gang has made him a suitable leader for whatever mish-mosh-of-a-gang this is now. “We’re in a different dimension and we don’t entirely know what that means. It could be dangerous, but as long as we stick together we will be okay. My priority is to keep us all safe.”

At this declaration, all eyes sparkle. Especially, Jungkook’s.

“I got us here, Joon. You can trust me to find us a way home,” Jungkook gets up from the floor, making for the door.

“Stop!” Jimin interrupts. “We can’t go out dressed like this.”

They look down at their clothes. They are still in their 50s outfits.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Yoongi puts down the paper and pouts.

Hoseok pounces off the sofa, “YES! New clothes…get up get up! We’re off to the mall!” He tosses his apron aside and leads them out the front door. Namjoon and Yoongi groan, dragging their feet toward the back of the group.

Jungkook smiles ear to ear. Maybe the world is not quite right, but everything he truly wants is right here with him.

#retrobangboy #bts fic #bts #bts art #bts fanart #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #retro jungkook #80s #biker!jungkook

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breitzbachbea · 3 years ago

Note

#11 and #41 for turgre!

Thank you for sending the prompt in!

Fanfic Trope Mash Up

#11 Neighbour AU + #41 Big Damn Kiss =

Herakles & Sadık are both recent university graduates from Athens & İstanbul, but find themselves lacking opportunities to work in their homecountries. So they go abroad to try their luck elsewhere.

Both end up in Germany. Herakles' is living with the Simonides old family friends who've either migrated decades ago or are living as expats in Germany. Natasa and Ibrahim welcome Herakles with open arms. He immediately makes friends with their twins, only a few years younger than him. Omar and Timothea, as they're called, are still living with their parents while they're attending the local university. They're not living in luxury, but they're happy.

Sadık manages to get in contact with Havva Be Yauno via some university acquaintances. They migrated to Germany a while ago, after being kicked out working in local administration. Sadık gets to share a small flat in the building Havva manages for the landlord, together with a Kurdish Woman called Dilan Taş. After some initial hiccups, the two become close friends.

The hiccups with their neighbours next door are less initial. No, that's a lie - The Simonides don't mind their new neighbours, even invite them for coffee and tea. Omar pretty quickly evolves a crush on Dilan.

It's just Herakles and Sadık who keep butting heads.

They argue about petty semantics that only people who studied 'breadless art' would care about. Herakles complains that they're too loud at night. Sadık says Herakles is dragging stray cats into the house by leaving out food & now the whole staircase stinks. There's always something.

As time goes on, they get over themselves a little. Too busy with their own life. Sadık feeds the cats with scraps he gets from the Turkish butcher. Herakles comes over after it's been eerily quiet for weeks and finds out that Sadık's latest odd job makes him work at night. He actually finds him slumped over on the kitchen table when Dilan lets him in before she leaves for work. He goes back and leaves him a package of expensive coffee beans that he had imported from Greece.

One night, they end up together on the university campus. Sitting on the steps surrounding a piece of green near a small river. The city's barely still awake, there's only music, TV and chatter from the dorms. The occassional student crossing after they stayed late at the library.

"What did you actually study?" Sadık asked and put the lighter back into his pocket. It was a cheap one with a wheel. Pain in the ass to get working at this point. His last money had been spent on the cigarettes themselves.

Herakles took a deep breath through his nose. He stared at the water, flowing invisibly except for a few dancing white and orange specks. "Philosophy," he said.

Sadık chuckled and the chuckle quickly became a laugh. "Oh, what a surprise that you couldn't find a job with such a prestigious degree." He grinned and exhaled some smoke.

"And history. Archaeology, Politics, Linguistics, Architecture, Maths... I dipped my toes into physics, too, for a little bit, but couldn't really make it."

Sadık's grin had long faltered. Herakles looked to the river. A smile replaced the initial surprise on Sadık's face. "Oho, a real Renaissance man, aren't you?"

"I like to learn. But all I could do with the few fields I actually managed to acquire a degree in was teach in school. And I'm just not... very good at that." He sighed. Long. "But my dad had stopped paying once I had gotten a job, not that he had ever really paid me enough, mind you, so... I had nowhere to go if I had quit."

"Except here." Sadık wished Herakles would have looked at him. To even catch a glimpse of him, a little bit of that beautiful face illuminated by the pale moon or the orange streetlights.

"Except here." Sadık finally had his wish granted. "What did you study?"

Sadık took a deep breath through his nose. His cigarette was almost finished. "Architecture, too. Tried to get into engineering, but couldn't quite make it. Would have loved to do Literature, frankly. I dunno, get a teaching position at an university, but Anne* always had higher plans for me. Career woman and all that, only wanted the best for me, too, so studying something almost as useless as philosophy wasn't really up for debate."

Now he was the one to stare into the river while he took another drag. He looked at his feet. His shoes could need a good cleaning.

"A smoking literature professor, how cliché," Herakles said and the deep shadows on his face hid how much it reflected the amusement in his voice. He leant in closer to Sadık and put a hand on his thigh. His inner thigh. "All the women would have gone wild over this."

"You think so?" Sadık asked, an expectant but cautious smirk on his face. Rest of his cigarette between his fingers. Herakles' weight on his thigh. He enjoyed his touch. The nights were so cold here in Germany. He leant in for a kiss.

Herakles' hand disappeared. "But I don't kiss smokers." The next moment, Sadık was engulfed in darkness as Herakles stood and blocked the streetlight. He turned and adjusted his jacket. "I have a job interview tomorrow, so see you around, I guess." He turned to just the right angle that Sadık could catch his grin.

He only had a dumbfounded stare as goodbye while Herakles climbed the stairs back to street level.

Some time after this incident, Herakles gets a job as research assisstant at the local university. It's initially only for a project of the history facculty, but he's happy nonetheless.

Now that he knows Sadık enjoys literature, he tells the Simonides one time the topic crops up & they know of a regional literature club, who's holding public reading nights. Any author can show up and read their pieces for 10 Minutes to an audience. Omar tells Dilan, who knows that Sadık writes poetry. She thinks he should go and so after she bullied him into it, they do.

Sadık becomes a regular guest there and ends up meeting other literature enthusiasts, like the Beilschmidts. (He and Gilbert bicker a lot about what the other writes, both trying to take the other down a peg). Sadık never tells Herakles any of this.

So imagine his surprise when he spots him one night in the audience. Afterwards, he's torn between sneaking out and going straight up to him, but Herakles makes the decision for him.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Herakles finally broke the awkward stare-off.

"Well, now you do." Sadık closed his book and shoved it under his arm. With a grin, he asked: "You think it's good?"

Despite what followed, Herakles couldn't wipe the smile off his face: "I enjoyed it more than the other guy's crime story, at least."

Sadık gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, you don't know half of it, Gilbert's been trying to make it work since forever. You got time for a coffee?"

So life's good. They're hanging out, they're working, they're pursueing their passions. One time, the heater in Sadık and Dilan's flat breaks and despite Havva trying their best to get it repaired and them a temporary replacement, they're freezing their asses off. So they go and visit their neighbours, who offer them to sleep over. Sadık is supposed to sleep on the couch. Dilan is supposed to sleep on a mattress in the Simonides' room. Both somehow end up sleeping in a Greek's bed instead. (Herakles has a really small room - his desk is even in the twins' room cuz it wouldn't fit in his own. Sadık asks if he wants coffee and they end up drinking coffee in his bed together and talk until they fall asleep.)

Life could be rosy. That is until one day, the Simonides get into real trouble with the landlord. You see, Natasa and Havva always had a tense relationship, because Natasa doesn't believe in playing by the rules too much, while Havva is a very organized person. However, now some things - like mayhaps Herakles living with them - have gotten directly to the landlord of the building and they're not amused. They threaten to evict them, unless Herakles is going - and want a hefty fine from the Simonides either way.

Getting a new home would mean severe financial strain, not to mention the fine. Omar and Thea may would have to pause or drop their studies. Herakles would have to go back to Greece and start from scratch.

Which he's willing to do, seeing how much trouble he caused the family, even if it breaks his heart. Natasa is having none of it - "I'm not sending you back to your son of a bitch, deadbeat dad, Iraklis" - and insists he stays.

Dilan and Sadık get wind of all of this and they're just as devasted as the family itself. They don't want to lose their neighbours. They don't want this to ruin Omar's and Thea's future. They don't want Herakles to leave. Sadık doesn't want Herakles to leave.

So he pleads with Havva to do something, anything, he'll help them do whatever it takes. Natasa is far too proud to do so. Maybe she even suspects that Havva had something to do with it. (They don't).

And through a lot of negotiation, bribery and running errands, the Simonides get to stay. Omar and Thea can continue pursueing their degrees in peace. Herakles gets to stay and keep working in Germany.

"You... You've spent your past weeks on this?" Herakles' stare pierced Sadık as much as it seemed to look right through him. His mouth hung open, jaw slack. "This was all your doing?"

Sadık took a deep breath, but had to settle for a rather unintelligent "Well, yeah." Herakles' stare unsettled him. He had never seen him at a loss for words before. He was even afraid the other might faint.

A heartbeat later, Sadık was afraid he might faint. Herakles had taken a step towards him, grabbed his face and pressed his lips onto Sadık's. It knocked the breath out of him.

His lips were soft. They were so soft and hot and melded with his own effortlessly.

He kissed back, hands on Herakles' face, fingers buried in the messy hairy. The pressure between them was right, felt right, made them one for a brief eternity.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun. They both took a deep breath through their nose and Herakles panted loudly as he exhaled through the mouthm He swallowed.

"Herakles, I don't think that that's an appropriate enough Thank you", Ibrahim said, but neither of the two barely even registered it. Natasa laughed. Loudly.

"Oh, no, I think it's more than enough," Sadık replied as he stared at the wall next to Herakles' head. His hands were still on his face. "Although..." Ibrahim and Natasa were talking in Greek when he faced Herakles again. She still chuckled while a grin stole itself onto his face. "I think I could go for a little bit more gratitude, after all we've done."

"Don't push it," Herakles warned him. Yet, his cockyness was rewarded with another kiss.

Sadık's tongue slipped between his lips effortlessly. As if it belonged there.

Like Herakles belonged here.

So... yeah! I hope you liked it!

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tundrainafrica · 3 years ago

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Hi Sav. Sorry for this rather personal question, but I’ve always find you a very wise older sister. I remember you saying that you change career? I did that too, I left a very well prestigious career to another one that I felt more at ease. Have you ever regret your decision? I sometimes still think of the what if. Also, did your parents got mad at you? Do you have any life advice for this nervous mess of a person? Haha

Thanks for the question! Don't apologize for that. I'm actually touched people are actually curious about this so brace yourself for a bunch of bull shit about my life.

I remember you saying that you change career?

LMAO MY LIFE IS A MESS.

I graduated with two degrees, economics and environmental science and I decided last minute to apply to law school. Then I did a human resources job for a few months then I decided to drop law school to focus on work cause I had a job already that was offering me higher than what I would have gotten with law then I realized I kinda hated human resources and thank god they laid me off.

But here's the thing, if your first job gives you a good salary, it's pretty much smooth sailing from there because every job after that will usually do their best to beat the your first salary.

I work in business development, tech support, software testing etc. It's a job which wears a lot of hats?

And I kinda still make use of my econ degree since I trade stocks on the side.

But about environmental science, I opted not to continue with environmental science cause given the current situation in the country, I'm probably gonna get shot.

Have you ever regretted your decision?

Yes but I think given my own thinking habits, it’s kinda normal for me to think really hard about everything? Like I constantly feel like I would have done better in every single other job but you know it's that type of sadness where I'm all like sad for five seconds, I take a deep breath and I just move on.

I applied to medical tracks and law tracks even when I was in high school. I just opted not to pursue those either. I considered taking the talent test for piano in the music conservatory and I started preparing for that already and I opted not to pursue those either.

So I think about how easily my life would have changed, if I just did something differently but I don't feel really strong regret if that's what you're asking.

I wouldn't have met my boyfriend for example if I didn't take my environmental science degree. I wouldn't have joined the chess team or met my friends there if I didn't take an economics degree because the one who introduced them to me was my economics classmate.

And, yeah I probably wouldn't have gotten into Levihan in the first place or written any fanfiction if I pursued law school.

I wouldn't have met the amazing people in my company if I didn't pick that job so everything just seems to work out in the end, and when I try to assess the decisions I COULD have made, I realize, those decisions wouldn't have been me anymore because a lot of the weird decisions I have made are the reason I'm here today and I'm pretty okay with where I am.

Also, did your parents got mad at you?

My parents aren't the type to get 'mad.'

They get disappointed and they just would be glaringly not excited about what I do if I do something they don’t want me to do.

They really wanted a doctor in the family and they really wanted a lawyer too. My sister is already a doctor so there was no big pressure for me to end up a lawyer. It does kinda hurt when I hear my parents talking about all eight of their kids being successful (except me) and how they spend so much money on the education of my siblings because they HEAVILY support all their hobbies and their general fields of study.

Do you have any life advice for this nervous mess of a person?

Know what you want.

THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. Because the last thing you want to do is be really miserable where you are. It's difficult to know what you want but I found, you can easily summarize it to something comprehensible.

Think to yourself, what is the most important things to you and rank them: Money? Family? Career? Friends? Love? Freedom? Hobbies? Bucket List? And from there, that's when you decide what type of job you're going to take or what type of field you want to get into or your plans for future studies for example.

Because unless you're REALLY lucky, you can't really have all of them, usually just one to two at a time since we all have 24 hours a day, a very mortal body etc.

And then people ask, what is the barometer of success? Money? Career? Family? Love?

It's achieving what you want and being satisfied with it. I think a happy and satisfied middle class person is miles more successful than an angry and overly resentful millionaire.

So if you wanna be successful, know what you want and value.

Have a good relationship with failure.

I think a lot of what influences people's decisions is a fear of failure or a fear of making the wrong decision but I personally found that a lot of things end up working out anyway if you just focus on the process of doing instead of the actual result.

Because all of us fail at something anyway and besides, when has nervousness or fear ever made us better decisionmakers?

Don’t be stupid with money

Do you need millions? No not really but I think how much money or savings you have will definitely impact your power to make decisions or pursue your interests or to just save yourself from completely fucking yourself over in the future so I think it's worth mentioning.

Build a credit rating as quickly as you can. Buy stuff on credit even if you know you can afford it and pay your debt on time so you can build a relationship with banks because these will be the people who will be lending you money for your house or your car. You save more money borrowing from the banks than paying off installments straight to companies.

Have money in stocks, mutual funds or other monetary instruments. Inflation happens every year and the value of the money you keep on deposit WILL go down. Your wages will not get higher as quickly as inflation applies to money so if you can, try to put money on investments if you have disposable income. My rule of thumb is try to earn at least 10% a year from monetary instruments to offset inflation

That's pretty much it, if you actually read this haha, thanks for reading I guess?

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write-orflight · 4 years ago

Text

Like Real People Do. (Spencer x Reader)

Chapter 1

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 2

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: regular CM crime stuff. brief mentions of previous assault. vomit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N Thanks for the love on the Prologue, message to be added to taglist. much love Cia

Chapter 1: However scary

You start to follow Hotch outside his office, barely containing the smile on your face. You couldn’t help it, the job you’ve been dreaming about for a decade was yours now. As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice the short Italian man exiting his.

“Rossi?” You smiled. The man in question turned and grinned upon seeing you.

“Bella!” He opened his arms to hug you which you automatically accepted.

“I thought you retired, old man.”

Rossi scoffed. “You know me, can’t stay away for long.” Hotch stepped up, joining you guys. “So am I correct in assuming you’ve taken the job?” Rossi asks.

“You would be correct.” You smile. “And now, since I have a big girl job and can take care of myself. I’m hoping those mysterious money drops into my bank account will stop.” You gave him a knowing look. Though you and Rossi were not as close as you and Hotch, you still revered him as a father figure as much as he did you a daughter.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says holding up his hands.

“Sure you don’t, old man.” You laughed. “How’s… Krystal?” You say trying to remember which wife Rossi was on now.

“Divorced.” Rossi smirks.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Dave. I thought 3 would be the lucky number.”

“So did I.” Rossi smiled. “How’s Persephone?” David smiles widely at the mention of your adoptive mother's name.

“Still not interested in becoming number 4.” You laughed, inducing a boisterous laugh from Dave and a small chuckle from Hotch. “She’s currently backpacking through India and building eco houses along the way.”

“Sounds like Persephone.” David smiles. You guys continue to catch up for a couple of more minutes not noticing the team staring up at you from the bullpen.

“Do you guys know who she is?” Emily asks

“No but Rossi and Hotch know her by the looks of it.” Derek replies.

“I met her in the elevator.” Spencer speaks up. “Her name’s Y/N.”

“Wonder what she's doing here.” Derek says as Penelope walks up with a tin of her famous cookies that Spencer is already reaching for. She pulls back so it’s out of reach from his perch on his desk.

“Well, if she took the job then that is your newest team member.” Penelope smiled. “Hotch asked me to do a background check last week so I assume he’s hiring her. Which means these cookies are for her.” She says pulling even more back as Spencer continues to make grabby hands at the tin.

“Why does she get cookies her first day? I didn’t get any on my first day.” Spencer points out, not caring how much he sounds like a child.

“I’m not really allowed to talk about it, but let’s just say I think she could really use the kindness.”

“What did you find out about her, Baby girl?” Derek asked.

Penelope frowns slightly, she never liked keeping secrets, especially from the team. “I’m really not allowed to say, but what I can tell you is that she’s smart, like really smart. Maybe not Reid’s level but smart enough to make dean's list at an Ivy League every year.”

“Which school?” Spencer asks.

“Stanford.”

Spencer nods. That would make her pretty smart, that or just good at school. As he’s exiting his thoughts, JJ walks past them, throwing a “We have a case.” Over her shoulder before heading to Rossi, Hotch and the new girl.

We all begin filing into the conference room, Rossi, Hotch and Y/N walking in last. Hotch clears his throat. “This is Agent Y/L/N.” He says gesturing at you. “She will be joining us this case. I’m sure you guys will get around to formal introductions later.” Hotch says before taking a seat nodding at JJ to start. You hold up your hand in a small wave before taking a seat next to Hotch. Everyone else regards you with a small nod except a brightly dressed blonde woman who excitedly waves back at you.

“We’re heading to Nashville.” A blonde woman, you assume, is JJ says pulling up images of victims on the screen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, you were used to crime scene photos, you studied several in the FBI academy but kids would always get to you. “3 boys ages 10-13 all have gone missing on their way home from school, all found 5 days later buried arms across chest, heads shaved.”

“Signs of remorse are obviously there but the hair...is something different.” A dark haired woman pointed out.

“Could be trichophilia.” You pointed out. Everyone looked at you, you cleared your throat under the scrutiny. “Trichophilia. It’s the fetishzation of hair.” You provide. Everyone nods and JJ continues to provide information on the case before Hotch announces wheels up in 30. You go to grab your files and notebook when the brightly dressed blonde woman ambushes you a tin fully extended to you.

“Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia, and these are for you!” practically shoving the tin into your hands.

“Thank you, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, you weren’t really a sweets person but you weren’t going to turn down the kindness. A brown skinned man and the dark haired woman from before walked up to you both.

“I’m Emily Prentiss, this is Derek Morgan” she says both holding their hands out for you to shake. You shuffle the cookies and files into one arm to shake hands with them.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You say back.

“So you seemed to already know Hotch?” Derek pointed out.

You had been prepared for someone to ask about that so you rattled off your prepared speech. “Yes, Hotch is a family friend.” That seemed like the easiest way to explain your relationship.

“So that’s how you were able to steamroll in here, huh? Friends with the boss?” The man laughs.

“No, I think it might’ve been one of my several degrees, merits or letters of recommendation, one of which from the director himself.” You point out. “Though I suppose knowing Aaron didn’t necessarily hurt things.”

Derek holds up his hands in surrender. “That could be true too. I guess we’ll see out on the field.” He says before him and Prentiss walk out.

You sigh heavily and start heading out the same way before a small voice pipes up behind you.

“They’ll come around.”

You turn your eyes onto the man you had met in the elevator before. “Sorry?”

“Morgan and Prentiss. They’ll come around, they acted like that towards me when I first started too. It’s-uh because you’re young.”

You nodded. He had a point and so did Morgan in a sense. You were very young, seemingly too young to be starting in a field like this. You knew it’d be hard to believe Hotch didn’t pull some strings for you.

“I knew my age would probably raise some questions. But I worked really hard, and it sucks I have to prove myself 10x over just because of my age.”

“I understand.” He says, following you out of the conference room.

“I felt like you would. You introduced yourself as Dr. Reid before but we look around the same age.”

“Yes, I hold 3 doctorates.”

“Three?!” You said incredulously. “What were you like, eleven starting college?”

“12, actually.” He smiles. He has a nice smile, instantly crosses your brain. You dash that thought immediately.

“That would have to make you some sort of genius.”

“I believe there’s not quantifiable way to measure intelligence but I suppose by societal standards, I am. I have an IQ of 187.”

You let out a deep whistle. “And here I thought I’d be the smart one.” You laugh.

He fumbles a bit over his words. “I-I mean you still could be. L-Like I said, there’s no way to accurately measure intelligence.”

You laugh before rounding your new desk grabbing your go bag underneath it. “Thanks for the vote of confidence but we both know that’s not true.” You smile before turning to head towards the jet.

——————————————————

You and the team had been in Madison county for 4 days now and you were hitting a wall. The day you arrived there had been a 4th body found, same cause of death, same shaved head only this time the word HELP was carved into the boy’s back. You knew this was a part of the job, going to crime scenes and having to see bodies but you couldn’t stop the thoughts. His hands were on your neck again, his knife grazing your sides. You felt the bile rise up.

“Pull over.” You all but scream to Morgan he nods, zipping the car to the side of the road. You instantly hop out and release your lunch.

Morgan steps out and pats your back. “It’s alright, kid. First one’s never easy. Especially when it’s children.”

He thinks you’re sick from the crime scene You think. That’s probably for the best.

“Thanks.” You mumble. He nods as you guys wordlessly walk back to the SUV.

Since then you’ve been at the police station working on the geographical profile with Spencer. You know Morgan had probably said something to Hotch about your upchuck and that was why you were stuck here. But still, you couldn’t think to complain. Spencer was incredibly smart and great to work with.

“There’s something we’re missing.” He says off handedly. You nod agreeing. You take in the circle like pattern the unsub seemed to be going in. It didn’t make sense. You had profiled him as a socially awkward loner with an overbearing parent. He wasn’t good with adults but could somehow get kids to trust him. Enough to get into the car with him late at night. It hit you a second later.

“Oh my god.” You said scrambling for your phone to call Garcia. Spencer looks over at you, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’ve reached your high priestess.” You hear Penelope’s voice come through the speaker.

“Hey Garcia, it’s Y/N.” You say. “Can you tell me what business is near the first dump site? I have an idea.”

You hear the faint sound of clacking as she finds the information for you. “Looks to be a bus lot.” You fought the urge to pump your fist in the air. You were right.

“Alright Garcia. I need a background check on all school bus drivers in Madison county, cross check it with anything that would fit the profile so minor stalking charges, assault…” you train off. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You ask.

“If I get started now, a couple hours.” She says. “Penelope out.” She says, hanging up.

You look up to see Spencer looking right back at you. “A bus driver.” You say smiling. “Think about it, everyday you ride the bus home from school and play outside with your friends until late. And when you're heading home your bus driver approaches you in his car offering to take you back. You have no reason not to trust him because he’s brought you home safely so many times before.” You explain, a brief frown grazing your lips. These children met an untimely demise all for trusting someone they were supposed to trust.

Spencer nods, taking in your words. “Good work,” he says. “You figured it out.”

You flushed under the high praise. “I’m sure you would’ve come to the same conclusion given more time.” You say.

“But I didn’t.” He says. “You did, and you probably saved another kid's life in the meantime.” He smiled and patted your shoulder before turning back to the board.

You looked at his back for a while. You knew since you stepped on the elevator that first time you were attracted to Spencer Reid. He was tall with a lean build and a nice set jaw and incredibly smart. You’d be lying to yourself if that wasn’t your exact type. But on top of all that, he was nice. Almost sickeningly so.

Suddenly you felt a lot more at risk than before.

————————————————

William Davison was arrested September 7th. You were right, he was a bus driver for Madison county. Police caught him in his car full of things that pointed him directly to the abductions.

You and the team were now back on the jet heading home. While the rest team was playing cards you opted to sit in the back. Textbooks laid out on the table as you tried to take notes from them. You were so engrossed. You didn’t see Spencer come take the seat in front of you.

“What’re you studying?” He asked.

You look up. “Uh, I’m in my doctoral program for psychology right now.” You say. “Right now, I’m working on an essay about nature vs. nurture effects on the killer's mind.”

“And what is your theory?” He asks.

“That while I do believe nurture plays a role somewhat, if someone has a predisposition to kill, hurt or maim that is something they are born with. Primates and to some effects humans are naturally empathetic creatures so I think people with the desire for violence are defects. Now even though that’s the case it’s still your own conscious decision to kill.” You say pausing. “Some people are born with natural predispositions they don’t follow all the time. Like your hands for instance.”

“What about my hands?” He inquired.

You swallow, clearing your throat. “Well you have fairly large hands, with l-long fingers.” You stutter. Nice going, Y/N. You think. Way to tell the guy you’re starting to develop a crush on that you’ve been staring at his hands. “In the primitive stage, that would’ve made you good at hunting and gathering. In a more modern sense, you’d be good at piano. Though I imagine, you don’t do either.” You say, already knowing the answer. You were a profiler now after all.

“No, I do not.” He smiled widely at you, he always appreciated intelligent conversation when it came by. “I disagree with your theory though.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You question. He begins to go on a long winded explanation why he thinks Nature vs. Nurture is outdated, taking several detours to talk about some other theories he’s found interesting. You watch him intensely taking in the words. You try to pay attention, you really do. But your eyes keep going back to the mouth the rapid words are coming out of and the hands that are also gesturing widely. You just had tuned back in when he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he says, looking mildly uncomfortable. “It’s just… no one lets me talk for this long.”

“Really?” You question, he nods. “Well, I was listening, I find it interesting. Actually…” you trail off picking up your pen, flipping to a new page in your notebook. “Do you mind if I write some of this down, might come in handy when I write my paper later.”

He nods enthusiastically as he continues his thoughts from before. You start writing fast now to keep up, interjecting here and there to ask him to expand on some stuff. Eventually the rest of the team drifts off until it's only the sound of his soft voice and the scratch of your pen filling the plane.

Taglist: @haylaansmi

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 3

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5860 Archive of our own

Warning : Exhibitionism / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control/ Stranger / Flirting / Edging / Orgasm denial / Orgasm delay / Oral innuendo … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 -

Once I made my way to the living room, I stopped behind the couch and observed the scene unfolding in front of me, unsure of how to start the conversation with the intimidating man on my couch. If he’s Luffy’s friend, he must be alright, right? Giving him a once over, from what I could see, I saw he was tattooed all over his arms and hands. His ears were decorated with a few golden earrings which only added to the charm. Maybe I could start with that?

Walking around the couch, I could feel the vibration inside me at every step and had to keep a straight face until I slumped on the couch next to the stranger. Crossing my legs, I was going to lean my head on the back of the couch but felt his arm and straightened my back before saying, “So you’re the mysterious food benefactor of the night?” He turned around and raised a brow, smirking.

“And you’re the free loader?” Why was the way he said it so hot? I pondered internally. I was taken aback and suddenly wanted to yell at Nami for telling me it’d be ok. With a huff, and slightly warm cheeks, I quickly answered, with composure, “Tell me what I owe you, and I’ll pay my part. And, take the cap off inside. You look shady.” I huffed the last part as I glanced at the white hat on his head.

With the hand that was next to my shoulder, he slowly removed his hat and was going to place it on my head, but I grabbed it and dropped it next to him. “How much?” I repeated again, talking about the food.

“Nothing, at least now she’ll stop telling me I owe her. Which I don’t, by the way.” He explained, his gaze turned to Nami with a slight scowl. I mumbled a thank you.

There was something intimidating in his demeanor, even if you ignored the tattoos all over his arms. Sure, he was dressed casually, a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans but the way he carried himself threw me off. “Right, so, if you don’t owe her, why is she mad then?” I asked. I was going to sit tailor-style while waiting for the three others to finish preparing everything, when I felt the egg move inside and arched my back suddenly.

I quickly got hold of myself, I cleared my throat and looked at the man with an apologetic smile. He seemed curious, but did not say anything. Instead, his eyes observed me intently. “I won a bet. She does not like losing money, and she’s still mad about it.”

“It makes sense,” I hummed, this time crossing my arms over my chest. The conversation was probably over, I did not know what else to ask.

I still did not know his name, but I felt like it was a bit too late to ask. He does not seem too arrogant for now, I thought, very hot, and domineering but not annoying. Lost deep in thought, I suddenly felt something touch my shoulder and look at it to see the man’s hand nudging me. Startled, I contracted my abdomen, which only made me even more aware of what I had started before coming here.

“You look tensed, are you good?” He asked in a, surprisingly, caring tone. I laughed nervously and nodded, uncrossing my leg to look more relaxed than I actually was. A very very bad choice, whenever I’d move, I could feel the toy inside me and the knot in my stomach grow. “I’m great, great. So uh-“ I pointed at his hands, “Bold choice.”

“I suppose it is.” He hummed, not convinced with my answer.

“It’s hot, don’t get me wrong but I don’t think employers are fond of it. Doesn’t it make it harder to find a job?” We were interrupted when Robin handed us our plates, asking us if this was our order. I nodded and took it from her hand before putting the plate on my lap and thanked the black-haired friend for paying then waited for him to take his plate. I thought we’d eat in silence, observing the people in front of us, when he spoke up.

“That’s where wearing gloves come in handy.” He chuckled, taking of forkful of his food before continuing. My mind reacted at the mention of gloves, I remembered the picture HandSurgeon sent this morning and it only make the throbbing between my leg, stronger. “But patients don’t really care about the tattoos, they can’t be picky with who’s cutting them open, can they?” He stated dryly.

I looked back at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a dry reply. Then let out a nervous laugh, before genuinely laughing. “I was definitely not expecting that answer. But you’re not wrong.” I said with a small smile, “I suppose the pretty face balances the threatening aura, and the tattoos.” God why did I say that. I played it off and looked at the three people at the low table, shoving as much food as I could to stop myself from spurting embarrassing shit.

But it did not deter my tongue who seemed to have a will on its own, the man and I spoke at the same time. “So, you’re a doctor?” “Threatening aura?”

I choked on some small bite of food that stuck in my throat and grabbed the glass of water the man handed me. I was going to chug it down but he made a gesture for me to calm down, and drink slowly. While I did, he chuckled, “I work in the medical field, yes. But Nami forbids me to talk about it, maybe another time-“

“That’s right!” She ruffled his hair as she stood up with her empty plate, “No work-talk under my roof! Find yourself someone to spend time with instead of spending all your time at the hospital-“ Nami, who had interrupted the man, got interrupted in return when he told her he got it, that he’d stop mentioning his work but in return she’ll have to stop saying he had to find a partner. She just grumbled and returned to her conversation with Luffy and Robin.

Once I had calmed down, I handed him his glass back and watched him take a sip from it while looking at me straight in the eyes. His already messy hair looked worse after Nami had ruffled it, but he looked good. Perhaps it was because I was aroused, but I felt a certain tension when he did so. He may not have done it on purpose, but I couldn’t find the strength to look away. I stared right back at him, my hand gripping my fork tight when I clenched my wall around the egg, feeling a sudden pleasure. Fuck, this is not how I thought the night would go. But you asked for it, echoed my made-up voice of HandSurgeon in my head.

I masked the gasp that left my mouth by voicing a “Ahhh” of understanding then continued, “Very hot of you to, I assume, have graduated medical school.” Why couldn’t I just say it was great, or awesome? Why did I have to say it was hot? I had to take a deep breath and calm down.

“Glad to know hot and threatening can coexist.” He said with a lighter tone as he put his now empty plate on the arm of the couch before leaning ever so lightly towards me. “Tell me, do you often flirt with stranger you find threatening?”

The speed at which my brain reminded me of HandSurgeon surprised me, I did a lot of things with strangers, so, why not flirt? But I hadn’t really flirt with Luffy’s friend, right?

“Did I flirt, now? Haha. Sorry for the unsolicited advances, but you’re right, I should have asked your name first.” I said half-jokingly, meeting his intense gaze for the first time since he leaned over a bit too much now. To push him to introduce himself, I set my plate down and put my hand in front of me, for him to shake, and told him my name.

It’s with reluctance that he wrapped his large hand around mine and shook it, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Doctor Trafalgar Law.” He did not let go right away. Instead, he observed my reaction. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless, “The title is a bit too much, isn’t it? I mean… you did put the effort of studying a few years, I suppose, but I won’t address you as Doctor. Doc, at best, but-“

He seemed ticked off for a second but masked it and said, “Law is fine, but I put a lot more than a few years into that degree.”

“True, money too, and from what I gathered you also put in the price of a romantic life, am I right?” I blinked a few times, realizing that I either flirted or said something not appropriate. No in between. And it was the result of his pretty face, it made me nervous.

He looked at me up and down a few times then smirked, “That doesn’t mean I don’t fuck.” My breath hitched and I look anywhere but at him, instead choosing to focus on the way his tattooed fingers were splayed over his jeans, tapping from time to time. For a moment, I could imagine those hands gripping me tight, the blue color of his jeans being too close to the color of HandSurgeon’s scrubs only made it worse. I was starting to feel hot all over, I had to calm down and keep things casual.

The fuck am I averting my eyes for? Reminding myself to not be a little bitch, I looked at him once more. My stomach churned when I saw he was still staring at me. He must have seen my intent glare at his hands, hopefully he did not think I was judging him. The exact opposite was going in my head, I wanted those hands to work their way on my skin, gently gliding on my inner thighs. For fuck sake, clear your thoughts, I reprimanded myself the best I could but staying next to Law only worsened things.

“Good for you, good for you. A good fuck’s always nice, right?” I laughed nervously, “But since you’re so keen on bringing such a topic, I have a serious question here,” Was it really serious? No, it was definitely to satiate my curiosity but the way his brows quirked at my words made me feel things.

“Go ahead.”

“Do doctors have doctor kink, like- the whole nurse outfit, or… being called Doctor in a very very sexy way?” I did not expect the laugh that came from his throat. It surprised the rest of the people around who turned around and looked at us surprised.

Law did not pay them any mind; he placed his hands on his knee and made a pensive face. “That’s the first question that comes in your mind when someone tells you they work in the medical field?” He inquired, his tone a lot lower than before.

“I said no work-talk Traff’!” Nami said from her spot. Law groaned and threw her a deadly glare, “Stop with the nickname, and we’re not talking about work. Mind your own business.” I’ll never admit it out loud, but I thoroughly enjoyed his bossy tone, or was it annoyed? When he returned his attention to me, he sighed.

“Hey I’m sure it’s everyone’s first thought, right?” I was trying to lighten the tension, to make it more fun, but he was keen on keeping it the way it was. Moving his hand back on the back of the couch, there was a smug smile on his face as his hand graze my neck. I tensed but did not move, it was probably not done on purpose.

“It’s not. I get ask a lot of things, not this. I’d like to know what else you’re thinking about right now.” He breathed the last part in what I could only describe as seductive. This was too much, with his hand brushing the nape of my neck, his flirty attitude and the constant vibration inside me I quickly stood up. “Be right back, I uh- I need to do something- I’ll share my train of thought after! Promised!” He was startled and looked at me confused, but I did not care, I rushed back to my room and pulled out my phone.

Edelweiss: Still alive and I really need to get off. I did not expect there to be certain people and it has some effect. Clearly.

Edelweiss: Are you still busy?

Edelweiss: sir.

I paced the room, covering my mouth when a gasp escaped my throat from the sensation. I hated this, why did I suggest this, this is not fun. I want to touch myself; I want to get this tension out of my body. No, I need to. But this was clearly not happening. I considered doing it, even though HandSurgeon had told me not to, but reconsidered when I imagined the fun it would be tonight. Luckily, I did not have time to think more as my phone vibrated.

HandSurgeon: Some effect?

Edelweiss: don’t play dumb, he’s like… he kind of has your vibe, the hot vibe and it does not help at all with my predicament…

HandSurgeon: Check the attitude first. Now, we’re talking about the same predicament you asked to be in, right? The one you desperately begged to be in? The one you are clearly enjoying more than you thought you would, that same one? I think you put yourself in that situation, and you’ll get through it like the good girl I know you want to be.

HandSurgeon: It would be a shame to go back home, and see a message from you, telling me you caved and touched yourself. I’d be disappointed.

Groaning, I let myself fall on my bed and brought my phone close to my face. I read his words a few more times before replying.

Edelweiss: so you’ll be here tonight… sir?

HandSurgeon: If my evening does not stretch out, I’ll be sure to have fun with you.

HandSurgeon: If you’re good, of course. I like my fucktoy obedient and eager. Which you are, correct?

I had to take a second look at the name he gave me, I had yet to decide if I enjoyed it or not. But as I read it again, I was leaning towards it being positive. But should I make it easy?

Edelweiss: I’m not your fucktoy though, sir.

HandSurgeon: Hold onto that thought, we’ll see what you’ll say after tonight. I’ll ask again, and I’m fairly certain the answer will be different, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now, I have to leave, don’t force yourself if you feel like it’s too much.

HandSurgeon: But imagine how sensitive you’ll be tonight; how good it’ll feel when you’ll fuck yourself just for me. Your toy filling you just right, the burning sensation of your walls stretching… Putting on a show just for me…

Edelweiss: I get it, I get it… don’t make me imagine it too much or I won’t hold on until the end of the evening 😔

HandSurgeon: You will. See you tonight.

Seeing as the conversation had ended, I sat back up and shoved my phone in my back pocket. Talking to him had not help, at all. The pressure in my lower stomach had only grown, but I had to make do and keep socializing at least until Luffy and Law left.

Now standing up, I checked in the mirror if I had any darker spot from how wet I was and was relieved to see nothing. I had to hype myself to join everyone again, and once I did, they were all sitting around the low table, Law included. They did not pay any mind to my return, except Robin who patted the spot between her and Law, smiling. Returning the smile, I shuffled their way and sat down. I made sure to sit on my foot to get more comfortable.

Maybe to get some friction too from time to time. Or to make sure the egg did not slip out, could it even? Shaking my thoughts away, I focused back on the conversation happening and realized I was being talked to. “I’m sorry, could you repeat?” I said softly.

“Where did you hurry off to?” Robin asked gently, Nami followed with more snark, “Yeah, you had Traff’ here worried. I’d run too if he was making some adv-“ Seeing how annoyed Law seemed to become when Nami teased him like that, I interrupted her with a polite smile.

“I remembered I had to send an assignment, but it’s done now! I’m single and ready to mingle- or like just, to party. I’m not- yeah I’ll…” I made a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth and poured myself a drink when the conversation resumed without a hitch.

Law who was leaning back, his hands on the ground behind his back, observed all my actions without a word. At this point it was clear he wasn’t listening to the conversation right in front of him. I turned his way with a scowl and hissed in a hushed tone, “What do you want?”

It seemed to put a smile on his face as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees now. “Still curious of your thoughts, and even more curious of why you lied. But you’re not going to tell me the latter.” He huffed a laugh, “Not yet, at least.” His confidence could now be qualified as arrogance, I had a hard time distinguishing them from one another. Turning around to face him, I discretely moved my heel to get some friction and took a rapid breath.

Choosing to ignore the fact that he assumed, correctly so, that I lied, I mimicked his posture. Resting my chin on my hand. “Then ask me what you want to know, I live to satiate your curiosity doc.” I said sarcastically. For some reason, he made a weird face for the span of a few seconds. He was quick to get a hold of himself and smirked. “Careful, I might just use that eagerness of yours.”

I held back from widening my eyes in surprise, maybe even smile. I liked it, it was strange how easy it was for him to make my stomach churn in need, but I enjoyed it a lot. Giving him a half-smile, I hummed inquisitively, “What if I say I’d like that?” I regretted my words instantly, and was about to lean back when Law said in a low tone, “Then I’d be sure to give you my number to settle a date.”

Looking at him with wide eyes, I couldn’t help but be flattered and smiled stupidly. “We barely know each other, sir. I believe buying someone dinner first is the tradition.” I said humorously. I was trying to back out of this, I don’t know why but the fact that he met all my expectations frightened me for a moment.

He scoffed in response and leaned back, putting his hand forward, palm up. I quirked a brow and put my hand on his, only for him wrap it around mine and pull me towards him, “I was asking for your phone.” He whispered before letting go. I quickly pulled my hand back and frowned, masking my embarrassment by saying, “Well, you could have been clearer. Maybe use your words? That’d be interesting too, it does avoid me doing looking like an idiot.”

Smirking, he huffed a laugh once more and said, “I could have, but then you wouldn’t have done that.” He then pulled out his phone and handed it to me, a new contact ready to be filled. “And you looked kind of cute.” Law continued, his brows raised as he glanced down at his phone for me to take. I took it with a grumble, not knowing what to answer. So, I typed in my number and let my thumbs hover over the name. “I’m really thinking of a joke here, for my name.”

With my fingers tapping the back of the phone, I hummed in thought. “It’ll be the thing that appears on your phone when you’re working, so…” After saying that, he gently snatched it from my hand and shook his head. “You’re right, I’d rather you did not do something childish.”

I had to put my drink down to give him an incredulous look, “Funny, not childish. But I suppose my full name makes just as much sense.” I rolled my eyes with a smile.

Maybe it was happening too fast, but we could get to know one another on those dates. If that’s what he had in mind. If not, I was not against having him as booty call, not when he looked this hot. When I felt my phone vibrate, I suddenly felt all excited. My brain thought for a second it was HandSurgeon, then the penny dropped and I saw an unknown number had texted me “Trafalgar Law.” Looking up at him, I quirked a brow.

“Very uncreative for a first text. I’ll send a better one, then you can call me childish.” I then proceeded to send him an eggplant, a droplet and the two eyes emojis. The disappointment in his eyes was priceless, I snorted ungracefully which earned me another raised brow from the handsome doctor. “Because that is better? If you want something, I’m sure you can use words instead of emojis, try again.” He told me with a smug smile. My walls clenched around the toy inside me, his demeanor having a pleasing yet unwanted effect on me.

It felt wrong. We were just discussing, our friends around us, and I was getting off. I was finding pleasure in all of this, my skin being more and more sensitive as time went on. “You’re the one who had questions, I don’t have much to say, really.” I shrugged, focusing on saving his number under the name The fuckable doctor friend. Proud of it, I showed him and he rolled his eyes, telling me to change it to his full name. “Hey, you say ‘use my words’. I say ‘it speaks for itself’.”

Making a gesture to come close, he brough his hand between our face in a way people do when they exchange a secret. Then he said, “I thought you wanted to go on a date first, but you seem to clearly be needing a fuck to clear your thoughts.” I suddenly turn to face him, he was looking down at me with half-lidded eyes and a cocky smile. Our faces were very close, if I wanted to, I could lean in and press our lips together, I could push him down and-

“Hey, hey, hey guys, how about you keep that for like- let’s say, a time when we’re not all here? I could almost cut the tension with a knife!!” Nami said as she put a hand on both our chest, separating us with a nervous laugh. She then looked at me with a frown and hissed, “I thought you had better taste than that-“ “I wouldn’t know, you didn’t even let me get a taste.” I shrugged.

Looking to the side, I saw a surprised look on Law’s face quickly followed by a proud smile and a short laugh. “He’s no good,”

“I think a lot of people would say differently, they often thank me for not being able to walk the next day which says a lot.” He said casually, giving Nami the cockiest look ever.

I was turned on so bad from what he had said, from the attitude too, while Nami just looked at him with an unfazed expression. “Right, you hardly get free time Traff. I don’t think your conquests list is that long, but it’s great you believe it.”

His laugh was enough to cut the conversation short. He was not going to argue back, there was no need to, but he was still slightly annoyed. “Damn Nami, you seem pretty invested in his sex life. Maybe you should find someone-“ She interrupted me with bright cheeks, “Shut up! I’m taking things slow with Vivi!!” I rarely see her flustered, but it felt nice because I was able to make Law genuinely smile.

Letting us go, Nami stood up and pulled Luffy and Robin with her to the kitchen when Luffy asked about Vivi. Watching them go, I let my back hit the ground as I sighed. I was this close to kiss him, and fuck was it, “Hot…” I mumbled. I was quick to get up when I heard Law’s voice asking me “What is?”

“Fuck, I had completely forgotten you were there- I don’t know how I did that but-“ Sitting back up, I covered my mouth and leaned on my hand in faux-casual, trying to cover the sudden wave of pleasure when I moved. I moved my hand to my cheek and tried to smile normally. “Sorry about Nami, she is very… Protective? Which I don’t understand why-“ my last word was said in a higher tone when I tried to scoot closer to the doctor but only made my situation worse.

Still, I continued and cleared my throat. “I badly moved and uh, my muscles…” I tried to justify my sudden outburst, “Anyway, I don’t understand why she’s protective, you don’t seem like a bad guy.” I continued, “And if you’re Luffy’s friend, by default you’re actually a nice guy.” Law stared at me, deep in thought. He pondered my words for a moment, it gave me time to take in his features. His facial hair wasn’t too much, sure it probably would feel a bit itchy if we kissed but…

At the same time, my brain sent me an image of him going down on me. His hair tickling down and making me squirm, then when he’d look back at me, his beard glistening with- “I don’t think that’s how it works; you don’t know what I do when behind closed doors. Maybe I’m a criminal.” He trailed off, giving me what was supposed to be a mysterious smile.

“I suppose we all have secrets, it’s not that bad. I have mine; you have yours. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” I stated, “Plus you save life, you literally studied around… a lot of years? To save people, it’d be counterproductive to kill them. At best you’d be a conman, and you know…. Eat the rich.” I hummed, thinking of something else to add. I thought the tension from before had dissipated, then I felt his hand touched mine that was splayed on the floor to keep me balanced. I was startled but did not move. Instead, I slowly looked at him, he was gazing down at me with a mischievous smile.

“It’s cute, you think I dropped our previous topic. But tell me, you were curious about something.” His eyes trailed from our hands to then look me up and down, his lips pulled in a lazy smile. I was taken aback and dug my nails deeper into the ground, but since it was hard it only showed my fingers bent. “Was it a general curiosity, or were you wondering about someone in particular?” He asked.

Laughing nervously, I thought I had to act cool, maybe cocky in return even. “Maybe I did not mean anything from that? Or maybe I am wondering if I have to invest in a nurse outfit for our first date- but then again, you’d have to pay it since you can afford it-“ He cut me off with a long sigh, “Avoiding the topic I see. Are you that embarrassed to admit you’re the one who fantasies abou being fucked by someone in a long white coat?” He said it in a dismissive way, but the glare he was throwing me from the side only lit a fire inside me.

I wanted to tell him I did not, but my mouth wouldn’t let me. I stared once again at his hand and watched it make its way to my thigh. He did not go high, barely above my knee and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over it. “Cat got your tongue? No witty remark? Maybe I struck a chord.” I wanted to close my eyes, and let myself get overwhelmed by his touch. It was barely anything, but with how much stimulation I had been getting the entire evening, I was so close to cave.

His hand traveled a bit higher on my thigh, I did not say anything. “Would you prefer I wear the coat, or you do? I’d have you completely naked, wearing nothing but that, splayed on my bed…“ He leaned over, his breath caressing my ear, “Tell me to stop.” He breathed, his hand slithering higher. “Looking straight ahead instead of facing me? Why not,” He gripped my chin and turned me his way, “look at me? That’s it, those eyes. So needy and-“

“Traff! Let’s go!! It’s getting late,” Luffy called from the kitchen as he hopped off the isle.

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding when Law removed his hand from my thigh, sighing in disappointment. When I finally dared to meet his gaze, I saw how satisfied he looked. “I’ll send you a message when I am free. But send me a creative text if you feel like it, I’ll be sure to match the mood.” He said cockily as he stood up.

Before he could go, I grabbed his hand to stop him, and craned my neck up to look at him, “Date first, then-“

“Then I’ll be sure to enjoy the sight of you from this angle,” He place his hand under my chin to get a good look, the way he was looking down at me was hungry and desire. If I did not have principles, I would have taken him right now, “It’s quite enjoyable to have you at this height. Just perfect, really-“ “Traff! Come on!!”

I’ll give you a call when my schedule allows it-“ He started, but I got a hold of myself and scrambled to my sense, stumbling a bit when I stood up, I gripped his hand and took it off my chin, “If I’m free sure,”

He chuckled lowly and stepped closer once more, a knowing grin adorning his features, “You will be.” Then he walked away without saying anything more.

They both put their coats on and stepped outside, Nami accompanied them outside while Robin stood by the door until they were out of sight. Once they were gone, Robin locked the door and turned around to give me a huge grin. “Law’s dropping Luffy back to his place and offered to drive Nami to Vivi’s house… That means we can talk about what happened- no what’s been happening the entire evening.”

She seemed too invested, the way she leaned her elbows on her knees once she sat down on the couch showed it, that along with her huge smile. “Hey, Nami sold the product wrong, alright?” I started when I slumped next to her. The vibrations inside me were a constant reminder that I should satiate her curiosity fast, for something was waiting for me in my own room. Something a lot different than a casual dinner with friends.

“Is that so?” She inquired, her grin only widening. “How come you never talked about him? He’s super hot, and those tattoos? Does he not ooze ‘fuckable’? I don’t have time to date but-“ I was cut off when she quipped in, “Neither does he, but I’m sure you both could make an exception.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help my lips from curling into a smile. “I just want to fuck right now, so does he. That’s a common understanding between that gorgeous man, and me.” I hummed, thinking of something to add. But Robin beat me to it.

“He did say you were going on a date, I believe?”

I had to do a double take and raised by brows, “He- when?”

“Before leaving, he said we’d see each other soon when he’d pick you up for your date.” She explained in her usual gentle tone. She seemed to ponder a bit longer, trying to remember the moment more.

“Well it’s not even settled, and it’s just to get to know one another-“ “It often is, yes. First step to a beautiful romance.” I snorted at her words, then shook my head.

“Maybe, just maybe. But I barely know him, and right now I’m more interested in knowing if I’ll be able to walk afterwards or not.” It made my friend laugh, she then grabbed my hands in hers and nodded.

“If it’s any help, you definitely caught his eye. Making him laugh is hard, but you did, so many times. I wonder what you were talking about…” She trailed off, quirking a brow inquisitively. It was indeed a subtle way to see if I’d give her the gossip, but I was not going to tell her we were basically eye-fucking each other the entire time and talked about sex most of it too.

Although they must have noticed the eye-fucking, god the discretion is lacking tonight. I was still buzzing with excitement thinking of tonight, hoping the HandSurgeon would be online.

“He was mocking me, but I’m glad it made him laugh.” I huffed jokingly. The conversation ended shortly afterwards, Robin had to work on something and told me to text her if I needed something because she was going to put her headphone on to not annoy me with her music. It was pretty fortunate, but I’d still try my best to be silent on my part, considering what I was about to do.

We bid each other good night and I tried to go back to my room as calmly as possible. I wanted to rush there, take off all my clothes and check if I had a message from the HandSurgeon. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes, when I moved, they’d brush against my skin and I hated how sensitive it had become from the overstimulation.

I made a detour by the bathroom to grab a towel then locked the door behind myself when I stepped inside my bedroom. Taking off my clothes took but a few seconds however made sure to keep my underwear. Plugging my phone in, I grabbed my laptop and placed in on my bed. I made sure to angle it right, so that we couldn’t see my face, then placed the towel on my bed along my vibrator.

Once I knelt on it and opened Discord, I noticed the messages from the HandSurgeon and the fire inside me was lit ablaze once more.

[Part 4]

#law one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #One piece law #law x reader #words of pleasure #wop #physicalturian #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #writer #writings #ao3 writer

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willowistic22 · 3 years ago

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New jomike hc au!post college

I came up with this au in my head for awhile now some hc’s regarding this new au on a whim bcs i wanted to tell my friends abt it on a discord server. I thought it’s time it sees the light of day bcs i simply cannot keep it in me anymore. Also this is kind of inspired by the song Dorothea - Taylor Swift.

Everyone is graduating so que the sappy goodbyes as they’re all gonna be scattered not just all around the us but also all around the world

The couples made a truce whether to do long distance or they share the same dreams so they do it together

But mike and jojo didn’t make things work in the end so they broke up before graduation but still went to prom together

y’know those kinds of high school hearthache

Bcs Mike stayed in new york but jojo flew away (like england or sumn idk)

To some fancy elite school bcs he’s smart yknow

He wanted to from the start but he’s always been a bit torned bcs he knew from the start of the relationship mike was the one (call it stupid young love or whatever you want, i call it destiny:))

And mike never wanted to hold him down so he was the one that proposed the idea to him

For the most part it worked out

Jojo flew away to chase his dreams

Mike stayed and did the same thing

Both of them only kinda sorta moved on. Met new people but never fully stopped thinking abt the other. Wishing the other was by their side right now

And so they’ve gotten their degrees and gotten their dream jobs

Mike is a coder working in a video game company while jojo is in social media marketing after finishing business school (or whatever major required for that job field idk)

And they kinda hv their life together. Jojo living on his own in a studio apartment with a cat called Dorothea (see what i did there:)) money doesn’t concern him all that much bcs the job pays nicely and he’s good at handling his finances

Mike lives alongside with his brother ike in a nice apartment too. He manages to get a position that allows him to work flexibly at home yknow. He also has a new kitten he saved from the streets named Honey (bcs his fur is orange like honey) and since his older cat had died of old age

But mike lives with ike who also lives with hotshot. So he’s like always the third wheel. Even worse when ike and hotshot are hving the occasional double date with race and spot. Mike feels even more worse at those time

Decides to hide away in his room or go out with the excuse being work

And its even worse remembering he used to go on double dates with ike and hotshot when him and jojo were still a thing

So ike is like ‘yknow what? I hv enough of this shit’ and hv one good brother to brother talk

‘Dude. It’s been years already. How are you not over him?’

‘Bcs he’s jojo...’

‘Ok? So why don’t you call him?’

It’s not like mike has never thought of calling him. Very much possible. They still follow each other’s social media’s so if his old number had changed he cld always just ask from a simple dm since mike knows jojo is still active in his social media accs

But mike is like ‘i can’t. He cld be taken for all i know. Even if he weren’t, he seems to be doing fine on his own’

‘You can’t really get to know a person through instagram posts. Remember how you tried that the first time you wanted to ask him out? You thought he didn’t like guys and yet still went on a date with you anyways’

That was a real slap in the face type of sentence yknow so mike is working up a lot of courage and planned a lot on what he’s gonna do

He first wanted to message jojo. Seeing if it’s still okay to call and all. But he cldn’t figure out what to say so he procrastinated on that part

Ike got sick of it so he took the phone from mike and messaged ‘can we call? I miss you’

Mike was hovering in between i will murder you or thank you @ ike

Either way jojo texts back with his new number. It’s gonna add up on his usual phone bill but he thinks it’s worth it.

Ok so they talked for like soooo long

7?8?hours?

Basically the whole night for mike

It felt like high school all over again

They were just catching up with each other and talking abt absolute bullshit at the same time

Till they got to the point where they mentioned how they’re both single and the air kinda shifts

Deep down mike and jojo knows what this means

As far as jojo is concerned, mike was the one that messaged him that he misses him

It’s easy now for mike to word out come home without indirectly saying it out loud in case that’s not what jojo wants

Bcs after that catching up, he knows that as much as it’s a dream for jojo to work at a big well known fashion brand (he’s pretty fashionable lmao) and get free products that are usually hella expensive from the brand, he hates everyone he works with. Real snobs and ruthless when it comes to getting a higher position

The other things abt his new life is pretty interesting and he loves it. But he admits there’s always been something missing and mike so badly wants to be that something missing in jojo’s new life

So it comes out straight forward. Not like how mike had planned, but it works in the end. ‘Come home’

And jojo does exactly that. He agrees to come home for the weekend. He books a ticket to new york then back with only a carry on duffle bag filled with a few assortments of clothing and booked it out after telling dorothea he won’t be long.

He rushes to the airport bcs he kinda booked the flight that leaves for new york as soon as possible. Perhaps deep down jojo really does know what he’s been missing in his life?

He lands in new york on a friday night new york time

Mike tells him not to worry abt what he’s wearing bcs he just wants to meet jojo at a central park bench that has long became an important spot for them

Jojo insisted on meeting as soon as he lands which is tonight. So the whole time he’s in the cab, he’s like soooo shaky and nervous it kinda drove the cab driver anxious as well. Bcs like jojo’s not talking and didn’t like say anything abt why he’s going to central park this late at night and not to some fancy hotel as most travelers wld do when they first arrive at new york

The moment the cab stops, jojo basically threw him a wad of cash. Probably too much than the actual price of the ride but he just called out from the back of his shoulder saying it’s a huge tip. Secretly, he’s thanking the cab driver for not asking him why he’s in new york and why central park at this time. It’d most likely make him even more nervous

He’s running on the path. He doesn’t reach full speed bcs his duffle bag is weighing him down. He doesn’t even know why he’s going so fast. It’s not like mike has anything else planned

Picture jojo frantically looking around the area like he’s a lost little boy in the dark. Barely seeing anyone else in ten vicinity, so any figure out at this ungodly time rn cld only mean is mike.

But he’s growing worried bcs it doesn’t seem like he’s around

Until ofc ‘jojo!’

Jojo whips his head around and sees Mike walking up to the bench from a different direction

They didn’t really do anythign at the start. They just stared at each other while standing in the dark approximately 10 feet apart. Jojo waits for a sign from mike to do anything else, though mike was doing the same thing for jojo

Until mike decides to break the 1 minute long silence ‘jojo-‘

But he didn’t continue bcs jojo was already running up to him the moment his mouth moves and tackles him into the tightest hug ever

His duffle bag was dropped halfway from the run so there was no holding back. The hug very much pushed mike’s soul out of his figure as much as it did to his body

Thankfully, mike hugged back just as tight. If not, it was a sign for jojo that it wasn’t okay to go in for a hug just yet and he wld pull back really quick

In time, jojo did end up pulling back to look at mike’s face up close and whisper ‘i still love you’

Which is really out of nature for jojo bcs he’s never really known to be the risk taker between the two

And mike was so happy at that moment that he just pulls jojo in for a kiss.

And that folks, is how they got back together:)

So everyone has agreed that airplane food sucks ass (for the most part at least.

Jojo was forced to eat it on his plane back to new york but he didn’t like finish it

Probably bcs he was so nervous and it also didn’t look so appetizing

So after they’ve said their heartfelt ‘i still love you’s and etc mike took him back to his apartment after finding out he doesn’t hv a place to stay. He’d stay at his parents place but the de la guerra’s hv long moved out of new york. You can say the similarities between jojo and his parents are that they like to travel. They sold their house and ended up backpacking across the world to look for a place to retire inevitably. Last time he checked up on his mom, the old couple is driving to Netherlands.

So mike took him home and cooked him dinner. They hv the apartment all to themselves since hotshot and ike are out

Unknowingly, jojo had sat on honey’s favorite spot on the couch and earned a disapproving meow from the little cat

Not until mike had properly introduced them that honey started to be nicer to jojo. And so they eat dinne ron the couch and talked.

Mike admitted calling him has been on his mind for quite some time but was too scared to act up on it. And jojo said what he did just now was the most compulsive and adrenaline rush thing he’s ever done. The roles had reversed for the moment

But now they’re back where they’ve always belong. In each other’s grasp while looking out the balcony in the tiny living room to watch the sunrise and then getting surprised seeing ike and hotshot pile in the apartment

And so now they’re back. They make the most of the weekend to talk abt what they really want

Jojo wants to quit his old job. The firm is full of snobby and arrogant ppl

And it has him working almost 24/7. He doesn’t want that

Mike on the other hand wants to hv a period of his life where he’s traveling full time

So they took inspiration from ike and hotshot’s current plan : get a mini bus to convert it into a home

In conclusion jojo quits his job, moves back to new york along with his cat dorothea so he can live with mike to make that converted bus plan. After securing a proper job that let’s him work at home flexibly like mike’s, they get on with their plan and sets off to travel in their house on wheels with their two cats. They end up getting married ofc and lived happily ever after:)

Thank you and goodnight folks hsnsgsbssjshmshssmhs

#newsies #newsies headcanons #jomike #jomike newsies #jojo newsies #jojo de la guerra #mike newsies #tw animal death

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onelastbreath-writes · 4 years ago

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I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic. It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

#triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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iron--spider · 5 years ago

Text

my favorite superhero

Tony sits there, cuffed to a chair in whatever the hell facility this is, and he stews. He doesn’t enjoy being kidnapped—his ego always takes a hard hit when he allows it to happen, and now that the end of the world has come and gone, he figured this kind of shit would fall off.

But he stews, particularly angry, because this one is personal.

Justin Hammer paces back and forth in front of him. He’s a little weightier than he was when Tony last saw him, sporting a patchy, uneven beard and what looks like a borrowed suit. Still an asshole.

“Haven’t I been through enough?” Tony asks, twisting his hands in the cuffs behind his back. The iron arm is just not strong enough to break whatever the hell these are made of, and he’s angry because Justin thought ahead. When does Hammer think ahead, ever?

“Honestly,” Tony continues. “I’ve got kids now, you’ve gotta stop stalking me. I lost my arm saving the fucking world—apparently whatever the hell repercussions of all that got you out of prison, surely through no lawful avenues, so you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stark,” Hammer says, pointing over at him.

“No, you know what, you’re not welcome. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back, you said it,” Hammer says, crossing his arms over his chest and holding his head high.

Tony sighs and looks away. There’s what looks like a kind of forcefield around where he’s sitting, and he sighs even harder. The room isn’t too large, with a vaulted ceiling, and Hammer’s situated himself on the platform in front of what looks like a couple empty offices. He prances back and forth above the few stairs that lead down to where Tony is, so he can stay above him.

“You know, I’m really proud of this,” Hammer says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “This whole thing, right? So I snag you, and then we set off that bomb threat over in Midtown, so all your other super buddies fly over there and just think you’re slacking on the job when you don’t show up. Because you’re still handling the lower level shit like that, I know what you’re doing. I even think that Strange guy is over there, so they’re all there and they’re probably all judging you for not helping.”

“Cute,” Tony says, bitter.

“And this place is state of the fucking art, Anthony, like this could be the Queen’s bunker, and I’ve got all the buddies that left the Raft with me protecting the perimeter—chiseled, rugged guys just—ready to beat the shit out of everybody—”

“Nice, the guys that left the Raft with you, like you’re on vacation—”

“AND we’ve got you in vibranium handcuffs, you’re welcome, your pal in Wakanda’s gonna be real pissed when he realizes how far into the villain layer his shit has gotten—”

Tony looks at him, brows furrowed. “Villain layer? Layer—layer of villains? Is that what you were trying to say? And you’re including yourself there? Or like, lair of villains, like their lair where they keep their stuff—but that doesn’t really work—”

“No, just, shut up,” Hammer says. “Forget it. But that—yeah, vibranium handcuffs, so you’re not getting out any time soon even with your shiny new arm. And that forcefield is brand new Hammer tech, even if your buddies did fly over here once they’re done with their nice little distraction, they’re not smart enough to take down the encryptions, not even Banner, I checked into his degrees and what he studied and covered all my bases.”

Tony’s bitterness is mutating into something else, something more bitter and why the shit can’t this asshole leave him alone?

“Congratulations,” he says. “Today marks the first day in history that you weren’t a complete dumbass.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Hammer says, bending over in a deep bow, hands whipping with a flourish. “I thought about every variable, every avenue, now we just need Miss Pepper Wifey to answer my calls and—”

Tony experiences a flash of anger at that, and then a high pitched tone starts going off in his ears, and now he feels like a dumbass.

Peter. Was with Pepper.

Peter.

Like a shining light in the darkness and someone Hammer has clearly not paid attention to despite all his fucking planning, because he would have mentioned it amongst all the other bragging. Spider-Man isn’t an official Avenger yet to the world, just among the group. And Peter would never think Tony is slacking. Because Peter just doesn’t think that way.

Tony’s heart warms, because even though there’s no indication, he knows Peter is coming to get him.

“You know what?” Tony asks, looking up at Hammer again and interrupting whatever dumb shit he was saying. “I was wrong. You’re still a dumbass.”

Hammer stares at him. “What? No I’m not. Why? But I’m not.”

“You are,” Tony says, glancing away. “I’m not telling you why.”

“Oh Jesus, Tony, c’mon,” Hammer says, waltzing down the couple of stairs from the platform he was standing on, like the supreme idiot he is. “You’re such a—”

He stops, abruptly, and pulls out a small tablet from his pocket. His eyes narrow.

Here we go. Let’s go Spider-Man.

It’s faster than Tony could have imagined, and he looks on eagerly. “Oh, what’s that? What’s going on? A little hiccup, maybe?”

“Gotta be some kind of bullshit,” Hammer says. “Super friends are all at the coordinates I set them up at, my guys checked, my guys—oh my God, Raul.”

“Oh my God, is Raul okay?” Tony asks, flexing his fingers a bit behind his back. “Where’s Raul, is Raul here? Is something wrong—is Raul sick?”

Hammer glances up at him but he’s shaking more now, and his pacing gets more panicky and stilted. He holds the tablet with one hand and taps on some kind of ear com with the other, and Tony shifts back in his chair a bit, relaxing.

“Jason, Jason, can you hear me? Are you there? Buddy, the whole reason I gave you this earpiece is so you can report when I need you to report—”

He gasps, dramatically, and looks up at Tony.

“Not good?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. “Not good news? Did they go on dinner break early? So hard to find good help these days.”

“Do you know somebody else?” Hammer asks. “I thought the Avengers were very exclusive, I thought you didn’t chat with all the other ragtag Times Square assholes.”

Tony leans forward and stares at him just as all these red, fiery lights start going off on the ceiling, and Hammer looks up and around, dropping the tablet and letting it shatter. Tony catches a glimpse of it now that he can see the screen, and he watches as guard after guard goes from green to red.

He looks back up at Hammer and grins, full of pride. “You don’t know shit about me if you don’t know who my favorite superhero is.”

And with that, the door behind Hammer opens and the lights snap out, only leaving the soft purple glow of the force field around Tony amongst inky darkness. His heart leaps when he hears a gun go off, three times with angry ricochet, and then he hears Hammer shrieking like a little girl, followed by the unmistakable sound of Peter’s webs and a body falling to the floor.

Tony sits there in darkness and silence for a long moment.

“Uh, Spidey?” Tony asks, blinking in the purple glow. “Where are you, bud? You okay?”

The lights click back on and he sees Peter kneeling on the ground, checking Hammer’s pulse.

“Oh thank God. You okay?” Tony asks again. “He didn’t shoot you, right? The asshole.”

“No, he didn’t shoot me,” Peter says. He pulls off his mask and stuffs it in his belt, looking up at Tony with a grimace. “He just, like. Passed out. I didn’t even punch him. I was gonna hit him, like, to knock him out, but he was already passed out and I didn’t even use impact webs, Tony.”

Tony snorts. “It’s fine, that’s just how he is.” He grins at Peter. “Thanks for coming, kid.”

“Duh,” Peter says, approaching him.

“I’m sure he’s got a computer around here or something, so you can disable the forcefield—”

“Yeah, I already did that,” Peter says, walking right through it, and Tony watches, mouth agape. “For some reason he had a stealth mode, and I was able to mirror that and it put it on standby for twenty minutes.”

Tony nods. “Alright, shit, that’s great, okay, plenty of time to figure out the handcuffs, find a key or something—”

Peter walks around behind him and kneels down. “He was stupid enough to alter them and add a code and a second latch.”

Tony feels him do something, and then the handcuffs drop off, like nothing. He laughs, feeling a little lightheaded, and he gets up, turning around to face the kid.

He feels completely and utterly in awe of him. He always knew Peter would surpass him, but he has with such grace and candor and it’s—amazing.

Peter puffs out his chest and points down. “One day, I’m gonna be able to break vibranium with my own strength, and then I’ll tell King T’Challa—”

Tony nearly launches himself at him, wrapping him up in a hug. He ruffles Peter’s hair and pats him on the back, sighing and holding him close. “I’m very proud of you. Very very. Really very.”

“Oh,” Peter says, holding onto him. “Really?”

“Shit, of course,” Tony laughs, wondering if he doesn’t say it enough or if that’s just Peter, always doubting himself. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”

“No, I’m—I was done. I’m just—I’m just gonna tell him.”

Tony hugs him for a couple more long moments before letting go, pulling back and gripping his shoulders in continued appreciation of what he’s done here. “You’re the best, you know that? Better than Cap or Bruce. Better than all of them. Number one.”

“Nah,” Peter says, but he’s grinning.

“That idiot,” Tony says, pointing over at Hammer, encased in webbing, “is one of my worst enemies.”

Peter narrows his eyes. “Really?”

Tony lets his arms drop. “Well. Definitely the most irritating.”

Peter laughs. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Don’t get mad, but I took one of the quinjets to come get you. But Friday flew the whole way so it’s technically like, not that bad.”

Tony scoffs as they head for the way Peter came in, the red lights still flashing and indicating the absolute fucking wreck Spider-Man left Hammer’s facility in. “Kid, that quinjet? It’s yours now, I’m gifting it to you.”

“Don’t say things you’ll take back later,” Peter says, leading him through the corridor, where a bunch of guys are webbed to the walls—some squirming, some still.

“Nope,” Tony says, patting him on the back again. “I will not be taking that back.”

“Okay,” Peter says, eyes wide with excitement as he grabs for his mask. “Then I would also like an Iron Man suit.”

Tony scoffs and turns right when Peter does. “Okay, that—that we can negotiate.”

#tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #iron dad #my fics #and my fave villain #there he is #look at him

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